Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal? Chapter 856.20: The Musician

Chapter 856.20: The Musician

...

Chen Huaian grasped the fragment of the ripped scroll.

Upon closer inspection, he saw it remained unchanged, bearing only vague, blurry symbols. No matter how hard one strained to focus, the characters refused to sharpen into clarity.

Every move he made fell under Bi Yue Wu's vigilant watch.

Hiding it proved impossible. The scroll piece had emerged, impossible to conceal from Bi Yue Wu's eyes. Chen Huaian grew even less motivated to hide it. If Bi Yue Wu spotted it, fine by him. To Bi Yue Wu, this fragment was merely a useless bit of blank parchment.

"Such a shame for that other Immortal Elder," Chen Huaian sighed, his regret seeming utterly sincere. "These floating peaks' palaces are truly bizarre and perilously deadly. For an Immortal elder to suffer such a grim fate... It proves the architect of these peaks was a supremely mighty Immortal."

Bi Yue Wu glared at Chen Huaian with icy disdain.

Mere drivel. Did this lowly mortal cultivator really need to spell out the obvious?

He thrust his hand toward Chen Huaian. "Hand it over!"

Chen Huaian showed no hesitation, promptly passing the freshly obtained scroll fragment to Bi Yue Wu.

Bi Yue Wu seized the scroll, flipping it back and forth, scrutinizing it thoroughly.

Still nothing but trash paper.

"What use is this junk paper to you?" He arched a brow, eyes locked on Chen Huaian.

"I'm simply a collector of ancient relics. Found in this old ruin, even blank, I want to hold onto this scroll piece."

"Hah, as a clan treasure?"

"You could say that."

Bi Yue Wu paused briefly before flinging the scroll fragment back at Chen Huaian.

Chen Huaian grinned, waving his hand lightly, and the scroll flew back into his palm.

Now fully convinced, Bi Yue Wu truly couldn't perceive the dim, shimmering text on the scroll.

Yet Bi Yue Wu was no idiot. Suspicion must have already taken root in him.

No matter.

This Underground Palace rejected Immortals like Bi Yue Wu entirely.

Even collecting every scroll fragment would yield Bi Yue Wu nothing.

They belonged to him alone in the end.

...

The prior Ten Suns Hanging in the Sky trial had likely served as the test.

Below the iron-chain bridge now lay only turbulent emptiness, no trace of the prior bizarre magma.

Clouds and fog parted at the chain's end.

The third floating peak hovered silently amid the void.

No scorching blaze like earlier, no freezing gales either.

Only utter calm prevailed here.

Complete, suffocating quiet.

Even the group's footsteps on the stone stairs vanished into the void, producing no echo whatsoever.

"Brother Chen, this feels off!"

Zhang Yibai tried to shout.

Terror struck as he realized his throat moved, but no sound emerged.

A realm of absolute silence reigned.

All noise banned.

Chen Huaian glanced back, nodding at Zhang Yibai and signaling the others to trail him closely.

He shoved open the massive palace gates.

A barren, decaying grand hall greeted them.

Scattered everywhere lay myriad wrecked musical instruments.

A qin with severed strings, a splintered se, corroded bianzhong bells, dust-choked paixiao panpipes...

Piled in disorder, they formed an instrument burial ground.

At the hall's heart, a skeletal old man's stone statue sat in lotus position.

Across his lap rested a half-ruined ancient jiaowei qin.

Chen Huaian advanced slowly.

Only up close did the statue's horrific details emerge.

The elder's features were lean and elegant, but his face twisted in wild, hopeless rage.

Two massive bronze spikes impaled his ears, burrowing into his skull.

All ten fingers severed, leaving stumps that clawed at vanished strings in mad frenzy, as if unleashing a last mute symphony.

The Blind Musician — Shi Kuang.

Chen Huaian halted.

The oppressive silence in the air began to waver.

Golden text, mournful and wailing, materialized on the fractured qin.

[All men seek heavenly music.]

[Little do they know, heavenly music is a cage.]

[The gods do not wield swords, the gods only whisper.]

[The wind's sound is a command, the rain's sound is a lock, the heartbeat is a rhythm forcibly imposed upon men by the gods.]

[The gods use 'perfect' melodies to weave laws, alter perceptions, and tame all living beings.]

[Those who comply prosper, those who defy perish?]

[Hah...]

[I pierced my own ears deaf, only to not hear the gods' commands; I severed my ten fingers, only to not play decadent tunes.]

[Those who come after, remember this.]

[Divine music is the rule.]

[Do not listen. Do not comply.]

[Only extreme 'chaos' and 'defiance' can shatter that perfect cage!]

The text cut off there.

Boom—!

Sudden and unheralded.

The silence exploded.

A sound emerged.

Not a shrill blast, not a monstrous bellow.

Pure... perfection.

An unimaginable, transcendent, flawless tune.

As if the Great Dao thundered, as if truth itself chanted.

Against this harmony, Chen Huaian felt like worthless specks of dirt, grotesque as filth.

Submit.

Kneel.

Melt into this flawless rhythm, merge with heaven and earth's grand design.

Thump.

A heavy thud echoed from behind.

Wang Shouyi, weakest in resolve, dropped to his knees.

A dazed, ecstatic grin lit his face, eyes hollow and lost. His hands rose to clutch his throat, squeezing harder and harder.

Suffocation gripped him, yet the smile persisted, veins throbbing on his hands.

Gu Changsheng sobbed and cackled madly. He yanked a dagger from his robes, hand shaking as he aimed it at his chest, tempted to rip open and check if his pulse matched the flawless beat. A faint thread of sanity held the blade back.

Even Zhang Yibai's gaze started to dull.

His sword clanged to the floor, knees buckling slightly.

Annihilation of the spirit.

Gods required no action.

Gods merely convinced you your existence was a "flaw."

Chen Huaian stood firm.

His eyes burned cold and fierce, locked on Shi Kuang's statue.

"Perfection?"

Blood trickled from Chen Huaian's mouth corner.

To remain aware, he'd bitten his tongue while channeling the Green Lotus Sword Manual.

Hum—! Ferocious Sword Intent erupted from him like blazing fire.

The floor shattered around him, etched with intricate sword scars.

Chen Huaian strode toward Shi Kuang's statue.

Pressure mounted with every step.

Nearby, each footfall carved deep prints into the stone.

Shi Kuang reenacted his ancient ordeal for him.

The burden on Chen Huaian was likely a mere fraction of Shi Kuang's trial.

Still, his body quaked uncontrollably.

His mind replayed Shi Kuang's final memory—the elder confronting the cloud-shrouded horror, snapping every qin string, pouring his life into a note beyond pentatonic scales and twelve tones!

"If order is what you crave..."

Chen Huaian whirled, eyes landing on the corroded bronze bianzhong bells in the hall's corner.

His hand rested on his sword but stayed sheathed.

Instead, he seized a hefty stone stool nearby, summoning every ounce of power, fueled by fury. No finesse, just raw, savage—

Destruction!

Clang—!!! A harsh, grating, discordant clamor burst into the pristine harmony.

Like ink blotting pure water.

Like a dull blade scraping silk.

A fissure tore through the flawless melody.

"Ah—!!"

From cloudy depths, an enraged wail seemed to resound.

"Shatter for This Venerable One!"

Chen Huaian bellowed, hoisting the stool once more, hammering wildly at all nearby.

Crushing the ruined qin, splintering the paixiao, demolishing every symbol of "music."

Crash, clang—!

Shattering crashes, heavy thumps, metal screeches blended into a hideous, turbulent cacophony.

Yet this din... meant liberation.

Pfft!

Wang Shouyi coughed blood violently, awareness flooding back. He released his throat in panic, gulping air.

Gu Changsheng's dagger slipped free, body crumpling in cold sweat.

Zhang Yibai snapped alert, steadying against a pillar, eyes wide with dread.

The flawless tune crumbled utterly amid Chen Huaian's chaotic uproar.

The hall plunged back into silence.

Only Chen Huaian's labored gasps rang clear.

Crack.

Shi Kuang's statue in the center fractured slowly.

A scorched-edged torn scripture scroll drifted above the statue's broken hand.

Chen Huaian approached, claimed the scripture, and stowed it in his robes.

Silent, he offered a profound bow to the rubble heap.

...

At the grand hall's entrance.

Bi Yue Wu observed the spectacle in silence.

The music hadn't assailed him.

He'd never entered the hall.

Though blind to the interior, he sensed it all.

That instant's Dao pressure—even he found chilling... broken by this mortal... using a rock?

"...This brat."

Bi Yue Wu's tone rasped, laced with faint menace. "Must not survive."

"But don't act hastily!"

Bi Yue Wu's eyes flickered oddly.

An alien voice escaped his lips, yet he remained oblivious. A vicious, toxic smirk twisted his bloodied, dirt-streaked face, amplifying his savagery.

"The path stretches far."

"Let him pave it."

"Once he gathers everything..."

"This Venerable One will teach him the essence of true... Immortal arts."

...