act18side

I'm still thinking.

Take your time. As long as things go well today, that's something we'll have plenty of.

Right, we still have plenty of time.

Enough of your jokes, Gertrude Strollo!

Do you have any idea what you've just said?!

I said, I was the one killed my brother.

You've gone mad.

Mad? No, think about it carefully, my good spy.

Your once exalted father falls from grace, funding some shady research in secret. He tries to blow hot and cold, his plans are exposed, and he ultimately meets an untimely end.

Afterwards, your brother is groomed by 'them', terrified into obedience.

But he is too incompetent, he can't do a single thing right. He slips up once and almost exposes the ones pulling his strings.

Instead of watching him suffer in torment at the hands of those who always despised him, isn't it better to use him as a stepping stone so you can succeed him?

Who are 'they'? Who are the ones pulling his strings?

Oh, I would like to know that more than anyone, far more than you would.

If you had that information, I would sit down and strike a deal with you here and now.

I might even go down into the streets myself to yell about how I have information on the Witch King's remains.

Tainted witness. If I recall, this saying has grown quite popular in Columbia?

I've met no shortage of idiots who thought they could play ball with us, Gräfin Strollo.

Didn't end well for any of them.

Herr Czerny, are you alright?

I want to say yes, but that would be a lie.

If you really can't handle it, then––

Ebenholz, don't forget whose decision this whole thing was.

If that's what you want, then I will give my all.

The two of us have already mastered the piece you wrote. If you, the composer, can't perform on par due to health problems, then that's entirely on you.

Well spoken. The melody is already etched into my head. All you two have to do is follow me.

You talk a big game.

Alright. Now that Mr. Czerny is here, let's hurry up and get ready to go onstage!

Whether for our own sake or for our audience, we've all got to put our best foot forward.

Kreide, is it just me, or do you seem... unusually excited today?

Do I?

That might be because...

For the first time, I'm experiencing what it means to be alive.

I don't get you at all.

Herr Czerny, you're up.

Oh right, there's one other thing, Herr Czerny.

What is this piece called? You still haven't given it a name.

I came up with it on the way here.

I will name it——

'Licht und Schatten.'

Next up... Czerny, Ebenholz, and Kreide will ferry you away to tonight's finale.

As you may already know, this piece is Herr Czerny's new composition, debuting tonight for the very first time.

Its title is–– 'Trio for Flute, Cello, and Piano in B-flat minor - Licht und Schatten.'

The three bow to the audience, and the concert-goers in the auditorium respond with warm applause.

The music begins.

After just a few short measures, the entire audience, from the auditorium to the balcony, sits up straight in their seats, those who previously wore expressions of expectation and suspicion alike.

No whispers, no coughs, not even the sound of clothes rubbing together.

Not a single soul wishes to disturb this fleeting, unadulterated beauty.

Small beads of sweat begin to emerge on Czerny's forehead.

But this does not indicate any problems with the trio, outside of their music. It's just that the power he is required to guide and control is too precise.

They've begun their performance.

Czerny, I just knew you wouldn't disappoint me. You will find a way to help them.

Listen, this new piece... How could the audience possibly comprehend that this opening came straight from the Witch King?

Of course they cannot comprehend, because this piece already belongs to you.

Ah, this melody... It all makes sense now.

You intend to rip the Voice of Mundane out of both of them. Bold.

However, what will you do after that? Are you going to become the new vessel?

In Biegler's eyes, Gertrude has gone completely insane.

She mumbles to herself in the direction of the concert hall, as if conversing with a dear friend.

My dear spy, would you like to hear my performance?

Gertrude seems to be addressing Biegler, but is also muttering to herself at the same time. As she speaks, she walks toward the harp sitting in the corner of the room.

My patience is running out, Gräfin Strollo.

I bought this house for a reason.

It sits outside the Afterglow, but you can still hear the music coming from the concert hall clearly. A wonderful location, isn't it?

I love listening to the music that passes through here.

This way, he doesn't have to see me, and I don't have to see him.

She begins to play as she speaks.

Gräfin Strollo, the Arts Units in this building have already been disassembled.

And even if they weren't, don't think your Arts will work on me. Men easily swayed by music don't make good spies.

I only want to play the harp, my good spy.

Czerny hates me. He hates me for not treating music with purity. He hates me for using it as a tool.

I once sought to defend myself and explain it away, but I later came to realize, I might actually be exactly the woman he says I am.

Even if he carved my heart out, I would never able to treat music with purity.

Tell me, how could one who has committed fratricide; a woman who, for over ten years, has been hell-bent on exacting revenge on those puppetmasters, possibly achieve anything close to purity?

As much as Biegler doesn't want to admit it, Gertrude's performance is excellent, not at all paling in comparison to the echoes drifting in from beyond the window.

Without a doubt, this is the level that all outstanding Leithanian nobles should aspire to.

But, the words that come out of Gertrude's mouth make him shudder.

Wait, revenge?!

You're a clever man. You should've guessed that my tragic failure last night was not the result of impetuousness.

But you don't know what I'm hiding. You believe I've exhausted my plans, which is the only reason you're here chatting with me.

The truth is, I do want to buy time, but some words have been festering in my head for far too long, which is why I can't help but ramble on.

I do hope you pardon my rudeness.

Furthermore, I must apologize that you'll be dying here with me.

What the hell are you doing?!

It truly is an eye-opening piece of music – or, so it was at the beginning.

Just as the title implies, the music weaves a shattered illusion from the very beginning, making one's heart sink to the bottom of a valley as if dark clouds are blotting out the sun.

However, the tune changes almost immediately, the sonorous cello uplifting the flute's clarity with the piano behind them both to break through the layers of gloom, singing a paean to the joy of glimpsing the light of day.

O, Light!

This is the singular thought in everyone's head.

They immediately understand the 'Licht' in 'Licht und Schatten.'

They begin to look forward to the 'Schatten.'

However, a feeling of unease begins to set in to some members of the audience.

Because they see the expressions of suffering creeping across the faces of the three performers.

As if something is gnawing away at them from within.

Beautiful.

An exemplary musician, devoting his life to fighting the power left behind by the Witch King.

Just as he is about to pull this doomed battle back to a stalemate, he loses not to the Witch King, or to himself, but to the obsessions of an old acquaintance.

Hey, what are you going on about?

Do you hear the harp's voice?

Huh? A harp? Why would there be a harp? Isn't this supposed to be a trio?