After the first session of morning classes, many students remained in the opera house; some were rehearsing operas, while others sang in unison.
In this solemn and sacred atmosphere, a short, suspicious-looking old man was naturally very conspicuous.
Xu Xiaoyou glanced at Tang Xin in the distance, then at Da Finney, and followed him inconspicuously.
Da Finney scanned the surroundings warily, glancing at the nearby students. Confirming that no one’s eyes were on him, he pressed against the wall and stealthily climbed onto the stage. He pulled aside a curtain and quickly disappeared into the darkness behind it.
A warm breeze blew through the long corridor, the heating equipment humming as it operated. Colorful silk ribbons hung from above, refracting the light. Many paintings lined the corridor—all portraits of the masters who had created great works in the past.
He soon reached the end of the corridor, which was blocked by a wall. At the base of the wall stood several pillars with arched, recessed cross-sections, each holding a few pink flowers.
The entire area was cordoned off with red warning ropes. A portrait hung on this wall as well, depicting a man with dark red pupils wearing a black robe with red patterns. He sat upright with both hands on his knees, his piercing gaze staring straight ahead at an unknown point. From every angle, the man appeared noble and dignified.
Belvedere Divine Comedy.
Da Finney scanned the area warily once more, then stepped forward and pulled the flowers from the arched recesses in the order of one, three, and seven.
The moment he pulled the third flower, the wall trembled. As dust shook loose, a rumbling sound erupted, and the portrait changed.
The dignified man’s expression became distorted and terrifying. He opened his mouth wide, revealing sharp fangs, and his crimson pupils stared directly at the person in front of him.
Amidst the rumble of the internal wall mechanisms, the portrait split in two down the center, and the entire wall pushed inward.
In the dark corridor beyond, braziers lit up one by one with a 'whoosh.' The flickering firelight illuminated Da Finney's face; his expression remained unchanged as he walked quickly inside.
Rumble, rumble.
After a moment, the wall closed again. The man’s expression on the portrait returned to its dignified state. Ink as dark as blood seeped from the surface of the painting, and the mark where it had been split was repaired in the blink of an eye...
The smell in the corridor was unpleasant, filled with the pungent odor of expired paint. The air was damp, and moss grew in the corners. The deeper he went, the stronger the fishy smell of water became.
It was as if a wet rag had been forgotten in a corner of the world; by the time someone found it, its scent would be lethal.
Soon, Da Finney arrived before an iron door. A set of heavy armor stood tall in a proud posture before suddenly drawing the sharp blade at its waist!
The sword pointed directly at Da Finney's face.
"Passkey."
A sound like grinding gears came from beneath the armor.
This was a suit of armor imbued with magic by the stars. Even in the dim light, one could see through the gaps that it was empty inside; a palm-sized spider even scuttled from the right eye socket into the left.
Da Finney thought for a moment, then extended his index finger and pressed it slightly against the sword’s edge. Crimson blood flowed from his pricked fingertip, following the fuller of the blade all the way to the hilt.
"You... may pass."
Just as Da Finney was about to enter, the armor let out two sinister chuckles and blocked the iron door with its sword again.
It retracted the sword, held it in front of its chest, and tilted its head up at a forty-five-degree angle.
"Rules cannot be broken."
"Junzi, you've gone too far. You charged me a toll just the last time I came..." Da Finney's face looked grim. "If I raise an alarm to the academy, the student council's self-defense force will be here in a minute."
"You are still a wanted criminal, aren't you?"
"You!" Da Finney's eyes widened, but for the sake of his important business, he swallowed his indignation. With a huff, he fished a shell-shaped object from his pocket and stuffed it into the armor’s hand.
Junzi weighed the inspiration in its hand, and a human-like smile actually appeared on its helmet. After pocketing the item, it stepped aside and opened the iron door.
"Go on, then. Mr. Vantel has been waiting for you for a long time, my dear Lord Da Finney."
Da Finney snorted coldly and entered the room.
Junzi resumed its arrogant posture, until a short while later, a girl wearing a military coat with dazzling blonde hair appeared before it.
"Who are you?" Junzi asked, puzzled. "I don't think I've seen you before."
"But it doesn't matter. As long as you give me inspiration, I'll let you pass."
Xu Xiaoyou thought for a moment, fumbling in her pocket for a long time before extending her hand—it was empty.
"You dare toy with me!" Junzi grew enraged.
The armor was about to draw its sword when it saw a smirk play on Xu Xiaoyou's lips.
"A spiritual-type urban eldritch creature?"
Junzi froze, a sense of dread filling its mind. A bloody fissure opened on the girl's cheek...
As if seeing something utterly terrifying, white smoke began to pour from the gaps in its armor, and it began to claw at its own body in agony. At a certain point, as if it had lost all support, the armor suddenly collapsed into a heap on the floor. Over a hundred pieces of inspiration clattered out from within the suit.
"Quite a haul."
A tool card appeared in Xu Xiaoyou's hand. She gathered all the inspiration and Junzi's components, then pushed open the iron door and continued forward.
In a hall radiating an aura of decay, a red carpet stretched from the entrance toward the far end, where a round table sat. A hole was broken into the dark, deep ceiling, allowing several shafts of grayish-white light to slant in, illuminating the murals on the ceiling. It looked like a forgotten palace.
Around the room, many suits of armor similar to Junzi stood tall and stern, clutching various weapons. At the very back were two giant guardian statues; they had six wings on their backs, and their massive blades were thrust into the ground, casting large shadows.
A murderous atmosphere filled the air.
A man sat at the round table, though not at the head. A drawing board stood before him, and this underground palace was being painted on it in a watercolor style—a classic impressionist piece.
Silence reigned until the little old man appeared.
He walked in grumbling, kicked a suit of armor hard, and then hopped around holding his leg.
"Vantel, I've told you more than once that those armors have disciplinary issues, haven't I?"
"They extort me every single time. Must we meet in this place?"
Vantel put down his brush. "The tuners have eyes almost everywhere on the Star of Art. The academy is actually the most peaceful place. If Belvedere found out you were still alive, he would turn the Star of Art upside down to find you."
"Though those armors have flaws, they are truly like gentlemen in character. At least after taking your payment, they won't betray you."
"Nonsense! Their sentience was given by the Starry. Of course they can't violate a contract under the Starry!"
"Wait, why are you alone? Where are Vandoni and that kid Lancelot?"
Vantel looked up, his expression serious. "Lancelot... he's in trouble."
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