The Mighty Dragons Are Dead

The piano, an instrument that requires exquisite craftsmanship to produce, it is unknown when exactly it was invented.

Many people believe that the piano originated from the Moon Empire—a civilization that disappeared thousands of years ago, whose historical truths have long been distorted to the point that anything and everything can be attributed to the Moon Empire.

Self-proclaimed nobles cannot live without music.

And among all forms of music, it is the piano that nobles value the most, with many of them learning to play from a young age; for instance, the former Liszt spent no small amount of time at the piano.

His sister, Li Vera, played the piano well, and his cousin Meioubao was even more of a piano enthusiast.

Even some of the lesser nobles would scrimp and save to buy a piano for entertainment. Many younger sons of noble families, with no hope of inheriting a title and fearful of the battlefield, would turn their attention to the piano, practicing hard to master its play and become pianists.

After becoming pianists, they could continue to mingle in high society.

It’s not uncommon for pianists to attract the favor of noble young ladies with their charm.

Famous piano performers, even within the court, receive considerable attention. And those pianists who can compose their own pieces are without exception called masters, welcomed by nobles everywhere they go, along with furtive glances from young ladies.

Liszt enjoyed such treatment with his performance of “For Alice” at Long Taro Castle.

The nobility’s craze for pianos directly spawned a group of Iron Knights whose profession is to make pianos—Iron Knights are Dou Qi practitioners who craft magical weapons, gemstone weapons, and other equipment. They do not go into battle or practice combat skills, devoting themselves instead to forging weapons, regarded as advanced blacksmiths.

Those Iron Knights who make pianos are known as Piano Knights.

Only families of at least Marquis status have the financial ability to train a Piano Knight capable of making a qualified piano—every piano is equivalent to a magic weapon.

The cheapest piano costs at least ten Gold Coins.

As a result, many pianists start with second-hand pianos.

There were several pianos at Tulip Castle. Unfortunately, the Earl did not give any of them to Liszt, so after traversing to this world, Liszt did not discover the “Piano King Liszt” that lay deep within his soul.

“Could it be that the piano piece I played freely at Long Taro Castle has released the Piano King within me, prompting this Smoke Mission?”

He had already adjusted his emotions, accepting his fate calmly, without joy over gains or grief over losses.

The most important thing was to figure out a way to complete the mission.

“How should I write to Duniko? As a friend, or as a lover? Or should I just scribble something to get this Smoke Mission over with?”

He pondered for a moment.

Going back to the study, he unfolded a sheet of thick parchment and began dipping a quill in ink: “Dear Duniko…”

“I wonder if you are still practicing ‘To Alice’? Returning by ship, the surge of the ocean helped me organize the score, but the tossing cabin and the clamor of the waves always disrupted my grasp of the melody, perhaps there was also the unrest of parting playing a part.”

“Back in Fresh Flower Town, far from the hustle and bustle and breathing in the chilly air amidst the snow, my mind finally cooled down. Although the score had already been sent to Long Taro Castle with Butler Ranieri and then handed over to you, I still tried to play those melodies again.”

While writing this, he couldn’t help pulling out a thick piece of parchment covered in musical notes from the desk.

This was what he had rewritten after returning to Tulip Castle. After many performances, he finally unearthed the details of “For Alice” from deep within his memory.

The scores he had promised to send to Meioubao and Duniko were hastily written while he was being jolted on the sea.

Far from perfect.

When he left Tulip Castle, he chose not to send the more perfect version of “For Alice,” probably feeling it unnecessary since he didn’t have to rely on the identity of a pianist to enhance his noble demeanor.

So the score remained on his desk, gathering dust.

Looking at the forceful characters inscribed above, he felt as if he were recalling the wild euphoria of that night once again. In terms of beauty, Duniko was far outshone by the Sea Sprite Ake, yet the flirtatious allure Duniko possessed—blightless and innocent—was something that the guileless Ake lacked. One made you feel that desecration was a sin, the other made you want to sin.

Knock, knock, knock.

A knock on the door broke the silence, it was Butler Carter, “My lord, are you available?”

His thoughts retreated, and Liszt replied, “Please, come in.”

Carter came in with a cup of milk tea, “This is the milk tea Mrs. Morson just brewed, with just a pinch of fine honey added. If you like it, I will tell Mrs. Morson to continue brewing it this way.”

“Let me try it first.” Liszt took the cup and took a sip. Compared to the fresh milk he had before, the milk tea with honey was undoubtedly more delicious.

This fine honey had been scrapped out of a destroyed hornet’s nest on Black Horse Island, totaling twenty pounds, toxin-free and incredibly aromatic and sweet.

It was stored in several large jars and labeled “For the Master’s Use Only.”

And those honeybee pupae, after Mrs. Abbie stir-fried them with oil, salt, and seasonings, most of them were devoured by Liszt—half eaten on the spot, and the rest stored in the Gemstone Space for a chew whenever he pleased, utterly delightful.

At this moment, he finished the milk tea.

The delightful taste stimulated his taste buds, and Liszt couldn’t help but drink down the rest in one go, “Delicious, the sweetness is just right, Mr. Carter. Please convey to Mrs. Morson to measure the spoonfuls for the tea as she did today’s cup.”

“Yes, my lord,” Carter said before taking the cup and leaving.

Liszt continued to bury his head in his desk, writing a letter, the quill never pausing.

“…Now I have filled in the details for ‘For Alice,’ and I think it should be placed upon the piano rack of Miss Duniko who understands music best, accompanying your slender fingers as they turn into beautiful notes.”

“I think I’ve heard your touching piano play, lingering in my ears, as pure as moonlight.”

“Sending my regards!”

“Yours sincerely, Liszt.”

He set down the quill, picked up the thick paper and shook it to speed up the drying of the ink. Then after checking it twice and feeling that the wording was acceptable—not too unfamiliar, yet not shamelessly enthusiastic—he merely stated the reason for writing and did not suggest meeting again.

Men can do anything in a moment of impulse.

But with reason, they know better what to choose and forsake. He certainly couldn’t abandon the affairs of Fresh Flower Town and travel thousands of miles to Red Crab Island just to have a fling with Duniko.

If it weren’t for the absurd content of the Smoke Mission, he probably would never contact Duniko again.

Passion is not love.

As a Noble, one must be able to pick up and let go.

“I wonder what Duniko will think when she receives the letter…” Liszt folded the thick paper, took out an envelope, and tucked it inside.

On the envelope, he wrote “To be opened by Duniko Hyacinth,” “Sender Liszt Tulip.”

Then using a Flame Striker, he lit a candle and took a scoop from the box of rosin on the table, taking a few small pieces of rosin and placing them over the candle flame to melt.

When the rosin turned into a liquid, he poured it evenly over the seal of the envelope. Just as it was about to set, he took out his personal seal, a rectangular stamp bearing half of his name “Lis” in Serpent Script, and pressed firmly onto the rosin, leaving a distinct mark.

Having completed all this, he called over Retainer Knight Philip, “Have this delivered to Tulip Castle first thing tomorrow morning, hand it to Sir Levis and ask him to send it on my behalf.”

“As you wish, my lord.”