328 I am Ye Qingxuan…

If Colt had to name someone he did not want to see at Auschwitz, this guy would definitely be in the top few spots. In fact, he had passed Gavin, who used to be number one. Musicians who only emphasized the destructiveness of music scores and specialized in wide-range destruction were too powerful.

"Oh, Colt?" Recognizing him, Sam's eyes brightened. "Stop talking. Wanna fight?"

Colt scoffed and tried to ignore him. However, he stopped the other musicians. "He's the only inheritor of the Vacuum, a battle musician who specializes in large-scale destruction music scores. If he tries, maybe no one will be able to win but he'll make at least half of Auschwitz into the grave with him. In addition…" Colt did not finish his words. He just whistled and exchanged a meaningful glance. In addition, his teacher is watching from the sky! Aren't you scared of being discriminated against during the trial?

Soon after Sam passed, someone else stumbled in under the rainy night. The young man wore shabby clothing and his body was covered in bruises. He looked like a bedraggled beggar. Rain and mud had poured into his shoes during this journey and he panted for breath. It was hard to imagine what he had experienced to survive the fierce competition on the way here.

"Is he lucky?" One of the Scepter judges in the sky glanced over and said coolly, "It's useless to come here. He can't get through the gate."

Amongst them, an elder with an illusory body furrowed his brows but said nothing. When the youth approached and faint light illuminated his bruised face, the elder was stunned. "Simon?"

"Simon?" Rebecca, another representative of the School of Illusion, recognized this pathetic youth. However, she never thought he would end up in this state. She could barely see the strong opponent in him anymore.

"What Simon?" the young man spat. "Haven't you been looking for me for a long time? I'll never change my name, no matter what…Yes, I'm Ye Qingxuan! Come at me!"

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack… Those were the sounds of jaws literally dropping and hitting the ground.

Everyone gaped at this proud guy in bewilderment. Did this guy think he could pretend to be an Easterner with that crappy hair dye? The Angloian grandmaster was watching from the sky! Did he think this was okay?

"Ye Qingxuan?" In the sky, Mr. Hu was shocked too. He glanced at the grandmaster beside him. "He looks so different. What happened? A bad breakup?"

The mysterious man who had appeared in Maxwell's office coughed violently with a troubled expression. After a long while, he tried to suppress his laughter and looked over. "Sorry, I don't know him…"

On the ground, 'Ye Qingxuan' was staring down the people before the gate. "You!" he declared seriously. "Do you know Old Phil?"

Old Phil? The musicians stared at each other. No one knew who Old Phil was and their eyes grew serious. Was there a powerful and mysterious musician hidden in Auschwitz?

After long hesitation, someone asked timidly, "Who's Old Phil?"

"Heh, scared now?" A sneer cut across 'Ye Qingxuan's face. He widened his eyes and declared, "Old Phil is my dad! Aren't you scared! If you're scared then scram! Otherwise, my dad will squash you all…"

Silence. Dead silence.

In the crowd, Rebecca stepped back. Lowering her head, she felt humiliated. Why did she view this psycho as a strong opponent?

In the sky, the illusory elder could stand it no longer. His deep voice rang out, "Simon, enough! Stop fooling around!"

'Ye Qingxuan' looked up. Seeing the elder, his eyes grew confused. His expression changed dramatically as if thinking of something. After a long while, it dawned on him.

"You're Old Phil!" He opened his arms in ecstasy. "Dad! I finally found—"

Boom! A formless hand appeared in the rain and grasped Simon. It tightened and disappeared with a pop. Simon was gone too. All that remained was the shuddering elder who roared, "You disgrace!"

The musicians on the ground were silent for a long time. They had no clue what had just happened.

"Does Simon have some hereditary disease?" someone asked.

"If I've guessed correctly," Mind musician Arianna said dryly, "he was probably brainwashed."

"By whom? One of you Mind people?"

"Stop joking." Arianna glared at the speaker. "You think brainwashing is as easy as wiping words off a piece of paper? You have to block the memories, reset the personality, correct the self-recognition…you need at least one hundred hints. This involves inheritance. It's impossible if you don't have a teacher who is also an expert and ultra-precise operation. Especially with a musician like Simon, you can easily ruin everything with the slightest moment of inattentiveness. It's so much easier to just kill him!"

"What if you do it? Is it hard for you too?" It was obvious the asker did not have good intentions.

Arianna scoffed. Her smile was indescribably enchanting and demonic. "What do you think?"

The other's heart shook and he quickly looked away in regret. Why did he mess with the psychos from the School of Mind?

Arianna smiled as if nothing had happened but it was clear she would remember that man and deal with him later.

"Enough, stop fooling around," Colt uttered, snuffing the start of an internal war. "There are ten more minutes until the deadline. If you have any conflicts, wait until dawn to fight." He looked away and calmed himself down. He focused on the surrounding marks he had set and felt for aether waves. However, he heard someone else's voice in the silence.

"Hey, Colt, someone else is coming."

Stunned, he looked up and saw fire. In the distance, at the end of the road, the rain was burning like fire. A youth was walking forward on flames. He strode over, ignoring the group in the distance. As if he was in his own world, he hummed an unclear and faraway song. Raindrops fell onto him and rose like flames. When he stepped onto the ground, mud splashed like water.

It was pure aetheric change. The nature changed without any sign. It transformed into wind, condensed into rain, converged into fire, and turned into dirt. It was like an illusion.

Colt furrowed his brows in discontent and looked back. "There's been enough weird things," he growled. "Rebecca, stop joking and get rid of the fulcrum."

Rebecca froze under everyone's scrutiny. Suddenly understanding, cold sweat appeared on her forehead. "I-it's not me." She waved in panic. "That's not my fulcrum."

Everyone's eyes grew serious in the dead silence. A song traveled to their ears.

The youth's hoarse song resounded in the rain and spread in all directions. It seemed to be some diddly but was so unclear. It was indescribably pleasant and distant as if it came from the mountains. The song hung in the air. And under it, everything began to change. The youth came forward with fire in the darkness.

-

All was silent in the air.

"It's an Eastern language." Someone looked to Mr. Hu. "Is this your student from the Imperial College? I've never heard of this music score…"

"No, it's just a folk song. It's not a music score and it doesn't have any effects." Mr. Hu chuckled wryly. "And we don't have any Indians. If I'm not wrong, this is probably the other youth I've seen."

"Who?" The grandmasters exchanged glances. None of their schools had a young man like him. "Is he a student from a secretive school or fraternity?"

"He's finally here?" the mysterious man blowing his nose murmured from the back as he smiled. "You made me wait for so long, kid."

-

In the silence, only the song sounded. Everyone gazed at the young man singing and advancing with fire. They watched as he walked in the mud without any obstacles. The footprints he left behind burned in the rain.

Rain drenched his body and he looked pathetic but he did not seem to care. In fact, he smiled happily. Faced with so many menacing musicians, he was still relaxed as if this was a day trip. Rain fell on all his swords and knives, rolling down the hilts and blades. The average swords seemed mysterious now too.

The atmosphere grew heavy, pressing down on everyone's hearts and making it hard to breathe.

"Who is he?" Someone in the crowd furrowed his brows. "A sword seller?"

In the flowing flames and burning rain, the youth took off his heavy turban and revealed his trademark white hair. The whiteness shone in the fire, piercing their eyes.

"I am Ye Qingxuan…" The youth gazed at their faces and smiled warmly. "I'm here to sell swords."