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Throne of Magical Arcana · Chapter 121

Chapter 110: Past and Future

January 17, 2020 · 6 min read · 1,129 words

—Sigh, I accidentally deleted a certain friend's post yesterday. Since I can't remember whose it was, I can only apologize like this.

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After introducing Marcus, Victor smiled and pointed at Lucian: "This is the Lucian Evans I've often told you about — the creator of the Fate Symphony."

"Hello, Mr. Marcus." Lucian stood up along with Victor and nodded in greeting.

Marcus wore a self-satisfied smile: "Hello, Lucian — you can just call me Marcus. Back when I was in the Shack Kingdom, I often heard of your fame. After arriving in Altor, I originally intended to visit you right away, but Teacher Victor told me not to disturb you while you were preparing for your first concert."

The words "first concert" carried a slight emphasis in Marcus's tone, as if he subconsciously felt that Lucian, who had no concert experience to speak of yet, didn't quite deserve the title of "musician."

Lucian answered politely: "Marcus, I've also often heard Teacher Victor mention you — he says you're an outstanding musician who, at only twenty-four, already has extensive concert experience."

"Having so much concert experience is mainly because this touring performance received many invitations from nobles." This was the thing Marcus was most proud of; his smile brightened a shade. He then sat down on Victor's other side and began boasting to Lucian about his concert experiences and his observations across different countries — such as the Kingdom of Syracuse, which revered love and was passionate and open; the Holy Hertz Empire, which was rigorous, conservative, and rigidly formal; and the Shack Kingdom, which was bold and fiery, worshipping warriors.

Lucian was quite interested in this sort of thing, so he casually humored Marcus, letting him talk at length.

By the time the hall quieted down and the concert was about to begin, Marcus finally stopped his monologue, thinking to himself: "Lucian doesn't seem as proud and shallow as I imagined — he seems easy enough to get along with…"

Originally, back when Marcus was in the Shack Kingdom and learned through the Music Review and the Symphony Guide that his teacher Victor had successfully held a concert at the Sacred Hymn Hall and cultivated a genius musician, he had felt genuine happiness and offered sincere congratulations. But as he studied those two newspapers more closely and saw every review's unreserved praise of Lucian — even the highest possible accolades — and as more and more people around him began comparing him, also Victor's student, to Lucian, the scales in Marcus's heart grew unbalanced, as though countless rats were gnawing at his soul.

"Why not wait until he's successfully held a concert before making comparisons? Shooting stars that burn out bright and fall — haven't there been plenty of those?" Every time Marcus thought of those peculiar looks and the whispered gossip that might be circulating behind his back, whatever small measure of goodwill he had just developed toward Lucian evaporated entirely. The position of Court Music Advisor to the Shack Kingdom should have been a pinnacle of his life, but because of Lucian's fame and the constant comparisons, it had become an agonizing existence — like being a complete and utter failure. "And to think he's so careless in preparing his solo piano piece for such an important concert. He's far too arrogant, far too conceited — he's destined for a miserable failure!"

Marcus concealed his hostility toward Lucian deep within himself, and Victor did not notice. Seeing that the symphony orchestra had finished its preparations and that the aged but spirited Christoph, wearing a black tailcoat, had taken his place at the front of the stage, Victor straightened his back like everyone else, expressing his respect for Christoph through his attentive posture.

In the municipal square, Phyllis, Lot, Piola, Grace, and the rest of the audience all held their breath, waiting for the concert to begin with an air of deep reverence.

Even Duke Vaolet, Princess Natasha, Prince Michel, and the other highest-ranking dignitaries were showing their respect.

The president of the Altor Musicians' Association — the most famous and authoritative musician on the entire continent, a living legend of music — was about to commence the final concert of his life!

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending my concert. It has been fifty-nine years since I first embarked upon the path of music. To still be standing here at the age of seventy is thanks not only to your support but also to the inspiration of a genius. The path he blazes has reignited my passion for creating music — I feel like an eighteen-year-old lad again."

"We will grow old, we will die, but music will not. Music never dies."

Christoph delivered these brief words in honor of his final concert, then turned around amid the applause. His right hand holding the baton and his empty left hand both rose gently, and the music began.

The first three symphonies were selections from among Christoph's many works over the years — one rich and full-bodied, one solemn and noble, one passionate and elegant, all brimming with an atmosphere of joy and happiness. Under Christoph's own baton, the orchestra performed them magnificently, captivating the "guests" in the Sacred Hymn Hall and the countless spectators in the municipal square.

These were pieces that had been performed for many years, heard from one generation to the next. They were the memories of many people's lives — the power of classics!

During the brief intermissions between symphony movements and the longer breaks between each symphony, it seemed as though the entirety of Altor was erupting in thunderous applause.

Having finished the three symphonies, a slightly weary Christoph said: "The next portion of the evening will be devoted to my student Sylvia's piano sonata. I shall prepare for the fourth symphony."

As Christoph descended from the stage, the nobles and musicians in the Sacred Hymn Hall looked somewhat melancholy, as if something precious had been lost. In the municipal square, the mood was more one of admiration.

"Truly classic works — Mr. Christoph is indeed a living legend of music," Piola said with a smile to Sharon.

Sharon nodded earnestly: "I grew up listening to those three pieces. Being able to attend a Mr. Christoph concert in person is the greatest honor of my life."

"Great musicians worthy of the title 'Master' are rare even across the long sweep of history, but I believe Mr. Christoph deserves to be called one," Grace and the others said with equal reverence and adoration.

Clad in a pure white evening gown, like an angel descended to the mortal world, Sylvia walked onto the stage, sat down at the piano, and placed her slender, graceful hands upon the keys. Her performance had begun.

End of chapter 121