Chapter 26: Use the magic of tingga tingga

“You want me to make a wig?”

“Don’t stare at the top of my head. It’s not my wig.”

Yaltarion, holding Emil’s hair, replied with a serious expression.

The place was a church.

A religious facility where the sound of the choir could be heard.

The cardinal of the Holy See, dispatched to the Holy Empire, understood.

“Nonsense! I understand completely. At our age, what is there to be ashamed of? You’ve finally become a bald buddy too!”

“I said it’s not mine.”

“There’s someone who orders a wig in the same color as their own hair and makes an unconvincing excuse? Aaargh!! Why did you hit me!”

Why do you think?

His friend, who had taken a hit, became as quiet as a winter catfish.

It was the price for forgetting a fact that should not have been forgotten.

From whom do you think Emil inherited her temper?

Yaltarion was Emil’s grandfather.

He had mellowed with age, but his bloodline and personality hadn’t gone anywhere.

“This is a wig for a child who will be in a concert tomorrow. She’s also my granddaughter’s most cherished friend.”

“I get it! I get it! Lower your fist, your fist!”

An explosive, fiery reaction like calcium carbide!

The cardinal reacted immediately.

Then again, alchemy is inseparable from religion.

And it’s also inseparable from painting.

Paint is a byproduct of chemistry.

In Luntraval, it’s a specialized field of alchemy.

This was why Yaltarion, despite being an Archmage, had a rather deep friendship with the cardinal.

“What a painter’s temper…. I’ll be done in a jiffy, so just wait a bit.”

Having said his piece, Yaltarion looked around the church.

While listening to the choir sing.

“My apologies. Your choir seems to be busy with practice for tomorrow as well.”

It’s the Holy Empress’s birthday.

The court orchestra isn’t the only group holding a concert.

The country’s name itself is the Holy Empire.

It was only natural that the Holy See’s choir would attend.

“You’re right, but is that something to say after punching the conductor in the chest?”

“The baton is held by hand, so it was fine!”

“This hand can also be used to beat a wretched friend.”

“I didn’t know that. I have no experience with fisticuffs.”

“Aha, then I suppose the Lord himself came down and punched me in the chest.”

The cardinal grumbled and performed his divine art.

Emil’s hair began to float like thread.

A product of pure faith, different from magic.

It was the skill of handling divine power.

“This will be the last day you treat me so poorly. Tomorrow, you will regret not stuffing gold coins into my embrace instead of your fist.”

“What a variety of ways to ask for a donation.”

“Indeed. Donations are never enough, no matter how much you receive.”

The pride his bragging friend couldn’t hide.

Yaltarion was bewildered.

“You seem quite confident. Did you find some talent?”

“Hmph! You have deaf ears. Don’t just live with your eyes open, open your ears too! Can’t you hear this singing?”

“What?”

He frowned and strained his ears.

The music, which had been mere background noise, pierced his ears.

“The holy one descends and opens the light.”

“Casting away blindness, filling the heart-“

A hymn sung only with voices, without instruments.

Traditional and bland.

It couldn’t be helped.

The Holy See of Luntraval is conservative.

Church boys forming a band and singing hymns?

That’s a modern concept.

The church of today scorns even classical orchestras, saying, ‘Hmph,,, rootless things,,,!’

Tradition is accompanied by inconvenience and boredom.

Even the 21st-century White House is famous for its low ratings from its residents.

It made sense that the Empress would form her own court orchestra.

But.

“…It’s quite pleasant to listen to.”

This choir’s singing was sweet.

To the point that even Yaltarion, who was indifferent to music, noticed.

“You asked if I found talent? That’s right. It’s that child over there.”

The cardinal grinned and pointed to a woman.

A nun singing with her hands clasped piously.

She looked to be in her early twenties.

Her beauty was such that one could tell at a glance she would soon become a saint, as she clearly felt the love of many gods.

“Her name is Ersenne. She had already learned bardic magic when I met her.”

“The songs of the bards? Is that true!”

“It’s true. You can tell by listening, can’t you? The divine power in Ersenne’s song.”

Yaltarion was quite surprised.

About 30% as surprised as when he saw Chloe.

Even this level of surprise was a once-in-a-decade occurrence.

Bard.

Wanderers who cast magic through poetry and song.

Because they were the origin of all mages (Wizards).

“The Mage Tower says the oldest magic is song, and the first magic circle drawn was a mural, right?”

“Hmm…. It’s a historical fact that goes beyond a hypothesis.”

Yaltarion answered seriously.

Because he was not unaware of how frustrated mages were when they saw bards.

– You can cast magic just by singing a little? Why?!

– Does this make sense? We spend 10, 20 years memorizing books and it’s still a toss-up!!

Some people, you know?

After slaving away as an apprentice for a long time, if they’re thrown a few lines of magic, they snatch it up greedily.

But those punks go around playing and having fun!

They’ve completely given up on studying!

And they’re beloved by women from the countryside to the city!

But they’re even better at magic than me?

Is this right?

Is this really right?

– It worked for me?

– Kuaaaaaaaaaaaaaak!!

It was a theory they had endured and acknowledged through frustration and injustice.

How could it not be accurate?

‘Words have power.’

This power is both mana and divine power.

A spell imbued with mana is magic.

A prayer imbued with divine power becomes divine art.

And this process is called kotodama-ka (the spiritual power of words).

In layman’s terms, it was called a spell.

‘Kotodama-ka is the foundation and core of magic and divine art.’

And those who systematized this kotodama-ka in the form of song.

The elven bards.

The origin of human magic was a term that referred to them.

“That’s right! A song is a spell with a melody, and a hymn is a prayer offered to the gods.”

The cardinal beamed at Ersenne.

He savored the divine power in her song.

“That’s why our choir doesn’t use instruments. Only the human voice can sing a hymn imbued with divine power!”

“Ahem! If only instruments could also be imbued with mana during a performance…”

“Hmph, what nonsense is this man spouting.”

The cardinal clicked his tongue, telling him not to be a wet blanket.

What is the common image of a bard right now?

A storyteller with flowery words.

A wanderer who sings while strumming a harp.

Behold!

Even for the originators of magic, ‘words’ are the most important element.

Because even they can only imbue language with mana.

That was why.

Yaltarion’s words were not worth a second thought.

“Imbuing a performance with mana without lyrics? Ha! That’s the realm of spirit magic! Stop with the ridiculous nitpicking.”

“Kuhm….”

Yaltarion didn’t bother to open his mouth.

It was obvious he would lose if he got into an argument.

Learning bardic magic was like that.

The pinnacle of kotodama-ka, second only to spirit magic.

The limit of ‘appealing music’ that humanity possessed.

“Here, the wig is finished. You said the child who receives this will also be at the concert tomorrow?”

“Ahem, that’s right.”

“Let’s see. It seems that child has learned an instrument, am I right? Judging by your expression, I am.”

In short, Ersenne’s rival.

One could even say she was a wildflower to accentuate the brilliance of the saint candidate, Ersenne.

Handing over the wig, the cardinal smiled triumphantly.

“Then I’ll see you then. At the stage that will be our choir’s solo performance! Gegegegege!”

“…A clergyman shouldn’t laugh like that.”

“Gegegegege…!”

Though he was frustrated,

Yaltarion had no grounds to deny his wretched friend’s prediction.

A song capable of kotodama-ka.

An instrumental performance that is not.

There was an overwhelming difference in class between them.

Will Chloe be greatly disappointed tomorrow?

Yaltarion was worried.

But then.

“…Hmm?”

Huh.

That’s not so bad either?

‘If she loses at the concert, wouldn’t Chloe regain interest in her true talent?’

Bardic magic?

That’s something all experienced bards can do.

Being able to do it at 20 makes you a genius, that’s true.

But this is a genius in the sense of being precocious.

On the other hand, what about Chloe’s artistic talent?

‘One of a kind.’

A rarity incomparable to precociousness.

The only one in the world.

The ultimate (AI) art permitted only to Chloe.

In a one-on-one comparison, it would be Chloe’s overwhelming victory, without a doubt.

‘If I can make Chloe realize this fact…?’

I won’t go so far as to tell her to give up music,

but she might be willing to produce a new piece or two once in a while.

“…My old friend!”

“Wh-what! Why are you giving me the creeps all of a sudden!”

Yaltarion, grabbing his friend’s shoulder, also beamed.

He selflessly blessed his friend’s future.

“Good luck with the concert! I’ll be cheering for you without any selfish intentions!”

“Wh-what?”

“Gegegege! Gegegegege…!”

Did this guy eat something bad?

The cardinal averted his eyes in anxiety.

It was understandable.

‘Could it be… is she really a child who can perform kotodama-ka with her playing?’

Who is this man standing before me?

The Archmage Yaltarion.

No, the great artist Yaltarion.

An Archmage who has never read a single line of a magic book in his life.

The living legend of Luntraval.

Perhaps he has once again pioneered a new realm of kotodama-ka!

‘N-no, it can’t be. It can’t be.’

How could something like that even be possible?

It’s not like humans are wind spirits.

No, it would be difficult even for a wind spirit.

Because spirits are almost incapable of creative activities.

This is a limitation of the spirit race itself.

Just as humans cannot use spirit magic.

Besides, if she’s Emil’s friend, she’s at most in her mid-teens!

‘So there’s no way our Ersenne will lose! Of course!’

The cardinal soon regained his firm confidence.

It was a perfectly logical conclusion.

“…I feel like my common sense is being denied.”

After practicing a trio for a while.

Titus, who had put away his instrument, realized it keenly.

That Chloe’s talent was more than enough to overwhelm common sense.

“This kid is the real deal, Music Director.”

“Right? You admit it too?”

How could he not admit it?

When they played together, he couldn’t deny reality.

Groomloc also burst out laughing.

“Hahaha! You said you were better with instruments than painting, but to this extent? I was so surprised!”

“I didn’t know I was this good either.”

“?”

The orc who was supposed to be her companion was dumbfounded by the strange answer.

Lindaril felt much the same.

Chloe’s musical prowess.

That ability was not just simple talent.

Lindaril didn’t know it, but if you remove one variable, that prowess was largely due to Chloe’s musical experience.

And.

It was that very variable that was incomprehensible.

‘Did she just… imbue her performance with mana?’

• Gulp.

Lindaril swallowed as if she were nervous.

Imbuing a performance with mana without a spell.

The kotodama-ka of a performance.

Uh… was that possible?

What’s the difference between that and moving a sword without touching it?

No, isn’t it more like writing a novel without letters?

“Um, excuse me, Chloe? I have a question.”

“Yes. Please ask.”

She tilted her head charmingly.

Lindaril asked, half in doubt.

“By any chance, can you use spirit magic?”

“No?”

“Ah, as I thought, right?”

Aha!

It was my misunderstanding!

A friend of nature and an explorer of spirit magic, the fairy race.

The elf Lindaril decided to believe her own common sense.

But, contrary to that.

‘Spirit magic.’

Chloe herself was lost in thought at that question.

Because she remembered a message Clicker had shown her before.

The magic book written by the Dragonborn Nexor.

A hidden piece from the original story.

The message she saw when she ‘clicked’ and copied it.

‘…I think Clicker’s damn status window might have been right for once.’

What variables could have increased her talent?

When she asked herself, that was all that came to mind.

[That’s right. The lore was that learning spirit magic makes your soul grow, increasing your talent! 😊]

If there was such a setting, I wish you would have told me beforehand!

Chloe clicked her tongue.

The now hazy and unclear original story lore.

Because she remembered there was a similar setting among them.

A mention of spirit magic?

No way.

The mention of spirit magic in the original story was at most one line.

But.

‘Didn’t the protagonist’s magic learning ability also increase with something about the expansion of the soul?’

A bloodline ability that normally has no way to blossom.

A power that the original protagonist himself didn’t know about.

The catalyst that awakened that bloodline power was the evolution of the soul caused by Nexor’s magic book.

‘It must be this. I’m still half in doubt, though.’

Spirit magic and bloodline.

The causes are completely different, but the result they triggered is the same.

The result of the expansion of the soul.

But who would have known?

That this growth would also apply to talents other than magic.

Chloe let out a long sigh inwardly.

If there is such a difference in the outcome depending on whether you have talent or not, is there any meaning to the efforts of an ordinary person?

If Chloe, who was ordinary, could become a genius just by changing her body,

what happens to a genius who is reincarnated as a dunce?

If trapped in the body of a dunce, does a genius also lose their talent?

Then is artistic inspiration bound to the body?

If talent is simply determined by physical properties,

what is the difference between an artist who was not born a genius due to the randomness of genetics and a one-armed person who dreams of becoming a basketball player?

…was not the question.

‘No, so why can’t I use magic?’

Talent?

I don’t care about that.

How many people in the world started music because they were geniuses?

For many musicians, music is just a hobby.

It’s just divided into a hobby that makes money and a hobby that you just enjoy.

And you do a hobby because you like it.

If you can’t become a pro gamer, are you going to quit games and just work?

Chloe had failed to debut even in her past life.

She was more concerned about other things than music, which she would continue to do whether she had talent or not.

‘No, the protagonist became a magic genius, so why didn’t I?’

No matter how different our bloodlines are.

That guy is flying around saying ‘Fus Ro Dah’, so why am I still a one-trick pony even after awakening my potential?

Ah.

‘I think I got some kind of music magic earlier.’

Feeling like a nagging tooth had been pulled, she dashed to the veranda.

Facing the cold wind, Chloe muttered to herself.

It was her third attempt at casting magic.

“Spring breeze fluttering~.”

A song she sang as it came to mind.

Barely a second had passed since she hummed it in a sweet voice.

• Fwoosh!

A flame bloomed in front of Chloe, who was resting her chin on her hand.

It was an infuriatingly simple manifestation of mana.

“…It works.”

[Perfect! It’s bardic magic! 🌈]

I’ve been playing instruments for 10 years, I’m qualified to be a bard.

Call me a bardician.

‘Wow, the hidden piece is finally paying off.’

It wasn’t spirit magic in the end, but what does it matter.

I should farm whatever I can.

All the hidden pieces I remember.

As long as it doesn’t cause major damage to the original story.

Chloe decided so and extinguished the gentle light in her hand.

“…Yes! The moon is bright tonight!”

Lindaril decided to pretend she hadn’t seen the baby musician who had caught up with the originators of magic with a single song.

It was a wise way of handling the situation.

Because, that way, she could have expectations.

“We won, right?”

“We won.”

For tomorrow’s concert.

For their stage that would decorate the grand finale of the birth festival.

The night passed, and it was the day of the birth festival.

The rehearsal stage for the concert celebrating the Empress’s birthday.

“Ersenne! Do your best!”

“Of course! Just believe in me!”

The saint candidate, Ersenne.

No.

The ancient demon Kelazak, who had stolen Ersenne’s body, his eyes glittered with interest.

‘Let’s have a look. To see if there is a genius in this era worthy of being my vessel.’

For even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.

Beware of false prophets.

They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravenous wolves.

This was the modus operandi of high-ranking demons, repeatedly warned against even in the scriptures of the gods.

One could say it was a refined hobby for a thousand-year-old demon.

And so, the great demon, who had returned after a thousand years, set foot on the land protected by the blessings of the gods.

In search of the god-given talent he could not obtain a thousand years ago,

a body equal to that of the first emperor of Fleurden.

And.

“I’m Chloe A. Turing! It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

“?”

In 30 seconds, he found that talent.

A soul far more dazzling than that of the first emperor, Flavius.

“?????”

The soul-devourer Kelazak.

For the first time, he doubted his own wisdom and insight.