Chapter 109
It was true.
To console a vengeful spirit and make it act according to one’s will, Spirit Calming Art was necessary.
A secret technique only possible for a select few even among the Allied Forces.
“But I can do it.”
Chris’s hands, moving the bow, grew more hurried.
As if soothing the spirits, the tone deepened even more.
“I’ve seen enough spirit calming since I was a child, I can copy it all I want.”
The past.
The younger sibling who was the only one in the family to protect him was a spirit calmoner.
And not just any—she was the best of her generation.
“The core of spirit calming is consolation.”
Chris could see the vengeful spirits shedding tears from the melody spreading throughout the hall.
But this alone wasn’t enough.
He had to invoke the Spirit Calming Technique here.
A technique that could only be performed using light mana.
That was the problem.
To use Spirit Calming, he had to reveal his secret.
“I can’t let that happen.”
Not even to Count Khazar or Teren could he reveal this secret.
“If there had been no other way, I might have considered it.”
Count Khazar and Teren had even been willing to die in his place.
So if it had been the worst-case scenario, Chris might have revealed his secret.
But fortunately, Chris had another way.
“Teren, do what I told you!!”
“Understood!”
Teren cast a curse.
Toward Christian, incomprehensibly.
What was even more baffling was the nature of the curses.
The Curse of Grief.
The Curse of Self-Forgottenness.
One plunged the target into deep sorrow.
The other dulled the target’s emotions.
There was a reason Chris had Teren cast such incomprehensible curses on him.
“I have to convert these curses into Spirit Calming Technique.”
An absurd idea.
They were entirely different—how could such a thing be possible?
Regardless of type, curses were powers of darkness, while spirit calming was a power of light.
Even Chris couldn’t turn darkness into light.
Instead—
“I just need to make darkness act like light.”
An idea one would call insane.
But it was possible.
Because he was Chris.
Chris focused his consciousness on the hand gripping the strings.
The energy of the curse Teren had cast was carried to his fingertips.
As expected of a curse cast by a Resonant One—its energy was deep and impeccably refined.
Chris infused that curse energy directly into the instrument and began to play.
It was the method of Music Magic, where magic was manifested through performance.
No—on closer inspection, it was slightly different from that.
It wasn’t merely using sound as a medium to manifest magic; the meaning within Chris’s performance was merging with the curse itself.
In other words—
Like a bard who creates miraculous phenomena through music.
The grief carried within the curse mixed into the requiem that consoled the dead, soaking the vengeful spirits.
The sorrow of the spirits pierced the sky, and the mansion began to tremble.
“Wh-What is this?!”
Count Ribery sensed something was wrong and his face hardened, but he was already channeling a 7-star curse and had no strength to spare.
“Die!! Right now!!!”
He focused the curse even more fiercely on Count Khazar, but Count Khazar withstood it with superhuman endurance.
Considering the power of a 7-star death curse, it was an unbelievable struggle.
Count Khazar was unleashing a superhuman power driven by a father’s will to protect his son.
In that time, Chris moved on to the next stage.
The type of curse imbued into the violin changed.
The Curse of Self-Forgottenness.
A curse that made one forget sorrow was mixed into the performance and imbued into the spirits.
But this wasn’t the right way.
Because true comfort had to be given to the spirits.
Even in traditional Spirit Calming Techniques, there was no process of forgetting.
Yet Chris distorted the spirit calming process in his own way.
“In the end, the essence is consolation.”
The tone of Chris’s performance changed.
From sorrow to healing.
A warm melody that healed wounds mingled with the Curse of Forgetting.
The resentment and wounds of the vengeful spirits began to be healed through that forgetfulness.
[Aaaaahhhhhh!!]
The spirits screamed.
Had their resentment been released?
No, that couldn’t be.
At best, it was only a small measure of comfort.
But even that held great meaning.
Because no one had ever consoled them before.
The vengeful spirits looked at Chris with tears streaming down their faces.
As if to say thank you.
As if to say they’d grant him any request.
The spirit calming was a success!
Now, Chris could make one request of these spirits.
Because that was the principle of spirit calming.
What Chris wanted was obvious.
He twisted the corner of his lips as he pointed toward the pale-faced Count Ribery.
“Take revenge. On that bastard who turned you into this.”
“!!”
[Kyaaaaaaahhh!!!]
With the wailing of the spirits, something incredible happened.
The magic circles etched throughout the mansion began to crack.
Something had gone wrong with the human sacrifice ritual!
As a result—
Creak, screech.
The Orgel of Gluttony came to a halt.
“N-No… kuhk!!!”
Count Ribery coughed up a mouthful of blood.
The backlash from the collapse of the 7-star black magic, which had been sustained through the Orgel’s power, struck him hard.
And then—
Step.
A shadow fell over the kneeling Count Ribery.
Eyes cold enough to chill to the bone.
It was Christian.
“Y-You…!”
Count Ribery tried to gather strength, but his core trembled violently, and he only vomited more blood.
“W-Wait. I have something to say…!”
He hurriedly opened his mouth.
Thrust.
Christian’s sword pierced Count Ribery’s heart.
With wide eyes full of disbelief, Count Ribery trembled once before going limp.
A meaningless death, completely unworthy of someone once famed as the First Vassal of the Dark Demonic House.
Chris let out a quiet sigh and turned to Count Khazar.
“Are you alright, Father?”
“Yes, I’m fine. But just now, you…”
Count Khazar recalled what Christian had done earlier.
Using music to carry a curse and calm spirits.
Who would believe such a thing was possible?
And yet, with Christian, it somehow felt entirely plausible.
Christian had performed miracles even greater than this.
“He’s my son.”
Count Khazar once again indulged in a father’s prideful thought and gave a small cough.
Fortunately, it seemed there were no lasting aftereffects on his body.
“Well done. Thanks to you, this matter is resolved. With Count Ribery dealt with, that bastard Ashid must have taken a major blow.”
But Chris gave an unexpected answer.
“It’s not over yet.”
“What?”
“The reckoning for Ashid. We’re far from done.”
“!!”
Christian’s eyes burned with a chilling intensity.
‘There’s no way I’m ending it like this.’
Right.
Though he had brought down Count Ribery’s household—Ashid’s greatest backing—he had no intention of being satisfied with just that.
Ashid’s real suffering was only beginning.
‘I’ll drag him down to the bottom.’
Count Khazar gulped at Christian’s reaction.
He realized his son was once again planning something spine-chilling.
“How do you intend to proceed? Even if you investigate Count Ribery’s estate, it won’t be easy to find evidence linking Ashid to it.”
“That’s true. But it doesn’t matter. My goal isn’t to have Ashid punished by the law.”
An even more incomprehensible statement.
“Father, in this situation, what do you think is the absolute worst-case scenario Ashid might face?”
“…Being found guilty, isn’t it?”
“No. Even if it’s ruled that he performed human sacrifice, there’s a limit to how far the punishment will go. That’s because of the pardon rights held by direct bloodlines.”
If it were an ordinary magus who committed human sacrifice, the death penalty would be a given.
But direct heirs of the Twelve Prestigious Demonic Houses often receive reduced sentences due to their pardon privileges.
That pardon becomes meaningless only if the head of the household personally declares heavy punishment—but there was no chance Nordion would go that far.
A moderate level of punishment would most likely be decided.
“Of course, if he’s found guilty, Ashid will suffer significant damage, but I want something more than that.”
“Just what is it that you want?”
“Ashid’s downfall.”
“!!”
Downfall.
Count Khazar’s eyes widened.
“How? You’ve taken down the Ribery family, but the rest of Ashid’s faction isn’t easy to deal with.”
“I know.”
Christian grinned.
“There’s a way. Just watch.”
Like a villain.
“That bastard will lose everything and be reduced to misery.”
* * *
Meanwhile, at that moment—
“……”
“……”
Nordion and Merian remained silent.
‘What exactly did I just witness?’
Merian recalled Chris’s spirit-calming performance and shook her head.
She knew he was a genius—but was something like that even possible?
Exorcising spirits through a curse?
The way he turned a curse cast on himself into a tool—that mastery of magic application.
And his ability as a bard who could channel black magic through music.
And on top of that, his performance even soothed the hearts of vengeful spirits.
With all of this, he created the miracle of exorcism.
…It sounded simple, but it was as absurd as using destructive magic to perform healing arts.
‘What’s the head of house’s reaction?’
Merian cautiously glanced at Nordion.
Nordion stood silent, wearing the face of a boy.
His expression looked somewhat displeased.
But Merian had served Nordion at his side for a long time—she could see right through what he was actually thinking.
It wasn’t that he was disapproving.
Rather—
“Exorcism, huh. Carrying the bloodline of a Dark Mage and imitating the techniques of those Alliance bastards.”
He grumbled like that.
“…Still, it was a reasonably impressive response.”
His true feelings slipped out.
Even Nordion was impressed by what Chris had done.
Naturally.
What Chris accomplished today was that remarkable.
“But to face the power of a Dominant-class head-on and not retreat—that was reckless. He should have sacrificed his father if it meant securing the future.”
Nordion tried his best to sound cold and critical.
Maybe he expected ruthlessness from a magus—or maybe it was because Christian had come dangerously close to dying.
It felt more like the latter, and Merian held back a smile as she responded softly.
“Perhaps he was confident he could handle it.”
“……”
Nordion fell silent again.
Certainly, if it was that boy Christian, it was entirely possible.
“Hmph. Just like whose grandson he is, running wild like that. One day he’s going to get himself into serious trouble.”
Merian’s eyes widened.
It was the first time.
The first time Nordion had directly referred to Christian as “grandson.”
Since becoming head of the family, he had never used such personal words with any of his blood relatives.
Whether it slipped out unintentionally or was said deliberately—either way, it carried great meaning.
He had acknowledged Christian as a grandson in his own eyes.
“It’s been a while since I was out like this—my whole body aches. Let’s head back.”
“I’ll stop by Count Ribery’s estate for a bit before returning.”
“Hm?”
“As the Captain of the Black Shadow Knights, I need to verify if Count Ribery committed any additional wrongdoings.”
In truth, her goal was to help Christian.
When the trial came later, her support as the Commander of the Inquisition would be a huge asset to Christian.
However—
“Leave it be.”
“Head of house?”
“He’ll handle it well enough on his own. Just watch.”
The magic that had been showing the battle inside the mansion now followed Christian instead.
‘What’s he up to now?’