The music theory of the ladder in the Nine Heavens, the dragon's sleep barrier in the Silent Moon, the philosopher's stone in Hermes, the purification music theory in the Inquisition, and the resonance of Abraham's natural disaster......

He put everything he had learned on paper. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ

There is even the music theory of Genesis, and even the music theory that was exchanged from those masters.

In the end, even a blind man could see that he didn't plan to make a normal chapter of fate at all.

Where does the general chapter of fate need to take so much pains? Any chapter of fate that combines any of them is the top in the world and combines the three is already the heavyweight of the heavyweight.

But Ye Qingxuan still didn't plan to stop.

He's made up his mind.

If you want to copy it, then copy it all!

Copy out the new ideas, copy out the friendship, copy out the new realm!

Anyway, since ancient times, no one has prescribed what the chapter of fate must look like, and everyone's core music theory is also strange, even if it is two students handed over by the same teacher of the same school, they are by no means similar.

So, it's not surprising that it's going to look like anything.

Ye Qingxuan decided to simply make a big vote.

Since there is no one before, let's just ...... There is no one to come!

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-

Two days later, they returned to the ruins.

The navies of the various countries are still stationed in place, heavily guarded with each other, and several frictions have broken out in the past few days. All sides have tried their best to coordinate and avoid pointless fighting, but the situation is still like a tight string, and it is not known when it will break under the tremendous pressure of the war music.

All eyes were on the situation in the ruins.

For several days, there was sometimes a long and mighty music from the ancient city. Although it is impossible to detect it from the inside, from the outside, the changes are clear.

The vast Aether Turbulence still envelops the entire sea, making it inaccessible to all, and one can only speculate on the vague changes that have followed the Aether Turbulence.

It is clear that a natural disaster is imminent. But the situation is very strange.

But apart from the jaw-dropping and rapid changes in the first two days, the ruined city fell silent in the days that followed.

The metamorphosis became extremely slow, unbearably slow.

It's like ...... Difficult to give birth the same.

And far away in the Holy City, under the surveillance of the huge nebula of the Central Temple, Archbishop Albert was drowsy. Sometimes I lazily raise my hand, wipe the saliva from the corner of my mouth, raise my eyes to glance, retract my gaze, and continue to sleep sweetly.

It's a pity that the injured half of his face is no longer what it used to be after healing, and his muscles and flesh are exposed, and he looks completely hideous.

After a long time, when he was full of sleep, he opened his eyes and saw the figure next to him.

The cardinal of the Church of Cardinals stood silently under the nebula, looking up at the glitter of the ruins, silent and silent.

"Are you awake?"

"Enough sleep. Albert wiped the saliva from the corners of his mouth, rubbed his eyes, and lifted up: "When did you come? Why didn't you call me?"

"Just arrived, you slept soundly, I didn't scream. The old bishop shook his head, retracting his gaze from the glitter of the ruins, "How long has this been going on?"

"It's been more than a week. ”

Albert said listlessly: "Can such a thing as a natural disaster also have a difficult birth? Even our group of guys who are not even midwives are anxious. ”

"Production also requires skill. The old man shook his head: "You can't be in a hurry." ”

"Sounds like you've got experience. Albert laughed.

"Well, there is. ”

The old man sighed softly, "In the early years, I served in a small church in the South. There are two doctors in the town, but one is responsible for shaving the head and the other is only bloodletting.

Sometimes you can't find a decent midwife, so you have to come to church and ask for help.

Women there marry very early, it is too late to become mothers at the age of sixteen, and difficult births are not uncommon. Giving birth once is gambling on your life.

Sometimes I would go overnight with the priest to deliver babies. But sometimes no matter how good the craftsmanship is, it is useless, and you often have to face a choice......"

"Let me guess. ”

Albert pinched his chin and laughed, "Do you want a child or a mother?"

The old bishop shrugged.

"What did they choose?"

The old bishop did not speak, and the topic ended there.

Neither of them spoke.

There was a long silence.

After a long time, the old bishop looked up from his contemplation and whispered, "Let Chopin send the signal, too late will change, lest the night be too long." ”

Albert's smile was gone, "Are you sure?"

"Sometimes, just waiting is useless and will only cause pain to both parties. ”

The old bishop's eyes were silent, "You always need to make up your mind." ”

A power of attorney signed with the Holy See's signature was placed in front of Albert, Albert's expression twitched slightly, sighed, and waved.

The sound of the organ resounded from above the central temple and echoed through the steel city, and the thousands of bell towers resounded in unison, and the aftermath was heard in all directions.

Listening to the bell, Albert seemed exhausted, lay back in his chair, and shook his head: "Sometimes, I envy you who can make up your mind. ”

The tone seemed sarcastic, causing the old bishop to shake his head and smile bitterly.

"Do you know how I used to solve the problem of difficult birth?"

The old man made an injection: "A shot of oxytocin is enough." ”

Albert was stunned.

"Albert, it has never been me who has made up my mind, where can a human being have such courage?" the old bishop patted him on the shoulder, and turned to leave:

"Whether the child or the mother will survive will let the gods decide for us. ”

In the silence, only the sound of footsteps was far away.

Albert didn't speak, closing his eyes.

-

-

Ye Qingxuan opened his eyes from the dream.

He hadn't dreamed for a long time, but just now, he had another nightmare, dreaming that countless music theories were like an ocean and buried himself.

But when he woke up, he saw countless pages around his body, dense handwriting, and he didn't know how many times he had changed and deleted and added music.

And in the corner, the trembling old nun.

Only now did he hear the faint sound of a bell coming from afar.

There seemed to be some sign and command in the bell, which made the old nun tremble, and fell to her knees, and raised her head, her eyes rolling.

It seems to be epilepsy, but there is no such vigorous fire in the shell of an epilepsy patient.

It was as if the furnace had been ignited.

The dark halls were illuminated by the light of the fire in the old shell, and the aetheric fluctuations of a hurricane burst out of the shell and swept in all directions.

All the masters woke up and looked at the old nun in astonishment.

Even if he had already seen the power of the saints, at this moment, when Schubert was running with all his might, everyone's bodies had a kind of pain of being crushed.

At this moment, they finally recognized the gap between themselves and the saints.

It was a huge distance like an abyss.

In the shell of the old nun, Schubert's music theory was in motion, almost self-destructive, exuding a violent force. Completely disregarding anything, not even yourself.

In the roaring song that seemed to be self-destructive, Ye Qingxuan heard the old nun's last prayer:

"Dust to dust, dirt to dirt, ashes to ashes......"

- May the gods protect my soul.