Chapter 712: 安魂谣

Chapter 713: Requiem

The voice resembled an operatic vocal style, yet it was distinct. It lacked the overly sharp falsetto, but it was imbued with power, like a sharp sword gently caressing the world in the most tender way… This was a ballad.

Wang Jincheng wondered if it was his imagination, but the moment the first line of the ballad rang out, the eerie winds swirling above the main city seemed to dissipate slightly. His previously tormented mind felt as if it had been soothed by the voice, and his heart gradually calmed.

"I hear your voice,""I smell longing blossoming among thorns,""I come from the direction of the sunset…"

Wang Jincheng lay there, listening to the ballad echo in his ears, as if some ineffable magic was healing the painful scars of this realm.

Soft footsteps—

As Wang Jincheng closed his eyes, enjoying the tranquility of the ballad, soft footsteps approached from a distance. He turned his head with difficulty and saw several tall figures in black suits slowly approaching amidst the fires and ruins of battle…

Impeccably clean black leather shoes stepped over the blood-soaked ground, the hems of their suits gently fluttering in the mournful wind. Some had one hand in their pockets, while others were solemnly adjusting their black ties, as if attending a solemn and grand ceremony. A corner of several high-quality black playing cards was visible in their chest pockets.

In this ravaged world, they arrived in full formal attire.

"…Twilight Society?" Wang Jincheng seemed to recall something upon seeing the playing cards and murmured to himself.

These five figures walked through the ruins, passing by Wang Jincheng. One young man with a wolf-tail hairstyle glanced at him before looking away and continuing forward. Finally, they reached the injured young man kneeling in the ruins.

"The Requiem has been sung…" Bai Ye said calmly, "Club 8, it's time for us to go."

Club 8's blood-stained face slowly lifted. He gazed at the flowing, grand red opera robe in the distant sky. After a long silence, he still pushed himself up with his hands on the ground, staggering to his feet…

He was once the Ninth Hall Master of the Ephemeral Painting, and now he was Club 8 of the Twilight Society. The Mortal Realm faced an extinction-level catastrophe, with lives being devastated. He had given his all to fulfill his duties as the former Ninth Hall Master… But now, everything was drawing to a close, and it was time for him to return to his true identity. He had failed to save the Mortal Realm. Since that was the case, he could only see the over two million victims off on their final journey.

"I'm sorry… I acted on my own initiative," Club 8 said miserably, lowering his head.

"Acted on your own initiative?" Chu Muyun raised an eyebrow and smiled, "What 'acted on your own initiative'… Weren't you accidentally drawn into this war? This was self-defense."

Club 8 was startled, then felt a warmth in his heart upon seeing the smiles on everyone's faces. Just then, as if remembering something, he looked down at his blood-soaked, tattered clothes and said bitterly, "But… I didn't have time to bring formal attire for the funeral."

"Minor issue." Club raised his hand and casually patted Club 8's shoulder. The tattered clothes instantly shimmered and transformed directly into a meticulously clean, neat, and highly formal black suit. Club then casually rubbed his fingers together, and a black Club 8 playing card was gently placed into his chest pocket.

"Thank you, Senior," Club 8 said respectfully upon seeing this.

At the same time, Bai Ye glanced at the empty space beside them. "Heart 9, how long do you plan to sneak around there?"

Club 8 was startled. Following Bai Ye's gaze, he saw the ground not far from him suddenly loosen, and a figure emerged directly from the earth—it was Heart 9!

Heart 9 stood firm, awkwardly dusting himself off. "Heheheh… How can you call it sneaking around? I was just passing by, just passing by."

Club 8's gaze immediately became peculiar.

"By the way, why is Heart 6 singing the Requiem this time?" Heart 9 asked, naturally changing the subject while putting on his suit. "Didn't they say only a few high-ranking members of the Twilight Society worldwide could sing it?"

Chu Muyun turned, looking at the grand red opera robe in the sky, his eyes filled with complexity. "It seems Heart 6 benefited greatly from the Ancient Opera Treasury during the six months he was missing… For him to have the support of four individuals simultaneously, how could this kid be simple? From now on, there's one more person in the world who can sing the Requiem… It's also a good thing for the Twilight Society."

"I'm going to say it again, also being of the '6' generation…"

"Stop it!" Jian Changsheng gritted his teeth and covered Heart 9's mouth. "I'll admit I'm not as smart as Heart! But this is exclusive to the Divine Opera Path; I wouldn't be able to learn it even if you broke me into pieces!"

"…I was just saying."

"Alright." Bai Ye spoke, and everyone immediately fell silent.

Seven figures in black suits stood together quietly, their gazes simultaneously fixed on the ruined Mortal Realm main city…

"…Let's get to work."

The grand red opera robe ascended the void step by step. Chen Ling's gaze fixed on the sea of souls enveloped in red lightning, while his mind replayed his Senior Brother Mojiao's patient voice from the Ancient Opera Treasury:

"Junior Brother, when singing the Requiem, the most important thing is to use your own soul as a medium…""Allow the tone of each part of the ballad to resonate with your soul. This frequency of resonance is highly unique and requires extensive practice to master…""Junior Brother, you sang this part incorrectly. Listen to me sing it again…"

The mournful cold wind brushed Chen Ling's cheek. Mojiao's face in his memory gradually faded, replaced by a desolate, dilapidated dead city.

Chen Ling took a deep breath, and the ballad he had practiced countless times in the Ancient Opera Treasury once again flowed from his throat:

"The earth and rose-red are your soft bed,""Frost and the setting sun are your rich makeup;""I will weave hope into dancing Kapok blossoms,""Until the rocks remember the fragrance of flowers…"

As Chen Ling's song unfolded, the sea of souls, which had been gradually twisting and shrinking, seemed to be affected by an external force. The originally ferocious and tormented souls simultaneously quieted down! The pain on their faces gradually vanished, replaced by a serenity they hadn't experienced in a long time, as if purified by some holy and grand power, all extreme emotions being cleansed.

The operation of the alchemy array suddenly paused! Immediately after, these souls no longer twisted or deformed, nor did they condense into the shape of the Philosopher's Stone under the influence of the electric light. Instead, they seemed to awaken their own consciousness and drifted away in all directions!