What surprised Verdi was that a piano could be played this way, not that Lucian's technique was particularly difficult. As a knight, it merely took some practice. After a brief moment of astonishment, he quickly composed himself.
Natasha gave Verdi a look that was half-smile, half-not. "The revolution in fingering technique doesn't really matter to us, but ordinary musicians will likely need a long time to adapt. What Lucian demonstrated isn't just dazzling fingering—it's the expansion of range, dynamic contrast, and other dimensions in piano sonata composition, giving a single piano the symphonic color of an entire orchestra. Hehe, I'm growing more curious and confident about Lucian's upcoming Pathos."
Her words were straightforward enough for the nobles around them who weren't particularly versed in music to understand: the evolution of the instrument would inevitably bring changes to musical composition, and Lucian was leading the way ahead of everyone else.
"I restrained my curiosity and didn't go look at Lucian's Pathos score, but Victor mentioned that Lucian has indeed made extensive changes to the form, structure, and techniques of the piano sonata. Hehe, it seems I really am getting old—I've been so focused on composing the Dawn War that I haven't properly studied the piano." Christopher made a self-deprecating joke with good humor.
Duke Vaolet laughed along. "Perhaps I'm getting old too. When I heard Lucian's powerful performance just now, instead of getting excited like the young people, I actually found it too intense and couldn't quite adapt. Of course, that doesn't diminish the excellence of Lucian's arrangement in terms of melody and technique. But I'm more looking forward to the different experience this Pathos—composed by him personally—will bring us."
Hearing her father say this, Natasha wrinkled her nose without offering a rebuttal, thinking to herself: "That performance was far too captivating, too powerful! I need to learn Lucian's fingering techniques as soon as possible!"
As for Phyllis, John, and the others, seeing Lucian take the stage three times in a row without a single cold moment, and watching the pieces he'd chosen receive overwhelmingly enthusiastic receptions, they quietly relaxed a bit. As long as this final piano sonata was well-received, Lucian's concert could come to a perfect close.
…………
On the municipal plaza, the dark-haired, slender Piero stared blankly at the stage inside the crystal wall, listening to the applause around him that seemed ready to tear the roof off. In anguish, he murmured under his breath: "It shouldn't be like this. It shouldn't be like this. His fingering and playing technique are all wrong!"
But the thought that he himself had just been swept up in those passionate, frenzied piano melodies and that bold, romantic display of fingering made Piero all the more unable to accept it and all the more hateful toward himself—as though only by berating himself could he confirm that his father's musical artistry was correct and immortal.
"Yes, yes, yes! His previous piano pieces were just piles of technique, lacking the thematic ideas and inner meaning he himself advocated! It must be that even he couldn't accept his own fingering! That must be it!"
In his daze, Piero didn't notice when Lucian reappeared and once again sat down at the piano, eyes slightly closed as he gathered his emotions.
Piora, Lilith, and the other audience members on the plaza fell abruptly silent, awaiting the final piece of Mr. Evans's concert.
"Can it replace a symphony and bring the concert to a climactic and perfect ending?"
…………
Lucian sat before the piano in quiet contemplation. He knew that as a prospective knight, he had no issues with the playing technique required for Pathos. But the reason the first movement of Pathos was the most difficult of the three movements was precisely because it contained profound emotion and thought. Without genuine emotional investment, what emerged would be nothing more than a string of mechanical, lifeless notes that anyone could immediately judge as inferior.
Scenes of sorrow and oppression flowed through Lucian's mind:
The faces and voices of his parents—the regret and grief of never being able to see them again, never able to make amends;
The fear, trembling, helplessness, and resentment of being forced into the sewers by a Church priest;
The fury and humiliation of being beaten by gang thugs;
The anguish, self-blame, and rage upon learning that Joel's family had been kidnapped by cultists;
The sorrow, grief, and burning anger when he saw those three severed fingers;
……
All of it converged into a heavy weight of grief pressing down upon Lucian's heart. And what Lucian found most suffocating was that he was living in Altor, this City of Sacred Hymns!
During meditation, he constantly worried that the Night Watch might pass by outside and detect the unusual fluctuations of spiritual power within;
In the magic laboratory, he feared that experiments might produce too much noise and be discovered;
When practicing magic, he had to remain ever vigilant against leaving behind any conspicuous traces;
At gatherings of the magic circle, he had to conceal his true identity, afraid that the strong would prey upon the weak or that Church spies might be present;
Acting in his role as "Professor," rescuing hostages—every step was fraught with danger, every moment heart-pounding, each footfall like walking along a cliff's edge where the slightest slip would make him a sacrifice for blood rituals or a victim on the burning stake—intensely tense, oppressive, and anxious;
Only at this moment did Lucian realize that deep within his heart, he was filled with a multitude of suppressed negative emotions. He drew them out now, channeling them, building toward an explosion.
He pressed the pedal all the way to the bottom, and his arm brought that phrase—born from the depths of his soul—crashing down upon the keys!
Bang! The strings inside the piano seemed to tremble! It jolted everyone to attention!