*–It wouldn’t be easy to get along with a species as tricky as the Sirens.*

While giants weren’t exactly a species that found it easy to befriend others, that was primarily due to their physical nature. If one could withstand that physicality, there were no more gentle beings than giants.

However, Sirens were notorious for their prickly nature.

Among the many species that roamed the vast natural landscape of Einroguard, only a handful maintained good relations with the Sirens. This alone was enough to show how difficult they were.

*–Well, you did befriend the giants.*

The boy standing before him was one of those rare people who had the ability to form bonds even with giants.

Occasionally, there were wizards like this.

Instead of subjugating nature with cold intelligence and powerful magic, they befriended it with warm hearts and kind spirits.

These wizards were often beloved by the essence of nature itself, the spirits.

*–You must be loved by the spirits too, right?*

“Um, well, in a way, yes,” I-han replied, slipping one hand into his sleeve to tuck the sleepy baby basilisk further in. The basilisk made a hissing noise of protest.

*–So you’re friendly with the Sirens too? That’s great. Go ahead and ask them for a favor. Tell them the giants are going to pass through and ask for help to avoid any unnecessary conflicts.*

“Yes, understood,” I-han said confidently.

His conscience pricked him a bit when it came to spirits, but not with the Sirens.

He really was friendly with them.

Though their first encounter had started with a misunderstanding—he had mistaken them for aquatic creatures he needed to capture for Professor Lightningstep’s test—things had turned out fine after that. They had even worked together to fend off the undead and endured the Skull Principal’s stormy outing together.

*‘That counts as being friends.’*

Unlike with the spirits, he truly was on good terms with the Sirens.

Reassured, I-han headed down to the passage.

---

“Is anyone there?”

*–♪↗♪↗↗!*

*–♬♩↗↗↗!*

The Sirens, who had been singing atop the cool stone floor of the underground passage, screamed and dove into the water the moment they saw I-han.

Splash!

Splash!!

“Wait! You’ve got the wrong person! I’m not suspicious. I’m that first-year student from before!” I-han shouted, thinking they might have mistaken him for someone else.

“I’m the wizard who helped you fight off the undead last time!”

The Sirens flapped their fins and swam quickly to deeper waters, clearly intent on getting as far away as possible.

“You’ve got the wrong person, I tell you! I’m the wizard who worked with you on that stormy day during the principal’s outing! Don’t you remember? When I grabbed you by the neck during Professor Lightningstep’s test...”

I-han paused mid-sentence.

That wasn’t a memory worth bringing up.

“Don’t you remember me?”

Silence.

“Ah. Maybe the Siren I met isn’t here? If so, please pass the message along.”

Silence.

None of the Sirens surfaced or responded, maintaining their silence underwater.

As I-han kept calling out, he realized just how cautious the Sirens were.

“Just pass the message, please.”

Silence.

“If you don’t pass the message now, I’ll fill this passage with lightning.”

I-han resorted to a show of power.

As the rune of Perkuntula glowed with sparks on the back of his hand, the Sirens shivered at its presence.

They could sense, as beings related to spirits, just how formidable the spirit bound to this wizard was.

Of course, I-han had no intention of actually summoning Perkuntula.

*‘If a Siren that knows me comes, this misunderstanding will clear up.’*

Even if these Sirens didn’t know who he was, one who did would surely come and resolve the situation...

Whoosh!

“!”

Not long after he spoke, a Siren poked its head out of the water.

It had appeared so quickly that I-han wondered if it hadn’t just been hiding in the water nearby instead of coming from afar.

It was indeed the familiar Siren he’d met before. I-han greeted it warmly.

“Nice to see you. How have you been?”

*–......*

“I’m asking how you’ve been.”

*–......*

“You don’t need to respond verbally. Just nod if you understand.”

Still, the Siren didn’t answer.

It simply glared at I-han with a look of deep dissatisfaction.

*‘Am I mistaken?’*

I-han wondered if he had the wrong Siren.

Perhaps the one before him was not the same Siren he had met before. Maybe he had only thought it looked familiar...

“I asked for the Siren I know to come. If you keep acting uncooperatively, I’ll have to resort to other measures. Stop playing games and relay the message!”

I-han aimed his staff as a warning.

The Siren slowly pointed to itself.

“You?”

It nodded.

“Then why didn’t you answer?”

The Siren shrugged.

I-han didn’t understand but decided to let it go.

There were more pressing matters.

“Siren, hold on. What should I call you? Last time, I was too distracted to ask for your name.”

The Siren crossed its arms and stared at I-han with disdain.

It was the kind of disdain that suggested humans were incapable of pronouncing a Siren’s name.

“Ah, so your name is difficult to pronounce, then.”

Since the Siren didn’t respond, I-han took it upon himself to come up with an answer.

Some rare or unique species within the Empire had their own languages and communication methods.

Sirens, for instance, communicated through song rather than typical Empire speech.

Differences between species had to be respected.

“In that case, would it be okay if I gave you a nickname in human terms? So I can call you something. Hmm. How about Gainan?”

The Siren grimaced and hastily pulled out a stone tablet, scribbling on it with shaky handwriting: *Parthenope*.

“Parthenope. Got it. Anyway, Parthenope, I think we’ve become quite close, so I’d like to ask you for a favor.”

*–??????????????*

Parthenope gaped at I-han in disbelief.

One outrageous statement could be countered, but hearing a series of them left her at a loss for words.

“I need to bring the giants through the passage, and I was hoping you could help keep other creatures or species from interfering. If a fight breaks out, the passage could collapse.”

The Siren dropped her tablet in shock.

I-han kindly picked it up and handed it back.

“Did you hear me?”

Parthenope hesitated, wanting to write *No* as quickly as possible.

But then she wondered.

Would this wizard just back down if she refused?

*–......*

Absolutely not.

If uncontrolled giants came stampeding through the passage...

The image of the tunnel collapsing and shattering flashed vividly in Parthenope’s mind.

*I’ll help!!!*

“Thank you.”

I-han was pleased with Parthenope’s response.

The Siren hadn’t disappointed him, unlike the spirits.

---

*–Ugh. It’s a merman.*

*–It’s not a merman; it’s a type of siren. Ikurusha said so.*

*–What’s the difference?*

*–Uh...*

*–Too complicated. Let’s just call it a fish.*

The giants trudged through the submerged parts of the underground passage.

The water was deep, but shallow enough for the giants to wade through.

The Sirens stationed themselves along the web-like side paths of the tunnel, prepared to block any unwelcome intruders.

*–♬♩♩♩♩...*

*–♩♪♪...*

As the mournful song of the Sirens filled the passage, the giants cringed and covered their ears.

*–Ugh! I hate it!*

*–These fish songs are disgusting!*

*‘Do they sense it instinctively?’*

I-han found the giants’ reactions intriguing.

The giants weren’t as impervious as I-han, but they were known for their resistance. That resistance must be influencing their response to the Sirens’ song.

Of course, the Sirens were equally displeased.

Descendants of spirits who prided themselves on their songs, they couldn’t possibly take kindly to giants covering their ears and grumbling about how disgusting their music was.

The Sirens glared at the giants with contempt.

“Is there a way to block out the song?” I-han asked.

Parthenope, who was pulling I-han’s small boat from the front, gave him a helpful suggestion.

She mimed choking herself with both hands.

Seeing this, I-han regretted asking.

*‘They really don’t like the giants.’*

Unlike I-han, the Sirens had a genuine dislike for giants, and this wasn’t something I-han could change.

Intervening could only make the Sirens resent him as well.

“Um... is it okay if I sing?” I-han asked.

*–???*

Parthenope stared at him in shock.

She couldn’t fathom what this wizard was thinking.

Was he going to drink a transformation potion and disguise himself among the Sirens? She feared as much.

Wizards were capable of anything, after all.

Catching the meaning behind her gaze,

 I-han explained.

“It’s not just any song.”

He had spent time studying the fundamentals of musical magic with Minstrel Ifadur and the Skull Principal.

It wasn’t fully developed enough to be called magic, but there were a few songs he could sing that had an effect.

“I thought since it has some magic in it, it might counter the Sirens’ song a bit.”

Parthenope didn’t stop him. She tilted her head as if to say, *Go ahead if you want.*

Taking that as encouragement, I-han cleared his throat and began to sing.

“Once upon a time, there was an orc with a hoe. The orc’s field was flooded by a torrential rain. To the field, to the field...”

*–?!*

Parthenope was stunned.

Amazingly, the young wizard’s song was pushing back the Sirens’ song!

The influence of the Sirens’ song on the giants diminished, fading into a distant echo.

Parthenope blinked and listened again, but the outcome didn’t change.

*–Wizard! Wizard!*

“Is it working?”

*–The fish song was better!*

*–The lyrics are awful!*

“What...?”

I-han was baffled by the giants’ reaction.

It was surprising enough that the song worked, but to have them complain about the lyrics despite its effectiveness?

Why?

“Don’t you think the lyrics are fine? Maybe it’s because you don’t know what the song is about. It’s a legendary song about an orc farmer who plowed his field despite natural disasters, even making demons give up. It’s a moral tale...”

*–We hate work songs!*

*–If you keep singing that, we’re not walking anymore!*

The giants stopped in their tracks and pouted.

I-han felt wronged.

*‘It’s a good song.’*

But knowing the song worked, he just needed to change the lyrics. I-han tried a few more memorable songs.

A song about a dwarf stonemason who kept working despite losing his fingers (the giants booed), a song about a librarian who had so many books that he ended up sleeping on them (only one giant liked that one)...

“And the knight goes forth, shot by an arrow, struck by a flail, stabbed by a sword, pierced by a spear...”

*–This song is great!*

*–This is what we wanted! The wizard is the best!*

*–The knight dies! The knight dies!*

*–The knight gets trampled! The knight gets chased by sheep and dies!*

“......”

The giants were so pleased that they changed the lyrics themselves, singing joyfully.

Their loud voices, off-key and out of rhythm, echoed down the tunnel. The Sirens covering the side paths pressed their ears and shut their eyes tight.

They looked as though they wanted to end their own lives to escape the agony.

“...It would have been different with another song.”

I-han muttered an excuse to Parthenope.

If the giants hadn’t liked such strange songs, perhaps the Sirens would have enjoyed the orc farmer’s song.