Chapter 109
It was true.
To soothe the restless spirits and, in return, bend them to one’s will, one needed the art of “spirit binding.”
A forbidden technique, accessible only to a select few within the alliance.
“I can do it.”
Chris’s hands moved busily over his bowstring.
His voice deepened, as if comforting the wandering souls themselves.
“I’ve seen spirit binding countless times in my childhood—I can imitate it perfectly.”
In the past, the only person in his family who ever protected him was his younger sibling—a spirit binder.
Not just any spirit binder, but the best of their time.
“The core of spirit binding is comfort.”
As the music filled the hall, the restless spirits began to weep.
But that alone wasn’t enough.
Chris had to perform the binding ritual.
A ritual that could only be woven with the mana of light.
Here lay the problem.
To use spirit binding, he would have to reveal his secret.
“That’s impossible.”
No matter how much Count Kazar and Tern meant to him, this secret could not be exposed.
“If there were no other way, I might have considered it.”
Both Count Kazar and Tern had been willing to die in his place.
So, in the worst-case scenario, Chris might have revealed the secret.
But fortunately, he had another way.
“Tern, hurry and cast what I told you!”
“Understood!”
Tern unleashed a curse.
Directed at none other than Christian himself.
What was even more baffling was the nature of the curses.
A curse of sorrow.
A curse of self-forgetfulness.
One plunged the target into overwhelming grief.
The other dulled their emotions.
Chris had a reason for having such incomprehensible curses cast on himself.
“I have to convert these curses into spirit binding rituals.”
It sounded absurd.
They were completely different things—how could that be possible?
Regardless of the ritual type, curses were dark magic, while spirit binding was a power of light.
Even Chris couldn’t simply turn darkness into light.
Instead—
“I just have to make the darkness act like light.”
A crazy idea.
But it was possible.
Because it was Chris.
He focused his consciousness on the hand holding the bowstring.
The cursed energy Tern had cast flowed into his fingertips.
A deep, pure energy befitting a curse cast by a prodigy.
Chris poured that cursed energy directly into his instrument and played.
This was the method of “musical magic,” where magic is manifested through performance.
No, on closer inspection, it was subtly different.
It wasn’t just sound channeling magic; the meaning embedded in Chris’s music fused seamlessly with the curses.
Like a bard conjuring miraculous wonders through song.
The sorrow carried by the curse blended with the requiem comforting the dead, soaking the restless spirits.
Their grief pierced the sky, and the mansion began to tremble.
“W-What?!”
Count Libery’s face hardened as he sensed something was terribly wrong, but he was already expending his strength casting a seventh-rank curse.
“Die! Now!”
He intensified the curse aimed at Count Kazar, but the latter endured with superhuman willpower.
Considering the power of a seventh-rank death curse, it was an incredible struggle.
Count Kazar was drawing on a father’s denial to protect his son, unleashing extraordinary strength.
Meanwhile, Chris moved to the next phase.
The curse embedded in the violin shifted.
Now it was the curse of self-forgetfulness.
A curse that erased sorrow, woven into the music and settling over the spirits.
But this wasn’t the right way.
True comfort had to be given to the spirits.
Even traditional spirit binding rituals didn’t include a process of forgetfulness.
Yet Chris twisted the ritual in his own way.
“After all, the core is comfort.”
The mood of his playing changed.
From sorrow to healing.
A warm melody of recovery mingled with the curse of forgetfulness.
The spirits’ grudges and wounds began to heal alongside their fading memories.
“Ahhhhhhh!!”
The spirits screamed.
Had their grudges been lifted?
No, that wasn’t it.
It was only a slight comfort.
But even that was significant.
No one had ever comforted them before.
The spirits looked at Chris with tears streaming down their faces.
Eyes full of gratitude.
Eyes promising to grant any request.
The spirit binding had succeeded!
Now Chris could make one request of these spirits.
That was the principle of spirit binding.
Chris’s desire was obvious.
He pointed toward the pale Count Libery, twisting his lips into a grim smile.
“Take revenge. On the bastard who did this to you.”
“!!”
“Kyaaaaaaah!!!”
With the spirits’ desperate cries, something astonishing happened.
The magic circles etched throughout the mansion began to crack.
The human sacrifices were disrupted!
As a result—
Creak, grind.
The gluttonous music box ceased its movement.
“No, no! Ugh!”
Count Libery vomited blood.
The seventh-rank dark magic he had been channeling through the music box shattered, and the backlash struck him hard.
Then—
Step.
A shadow fell over the kneeling Count Libery.
Eyes chillingly cold.
It was Christian.
“Th-This…!”
Count Libery tried to summon his strength, but his core convulsed, and he coughed up blood again.
“W-Wait! I have something to say…!”
He gasped desperately, but—
Thrust.
Christian’s sword pierced his heart.
Count Libery’s eyes widened in disbelief, his body trembling once before going limp.
Unlike his fearsome reputation as the foremost vassal of the Dark Mage, his death was pitifully hollow.
Chris exhaled a low sigh and turned toward Count Kazar.
“Are you all right, Father?”
“I’m fine. But you just…”
Count Kazar recalled what Christian had just done.
To embed curses in music and perform spirit binding.
Who would believe such a thing was possible?
But with Christian, it made perfect sense.
He had performed countless miracles even greater than this.
“My son,” Count Kazar thought proudly to himself, clearing his throat.
Fortunately, there seemed to be no lasting side effects.
“Well done. Thanks to you, this matter is resolved. With Count Libery dealt with, Eshed will suffer a heavy blow as well.”
But Chris gave an unexpected reply.
“It’s not over yet.”
“What?”
“The punishment for Eshed is still far off.”
“!!”
Christian’s eyes burned with a chilling intensity.
“There’s no way I’m ending it here.”
Right.
Though they had toppled the Libery family, Eshed’s remaining forces were no small threat.
Eshed’s suffering was only just beginning.
“I’ll drag him down to the very bottom.”
Count Kazar swallowed hard at Christian’s reaction.
He sensed his son was plotting something terrifying once again.
“What’s your plan? Even if we investigate the Libery estate, it won’t be easy to find evidence linking Eshed.”
“That’s true. But it doesn’t matter. My goal isn’t to bring Eshed to legal justice.”
Even more baffling.
“Father, what do you think is the worst possible outcome for Eshed after this?”
“…Being found guilty?”
“No. Even if it’s proven he performed human sacrifices, the punishment is limited. That’s because of the pardon rights held by direct descendants.”
If an ordinary mage was found guilty of human sacrifice, the penalty would be severe.
But the twelve great mage families’ direct heirs enjoyed pardons that reduced their punishments, even for grave crimes.
If the family head decided to impose a harsh sentence, the pardon could be overridden—but it was unlikely Nordian would intervene so far.
Most likely, the punishment would be moderate.
“Of course, if found guilty, even Eshed would suffer significant damage. But what I want goes beyond that.”
“What exactly do you want?”
“Eshed’s downfall.”
“!!”
Downfall.
Count Kazar’s eyes widened.
“How? You’ve destroyed the Libery family, but Eshed’s other forces aren’t to be underestimated.”
“I know.”
Christian grinned.
“I have a way. Just watch.”
Like a villain.
“He will lose all his glory and fall into utter misery.”
Meanwhile, at that moment—
“……”
“……”
Nordian and Merian sat in silence.
‘What did I just witness?’
Merian recalled Chris’s spirit binding and shook her head.
She knew he was a genius, but was something like that really possible?
Using curses to perform spirit binding.
The magical adaptability to turn a curse cast on oneself into a tool.
His skill as a bard, channeling dark magic through music.
And even healing the hearts of restless spirits through his performance.
All of it combined to create the miracle of spirit binding.
…Easier said than done. It was as absurd as using destructive magic to perform healing.
‘How did the head of the family react?’
Merian glanced at Nordian.
Nordian sat upright, lips pressed tight, his youthful face showing clear displeasure.
But Merian, having served him for a long time, could read his thoughts perfectly.
He wasn’t just annoyed.
Rather—
“Spirit binding, huh? Following the alliance’s tricks just because you carry the blood of the Dark Mage.”
He grumbled, but—
“…Still, it was a pretty impressive response.”
His true feelings slipped out.
Nordian was also amazed by what Chris had accomplished.
And rightly so.
What Chris had done today was nothing short of extraordinary.
“But to see the power of the dominant class and still not back down—that was reckless. He should have sacrificed his father to secure the future.”
Nordian tried hard to sound harsh and unsympathetic.
Whether it was because he expected that cold-heartedness from a mine, or because he was worried that Christian had nearly died, no one could say.
For some reason, Merian thought it was the latter, and she fought back a smile as she spoke.
“Maybe he was just confident he could pull it off.”
“…”
Nordian snapped his mouth shut.
Indeed, Christian was the kind of guy who could do something like that.
“Anyway, whose grandson is that wild child? He’s going to get himself into serious trouble one of these days.”
Merian’s eyes widened.
It was the first time.
The first time Nordian had called Christian his ‘grandson’ directly.
Since becoming head of the family, Nordian had never used such a personal term for any of his blood relatives.
Whether it was intentional or just slipped out, it was a momentous thing.
He had acknowledged Christian as his own grandson.
“I’m feeling every ache after being out so long. Let’s head back.”
“I’ll stop by the Count of Libery’s estate for a moment before I go.”
“Hmm?”
“As Black Shadow Knight Commander, I need to check if the Count of Libery has made any further mistakes.”
In truth, she intended to help Christian.
If she, as the head of the inspection corps, lent him support during the upcoming ‘trial,’ it would be a great advantage.
But then—
“Leave it be.”
“My lord?”
“I’m sure he’ll manage just fine on his own. Watch.”
The magic that had been observing the fight inside the mansion now followed Christian.
‘What is he up to this time?’