Chapter 643

The fourth wall is the boundary between the "stage" and the "audience." Performances on stage do not spill over to the audience, nor can the audience intervene in the show. As long as the "fourth wall" exists, a story remains just a story.

The painting displayed before Chen Ling's eyes was also merely a "story."

Bombers buzzed overhead, and innocent residents wailed in a sea of flames. Chen Ling watched firsthand as vibrant bodies fell before him, yet there was no emotional fluctuation in his scarlet eyes.

The figure in red stood quietly there, like an "audience member" who had stumbled into the scene.

At that moment, all the characters from the painting who had been pursuing him froze in place. The roars, bellows, and cries ceased abruptly.

They stared in terror at the figure in red. In a trance, the very presence of the red figure seemed to become ethereal, as if existing in the same dimension as them, yet at times seeming not to exist at all. He stood between "reality" and "unreality," elusive and unfathomable.

They stopped, but Chen Ling did not.

Chen Ling continued to approach the soldier's corpse.

Scarlet embers flickered in Chen Ling's eyes, bearing seven parts indifference and three parts mockery, just like the myriad "eyes of the audience" in the void behind him. The only difference between him and those "audience members" was that he wore vibrant clothes and had a face with distinct features.

But now, his face was devoid of expression, and even his features gradually blurred, beginning to lose the characteristics of "Chen Ling."

He was transforming into an "audience member."

The soldier's corpse, like a mountain, floated in the void. It made no sound, but the emotional radiation it emitted contained thousands of years of ceaseless furious roars!

"They all deserve to die!!!"

"I will kill these invaders! I will make them pay for everyone in this city with their lives!!"

"Come on! Come on!!"

"My sword will shatter everything! Even if I've lost everything!!"

"No... no!"

"Why... why can't I do anything?!! Why!!"

"Damn it... damn it!! I'm too weak... I'm so unwilling... I'm so resentful!!!"

Deafening roars, mingled with the invisible emotions, echoed within "Guernica."

The figure in red calmly walked beneath him, emotionlessly grasped the broken sword beside the soldier, then raised it with one hand...

And gently swung it down.

*Buzz—!!*

The soldier's resentful roars ceased abruptly.

That body, hundreds of times larger than Chen Ling, slowly split apart from the center, as if an invisible sword had descended from the heavens, cleaving it in two. Its body dissolved into the void, the thousand years of anger and resentment contained within it as fragile as paper under this single sword strike.

Scarlet embers drifted from the corners of Chen Ling's eyes. He held the broken sword in one hand, watching the scene expressionlessly, like an indifferent "audience member."

"What concern is your anger to me?"

This sword strike not only shattered the soldier's body but also all its emotions. From the fragmented body, endless resentment and hatred transformed into a nearly substantial black mist, surging wildly towards Chen Ling, already seeing him as an outlet for its rage.

But the presence of the "fourth wall" blocked all these resentful emotions from reaching him. The swirling black mist surged, but could not touch the figure in red in the slightest!

Chen Ling paid no attention to this, instead casting his gaze behind him, at the other characters frozen in place.

Although these characters dared not provoke Chen Ling, their very presence contained an extremely dense emotional energy. Though these emotions were silent, they spread like radiation, and were incredibly noisy in Chen Ling's ears.

"So hot!! I'm so hot!!"

"Someone save my child... He's dying, someone save him!"

"I don't want to die, I don't want to die!! I've only lost a leg, I can still crawl... Don't leave me!!"

"My home is destroyed, my wife and children are dead! These damned beasts..."

The existence of any one of them represented ultimate despair and suffering. No one could remain unmoved by the emotions radiating from them. When these radiating emotions accumulated, they could drive anyone in the world to madness... except Chen Ling.

Chen Ling, sword in hand, treading on nothingness, approached them step by step.

The sword rose, then fell.

The woman closest to him, clutching a child, was instantly cut in half at the waist, followed by the woman beside her, engulfed in flames. Chen Ling expressionlessly sliced them all to pieces before him, and their pained pleas ceased abruptly.

Chen Ling did not find them pitiful, only noisy.

Their uncontrollable resentment surged wildly towards Chen Ling, but was blocked by the "fourth wall." As Chen Ling killed more and more characters, a dark cloud seemed to swirl around him, grim and terrifying!

"Alas..."

Just then, a sigh echoed from the void.

Within "Guernica" now, all characters had been slaughtered by Chen Ling, and Plum Blossom 8 was deep in a coma. This sudden sigh was as clear as a flash of lightning across a dark night.

Chen Ling, shrouded in the black cloud, unconsciously furrowed his brow.

"...Who?"

Chen Ling's gaze swept across his surroundings, but he saw no figure. However, the "audience" eyes in the void behind him seemed to sense something, simultaneously locking onto a specific direction.

In the dark void, a theatrical curtain was slowly drawn open.

"'I see the sky is weeping'..."

A figure in a theatrical robe stood behind the void curtain. He did not step out, but rather like an actor standing on a stage, with one hand behind his back. A melodic ballad echoed within the void.

The moment this line of the ballad rang out, Chen Ling's body trembled violently!

"'I hear your voice;'"

"'I smell longing blooming in thorns,' "

"'I come from the direction of the sunset'..."

As these four lines of the ballad were uttered, the swirling black cloud around Chen Ling suddenly paused. The resentment and unwillingness that had festered for thousands of years, like ice and snow struck directly by the blazing sun, melted and dissipated at a visible rate.

A secret technique of the Theater Arts — the Requiem Ballad.

The melodic ballad seemed to contain a gentle yet powerful force, cleansing the resentment around Chen Ling. The singing struck against the "fourth wall" and was reflected away, but a portion of it quietly flowed into Chen Ling's ears.

Chen Ling was stunned.

The "audience" red light burning in his eyes was gradually suppressed by this gentle ballad, and his blurring features also stopped changing at that moment.

He stared blankly at the familiar theatrical robe beyond the void curtain and murmured:

"Ma... Master?"