Chapter 35 Out with the old, in with the new! Let's pray for a normal prince! ...

The night sky, cleared after the rain, was still filled with mist, and the full moon shone brighter than usual.

Ashlin couldn't breathe, took a few steps back, and felt her blood run cold.

The statue behind her was making strange noises, as if someone was breathing slightly and whispering something, but she didn't care.

What are you saying?

“Ah, that’s easy to understand,” Aidan said cheerfully. “The sheet music you wrote down was written by me, and the magic was also guided by me, so it’s normal that you didn’t realize it.”

He circled the dead oak tree, admiring their "masterpiece." "I must say, the withered effect is more beautiful than I imagined."

Ashlin took a few steps back. "You're crazy."

“Remember when I said our meeting was destined? I wasn’t wrong, you appeared when I needed you most,” Aidan said. “I couldn’t have accomplished this by myself as an elf; only with the help of the Children of the Forest could I have succeeded.”

"Yes, I tried. I took the magic flute, not Tara. She just captured me because I did break some magical barrier. To shut her up, I had to make a daring deal: keep it a secret in exchange for her mother's resurrection. It's a shame I didn't have some forgetfulness potions with me; you could say I miscalculated."

"Of course, the three-headed dog was unexpected. I knew it would punish sinners, and I knew the protective layer would prevent dark creatures from entering, but I didn't expect your magic at the Star and Moon Party to be so powerful that it broke through the protective layer."

Ashlin gritted her teeth, the image of the elven knight's death still vivid in her mind, the smell of blood still lingering in her mouth and nose.

She was indeed the one who killed Tara. But if it weren't for Aidan, even if she broke through the protective barrier, Cerberus wouldn't have been able to break in.

"Tara's death was partly your fault. You're still friends!"

Aidan lowered his head, looking very sad. Ashlin couldn't tell if he was genuinely upset or just pretending. It seemed she knew absolutely nothing about her idol.

“It’s my fault. I never intended for her to die… She worked so hard and finally became a knight…” He took a deep breath. “However, for the greater good, some things can be sacrificed, such as friends, principles, and… well, usually these kinds of things.”

Ashley was furious.

"Nothing is worth sacrificing your friends and principles, you idiot."

Aidan smiled gently.

“Tara and I weren’t that close. Ever since she became a knight, she’s always treated me coldly, just like Melia.” His tone grew even colder as he spoke of his sister. “If I were the one who died, Tara probably wouldn’t be that sad.”

“Light may fade, rivers may dry up, life may perish,” Aidan said. “The Magic Flute, a double-edged sword. It can heal, and it can destroy, depending entirely on how you use it. Death has truly given us a great gift!”

What did he say at the time?

Its withering is not the end, but the beginning.

“You…you think the elves are too dependent on the Divine Oak,” Ashlin guessed. “All the elves believe that magic comes from the Divine Oak, but you know that it actually comes from creation itself. You believe that only by destroying the Divine Oak can the elven art be liberated.”

Aidan smiled with satisfaction.

"To create something new, you must first cut off the old roots. I knew you would understand."

No, that's not how it is, Ashlin thought.

The sacred oak tree is the faith of the elves, embodying their traditions and hopes, and is also the life given by the forest goddess.

Yes, it can age gradually over time, nourished by nutrients to give rise to new life, but it cannot be brutally cut off.

This is unnatural and will bring retribution.

The Magic Flute is still in Ashlyn's hands. What if she were to play some destructive tune at Aidan right now? Does she have the ability to do so?

As if seeing through Ashlin's thoughts, Aidan gave an almost shy smile.

Ashlin remembered the entrance she had just seen in the music, and now she understood.

That's the entrance to the Edoro Labyrinth.

“Dark magic.” She clenched her fist. “You, the Elf Prince… how could you allow the dark magic of the labyrinth to enter Ilovena?”

Aidan chuckled softly, as if Ashlind were one of his inquisitive students.

"What is black, and what is white? Don't always look at the world with a black-and-white perspective, Ashlin. The Labyrinth of Edoro holds a power you can't even dream of, and that power is the key to the revival of Ilovia."

"All the stories you've heard from adults about the 'darkness of the Cynthian Empire' are wrong. The Cynthian era was a great era, an era of fantasy, an era of art, an era of dreams... We will bring about this era together and create timeless music."

Ashlyn couldn't believe it was real. She had just had a fight with an arrogant prince, and now she discovered that another prince was actually a psychopath trying to revive dark magic.

Are all princes in this world not normal? After her journey, she vowed never to deal with princes of any race again. Perhaps she should publish a guide to avoiding princes.

Aidan used her; from beginning to end, she was merely a pawn in his insane game, her sole purpose being to destroy Ilovian's oldest magic. And yet, she had once so adored him, captivated by his music, his voice, and his elegance.

The anger that she had finally managed to dispel surged back. She felt like a giant tree burning fiercely, with magic surging through her veins, almost piercing her skin at any moment.

The last time she felt something like that was when she rescued Lucas from being tied up at the tavern yesterday, when she was filled with fear and anger over the prince’s fate.

But this time it's different; this time it's more intense.

She even felt that she could tear this elf, who looked like she was watching a show, to shreds whenever she wanted.

“Have you forgotten something?” she asked. “We are in a garden.”

She gathered her rage and tried to unleash the thorns from the rose bushes on Aidan.

"Come on," she roared inwardly. "It's time for him to realize the power of the forest's blood. She is not a pawn to be manipulated; she is the forest."

However, the thorns remained unmoved.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” she asked irritably, though of course Thorns didn’t reply.

She tried a few more times, but could only stare at her hands in despair.

"Oh, right, I also briefly suppressed your forest magic while playing the music. You're welcome."

She then noticed that her body was shimmering with a purple light, just like the Divine Oak, which was Aidan's magic binding her.

Aidan shrugged.

"Perhaps, but it's worth a try. After witnessing such a dramatic change in Ilovania, I know that elves must make a change. Can you imagine, Ashlin? Day after day, year after year, living in a cycle of repetitive days, creating repetitive works?"

"Since losing Cliff, Melia's rule has declined; inspiration has run dry, and creation has ceased. My sister no longer cares about any living elves, and Elf Valley has been completely closed off."

“I can’t feel anything anymore… emotions, feelings, aura, everything has vanished. So many times, I begged Melia to open the door, not even the door to Ilovia, just her own room… She never responded to me unless it was a matter of state. She only cared about those who were already dead. She couldn’t see me.”

“If you want to get Melia’s attention,” Ashlin said, “there are far better ways than killing the Divine Oak!”

“Then you are wrong, Ashlin. Elves have long lifespans, and we don’t have such a clear concept of time as you do. Time heals humans, but it only numbs us. My sister can ignore my heart forever unless something breaks her cycle of sorrow,” Aidan said softly. “I was once in despair… until more than twenty years ago, I finally found him.”

He tilted his head back, his eyes flashing a strange purple light.

Ashlyn tried to take the opportunity to throw the magic flute into her inventory, but Aidan saw through her plan and lazily waved his hand.

The purple smoke instantly brought the magic flute to his feet, where he picked it up.

"Oh dear, why are you so impatient?" He put on an innocent expression again. "Usually, a righteous little girl like you would let the 'villain' finish speaking at times like this."

Ashlin shook her head in disgust, finding it hard to believe she had ever liked this guy. She really needed to be more careful about her idols in the future; at least she needed to make sure they didn't have any hobbies like manipulating fans or destroying the world.

Why could he so easily sacrifice his friends for an era that never existed, for some empty so-called art?

"I have absolutely no interest in your boring story. Want to know my opinion? You better never become a playwright, or the audience will all fall asleep," she said viciously.

"I'm just an artist who wants to be reborn."

Aidan deliberately ignored her last sentence.

"Madman? That's called a pioneer. All the great people in history were called madmen by people like you before they succeeded."

She tried to escape, but felt the magic tighten, rendering her unable to move and leaving her only able to struggle in vain.

Aidan moved closer, and Ashlin felt even more disgusted.

"Want my advice? Listen quietly, and perhaps you still have a chance. Where were we? Right, I found... that human child. His name is Knox, right?"

Ashley's breathing stopped.

"No."

“So you’ve heard of him, that’s wonderful.” Aidan seemed genuinely happy for her. “Actually, I think the music I wrote was so powerful that it resonated with the darkness. I not only summoned him, but I also gave him some extra youthful energy that belonged to the elves… Originally, I wanted to release Cynthia, but that would have been quite difficult.”

"I don't know exactly where Knox came from, but he's a charming and elegant young man... Your Cat Prince sometimes reminds me of him. Ah, what a surprise to summon a follower of the Dark Witch. He's told me quite a few interesting things about the labyrinth."

Nox is not a person of this era. He was given youth by Aidan's music, which is why he could see the dragon Aesusa twenty years ago, give her a transformation potion, and still look like a young boy now.

But isn't he the son of Knox, the blacksmith from Dragontooth Village? And what's the deal with that old Knox?

This is useful information, and a good puzzle; Lucas will like it. Ashlin made a mental note of it.

But she soon realized that Aidan was now revealing his story and conspiracy in its entirety, clearly believing she would take his secrets to her grave. Knowing any more information or puzzles would be pointless now.

"If only Lucas were here," she thought, then criticized herself.

What good can that sharp-tongued bastard do? If he were a cat, he could make Aidan allergic, but as a human, he'd only end up being controlled by Aidan in the same way.

She has to find a way to break free on her own. Now she can neither solve the problem with the magic of rebellion, nor can she get guidance from others.

Lucas isn't here, but her heart and mind are.

What kind of magic did Aidan put on her?

She knew very little about elven magic, but she was certain that it, like any other form of magic, had its own patterns.

Aidan was bound by the music she had just heard, so to break free, she had to return to the music.

But she didn't have any other musical instruments...

Ashlin suddenly laughed and slapped her forehead. She was so silly.

The human voice is the most convenient musical instrument, yet she forgot this because she sang terribly.

She suddenly started humming the music she had just heard, her pitch not much better than the one she had hummed for the dragon.

"What are you doing?" Aidan asked, puzzled, trying to use the binding magic again, but Ashlin's off-key music had already taken effect.

The entire piece of music was several beats faster. She entered the forest and arrived at the isolated entrance to the Edoro labyrinth, just before the climax of the music.

Right here, Aidan placed the magic on her shoulder.

She touched her right shoulder and pulled out a thin purple thread.

The space and time of music were torn apart by this thread.

She returned to reality, and all the plants in the garden began to sway. As her emotions and thoughts spread, they flew straight toward the elven musician without taking any detours. Each plant was precisely oriented and extremely fast, with no other plants growing.

Aidan stumbled back a few steps, tripping over the overgrown thorns. He tried to push the plants aside, but the thorns scratched his fingers. The thorns intertwined, forming a huge cage that imprisoned him.

“Move it again,” she said, “and you’ll hurt more than just your finger.”

Of all the heinous acts, the one she found most intolerable was deception and manipulation. For a few seconds, she wanted to continue hurting him, to make him pay the price for Tara's death, for the withering of the oak tree, and for the love she had given in vain.

But wasting magic on someone like that is completely pointless; her magic consumes energy. We can't let the bar incident repeat itself.

In the end, she simply reached out her hand, and the thorns made a small opening for her.

"Now, give me back the Magic Flute."

“A good attempt,” the swan remained calm even in its cage, “but it’s all in vain; you’ll soon forget all about it.”

"My memory isn't that bad."

“Yes, but that might not be the case after drinking the forgetfulness potion,” Aidan chuckled. “Please forgive me, I’ve tampered with your wine. In a few minutes, you’ll forget everything that happened after you drank that glass of wine.”

Ashlin felt nauseous.

"A potion of forgetfulness?"

How could Aidan possibly concoct potions?

Even she, a witch who had studied herbalism with a national-level healing wizard since childhood, couldn't concoct the potion of forgetfulness.

Then, an idea flashed through her mind.

Tara's house, Aidan's hand, Setiel's potion bottle lying on the cabinet.

She hadn't yet begun to forget that Aidan had indeed taken something from Setiel's medicine.

“Indeed, there aren’t many elves left who can concoct potions of forgetfulness, but Setir is an excellent healer.” Aidan read her eyes. “Soon, besides me, no one will know the true cause of the God Oak’s death, nor will anyone know where you have gone.”

"In fact, I will sadly tell them that your magic failed and you perished along with the Divine Oak. After that, Ilovia will usher in a new dawn under my and Knox's leadership."

Are you sure?

A clear and familiar voice came from behind them.

Lucas emerged from the statue, looking just as disheveled as before; his clothes were still damp, and he hadn't lost any cat hair.

Under the moonlight, a gentle breeze blew, scattering his dark, curly hair and revealing his weary yet handsome face.

However, no amount of exhaustion and disarray could conceal his inherent charisma. His eyebrows were raised, and a sly smile played on his lips, as if he had just played a huge joke on the world.

Aidan remained frozen in the cage.

"Never forget to look up at the moon, sir."

The human prince spoke, pointing to the night sky.

In the darkness, a moonlit rainbow surrounded the silvery-white full moon.

It's Rainbow Communications.

On the rainbow was Her Majesty Melia's bewildered face.

Author's Note: I recently revised some details in the earlier chapters, and then discovered that I exceeded the word limit... (???)