The rain stopped in the hall, leaving only the glass sky still dripping and leaking. There was no one on the stage, and the band in the audience fell into silence, like wax statues forgotten in an abandoned venue.
There was a storm in the minds of several kings. After seeing the performance of Eternal Night Ark, they once again realized something that was easily overlooked by themselves:
Real power is not just the accumulation of power, but also the exquisite use of it.
Mr. Eternal Night Ark, this new member of the King's Club, has just used the least spiritual power and the smallest scale to subdue and dispel the chronic supernatural disease that has been lingering in New Testament City for many years.
Even if his peers want to maintain their proud and critical image, they can only remain silent at this moment.
A drop of pure rainwater suspended in the air in front of Sean, like a still tear. Tom's legacy is reflected in the hazy mist of New Testament City.
Sean stepped forward and took the drop of rainwater into his palm.
It was "a rain of the New Testament," a rain that could be summoned in the New Testament city when needed.
In that rain, you can invite others to take a walk, or you can kick up the rain on the street alone - it will really be rain just for you.
Tom's legacy does not contain much spiritual power, but Sean finds it particularly romantic. In the museum hidden deep in his soul, there is another crystal clear collection.
The rain outside the window became lighter, and the wet city gradually became clearer. It seems that the dark clouds are also tired and ready to take a rest.
"The country thief who will soon ascend the throne" took two steps, raised his head to look at the glass sky, and said in a teasing tone: "It seems that I have to ask someone to repair it."
The kings finally made their own moves. "Red Dragon" nodded slightly towards Sean to show his approval, and Catherine also glanced at the "newcomer".
The look in her eyes made Sean smile. On the one hand, he enjoyed the feeling that no one present knew the secret between them. On the other hand, it was because he understood the look in her eyes.
Catherine, who turned around, seemed to have said with her eyes: Well, you really know how to show off.
Part of it is intentional ridicule, and part of it is actually recognition.
The once proud and stern mentor actually gave her praise. Sean knows how rare this is.
Sean sat back at the long table with a soda. When he sat down, he noticed that the atmosphere had changed slightly.
He felt completely accepted by the people around the table, and more than that, the members even respected him a little more.
Sariel, who had broken wings, no longer looked at himself deliberately.
Sean sat at the table and continued to listen to the conversation between the King classes...
·
In the evening, Sean returned home and chatted with Aaliyah about the day's experiences.
After enjoying a hot bath, instead of sitting on the bed and reading as usual, I turned off the lamp and lay down.
In the darkness, the playing cards hidden in the inner pocket of his pajamas trembled slightly.
It was Catherine: "Are you asleep?"
Sean opened his eyes: "Not yet. What's wrong?"
"I want to know, do you really not care about the president's affairs, or do you not want to express your position on that occasion?"
Sean blinked. Although I have her in my heart, my relationship with Phillips is so close, and my conflict with Nietzsche is so profound...
Even for Catherine, he couldn't tell the truth directly at the moment.
"My queen—I really don't care."
There was a noticeable pause on the other side, and she replied: "Okay."
Sean wanted to ask her what she thought, but then he thought about his own concealment and felt that it was unnecessary.
In fact, when it comes to who she supports as the next president, Cathy has no problem supporting anyone. After all, the Kings value maximizing their own interests in the president election, and the relationship between him and Nietzsche is considered a personal grudge.
The two said good night to each other, and Sean continued to sink back into the darkness.
The sound of Aaliyah gently turning the pages of a book came from next door. The rustling sound was like the autumn wind blowing dead leaves on the concrete floor.
The captain stretched out, and his flesh pads lightly stepped on the floor, making a greasy scraping sound, like a baby's accidentally opening lips...
Normally, Sean would fall asleep quickly listening to these small, calming sounds.
However, his eyes flashed past Nietzsche standing high in the dark forest, past Catherine wearing a golden mask looking at him in the rain-dropped hall, past Alicia burning with blue fire...
The mind is not stable.
"Maybe you need to find someone to talk about this." Sean, who was lying on the bed, opened his eyes again.
Since he couldn't sleep for a while, he came to the Shengen space, the vast museum-like hall.
Step by step, with gentle footsteps, Sean walked to the side of a collection table. What is suspended on that table is his own King-level mask, "Eternal Night Ark".
He sat down next to the collection table, a stone bench appeared in front of him, and his eyes stared at the bright ark in the wind and rain.
Floating and sinking, fighting against the wind and waves. It is so small in the vast ocean, but so determined.
As if he heard the sound of wind and waves, Sean's eyelids gradually became heavy, and in this indescribable peace, he fell into sleep.
·
In New Testament City in spring, the white oak trees in the black iron fence also sprouted green leaves. The breeze blows, the green leaves sway, and the sunlight passes through the ever-changing gaps, just like shining through the water, gold and shadows dance together, mottled and drifting.
Wearing the Eternal Night Ark mask, Sean came alone to the already familiar house with red brick walls.
Professor Carl Jung's Home in the New Testament.
He couldn't just sit back and watch Alicia's death scene. He needed to find an authority in the dream field and listen to his opinion.
Pulling the knocker, it was Mr. Jung's maid who opened the door. When this woman in her fifties saw the high-level explorer standing outside the door, she was not surprised or panicked at all. She calmly invited him into her home as if she was just an ordinary person.
Sean didn't pay attention to this detail before, but when he saw it today, he suddenly realized that the people who walked into Mr. Jung's house were all capable people and strangers...
The maid knocked on the door of the study room on the first floor. Sean walked in and saw the familiar short white hair. Mr. Jung was wearing a white shirt and a black vest. He was sitting at his desk, immersed in writing something in the sunshine. He didn't even seem to notice that a guest had come in.
Sean did not disturb him. He sat aside and meditated quietly, sorting out the flow of his soul and quietly watching his changing moods - this was a brand new feeling gained after the Heart Palace Wheel was liberated. Most of the time, his Consciousness can already stand above the emotions, as if overlooking an ever-changing river.
Nowadays, people are accustomed to using pens or typewriters, but Mr. Jung still uses quill pens to write. His strokes were slow and slow, and from time to time he would put the quill into the ink bottle next to him and gently wipe off the excess ink on the edge of the bottle. The pen tip and the glass edge collide with each other to make a delicate and pleasant sound.
After a while, perhaps the great psychologist finished writing the uninterrupted paragraph. He gently put down his quill and turned his head with a smile: "Mr. Shimmering Sea - I think I should call you Yongye now. Ark - congratulations on your promotion."
Sean sat up straight and returned the favor.
The several interactions they had had left a deep impression on each other. Although the two rarely met, they seemed to have similar interests.
Mr. Jung had a gentle smile in his eyes: "I'm sorry for not greeting you right away. I'm writing a... magical book. The profound culture discussed in this book comes from the mysterious East."
As he spoke, Mr. Jung picked up an ancient-looking book: "This book is called "Taiyi Jinhua Zonglun", which is the mysterious wisdom of the ancient Eastern countries. My students were responsible for the translation, and I read in it There are many concepts and metaphors that coincide with modern psychology!
"I'm so excited that I'm trying to write down the wonders I see in it..."
"This book will be called "The Secret of the Golden Flower"."
Mr. Jung had a mysterious smile on his face.
