Chapter 75
—
“Wait, stop! Please calm down!”
I stepped forward and stopped Elize, who was about to pull back the curtain without hesitation.
I understood her overflowing confidence, but even so, charging ahead recklessly like this—
“Ahhh! If I don’t play the piano right now, my body won’t be able to take it!”
What is this? She’s not a pirate, is she?
Is it that intense? Can a slight memory boost really lead to such behaviour?
I hadn’t taken the potion myself, so I couldn’t even imagine what it felt like.
“I can feel the power!”
Even so, Elize’s attitude seemed excessively over the top.
‘Did I confuse the potions?’
Or perhaps Margrave Rosley made a mistake when he handed it over.
If not, then maybe this is the limit of magic in another world.
In other words, this potion seemed to act on the central nervous system, affecting not just memory but also anxiety and excitement.
As I reached this conclusion, my fingertips began to tremble slightly.
A hypothesis crept into my consciousness.
A drug that promotes dopamine secretion, enhances concentration, reduces impulsivity and attention deficit, and sustains an aroused state with immense vitality?
‘Isn’t this just amphetamine?’
Alchemy is the root of chemistry.
Potion-making is closer to alchemy than magic, so this could be considered a synthetic pharmaceutical made through chemistry.
I didn’t know what was mixed in, but it seemed dangerous to take it frequently.
Enhancing memory to the extreme likely shakes the brain significantly.
Perhaps it’s closer to opening up the brain entirely.
Anyway.
What is the principle of alchemy?
Equivalent exchange.
There’s no such thing as profit without risk.
With that in mind, I could only offer sincere prayers for Elize, who was still brimming with excitement.
‘Please, just survive.’
Fortunately, the situation resolved itself quickly.
Elize, now sitting calmly with a composed expression as if nothing had happened.
“Have you calmed down?”
“It’s strange. Just moments ago, it felt like I became a different person.”
It seemed that the potion’s effect started with a sharp burst and then settled into a steady state.
Since she said so herself, I had no choice but to believe it.
“Ah, what should I do?”
“What’s the matter?”
“I feel like I could deliver the performance of a lifetime today. Haha.”
Relaxed now, she even cracked jokes, humming and flicking her fingers playfully in the air.
This was the Elize I knew.
With the situation well under control and no further issues likely to arise, I led everyone back to the waiting room.
***
I stood backstage with Diana.
She was up first for today’s performance.
Just one step forward, and there would be hundreds of spectators before her eyes.
Unlike the earlier incident with Elize, Diana’s expression and demeanour were calm and composed, without needing a single word of reassurance.
There was a reason for this.
While both were debuting at a large festival for the first time, their paths were entirely different.
Their approaches to music were different.
Most importantly—
“Diana.”
“Yes.”
“Page 8, Chapter 1.”
“Curve your fingers gently and place them on the keys. Imagine holding a ball; that makes it easier.”
“Page 22, Chapter 1.”
“Legato is a technique of playing notes without breaks, with natural finger movements as you transition between notes.”
“Page 3, Chapter 2.”
“Articulation symbols.”
She seamlessly followed up by explaining accents, tenuto, and fermata.
“Good.”
“Spot on.”
I gave her a thumbs-up in response to her precise answers.
Diana was the type of person who didn’t need memory potions.
She memorized purely through effort.
Of course, it took her a very long time.
Her approach was fundamentally different from rapidly unlocking abilities through magic.
However.
The knowledge ingrained in her mind became even more perfect during the process of embodying it.
Skills and information acquired in this way never faded, no matter how much time passed.
As I often said, Diana’s strength and weakness lay in her slow but thorough approach.
While others might build a tower in three months, she’d take a year—but her tower would never collapse.
Watching her quietly made me think she was a different kind of mad genius.
“Go out there and do your best, as you always do.”
“Do you think I’ll do well?”
Though she didn’t seem nervous, she asked for reassurance.
I understood.
She wanted some encouragement.
Without a prepared line, I blurted out what came to mind.
“You deserve all the cheers you’ll get. They say sound pressure amplified indoors can even shatter windows. I hope you receive cheers loud enough to break windows.”
“Pfft! What is that supposed to mean?”
And one more thing.
This time, it was a precaution.
“There might be people spouting nonsense when you go out there.”
“Hm.”
Just this morning, baseless rumours about Diana were everywhere.
Because so little was known about her, gossipers had attached their own imaginative stories.
They spread, and spread further.
According to the rumours, Diana was my hidden sister, a young lady from a noble family, or even my betrothed.
There was even talk of her already having a child.
Yet strangely, no one ever speculated that Aria might be my child.
Why was that?
It must be because everyone already knew her background.
The orphanage.
The fact that our family had taken in Aria as a ward was already well-known in social circles.
However.
Diana was a different story.
Her origins, family connections, and past—nothing was known about her.
This was precisely why all these ridiculous rumours swirled around her.
“There’s no need to respond to each and every one of them. I’ll make my move soon enough.”
To reassure her, I spoke with a gentle, worried gaze, hoping to ease her concerns.
“…I honestly wouldn’t mind if it were true.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, you know… the sister… the engagement…”
“…”
Are you serious?
I found myself at a loss for words, frozen and unsure of how to respond.
Diana, too, fell silent after that, staring down at the floor.
‘Come to think of it.’
Aren’t they completely contradictory?
This might be off-topic, but how could rumours about being siblings coexist with rumours of being engaged?
That seems a bit dangerous.
Anyway.
“Ah! I’m late!”
Diana suddenly lifted her head, hurriedly straightening her outfit.
Edward, who had just finished the stage introduction, was gesturing from the side.
He seemed to be signaling for her to come quickly.
I was so out of it that I didn’t even catch what Edward said.
Not that it mattered much.
“I’m off!”
With a lively voice, Diana shouted as she dashed forward.
I stepped slightly off to the side of the stage to watch her.
“This is Diana Pierce!”
She greeted the audience cheerfully, bowing at a sharp 90-degree angle.
‘That’s refreshing.’
The audience didn’t seem to mind her energetic attitude, responding with applause.
It was a greeting style I’d never seen before—something of a new generation approach—but it had its charm.
Humans naturally gravitate toward the cute, lively, and polite, and Diana seemed to embody all three.
Wait.
‘…Why did I just think Diana was cute?’
Sometimes I don’t even understand myself.
Let’s move on.
“Haha!”
She laughed shyly, walking over to the piano.
The velvet dress she wore for the performance swayed gently with her movements.
Her playful demeanour disappeared the moment she sat down, her eyes shining as she fixed her gaze on the keys.
It was a familiar habit.
Think of a speed cuber solving a Rubik’s Cube in seconds.
She was mentally simulating her upcoming performance.
It was a state of intense concentration, a hallmark of many musicians, especially perfectionists.
After a moment, Diana closed her eyes and quietly murmured something.
I could only make out the shape of her lips.
But.
I instantly knew what she was saying.
‘Let it sing, not hammer.’
It was a slightly altered quote from Horowitz, something I’d once taught her.
The key to performing is conveying emotion.
Before playing a piece, a musician should consider how their music will resonate with the audience.
Will the piano merely produce sound as a mechanical instrument?
Or will it become a living entity, capable of storytelling and emotional expression?
That decision lay with her.
Finally.
Diana’s eyes opened slowly, and a melody as clear and pure as crystal began to resonate gently through the theatre.
—
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