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Back in the day when Conra was being taught the Druid’s vision by his father, Setanta, there was a question Setanta threw at Conra. The question went like this:

“Do you even know what the Druid training is all about?”

It was a question meant to make Conra realize what he was actually trying to learn, but ironically, Conra found it hard to answer properly.

And who could blame him? Sure, he could just call it “Druid training,” but the reality was that what he needed to learn through that training was neither simple nor easy.

For a Druid’s disciple to fully become a Druid, there was a mountain of things to learn.

Being a Spellcaster was just one tiny aspect of being a Druid. At times, they had to step into the realm of Bards, who were poets and historians, or even into the roles of priests, prophets, healers, and apothecaries.

And that wasn’t all. In traditional Erin society, the roles demanded of a Druid were numerous. They had to be priests, diviners, teachers, philosophers, lawmakers, political advisors, astronomers, chemists, biologists, musicians, poets, doctors, judges—basically, they had to handle almost every role expected of an “intellectual” in the community.

The amount of knowledge required and the depth of insight needed to practically apply it wasn’t something you could cultivate overnight. Naturally, it took about 15 to 20 years to develop all these qualities, and even that wasn’t considered enough time.

In essence, Druid training was about cultivating a sharp intellect that spanned both the humanities and sciences, along with a wild, untamed nature that grew from the wilderness, all while nurturing a unique spirituality.

Of course, this training also included developing the skills of a bard and poet.

In an era where history and philosophical ideas were preserved orally, songs were the perfect medium for both preservation and dissemination. Naturally, Druids needed to be bards, singers, and poets to pass on the lessons they learned from history and nature.

This was also reflected in the Druid’s spellcasting system. The so-called “bardic magic,” often considered the domain of minstrels, was something you could learn in Druid training, which wasn’t strange at all.

“Oh, let us now praise the glorious lords who ruled over Predain and Predon! The king of Dyfed, he who restored the authority of the Fairy King Arawn, Peredur Pen Annwn! His heroic deeds were worthy of serving the High King!”

The principle of bardic magic was fundamentally about appealing to the heart and reflecting it in the body. Through melody and lyrics, the singer’s imagery was projected into the listener’s mind, and the resulting resonance of power would force a spell effect onto the opponent’s body.

Thus, bardic magic naturally developed as a way to inflict curses and various debuffs. But if you could create ways to debuff, you could also devise ways to buff yourself or dispel debuffs.

The best way to dispel a curse was to elevate your fighting spirit and determination, leaving no room for dark, malevolent energies to cling to you.

Unlike other ordinary Druids who were content with just the basics, Conra had reached the highest level as a bard, inheriting the Golden Branch from his father, Setanta. He had mastered 100 combinations of Ogham letters, 115 tales, 175 repertoires, 158 poems, over 120 essays, 12 philosophical lessons, various poetic forms, and grammar.

For Conra, finding and singing a song to elevate his fighting spirit and determination was as easy as eating porridge. And with the support of the Spirit Esras-Hermes, a spiritual being who, like Conra, possessed the qualities of both a Grand Druid and a Grand Alchemist from the Silver Age, it was even easier.

{Leave the detailed control of the main strength to me. Focus on the bardic magic itself.}

‘I’ll leave it to you.’

Soon, the giant’s majestic voice and the boy’s clear, pre-pubescent voice began to intertwine.

The majestic voice spoke of surrender, while the clear voice advocated for struggle. The majestic voice mentioned hardship and giving up, while the clear voice presented aspiration and overcoming.

If there had been any other listener besides Conra and the giant, they would have honestly said that Conra was no match for the giant. Whether in vocal technique or the weight and depth of the song, Conra’s performance couldn’t compare to the giant’s.

Conra knew this too. Yet, he had his own strengths to show.

First was the precision of his pitch. Being both a Druid and an Alchemist, Conra valued cycles and balance. While Druids focused on the worldview of cycles and balance, Alchemists maintained an objective and strict view of matter, mastering its changes to elevate the spirit and soul.

This characteristic was fully reflected in Conra’s singing. He held an absolute pitch standard in his heart, ensuring his pitch never wavered, and if it did, he could quickly return to the correct range.

This recovery process was seamless and natural, thanks to his Druidic qualities.

Second was the ‘Sound Kung Fu’ he had learned from his master, Sophia.

Unlike ‘bardic magic,’ which developed as a way to manifest spell power through music, ‘Sound Kung Fu’ was a somewhat twisted idea born from swordsmen who applied their competitive mindset to melody and music.

From the perspective of competing for dominance on the stage of existing musical compositions, there was no more fitting skill.

Thus, on the stage of the harp’s melody, the giant and Conra’s songs clashed for dominance. At times, they harmonized with each other’s voices to better suit the melody, and at other times, they deliberately created dissonance to disrupt each other’s songs, engaging in an intense, invisible battle.

The giant stopped singing when the competition reached its peak.

“——Sing of your anger!”

Clang!

In an instant, Conra felt a sense of omnipotence, as if he controlled the entire space. The sensation that the entire boss room, from one end to the other, was now his domain.

At the same time, Conra realized the giant had chosen his own death. When one of the two competing forces disappears, the other naturally sweeps through the void. Especially since the song Conra had been singing was the epic ‘Mabinogion,’ which sang of a history of bloodshed.

In an instant, the ‘main strength’ flowing through the song and the ‘internal strength’ of Sound Kung Fu surged toward the giant like a torrent. Conra could no longer control it; this was beyond his control. The torrent of power, carried by the music, struck the defenseless giant.

A mist of blood sprayed out. The giant, coughing and foaming at the mouth, staggered and then collapsed, sitting down weakly. He chuckled faintly.

“Kuh, kuh… What a farce. My life has truly been a farce. Oh world, you fickle world, I resent you, but I can’t bring myself to hate you.”

The giant bard, a relic of the age of strife, had become a wraith of the past, singing of escape and delusion, only to collapse before the song of struggle from a bard of the present. If this wasn’t a farce, what was? If this wasn’t fickle, what was?

“Then… since my role is done… it’s time for this actor… to exit… the stage…”

The giant, sitting and coughing, slowly took his last breath. In his mind, memories of the past he could never forget surfaced. The city square welcoming warriors returning from battle, the highest stage where the glory of warriors was praised, the most radiant scene of all.

As his consciousness faded, the giant gradually became one with that scene.

Finally, as the giant’s breath ceased, his body began to dissolve into light. The light split into several strands, some of which swirled around Conra before being absorbed.

As the light was absorbed, Conra felt a new layer of potential awaken in his bones, and his ethereal muscles and brain were nourished. Depending on his future training, this event would significantly impact his growth.

The remaining strands of light twisted together and disappeared toward the back of the boss room, heading toward the artifact chamber.

Conra stood silently for a moment, paying his respects. Music reveals a person’s life and values. Through the song battle with the giant, Conra had come to understand the giant’s dreams, desires, sorrows, and the bittersweet realization he had at the end.

{He was a very sentimental man.}

“Indeed. It’s hard to believe he lived in the Bronze Age, given how sensitive he was.”

{Well, not everyone in our era was a battle-crazed lunatic. No matter the era, they were all individuals, each with their own lives.}

Agreeing with Rugus-Artaeus, Conra swallowed a new wave of emotion.

A man who lived his life as a bard, transcending time to pour out his life’s story. Though Conra couldn’t fully empathize with the giant’s life, he could at least understand that such a life existed. And if so, wasn’t it fitting to offer some form of tribute?

While it was unknown how Jack O’Lantern had defeated the giant bard and claimed the artifact in the original timeline, Conra hoped that this ending held some meaning for the giant. Even if this was just a scene recreated by the dungeon, the actors playing their roles had their own sincerity.

After a brief moment of tribute, Conra headed toward the artifact chamber where the strands of light had led.

From the now-open artifact chamber, the soft sound of the harp still flowed. Following the sound, Conra finally found his target at the center of the chamber.

The harp, originally separated into the Astral Realm by a massive flow of main strength, now had a clear mass and form in the real world. The light from the giant’s death had clearly dispersed the flow of main strength.

In the original history, Jack O’Lantern might have used the giant’s ring to dispel the main strength, but in the dungeon’s recreated gimmick, the artifact was naturally released upon the boss’s death.

As Conra approached the harp still floating in the air, supported by the surrounding main strength, his steps quickened. With only the Divine Sword Catena left, the dungeon’s conquest was within reach.

But just as the boy’s hand finally touched the harp, Rugus-Artaeus’s urgent warning snapped him out of his complacency.

{It’s coming. Get ready!}

Without time to question what the warning was about, Conra reflexively hugged the harp, lowered his stance, and gripped his spear.

And in the next moment, before he could even realize the music from the harp had stopped, a bone-chilling roar shook the space, and a violent tremor struck the tower.

 

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