This was the longest and most elaborate set of markings Lucian had ever drawn — he even wrote out the word "Emden" directly since no agreed-upon symbol had been established, leaving the corner of the room looking both ornate and messy.
Once everything was in place, Lucian slipped away from his corner of the house. Drawing on his Half-Lunar Illumination ability, he made his way silently to the vicinity of his cottage, then retreated into the dark shadows, focusing his senses on the situation inside.
Since the Night Watch had departed, the supernatural aura within the cottage had reappeared. Through the moonlight filtering through the gaps, Lucian caught a glimpse of what the quasi-Divine Art looked like: a pair of nearly transparent eyes, pale and without pupils, drifting in mid-air inside the cottage, silently staring down at the humped blanket.
This eerie and terrifying sight would have sent any ordinary person into a panic, but Lucian merely muttered to himself with a trace of relief: "Good thing this quasi-Divine Art doesn't incorporate infrared detection — otherwise the blanket, which has already lost its heat, would have been easily spotted as abnormal."
Deep in the shadows, Lucian waited quietly until half an hour had passed and the transparent eyes, having reached the end of their duration, slowly faded away.
The moment he witnessed this, Lucian sharpened his focus. He sensed a ripple of supernatural force emanating from another corner of the room, and then, from the empty darkness, a second pair of pale, transparent eyes slowly materialized.
"So that's where he's hiding." Lucian watched that corner while flicking the small stone in his hand in the opposite direction.
*Pop, pop, pop* — the sound of the stone hitting the ground and bouncing was strikingly loud in the unnaturally quiet night. The pale, transparent eyes shuddered violently, then rapidly shattered and vanished, as if the heretical priest had been startled out of concentration at the critical moment of casting the quasi-Divine Art by the sudden noise.
Seizing the opportunity, Lucian pushed his speed to its absolute limit. His semi-illuminated body left afterimages in its wake, and under the silver moonlight, he seemed to merge into the brilliant radiance — nearly impossible to detect unless one looked very carefully.
Covering the short distance in an instant, Lucian reached the wooden window, pushed it open — it had never actually been locked — vaulted inside, and gently closed it behind him. Then, while the heretical priest was recovering from the backlash of the failed quasi-Divine Art, he strolled leisurely to the bed, lay down, and pulled the blanket over himself.
Perhaps out of vigilance, or perhaps to investigate the cause of the stone's noise, it was a full minute before Lucian sensed another wave of supernatural force from inside the cottage.
Over the next ten minutes, Lucian pretended to roll over in his sleep and kicked off the blanket, allowing the pale, transparent eyes to get a direct look at him.
Nothing abnormal. Not a single problem. The heretical priest could only attribute the earlier disturbance to a stray cat or bird passing through, and finally relaxed completely.
Seeing that the other party had shown no further signs of activity for so long, Lucian concluded he had passed the test and drifted into genuine sleep.
If he failed to successfully awaken his bloodline power, Lucian would have no choice but to wait for dawn, and slip out of the magic laboratory while the residents of the Adrang District slums were starting to rise and the heretical priest sought a different vantage point to continue his surveillance.
…………
Dawn broke. After finishing breakfast, Lucian headed out to the Musicians' Association.
Before the office of the "Affairs Department" on the third floor, Lucian knocked on the half-open door. A middle-aged woman with her hair pinned up and dressed elegantly walked over, studied Lucian carefully, and asked with a hint of uncertainty: "Mr. Evans? Are you looking for Brian?"
"Yes, I have some business with Brian." Lucian noticed that Brian, alerted by the conversation, had already stepped out from inside the office.
Brian's voice carried a touch of nervousness: "Mr. Evans, is there a problem with the villa?"
"No, but the sheets, blankets, and such are all quite damp. I'd like you to find someone to air them out, and have the villa cleaned before next Monday," Lucian instructed with a smile, his expression easy — it was a simple enough matter.
Brian's rapidly quickening heartbeat steadied, and he produced a highly polished smile: "Your wish is my command, Mr. Evans."
After leaving the Affairs Department, Lucian returned to his private lounge in much better spirits than the day before. His strength had been greatly enhanced, and he now possessed the qualification to attempt a rescue when the opportunity arose.
To avoid drawing the heretical priest's suspicion through any abnormal behavior, Lucian began practicing the piano. Having awakened his bloodline power, the control and coordination of his hands and feet had elevated to a remarkably high level. Combined with his extraordinary memory, many technically demanding passages that would normally require weeks of repetitive practice were mastered with ease.
Thus, after acclimating and running through two or three practice rounds, Lucian played the *Fate Symphony*, piano études, and other familiar pieces with unprecedented fluidity, fully meeting the standard of a competent performer.
"No wonder Rhein said that once you awaken your bloodline power, combined with good memory, you could become a competent pianist within one to two weeks," Lucian recalled Rhein's words.
In truth, a knight-class powerhouse who was willing to practice would not find it difficult to use a musical instrument, but mastering it to the level of a true artist still required musical talent and long-term dedication.
After handing over the Moonlight Rose to Lucian, Phyllis considered their agreement officially in effect and was unwilling to waste any time. She arrived that morning to practice alongside him, and to seek his advice on a piece she had been attempting to compose.
Lucian's foundations in music were actually less solid than Phyllis's, so he could only search the Soul Library for melodies similar to what she had written, then offer guidance based on the variations found in those masterworks. Though Lucian only offered two or three suggestions over the course of the entire morning, Phyllis was more than satisfied. Following his guidance, she quickly found fresh inspiration to flesh out the composition, achieving far better results than before.
"Your musical talent is truly astonishing." Phyllis's ruby-like beautiful eyes gleamed as she fixed her gaze on Lucian, her expression carrying deep admiration and a hint of reverence. She no longer had the slightest doubt about the label of musical genius attached to Lucian's name — in fact, if anyone ever questioned it, she would be the first to stand up and refute them. "And your piano technique has improved considerably as well. It seems that after a full month of practicing such a complex piece, you've broken through your bottleneck and entered a phase of rapid progress."
Lucian could only respond with his most standard, polite smile.