Divine Flame Crystal

Chapter 648: Destroying the Ritual Formation

At dusk, the Knights of the Holy Inquisition marched out for the first time. The contingent was small, only thirty-six men. The front sixteen held the wheel; the rest carried lanterns and scales. The flag was still the less glittering one, but it held steady in the wind. The wind lifted the golden thread, then dropped it.

"Where to?" Ilio asked.

"To the east, at Low Tide Ferry," Cyrus answered. "There the Starfall people put out their lights and move the white stones. They want us to be deaf to their own voices."

"What about us?"

"Replace the lamp, carve deeper into the white stone." Cyrus glanced at him, "and—pay all the vows that need to be fulfilled."

For Xingluo, the opponent's path as a singer is a new one, and he is also trying to find ways to disrupt the opponent's growth, so he naturally has to dismantle some of the opponent's arrangements one by one. This time the opponent is in the dark, and he is in the light, so he simply doesn't hide it and dismantles all the opponent's arrangements openly. Although he doesn't know the effect, it's always right to dismantle them.

When we reached the town entrance, we saw a line of small characters next to the gray monument that said, "Every time one person dies, the others stand a little longer." This was carved by a town resident who was not very literate:

"There is a light for walking at night."

Ilio read the words, the bone lamp on his chest flickering. He suddenly understood: the Holy Inquisition didn't burn fire outwards; it trapped it within the bones, allowing it to shine where it was needed.

He lifted the wheel for the first time and uttered in a low voice—and also in a hard voice—a verdict pertaining to the journey:

"I am willing to keep."

The wind passed through his fingers and became a little softer.

The small white stones on the road recorded his footsteps.

Ahead, the sound of the ebb and flow of water seemed to be answering from afar: "I am willing to stay and stay..."

The water at low tide was salty and astringent, the sound of the tide a natural four-beat rhythm: one, two, three, four—ebb. The pier's pilings had been blunted, the lampposts lying sideways in the weeds, the white stones tilted by hammers, like old men with twisted backs. Even more harsh, every ten feet, a new wooden sign from the Starfall Alliance was placed: "No Lights Allowed." The words were carved with an iron hook, the hooks deliberately left rough. When the wind blew, the words seemed to laugh, disrupting both the sign and the song.

The sky had just turned leaden when the Inquisition arrived. The procession was small, and the lanterns led the way: four monks, each carrying a lantern, walked two by two, their shades covered with black cloth, from the corners of which dangled thin chains made of white ash. Cyrus walked, Valerian watched the wind, and Mara watched the eyes. Ilio resisted the urge to speak: the light in his chest was new, and his voice hardened when he was moved—hard voices were not suitable for small talk.

"The judge is at Duxin's side," said Valerian.

"The enemy has turned off the lights, moved the rocks, and obstructed our path," Cyrus said, "so we will cut back all the way we came."

They first built the well of judgment: not a deep one, but a circle of bricks laid in the center of the ford, with fine white stones embedded in the cracks. A white lime scale hung from the crossbar, its star hanging quietly. Mara placed the empty chalice on the well's edge, its walls reflecting the drifting clouds and the tide.

"First, ask for your name."

"Ask again."

"Ask again."

Valerian nailed the three words into the wind of Du Xin, and the wind stopped running around.

This is somewhat similar to setting up a magic circle, but more like a ritual. It is not as dark and evil as the ritual of the abyss. Instead, it has a sense of sacredness, as if communicating with the God of Light. But even if the other party does not respond, power will be formed, as if mobilizing power in the space that does not belong to the major elements, a kind of ritual power, similar to a curse, but does not require the participation of the element of light.

The first to step forward was the old ferryman, his skin like wood rubbed with salt by the wind and then dried in the sun. Upon seeing the Holy Tribunal, he knelt and kowtowed, his words breaking into three parts: "I... I moved three white stones... They forced me to do it. I'm afraid of death."

"name?"

"Bunqi."

"willing?**"

"I wish I could move the stone back, and I also wish I could recognize the crossing line as four beats, not one more or one less."

"crime?"

"I'm afraid of death... I'm lazy... I even cursed the lamp, saying it was a burden."

The white ash scale tilted a fraction, then straightened. Valerian nodded. "Make up for the vow—protect the three lamps for ten days. If you can't protect them, the scale will tilt again; if you can protect them, the scale will straighten."

Wen Qi stood up, trembling, as if he had found a way out. Mara pressed a small lamp into his hand, and Ilio pushed the wick inward. "The lamp isn't heavy, and protecting it isn't tiring." Wen Qi grinned, revealing two still-steady teeth. "I understand. The lamp is my path forward."

The next person to come forward was a salt vendor, his basket of salt bricks damp. "Name?—Ali. Willingness?—I'm willing to sell salt by the weight, not shortchange you. Crime?—I secretly turned off a light for someone else to save oil." The white ash scale sank, the star hanging on the guilty side, and it remained motionless for a long moment. Ali's face paled, his hands trembling: "I'll change, I'll add the oil, I..."

"A vow to protect two ferrymen across the crest of the tide," Valerian said calmly. "If you can't, I'll burn you later."

Ali kowtowed heavily as if he had been sentenced to probation, and was so scared that tears came out.

Three, five, seven... the ferrymen stepped forward one by one, the rhythm of "name-wish-sin" transforming panic into actionable actions. Young and strong men who had been persecuted by the scout knights who had attacked the Light Alliance were also brought in for questioning—not to be killed immediately, but to make a vow first, giving them a chance to atone. A white ash scale weighed the weight of each heart, the scales like a small, nodding lamp: a wish lit, a sin committed, and the lamp stood.

After asking people, it’s time to ask for directions.

"The white stone is tilted, so the carving is not deep enough." Hubert took out the hammer, "Let's carve deeper."

"The lamp stand is uprooted, but the stake is still there," Mara said. "Let's put the lamp back in."

"The road signs need to include water laws," Ilio couldn't help but interject. "Wind can cause chaos, but water is stable."

Valerian turned to look at him, his eyes like well water, cold but not repelling. "Tell me about your so-called water law."

"The wind is in the air, the well is in the ground, and the water is in between," Ilio gestured. "We'll place four submersible lights under the ferry, with four beats carved into the inner walls. The water will naturally create a rhythm. We'll also dig two wells in the shallows, using white stone as the well rings and reed cores inside to let the water keep the beat itself."

Carlon tapped his wooden leg. "Speak human language."

"That's it—put the lamp in the water and let the water sing for us." Ilio scratched his head and muttered, "I gave it a nickname: 'Water Returns to the Well'."

Celine glanced at him and said, "Watch your mouth when you're naming things. Don't call it off-road."

Valerian nodded. "It's possible. The wind can stir up the song, but it can't stir up the water."

As the submersible light sank, the water surface only trembled slightly. Wen Qi asked sharply, "Will it go out?"

"No." Ilio laughed, "Water will only hold the fire of faith tighter." Wen Qi slapped his thigh: "I knew the lamp was fine!"

The Starfall allies arrived faster than expected. They were a team armed with drums, their drumheads covered in animal membranes, their drummers riding toucans. They came with the wind, their sonic waves flattening the reeds into a sea of ​​green fish scales.

"They're coming." Cyrus lowered the flag slightly. "The outer ring guards the well, and the inner ring guards the sound of the water."

The first blast of the wind drum shook the lanterns on the ferry. The second blast made the pier roof creak. The third blast faltered the song on the shore—but the underwater beat was as steady as the shore itself.

"Reverse drum." Valerian raised his hand. "The core of the drum is the return of water to the well."

Mara led the group along the shore, beating stakes: a wooden stake every two feet, with reed ropes wrapped around the tops and soaked in water. The chorus then dropped the dark beats of the stitching song on the stakes. The stakes didn't make a sound, but the water did; the water didn't roar, but it responded.

When the fourth sound of the wind drum comes down, the echo eats itself first - the old rule of "Echo Well" becomes the new rule of "Water Return Well": let the water eat the chaos into its stomach first, and then spit it out in four beats.

Rantis stood on the other side, his brows raised. "They took the drum into the water."

"Seize the well," he ordered, and the crossbowmen fired in unison, hook darts with chains, aiming at the submerged lights.

Celine called out a quick "switch," and the gray-cloaked team slanted out from the mist, stepping back to the beat of the crossbow line just as it was about to tighten—half-step back, step forward, and then step forward again. After three steps, the crossbow chain was completely entangled in a broken pile. Reinhardt stabbed the drummer on the other side with his knife, causing the sound wave to deflect half an inch, and the second drummer's beat also slipped.

"Protect two people." He said in a low voice to the two young men behind him who had not yet been scarred, "Follow my shot - don't look up, just look at your toes."

The two teenagers' calves were trembling, but when they heard the advice "just look at your toes", they gradually calmed down: there were white stones in front of their toes, and water was seeping out of the cracks in the stones, and nature was helping to keep the rhythm.