Chapter 73 - Try Loving It

[Even if the violin is cursed, all it does is make you play better, right?]

"That's exactly why it's a problem."

[A problem?]

Yu Na-gyeong tilted her head.

After all, Limon had only played the Violin of Deepest Black regularly for the first month or so. Since starting lessons with Julia, he'd gradually played it less and less, until recently he hadn't touched it at all. Na-gyeong, who knew better than anyone what kind of performance he could give with it, couldn't understand why. Limon gave her a faint smile.

"Want to hear an interesting story?"

[The stories you introduce like that never turn out to be interesting, Team Leader...]

"Suit yourself."

[Aw, now I'm curious. What's it about?]

Perhaps she simply couldn't stand not knowing. When Na-gyeong finally asked, eyes bright with curiosity, Limon began in a low voice.

"Once upon a time, there was a great swordsman. He was so skilled you could have called him the best in the world."

[Hmm. That really does sound like the beginning of an old tale.]

"One day, the swordsman acquired a sword. A divine blade that could never break, could cut through anything, and could kill an opponent with the slightest graze."

[... They had monarch-class items back then? Isn't that sword ridiculously overpowered?]

"Stop picking holes in a sword from a story and just listen, you pigeon-chicken."

[I'm not a pigeon-chicken! I'm the bluebird of dreams and hope!]

Ignoring her indignant defense of her species, Limon snorted and asked,

"So what do you think happened to the swordsman after he got the sword?"

[He conquered the world, built a harem with three wives and four concubines, lived in luxury until he got bored, then crossed into another world and played at being secretly overpowered?]

"Where the hell did you get that idea...?" Limon stared at her in disbelief.

[It's what happened in the latest chapter of the hugely popular novel I Alone Am a Monarch-Class Player.]

"... I don't know why that crap's popular. Anyway, to skip to the end, he died by the sword in a duel with his rival."

[What? I thought he was the best swordsman in the world?]

Limon readily nodded at Na-gyeong, who now looked as incredulous as he had a moment ago. "He was."

[Then how did he lose? The world's best swordsman gets a divine sword, and he should become an invincible cheat character!]

Had she gotten invested in the story? Or did she have some pent-up grievance? After passionately denouncing the story's faulty logic, Na-gyeong seemed to think of something.

[Oh, was it that old cliché? A friend or wife stole his sword and stabbed him with it? Or did he fall into a trap?]

"No. He was holding the divine sword in a fair, one-on-one duel."

[Then why did he die?!]

"The sword didn't give him a cheat. It gave him a bug."

[... What does that even mean?]

"With a sword that could kill an opponent with a nick, he spent all his time using flashy swordplay and forgot how to aim for vital points."

[How does the best swordsman in the world forget swordsmanship?]

"Swordsmanship changes depending on the sword you use."

A slender sword made for thrusting. A single-edged sword designed for sharp cuts. A greatsword built for thickness and strength. There were countless kinds of swords in the world, and swordsmanship was fundamentally devised with a particular kind in mind. Change the sword, and the swordsmanship had to change with it.

[... But don't they say a master can use any sword?]

"That's complete bullshit."

[Seriously?!]

"Yes. The better the swordsman, the more he appreciates a fine blade suited to his swordsmanship. Even the Sword Saint Kamiizumi Nobutsuna, a Sword Master himself, collected over a thousand fine swords."

Limon could cut through rock with a blade of grass, yet he always carried a sword. Why? Because carrying a familiar sword year-round was easier than going to all the trouble of using grass like a sword every time he wanted to cut something. Likewise, a fine sword made swordsmanship ten or a hundred times easier to wield than an ordinary iron blade. The keener a master's senses, the more particular he was about fine swords.

"But the fine sword a master wants is one that feels right in his hand, not some excessively powerful weapon called a divine sword or a cursed blade."

[Because it would ruin his swordsmanship?]

"Right."

Use a sword that cuts through anything, and you start relying on techniques that ignore your opponent's defenses. Use one that never breaks, and you stop caring about its durability. Use one that makes you immortal, and you forget how to protect yourself.

At first, of course, you'd feel as though you'd improved. But rely on the sword's powers for years, and your swordsmanship would eventually decline. Even if it didn't, the problem remained. What if the sword broke? What if you met an opponent its powers didn't work against? Were you supposed to spend your life worrying about losing it and fight only opponents it allowed you to fight?

That was no longer a swordsman. Just a puppet at the mercy of a divine sword, like the greatest swordsman in the old tale.

[... So that's why you're trying not to use that violin when you can? You're worried you'll end up like the swordsman who depended on his divine sword?]

"That's part of it. If this violin becomes indispensable to me, it becomes another weakness."

Right now, the Violin of Deepest Black was Limon's best means of dissolving the constellation power that had seeped into his body. If he fought the constellations someday, every one of them would be desperate to take it. Without the violin, dissolving the fragments of starlight would become harder, adding to the burden of fighting them.

"The main reason I'm learning to play is to find something that can replace it. Depending on it while I learn would defeat the whole point."

[Hmm. That's true.]

For a moment, Na-gyeong nodded, convinced by an unusually logical explanation from Limon. Then she tilted her head.

[But if that's only part of the reason, is there another?]

"There is."

[What is it?]

"My pride."

[What?]

Limon's mouth curled at the sight of the dumbfounded bluebird.

"Cursed violin or not, it pisses me off that I can't play as well as a mere tool."

[... Team Leader, a violin is an instrument. It's a tool you're supposed to use, not a rival you're supposed to pit your pride against.]

"Exactly. The little bastard's had plenty of fun playing me. Don't I deserve at least one chance to really play it?"

[That's like challenging a train to a footrace!]

"Na-gyeong, the reason people can't run faster than trains isn't that their legs are too slow. It's that they never try to get faster."

[That's because you're a lunatic, Team Leader! Normal people don't even think of anything that insane—!]

THWACK!

[Squawk!]

"Did you just call your exalted Team Leader a lunatic?"

Limon delivered divine punishment to the forehead of the furiously flapping Na-gyeong. Leaving her mumbling with stars circling her head, he folded his arms and sank into thought.

'Hmm. What am I really going to do about this?'

He'd been partly joking, but he did need to improve his playing as soon as possible. His goal was to swallow up the Seven Dragons Society and gain the strength to stand against the constellations, and that limited the time he could spend practicing. No, even if he had plenty of time, the problem would remain.

'There's definitely something suspicious about it.'

Limon gazed at the box containing the Violin of Deepest Black. People of this era might not notice, but even to someone as familiar with magical tools as he was, the violin was strange in several ways.

'It can dissolve constellation power, and every time I play it, I sense this odd presence. I can't make heads or tails of what it really is.'

The violin was said to have been made by a priest of Muse to offer music to the goddess, and the magic within it was all but a curse. Yet even after he asked Li Qingyu to investigate, they couldn't discover its exact origins. Even the old man at the amusement park who had given it to him had vanished without a trace. Limon couldn't help being suspicious of what the violin really was.

'Then again, every magical tool is suspicious... But things of unknown origin like this always seem to cause trouble.'

Once, a goblet he'd used thinking it was merely a magical tool that improved the taste of wine turned out to be a holy grail, leading to a fight with a temple. Another time, he'd acquired a mysterious ring, received pleas from powerful people to sell it, and eventually had thieves turning up at all hours. He frowned briefly as he recalled the trouble suspicious magical tools had brought him.

'Well, it'll probably be fine.'

In the end, Limon gave a wry chuckle. In this day and age, who would covet a mere magical tool that wasn't even an item? Still, time was not something he had to spare, so he decided to ask an expert for advice.

"... Lee, are you joking with me?"

"No, I'm asking seriously."

Julia was at a loss, having been hit with the question out of nowhere.

"Do you know how long you've been learning violin from me?"

"A little less than a month."

"Exactly. Just over three weeks—and that includes the time we wasted trying to teach you to read music." She sighed. "But in those three weeks, you've already surpassed music students. In technique alone, you'd be hard-pressed to find your equal even among the very best violinists."

She wasn't exaggerating. In a few dozen days, Limon had absorbed every technique she possessed—the Witch of the Violin. And that wasn't all. From instructional videos to performances posted online, he could watch another violinist play once and reproduce the performance almost perfectly, mastering their technique along with it. Even Julia, who had shown him the videos to see what would happen, had been left speechless.

"And you're asking how to learn even faster? Lee, have you no shame?"

"Is this really a matter of shame?"

"If I weren't your teacher, I'd have sued you by now."

"Sued me? For what?"

"Monopolizing talent."

"Hmm. If there were a law against that, I'd get sued a lot."

Julia gave the black-haired young man a flat look. He knew how abnormal his progress was and had agreed far too readily. But Limon pressed on, undaunted.

"I still need to improve faster. Isn't there anything I can do?"

"Practice consistently and work hard."

"What a brilliant method."

"I'm not joking, Lee." Julia's face was serious as he chuckled. "Honestly, there's nothing more I can teach you in terms of technique."

Viewed purely as a technical skill, Limon's violin playing had already reached a level all its own. The superhuman body of a Sword Master. The curse dwelling in the Violin of Deepest Black. Julia's lessons on top of those. All of it had come together to make him a player capable of handling any piece.

"To improve beyond this, you need something more than technique."

As Julia saw it, Limon was still an empty vessel. No matter how sturdy or beautiful it was, a vessel was only a vessel. For Lee to become a violinist in the fullest sense, he needed to fill it.

"Whether you find that something is what separates the very best violinists from merely first-rate ones."

"So in the end, it isn't something you can teach."

"That's right."

Julia readily admitted she had nothing more to teach Lee. From here on, it came down to raw talent: an instinctive sense for finding the answer, a sensitivity capable of drawing forth a thousand melodies, or emotions that resonated with everyone. She believed those were things a student had to discover, cultivate, and pour into the music for themselves. A teacher could only watch and make sure they didn't go astray.

"If I had to give you one piece of advice, Lee, try loving music."

"... You want me to do what?"

"Lee, you don't particularly enjoy playing, do you? You're only learning because you need it for some reason. It's a means to an end."

Perhaps she'd hit the mark. Julia smiled at Limon as he fell silent.

"Of course you can play without loving music. But if you come to love playing for its own sake..."

She wouldn't have said that to an ordinary student. But she was a violinist before she was a teacher, and a performer whose heart had raced when she discovered his talent. Julia smiled at the young man who might one day surpass her.

"Lee, you'll be able to play far better than you do now."

It was the last lesson Julia left Limon with before finishing her teaching and departing.