I, the leader of the esoteric sect, am doing great things in the infinite world!

287 Who is singing, warming the loneliness?

The thunderous roar originating from the heart rolled in, and not only that, the intense tremors seemed to treat the skin of the whole body as a drumhead, and with each beat, an indescribable sense of joy burst forth from the chest.

The storm originated between the ears, touched the skin from the inside out, paused briefly, and then resonated even more intensely.

It's like being in Vienna's Golden Hall, feeling the roar of orchestras coming from all directions—

Heaven and earth were turned upside down, and everything was in a frenzy of intoxication. The thunder from the heart and the echo reflected from the skin merged together. The tiny capillaries in the body had ruptured. The exile struggled to get up, and before he could take two steps, he felt his heart being seized again.

The sound of the single-headed drum Nakara joined in, and the strange drumbeats gave the melodious flute an even more intense rhythm. The crowd moved about busily, seemingly oblivious to the strange music. The wandering musicians disappeared into the crowd, but they continued to create the "slow death" of the demonic sound.

The so-called slow death is only relative to the methods of the Blade Phase and Cast Phase. Compared to the straightforward destruction of the Blade Phase and Cast Phase, the Heart Phase and Moth Phase tend to make the victim suffer more and more painful torment.

Even if in one's subjective mind this pain seems to last until the world is destroyed, in the eyes of an onlooker it is at most a minute or two.

With just the movement of getting up, the exile's heart rate soared to over two hundred beats per minute. The immense intraocular pressure blurred her vision. Fortunately, the Blood of the Earth was still able to hold on; otherwise, the exile, who had endured ninety percent of the pressure, should have burst out of her body like a punctured balloon.

When the music, which resonates from the skin and the heart, is formed, a vague feeling arises in the exile's heart: he has at most one minute left to struggle.

She clenched her fists little by little, feeling the thunder gradually growing louder within her body—if the mental image did not summon storms and thunder, but merely acted upon the human body, it could cause pain while simultaneously stimulating vitality.

This is why mystics and spiritualists often come from musicians, dancers, and doctors; these professions allow them to gain a deeper understanding and grasp of spiritual knowledge.

This minute will send the exile swiftly toward death, but it will also make her stronger than ever before.

......

"Hmm? Did you hear the music?" Hearing the sound, Li Lin shifted his gaze from the food stall, looked up, and glanced around.

Before the words were finished, the melodious sound of a flute was already approaching from afar.

In 2010, he took a big bite of Arabic flatbread from Li Lin's hand. As part of Muslim culture, Arabic flatbread, like steamed buns and dumplings in the Ming Dynasty, plays an important role in three meals a day.

“This is the invisible art of mind perception.” Nian spoke up at the right moment, diverting Li Lin’s attention and taking the opportunity to bite him again, “It’s aimed at you, and the effect will probably be to rupture your internal organs and kill you.”

"Heh heh." Li Lin perked up. "Who's so reckless as to dare come looking for me?"

"I told you this is Algiers. Nationalistic sentiments and absurd pride are mixed together. Who knows who they are? Fear doesn't exist for them. To them, dying means going to heaven with seventy-two untouched male girls to serve them. It's wonderful."

Li Lin, with his unique and abnormal thought patterns characteristic of psychopathy, fell into a brief moment of thought: So, these shameless and self-aware guys are actually here to see me as a shortcut to heaven?

There's no such thing as a free lunch!

Some of them enjoy themselves without even sharing!

Unable to bear seeing others succeed, Li Lin suddenly became emboldened and slammed his Jing Shen sword on the ground. At the same time, through the resonance of the Divine Heart, the effect of Jing Shen spread rapidly. In an instant, whether it was innocent pedestrians or musicians hiding in the crowd who intended to get rid of Li Lin, the escaped fish, they all fell into an inevitable mental blank.

--What happened?

The continuous performance was interrupted by a startling sound, but the invisible magic that had already taken effect would not simply fade away. The folk tunes of Algiers were gradually becoming louder, a product of the resonance of the heart, skin, and bones. A "music" unique to Li Lin was taking shape.

"Stay where you are and don't move!" Nian even forgot about eating. "This is the Sufi sect's invisible technique, directly corresponding to the Shining Mountain Gap in the Divine Star!"

"What the hell?" Li Lin scratched his head in surprise. How did he get involved with Si Chen?

And who is this "Gap in Yaoshan"? I've never heard anyone mention it before.

“The crevices of Yaoshan, also known as the Mountain Burst or the Wound, are revered as the God who receives all things, the God who brings gifts, and the God who bursts forth from the mountains,” Nian said quickly, seemingly reluctant to introduce this deity. “It’s normal that you haven’t heard of His faith, because He is a deity who only exists in Islam.”

“But that’s not the point. The point is, don’t move,” Nian said.

This invisible art essentially harms through resonance within the body, employing a mysterious connection between snapping fingers, rhythms, drumbeats, and the heart. Its essence lies in disrupting the body's balance to cause more severe damage.

Li Lin looked troubled: "Is it just that I can't move?"

“It’s like this,” Nian said, “what do you want to do?”

Li Lin possesses the secret technique of the Outer Realm inherited from the Thunder King. Even if he does nothing, his low-level Mind Image Formless Technique will dissipate on its own after a short period of time.

But is Master Li that kind of person?

"I want to sing." Unable to suppress the singing desire deep within him, Li Lin opened his mouth and exclaimed, "I want to hit a high note that will destroy the world!"

"Dancing for three days and three nights, until the middle of the night, without stopping!"

Li Lin sang with all his might, followed by a burst of joyful feeling in his chest, as if something was stirring within his body.

This is not enough.

However, the intangible art of mind perception has been suppressed.

To be precise, it was steered in a different direction of development.

Li Lin seemed intent on hitting a high note. Glancing around at the stunned crowd, a proud smile appeared on his face. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and sang: "Yala Suo—that's Qinghai! Tibet! High! Awoooooooooooo—Awoooo ...

The onlookers gasped in shock, and after regaining their senses, they applauded. Although they couldn't understand what Li Lin was saying, they were terrified by his fierce high-pitched voice. Some even went up to him, put their hands together in respect, and offered him money as a reward.

Li Lin couldn't help but show an expression of disbelief. Could he really sing high notes?

In his shock, he didn't realize that with his high-pitched singing, the invisible mental technique on his body had been broken.

......

On the other side, the musician, who had just suffered a shocking blow and was still recovering, trembled as if struck by lightning the moment the invisible magic was broken. The backlash, following the occult connection, appeared strangely on his arm.

The musician holding the Nakara drum in one hand was sweating profusely. His right arm was unnaturally twisted, but the strange thing was that when his left hand brushed over his right arm, which was visually twisted into a pretzel, it was still smooth and flat, as if it were just an illusion. However, the excruciating pain in his arm was undeniable.

The occurrence of this situation can only prove one thing: his sense of touch is experiencing dissociation.

“Ibdullah!” The musician with the flute helped him up. “Hurry up.”

Contrary to expectations, the ceremony was led not by the eloquent flutist, but by an unassuming musician named Ibdullah, who held a single-sided drum.

Now that the ceremony has been forced to stop, they can only keep fleeing.

More importantly, their intended assassination target is now pursuing them.

They have one minute left.

288 A very serious chapter

One minute left.

The exile's face was an unnatural red, she was breathing heavily, feathers fluttered up and down at her temples, and the pistol decorated with pearls and ivory was gripped tightly, ready to fire at any moment.

The surrounding noise drowned out the music, but as time went on, the exile's understanding of the wandering musicians became clearer and clearer. It was an almost animalistic intuition. She remembered how the man she had once called her father trained her in the wilderness when she left the orange grove in Sicily and first arrived in the land of the clearing people.

"You should learn to sniff out droppings and distinguish footprints like a wolf, otherwise you will be disgracing my blood."

In the howling, scorching wind of the wilderness, a man with iron-gray eyes spoke to her.

The invisible arts left their mark on her, and these marks are the best lesson.

The map of the Caspar district transformed from two-dimensional to three-dimensional in my mind. The bustling crowds turned into iron-gray ashes and vanished into thin air, leaving only rows of buildings. Among these buildings, a red line meandered and stretched out, which was the musicians' escape route. It was the shortest way.

Fifty seconds.

Ignoring the cries for help and the calls for help from the pedestrians around her, Snyder stared wide-eyed at the fading, blurry traces and suddenly fired her gun!

The gun muzzle flashed, and the silver bullet, propelled by the primer, flew swiftly through the panicked crowd, heading straight for the last, somewhat overweight musician!

"You go." The obese musician turned around without hesitation and stopped running away, plucking the strings as he turned.

The vibrating strings produced a resounding melody, a sound like horses' hooves clashing on a battlefield, or the trembling of swords clashing—exhilarating and resounding.

Almost simultaneously, the pedestrians around him spontaneously swarmed over to shield him from the fatal shot.

Hopefully, this can buy him some time... If he can buy him even a minute, he has a chance to live. There are many believers nearby who are willing to sacrifice themselves for their faith, and they would surely give their lives for it.

The obese musician's fingers plucked the strings of the oud, preparing to play the next note at an incredible speed.

However, a hand gripped the oud's neck, and as the exile stepped forward, he bent his elbow and slammed it into the chest of the surging crowd. The immense force pushed the crowd aside, and then he kicked the fat musician in the groin.

As the obese musician screamed and staggered back, she seized the oud from his hand and used it to smash his face, denting it inward.

Forty-one seconds.

Apart from Ibdula, who has been severely affected by the backlash, the remaining two Heart Musicians maintain speeds that are unimaginable to ordinary people. Although their explosive power is slightly inferior, their sustainable physical fitness is better than anyone else's.

They chased each other along the edges of white walls planted with huge palm trees, beneath low stone buildings and domed mosques. Neither buildings, vehicles, nor pedestrians were obstacles. They seemed to move swiftly between railings, eaves, rooftops, streetlights, and windowsills, as nimble as birds. At that moment, they were more like dancers than musicians.

They kept moving and constantly changing direction in order to avoid being shot by the exiles.

Thirty seconds.

The exile took a deep breath, her pace suddenly quickened, her thoughts became increasingly chaotic, and she saw nothing but her target.

She no longer suppressed her true nature, but instead drew the Demon King's Blade given to her by Li Lin and threw it at the musician who was jumping on the edge of the windowsill!

The air was torn apart, and the faint roar of an angry whale could be heard. The surroundings became damp, and the musicians involuntarily saw a vast starry sea before their eyes. Already burdened by their seriously injured companions, they lost their balance and fell from the sky.

Twenty-eight seconds.

The exile roared and strode forward. She raised her gun and pressed the muzzle against the chest of the musician holding the castanets, firing repeatedly until he staggered backward. From Abdullah's angle, he could only see his companion's body trembling with each boom.

The riddled corpse fell to the ground only after the exiles raised their guns again.

Not everyone is a superhuman who receives the attention of a high-ranking being, understands their own desires, and is imbued with multiple layers of marks. Like this unfortunate fellow who was executed by the exiles with gunfire, he was just an apprentice with the first mark. The fact that he was able to endure for so long was due to the effects of the Heart-Shaped Ritual.

Eleven seconds.

Eleven seconds remain. If they can endure these eleven seconds, the suppressed "music" will burst forth, and the exiles before them will be torn to pieces. However, both the wandering musician and Ibdullah cannot help but have doubts.

Even if eleven seconds have passed, will she really die?

They had never seen such resilient life.