Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic-Chapter 1044: Sir, Angel, and Diviner

The suspended chains clanged loudly, signifying the airborne demon’s desperate struggle. When it realized it couldn’t break free from these chains, muck spread from its form, accumulating more and more dark sludge in the sky. It rose high, obscuring the moonlight and the starry sky covered by snowfall, as a dragon made of black mud slowly took shape.

"Oh, has it devoured the desires of a dragon as well?"

The doctor said with a somewhat surprised smile, looking with Shard at the dragon that completely blocked most of the starry sky.

Fortunately, it was night now, and in this era, even city dwellers mostly suffered from night blindness, so the Church didn’t even need to find ways to explain it; people would naturally assume it was just a strangely shaped black cloud.

"Is it alright?"

The doctor asked Shard, and Shard nodded:

"If it’s a dragon, all the better. Doctor, you should go down to respond. Swallow the demon and leave directly; I’ll find you tomorrow afternoon."

"No problem, you’ve worked hard this time."

The doctor patted Shard on the shoulder, leaping off the terrace and vanishing into the night.

Surveying the streets, the church’s personnel had already surrounded the area. It wouldn’t be easy for the doctor to leave safely later.

The eerie music finally stopped, and amidst the uproar came the sound of many footsteps in the previously silent concert hall.

Shard turned slightly, seeing that the black mist summoned by the demon had dispersed. Around twenty Circle Sorcerers from the church surrounded the stage, including Miss Green, whom Shard was familiar with, and seven high-ring sorcerers. One of them had been seen at the tavern a few hours ago, clearly a professor from one of the Three Great Magic Academies.

They had come tonight originally for the bard "Keeper of Secrets" and hadn’t expected a demon to appear. Their hurried preparations allowed them to promptly resolve peripheral trouble, indeed acting rapidly, though Shard had already finished his part.

The Grand Witch of Space, Emma Sylvia, had not left and, along with two Princesses, was looking up at the stage.

The interior lights were all out by now, and the music had fully stopped. All was silent, with only a small patch of moonlight casting down onto the stage from the terrace.

From their perspective, they could barely see Shard holding a chain, retreating back to the stage outside the terrace, standing in that patch of moonlight. Above, a decaying black mud dragon opened its mouth wide.

"God Summoner?"

A middle-aged Twelve-Ring Sorcerer from the Church of Creation asked softly, being the strongest present.

Shard glanced at them without speaking. His peripheral vision caught a glimpse of Lecia under the stage – the red-haired princess noticed Shard’s small movement too.

Gripping the Higgs Dragonhead Stone in his right hand, under the only starlight at the dark edge of the stage, Shard took a deep breath, puffed his chest, and slightly tilted his head back, as dazzling silver moonlight uncontrollably shot out from his mouth, eyes, nasal cavity, ears, and even every tiny pore on his face.

Sounds emanated from his chest like the ancient low growl of a dragon.

Under the watchful eyes of the sorcerers by the stage, the princesses, and the witch by the stage –

Roar!

A brilliant silver pillar of light erupted from Shard’s mouth, with a strong recoil that left a web of fine cracks on the stage.

The silver pillar of light itself was silent, effortlessly penetrating the black muddy dragon beneath the snow-filled starry sky, even piercing through the clouds behind it, revealing a magnificent circular starry sky rarely seen in winter.

If anyone looked up at Tobesk Southern Part’s sky right now, they could easily see the tilted light pillar leaving a lasting bright trail under the starry sky.

The demon’s form was hit squarely by the Dragon Breath, plunging the muck to the ground where Dr. Schneider was waiting.

Beneath the stage, Lecia clutched the edge of her skirt tightly, her face flushed with excitement. Princess Margaret slightly opened her mouth, still unable to comprehend the fact that Shard was a Four-Ring Sorcerer.

Miss Sylvia reminisced about the Midshire Fort battle records, her gaze toward Shard in front of the terrace growing more fervent.

Shard noticed Miss Sylvia’s arrival but required no witch’s help. Holding his chest, he coughed a few times before turning to the church’s Circle Sorcerers:

"You’ve arrived too late."

Due to slight damage to his lungs, his voice sounded rather strange at the moment.

"Wait, we can discuss..."

Miss Green from the Sun Church hadn’t finished her words when a giant snowball smashed onto the stage, separating Shard at the terrace door from the people around the stage.

This snowball, though difficult to melt, was merely a nuisance before the five High Ring Sorcerers. Once they melted it and reached the terrace, they could only see a sea of crimson Red Butterflies flying toward the distant night sky.

As the people in the concert hall, from which the black mist had dispersed, watched the multitude of Red Butterflies under the starry sky, the Lyra was strummed. A young man, wearing a dashing white shirt, green coat, tied bell-bottom pants, and brown leather boots, stepped out from backstage, stopped in that small patch of moonlight by the terrace door.

He plucked the strings and sang, his gentle voice dispelling the effects on ordinary people of the Third Era evil spirit’s appearance, his song revealing the bard’s test:

"The Hero triumphed over the demon,

transforming into Red Butterflies that flew into the snowy night.

The bright Moon,

illuminating the Hero’s journey home.

Silver is the posture of sanctity and madness,

Red is the posture of flesh and reproduction,

Yellow is the posture of guidance and chaos.

Lonely, desolate moon,

Why do you appear from the clouds,

Melancholy, beautiful moon,

Why do you reappear in my dreams?

People who long for rewards,

Please pluck for me that noble moon~"

Here he sang aloud, reminding people of the test’s content:

"Yes,

In this city of progress and development,

I wish to accompany that noble moon.

That yellow moon,

The power that guides wisdom.

Please pluck for me,

Pluck for me that yellow moon."

With the song ending, the bard bowed to the Circle Sorcerers of the Church. Upon hearing Iluna’s initial applause, he smiled again:

"I’m glad you enjoyed my singing voice. When you bring me what I want, I will appear before you."

As he spoke, the music spread a green radiance, restoring sanity to the musicians controlled by demons. He then smiled and thanked Iluna for her applause. As the Whisper-Ring of Fate appeared with "song" behind Iluna, the bard sang and played while stepping out of the terrace, walking up invisible stairs higher into the starry sky filled with red butterflies.

"If I understood correctly, he wants us in Tobesk City to get him the yellow moon in March..."

Lady Mallory, the Ten-Ring Sorcerer of the Church of Nature, softly asked. The lady appeared very young, as sorcerers of the Church of Nature often look younger than those of the same age.

"It should be a metaphor, not really to pluck a moon."

Miss Green said, her eyes looking at the large swarm of red butterflies dancing under the night sky.

Large swathes of red butterflies danced under the moonlit night, most being illusions crafted from illusions. Shard, who had also heard the bard’s song, walked excitedly home after landing.

Also walking in the alley behind the Opera House, Lakin Prisia heard the faint song and determined this was the task of the "Keeper of Secrets" as mentioned by the demon.

He looked up at the red butterflies under the night sky from the dark alley entrance, pondering over what the "yellow moon" referred to. Just as he was about to enter the dark alley, he suddenly heard a stone scraping ground sound from behind.

He turned around and saw a gray angel statue covering its face with its hands, appearing under the street lamp ten steps away, without knowing when.

The elegant gentleman from the Southern Nation frowned slightly, stopped in his tracks to look at the statue, which also remained motionless under the gas lamp.

When Sir Prisia blinked, completing the motion of closing and opening his eyes, the statue seemed to move forward about two meters as if by spatial movement.

Sir Prisia instinctively took a step back but soon realized that retreating was not a good idea in this peculiar situation.

He fixed his gaze on the weeping angel statue, conjuring his spinning Ring of Fate in the deserted dark alley. He reached into his pocket for two pocket-sized hardcover books, hesitated a bit, then put back the knight novel and the Xerxes Higher Medical Academy textbook on dragon species:

"Could contact with demons really bring bad luck?"

He muttered, taking out three Sage’s Glowstones and tossing them towards the Ring of Fate behind him:

"Let’s see if the demon’s power is true — white wings flutter, Wisdom Angel descends."

The Core Spirit Rune "White Wing," the Whisper Spirit Rune "Fluttering Wings," and the three Sage’s Glowstones melted on the Ring of Fate, manifesting Miracle Spirit Runes "Angel," Desecration Spirit Runes "Descend," and Enlightenment Spirit Runes "Wisdom," all emanating a glow.

It resembled Sublimation Incantation, yet some unique power unfurled in the narrow alley. In the faint hymn, pure white wings appeared behind Lakin Prisia, with a peculiar golden halo hovering above his head, his entire being faintly glowing:

"Depart!"

In the angelic pose, he commanded the angel statue, but it did not retreat.

Sir Prisia’s mystical aura did not last long, merely a minute, before the bizarre phenomena faded entirely, leaving the gentleman of the Southern Nation, breathing heavily, staring at the angel statue with its hands covering its face.

The latter neither left nor advanced.

Thus, they stood in the snow for at least another five minutes, snow covering the statue’s head and the Sir’s hat, before a resounding voice reached Lakin Prisia’s ears:

"The bloodline power of the Cherub."

A peculiar light from the crossed forehead of the "Weeping Angel" flew towards Sir Prisia. As he felt a newfound power, the angel statue beneath the gas lamp had already vanished.

"So, the strange family legend is true..."

The thoughtful middle-aged man picked up the three Radiant Stones fallen on the ground, turned, and walked into the dark alley, leaving a trail of footprints on the snow-covered ground.

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