Chapter 80
Just before the meeting with Sordinang was finalized.
Because of PTSD from his past life.
Kim Yul had been needlessly intimidated by the title of professor.
“Oh! You’re that genius Ulysses! A pleasure! Haha, I’m truly delighted to meet you like this!”
“Ah, yes... nice to meet you.”
“Honestly, I’ve never seen a genius like you! Did you perhaps learn demon language separately? And now that I think of it, black hair! Black hair! Are you perhaps mixed with demon blood?!”
“...I’m a pure human.”
“Oh! My apologies! That only makes you even more amazing!”
Insane levels of tension.
In his eyes, pure admiration and... madness.
And an obsession with scholarship that made it seem as though he had been born with academia’s silver spoon in his mouth.
Even though they had only talked for a short while, Kim Yul could feel his energy draining away.
But oddly enough, that was actually a welcome thing.
Unfortunately, Kim Yul’s advisor was closer to a polyfessor than a professor.
And that left something to be desired when it came to satisfying the scholarly appetite of Kim Yul, that truly unhinged undergraduate researcher.
A man who approached scholarship with such passion had to be a good person, no question.
In a thoroughly humanities-major sort of way, Kim Yul began to feel a little fondness for him.
So.
He took out the materials he’d prepared to pass on to Sordinang.
“Oh, oh! That is, could it be!”
At that intense reaction, Kim Yul hesitated for a moment, but.
His decision was swift.
“If you want to see it now, I’d be a bit embarrassed, so please look at it later—after you’ve passed away.”
Sordinang was trembling under a surging scholarly fever, but.
Even so, despite the young man’s earnest plea, he couldn’t bring himself to open the research material right away.
“Good! Then, then! The two of us—no, you said the Three Kingdoms, right? Let’s talk Three Kingdoms!”
“Gasp.”
Kim Yul couldn’t help but feel his heart leap.
For a certified Three-Kingdoms fossil, ‘someone to talk Three Kingdoms with!’ was one of the greatest pleasures the country could ever allow...!
.
.
.
After a dense, deeply drawn-out Three Kingdoms discussion that would have made Historie foam at the mouth and faint by now if she’d been there.
“This, this! This is exactly the kind of situation where a bond like water and fish fits!”
“Haha. Too kind.”
A pleased smile spread across Kim Yul’s lips.
Talking about the Three Kingdoms with someone other than Historie or Chloe gave Kim Yul an enormous sense of intellectual satisfaction.
But.
“Ah! Come to think of it, you said you were still young! How about it? In about a year, you could probably be appointed as a full professor, so please, to our graduate school──”
“I refuse.”
The fondness he’d built up through his Three-Kingdoms banter dropped to zero in an instant.
.
.
.
On the way back.
Sordinang immediately opened the research notebook Ulysses had handed him.
And then.
“Agh, heh-heh-heh-heh...!”
A tremendous thrill, as if the back of his neck had been sharply tugged.
Not only were the research findings he’d painstakingly uncovered in academia neatly compiled,
Even the meanings of demon-language words whose reading or meaning had not yet been properly established had been inferred.
What was even more astonishing was this.
Assuming those inferences were correct, every sentence whose meaning had been impossible to grasp until now could all be smoothly connected into a coherent whole...!
And.
This incredible man, this age-gifted genius named Ulysses.
Not only did he possess the breadth of learning to sort demon-language words out so meticulously.
“Heaven, earth, the dark and the yellow—the heavens are boundless and black, and the earth is yellow......”
He had gathered the demon-language words as if crafting a single line of poetry.
and fashioned them by drawing on the principles of the world.
“Agh, agh, agh...!”
Sordinang was so deeply shaken and delighted that he twisted himself in the street.
* * *
While Sordinang, after returning to the Republic, declared closed-door training and stayed shut up alone in his laboratory for a long stretch, chewing over the meanings of the Heavenly Demon Divine Art and the Thousand Character Classic Kim Yul had given him.
The protagonist woven from Kim Yul’s words.
The boy Beethoven, too, grew into a young man.
He gained inspiration and met new people on his first trip to Vienna, the center of art.
After his mother’s death, and once the father who had long held Beethoven back was suspended from his duties, he began taking on the role of head of the family.
Physically too.
Mentally too.
In the fast-paced tempo unique to serialized novels, he raised his performance and composition skills at the same time in a doting, praise-soaked progression that left those around him marveling and showering him with praise.
By the time readers were getting used to a story that had, in a way, settled into a near-one-pattern rhythm.
“France?”
“France? The country of Joan of Arc?”
“A revolution by the people, huh.”
As the era surrounding the protagonist gradually changed, and the incomprehensible idea called Enlightenment faintly seeped into Beethoven’s thinking.
Moving from the early-game region into a tougher new area is a cliché that appears very often, whether in games or novels.
Like Poké■mon Master ■Jiwoo, who resets his memory and heads off to the next installment.
Beethoven left Bonn and headed for Vienna, Wien.
But some sharp-tongued critics had begun to air their complaints about the story’s progression.
“Isn’t it just the same old one-pattern development again?”
“He goes there, composes, succeeds, performs, gets praised. That’s all it is. If this were a hero’s tale, each enemy would at least be a little different, but these are all just musicians anyway.”
“Hmm... could the way parents function like shackles perhaps be similar to the author’s life── ugh! Ugh! Ugh!”
“You bastard, are you seriously making a crack about someone’s parents?”
“Get out of the salon right now! You’re exiled!”
Of course, the community cleaned itself up too.
“You bastards, what gives you the right to run your mouths like that! If Ulysses stops releasing new works because of this, who’s going to take responsibility?”
“From now on I withdraw my support for Ulysses. Starting today, I sever my supporter ties and become one body with Ulysses. Any attack on Ulysses will be considered an attack on me......!”
“You clowns who don’t even know art think you can act high and mighty just because you can read! Go listen to Mozart or something! There’s a free concert in the square today, too!”
Musicians.
Especially among pianists, Ulysses began to be revered.
Of course, the chance that all of it had been created by a single person, and moreover by the hand of a novelist who didn’t seem to have had any musical training at all, was slim.
They were only guessing that perhaps a musician unfortunate enough to have been born in the wrong era, or some anonymous master, had become the model for Beethoven.
Either way, what does it matter?
The score is cheap and the music is delicious.
Five stars. Definitely buying again.
But from a storytelling-technical standpoint.
It was also true that the same pattern was repeating to some extent.
“Hmm......”
Even to Nureongi, who was evolving into Poppy, a little of that was visible.
“Still, it was Kim Yul!”
Since he still hadn’t given up on Kim Yul, Estea got up at dawn again today, far too diligent for a dragon, and bought Novelpia at the newsstand.
Skipping over the first- and second-place novels.
She started with ‘Beethoven,’ which was, unfortunately, still stuck in third place.
## ====== ##
…….
…….
Alsergrund District.
In a shabby attic room.
Beethoven was writing the score by the light of a single candle.
The chill sweeping through the room was cold enough to make his breath come out in puffs, but it wasn’t enough to stop his inspiration.
Of course, this result was sure not to please his teacher either.
Was his teacher even planning to teach him at all?
His first teacher.
It was Haydn, who had built an immortal reputation in the music world, but musical talent and teaching ability were two different things.
Above all...
The passion still burning in his chest.
Far from fanning that flame, which seemed as though it would never cool, into something even more brilliant,
he had instead taken him in as a disciple and then failed to give him proper attention.
- This should be enough if I fix it like this.
- Hmm? This piece has quite a few errors.
Even when looking at the score he had written in youthful bravado, he was indifferent, and the one who pointed out the errors wasn’t even his teacher but Teacher Schenk.
Beethoven set down his pen as if tossing it away and rubbed his frozen hands together.
Today, the cold felt especially harsh.
Then.
Knock, knock, knock──
“Who’s there?”
At the sound of unfamiliar footsteps and knocking at the door,
Beethoven opened the door, wariness carved into his eyes.
There.
“Are you Ludwig van Beethoven?”
A butler in splendid livery stood there.
Clothes fit for the noble house that hosted the social gatherings Beethoven was sometimes invited to—an entirely different world from this moldy little attic room.
The butler’s gaze swept Beethoven from head to toe.
By contrast, Beethoven’s matted hair, slightly worn clothes, rustic-sounding accent, and not-particularly-tall build all stood out.
With a somewhat condescending look, the butler tossed him an envelope with a seal stamped on it.
“Tonight there will be a concert at Count Schönborn’s manor. Can you attend?”
Beethoven had read that look too.
And his personality was nowhere near gentle enough to endure it.
“I’m busy. If you’re done, get lost.”
Whether his backing was a count or whatever,
he had no intention of bowing his head and letting it slide.
Just as Beethoven was about to slam the door shut.
The butler blocked the gap, a mocking grin curling at his lips.
“So the rumor that Haydn’s disciple has a temper like fire is true.”
Beethoven ground his teeth and bit back the urge to throw a punch.
Either way.
“Tonight’s concert is a piano competition. There are pianists waiting there who want to see whether you, the genius said to succeed Mozart, can even reach his shadow.”
Seeing Beethoven’s eyes waver for an instant.
The butler took that emotion to be fear.
And he swallowed his disappointment.
“If you’re scared, you don’t have to come. There were plenty of opinions that you’d run away anyway. Well then.”
The moment he turned away.
“Wait.”
Beethoven growled and flung the door wide open.
A chilling vitality spilled from his body, like that of a starving beast that has finally caught the scent of blood after a very long time.
“I was just wondering about the skill of Vienna’s pianists. Perfect. Shall I get ready now?”
At that reversal in momentum.
Only then did the butler let out a satisfied laugh and bow politely.
“Then I’ll take it that you’re participating in the piano competition, Mr. Ludwig van Beethoven. The carriage is ready, so shall we depart at once?”
At the abruptly changed attitude.
Only then did Beethoven realize he had been tested.
But it didn’t matter.
Piano competition.
How creatively and dazzlingly can you turn a theme given on the spot into a piece or a variation?
Or can you sight-read an opponent’s prepared score and show an interpretation that is flawless, or even far beyond the original piece?
He had heard plenty about it, but this was the first time he had been given the chance.
“Please allow me a moment to fix my wig and clothes.”
“That much is fine.”
Suddenly Beethoven recalled Lorhen’s voice from just before he left Bonn, after a fierce argument.
- Keep your dignity wherever you go, Beethoven. People won’t be ignoring your talent; they’ll be ignoring your appearance.
He had said the very same thing.
His shabby appearance certainly would not have looked like that of a musician worthy of respect.
But Beethoven’s mind had not changed.
Only music.
Only music was truth.
So.
To Vienna’s polished pianists who couldn’t even reach Mozart’s toes.
This was his chance to let them hear true music.
## ====== ##
“Heehee!”
Estea let out a satisfied laugh.
At the same time.
“Hmm, a piano competition...!”
Like she had found a new toy.
Estea’s vertically slit pupils gleamed.