"Is he just picking a fight because he’s in a bad mood?"

Unable to understand what Lord Gonadaltes was getting at, I-han figured that must be the case. After all, the Skeleton Principal was often in a bad mood more than he was in a good one. Spending a precious weekend with a bothersome bard and an equally bothersome student? Who wouldn’t be irked?

"Alright, let’s head to the next location."

"Yes, sir."

Ifadur, finished with his notes, moved toward their next stop.

Their next stop was a team of stonemasons from the guild repairing a wall damaged by a wild wyvern attack.

- The dwarf with ten fingers swings his hammer, now a dwarf with nine fingers swings the hammer, then eight fingers...

- Excellent, marvelous!

- It’s a miracle!

Next was the <Tbalaldla> tavern, known for serving the best beer in town.

- One day, a lost monster attacked the village, and I struck it down. The people asked for a reward, but I only needed beer! Then bigger monsters threatened the land, so I felled them. They praised me, but beer was all I wanted!

- Boo! Get lost!

- You call that singing?

Following that was a gambling den hosting a large wizard card game...

- One card, each a bet of life itself...

- Could you be quiet?!

- Isn’t it because of you that I keep drawing trash cards?

After that, they visited a small club where local historians gathered.

- There’s a secret in books that we...

- I just had a new inspiration.

- This is a miraculous song!

After making the rounds, they sat down at a café for a break, and I-han, sounding perplexed, commented:

"Primitive magic is unpredictable to an absurd degree. I can’t figure out the pattern here."

While they were highly praised by the stonemasons and historians, they were booed in the tavern and gambling den.

I-han couldn’t understand the difference.

"..."

"..."

Ifadur and Lord Gonadaltes exchanged a look. Unlike I-han, they seemed to have an idea of what was going on.

Clearing his throat, the turtle bard looked at I-han and spoke.

"Wardanaz, do you by chance dislike... fun?"

"What??"

I-han was taken aback.

Disliking fun? The statement felt as offensive as if someone had accused him of not liking money.

"What did I do to deserve such an insult?"

"Oh, no..."

The elderly bard was flustered, seeing this model student show an intense reaction for the first time.

Lord Gonadaltes stepped in to reply on Ifadur’s behalf.

"You don’t like fun."

"No!"

"You most certainly don’t. You’re like an ideal student from the old school."

"No, that’s..."

I-han was about to retort that some of that was because of Lord Gonadaltes himself, but the Principal didn’t give him a chance.

"I hadn’t expected it, but there’s a noticeable tendency here. This is less of a variable and more of a rule."

"Precisely," Ifadur agreed, glancing over his notes with his wrinkled fingers.

Ordinarily, primitive magic had such obscure conditions that it was nearly impossible to discern any rules, but with a boy like Wardanaz, understanding became easier.

He could sing songs that resonated with his way of life, but those that didn’t align couldn’t capture his emotions.

For most, even the right song would have a low success rate, but thanks to Wardanaz’s unique ability, every song succeeded, making this observation possible.

"Thank you for that, Wardanaz."

"Is it possible the theory itself is flawed?" I-han tried to throw in a critique, but they ignored him.

Ifadur was busy looking over the music scores he had recorded.

"Hm. This tune… given how frequently it appears..."

"Wouldn’t it be better to first establish a standardized sheet and then organize the music based on a common system?"

I-han offered, noticing that Ifadur’s scribbled scores were jumbled, with pitch, tone, and rhythm recorded inconsistently and even some parts omitted.

When Ifadur performed solo, the inconsistencies didn’t matter, but for structuring music magic, a unified format was essential.

"Ah… you’re absolutely right."

The old bard was impressed by I-han’s insight, pointing out a method that hadn’t crossed his mind.

He drew up a basic framework and handed half of his notes to I-han.

"Would you mind organizing this?"

"..."

Realizing he’d dug his own grave, I-han began sorting the notes with a resigned expression.

Lord Gonadaltes watched from the side, clicking his tongue.

The boy didn’t just dislike fun; he seemed to abhor it.

---

With the organization complete, Ifadur identified a few common phrases and harmonies, pleased with the results.

Although music magic was primarily fueled by the caster’s emotions, even in such a process, certain patterns were bound to emerge. These patterns would be useful guidelines for developing and attempting new music magic in the future.

"But the more pressing issue is the casting itself, isn’t it?"

"That’s quite accurate," Ifadur agreed.

Music magic’s main drawback was the spell’s weak power, making it challenging to cast.

"Would you happen to have any advice, Lord Gonadaltes?"

"There is a way."

Despite constantly grumbling about his dislike for music magic, Lord Gonadaltes didn’t ignore the request.

"Increase the mana concentration in the surroundings or imbue the words with mana. Both methods are challenging to execute, so any mage attempting this spell will have to try both approaches to achieve a result."

"Both methods? I hadn’t considered that!"

Ifadur was in awe, and Lord Gonadaltes continued with a proud tone.

"Yes, indeed. Start with group chanting. Alone, it would be difficult, but with multiple people, you can raise the surrounding mana density somewhat. Imbuing words with mana works similarly. There are cases of ordinary people, in a moment of intense emotion, squeezing out mana unconsciously. It’s a crude approach compared to directly imbuing words, but it can serve as a breakthrough."

Ifadur diligently took notes on the Skeleton Principal’s precious advice.

"Are the students already aware of the method of increasing mana density through group efforts?"

"I doubt it. It’s rare, and they wouldn’t have had the chance. Keep having Wardanaz demonstrate it to them. There will be some trial and error, but that’s inevitable."

"?"

Resting nearby, I-han looked up, startled by the sudden direction of the conversation.

"As for squeezing out mana..."

"That’s the same. Few students are accustomed to such rough methods. So, keep having Wardanaz sing. Just like with utterance magic, repeated observation and listening is the best approach. Even if he can’t infuse mana directly, he can at least channel it as close as possible."

"Thank you for your invaluable guidance!"

"Uh..."

In high spirits, Ifadur began singing outside the café. His voice was captivating enough to make passersby stop and listen.

In an instant, a crowd gathered, applauding enthusiastically.

Everyone was delighted by the music—everyone except I-han and Lord Gonadaltes.

"..."

"I told you, music magic wouldn’t be much help."

"...I’m thrilled..." 

Not wanting to please the Skeleton Principal, I-han tried to appear indifferent.

Lord Gonadaltes shook his head at the sight.

"Soon, you’ll probably end up studying every junk spell out there."

-Master.

Death Knight, his body fully wrapped to avoid frightening townspeople, approached.

-As you instructed, they’re on standby.

"Understood. Tell them to wait a bit longer. Any complaints?"

-Once I mentioned your name, they all kept silent.

"Good."

"...?"

Listening to Lord Gonadaltes and the Death Knight, I-han felt as if something was hidden within their exchange.

"Who are they?"

"They’re workers for the construction project. Why? Were you planning to help?"

"No, just curious."

Lord Gonadaltes replied calmly. Having dealt with countless students, he knew better than to hide or overreact.

The best disguise was simply behaving as usual.

But I-han was just as shrewd.

Regardless of what Lord Gonadaltes said, he decided not to take him at face value.

‘I’ll check for myself.’

Ifadur finished a song to resounding applause, and as I-han offered him a cool drink, he whispered to the bard.

"Mr. Ifadur, I have a favor to ask."

"What might it be?"

"The academy rules are strict, so I rarely get the chance to leave. But there’s a book I absolutely must buy..."

With a look of pitiful appeal, I-han’s attempt was convincing enough to make Ifadur feel sympathetic.

He already wanted to reward the student for helping with music magic; who knew there was such a story behind it!

"Of course, what would you have me do, Wardanaz?"

"Could you briefly distract the Principal? I’ll be quick."

The old turtle bard gave a knowing wink.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for enjoying this old man’s songs. For my next performance, I’d like to sing with someone special."

"Could it be one of us?"

"No way! It’d be an honor for my great-grandchildren!"

"You all know him—the great Lord Gonadaltes! It would be an honor if he sang with me."

"????"

Lord Gonadaltes, sitting with his eyes closed in boredom, looked up.

What was that?

"L-Lord Gonadaltes? The Archmage?"

"I heard that those who met his gaze turned to stone, and he kept them

 as decorations in his dungeon..."

"What nonsense! A master teaching Enroguard’s students would never do such a thing. That’s clearly a malicious rumor!"

The crowd murmured with excitement. Ifadur’s song was already an event, but now with an archmage? It was the kind of story that would make for endless party chatter.

"Lord Gonadaltes, if you’d sing just once, I’d remember it for the rest of my life!"

"Please, we beg of you!"

‘Should I just kill them all...’

Lord Gonadaltes thought of the donations he received from the city’s noble families, which helped calm his anger.

---

"Thank you, Sharkan."

With Sharkan’s help, I-han quietly followed the Death Knight.

The Death Knight gradually led him to a deserted area in the city. I-han cast an invisibility spell to avoid detection.

‘Are they really just workers?’

When the Death Knight entered a run-down warehouse, I-han wondered if he was overreacting.

Considering the Academy’s usual activity, it wasn’t unusual for merchants and workers to come and go constantly.

Thud!

The door closed, and I-han pressed close to the warehouse, listening intently.

- It’s been a long wait.

"Damn it, three days cooped up in here, and now you say that?! I was willing to let it go, but this is..."

Wham!

- Silence, you scum.

The Death Knight struck the mercenary who had spoken.

- You should be grateful we spared you criminals’ lives. Complain again, and I’ll turn you to stone and bury you deep underground where no one will find you.

The mercenaries fell silent in fear.

- There’s only one way out. Train and prepare. Be ready to face mages head-on.

"I don’t know what mages you’re targeting, but bring them here! I’ll kill them myself!"

- You’re far from ready. Train more. Only those who meet the standards will be allowed to leave.

"..."

I-han let out a long sigh.

He could now guess why those mercenaries had been brought here.