Chapter 117
All the students froze in front of this absurd situation.
“Sol’s dad… and who else came?”
“Is His Majesty usually supposed to attend this event?”
Probably not.
After all, this is a religious event, mostly just the principal giving a short speech and that’s it—why would the king come?
Even the priest looked bewildered.
“Even if it’s the duke… ah, anyway, everyone, don’t feel pressured! We’re just here to sing for the Lord, right? Understood?”
“Yeees…”
The responses sounded half-hearted at best.
As the students frantically checked the sheet music they had secretly written on their palms, I scanned the audience.
The seats, filled with worshippers and parents, murmured at the news of new guests.
Of course, the king wasn’t sitting in the crowded audience. He was in the second-floor special box, probably unaware anyone else even existed there.
Bodyguards flanked him on both sides.
Two men sat in a space reminiscent of an opera house box.
The man on the left must be the king. I’d heard he and the duke were distant cousins, but they didn’t look alike.
If the duke resembled a sculpture made of ice, the king’s sideburns and beard were fluffy and white, like a bundle of stringy candies sold in Myeongdong.
The classmates murmured.
“He doesn’t really look like the duke.”
“Wow, he looks kind-hearted.”
No, he’s more like someone timid and cautious.
In the original story, when the Ancient Dragon went on a rampage, he left all defense to the saintess. Still, in peaceful times, he’s not a bad king.
Even now, before the chorus began, he was seriously reviewing documents.
…Wait a second. Those documents seem to be coming from the duke’s bag.
Did he really cut a royal audience short just to attend the chorus? Please, no!
At that moment, the priest shouted:
“The Gruner Class students of the Holy School will now perform a choir. First, the boys’ group choir. Everyone in the hall, please welcome them with your applause!”
From the opposite side of the stage, the boys stepped up first. They seemed just as flustered by the king’s appearance, moving awkwardly and stiffly.
The priest gave a wry smile.
“It seems our unexpected guest has made the students even more bashful. But their innocence is also a divine creation. Please forgive their small mistakes.”
The king waved at the students with a detached hand before burying his nose back in the documents. Had the duke dragged him here against his will? The duke, showing no interest in the boys, turned the pages of his own documents.
This indifference seemed to relax the boys a little. The music started, and the boys began to sing.
…Wow, they’re better than I thought. They must have practiced really hard.
The girls around me watched the stage with sparkling eyes.
From the massive pipe organ filling the wall, majestic melodies poured out, and the boys sang praises to God with voices that weren’t overpowered by the organ. Even when some missed a note or went off pitch, the waves of song carried them all.
The students’ confidence grew with each note. It was justified.
When the first choir finished, applause erupted in the audience.
“Bravo!”
“Ah, that was amazing! Are those really student voices?”
“I thought angels had descended!”
The boys’ faces flushed deep red. Their innocent expressions made the audience laugh even more.
The priest who had been guiding the girls whispered to us.
“See? The audience is kind, and the performers are skilled. So even if you make mistakes, it’s okay. Are you all ready?”
“Yes!”
The girls, caught up in the excitement, responded with smiles. Soon, we went onto the stage. Applause broke out immediately.
“Ladies, welcome!”
“Oh my, how cute!”
“Will the saintess be born this year?”
At those words, the children stiffened with tension.
Ah, damn. The priest tricked us.
He said small mistakes would be covered by the others’ singing? But the girls have solo parts!
The organ started, and our mouths opened just as we had practiced. Of course, I was no exception.
Unlike the boys’ sometimes rough and uneven voices, the girls’ voices flowed gently like a stream. The organ music also softened compared to before.
Some audience members closed their eyes and smiled. I wished I could feel so relaxed.
Duke Schlager.
You were just using their singing as background music for your work! Why are you sitting upright, staring at us the second the girls start singing? Your eyes look like they’re shooting lasers!
Wait, don’t point at the king to show him us! The old man will get flustered too!
I was speechless at the absurdity. Thankfully, it was a chorus—I could hide in the collective singing.
The choir song neared its end. The students’ voices paused, and the organ filled the space.
At that moment, the curtains covering the tall windows in the sanctuary were drawn back.
Beyond the windows loomed a massive bell, ancient and scarred with oxidation. Its surface startled some of the students. The wooden supports around it were old and frail, looking more fit for firewood than for holding a bell.
Yet when the saintess sang, that bell would move its old body to welcome its master’s incarnation.
The priest gestured. The other students began humming. One by one, starting from the back, students received veils from the priest and took their assigned places.
On a day when the sun was highest and longest, sunlight streaming through the bell tower fell golden on the veil of the student in front.
Even if the bell didn’t ring…
Anyone singing in that position would look like a saintess.
I watched, mesmerized, even while humming.
The audience felt the same. Especially the families of the students—they looked like they were seeing angels.
The solo part didn’t last long.
At most, after eight bars, the priest gestured, and the next girl stepped forward.
Next. And next.
My turn was approaching.
The bell would ring when Seraphina sang, but maybe the tension from the other girls was contagious—I felt my palms getting clammy.
…Honestly, the duke’s partly to blame. He keeps redirecting my attention if the king glances up from his documents.
Stop it! It’s too stressful!
Alright, it’s fine. The song will be over soon. I’ll just wait for Seraphina to become the saintess.
King, I’m not sure if the duke brought you here to show off his little girl, but your timing is perfect—you’re about to witness the birth of the saintess live.
I looked at Seraphina. She was staring at the bell tower, unaware of me. I followed her gaze…
…Huh?
Didn’t something just move behind the bell tower?
Some kind of rope—
“Sol! Sol! It’s your turn!”
Gulp. Already?
Betty poked my back.
I rushed forward. The shadow of the bell tower helped me find my position.
…No. Something’s wrong. The shadow looks different than before, like something has been added to the bell tower.
Uneasy, I sang as trained.
“Wave of disbelief, wave, even if you swallow the sands, swallow—”
I hit a wrong note. Someone snickered in the audience. Doesn’t matter. Just two more lines.
“The steps of the faithful, steps, upon the shining stone—”
…What comes after “stone”? My mind went blank.
But that wasn’t the problem.
Deng… deng…
At first, I thought the organist made a mistake.
But as the audience turned to look outside rather than at the organ, I realized where the damn sound was coming from.
“No way…”
“Has the saintess’s miracle happened?”
The bell rang.
The bell that only regained its true role when the saintess sang.
The sound was more of a crash than a performance, but people heard it as a beautiful miracle.
Murmurs spread. Someone knelt to pray. The priest was at a loss. The duke and king leapt from their seats.
But no, I’m not a saintess.
…I remembered the shadow behind the bell tower. I felt a bad premonition.
<Ah, predictable development.>
And what I saw next—
“Everyone, get off the stage!”
The organ stopped, and my cracking voice boomed through the sanctuary.
But nobody moved. Someone dazedly whispered, “Saintess?”
Damn it!
I grabbed an older priest by the collar to break the warm, miracle-expecting mood.
“Sol, Sol!?”
“It’s not a miracle! Someone just climbed the bell tower and shook the bell!”
“What?”
“But the wooden frame holding the bell was rotted… the weight of the bell—”
I didn’t need to say more.
The sunlight that had been streaming through the bell tower now cast a spreading black shadow.
The bell, forced to swing by someone, tore loose, swinging side to side…
…and crashed through the sanctuary window.
The noise was ear-splitting. Wood, stone, and dust collapsed inside.
Seraphina moved quickly, guiding the children. One by one, they jumped off the stage into the arms of their families.
The audience would be fine.
The king was already surrounded by bodyguards.
But the duke—
Hey, why are you standing on the railing? Planning to jump from the second floor? Really? Take care of your body at that age!
<Ah, predictable development.>
…Damn.
The one I should have worried about wasn’t the duke.
I tried to run toward the audience, but it was too late.
Fate, laughing at my struggles to avoid the joust, seemed intent on killing me.
Deng, deng, deng.
The bell rolled across the stage, growing louder…
