Chapter 575
The Great Artist Colin
Chapter 575 The Great Artist Colin
Deep within the royal prison, the air was thick with the stench of blood, and screams echoed everywhere. Even the rats hiding in the shadows trembled, afraid to grind their teeth and make a sound.
The dim torches cast distorted shadows on the walls, and the rattling of hinges filled the dark space.
This is the interrogation room.
In the center of the interrogation room stood a colossal machine cast from granite and black iron, which the guards of the royal prison called the "Flesh and Blood Millstone," supposedly invented by Lord Cassius himself.
Clearly, they knew nothing.
Lord Marius has already used it to kill countless Rhine people, and Cassius is merely taking advantage of what's already been done. His only innovation is simply bringing it to the forefront without performing it.
At this very moment, this execution machine is in operation.
The gears meshed with a teeth-grinding creaking sound, like a tireless beast chewing its dinner.
"Damn it...why is this happening?! What's missing?! Holy water isn't this color at all! Damn it!"
Cassius stared intently at the flow channel beneath the machine, his voice sharp and piercing with extreme anxiety. He still wore pristine white gloves, but his once composed face was now devoid of its usual ease, replaced by madness.
All that flowed from the card slot was dark red blood and greasy yellow fat, and a nauseating stench filled his nostrils.
No matter how he filtered it, he couldn't see any trace of the holy water.
Without a doubt—
It is the souls of these lowly people that are too filthy.
"This is not what His Majesty wants at all! Useless! A bunch of useless people."
Cassius whirled around and kicked the jailer who was operating the machine.
The jailer screamed and tumbled a long way, then crawled to his knees, trembling like a leaf. Even with several broken ribs, he dared not look at Lord "Death Knell" standing in the interrogation room.
Goblins are much the same in front of demons, the only difference being that the demons have already gotten tired of playing with them and are too lazy to play with the goblins, while Cassius is just getting started.
"Ah……"
A weak laugh suddenly came from above the feed inlet of the millstone.
It was a rebel who had been tortured beyond recognition; his lower body was fixed in the grinding groove of the millstone, and the sound of bones cracking could be heard every few seconds.
An ordinary person would have died from the pain long ago.
Perhaps it was a final burst of energy before death, or perhaps he had lost the ability to feel pain, but instead of fainting, he raised his blood-stained face.
There was no fear in those eyes, only a contemptuous look that seemed to want to devour it alive.
"Is that all you've got? The king's lackey."
Cassius, who had fallen into madness, sneered and was about to say something when a mouthful of bloody spit landed on his spotless leather shoes.
His face darkened visibly, as if he had accidentally stepped on a stink bug.
But the insurgents continued to laugh.
"Your master is thirsty... why haven't you fed him your blood yet? Is it because it's dirty? Haha..."
There was a deathly silence all around, except for the hearty laughter.
The prison guards standing around were already terrified, and this time they even held their breath.
Even the elite gravediggers standing in the corner couldn't help but swallow hard, their faces tense...
They underestimated the mob's hatred for the monarchy.
They also underestimated Cassius's madness.
Those disdainful eyes were like a rusty pitchfork, piercing Cassius's already crumbling reason.
"Shut up! You sewer rat! You maggot from the gutter! What kind of soul level do you have to talk about me?"
The elegant mask was completely torn apart, revealing a twisted and ferocious face.
He lunged forward so fast that no one could see him clearly; his right hand had already gripped the traitor's neck, and blood flowed from between his fingers.
There was no interrogation.
Because there's absolutely no need for it.
With a casual clench of his hand, he easily snapped the neck, which was lighter than a feather, as if crushing an ant.
click-
A sharp crack rang out, abruptly silencing the mocking laughter. The rebel soldier's head slumped to one side, but his eyes remained open.
Wait—
If there is a next life, I will come back to find you.
Perhaps because the resentment was too direct, the dead soul did not become a ghost, thus depriving the priests who were preparing to perform a ritual of deliverance of him of their opportunity.
Fear is faith, and so is resentment.
Deep-seated hatred, in a sense, can replace Saint Siss, stuffing his soul into the bottle next to his enemy.
Even though his memories have faded with the return of his spirit to the hive, and he has forgotten who he hated, that intense obsession will still remain planted in his soul for a long time.
That is karma that even gods would fear, but the ignorant and fearless superhumans are not afraid of it.
People are dead.
Cassius's fear did not disappear; instead, it grew wildly like weeds, tearing at the last shred of reason in his mind.
He released his grip, somewhat nervously pulled out the dark gold pocket watch from his pocket, glanced at the time, but his pupils did not focus on the insignificant hands.
almost.
He could feel his nightmare approaching.
Scouts outside the city brought reliable news: the Radiant Knight Hagmer had gone completely mad. No longer content with sheltering a bunch of useless beggars, he had drawn his sword and led the main force of his knightly order to breach the outer defenses of Roland County, marching towards the city.
That fellow ignored the king's orders and absurdly identified himself as a treacherous minister who was deceiving the king.
Saint Sis, what merit does Cassius possess to deceive the king? Even Lord Marius has only managed to entangle the king's wrist.
What did he do without the tacit approval of his brother Hagmer?
Hagmer, on the other hand, is a true demigod, the strongest sword of the Devalo family, and even the Campbell family's hero is inferior to him in bravery!
That man, as majestic as a lion, was the natural enemy of all rats in the gutter, and also the natural enemy of loyal ministers.
If he fails to prove his worth, the king will truly abandon him, and he will become the first pawn that Theodore throws out to quell the public's anger.
The truth is that cruel.
As long as you shift all the blame to a gambler who lost, whether it's coins or bread, it will all become yesterday's problem.
Those rebels who were incited by Edward will also face defeat and disintegration due to the quelling of their internal anger.
Cassius knew very well that he had only one chance to survive: to extract the "holy water" from these "human juices".
However, that's where the problem lies.
"Where exactly did things go wrong?!"
Looking at the millstone that was still spinning idly, Cassius grabbed at his meticulously combed hair and muttered frantically.
"I followed Marius's technique... so why did all I get was a pile of rotten flesh? Where are the souls? Where did all those damned souls go?"
The people standing around dared not utter a sound.
Even those "pastors" who acted as accomplices to the evildoers were too afraid to speak and couldn't offer any explanation.
They only performed rituals to guide souls to the afterlife; they had no idea what a soul actually was. Saint Clement did not support his followers in pursuing these unorthodox practices. Not only was dissecting the soul blasphemous, but even dissecting the body was considered taboo by the Church of Saint Clement.
However, in the last hundred years, the influence of the Vatican has waned, and it can no longer control these blasphemous people.
The "poor" Cassius had no idea that those Marius's close associates who had so confidently taught him the "method of making holy water" were merely trying to get a quick release from his clutches, and had simply concocted a set of dubious tricks to please him.
Actually, let alone those close confidants.
Even Marius himself never truly understood the core techniques of those mages in the Academy; he merely copied some experimental logs from peripheral researchers.
The king sat in his dry well, only able to hear the echoes within. And the dry well, which "protected" the king, was itself sitting in its own dry well.
"What a... terrible imitation show."
Just as Cassius was sinking into the abyss of impotent rage, a soft laugh suddenly came from the shadows.
The laughter was clear and elegant, but it sounded particularly jarring in the blood-soaked dungeon.
"Who?!"
Cassius turned around abruptly.
In the dark corner of the interrogation room, a figure had appeared out of nowhere.
It was a young man dressed in a deep blue robe. His robe was embroidered with intricate silver runes, which shimmered faintly in the dim firelight.
He stood with his hands behind his back, exuding a refined and scholarly air. Looking at the hellish scene before him, there was no discomfort in his eyes, but rather the cold arrogance of a superior.
"Wow—"
The gravediggers and jailers around him reacted quickly, drawing their weapons and surrounding the man. But he didn't even glance at them, as if they were merely toys in their hands.
This is true.
Only when ordinary people form a legion-level force can they truly pose a threat to higher-level superhumans.
Cassius narrowed his eyes, raised his right hand, and gestured for his men to put away their weapons.
As a peak Amethyst-level expert, he hadn't sensed this person's aura at all. This meant that the other person's strength was either above his own, or they were carrying a secret treasure he didn't understand.
And that robe... seems to belong to the Academy.
Cassius took a deep breath, trying to regain some of the authority that belonged to the leader of the gravediggers.
When did you come in?
The young mage slowly straightened his slightly wrinkled cuffs and spoke in a calm voice.
“I’ve always been here, Lord Cassius.”
Cassius narrowed his eyes, sized up the guy, and a smile suddenly appeared on his lips.
He sensed a familiar aura emanating from this man, just like that of Professor Edgar Kaufman, who always seemed to be around Marius.
Now Marius has disappeared without a trace, and Edgar has also stopped showing up. It seems that this ill-fated couple has probably been buried together in the ground.
The young mage felt a surge of annoyance at Cassius's smile. He didn't know what this rude monkey was thinking, but it must have been something disrespectful.
but--
The attitude of a monkey doesn't matter.
Lord Ormon needs a reliable person to replace Edgar Kaufman, the captured traitor. If he can successfully complete the Roland City project, he will be the next mastermind behind Lord Ormon's cloak, standing out from the crowd of mages.
"Let's speak frankly, Lord Cassius."
Seeing that Cassius had not spoken for a long time, the young magician took the initiative to break the silence and spoke in an undisguised arrogant tone.
“My name is Eddie, and I come from the northern wastelands. Although you may not know us, we have been watching you all along. We were even ‘old friends’ back when your former superior, Marius, was still alive.”
Upon hearing the other party reveal their identity, Cassius's smile finally carried a hint of surprise, though the feigned sincerity was still nauseating.
"So you're friends from the North! Welcome! What brought you here?"
He spread his arms wide in an exaggerated manner, as if he had seen an old friend he hadn't seen for many years. He took a step forward in an affected manner, muttering to himself.
"I knew it... that traitor Marius left a backup plan! You are the real instruction manual for this machine! Quick, teach me! Where did I go wrong? Why can it only extract blood, but not the soul?"
Eddie did not respond to the almost manic enthusiasm. Instead, he frowned slightly, took a step back, and avoided the strong smell of blood.
That look in his eyes was like that of a civilized person with matches in his pocket, watching primitive people struggling to make fire by rubbing stones together.
"manual?"
Eddie glanced disdainfully at the huge, still-creaking millstone, a mocking smile playing on his lips.
"Lord Cassius, your misunderstanding of magic seems to run deep. Do you think souls are the wine in your cellar? Forgive my bluntness, but the difference between us is not just an instruction manual, but an entire northern wasteland. This thing you've created is not even fit to touch a sacred soul; even a half-baked alchemist would laugh out loud at it."
Cassius's smile froze for a moment, but he quickly dismissed the humiliation. A little mockery meant nothing as long as he got what he wanted.
"So what should I do?"
Cassius took another step forward, his eager voice growing increasingly frantic, like a monster cornered against a wall, "Any price is negotiable if you can get me the holy water! Gold coins? A title? Or people? Oh, right, didn't you want people? You can give me everyone in this prison!"
Upon hearing this, the already trembling prison guards around him instantly held their breath.
Even the elite gravediggers standing in the shadows, and even those seemingly unrelated priests, showed undisguised fear on their faces.
Saint Sis above—
They know their boss all too well.
Although Lord Cassius was probably referring to "people locked in cages," if this esteemed mage were to actually ask for their lives, or the lives of their wives and children... Lord Deathstroke certainly wouldn't even bat an eye.
Everyone is a bargaining chip that can be traded on the scales.
He has completely gone mad.
Looking at the ants shrouded in fear, Eddie shook his head in boredom.
But just in case, he still carefully raised his hand, casually slicing a dark blue crack in the air with his index finger.
hum-
An invisible ripple instantly spread out, enveloping him and Cassius, blocking out the increasingly noisy panting.
Cassius frowned slightly, then a smile appeared on his lips. Soundproof barrier.
Magic is really a useful thing.
No wonder the Empire sent them to the land of knights to study those powerful but useless divine powers, while they themselves shut themselves away to study magic.
With no outsiders to hear him, Eddie slowly opened his mouth and said something that went straight to the point.
"You crave the holy water so much simply to use it to curry favor with that aging mad king, thereby preserving your precarious position and secular power. Secondly, you yearn to use this power to break through your limitations, become a true strongman, and no longer fear the Radiant Knight who is on his way like a dog... Am I right?"
Cassius stared at Eddie and gave a cold laugh.
"I don't deny it. In this chaotic world, who doesn't want to be above everyone else? Aren't you the same?"
"Of course, I want to be that kind of great person, just like you."
Eddie nodded, and a cryptic smile suddenly appeared on his refined face, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue.
"But if I may be so bold, your method is a bit too roundabout."
Cassius frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"Literal meaning."
Ignoring Cassius's frown, Eddie continued slowly and deliberately.
"We can help you achieve both of these goals, so why place your hopes on a dying old madman? Don't you want to... become an all-powerful god yourself?"
“We can even skip the ‘holy water’ step and make that supreme king yours.”
Cassius held his breath, staring incredulously at the madman before him, unable to believe that he would utter such blasphemous words.
However, the astonishment in his eyes quickly turned into an uncontrollable greed.
To make the king... mine?
It sounds like putting a crown on one's own head. While it may seem a bit crazy, he really didn't have a choice, did he?
If he doesn't take the gamble, he will soon die as a traitor, becoming the medal on the chest of "Radiant Knight" Hagmer.
What do you want?
Seeing the big fish finally take the bait, Eddie nodded with satisfaction.
“It’s very simple, Roland City.”
Ignoring the violently contracting pupils, his gaze passed through the transparent barrier, looking at the ants who had just dug their own graves but were completely unaware of it, and he softly uttered the answer that sounded like a devil's whisper.
“We need a great fire, a raging fire ten times more intense than the ‘Winter Fire,’ a fire that will engulf everyone, turn their faith into firewood, and give birth to new gods from the ashes.”
"And you are the god we have chosen."
……
Late autumn in Thunder City is always accompanied by continuous rain, while the wind and rain upstream of the rushing river seem to have no relation to this place.
Rain dripped incessantly from the eaves of the manor, pattering on the marble steps. The fox-eared maid yawned, falling asleep peacefully to the rhythmic sound of the rain, drool at the corner of her mouth, seemingly dreaming of delicious food.
Life in the human world is really great!
Although Shanghai isn't bad either.
In the study not far away, the esteemed Demon King sat at his desk, having not gone anywhere for the past week.
However, this does not mean that the Demon King is idle.
On one hand, he needed to solidify his power through meditation and reading magical texts, while on the other hand, he also needed to study the notes he had seized from Marius.
This guy stole a lot of things from the Soul School without proper research, and the Soul School turned a blind eye to the puppets they were willing to support... Now all of these things have become the Demon King's spoils of war.
Luo Yan was deeply interested in the study of soul matter and spiritual matter. His aim wasn't to refine any holy water, but rather to understand the so-called reincarnation process.
Or to put it more philosophically, where do people go after they die?
This relates to his rebuilding of the underworld and how to use limited resources to patch up the leaky beehive beneath his feet.
That was one of the many branches on his path to godhood.
After all, if those around him are all "wild grasses" reincarnated for the first time, wearing ignorance, fearlessness, immorality, and heartlessness as certificates of merit, it would not be a good thing for him, the future god.
The planet Kao serves as a cautionary tale for the continent of Os.
Of course, besides these distant matters, Luo Yan was also pondering some practical issues.
For example, he, as the first president, put a lot of thought into the soon-to-be-established Mage Guild, paying attention to the design of the organizational structure and the decoration of the guild.
In addition, because of this matter, Eileen also found an excuse to stay overnight, claiming that she was there to assist with the preparations for the Mage's Guild.
The relationship between humans and Hell has never been so "harmonious".
Grand Duke Campbell not only tacitly approved of this, but also specifically asked Colin to take good care of his sister and not leave any regrets, etc.
Although Luo Yan always felt that the earnest word "take care" carried many other meanings.
Even the aunt's smile when Mrs. Antony left hinted at a different kind of expectation... or rather, curiosity about how things would unfold.
To be honest, Luo Yan didn't want to think about these things for the time being.
On the one hand, he can't quite take off the "mask" he's wearing, and on the other hand, the atmosphere at Colin Manor has indeed been a bit "strange" lately.
Mia and Vivian seem to have brought the bad habits of Shanghai here, breathing on each other every now and then.
Miss Padridge is not very smart in this respect. Why bother arguing with a child whose mind is not yet mature?
The more severe the punishment, the more motivated Vivian will become.
On the contrary, if you ignore her for a while, she will become itchy all over and crawl in the shadows.
Speaking of which, I have to praise Nanfu. He is the most law-abiding person and has become a college student with clear eyes.
He would either sit in a corner with a book and read it by himself, or read picture books to Miss Lino, who occasionally visited the place.
Or, be ridden like a horse by that human.
Luo Yan sometimes felt that the reason why these demons were ridden on by humans was partly due to their constant infighting.
But then he thought, isn't the Holy City the same?
Although he only glanced at the scene briefly, casually placed a few chess pieces, and left, the undercurrents beneath the calm surface were still visible to the naked eye.
Dantès and Teach would often write to him, telling him about the latest happenings in the high society of the Holy City.
Attributing the problem solely to internal strife would be too hasty. The truth is actually quite simple: the balance between empire and hell exists simply because both sides have found their comfort zones.
Of course, these grand topics were too far removed from the esteemed Councilor Luo Yan; he always cared about the people around him.
As for what hell is like, and what the empire is like, let those who have nothing better to do worry about it.
For example, recently he has been very concerned about the atmosphere at Colin Manor.
Mia's inexplicable jealousy of Vivian is one thing; mental problems are indeed contagious, and succubi are particularly sensitive.
What really unsettled him was that recently even his cat had started wagging its tail, and a hint of ambition was gradually emerging in its loyal and gentle eyes.
The reason for this is simply that the demons are too weak. From the demon's perspective, it is naturally true that "my sword is not without its advantages."
Of course, Luo Yan didn't just nitpick at others; he also reflected on himself three times a day.
Ultimately, it all comes down to the fact that the character of "Roxie Collin" is really bad; the father has turned on his son.
"Demon King, are you reflecting on your own problems?" A seemingly cautious voice echoed deep within Luo Yan's mind.
Luo Yan, of course, retorted without hesitation.
'Shut up, Youyou.'
what--
It's this taste.
Hearing this familiar morning greeting, Youyou rolled over in the air contentedly and floated away like a whale swimming on its back.
Luo Yan rubbed his slightly sore temples, forcibly pulling his thoughts away from those messy trifles and refocusing his attention on the long table in front of him.
There, a city model that is taking shape is placed, about one meter in length and width.
That was a miniature Thunder City that he painstakingly pieced together by using his source power to precisely manipulate the sand and gravel, combined with the shaping power of earth elemental magic.
While it can't be called a 100% replica, it captures about 80% of the essence of the original.
As for the aerial view of the city, it was captured by the "Butterfly of All Things" perched atop the clock tower.
At this moment, Luo Yan was like a creator sitting on a cloud, looking down at the city below while constructing its reflection with his fingertips.
This thing is certainly much weaker than modern 3D printing technology, but in 1054 it was undoubtedly a miracle in art history.
Because no one has ever done this before.
Most powerful magicians disdain wasting their time on art.
Perhaps before long, a "great artist Colin" will be born in Thunder City.
"You've got some skills, haven't you?"
A tiny, golden head peered over.
Taf was seen lying on the edge of the table, her dragon wings folded behind her back, her vertical pupils examining the model that Luo Yan was kneading with great interest.
This little female dragon seems to have grown a lot more recently, her body has grown quite a bit, and she's not as sleepy as before.
Especially since her scales had just been replaced, they reflected a dazzling golden luster under the light, making her look even more noble and imposing.
When she grows up, it will be very cool for her to ride it around.
Luo Yan did not look up, and spoke in a slow and deliberate voice.
"I take everything I do very seriously."
Taff leaned closer to examine the houses and carriages, which were only the size of grains of rice, carefully controlling her breathing.
"So what's the point of this thing? Is it just to be an expensive decorative piece? You plan to put it in the clock tower?"
That's just one of its functions.
Luo Yan smiled mysteriously.
He stretched out his hand and pressed his palm down lightly on top of the model.
In an instant, a cloud of azure mist rose from the bottom of the model, enveloping the entire miniature city.
Then, an incredible scene unfolded: the lifeless sand table seemed to come alive instantly!
The azure mist floating above the clock tower model began to flow slowly, gathering and dispersing, just like real clouds in the sky.
Taff stared in surprise.
She discovered that beneath that miniature cloud layer, a fine drizzle was indeed falling! Even the splashes of raindrops hitting the miniature street were clearly visible, exactly like the real weather outside the window. However, when she reached out to touch it, the scales showed no signs of dampness.
Raindrops are just projections!
"How did you do that?!"
Taff couldn't help but gasp in surprise.
This seems absolutely incredible! These natives, living in the early stages of the Industrial Revolution, actually managed to create a panoramic radar using magic?!
If her research vessel were still around, she would definitely have taken this native on board and kept him there!
Luo Yan looked at the flowing light and shadow and explained gently.
“When everyone is looking up at the clock tower, we are not only conveying the belief that ‘time is money,’ but also, through a subtle influence, borrowing from their eyes the scenery they saw a second earlier.”
Taff blinked, looking completely bewildered.
"Can you speak human language?"
“That’s plain language,” Luo Yan shrugged. “If I used magical terminology, such as ‘etheric resonance of visual persistence’ or ‘concentrated mapping of the collective subconscious,’ you would probably be even more confused.”
Although the specific implementation method is extremely complex, involving advanced applications of Netherworld Patterns and the analysis of rules, the underlying principle is not actually obscure.
The clock tower is no longer just a building; nurtured by the faith of millions of citizens, it has transformed into a sacred artifact.
All areas that can be looked up to it become its domain, and unlike the domain of demigods which are "ready to eat from the bag," this is an eternal domain.
Luo Yan made profound modifications based on this, and incorporated inspiration from the 440th virtual realm—those Solipsians were masters of constructing wonders, and their creation, the "Echo Gallery," greatly inspired him.
This clock tower and the panoramic model in front of us are just his first works, while the developing Grand Library and Encyclopedia will be the second wonder he has prepared for the world.
That one was just a little strange.
I don't know if it's because the citizens of Leiming City have read too many novels and the library isn't that mysterious, but the power of faith has been slow to gather.
This includes the Collins Theatre.
Although they are magnificent, they all seem to be missing a spark plug to ignite them.
What is this?
Suddenly, Taff extended her paw and pointed to a corner of the model.
At the edge of that flowing, azure cloud layer, a striking little brown dot suddenly appeared.
It was just a blurry patch of color, its exact outline indistinct due to the distance, but it was moving toward Thunder City at a constant speed.
Luo Yan also noticed the tiny mosaic, and a hint of surprise appeared on his slightly raised eyebrows, which then turned into a gentle smile.
"We have guests."
(End of this chapter)