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墨書 Inktalez
"Wherever you look, it's the same. The most important thing is that you must memorize the melody of Music in each chapter. Only when all the movements come together can you hear the complete music of The Sorrow of the Demon. Only by remembering this complete Music can you hope to find all the Sheet Music on the next full moon. Only then will you regain your life."
"That night, I followed you into that dark forest, arriving at that meadow, hearing the beautiful music emanating from the ground. Was that the Second Movement of Demonic Music?"
"Yes. That night I guided you into the forest to help you remember the melody and rhythm of the Second Movement."
"I remember the Second Movement of Demonic Music, but I've never heard the third movement. How can I search for the sheet music of the third movement?"
The witch fell silent, and once again, the room was quiet.
"I have one more question," Qiluo Ling continued to ask.
"What question?"
"I'm curious, since the demon has decreed that I will die soon, why did he send you to help me? If he wants to stab me with a dagger, why does he also dress me in heavy armor? Isn't that contradictory? So, does he want me to live or die?"
The wind blew in through the open window, rustling the thin curtains.
"I don't quite understand his intentions either; perhaps only he has the answer," the witch replied calmly after a long pause.
For a long time afterward, neither spoke; silence was an empty existence.
"As for your desire to listen to the third movement of Demonic Music, there will be a carriage at the entrance of the manor. It will take you to the castle to listen to the third movement of Demonic Music," the witch broke the silence and said again.
"Oh."
"However, once you enter the castle, you must remember one thing: you cannot speak aloud."
"Why?"
"Because that castle is not an ordinary castle; it doesn't exist in the material world. It is an illusion, a castle built by your thoughts. Therefore, while in the castle, you cannot make any sounds; all your thoughts and actions must rely on your mind."
"I'm not quite clear on what you mean. Can you give an example?"
"For example, if you want to push open a door, it is not your physical strength that matters, but the will you have in your heart. Even if it is a massive stone door, as long as your will is strong enough, you can easily push it open."
"I understand. But what will happen if I make a sound?"
"That fortress of thought will immediately collapse," the witch said finally.
Qiluo Ling seemed to comprehend and nodded.
When Qiluo Ling looked up again, she found that the witch had vanished into the darkness. She understood that the witch had completed her mission and left satisfied.
After the witch departed, Qiluo Ling felt her previously immobilized body was freed from its restraints, and her limbs could move freely again.
Qiluo Ling did not turn on the lights; instead, she dressed in the dark, opened the door, and stepped outside. She passed through the dark Lawn and the quiet artificial river, gently pushing open the ornate gate of the estate and walking out.
Qiluo Ling paused outside the estate's gate.
She looked around; dense trees surrounded her, and a solitary old moon hung high in the sky, illuminating the vast world. The endless night stretched out before her. She stood on a square patch of ground at the entrance, gazing blankly into the distance. In such a backdrop, a person seemed almost insignificant.
Where was the carriage?
Just then, Qiluo Ling suddenly heard faint hoofbeats coming from afar. The sound grew closer, seemingly approaching from deep within the forest. Soon, the hoofbeats became louder until they emerged from the darkness, running toward her under the dim moonlight.
Qiluo Ling saw a carriage.
The carriage approached with a steady rhythm, its cadence lonely and monotonous. The horses pulling it were two tall white steeds as pure as snow, their forms elegant and strong, their hooves clattering against the ground and kicking up clouds of dust.
The carriage was black with black wheels and black reins but had no driver.
The black carriage stopped in front of Qiluo Ling, and the two tall horses tossed their heads, exhaling puffs of white vapor from their nostrils.
At that moment, the door of the carriage opened automatically. By the light of the moon, Qiluo Ling saw that inside was also pitch black. There was no one in the carriage, but a deep blue light flickered within the darkness.
Qiluo Ling hesitated, suddenly recalling the fairy tales she had read as a child, where there was always a carriage in the forest, bringing magical gifts and valiant heroes. Yet the carriage before her seemed to be meant solely for her.
Qiluo Ling stood still, wondering where this carriage would take her.
“Please, beautiful and respected lady, step aboard!” A dreamy and faint voice suddenly came from beside her.
Qiluo Ling was startled; there was clearly no one inside the carriage. Where did the voice come from? It didn’t seem to emanate from the carriage but rather felt like it was coming from deep within her heart.
The two White Steeds also gazed at her with their deep blue-black eyes, seemingly eager for her to enter the carriage.
Am I dreaming? Is this all just a dream?
Qiluo Ling felt utterly confused but soon realized that even if this were a dream, she had to follow its narrative. So she must board the carriage. There was no reason, except for the music.
Qiluo Ling immediately stepped into the carriage.
The door of the carriage slowly closed. In fact, the interior was not as dark and suffocating as it appeared from outside. Once the door shut, she sensed a faint, refreshing fragrance within, and the ethereal blue ambiance brought her an inexplicable sense of joy.
Soon, the black carriage began to move. The sound of hooves transitioned from slow to fast, advancing at an ancient steady pace. The rhythmic clopping of hooves and the creaking of the axle filled the air. The carriage started to sway gently, as if traversing through a dark time tunnel.
After passing through a long stretch of dark tunnel, the carriage finally came to a stop.
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