I Became The Academy Necromancer

Chapter 105: Consolation For The Pianist

༺ Consolation For The Pianist ༻ 

 Oster Valtany was the name of Owen’s grandfather.

 Since we visited his grave late at night, we left the exhausted Owen after he slept in Illuania’s arms.

 The number of souls inside the Claren Public Cemetery was surprisingly low; most were at rest, while the evil spirits had fled due to the roaming yokai in the city.

 At the grave where the grandfather slept.

 A faint light emanated from the black gem I held, offering a brief waking to the artist who had dedicated his entire life to the piano. 

 An impressive man with a white beard and disheveled hair slowly opened his eyes.

  [Where am I?]

 “We are in a public cemetery, Oster Valtany. I am the Necromancer who woke you, Deus Verdi.”

 I decided to keep my introduction simple since he wouldn’t understand if I used the title ‘Soul Whisperer’ here. Oster then scanned himself.

  [Am I unable to reach the land of abundance prepared by Goddess Demeter?]

 So, he was a follower of Goddess Demeter.

 They believed that after death, they would live abundantly in the land prepared by their Goddess.

 However, I had no intention of discussing the truth about the afterlife with him.

 I got straight to the point since I didn’t want to disturb the peaceful rest of the dead, or confront them of the harsh realities.

 “I have questions about the boy, Owen Valtany, regarding the abilities he possesses.”

  [Owen…]

 With a regretful expression, Oster recalled memories of his pitiful grandson.

  [He is truly a pitiful child. After he lost his parents at a young age, I raised him. However, as I was only skilled at playing the piano, that was all I could teach him.]

 “He still follows in your footsteps.”

  [What a poor boy.]

 A deep sense of regret was evident in his face full of wrinkles.

 “I heard you comforted and sent off the yokai who were roaming in Claren.”

  [As a Dark Mage, why do you even know of that?]

 Oster had no intention of hiding his displeasure with me as a Dark Mage, but I continued speaking for now.

 “Owen hopes that he can follow in your footsteps. The boy feels compelled to show pity to the yokai and send them off as you did.”

  [….]

 “He also believes that it is necessary to do so. With the numerous yokai flooding Claren, souls are frightened, and as a result, they become evil spirits, which in turn causes harm to the city’s residents.”

 From this perspective, it seemed that Claren owed quite a debt to the old man in front of me. 

 However, the old man had a different perspective on the situation.

 He perceived it as a burden.

  [What does that have to do with Owen?]

 “….”

  [Yes, I comforted the yokai in this city because they were pitiful, and because I simply could do that.]

 Oster looked at his rough and coarse palm. It didn’t look like a pianist’s hand.

  [I don’t want Owen to bear this burden. The yokai may be pitiful, but I don’t want my grandson to carry this burden.]

 “….”

  [Do you know why this city has so many yokai?]

 Oster told me everything as if he were confessing.

  [It’s because of the desires and wishes that all the artists in the city have. They can be seen as a kind of excrement, taking form into various beings.] 

 As I mentioned, when we created Maek¹same thing as Baku to devour Princess Eleanor’s dreams; yokai or thought forms were supernatural beings created from someone’s wishes and desires. 

 And now, yokai with excessively bizarre forms were created, roaming around the city. The desires and wishes of numerous artists residing in Claren had gathered and mixed together, creating this problem.

  [Unless this city disappears or these artists leave, the number of yokai will only continue to increase.]

 “That is right.”

 Upon seeing I easily agreed to his statement, Oster gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and replied.

  [I hope Owen breaks free from these constraints. I don’t want him to waste his life buried in the excrement of other artists.]

 It was truly a choice that a guardian would make for their children.

 There was no need for a boy to waste his entire life for the sake of this city. 

 I understood that, but he still hadn’t answered my question.

 “So, what exactly are Owen’s abilities?”

  […]

 “Every time he plays the piano, yokai will gather around him. Owen will end up spending his entire life haunted by them if we do not know what his ability precisely does.”

 Oster let out a heavy sigh. It seemed that he suspected I had some ulterior motives. 

  [It is not the type of talent that a Dark Mage like you would desire. It is merely his talent as a pianist.]

 “….”

  [That child is a genius, a genius at the piano. If there was a God of Art, they would surely have favored that child.]

 Oster’s voice carried sincerity as he spoke highly of the child’s talent.

 [He has a talent, one that would instantly surpass someone like me! That is Owen! I firmly assert that it is a loss to have him handle the leftovers of the artists in a place like this!]

 “Answer me properly. What ability are both you and Owen hiding?”

 Even though they had a flaw that they could only see them while playing the piano, the ability of being able to see yokai and ghosts was not something usual to begin with. Even Necromancers couldn’t see them unless they were strong evil spirits.

 Since he had the same eyes as mine, if I had to say, it was probably no different from beholding a new world.

 However, Oster gave an unexpected answer to my question.

  [Damn it! I don’t know either!]

 In frustration, Oster poured out his secrets while clenching his fists and swinging them in the air.

  [Out of a sudden, one day! I could see them! They suddenly received comfort from my playing and just disappeared! I continued doing it because I could!]

 “….”

  [I actually wanted to ask them this question! Why did they suddenly show themselves in front of me and burden me with these obligations?! And now, those bastards also want to shackle my grandson’s ankles?!]

 “Alright, I understand.”

 I didn’t sense any falsehood in his cries. Oster genuinely felt unjust about why he ended up with such an ability.

 “I am sorry for disturbing your rest.” 

 Just as I was about to put him to sleep once more, Oster hurriedly reached out his hand.

 Even though his hand passed through me, it was enough to stop my actions.

  [W-wait, please! If you’re truly sorry for disturbing me, please grant me one favor!]

 “….”

  [I-it’s a request from the dead! Please! I won’t ask for anything strange!]

 “I am not inclined to entertain unreasonable requests.” 

 However, since I did disturb his rest, I was willing to listen. If it wasn’t too difficult, I could consider it. 

  [It won’t be that difficult! It won’t even take much time either!]

 With a plea filled with earnestness, Oster put forth his request. And having heard it all, I replied with a nod, indicating that it wouldn’t be too difficult.

* * *

 The Claren City Hall was bustling every single day.

 The only blame a broke artist could lay was on their abilities and the environment they had created for themselves.

 However, these kinds of artists who are living in Claren refuse to admit their lack of talent. Even if they were on the verge of death, they always stormed City Hall, making life difficult for the staff.

 “Why not me?!”

 “Is this how you handle your work?!”

 “The city is mostly made up of artists! Does it make sense for us to be treated like this when this place thrives on tourism?!”

 They would endlessly inflate their own worth with just words, calling the mayor foolish and shouting that without them—the artists—the entire city would perish.

 Especially now, they had been demanding the government to pay attention to the artists’ welfare in light of Artist’s Day, which was approaching, thinking as if they were some kind of martyrs.

 “Sigh.”

 The receptionists could feel a throbbing headache coming up. In fact, they had seriously considered whether they should quit. Every year, whenever Artist’s Day approached, these people seemed to appear out of thin air, as if there was a button somewhere triggering them to come out.

 It was true that Claren had become a tourist city thanks to the efforts of artists, but now there were too many of them.

 In truth, both the City Hall and the mayor wished the population would decrease a bit. 

 Of course, the moment this was mentioned, it would be seen as suppressing artistic freedom. 

 Not all artists were like that. In fact, the percentage of artists engaging in such rude behavior across the entire city was less than 10%. 

 However, this small percentage of people were simply, just loud.

 “Look at this! Here! The location where my painting is registered as a tourist spot, so why am I not benefiting from it?!”

 “That area already had many visitors to begin with. Instead, you should be fined for vandalizing a tourist spot.”

 “Hmph! What nonsense! More people are visiting that place because of me!”

 Having become accustomed to such forced claims, every response they gave was merely formal and procedural.

  Clang.

 Suddenly, a man walked in as the main gate to the City Hall was opened.

 The man’s presence seemed to suppress those around him, who were originally throwing tantrums and complaining.

 His suit was exquisite, and the beauty of the woman in a maid uniform beside him was outstanding.

 The only flaw was that her uniform was too revealing.

 The starving artists of Claren, who hastily picked up whatever they could wear, opened their mouths with envy while murmuring behind the scenes.

 “A noble? He’s a noble, right?”

 “Yeah, he’s definitely a noble who came for tourism.”

 “Look at what that woman by his side is wearing. It must be quite enjoyable every night.”

 For a moment, the woman’s gaze fell upon the muttering artists. They immediately fell silent after sensing killing intent from her, unable to utter another word.

 The man, emanating an air of nobility from head to toe, approached a receptionist and asked.

 “Where is the mayor?”

 “Huh? Pardon? T-the mayor?”

 Just from his sudden appearance and inquiry about the mayor, they were certain that this person couldn’t be treated lightly.

 “He is currently in his office. I-if you could please provide your name, I will immediately inform him.”

 The receptionist had asked to know the man’s identity, and he answered without any hesitation.

 “Deus Verdi.”

 “Ah, Deus Ve… rdi?”

 As the receptionist wrote down the name, she slowly raised her head. Upon meeting eyes with Deus, she rose from her seat and exclaimed in shock.

 “S-S-Soul Whisperer!”

 Many had still refused to acknowledge the Soul Whisperer. 

 However, this was the city hall within the Griffin Kingdom’s territory.

 His Majesty, King Orpheus, had personally placed the Soul Whisperer on par with the Saintess, with even the Saintess herself acknowledging him. 

 Essentially, it was a situation akin to the arrival of one of the top five prominent nobles in the country.

 Suddenly, the receptionist felt as if she saw rays of light emanating from behind Deus.

 Her lips trembled and she couldn’t properly move her hands. 

 Normally, she probably wouldn’t have been able to speak properly due to being too flustered, but on the contrary, Deus’ gaze kept piercing into her.

 This caused the receptionist to manage to gather her wits and reply.

 “I will immediately summon the mayor!”

• 1

  same thing as Baku

/genesisforsaken

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