Chapter 1060
Night Queen’s Aria
“–I’ll go.”
Unexpectedly, it was Arsen, the weakest of the three, who stepped forward without hesitation.
He strode forward, his gaze fixed on the Count of Orléans.
Golden light gradually ignited in his pupils – a resonance from the Principle of Balance.
Eivass looked at Arsen with interest.
He didn’t know what Arsen was thinking or what decision he had made to dare to fight a Fifth Tier Child of the Moon on their home turf. After all, Arsen wasn’t good at fighting… he was only good at escaping.
The Count of Orléans clearly knew Arsen’s background as well.
“You…?”
Therefore, he didn’t feel any pressure, only scoffed in place: “You dare to challenge me, Arsen?”
The Count still held his cane in one hand, standing still.
Judging by the address, he clearly knew Arsen.
This was not surprising, as Arsen was once a phantom thief known for stealing from the rich… and in Iris Flower, at least half of the rich were Children of the Moon, and the other half were closely related to them.
Whether it was magic potions or the potions prepared by witches, wealthy merchants were willing to pay a high price for them; and the large number of Blood Slaves needed by the Children of the Moon had to be found through these merchants’ channels.
Hunting at night alone wouldn’t yield much good prey – for Children of the Moon, the best food was Extraordinary people on the Path of Devotion, or mortals with an aptitude for the Path of Devotion. And preferably good-looking, young ones.
–And Arsen happened to have a rank on the Path of Devotion.
“Have you forgotten…”
Before the Count could finish speaking, he vanished in an instant.
The next moment, he teleported in front of Arsen.
Raising his cane, he swung it down fiercely towards Arsen’s face!
–Clang!
A crisp sound, like two pieces of wood striking each other.
Arsen didn’t have time to draw his sword, so he could only reluctantly grip the hilt of his short sword with a reversed grip, raising his left arm with its scabbard for defense.
The scabbard was almost knocked out of his hand by the cane, revealing a flash of cold light.
The Count, holding his cane in one hand, pressed down expressionlessly: “I’ve drawn your blood before?”
In an instant, Arsen suddenly released his left hand.
The next blow struck instantly, knocking the short sword directly away.
At the same time, a bright light burst from Arsen’s open left palm, causing the Count to squint his eyes. Arsen himself, enveloped in his cloak, turned into nothingness.
Just then, the short sword Salastro, which had been knocked flying, finally unsheathed—
Illusions like a tidal wave rushed over.
The crowd was only dazed for a moment, and the surroundings were no longer the corridor filled with corpses and stone statues, but a deep blue palace. Looking around, they could only see a cave-like palace under the night sky.
Everything around them had not disappeared – neither the walls nor the corpses, nor the other people. No one could see each other, and the sounds of their battles, as well as the bloody smell of the surroundings, had all dissipated.
If one didn’t remember the layout of the surrounding buildings, they would probably bump into thin air.
However, Arsen moved through the illusory void with extreme skill.
Not because he had control over this illusion, but because he was indeed very familiar with the architectural layout of the place.
The Count, relying on his instincts, suddenly swung his cane into the air in a certain direction!
Whoosh—
As he swung his cane, a sharp whistling sound cut through the air.
The surrounding deep blue air blurred for a moment – the illusion was almost torn apart by his attack.
However, the blow missed.
At this moment, a low growl suddenly came from all directions, accompanied by a sudden, powerful musical piece:
“The hellish flames of revenge burn in my heart!
“The fire of death and despair consumes me—”
These were the high notes that Arsen couldn’t sing at all.
His low voice, singing with all his might, sounded like a roar.
And black flames whizzed up from nowhere, and the cold flames burned the entire earth.
Although they didn’t see Arsen and the Count fighting, the sudden singing made Eivass and Sherlock’s expressions change.
–It was so terrible!
It was neither a tenor nor a soprano, but a voice like a eunuch’s broken falsetto.
It filled the entire night sky illusion like background music, momentarily rendering the surroundings as hellish.
“If you cannot send Salastro to his death,
“Then you shall never be my daughter again!”
This was the most aggressive spell in the opera “Lulu’s Magic Flute” – the Night Queen’s Aria.
If the “Pied Piper” wanted to ascend to the Sixth Tier “Queen of the Night,” he had to understand and master this spell.
In this aria, the Night Queen ordered her daughter to complete her revenge mission. She was a sacred and noble “Queen of the Night,” with an irascible and manic personality, a strong desire for control, but also a strong maternal love. When her daughter was in danger, she wanted to save her; she would also comfort her child with tenderness…
But when she realized that her daughter no longer loved her and was about to betray her, she instead used radical means to push her further away.
The Night Queen had long known her daughter’s fate of betrayal, but she did not choose to salvage it. In fury, mania, and pain, she chose to face her fate head-on – this was the principle of betrayal and revenge, the divine power belonging to the Shadow Heavenly Envoy’s domain!
–The “Night Queen” mentioned here refers to the Shadow Heavenly Envoy. It uses metaphors to describe the secrets of the Shadow Heavenly Envoy.
What was evoked was both the fire of love and the fire of revenge.
As hatred and the determination for revenge grew, the power of the flames also increased.
Clang!
Suddenly, a short sword burning with black flames, its blade as black as night, pierced straight out from the void!
At the same time, Arsen, who had reappeared from nowhere, pierced through the illusion!
However, Arsen did not have the ability of Path Adaptation.
He didn’t have the level of an assassin, and even if the Count of Orléans couldn’t detect his position, his sneak attack still failed.
The Count of Orléans reacted instantly – his right hand, which held the cane, clenched into a fist and punched Arsen in the face. Using the recoil, he instantly retreated two steps, raised his cane and pressed it against Arsen’s chest; at the same time, he swung the cane for a beheading strike!
Clang!
Arsen raised the short sword Salastro, which had turned into a black flaming dagger, and blocked the cane.
He looked up, his pupils burning with black flames.
At this time, the black flames had already spread upwards along the cane.
Arsen’s lips curled up imperceptibly for a moment, and he kept repeating, “Never again my daughter.
“Then you shall never be my daughter—”
With each line he sang, the flames of the dagger in his hand grew brighter, and the flames on the ground rose higher.
The flames finally reached the Count of Orléans.
The cuffs of his pants, his right hand holding the cane, and his wrist that was scorched by the flames from the short sword.
However, he didn’t feel heat, but an abnormal chill—
…This is… the Night Queen’s Fire of the Vendome Family?
The Count of Orléans frowned, an irresistible lassitude and fatigue washing over him.
Flames burn, requiring fuel. In this process, a large amount of heat is released.
The Night Queen’s Fire, however, was different – it directly drew out the “heat of the human heart,” transforming it into the fire of revenge.
A perfect, no-mistake version!
Those burned by this fire would not turn to ash, but would freeze into ice.
Where the flames burned, a thin layer of black frost had already formed on his trouser legs and hands. They looked as dark as obsidian.
His strength was being continuously drained by the flames… If he continued to fight, he would only grow weaker.
It was a pity though…
The Count of Orléans clearly realized that this flame was a power from the Path of Love.
It was a power imitated by the “opera” of the Path of Beauty!
As someone on the Path of Devotion, the Path of Beauty, and the Path of Balance, Arsen could not deeply understand the abilities of the Path of Love.
However, with the assistance of the Box of Nothingness, the Count of Orléans could almost reverse-engineer and control this flame!
This would have been completely impossible under normal circumstances.
–Only with the assistance of the Box of Nothingness could such an impossibility be achieved!
Perhaps it was because he had not hesitated at all, appearing calm and collected, while Arsen seemed to have exhausted all his strength and lost all his momentum… or perhaps it was because Arsen’s singing was so terrible that it angered or even awakened the Swan King.
But in any case, the black flames were gradually controlled by the Count of Orléans. His cold limbs gradually regained control.
He swung his cane with increasing ease, parrying Arsen’s progressively weaker attacks.
He looked nonchalant, elegant, and composed. Arsen’s movements became slower and slower, his strength continuously draining.
Clang! Clang! Bang!
Finally, the Count of Orléans switched from defense to offense.
After blocking Arsen’s two consecutive swings, he suddenly stepped forward.
He vanished instantly, only to reappear in his original spot.
As Arsen turned to defend, he suddenly kicked him in the chest.
As Arsen lost his balance, the Count then held his cane like a rapier, with both hands on his shoulders.
In an instant, he lunged forward!
The black flame-burning cane lunged fiercely towards his eyes. Under the instable state, Arsen barely blocked it; he retracted his cane, and lunged towards his throat again. Arsen was forced to use a substitute, allowing the Count’s cane to pierce through the clothes floating in the air, while he himself disappeared.
At this moment, the Count of Orléans elegantly swung his cane, chopping downwards through the air.
–Arsen, who had just reappeared after using the substitute, had his right arm, holding the short sword, suddenly severed by an invisible crimson blade!
The attack wasn’t aimed at his landing point.
Rather, it was launched before Arsen even appeared – to be precise, Arsen ran into it himself!
As the short sword “flew out of his hand,” the surrounding illusion warped and dissipated. Arsen, leaning against the wall, clutched his shoulder and stared intently at the Count of Orléans.
His right arm lay on the ground – it was still holding the short sword, and the black flames on the sword were rapidly fading. Here and there on the floor, ceiling, and walls, a few black flames still burned, and the ancient paintings were quietly burning in the fire of revenge, forming patches of black ice.
“I understand your methods far too well, Arsen.”
After launching an attack, the Count did not pursue immediately.
Instead, he stood calmly in place and attacked the opponent with words, trying to further expand his “presence.”
“Your petty tricks can only deceive those ignorant and brainless lower-class humans. To noble Children of the Moon, they are not worth mentioning.
“How long do you think I’ve lived? Ten years? Decades? Or centuries?”
The Count of Orléans put on a show of sighing and smiled: “Everything you’ve seen in your short lifespan, I’ve already seen. What you can think of, I can also think of. The insights you’ve gained in your life are nothing remarkable… they are things I discarded long ago.
“Stealing the wealth of the rich to give to the poor? How ridiculous. Even if the poor receive a small gift, they are still poor. Even if the rich lose their heirloom, they are still rich.
“To try to redistribute wealth through your own power alone—how absurd. You don’t trust the government, you don’t trust the parliament, and you don’t serve the king. Do you think you are stronger than everyone else?
“To surpass everyone by yourself? Haha, I wouldn’t have such dreams when I was young, Arsen.
“It’s time to wake up from your dream.”
He raised his cane and pointed it at Arsen, who was leaning against the wall.
With a mere thought, he could pierce Arsen’s heart directly.
“What a pity, Arsen.”
The hypocritical smile on the Count of Orléans’ face gradually faded, turning into nothingness.
His arrogant gaze was icy cold: “Why run away? Isn’t it good to live here?
“Even if you don’t have the noble talent of a Child of the Moon, you can become a butler.
“Of course, of course… you’re a big shot now. Favored by that old man, becoming his son-in-law, and being ridden by his old daughter. Haha, that’s good.
“Then let me tell you a story, Arsen. Do you know what happened after you ran away?
“You gave those Blood Slaves the illusion of freedom – you could escape, so could they. You could endure it, so could they.
“Could they? No, they couldn’t.”
The Count of Orléans said word by word: “You cost me sixty-eight Blood Slaves. And countless wealth. All of this is because you gave them the illusion that ‘they could escape from here.’
“But what was the outcome? Those who wanted to escape couldn’t, and those who had already escaped couldn’t resist, and eventually returned obediently. By the way, they offered up their comrades. They betrayed their friends.
“But even those who returned were not forgiven by me – all hanged, skinned, and dismembered.
“You made me a disgrace, a disgrace among the Children of the Moon, Arsen… everyone mocked me. And you dared to return and draw your weapon against your master. How do you think I should punish you?”
“—Let’s set that aside for now.”
Eivass’s voice sounded from behind him without a sound. “However, it is indeed time to wake up from your dream.”
