Chapter 17 – The Heart of Songs
Adrian looked at Ignes.
"So… did he lose his memory or not?"
As they spoke, the group walked forward and took their seats.
Benedict crossed his arms slightly.
"I think he remembers."
"But he was in a coma for two years."
"While we were fighting and changing…"
He gestured toward the others.
"We've all grown older."
"And the demonic miasma made us look even worse."
"So it's not strange if he finds it hard to recognize us."
Adrian nodded, then turned to his father.
"Father… did you find the Heart of Songs?"
Leopold looked at him.
"…I did."
Frederick immediately reacted.
"You found it?"
"Then why didn't you inform me?"
There was clear excitement in his voice.
Ignes, still slightly dizzy from earlier, blinked.
"…Heart of Songs?"
Frederick turned to him.
"Yes."
"It's a book."
"A book of songs that can be used against demons."
"That's what the gods said."
Leopold sighed.
"I gave it to many singers."
"But no one could sing the songs in it."
Frederick nodded.
"That's normal."
"Only a pure soul can sing those songs."
"We just need to find that person."
Then—
Frederick suddenly looked at Ignes.
"Igna… why don't you try singing?"
"I love your songs—"
Ignes immediately cut him off.
"Yes."
Fast. Too fast.
He knew exactly what was coming.
Frederick's "love" confessions.
Back in their old world, it had been constant
Good morning messages.
Good night messages.
Endless admiration.
Ignes could feel it.
It wasn't romantic love.
It was admiration.
But still—
Too much.
It's different now, Ignes thought.
At least now he treats me like his own son.
That makes it… manageable.
Frederick also seemed to realize it.
He cleared his throat and spoke in a normal tone.
"…Leopold. Give the book to Igna."
Leopold handed the book over.
William leaned forward.
"Can Igna even sing?"
"I've never heard him."
Alexander smiled slightly.
"He used to sing."
"When he was little…"
"He would hum to music and even to birds chirping."
Alistair laughed softly.
"Yes."
"He would sing as soon as he woke up."
"And at that time, you used to make him drink milk."
Ignes blinked.
"…Did I really have that habit?"
Alexander nodded.
"Yes, you did."
Ignes sighed.
"…Whatever."
He opened the book.
Looked at the lyrics.
And began to sing.
His voice was clear.
Smooth.
Beautiful.
But—
Nothing happened.
Silence filled the room.
Frederick frowned.
"Igna… something's wrong."
"Why don't your songs have any effect?"
"They're not like before."
Ignes closed the book.
"I don't know."
Then he thought for a moment.
"…No."
"I think I understand."
He looked at them.
"These songs require a pure soul."
"A soul that matches the song."
He shook his head slightly.
"It won't work for me."
Frederick frowned.
"That's strange."
"What do you mean?"
"These are songs meant to kill demons."
"Why can't you sing them?"
Ignes answered calmly,
"A pure soul… knows what purity is."
"There are many levels."
"Most pure souls can sing this."
He paused.
Then said plainly—
"But I'm too pure."
Silence.
"I can't hurt someone."
"Let alone kill."
Frederick exhaled.
"…So we need to find someone else."
Until now—
Xavier had been silent.
Then he spoke.
"How pure… is your soul?"
His voice was cold, as always.
Ignes looked at him.
Unaffected.
Calm.
"Yes," Ignes said.
"I know."
"My soul shouldn't be this pure."
"It shouldn't stop me from killing."
He paused.
Then added quietly—
"But it does."