Glorious God Throne

“As expected of the Moonlight Temple…”

Anyone visiting this place, revered worldwide as the supreme hall of art, couldn’t help but make such an exclamation. Joey was no exception.

Poetic, magnificent, dreamlike… all imaginable words could seamlessly describe this place.

The lighting floating around was softer and hazier than moonlight. Through the dome at the highest point, one could even see the starry sky outside, with starlight from billions of light years away falling on his head.

It made one feel as if they were in a dreamy cosmic space.

At this time, the grand ensemble of the music parade had been isolated outside. The moment one stepped into the Moonlight Temple, it was like leaving extreme noise and clamor to suddenly enter a quiet world.

People gradually broke away from the parade procession like Joey, entering the Moonlight Temple either before or after him. These people also fell into momentary silence upon entering, just like Joey, but for different reasons—

“…What just happened? What did I do?”

“…Was that eerie ‘Ode to Peace’ really played by me? I must have been possessed!”

“…Everything was normal before, when did it go wrong? Oh no, I can’t even remember how the normal ‘Ode to Peace’ should be played…”

“Eh? You too?”

Amidst the dejected and frustrated whispers, people quickly discovered others in similar bizarre states, and both familiar and unfamiliar individuals couldn’t help but discuss this topic.

Joey overheard two people walking in front of him exchanging words, discovering that neither could find their normal musical rhythm in the short term. After some bewildered muttering, these two spoke in extremely heavy tones.

“I really don’t know who that person was who first led the rhythm astray. Now even when I try to recall familiar tunes, the first version that plays in my mind is the ghostly rhythm version. This is maddening. We can only hope that after listening to this concert, we can find our normal aesthetic sense again through truly wonderful music!”

“—We definitely can, this is the Moonlight Temple after all! Anyone who can hold a concert here must possess extraordinary musical talent. They’ll surely help us rediscover our appreciation for beautiful music!”

Hearing this, Joey, walking behind the two, couldn’t help but interject. “Isn’t that going too far? Weren’t we all immersed in it just now? What do you mean by finding normal aesthetic sense? There’s no normal or abnormal when it comes to appreciating music. As long as it can immerse people, that proves music’s charm.”

The two people, suddenly interrupted, were initially displeased, but upon turning to see Joey clearly, their displeasure quickly dissipated.

The young man before them was at most 22 years old, carrying a classical artist’s air that matched perfectly with the Roland Kingdom, his quiet and beautiful features devoid of any aggression, instead appearing quite naive.

—Joey’s appearance, temperament, and his seemingly ever-emanating hidden spiritual waves always made people feel favorable towards him, unconsciously lowering their guard.

The two strangers, who thought they weren’t much older than him, showed a hint of affection in their eyes and shook their heads with a sigh. “Young man, you’re still under the influence, aren’t you! Otherwise, you wouldn’t say such things.”

Joey: “???”

His expression made the two misunderstand even more deeply, making them more worried for him. “Surely no one with normal aesthetic sense would appreciate that ghostly music from earlier? Young man, wake up! Don’t let your aesthetic sense be led astray! Quick, quick, let’s take our seats, the concert is about to begin, you can still be saved!”

Joey: “No, I don’t think I need saving…”

“No, you do. Word has it that the first performer at the concert is a newly famous musical prodigy from the Roland Kingdom, possessing unparalleled musical talent. Not even 30 years old and already having the opportunity to perform at the Moonlight Temple… And I have inside information – it’s an original piano piece. They say the masters who’ve heard this piece gave it extremely high praise. It will surely help correct your aesthetic sense, young man!”

“Yes, very soon, once you witness this musical prodigy’s performance, you’ll definitely rediscover your appreciation for music and understand what truly deserves to be appreciated!”

Joey: “…”

“Then I’ll make sure to appreciate it properly.” After a silence, amidst their enthusiastic recommendations, he showed an excessively gentle smile, drawing out his final words, “…I hope it won’t disappoint my expectations.”

Twenty minutes later.

Joey: “…Is this it?”

The concert had begun, and in the quiet Moonlight Temple, only piano notes more serene than moonlight echoed softly. Almost everyone was already immersed in this moonlit atmosphere.

Only Joey sat stoically in his seat, his pitch-black eyes suddenly snapping open from their lazy half-closed state, looking at the person at the piano on stage with a gaze sharper than a blade.

If Duzuo were present now, he would hardly believe that this Joey was the same tourist and art enthusiast he had met earlier. His entire demeanor had changed.

“This is what they call a genius performance? The real music that’s supposed to correct my aesthetic sense?” With a sneer, Joey suddenly stood up from his seat, his gaze sweeping around before settling on the person on stage, his tone becoming impatient, “How utterly disappointing! And here I was hoping to relax a bit before handling business…”

His action jolted people out of their musical immersion, and they looked at him strangely, with some wanting to tell him to sit down. The young man on stage seemed affected too, his brows furrowing slightly as he missed a beat, though he quickly recovered his rhythm. This only made others more displeased with Joey.

Joey completely ignored everyone’s gazes and complaints, keeping his eyes fixed on the performer as he continued, “Let me tell you, finding someone else’s unpublished manuscript somewhere and gleefully claiming it as your own, using others’ work to package yourself as musically talented…”

As he spoke, the young man’s face changed slightly, completely losing his rhythm. The audience members who had been complaining about Joey’s disruption suddenly understood something, becoming dumbfounded.

Then they heard Joey continue his merciless attack. “…And a group claiming to gather the world’s top musicians couldn’t even notice this talent that completely mismatches the person, couldn’t see through this so-called genius’s true ability, actually letting him appear in this supposed supreme hall of art, polluting my ears – how outrageous!”

BANG!

A heavy piano strike echoed through the hall.

The young man on stage couldn’t hold back anymore, standing up abruptly to face Joey. “Sir, please—”

“You can’t even plagiarize properly, turning a devotional hymn to the divine into a child’s gratitude song to parents, and you have the nerve to correct my aesthetic sense!”

Joey raised his eyelids disdainfully, pointing at the other person as he spoke, his tone emanating arrogance and wildness completely at odds with his beautiful appearance.

…Wait, when did I ever say I would correct your aesthetic sense?! The fear of sudden exposure made someone’s heart sink like ice. But Joey’s seemingly baseless accusations also made him feel inexplicably wronged and angry yet confused. Just as he was about to make excuses—

Whoosh…

A Spirit Forger’s power comes from emotions, will, and spirit. The moment Joey pointed at him, an imaginary, formless wild wind seemed to sweep out from Joey as its center, affecting everyone with his unconsciously leaked intense emotions, making them lose themselves in this storm surge of spirituality.

Mockery, weariness, contempt, arrogance, and deep boredom… The young man on stage suddenly turned pale, his gaze becoming increasingly dazed, as if consumed by some hollow, empty emotion. He staggered backward rigidly, his body bumping into the piano, his elbow pressing down on the keys creating a heavy note.

DONG—

The people swept up in that invisible spiritual storm finally regained slight consciousness. In this brief moment of clarity, they saw the long-haired young man who had somehow already reached the stage raise one hand.

His palm faced upward, releasing a floating black cube.

“…To worship such a person as a true musical genius, to regard his completely misinterpreted music as sacred sounds of purification, such standards are truly disappointing.”

The cube slowly rose, rotating in mid-air to reveal its 5×5×5 black faces, continuously flying toward the starry sea above the dome, growing larger and larger in everyone’s sight until it blocked all starlight from the dome, plunging the entire Moonlight Temple into lightless darkness.

Amidst the chaotic exclamations, only Joey’s voice remained unaffected, still calm and matter-of-fact—

“Music, painting, everything else… rigid, closed-minded, conservative, no innovative development at all, and unable to embrace aesthetics different from the mainstream. Is this what you call the country of art? Boring, boring, so boring!”

“Let me tell you all…”

“—It’s time to experience true art!”

Meanwhile, outside the Moonlight Temple.

The musical parade wandered through the royal city’s streets. Duzuo, who had tried hard but still couldn’t recover from the influence of the ghostly music, completely gave up.

Looking at others who seemed oblivious to this, listening to everyone’s ensemble of ghostly music, his face gradually lost all expression.

“…I’m tired, just destroy it all, hurry up.”

The next instant, moonlight vanished as black shadows enveloped the earth. Everyone looked up dumbfounded, horrified to see a strange cube descending from the sky above.

“…Don’t come over here!”

Just before completely losing consciousness, Duzuo let out a confused cry, “No, that’s really not what I meant!”

When he regained consciousness, he found himself in a small room with nine other people.

On the four walls of the room was a long, connected mural, like a dragon winding along the walls, giving off a sense of being “alive,” as if quietly observing them.

Simultaneously, a voice echoed in everyone’s ears.

[Welcome to the Art Paradise Trial Space.]

[Please prepare yourself for your first trial.]

[Those who pass twelve trials will qualify for Art Paradise; failures will be cast into Art Purgatory.]

“How is it?”

While everyone struggled in their trials, Joey’s voice suddenly appeared in the central square of the cube. He turned his gaze toward the ethereal, formless soul floating in mid-air.

“Based on their skills, I’ve placed them in trial spaces of different art categories,” the boy’s childish voice rang out. “Your design is ingenious, allowing these people who’ve never encountered Spirit Forging to learn through continuous trial failures. Once they grasp the basics of Spirit Forging, they can pass the first trial. Those who can’t either lack talent or wisdom, clearly unqualified. The most excellent ones should be qualified to join the Artists Association. This screening method is very convenient.”

“However…” he cast a curious glance at Joey, “this trial space gives me such a strong sense of déjà vu.”

Joey smiled slightly and spoke frankly.

“Compared to those Main Gods in infinite flow novels where you die if you don’t clear the levels, I’m giving them a path to true art. They just need to keep learning, keep taking tests, keep experiencing the process of their spirit being polluted and healed. Compared to the trial process, the final reward is already quite generous.”

“Oh right,” he seemed to suddenly remember something, raising his hand to draw in the air, and immediately incredibly realistic portraits appeared floating in mid-air. The first one on the left was Grant, and the following ones, if Duzuo were here, he would recognize them all as people who had criticized Joey’s art throughout the day. “Mark these people specifically, double their trial difficulty.”

“—No, make it triple,” he quickly overturned his own order. “Their aesthetic sense is too rigid; they probably need intensified learning to comprehend true art.”

As he said this, he showed an incredibly gentle smile.

“Especially the first one – give me the space number he’s in. Since I’m bored anyway, I’ll personally arrange it for him. I must make sure he walks on the truly correct path of art.”

—Let him understand what Art Paradise (Purgatory) is, and what it means to be a senior artist who doesn’t hold (extremely harbors) grudges while nurturing juniors 🙂

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