Though it wasn’t a skill he had aimed to acquire, after nearly a year at Enroguard, I-han had developed a knack for reading Lord Gonadaltes’s thoughts to some extent.

This time was no different.

Watching the mercenaries in the warehouse training to get out, he could somehow vividly imagine what might happen toward the end of the year. Lord Gonadaltes would likely make a big deal about an attack from outside, warn everyone about strangers, and then, almost miraculously, these mercenaries—strangely accustomed to fighting mages—would storm in.

“Could it be that even the anti-magic zealots and adventurers from last time were part of Lord Gonadaltes’s trap?”

If the Skeleton Principal had heard this, he would have been indignant, but honestly, it was almost karma. Like the boy who cried wolf, Lord Gonadaltes had lost the trust of others through his repeated mischief.

Peering through a crack in the warehouse wall, I-han observed the mercenaries. These men, with faces hardened by countless kills, were now cowed by the Death Knight, muttering among themselves about how to confront mages. The sight was, frankly, absurd.

“Well, I’ll remember their faces and warn the others to be cautious.”

Having finished this informal “final exam” with the mercenaries, I-han turned to leave. He needed to get back quickly to avoid arousing any suspicion.

---

*Clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap...*

"...?"

Returning to the café where he had left the others, I-han was taken aback.

The applause now erupting was far louder and more intense than when Ifadur had performed earlier.

"What’s going on? Did Enroguard fall or something?"

In I-han’s mind, only something as momentous as Enroguard’s fall could elicit this level of applause.

Maintaining his composure amid the noise, I-han grabbed a nearby elven merchant and asked.

"What happened here?"

The elf couldn’t respond, still caught in an overwhelming wave of emotion, sobbing quietly.

"Please, just one more song!"

"Just one more! One more!"

"It’s about time we leave. And where is Wardanaz, anyway?"

At Lord Gonadaltes’s question, I-han raised his hand.

"Here."

"And why were you over there?"

"The crowd pushed me back?"

"They pushed you? Are you attending Enroguard or grazing in some peaceful meadow?"

With a chiding tone, Lord Gonadaltes gestured, causing those overwhelmed by the song to be gently but firmly moved aside by an invisible force.

"Let’s go. I’m performing all sorts of nonsense magic just to indulge these obstinate students."

"Ah, it was truly moving."

I-han, sensing the mood, played along. Though he hadn’t heard the Skeleton Principal’s song, the reactions around him suggested it was quite moving.

Ifadur wholeheartedly agreed, his eyes damp with emotion.

"Indeed…! It’s songs like these that remind me why I’m alive as an old bard."

‘What exactly did he sing?’

I-han couldn’t help but wonder if Lord Gonadaltes had threatened everyone, including the Death Knights, into being “moved.”

"Enough. It’s not exactly a compliment I enjoy."

"How did you come to learn such a magnificent song?"

"I learned it long ago, back when I was a prince, to make the people in the palace happy. It’s been ages since then."

Ifadur was visibly moved by this poignant story.

I-han, however, was more taken aback.

‘That’s hard to picture.’

Hearing about the Skeleton Principal’s childhood was unsettling, like being told that Professor Voladi had been a kind and gentle child—it just didn’t fit.

"Let’s go. There’s a place we need to visit before the shops close."

"Huh? Where?"

"We need an instrument if we’re to practice music magic."

The central district of Granden City was a quiet area frequented by city nobles and the wealthy. One of the stately shops there was <The Impalennin Trio>.

"Ah, I’ve heard of it. Renowned for exceptional instrument craftsmanship."

"Likely so. They had good skills when I called on them for artifact work in the past."

‘Why is it called the Trio?’

Puzzled, I-han followed them into the shop.

The shop resembled a museum of instruments.

Instruments familiar to I-han, along with many others of unique and unusual shapes, were displayed throughout the store.

Somewhere in the background, the soft strumming of a seven-stringed instrument played briefly before falling silent.

Moments later, the shopkeeper, Impalennin, appeared.

‘Ah.’

I-han instantly understood why the shop was named the Trio. Impalennin was an Asura, with three heads and six arms.

"M-My… my heavens! To have such esteemed guests in my humble shop!"

"Calm down. Keep your arms steady."

Lord Gonadaltes quickly advised Impalennin, fearing that his excited arm gestures might accidentally topple some of the instruments.

He couldn’t bear to see this beautifully crafted store marred by broken instrument fragments.

"Is there something I can assist you with? Perhaps help with an artifact? Though I… I’m… not..."

"We’re not here for artifacts."

Relief flooded Impalennin’s face at Lord Gonadaltes’s words.

"Thank goodness! I doubted my ability to meet that mage’s expectations..."

"..."

Somehow, I-han felt he understood who that troublesome mage might be and glanced at Lord Gonadaltes.

Lord Gonadaltes, seemingly genuinely remorseful, sighed.

"I apologize. You won’t have to deal with that... person anymore. If we ever need your help in the future, I’ll ensure some distance."

"Oh no, it’s an honor to be entrusted with such tasks, though I may lack the skill."

"We’re here to buy an instrument today. This student here wants to play. By the way, can you play any instruments?"

Lord Gonadaltes asked, not expecting much.

Naturally, he planned to choose something simple, like a pan flute or kalimba.

"I can play the violin."

"The violin?"

Surprised by I-han’s answer, Lord Gonadaltes raised an eyebrow.

While music was part of noble education, it usually extended only to listening, not actual performance. To reach a decent level of skill required hard work that many aristocrats were unwilling to put in.

The fact that a young man from the Wardanaz family could play the violin was unexpected.

"The Wardanaz family doesn’t usually hold concerts, do they? You must truly love music."

"No..."

Without thinking, I-han had mentioned the instrument, and now he suddenly seemed like a music enthusiast.

"I don’t really like music that much."

"Of course, of course."

"..."

Lord Gonadaltes dismissed I-han’s comment and resumed discussing the instruments with Ifadur.

I-han glared at him.

"How about this one?"

"The wood is too harsh. An instrument like this would diminish the player’s reputation."

"You’re right. And this one’s backplate is too unique—it might encourage bad habits despite its resonance."

"Brilliant observation. Oh, this one’s quite good, made from a quietwood tree."

"Quietwood? It seems too elemental. We’ll put it aside for now. A quick play should tell us more."

Excited, Impalennin approached as well.

"I think this one would suit the young student. I waited an entire month in the cold of the Shattered Glass Mountains to find this bow."

Watching the trio excitedly debate, I-han grew curious and asked.

"Principal, who’s paying for the instrument? Surely not me...?"

"Ridiculous. Saying such things could lead to misunderstandings."

Since there were listening ears nearby, Lord Gonadaltes responded even more swiftly than usual.

"I’ll pay for it. It’s a necessary item for magical research."

"Oh? Are you sure?"

"Yes. Though I despise parting with my gold, it can’t be helped. Remember, skimping on magical research will only lead to greater expenses later."

‘No wonder imperial officials hate Enroguard.’

Lord Gonadaltes had a point.

If they cut corners by using cheap materials or equipment, the results could be flawed.

To avoid this, it was best to prepare everything thoroughly from the start.

Of course, this logic didn’t sit well with imperial budget officials.

No matter how rationally they tried to think, receiving a report like "I burned half a ton of pure gold for magical research, but it’s still unfinished—could you increase funding?" was enough to make them see stars.

"Thank you. I’ll make good use of it."

"Make sure you don’t sell it off somewhere."

"....."

"Why aren’t you answering right away?"

"I was just worried someone might steal it."

"Don’t worry. I’ll cast a spell on it. If someone takes it, I’ll hunt them down and return it."

‘Tch.’

Internally, I-han clicked his tongue at the Skeleton Principal’s thoroughness.

It seemed that no excuse would make selling it a possibility.

"We should choose from these three."

"I agree."

After an extended discussion, they narrowed it down to three options.

One was crafted from fully grown octavewood, a stable violin made by Impalennin, combining the best features of the Empire’s most famous violins.

Another was made from young quietwood. The structure of the body and fingerboard was experimental, making it less stable but offering a unique character that could grow alongside a young musician.

The last one was not crafted by Impalennin

 but acquired. Its previous owners had all met tragic fates—one died from a love affair, another in a stage accident, and yet another in a fire. The instrument had a history soaked in misfortune.

"The first one seems the safest choice..."

"I agree. Given the student’s inexperience..."

I-han was about to choose the first option, but Lord Gonadaltes made a decisive choice.

"The third one will do."

"And why, exactly?"

Lord Gonadaltes looked at him with exasperation.

"Can’t you feel the mana in it? It’s rare for an object to hold such power."

"We came for an instrument, not a mana-charged object."

Of course, I-han could sense the mana in the third violin.

It was violently sinister and ominous.

Given the tragic fates of its previous owners, anything other than turbulent energy would have been surprising.

"For music magic, you should obviously choose something with high mana."

"But it’s a cursed object."

"Look at your arm."

"...?"

Following Lord Gonadaltes’s gaze, I-han glanced at his arm, where several cursed artifacts he habitually wore jingled.

"You’re one to talk, draping yourself in cursed artifacts... We’ll go with this one."

"Are you sure? This isn’t meant for sale..."

"Then it’ll be cheaper!"

---

By the time they completed their errands, the weekend was nearly over.

Sighing, I-han passed through Enroguard’s gates in a carriage.

To have spent his golden weekend this way left him with a lingering bitterness.

"Ah."

Noticing something ahead, Lord Gonadaltes spoke up, prompting I-han to look as well.

There, waiting with a blank expression, was Professor Voladi.

"Why is the professor waiting like that?"

"Ah… Damn. I forgot. Professor Bagrek had something to teach you this weekend."

"Why the weekend?"

"Because your weekdays were probably packed with lessons from other professors."

"...?"

I-han couldn’t shake the strange feeling from this conversation.

The professors’ communication was too seamless.

What was going on?

"Professor Bagrek! Apologies for disrupting your schedule, but there was a reason."

Lord Gonadaltes, stepping down from the carriage, approached Professor Voladi. Busy helping Ifadur down, I-han froze at the words that followed.

"That boy here begged me to go out, saying he had a keen interest in music magic. I couldn’t refuse. Now, I’ll take my leave."

Lord Gonadaltes returned to his skeletal form and promptly vanished.

Left staring into Professor Voladi’s expressionless gaze, I-han reflexively glanced at Ifadur.

‘Mm. I don’t think I can shift the blame here.’

Unfortunately, I-han didn’t have the magic to pull off an escape like that.