Chapter 226 - The One Who Will Be Mine

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A vast, splendid stage. Thousands upon thousands of seats. Tier upon tier of balconies.

Furnished with nothing but the finest, the opera house was so beautiful that it was a work of art in its own right. Most actors or musicians would have died without regrets if they could have performed here even once.

Yet at this very moment, not a single actor or musician stood on that stage. There was only a video playing on a screen, accompanied by the sound from speakers installed onstage.

“Hmm.”

Directly opposite the stage, in the exclusive second-floor VIP balcony that offered the best view in the immense opera house, a woman was watching the video intently.

Her long legs elegantly crossed, her slender body tilted to one side, and her chin resting on a pale, delicate hand, she was practically reclining rather than sitting. Her posture was so indolent that she might have been watching television in her own home.

In fact, that description was not entirely wrong. The opera house might not have been her home, but it had certainly become her property just moments ago.

Thus, enjoying sole possession of this enormous space as its one and only audience member, she spoke without taking her eyes off the screen.

“Are you certain this is the man?”

“I would stake my life on it.”

“What a dull joke.”

She sneered at the middle-aged man who had remained kneeling behind her all this time, less an audience member than a mere ornament. Then she drawled,

“If your report proves false, do you imagine your paltry life alone could pay for it?”

Those were merciless words to address to someone who had vouched for his report with his very life. But the middle-aged man was not disappointed. Instead, as though her response were only natural, he bowed his head still lower and amended his words.

“Then I shall stake my family as well.”

If his report contained even the slightest error, he would surrender his family's entire fortune and take his own life along with every member of his household. Hearing him declare this without a moment's hesitation, she looked unimpressed.

“Never mind. I have no interest in the Rockefeller family's pocket change, and you are worth more alive than dead.”

“Thank you for your generous decision.”

“Hmph. You certainly know how to say the right things.”

After a brief scoff, she lost interest in the middle-aged man and returned her gaze to the video. Watching the movements of the black-haired young man's hands as he played the violin, she spoke softly.

“Indeed, there seems to be no trace of the principles of the Seventy-Two Martial Schools.”

“Yes. The elders have also assured me of that.”

“And yet you sensed powerful psionics in this man's performance?”

“I did.”

Had another expert of the Seven Dragons Society heard that, they would have scoffed and asked what sort of joke it was. Even the Society's seven clans had limits to the psionics they could wield innately. The Seventy-Two Martial Schools existed precisely to overcome those limits. They were the Society's supreme secret arts, not only increasing each individual's psionics but transforming their properties to strengthen the body and manifest specific supernatural abilities.

But to imbue a musical performance with psionics without using the Seventy-Two Martial Schools? And to make waves of psionics resonate distinctly throughout all of London, no less? It was absurd. Even a master-level expert could not control psionics with such precision without drawing upon the Seventy-Two Martial Schools.

“What a truly fascinating tale.”

Yet she looked intrigued. It was not because she trusted that the head of the prestigious Rockefeller family, a master-level expert, could never mistake psionics for something else or joke with his family's survival at stake. The very fact that such an outlandish claim needed to be investigated was unusual enough to capture her interest.

Besides, there were plenty of other intriguing aspects to this affair.

“It is almost a pity that we failed to ascertain precisely what happened in London.”

“... My apologies.”

“Be very apologetic.”

A failure to gather information was understandable, but diminishing her interest was a grave offense. After coldly reproaching the middle-aged man to that effect, she sank into thought, tapping the armrest with the fingers of the hand that was not supporting her chin.

'As I thought, there seems to be more to the London incident than has been made public.'

The death of Karl, the Monarch of Magic. An attack by unidentified monsters, among other things. Those events alone were intriguing enough. But what interested her most was the Blue Dragon Clan's attitude toward the incident.

Ordinarily, whether out of their upright nature or a desire to flaunt their honor, they would have explained every circumstance in detail. For some reason, this time they had disclosed only a handful of facts even to their fellow members of the Seven Dragons Society—such as the involvement of a ghost of the Liberation Brigade—and otherwise maintained their silence. As though they could not take credit for someone else's glory. Or as though they were concealing something that must never come to light.

'What are you hiding, Rose?'

Another princess might have been a different matter, but it was strange enough that the rigidly principled Blue Dragon Princess should behave this way. And now there was a musician who appeared to wield psionics without the Seventy-Two Martial Schools, through the utterly unfamiliar method of musical performance. How could she possibly remain uninterested?

Nor was the Blue Dragon Princess the only suspicious one.

'Ainsha, what did you see?'

At the center of the video was a white-haired girl spreading psionics, even using the Dragon Throat Singing Style as though determined to monopolize everyone's attention.

'And above all, Li Qingyu, what are you scheming this time?'

The instant she saw the violin-playing young man's jet-black hair, she had naturally thought of the black-haired girl for whom plots and schemes were second nature.

'And what influence has this man had on your behavior?'

The Blue Dragon Princess, keeping secrets so uncharacteristically. The White Dragon Princess, breaking her own rule against using psionics in performances. The Black Dragon Princess, whose inscrutable activities since becoming engaged to the Sword Lord included fighting the Liberation Brigade and eliminating spies with unusual thoroughness. The fact that all three princesses whose recent conduct had been so strange were connected to this man, directly or indirectly, only heightened her interest.

What if this young man was the reason for their behavior? Then who was he? An unprecedented genius who had created a seventy-third martial school for the first time in the Seven Dragons Society's history? A fraud who had cunningly fabricated psionics as part of Li Qingyu's scheme? Or was there some other secret?

'How entertaining.'

Faced with a puzzle she could not solve no matter how much she pondered it, she did not grow angry or irritated. Instead, a faint smile touched her lips. Then she spoke in a voice as clear as golden beads rolling across a silver tray.

“Hans.”

“Yes.”

“Bring this man before me. In return, I shall forgive your failure.”

“... May I resort to force?”

“Do as you please.”

She readily nodded. An ordinary musician might have been another matter, but bringing her a psionic expert of uncertain identity who was connected to no fewer than three princesses could hardly be easy.

“However, I will not tolerate so much as a scratch on him.”

“...?”

Hans looked puzzled despite himself. He knew that ordinarily she would have said it was enough to keep the man alive, rather than impose a condition like this.

“Surely we cannot ruin someone capable of such an exquisite performance before he even becomes my property.”

As though sensing Hans's confusion, she spoke in a low voice. Then, gazing at the black-haired young man on the screen with golden eyes as beautiful as the sun, she added one more thing.

“Remember this. If you fail to bring him before me unharmed, that will truly be the moment for you to surrender your life.”

From gifted individuals to rare treasures, she had sought to possess everything she coveted, and had never once let anything escape her grasp. The greediest of the seven princesses, more arrogant than any other, and for that very reason the most aloof and exalted. Thus, the strongest princess of the Seven Dragons Society began to act.

* * *

THWACK!

In a forest where birds chirped quietly, a middle-aged man was chopping firewood in front of a cabin deep among the trees.

With every swing of his axe, his muscles writhed like earthworms and the wood flew apart with a sharp crack. Despite his graying hair, there was not a hint of frailty in the sturdy man. Hermann stopped chopping, set down his axe, and sat on a stump with a heavy sigh.

It was not because he was tired. Compared with the work he had done all his life, this hardly even counted as exercise. But there was one reason, entirely unrelated to his stamina, that prevented him from swinging the axe any longer.

It was then that he heard voices murmuring somewhere.

“My clothes are still damp...”

“That's why you should've given me the right location. You sent us to the wrong place, and we ended up in the river.”

“The location was accurate. The problem is that only you, Lee, did not fall into the river, contrary to my precognition.”

“... Don't tell me you foresaw us falling into the river and deliberately gave me those directions and that distance?”

“Of course. A man and woman falling into the water together experience the suspension bridge effect. Being soaking wet also increases attractiveness. It is perfectly effective.”

“Oh, yes. It's certainly perfectly effective at giving me a headache.”

Hermann was puzzled. He could not understand what anyone was doing in this deep forest where people normally never ventured. But that lasted only a moment. When he saw the people emerge from the secluded path, his face stiffened.

“Still, looks like we found the right way.”

Hermann paid no attention to what the black-haired young man with the impudent eyes said upon seeing him. More precisely, he could not pay attention. He was too busy being flustered by the white-haired girl trudging along behind the young man, looking like a drowned rat.

“Chairwoman Ainsha? What are you doing here...?”

A world-famous singer and priestess of the Holy Alliance. At the same time, the owner of the massive corporation Tiamat and princess of the White Dragon Clan, whom anyone calling themselves an artist was bound to recognize. While he struggled to hide his astonishment and confusion at Ainsha's appearance in such a remote forest, the black-haired young man addressed him casually.

“Hey, you're Hermann, right?”

“... And who might you be?”

“Me? Just an unremarkable violinist.”

The black-haired young man shrugged. Facing Hermann with a broad grin, Limon added,

“And a client who'd like to commission something from you.”

“A commission? You mean a sculpture?”

“More or less.”

For a moment, Hermann wore a conflicted expression as he watched Limon blithely explain that there was a task he could not entrust to him alone. Then he shook his head.

“I'm sorry, but if you want someone to make a sculpture, you've come to the wrong place. Please leave.”

The world's greatest sculptor, hailed since his youth as Michelangelo reborn, had produced countless masterpieces. But the middle-aged man, who had ceased all activity and gone into seclusion three years ago, slowly opened one hand.

With that trembling hand, he pointed at the firewood, which had been broken into jagged pieces or all but crushed rather than split in half, and smiled bitterly.

“I can no longer make sculptures.”