Chasing Time

“Next, we have the most noble recipient of the Order of the Garter, the Grand Cross of Saint Michael and Saint George, the Grand Cross of the Bath, the Victoria Cross and the lower grades of Knighthood, the leader of the anti-colonial movement, the bell-ringer of the East India Company, the hero of the Crimean War, a Fellow of the Royal Society, a lifelong dear friend of literary giants such as Dickens and Great Dumas, a steadfast supporter of scientific luminaries like Faraday and Darwin, having served as assistant under-secretary, deputy under-secretary, and permanent under-secretary in departments of the Home Office and the Navy Department of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, the inaugural Cabinet Secretary and head of the civil service, the first graduate and most distinguished alumnus of our school. Please welcome Sir Arthur Hastings to deliver a speech on the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of the University of London.”
Arthur's gaze swept across the crowd before him, looking at the young faces and murmured, “Agares, what do you think I should say?”
The Red Devil's wraith hovered behind him, saliva almost dribbling from the corner of his mouth, “Look at these ignorant souls; they still worship you as a hero. Why not say something they'd like to hear?”
Arthur took a deep breath and let out a deafening roar, “Oxford is a bunch of whores' bastards!”
“Oh!!!!”
The audience erupted into thunderous applause.
“Cambridge is the same!” he added immediately.
The applause grew even more fervent...
(The protagonist, possessed by a devil, travels through 19th-century Britain in a world without magic)

The Shadow of Great Britain

If London is the riddle, Paris is the answer.


The brilliant crystal chandelier cast a soft and splendid glow, turning the ballroom into a dreamlike realm.


The air was filled with the scent of roses and violets, intertwining with the gentle champagne bubbles to weave a luxurious overture.


Liszt, in his splendid evening attire, drew everyone's gaze, his fingers gliding with tremor akin to a majestic phoenix in flight, the melody shifting from gentle to intense, every note seeming to possess life, leaping, spinning.


Although Heine often disparaged Liszt's performances to Arthur's face, claiming they were technical but devoid of emotion, to Arthur, a novice in piano playing, Liszt's performances were not merely displays of technique but outpourings of emotion. The seamless transition between delicate, mountain-stream smoothness and passionate, stormy intensity could not be achieved by technique alone.


Chapter 43: The Old Nobility and the New Emperor