Chapter 9: His Song of Death

The “Bard Test” was more than an exam, it seemed like a public execution, and Raziel had the noose around his neck.

During the previous days, he didn’t practice pretty melodies. While the other novices rehearsed ballads about heroes and maidens, Raziel locked himself in the latrines or in the dark corners of the garden, strumming chords that made ears bleed.

The skill [Trauma Acoustics] was a curse disguised as a blessing.

Every time he hit the right note, that mathematical dissonance he learned in the forbidden book, the System charged him a toll.

[Mental Stability: -1%][Mental Stability: -2%]

His head throbbed as if someone was hammering rusty nails into his brain, but the music… the music worked. It didn’t have “soul”, like the teachers said. It had teeth.

Lara tried to help him before the test, her kindness shining almost as much as her talent.

“You look pale, Raziel,” she said, placing a worried hand on his shoulder. Her touch was warm, a brutal contrast to the cold Raziel felt inside. “Don’t force yourself so much, you know the Goddess values intention, not perfection. Just… let yourself go.”

Raziel nodded, thanking the gesture, but inside he laughed bitterly.

’If I let myself go, Lara, everyone in this room will end up crying blood.’

The moment arrived. The Grand Hall of Echoes was full.

Lucian Valerius Nyxian, of course, was the main character of the show. The damn noble went up to the stage with that arrogance that only someone with an infinite bank account can have.

His voice filled the room, powerful and rich, narrating the story of a paladin challenging the darkness.

It was perfect.

It was heroic.

It was everything the Church wanted to see.

Even Raziel had to admit the bastard had charisma; Lucian didn’t sing, he ruled the audience.

Lara was next. Her music was crystal clear water, pure and healing. She made the examiners cry with tears of aesthetic emotion.

Then, they called—Novice Raziel Celeste.

Raziel went up the platform and felt the stares stuck in his back like daggers.

He imagined Zion’s mocking smile in his mind, reminding him of his past failures.

’Fail here and they send you to the border. You die in two months,’ his Regressor instinct whispered to him.

He sat on the stool and adjusted the lute. His fingers trembled, but not from fear, but from the mana overload he was accumulating in his fingertips.

He closed his eyes.

He didn’t look for beauty, nor did he look for trauma.

He remembered the sound of bones breaking in his other life.

And he played.

[ACTIVATING SKILL: TRAUMA ACOUSTICS (Level 1)][Target: Induce Collective Anxiety]

The first chord didn’t sound like music; it sounded like a warning.

A low and discordant vibration that made the window glass shake.

The air in the hall became heavy as if they were suddenly underwater and Raziel strummed again, this time introducing a sharp frequency, almost imperceptible, that dug directly into the listeners’ nervous system.

He didn’t sing about heroes. He sang, with a hoarse and broken voice, about the cold.

“There is no light under the earth… only roots and waiting…”

He saw how Father Marius tensed in his chair, bringing a hand to his chest as if he lacked air.

He saw how Lucian’s smile was erased, replaced by a look of confusion and a hand that instinctively went down to where his sword should be.

The weaker novices started sobbing for no apparent reason.

Raziel’s body burned, the System screamed instability warnings at him, but he didn’t stop.

He had to prove he wasn’t useless, he had to prove his pain was power.

He played the final chord, a dissonant note that remained suspended in the air, leaving a metallic taste in everyone’s mouth.

Silence.

No one clapped, nor moved.

It was like they just witnessed a terrible accident and couldn’t look away.

Raziel opened his eyes, breathing heavily, with sweat sticking the tunic to his back.

’Did I go too far?’ he thought, feeling a prick of real panic. ’Did I break them?’

“Raziel…” Father Marius’s voice broke the spell. It didn’t sound authoritative like always.

The priest stood up slowly, looking at him as if Raziel just summoned a minor demon in the middle of mass.

“That wasn’t… conventional,” Marius said, choosing his words carefully, as if he feared that speaking too loud would activate the music again. “There was no praise in your song, nor was there harmony.”

Raziel squeezed the lute’s neck, preparing for expulsion.

“But…” Marius looked at the other examiners. They were pale, some trembling. “The function of a Church Bard is also to remind the faithful of the fear of darkness. The fear of the abyss if they stray from the light.”

The priest sighed, passing a hand over his face, visibly affected.

“You have managed to evoke that terror with an efficacy… disturbing.”

A long pause. Raziel’s heart hammered against his ribs.

“Passed,” Marius sentenced, although the word sounded more like a restraining order than a congratulation. “But Raziel… for the love of the Goddess, don’t play that again on a holiday.”

Raziel let out the air he didn’t know he was holding.

While he went down from the platform, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

It was Lucian.

The noble didn’t have that mocking look anymore, instead he looked at him with a strange mix of respect and mistrust.

“Fuck, Celeste,” Lucian whispered, using a tone no one else could hear. “I thought you were a boring bookworm.”

Lucian leaned in a bit more, his green eyes shining with a sharp curiosity.

“Where the hell did you learn to play a song that sounds like death?”

Raziel adjusted the lute strap, feeling how the System blinked in his retina with a new reward notification. He smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“I just improvised, Lucian,” he lied. “I just improvised.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep