Communicating with them at a specific frequency could greatly protect oneself and prevent conflict. When one's level was high enough, they could even influence or command these beasts, and even the eerie.
Reading this, Lu Yuan was reminded of Sandworm Town.
Back then, Karl had taught him to play the Song of the Sandworm. Once the bone flute sounded, the sandworms indeed calmed down. That was truly a form of communication.
He continued reading.
The book then described the decline of Ancient Music Theory.
There were two reasons.
The first was the extremely high barrier to entry.
In the early stages of training Ancient Music Theory, there were almost no means of self-preservation. Even if you learned the melodies and could play the tunes, before reaching a certain threshold, that bit of skill was practically useless when facing a true eerie or an enraged giant beast.
Moreover, reaching that threshold took too long, and most people could not hold out until that day.
The second reason was even more fatal: more convenient methods eventually emerged.
Transcendent pathways were opened one by one—Believer, Knowledge, Eerie, each with its own route. They offered rapid training, quick results, and solid combat and defensive capabilities. Who would still be willing to spend years or even decades grinding away at Ancient Music Theory, which was slow and lacked guarantees?
Over time, Ancient Music Theory fell into decline.
Lu Yuan flipped through these pages, and the main text of the book entered its core section.
The core of Ancient Music Theory lay in the melodies.
Different melodies corresponded to different targets. Sandworms had the Song of the Sandworm, and other beasts had other tunes. Each piece was painstakingly discovered through repeated trial and error by predecessors. Without the corresponding melody, it was impossible to communicate with the corresponding existence.
Aside from the "difficulty," the biggest reason for its decline was that the melodies had been lost to time.
Those who could play them died, those who could blow them died, and the music scores became fragmented, broken across generations, or lost. A complete Ancient Music Theory melody was an extremely rare thing in this era.
The book mentioned an exception.
Unless one trained Ancient Music Theory to the absolute limit, a stage known as "Melody from the Heart."
At that realm, even without a set melody, one could communicate with all things in the world. No corresponding tunes or specific frequencies were needed; wherever one's thoughts directed, all things would respond.
But such a person had never appeared in the Empire; it was merely a theoretical concept.
Lu Yuan stared at the words "Melody from the Heart" for a couple of breaths before flipping the page.
It was too far off to even consider. Although he could see his experience bar, his improvement was actually not very obvious except when he came into contact with new knowledge or the eerie. Counting it up, it had been nearly a year since he arrived in this world.
If he hadn't been constantly on the run, he might have been able to improve his other methods besides Forbidden Lore. As for Forbidden Lore, this thing was very difficult to level up without coming into contact with new eerie entities and pollution.
Forcing himself, a Knowledge transcendent, to delve into danger...
He continued flipping through the pages.
The book compiled several melodies.
Three fragmented ones: the Insect-Repelling Melody, the Wolf-Luring Melody, and the Beast-Banishing Melody.
The scores were completely fragmented. The book stated clearly that even the recorder did not know what the full pieces looked like, leaving behind only fragments and general melodic directions, barely enough to discern an outline.
Lu Yuan roughly scanned the three fragmented scores. The fingerings were intermittent, and the tones fluctuated high and low; it was indeed impossible to piece together a complete composition.
The only relatively complete one was the Plant-Companion Melody.
Its effect was to communicate with plants, and it could even make them grow faster, which was useful during cultivation.
Lu Yuan's gaze paused on this page.
Communicating with plants.
He knew how to refine medicine, and his Medicinal Herbology had just risen to forty. Oakwood City was also filled with medicinal herbs everywhere. If the Plant-Companion Melody could truly allow him to deal with plants, it might provide an auxiliary path on his journey of medicine refining.
He continued reading.
The book then detailed the difficulties of the Plant-Companion Melody.
Unlike the melodies for insects and beasts, when playing the Insect-Repelling Melody or the Wolf-Luring Melody, one could at least observe the other party's posture, expression, and movements. One could vaguely read whether it was afraid, angry, or calm, and adjust their tune based on the feedback to better improve themselves.
But plants were different.
Plants had no expressions and no movements. You could not perceive their current state at all. Whether the tune was played too high, too low, too fast, or too slow, you wouldn't even know.
Therefore, the Plant-Companion Melody was an extremely difficult piece.
Lu Yuan closed the book, leaning back in his chair as he pondered.
Difficult as it was, with a complete score in hand and plants readily available, it would be unreasonable not to give it a try.
He drew the Sandworm Bone Flute from his waist.
The bone flute was greyish-white all over, a gift from the current Mayor of the town. This item had been passed down for an unknown number of generations, its body rubbed to a faint sheen by fingers over the years.
The Plant-Companion Melody in the book originally used a different wind instrument, distinct from the bone flute, but their essence was the same—both relied on breath and fingering to control frequency.
Relying on his own understanding of music theory, Lu Yuan ran the fingerings of the Plant-Companion Melody through his mind. Mapping them onto the bone flute, he could roughly play it.
He glanced at the grey-white text once more.
【Ancient Music Theory: 5.9/50】
He had only just entered the gateway. Back in Sandworm Town, Karl had taught him some basics, but as his level went up slightly, his progress grew slower and slower. Playing for a good while would only increase it by 0.01. Eventually, he simply couldn't be bothered to play, leaving it sitting there untouched.
Now that he had a new melody, perhaps he could try again.
Lu Yuan brought the bone flute to his lips, following the fingerings of the Plant-Companion Melody in the book, and slowly blew a note.
The sound was extremely soft.
It was completely different from the melodies he usually played. The phrasing of the Plant-Companion Melody was low and gentle, like a breath slowly escaping from the chest, without fluctuations or sharp tones, so soft that the melody was barely discernible.
He smoothed it out section by section according to the fingerings. After playing three or four measures, the coordination between his fingers and breath was decent, without any major errors.
Once he got the hang of it, he turned his gaze toward the windowsill.
The two potted green plants were still there, their leaves thick and emerald-green, dusted with a fine layer of night dew that shimmered faintly under the lamplight.
Facing the two potted plants, Lu Yuan played the Plant-Companion Melody from the beginning.
The flute music drifted through the room, so low it almost merged into the night, making the tune impossible to distinguish without listening closely.
When he reached the second section, the plants on the windowsill moved.
The leaves themselves were trembling, completely unrelated to the wind.
Lu Yuan did not break his breath, continuing to play while keeping his eyes locked onto the two plants.
The trembling of the leaves became more and more obvious, high in frequency, fine, and rapid. The entire plant seemed stimulated by something; the veins tensed hard, and the leaf tips curled upward slightly. It did not look like they were enjoying it, but rather as if they were enraged.
Lu Yuan's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately stopped playing.
The moment the music cut off, the trembling of the two potted plants stopped abruptly. The leaves relaxed and returned to their original appearance, resting quietly on the windowsill as if nothing had happened.
Lu Yuan stared at the two plants for a good while.
He had likely played it wrong.
The difficulty of the Plant-Companion Melody was stated clearly in the book: plants had no expressions, so you had no idea if you were playing correctly. In the section he just played, the tone had probably drifted, sounding like a provocation to the plants.
He looked at the bone flute in his hand, then at the plants resting quietly as usual on the windowsill. Feeling somewhat speechless, he put the bone flute away.
He would stop here for now. Once he returned, he would find a safe place to slowly figure it out; there was no rush to master it tonight.
In the corner of his vision, the grey-white text quietly flickered.
【Ancient Music Theory: 5.9 → 6.0/50】
It had increased by 0.1 points.
It was slightly more than he had anticipated. The new melody indeed worked. Even if he played it wrong, the bone flute had at least produced a frequency he had never blown before. His body was adapting, and his experience was rising.
Lu Yuan tucked the bone flute back into his waist, put out the lamp, and lay down on the bed.
The night outside the window was deep. A few insect chirps drifted from afar, but otherwise, the night in Oakwood City was dead silent.
He closed his eyes, his thoughts turning over in his mind, but they were not about Ancient Music Theory.
Bronze City.
The communication crystal was still dead silent. Since the evening he arrived in Oakwood City, there had not been a single response.
He would leave tomorrow.
No matter what the situation was over there, he had to go back.
On that same night, things were burning beneath Bronze City.
Old Council Square, the main sinkhole.
The area around the sinkhole had been thoroughly cleared. The originally shattered stone slabs and piled rubble had all been cleared away, revealing a dark, gaping hole beneath. Its edges had been temporarily reinforced with a ring of silver rivets, barely keeping it from expanding further.
Looking down into the gap, there was a bottomless darkness, with a foul, rancid stench surging up from below, so thick one could practically taste it.
The area around the sinkhole was packed with people.
The Nightwatchers, the Holy Armored Army, and the Imperial Iron Guard—the forces of the three factions formed a dense, dark crowd, the light from torches and sandworm oil lamps illuminating the surroundings brightly. Several alchemical cannons had already been disassembled, their components secured to stretchers and carried by soldiers of the Holy Armored Army, waiting to be transported down.
Mithril was piled in six whole wooden crates, their lids left open, the silvery-white luster shimmering under the firelight.
The furnace sprayers of the Imperial Iron Guard were set up at the very front, their thick barrels glowing with dark red heat-conduction patterns, the copper storage tanks connected to their rears filled with furnace power fuel, their nozzles aimed downward, pointing directly into the dark hole.
Four people stood at the very front.
The Great Ascendant was in the center, his mechanical body reflecting a cold, hard silver light under the firelight, his mechanical eyeballs slowly rotating to scan every inch of the sinkhole's edge. His right fist was clenched, the clicking of gears between his knuckles extremely soft and rapid.
Lake stood to his left, his hood pulled very low, concealing most of his face and only revealing a section of his pale jaw.
The aura on him was suppressed heavily, but upon closer inspection, one could see something slowly writhing beneath his coat—dark red, slithering along his skin strip by strip.
Those were the Swarming Worms. Since the frequency of their appearances had increased, the branch was also well aware that such an eerie transcendent lay hidden among them.
The attendant stood on the right. He wore deep-colored robes, his expression serene, his hands hanging by his sides, his fingertips faintly glowing with purple light.
To show his sincerity, the Count had sent his attendant over directly. The Blue Knight was currently with the Count, monitoring a new sinkhole in the inner city, so the attendant was able to come out on his own for a while.
Standing at the very back was a person half a head shorter than the other three. His face was hidden in the shadow of his hood, making his features indistinguishable. His body was perfectly still, but the transcendent fluctuations on him were suppressed extremely deep, like an undercurrent resting at the bottom of the water.
Four Rank 4s.
Agnes stood two paces behind the four of them, her greyish-white nun robes swaying gently in the night breeze, her hands crossed over her chest, her lips moving slightly as if she were silently reciting something.
Rate on N.U.
