Chapter 516: Myth’s Voice

“Once upon a time, the world was young and angry.

Once upon a time, the world and people wanted equality.

Once upon a time, a king descended from the heavens. Once upon a time, a hammer crashed through the entry.

They sang and they sang and they sang! O what fun it was. O how delightful it was. O how much we laughed and laughed. O how much we were given and gifted!

Once upon a time, the world was just so happy! Once upon a time, we just wanted to be angry! Once upon a time, the lightning was brought down and the king arose. And when the king arose, the gods ran. The gods ran and ran and raaaannnn~!”

Myth played along with his voice. His gentle, deep voice that seemed to bring forth wells of effort from what sounded like no effort. The final lengthy note hung in the air, lingering like the last breath of a dying star.

Silence followed, and then—the applause.

Xander’s guests clapped, some rising from their seats in admiration. The grand piano gleamed under the golden chandeliers and the man in the black opera mask—Myth—gave a slow, elegant bow.

Xander’s mansion and the music hall within—it was all for him. It was all designed to impress any that came. From Myth himself to the chandeliers to the piano. All was of a divine quality.

Xander’s smile couldn’t have been prouder.

Myth left without a word.

Past velvet curtains and golden sconces, Myth sat down and rested and waited. Two of Xander’s servants tended to his clothing, making sure he was immaculate. Once any tiny mistake was rectified, Myth rose and walked into the halls of the mansion, away from the guests. Servants bowed as he passed, his presence an enigma, a ghost of music that came and went as effortlessly as a passing breeze.

But he did not leave. Not really.

The moment he left the music hall, his Qi Sense spread like ink in water, unseen and unfelt. He listened. Vibrations.

’First, I was able to count the pages of books. Second, I was able to read the ink. Third, I flipped through the pages, eyes closed, and read them. Now…’

Through the wall, under the floors, his Qi Sense caught and slipped through everything. Every little gap was used. The air of the huge hall carried voices, the minuscule disturbances forming shapes, meaning, conversation.

“—I like him! A tall body with nice, big muscles underneath. Tell me, what are his rates?”

“He is not to be bought.”

“Mm, just for one night, Xander. I am sure we can come to a compromise.”

“He is a man of high intellect and speech. I cannot compromise on his behalf.”

“A shame.”

Originally, there were no tables or seats—until the Red Sorcerer was commanded by Xander to do so. It was a flex of power, a show of the casual wealth he held. The Red Sorcerer used his music to pour wine for Xander’s guest. There were ten of them, half of them faces from Ares’ Symposium and the other half fresh faces. The woman who asked to sleep with Myth was a close aide of Alcibiades.

“Enough with the desires. We sit here after the efforts of two decades. Twenty years.” The main guest was Lian Zhou. An engineer, or as Xander called him, a visionary. Paranoid bastard apparently. “That is how long it has been since Xander and I’s ambition.”

“You mean all of our ambitions.” Xander raised his glass, smiling, and the rest laughed. The owner of the mansion swirled his glass. “So, my eager engineer, you say it is done? No has-beens, no issues, no half-measures?”

Lian Zhou smiled. “It is done.”

The room stilled.

Minor, rich people applause.

“Yes.” Lian Zhou leaned forward, voice lowering, but Dasha heard every syllable as if they had spoken directly into his ear. “The blip is complete. Decades of work have been put into this and it has now materialized.”

Xander set his wine down. The other guests did too. Xander was the lead investor with the others being the minor backers. “Even the ship component? You were previously having trouble with transitioning between modes, remember.”

“I told you, even the ship component. The sea or the air, it can traverse all.”

“Camouflage?” a rich woman asked.

“Lian Zhou’s fingers drummed against the armrest. “Untraceable.”

Xander’s voice was full of a smile. “Excellent. Excellent, excellent!”

“We, my friends, have made the ultimate vessel.” Lian Zhou leaned back, savoring the moment. “With this, we can traverse realms without notice. Whether it is the Current of Darkness or the Devil’s Triangle, no eyes upon us. No interference.”

Xander shook his head, his smile as if already knowing this news. He probably did. This whole show was just that: a show. Music to get the mood going and the bombshell revelation that a legendary project was complete. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

Lian Zhou smirked. “I know.”

“And the workers?”

A question from another one of Xander’s cohorts.

“We were lucky,” said Lian Zhou. “That gap in the Great Wall allowed us to toss them in.”

“So all of them in the Slums?”

“Yep, and nobody will know.”

Lian Zhou laughed first and then everyone, even Xander, followed suit. In his own private room, cross-legged, the eyes under the black opera mask of Myth opened.

’A blip capable of traversing both the Current of Darkness and the Devil’s Triangle? That will come in handy indeed.’

Somehow, this invention wasn’t the most important thing here. It was Myth. Myth who was standing there and listening to these people. Myth who realized that his own boss happily forced his own underlings to die in the Slums.

’I can see your expression, Red Sorcerer. You may hide but I know you don’t like this.’

The more powerful one became, the more rampant their emotions. The Red Sorcerer was no different. No different at all.

***

Some hours later, the guests left. Myth did not dare follow, not tonight. ’The information is too fresh. I should wait before attempting to spy on them, whether with the help of the Whispers or otherwise.’

Myth was allowed to stay and go inside Xander’s home at any time. Indeed, staying for hours upon hours was normal and for tonight, necessary. The Red Sorcerer, who was the primary guard and teleported inside and out, smiled upon seeing Myth in the halls and theatrically gestured for him to go in.

“He awaits,” said the Red Sorcerer.

Xander sat on a wooden chair in his room. A quiet fireplace in the back. Bookcases and a study desk. It was a tight, cozy fit. Some papers were strewn on his study desk. Myth knocked on the door. With his Qi Sense, he could make out every individual letter on the letters. There was no need to check.

“Come in,” said the master of the house through the door. So, Myth walked in. He and Xander were alone.

“Xander.” A bow from the musician. A smile from Xander.

“Always with the mask and tall tales. Excellent work as always.” From his breast pocket, Xander pulled out a pure gold coin. “Would this suffice?”

“If I started accepting coin, I would no longer be here.”

“Ha, quite true.” Xander’s smile fell as he hollered, “Alastair! Bring me a chair!”

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