Chapter 78: Act with Me Until the Very End!
Ragunna's Carnevale was reaching its climax.
Ciaccona's voice danced like leaping flames, igniting the blood of every listener, her vibrating strings synchronizing with the heartbeat of tens of thousands.
The air was thick with the scents of food, alcohol, and ecstasy, while the brilliant lights outshone the Milky Way. This was a cathartic breath after twenty years of silence.
Until the stars and moon in the sky were swallowed by a velvet cloth soaked in blood.
Chaos erupted immediately after.
"Hey! What's happening?!"
"The sky! What's wrong with the sky?!"
Following the celestial anomaly came the corruption of the Echoes.
"Groan—!"
"Roar—!"
Almost simultaneously with the theater's descent, the Echoes stationed throughout Ragunna for ceremonial performances and order maintenance underwent a transformation. Their gentle gazes turned crimson, their stable Resonance Power fields turning violent and aggressive, indiscriminately assaulting everything around them.
"The Echoes have gone berserk!"
"Get away!"
Soon, panic began spreading through the crowd like plague.
Yet not everyone was caught off guard.
Almost the moment the Echoes lost control, certain individuals sprang into action.
"Please step back, allow the Fisalia Family to handle this."
Cantarella Fisalia emerged gracefully from the crowd, her face adorned with its usual composed smile.
With a light tap of her parasol tip against the ground, a massive azure halo resembling a jellyfish's canopy expanded outward from her. Where it passed, the rampaging Echoes noticeably slowed, as if trapped in invisible glue.
Members of the Fisalia Family immediately cut through the chaotic crowds, assisting their matriarch in subduing the corrupted Echoes.
Thud!
Meanwhile, a massive Echo forcibly docked at Ragunna's pier, from which a group of bizarrely dressed individuals leaped from the deck led by a young man.
"Come, the approaching storm awaits!"
Brant's voice echoed through the district. The Fool's Troupe members—those exiled individuals filled with resentment toward the Order—charged into the streets like actors who had long rehearsed their roles.
"Hey!"
"Pero!"
Roccia moved ahead of the troupe members, constantly tossing various wonderful little props to help subdue the rampaging Echoes while Pero, hidden within the suitcase, would burst forth to repel any Echoes attempting to approach Roccia.
"Do not panic! Follow guidance! The Order is here!"
Phoebe's clear voice carried undeniable firmness as she led priests against the human tide toward the most dangerous areas.
The intervention of these three forces quickly stabilized order in key areas, but the seeds of panic had been sown, with chaotic aftershocks still rippling through the plaza.
Though contained, the number of uncontrolled corpses remained considerable, their crimson gazes flickering amidst the night and chaotic lights, threatening scattered individuals who hadn't evacuated in time.
Well, isn't it about time for someone to make a dramatic entrance?
Just as everyone was fleeing in panic, a figure was seen soaring over their heads—and when they noticed the winged strange humanoid following behind, some immediately recognized his identity.
"It's the evil spirit of that priest! The one from the auction!"
"Aeron! It's the exiled Aeron!!"
"The rumors... the rumors are true!"
It seemed the rumors spread by Ciaccona had indeed been remarkably effective, even overshadowing their fear of the Echoes. But Aeron had little time to concern himself with them now.
There was a far more important person waiting for him at the main stage.
Aeron's target was clear—he dove straight toward the most dazzling yet chaotic core of Carnevale, that massive main stage!
Bang!
A heavy impact echoed as wood splinters flew. Aeron's figure crashed heavily into the center of the stage, less than five paces from Ciaccona. The shockwave made her dress flutter violently.
As the dust settled slightly, there stood the dark red robe, the pure white mask, and behind him floated Arsène with his ferocious grin. An icy, inhuman aura washed over them.
"Ah..." Ciaccona let out a short gasp, instinctively clutching her lute tighter as she half-stepped back, her face a mixture of panic and a fleeting, complicated emotion.
Aeron didn't hesitate in the slightest. His gaze behind the mask locked onto her, and his figure closed in like a ghost!
Ciaccona felt a sharp pain as if her wrist had been clamped in iron pliers, the lute in her arms falling to the ground with a clatter. Simultaneously, an irresistible force pulled at her waist, violently yanking her off her feet and slamming her into a cold embrace that carried the scents of gunpowder and night wind.
The next moment, Aeron's voice immediately sounded beside Ciaccona.
"Sorry, but play along with me for a bit, partner."
"...What are you doing?!"
Under the guise of flailing her right hand in apparent panic, using the twist of her body and the cover of her sleeves, Ciaccona secretly pinched the inside of Aeron's arm where it tightly gripped her waist.
"That hurts, you know."
"Consider it payback!"
All this happened in the blink of an eye. To outsiders, it merely appeared as though the evil spirit had instantly subdued and completely controlled the delicate poet with absolute dominance.
"Look carefully, you fools of Ragunna, lost in your sweet dreams!"
A hoarse, distorted voice, amplified through the mask, drowned out the clamor of the crowd before them. Holding Ciaccona hostage, Aeron took two steps forward to the very edge of the stage under the spotlight, fully exposing himself and his "hostage" to countless terrified or furious gazes.
His free right hand pointed toward the blood-red sky, the chaotic square, and the various factions still battling sporadic Echoes, his voice dripping with sarcasm and undisguised malice:
"Look at this 'celebration' you cheer for! Look at this land soaked in lies! The Order tells you all is well, tells you the sacrifices are worth it, tells you forgetting is a blessing! And you, like livestock in a pen, eat the feed they throw you and even make music and sing for it!"
His finger abruptly turned to the "trembling" Ciaccona in his arms, then swept over the crowd below: "Look at this pitiful poet! How much truth does she know? And how much would she dare to speak? Just like all of you, living in fabricated stories, turning a blind eye to the real festering wounds!"
He raised his voice, each word like a venom-tipped ice spike, "And now, a malevolent spirit who refuses to stay silent shall unveil the truth for you—!"
Whoosh—
Before Aeron could finish speaking, an ice crystal grazed past his ear and embedded itself into the stage behind him.
"Aeron, what are you trying to do?"
Carlotta's voice rang out as she aimed her gun at him, her eyes filled with confusion and bewilderment.
"You've crossed the line."
Rover merely uttered these words, already poised for battle.
As for Little Carte... if possible, one might wish she'd tone down the "what are you up to now" look in her eyes.
Carlotta, Rover, and Cartethyia took the stage as if following a prearranged script.
Aeron looked at the three surrounding him without saying a word.
Now that the actors had gathered, it was time for the performance to formally begin.
[Focus Fire, activate.]
Hum!
An invisible yet overwhelmingly powerful ripple instantly spread out from him as the epicenter.
Throughout Ragunna, dozens of Echoes—those attempting to attack the evacuation teams or those who had just broken free with intensified crimson glows in their eyes—all ceased their movements simultaneously.
Then, under the disbelieving gazes of everyone present, these Echoes abruptly turned and let out piercing shrieks. They surged from all corners of Ragunna, charging toward Aeron on the main stage.
"He... he's controlling the Echoes?!"
"No... he's attracting them! He's drawing the most dangerous ones toward himself?!"
"Malevolent spirit... he truly is a malevolent spirit!"
The crowd erupted into even greater panic. Aeron, as if commanding disaster itself, plunged all of Ragunna into chaos.
Watching the rampaging Echoes continuously swarming toward them, Carlotta's heart swelled with doubt and confusion.
This man had clearly arranged everything meticulously—why would he personally ruin it all now?
Meanwhile, Rover slowly drew her blade from its sheath, her eyes fixed on Aeron as she asked,
"...Is this your script?"
Hearing Rover's words, Aeron smiled faintly.
"Then... accompany me until the final act."
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