Chapter 86

There it is… that child.

“Keep the image that the melody creates in your mind vivid.”

Violet was in the middle of a lesson.
Jonas approached it with utmost seriousness.
His usual innocent demeanor was nowhere to be seen.

A gentle, pleasant breeze—like something you might feel in the mountains or fields—flowed quietly through the study.

Violet greeted Isaac, who had just entered, with a glance.
Isaac returned the greeting with a nod.

The lesson didn’t last long.

“Let’s stop here for today. The young master has arrived.”
“Oh, hyung. When did you get here?”
“A while ago.”

Isaac smiled faintly.

“Did you watch me?”
“Yeah. You were really good.”

“Hehe…”

Jonas smiled shyly.

“I’ve never seen anyone carry mana through sound in such a way. With the Second Young Master’s talent, he’d rank among the best even in the Republic. At this rate, opening your Mind’s Eye won’t take long.”

Violet praised him.

It was, admittedly, a bit of a shortcut.

Resonating with spirits is normally done through spirit language—based on ancient tongues.
In other words, one must use a language that spirits can understand.

But in Jonas’s case, he used sound instead.

More precisely—music.

The emotions conveyed by sound are universal. They reach not only all people, but spirits as well.
Of course, that only works if the sound is infused with mana.
Even reaching that level can take years—sometimes over a decade.

Yet Jonas achieved it in just a few days.

“You’ve worked hard, Violet.”
“Then I’ll take my leave.”

After bowing, Violet stepped aside and left.

“Jonas, want to play the piano together?”
“Really? Really?!”

Jonas’s eyes sparkled.

Before Isaac’s abnormal condition manifested, the three of them used to play the piano together here every day.
But after Mrs. Goethe left in search of a cure, and Isaac began suffering from his condition, those days came to an end.

Jonas had always missed those times, often replaying the songs they used to play.
Isaac knew that too.
Every time he passed the shared study and heard the music, his steps would grow heavy.

“…Yeah.”

Isaac nodded and glanced at Jonas’s right hand.

In his past life, Jonas had tried to play the lute for his sleepless older brother—and lost his right hand.
It had been torn apart by Isaac’s mana explosion.

Fearing he might hurt his loved ones again, Isaac had confined himself somewhere he could harm no one.

“Hyung?”

Jonas, already seated and opening the piano lid, looked up at Isaac blankly—then with concern.

“If you’re still hurting… you don’t have to play.”
“I’m fine. That’s not something you need to worry about.”

Isaac ruffled Jonas’s hair.

—It meant he could stay a child a little longer. That it was okay to be spoiled.

For a moment, Isaac recalled what his father had said in the carriage after Randolph’s funeral.
Only now did he feel he understood it.
That was how Isaac felt, looking at Jonas.

“So, what should we play? The Snow-Crying Dragon? Summer Waltz? Wanderer’s Song?”
“Summer Waltz!”

At the familiar titles, Jonas answered excitedly.

“Then I’ll start the accompaniment.”

One, two, three. One, two, three.

Isaac began a lively triple-time bass accompaniment.

When was the last time I played the piano?

The smooth, cool touch of the ivory keys.
The tension felt with each press.
The sound of hammers striking steel strings.

For Isaac, it had been decades.

And yet, the memory etched into his body hadn’t faded.

His accompaniment was steady, flawless.
Over it, Jonas began weaving the melody.

It felt like dancing.
Or like lovers bursting into laughter.

Once again, a breeze began to blow.
A fresh wind carrying the scent of grass.

“…As expected.”

Such wind could never be created by minor spirits.

—“Brother, my magical talent wasn’t particularly outstanding. But I had something others didn’t. It’s a shame I only realized it after surpassing my limits.”

Those were the words of an older Jonas, reminiscing.

And they were true.
Jonas’s magical talent was average—perhaps slightly above.

Yet after the Count’s death, Jonas protected Goethe—now a city-state—until the day he died.

—“At some point, people started calling me the ‘Winter Lord.’”

Now Isaac finally understood what that meant.

The wind that followed the piano’s melody—
there was a source behind it.

Isaac intended to awaken that power now, not at forty as before.

The waltz ended on a major chord.
As Jonas slowly opened his eyes, the wind subsided.

“That was fun. Playing with you, hyung.”
“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Want to play a few more?”
“Sure!”

Old piano pieces they had played long ago.
The faded memories resurfaced in Isaac’s mind.

Even without thinking, his fingers moved first.

It felt like returning to those cherished days.

Jonas’s emotions deepened.
Denser mana infused the tone.
The wind grew stronger.

Some songs carried the scent of spring.
Others brought a chill sharp enough to freeze the lungs.

By the time the piece known in ancient language as —
and in the common tongue as —was nearing its end…

Tears welled up in Jonas’s eyes.

“Why are you crying?”
“Something keeps coming to mind.”

“What is it?”
“People keep dying. Children are scared. Some starve to death, others freeze.”

This was the moment Isaac had been waiting for.

“Do you remember what kind of people they were?”
“I think they were tribespeople. They fight among themselves… and sometimes monsters appear…”
“Do those scenes appear every time you play?”
“Not always… only when I get deeply immersed, like today.”

What Jonas saw wasn’t something he imagined himself.

It must be the spirit’s memory.

Around Jonas hovered a spirit—one that had form, but no identity.
It was the very foundation of the power that would one day earn him the title Winter Lord.

But right now, even Violet—who had opened her Mind’s Eye—couldn’t see it.

Because it had no identity.

A spirit’s form comes from its identity.

Someone had to recognize that identity—and give it a name.

That was the key to awakening Jonas’s talent.

“Jonas. When those scenes appear… is there anything that shows up every time?”
“Huh? Every time?”

Jonas asked back.

“It doesn’t have to be a person. It could be an object, an animal, a monster… Even if the scenes change, something that always appears.”

“Think carefully.”

“…Ah! Now that I think about it, there was a child.”

After a long pause, Jonas spoke.

“A child?”
“Yeah.”

“What kind of child? Describe them.”

“They’re always just standing still. No expression. Short brown hair… and really pretty eyes.”

Jonas slowly described the child from his mind.

“There’s a mole next to their eye… dimples… and soft cheeks…”

It was far too detailed to be mere imagination.

Isaac was certain.

The child Jonas described—
was the spirit, personified.

The child’s form was likely a composite—an accumulation of features from the people the spirit had observed until now.

“Then do you know the child’s name?”
“No… I don’t.”

Jonas shook his head.

A contract with a spirit begins with knowing its true name—its real name.
The summoner calls that name, and if the spirit responds, the contract is complete.

Spirits of a certain rank all possess their own true names.
Those names can arise from the rhythm of nature, from legends, from human language, from the cries of magical beasts, or even from the voices of otherworldly beings.

Through that true name, a spirit gains its identity.

But the spirit circling Jonas had form, yet no true name.

It existed, but its essence had not been defined.

There was no way of knowing why.

Perhaps it needed more coincidences.
Perhaps more time.
Or perhaps it had something to do with the northern demon territories or the Black Forest.

There was no need to know that much.

“Have you ever thought about what that child’s name might be?”
“A name? Hmm… I’ve never really thought about it.”

If it didn’t have a name, then it could simply be given one.
Whether the spirit would accept it was uncertain—but it was worth trying.

“Then from now on, try thinking of a name that suits that child.”

***

“...Haa.”

Isaac woke in the middle of the night from a nightmare.

It wasn’t unusual.

There were mountains of things Goethe would have to overcome.
The weight of that burden often disrupted his sleep.

Isaac opened the window of his bedroom.
Outside, overlooking the courtyard, it was pitch dark.

A cold wind blew in.
The chill spread as his cold sweat dried.

He sank into thought.

He had to stop the rampage of the Spirit King.
To do that, Jonas needed to form a contract with a spirit.

The very spirit that would one day earn Jonas the title Winter Lord.

It must be a powerful spirit.

But was it the spirit’s excellence that brought Jonas such fame?
Or was it Jonas’s own exceptional spirit mastery?

That, for now, was impossible to know.

“…If possible, I wanted him to contract with an even better spirit.”

Isaac muttered.

A spirit summoner can only form a contract with one spirit—and once it’s made, it cannot be undone.

That was why Isaac wanted Jonas to contract with a top-tier spirit.
But for now, preventing the disaster at the upcoming event was the priority.

Once a contract is formed, the Mind’s Eye opens, and mana capacity increases dramatically.
Because the summoner shares the spirit’s abilities.

That alone would be enough to identify all the visitors who would gather at the event.

Isaac closed the window and lay back down.

Just as he was about to drift into a light sleep—

“Hyung… hyung.”

He opened his eyes at the sound of knocking.

“Hyung… hyung.”

It was Jonas’s voice.

Isaac wondered if this was a dream—or perhaps a ghost’s prank.

Because not once had Jonas ever come to his room in the middle of the night.

“…Ugh.”

Isaac rubbed his face dry and got up.
When he opened the door, Jonas stood there in his nightclothes, holding a lantern and looking up at him.

“What’s going on at this hour?”
“…Hyung, can you come somewhere with me?”
“Where?”

“It’s not far from here.”

Isaac stared at him.

It was definitely Jonas.
His sharpened senses—enhanced by the Wolf King’s relic—confirmed everything, from his appearance to his scent.
Not a ghost. Not a dream.

It was really Jonas.

“Where are you planning to go at this hour? Let’s wait until morning. I’ll go with you then.”
“No! It has to be now.”

Jonas grabbed Isaac’s arm.

There was desperation in his eyes.
They were red and swollen.

“We have to go now.”

“…Why?”
“I’ll explain on the way.”

“….”

Isaac scratched his forehead.

His answer had already been decided from the start.
Protect the family, and push Jonas toward the path he desired—that was why he existed here.

“…Alright. Let’s go. It’s cold, so put on a coat.”

Avoiding the night guards, Isaac led Jonas out of the estate.
Sneaking out was nothing new—he’d been confined often due to mana explosions.

“This way.”

Jonas took the lead.

Northwest of the estate—slightly off the path toward Black Goose Village.

“You actually know where you’re going?”

Isaac asked, following Jonas, who walked as if entranced.

Before long, they entered a forest where ash and oak trees stretched toward the night sky.
It was also near the abandoned mine once inhabited by winter spiders.

Not a place Jonas should have known.

That made it strange.

“We’re here.”

Jonas spoke in a hollow voice and stepped off the path into untrodden ground.

“This way?”
“Yeah.”

“I’ll go first.”

Isaac pushed through the undergrowth, clearing a path in the direction Jonas pointed.

After some time—

“…Here.”

Jonas stopped.

It was a clearing.

Or rather, a place where a stone structure might once have stood—collapsed walls still forming a rough square.
Moss and vines tangled everywhere.

Unlike the dense forest around it, this spot had overgrown shrubs up to the waist, with a single poplar tree standing tall in the middle.

“…It’s here.”

Jonas spoke softly.

“That child.”