* * *

As the saying goes, mulberry fields become seas. There is no telling when or how anything in this world might change.

London's present situation was proof of that. Ever since the fog had appeared on the first day of Walpurgis Night, the city had undergone rapid changes.

“That's the item that drives away the fog, isn't it?”

“Yes! I saw it work with my own eyes yesterday!”

“To think they developed an item like that... That's the Magus Guild for you.”

Magus Guild members traveling all over London to install hundreds upon hundreds of staffs and pillars was certainly a major change.

But the greatest upheaval was in London's balance of power—and the way its citizens viewed it.

“Still, can those things really get rid of the Misty hours?”

“Of course. The Archduke of Magic himself is handling it. Surely he won't fail?”

“Even so, House Seaserpent hasn't been able to do anything about it for decades, has it?”

“That makes it all the more impressive. Even if they fail, it's better than not trying at all like a bunch of cowards, isn't it?”

“Hey! Cowards? Watch your mouth!”

Previously, House Seaserpent had held an edge over the Magus Guild in its influence over the British Empire, however slight.

After the incident at the ball, however, that balance tipped sharply toward the Magus Guild. The admiring, expectant gazes once directed at the house's knights now turned toward the Magus Guild's players.

“Have you forgotten how hard the house's knights worked to help us when all that chaos broke out the evening before last?”

“The Magus Guild members did the same.”

“But...!”

“Look, I know how much we owe the house, too. But the Magus Guild is offering to get rid of the Misty hours. It's just not right to stand in their way, is it?”

“...”

As goodwill poured toward the Magus Guild, House Seaserpent's prestige plummeted. Word had spread through those who attended the ball that Rose opposed Karl's plan to eliminate the Misty hours.

It was inevitable. The Misty hours were London's terror.

The Magus Guild had stepped forward to eliminate them, while House Seaserpent stood in opposition. For London's citizens, it was only natural to want to side with the former—especially so soon after experiencing that evening fog.

Those who said the house opposed the plan for fear that tampering with some unknown curse might cause it to run rampant were relatively mild. The harsher voices claimed Rose was deliberately preventing the Magus Guild from achieving anything in order to preserve her house's power and influence.

This was a house that had protected the British Empire for generations and undertaken all manner of charitable works. Yet the reputation it had built over centuries had been overturned by a Magus Guild that had existed for only a few decades.

At this point, even the merciful Blue Dragon Clan had every reason to be outraged.

And yet the house remained silent. Its knights merely continued their usual patrols, maintaining public order.

Neither interfering with the Magus Guild's work nor offering any explanation, they quietly carried on as they always had.

The more they did so, the louder their critics insisted it was because they had something to hide. Even their defenders gradually began to harbor doubts.

... All without realizing that someone was steering public opinion.

'At last.'

A tower rose high in the heart of London. The Magus Guild's headquarters, it was regarded as one of the city's two great landmarks, alongside Seaserpent Castle.

At the top of that building, commonly known as the Magic Tower, an old man with snow-white hair and a long white beard was lost in reflection.

'Only now. Finally.'

It had been a truly long journey.

As soon as the Iron Age began, he had plunged into dungeons, risking his life to raise his level. He had researched magic-type skills and learned how to use them, then used that knowledge as bait to gather players and build his power base. Under the pretext of agreements, he had chipped away at the Blue Dragon Clan's power, growing the Magus Guild until it rivaled House Seaserpent. He had secretly supported the royal family, reduced to puppets of the Blue Dragon Clan, and entered into agreements with them as well.

This result, reached only after devoting nearly half a lifetime to the task—even for him, the oldest player—left him steeped in memories.

CLICK.

Perhaps some distant memory had surfaced. Karl opened the locket hanging from his necklace and gazed wistfully at the photograph inside.

“Wait just a little longer, Amelia. Soon, it will all be over. Those liars' deception, and the curse that has ruled London...”

For a brief moment, he held the locket as though in prayer, murmuring to himself. Then Karl put the necklace back around his neck, turned, and strode into the tower to prepare for tomorrow's ritual to eliminate the Misty hours.

A short while later, the Magus Guild distributed an official notice.

『Magus Concert Announcement.

Date and Time: Third day of Walpurgis Night, 12 noon.

Venue: In front of Magus Guild Headquarters.

Host: Magus Guild.

Sponsor: Duke Robert.

You are invited to the historic occasion on which the Misty hours will disappear.』

From the fog incident on the first day to the construction and arguments on the second, this year's Walpurgis Night had left London's citizens particularly bewildered. In previous years, they had simply laughed and celebrated for all four days.

The notice distributed by the Magus Guild was more than enough to bring that bewilderment to a head.

At any other hour, perhaps it would have been different, but a concert at noon, when the Misty hours began? That alone would ordinarily have been enough to set everyone talking.

The Magus Guild's public declaration—in other words, the word that this concert would eliminate the Misty hours—only fueled the confusion. No one had expected even the Magus Guild to attempt to remove them within a matter of days.

But that confusion did not last long. The following morning, people ventured into the streets full of anticipation and began gathering before the Magic Tower.

“Hey, are you really going?”

“Of course I am. It's a once-in-a-lifetime chance to watch that damned fog disappear.”

“But what if something goes wrong...?”

“Hey, don't jinx it! Do you know who's leading this? The Monarch of Magic! The Monarch of Magic himself! Do you think he'd make a mistake?”

They were driven by their faith in the Monarch of Magic, a great player born of the Iron Age, and in the Magus Guild, which had become a central pillar of the British Empire in just a few decades.

Above all, they were driven by the hope that they might never need to fear the fog again.

As time passed, the crowd grew. By the time noon approached, the streets were packed with tens of thousands of people.

Nor were they all ordinary spectators. The distinguished guests who had attended the ball occupied specially prepared seats in front of the stage.

For so many people to venture into the streets just before the Misty hours was truly historic.

Perhaps that was why every musician who stepped onto the stage before the Magic Tower as noon drew near wore a proud expression.

Being entrusted by the Magus Guild to perform at such an important concert was already a tremendous career achievement. The hopeful, expectant gazes of London's citizens were enough to add a deep sense of satisfaction to that pride.

At the head of the orchestras filling the stage stood none other than three people.

“Then I'll leave it to you, as planned.”

“Do not worry. An ensemble under my direction could never make a mistake.”

“I only hope my inadequate singing won't be a hindrance.”

Karl, the Monarch of Magic, stood fully prepared in robes with a staff in hand, smiling in satisfaction.

Beside him was Duke Robert, the Archduke of White Music, wearing a crisp tuxedo and an arrogant expression as he held his baton.

Lastly came Claire, a count-class player and officer of the Liberation Brigade, dressed in a performance gown.

“Ho ho ho. There's no need for modesty, Miss Claire. High-level singers of your caliber are rare not just in the British Empire, but throughout all Europe.”

“Thank you for your kind words.”

Claire answered with feigned humility, but inwardly she grumbled. She knew that the scarcity of high-level singers Karl had mentioned was precisely why she had been summoned to this distant country.

But what could she do? In the criminal organization known as the Liberation Brigade, the rule was to do exactly as one's superiors ordered.

Claire had no desire to die yet, so she maintained her usual insincere smile.

“Now, let us get ready.”

As though determined not to tolerate even a single mistake, Karl shook hands and spoke not only with those two, but with every individual musician, checking everything repeatedly until the very end.

Then he stepped to the front of the stage and swept his gaze over the surroundings below.

'Countess Rose... really hasn't come, it seems.'

Karl frowned slightly. Not only were the two most important seats empty, but there was not a single knight of the house among the spectators, let alone Rose.

He had expected her to attend, if only to see the outcome, so this was unexpected.

'Hmm. All that talk of being a countess and a princess, and in the end she's just a little girl.'

He briefly sneered as he recalled his guild members' reports that she seemed to be shut away at home, unable to recover from the shock she had suffered at the ball.

Then Karl dismissed Rose from his mind and tightened his grip on his staff. On the verge of realizing the cherished goal he had spent half his life preparing for, he had no time for such pointless distractions.

Perhaps Karl's tension had spread to them. Not only the musicians onstage but even the spectators gathered in the streets swallowed hard and kept silent.

At last, the hour and minute hands overlapped, and the signal they had awaited rang out.

DONG!

“Begin!”

DA-DA-RA-RA-DUM!

The instant the bells rang out, sounding like a thousand iron rods striking a thousand iron pillars, Robert's baton hand moved. In time with it, the orchestra's instruments began to play one after another.

The performance had begun without a single proper rehearsal. Yet there were no mistakes.

Everyone assembled here was a high-level player—a musician who could perform flawlessly simply by activating a skill, and who would be recognized as first-rate or even world-class in any country.

Their ensemble performance echoed throughout London through the staffs and pillars installed across the city.

This was no ordinary performance. These high-level players possessed skills that produced special effects through music: beguiling enemies, granting allies buffs, creating impacts, and more.

Under the direction of Robert, a duke-class player, the immense power contained in those skills merged into one, then underwent tremendous amplification through the staffs and pillars.

HISSSSS.

'Just as I thought—the bells were the medium!'

Karl's eyes flashed. Normally, the mist of the Misty hours should have begun gradually spreading as soon as the bells rang. Instead, he saw it falter as though something were interfering with it, unable to spread properly.

Having confirmed the fruits of his long research, Karl made a small gesture. At his signal, Robert swung his baton with greater fervor, directing the ensemble.

DONG!

DA-DA-DA-DUM, DA-DA-DUM!

The bells ringing through the fog and the music of the high-level player ensemble tangled in midair. Windows shattered everywhere, and the atmosphere shook.

The Great Barrier of London, a mystery of the distant ancient past, was colliding with the musical skills of countless players. The repercussions alone were causing tremendous damage.

Karl paid it no heed. Instead, he urged his guild members on, further amplifying the music transmitted through the items, and gave the final signal.

Claire began to sing at his cue. As the fog's wavering reached its peak, Karl raised his staff high and shouted in a thunderous voice.

“『Great Elemental Break: Higher-Order Elemental Decomposition』!”

RUMMMMMBLE!

Light poured from his staff and scattered through the air, and the fog surging in from every direction began to shake even more violently.

Of the ten Monarchs, the absolute beings of this age, he alone could use this Class 9 skill. Interlocking with the music echoing through London, it was pushing back the fog and the tolling bells.

Had that immense power been used for destruction, it would have been more than enough to obliterate an entire city.

DONG!

Even so, the bells and fog did not disappear easily. Though wavering and breaking apart, they continued surging forward to blanket London.

It was a display of might worthy of ancient magic that had held back even the Demon God.

But Karl did not give up. He drew out the power of every item he had prepared for this day, channeled it into his staff, and activated his skills again.

“『Spell Rank Up: Spell Hierarchy Enhancement』, 『Double Spell: Spell Duplication』, 『Great Elemental Break: Higher-Order Elemental Decomposition』!”

BOOOOOOM!

At his shout, the light pouring from Karl's staff swelled explosively into a vast pillar connecting heaven and earth.

CRACK!

The tolling shattered. The fog scattered into fragments. Brilliant light shone upon London.

“Ooooh!”

“Light! It's sunlight!”

“To think I'd live to see the noon sky in London...!”

As sunlight seeped in around the pillar of light piercing the sky, everyone gathered there—no, every citizen of London—burst into cheers.

Many were so deeply moved that they shed tears of joy. The disappearance of the fog's curse, which had blanketed London for more than half a century, filled them with jubilation.

Karl himself, however, did not rejoice at the result as they did. He merely fingered the locket on his necklace and looked up at the sky with a complicated expression.

Was it joy? Sorrow? Or emptiness?

Caught in a whirl of emotions he could not identify even himself, Karl finally closed his eyes.

But he did not know that Claire, one of the very people who had graced this stage, was wearing a peculiar smile.

Nor did he know that, from the moment the fog disappeared, the shadows cast throughout London had begun to writhe like wild beasts released from their chains.

And a short while later...

“Aaaaaaah!”

With a piercing scream, a wave of shadows engulfed London.