He is the leader of the Tantric sect in Chagdu.

Chapter 65 Light White

Palpitations.

The shrunken valves twitched as if dying, their weak pulsations bringing an unprecedented sense of weakness.

It's unclear when it started, but the pair of flapping giant wings silently stopped, slowly freezing in mid-air, turning into a hideous silhouette.

Charon slowly narrowed his eyes—why?

He watched that petite, slender figure from afar; even her mere walking gave off a sense of fragility—the girl was more delicate than the veins of a flower, as light as a feather bending in the wind.

His light, airy steps seemed to tread on Charon's spine, the earth's gravity bending his body, followed by an irresistible tremor—

Why?

The old pastor felt an inexplicable anger; he was strangely angry, perhaps more akin to "doubt" than anger. He didn't understand why he was trembling until doubt was extracted from his withered bones.

Fear grows from the seeds of doubt.

Meeting Charon's murky gaze, the girl staggered to the front of everyone.

"Father."

When she spoke, her voice was still as soft as a lamb grazing.

"I heard birdsong, with a meaning I'd never known before—it called me here. Please forgive the sheep, they are being looked after by the wolf cubs. Even if I leave temporarily, they will be safe and sound—"

Those golden-red eyes were filled with an almost overwhelming anticipation.

"Has the trial begun?"

—Trials.

Charon stared intently at his adopted daughter, who seemed no different from anyone else yet was incomprehensibly unfamiliar, and forced a stiff smile: "Anda, stop it—"

"Father."

This was the first time Anda had interrupted her adoptive father. She was rarely this brave, which was consistent with the image she projected to everyone—a taciturn shepherdess who would involuntarily retreat when she saw someone take a step forward, until she hid in a corner like a timid sheep.

Charon never developed any understanding of her adopted daughter, who was well-behaved, never showed any aggression, and seemed forever harmless. In a village belonging to birds, lambs were outcasts who didn't need attention; her humility and weakness did not belong to the sky.

"I grew up in Agdewe—and I also hope to witness this trial, the trial of the birds, and if possible, I would like to participate in it."

However, at this moment, Anda was moving forward instead. The girl used her shepherd's staff to support her already swaying body, and she took small steps, still using polite language as usual.

"Father, what you speak of comes from the grace and exaltation of God—"

Anda smiled and asked, "Could I have some?"

""

Charon's first reaction was to be speechless. The eloquent old priest could have used countless words to gloss over the current situation, but as he looked at the girl approaching step by step, he opened his mouth but could not speak. An unparalleled pressure took over his mind.

"Don't come any closer—"

He took a step back uncontrollably—

The wings that had recently brought him glory and divinity now seemed like servants facing a true king—defying their master's will, they curled up little by little, conforming to his spine.

So its wings folded silently, as if it were filled with fear and trepidation.

"Don't come any closer!"

The old pastor let out a shrill scream, staggered back two steps, and barely managed to stay upright. Almost simultaneously, a resolute command escaped his lips: "My adopted daughter has been corrupted by the devil. Kill her!"

Even though the other promoted individuals around them also endured the pervasive palpitations, their long-standing obedience to Charon had seeped into their very being.

A young bone eagle, holding a ritual bone spear, had its bone wings on its back seemingly clamped between its spine by some force, causing its movements to be somewhat unnatural, but it still charged toward Anda with a limp.

Abram, on the other side, quickly realized what was happening and was about to rush over to help, but found it was too late to stop the situation. "Stop!"

"How incredibly stupid! How incredibly stupid—do all winged people become stupid?!"

At the same time as his reprimand, a bright and clear murmur came from the hillside.

The next moment, the charging bone eagle's eyes became cloudy for a moment, as if black dust was surging within them. Then, without warning, it fell to the ground, as if it had lost consciousness instantly. Its twisted limbs went limp on the ground, and then it fell silent.

The cursing man appeared from around the bend in the mountain, with the pale-skinned little girl still sitting on his shoulder. To make climbing easier, Ai had her on his neck, making them look like a father and daughter.

Not far away, another group of promoted individuals had already fallen into turmoil, and Charon, along with others, was so shocked that he could hardly speak.

"That outsider—how is that possible?"

Everything that had happened today was challenging his understanding of the world. Charon's eyes were practically bloodshot. "You're not dead?"

"Damn it, even if I die, I'll never die—oh, I forgot, you old codger, your mom's probably already turned to ashes—"

It gave the old man in the countryside a taste of modern culture shock, while completely ignoring Charon's extremely distorted expression.

Ai sighed deeply, then turned to Anda with resentment and said, "Even if you've made up your mind to end all this—at least make proper preparations before you set off! Are you planning to deal with this old man like this?"

"Because I believe in Lot."

Anda narrowed her eyes, her aura of a wicked woman growing increasingly intense. "You promised me you would come to witness my future—"

She blinked.

"Isn't that right?"

The fox's arrogant nature was getting the better of him, and he muttered to himself while unable to suppress the upward curve of his lips: "Just think of me as someone who's just here to watch the show—it's not like I'm doing this for you."

He drifted away, rubbed his hands together, and looked at the circle of winged beings standing guard around him, frowning slightly: "How do we deal with these guys?"

He quietly wiped his neck and mouthed: "Get rid of them all?"

—Wait, something seems a bit complicated—

I don't care about myself, but if I can't wipe them all out in an instant, Anda and the others will be in danger.

The upper bishop's henchmen had already surrounded Charon in the center, with guns from Dunling pointed at Anda, Ai, and the three who were rushing over.

"Disgusting old man—he keeps saying he hates the outside world, but he's still using external forces to maintain his elder rule."

Ai yawned and chuckled, "Why don't you just say these guns are corrupted by demons?"

He shielded Anda behind him, stalling for time, and silently mixed the black ashes into the depths of each enemy's soul through the medium of his gaze—but there were too many of them, and even the condensed organs from the Silent Raven could not control such a massive amount of mysticism to create death in a short time.

That might require resorting to some unconventional methods —

But there was no rush. It was clear that Charon's attention was no longer on that. He was briefly shocked after seeing Rhodes "come back to life," but soon his gaze was like vines wrapped around a small figure.

He stared intently at the little girl on Ai's neck, his viscous gaze filled with a nauseating greed. "A purer kind of bird—so that's how it is."

The little girl didn't react much, still looking like she hadn't woken up yet. Ai quietly pressed her head against her back, hiding her behind her.

"I see, I see!"

After figuring something out, Charon suddenly went mad. He raised his hands and cried, "Anda, Lily, you two bastards deceived me! Hahahaha! The last fledgling I've been searching for—you hid it all away! Bastards! My ascension, my ascension has been dragged down by your stupidity!"

Extreme anger and obsession even overwhelmed the previous fear, and the pair of golden-red wings unfolded once more, presenting the beauty and sanctity of the wings and feathers to everyone once more.

Charon swallowed the regret and pain from a few seconds earlier from his parched throat, regaining his composure, with only the torrent of desire still surging in his eyes.

"Although it's too late to change, it doesn't matter anymore—as long as you die before I complete my trial, I will still be the bird closest to the sky, the only one who can redeem the Lord's favor, the only one who can lead Agdewe to escape the earth."

He patted the nearest bone eagle and whispered in a weary voice, "Kill them."

He turned around—

"By the way, have you ever seen a real 'flying bird'?"

The next moment, Ai's eerie voice suddenly rang out, accompanied by an omnipresent buzzing sound, as if carrying magic, causing the fingers pressed on the triggers to slowly loosen.

He spoke softly, as if in conversation: "'Birds'—of course not those sparrows, magpies, eagles, falcons that hover in the sky—those birds that can be seen everywhere. Although they have wings and can fly, they are merely dull and unintelligent animals. I think the 'birds' that Agdewey worships are born higher than them."

Birds and "birds" are two completely different kinds of life.

—Those children of the sky, the true winged beings, with wind, echoes, and the principles of flight flowing through their veins, are the "fellowships of the sky," innate mysterious creatures.

"That is the existence you yearn to become, but most winged beings still cannot understand those few 'birds' at the top — because their position is too high, even the farthest distance cannot be seen —"

Ai sighed, then changed the subject, chuckling, "But isn't it a coincidence—I happen to know a supreme 'bird,' would you like to meet Him?"

Under the influence of the spell, each of the Archbishops fell into a deep longing, and guided by some desire, they began to nod quietly.

Even Charon turned around without realizing it.

"That was truly—so much fun!"

Ai could no longer suppress the wild laughter on his lips. He gently raised his palm upwards, as if black rain was falling from his palm.

Let's begin.

The entire world trembled almost imperceptibly—

"boom----"

It seemed as if a table was almost overturned, but something tiny and insignificant emerged silently and righted the nearly collapsed stage.

"Be careful, be gentler."

He swallowed hard and whispered.

"Coo coo, slow down—"

"Boom—" The world trembled silently once more after the echoing sound.

Ai recently figured out some of the rules of this world.

In this era, which is even older than noon, the boundary between nature and mystery is more distinct than in later generations. The complete "upper" and "lower" layers a "membrane" over the outer and inner walls of this world, making the hidden Grand Ritual Pool almost impossible to see from the present world.

Therefore, in the land of Ys, the power of material and technology is far more formidable than imagined, while mysterious forces are merely a "subordinate" force, with their potential far lower than in later generations.

This means that more force is needed to lift the table than you might imagine.

But this also shows that this historical event is more solid than Ai had previously imagined—if external help is used, perhaps something extraordinary could be shaken down by simply wiggling the table legs.

"An era before noon—the Winter Criterion—had not yet died, and it was even unknown whether it had been born. But the Raven told me—there was once a white dove that remembered everything that had passed. Since this history has been able to exist, then it must have already existed."

"This Sichen, who remembers everything, must be one of the highest and most magnificent 'flying birds'."

95

Unlike the "Silent Secret Sequel" that Ai Yi held in his hands during the Nest era, the original text that descended upon him now was a pale white that had no presence whatsoever; it was a projection originating from "Silent Raven".

The power of Ash and Winter is one—the white dove's remembrance and the black raven's recollection, which is why the original can also exist in this era.

Ai stared intently at his palm. He could already hear the cooing of birds in his ears, but even after being diluted countless times, this excessively powerful force was still too much for a "reverberation" to bear.

He watched as the silent secrets coalesced into a blurry shadow in his hand, then the cover was removed, the colors faded, almost all the pages were removed, until there was nothing left to remove, leaving only a thin sheet of white paper, yet it still couldn't squeeze into this world.

—Still not working?

"Damn it, how am I supposed to keep up this act?"

Ai was a little overwhelmed by the stares. "This is so embarrassing!"

Anda, standing to the side, had no idea what he was doing, so she simply looked at him with adoration.

The little girl who had been sitting silently on Ai's shoulders seemed to have woken up from a very deep dream, her pale eyes silently looking into Ai's palm.

But the next moment, the phenomenon suddenly changed.

As if instantly imbued with the foundation of existence, that bone-white page solidified in Ai's hand:

The paper, like the ash of burnt charcoal, is covered with dense, pale ink marks. It is ivory, lilies, and bones—the moment one's gaze meets it, one's mind is filled with an immeasurable amount of information, like a scroll of memories recording all eras and all their fragmented past events, its meaning completely unreadable.

In the next instant, it transformed into a pale white hue, silent and still, clinging to Ai's back like a wing.

And so he really did grow wings—

A pair of illusory wings, pale white like bones stripped of flesh and blood.