Chapter 20: Harmony and Hazard
"Before Caro comes to take one of us, I'll share some knowledge. Tell me, what do you know about spirits?" Ignis asked.
"I know as much as the Bible says," Oswin replied. "And that they perform miracles when called upon through songs and prayers."
"Honestly, even we at the church don't fully understand what spirits truly are or why they only respond to songs and Hymns," Ignis admitted. "There are spirits for everything in the world—fire, water, flesh, plants, imagination, soul, mind, body—everything."
Ignis paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "When you sing a hymn to a spirit, something called 'spirit influence' accumulates in your body. It varies depending on the spirit you're invoking. For example, hymns dedicated to the Spirit of Fire gradually heat your body. If too much influence builds up, it can start to burn you — first your skin, then your flesh, and finally your bones.
"The amount of spirit influence a hymn inflicts depends on the quality of the music and the power of the hymn itself. Naturally, asking for a single spark inflicts less influence than requesting a burning inferno."
Ignis leaned forward slightly, her gaze steady. "If a performer sings a basic hymn with better quality music, the hymn's power increases, and more spirit influence is inflicted. Skill matters just as much as the hymn itself. A poorly sung advanced hymn might barely scratch the surface, while a beautifully performed basic hymn could still carry significant weight."
The realization dawned on Oswin. It explained why his basic hymns had been unexpectedly potent — why his body had suffered so intensely when he sang to the Spirit of Water to start the automobile. Despite inhabiting a different body, the memory and musical talent from his previous world amplified his hymns, intensifying the spirit influence far beyond what a novice could normally handle.
Ignis continued, carefully observing Oswin's reaction. "When someone begins their musical journey, their body can only handle a small amount of spirit influence. However, as they continue to sing hymns, their capacity to bear spirit influence from the type of spirit they invoke gradually increases. This growth allows them to perform more powerful hymns over time."
"Do you understand, or do you have any questions?" Ignis asked, studying Oswin closely.
Oswin's eyes flickered thoughtfully. "I see... Then, can you sing in any language? Will the spirits still respond?"
Ignis nodded. "Yes, as long as the language is clear enough to hold a conversation. Many bards create their own languages to make their hymns more harmonious. The Church itself has crafted languages for hymns dedicated to specific spirits." She paused. "However, not every language is equally effective. Some are naturally more resonant, better suited for invoking spirits. The way the words flow, the cadence of the syllables, the instrument accompanying the hymn — all of it matters."
Oswin nodded, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. In his past life, he had attended the best music college, studying violin, classical compositions, and religious hymns. Drawing from his experience, he quickly composed a simple hymn dedicated to the Spirit of Fire. As he sang, the words flowed effortlessly, carrying a resonance.
A small flame flickered to life at his fingertip, gentle and warm like the flame of a gas lighter. The warmth spread through his body — present but controlled. It was far more bearable than the harsh chill that had torn through him when he previously sang to the Spirit of Water.
"I see," Oswin said calmly.
Ignis's eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion growing. She didn't believe Oswin was lying or posed an immediate threat, but there was something undeniably mysterious about him. She hadn't taught him any hymns yet, so there were only two possibilities — either he already knew the hymn, which seemed unlikely, or he had deduced it himself. While not impossible, such a feat was exceptionally difficult, especially given how fiercely the Church guarded such knowledge.
Oswin, still processing the experience, asked quietly, "Then... what is the Spirit King? Or even the Church itself?"
"What you call the Spirit King isn't a single entity. It's more accurate to say they are spirits of spirits — Spirits with the power to command all other spirits. However, no one sings hymns to them. Even a simple hymn dedicated to them inflicts overwhelming spirit influence. No one in recorded history has survived such an attempt."
She let that statement sink in before continuing.
"As for the Church… it's more like a guild for bards and performers. In ancient times, before countries existed and while war clans and tribes ruled the lands, people sang and worshipped spirits freely. When King Luciel Artia I founded the Artian Empire, he established the Church to provide a unified place of worship under the banner of the Spirit King."
She glanced at Oswin, making sure he was following.
"For common people and some religious bards and performers, it's a place of reverence and prayer, For bards and performers, it acts as a guild—a governing body that manages, teaches, and controls the knowledge of hymns."
Ignis' gaze shifted thoughtfully as she continued, "To some bards and performers, spirits are nothing more than tools — instruments to be used for their craft and ambitions. But to others, they are holy beings with immense powers that should be revered and worshipped."
She paused, a flicker of contemplation crossing her face. "This difference in perspective often shapes a performer's relationship with their hymns. Some sing with calculated precision, seeking to extract the maximum effect with minimal spirit influence. Others sing with devotion, believing that each hymn is a form of prayer, a sacred connection with something greater."
Oswin listened closely, understanding that to some hymns were just songs and weapons but to some it is a reflection of one's beliefs and intentions.
She folded her arms, her expression turning more serious.
"Now, the Church has expanded beyond Artia, spreading its influence to other nations. While it still functions as a guild for performers and bards, it has separated from direct government control. In return for grants and support, the Church takes responsibility for dealing with abominations, eradicating diseases, containing pandemics, and providing relief to citizens during crises."
"This is my limit. I cannot share more with you," Ignis replied in a regretful tone. In truth, she felt no remorse about withholding more information — the regret was just a performance to lower Oswin's guard.
Oswin offered a polite nod. "You've provided enough information, Ms. Ignis. Thank you."
Silence fell between them. The air felt heavy with unspoken thoughts, each of them measuring the other in their own ways. Ignis observed Oswin quietly, still uncertain about the true extent of his knowledge, while Oswin's mind processed everything he had just learned.
The silence was broken when a skinny, unclothed boy — around Aria's age and a bit shorter than her — walked up to them. His light yellow hair framed a round face, dotted with budding facial hair. His lower body, arms, and patches of hair were drenched in blood, a stark contrast against his pale skin. The boy's eyes had a vacant, glazed-over look, as if he were caught in a daze.
Ignis recognized him instantly, her eyes widening with alarm. But before she could say anything, the boy's knees buckled, and he collapsed face-first into the thick, sticky pool of blood. The sound of his fall sent ripples through the silence, snapping everyone to attention.
Ignis rushed to his aide, her bare foot splashing through the sticky pool of blood and staining the nearby stalagmites. Before she could reach him, the boy staggered to his feet on his own, his legs wobbling slightly but holding firm.
"I am fine, Miss Ignis. I was just... a little tired," he muttered, wiping his blood-smeared face with a shaky hand.
Ignis paused, her eyes scanning the boy carefully. Despite the blood covering his body, there were no visible wounds — not even a scratch. She knew why. The blood had powerful healing properties; it wasn't the first time she'd witnessed its effects. Her own body had been burned to a crisp, her skin charred beyond recognition during her fight with Caro, yet the blood had restored her to a pristine condition. The same seemed to have happened to the boy. His body was whole, but the exhaustion etched into his face and the tremor in his limbs revealed the toll it had taken.
"It's fine. Take a moment to rest," Ignis said gently, her initial urgency giving way to understanding.