Returning to the inn with the very same clothes he had left, while bringing in a massive sword, wasn’t the way to create a good impression. The closer Dallion got to The Gremlin’s Timepiece, the more he had visions of Hanna yelling his head off. The woman had been very specific: he had to get some adequate clothes of his own, and instead Dallion had done this.

“What do you think, Nox?” Dallion whispered. “Think she’ll be very mad?”

The top button of Dallion’s shirt split in two and fell on the ground.

“Yeah, I hear you.” Dallion sighed. Spending all his money at once wasn’t the best idea. It wasn’t that he had much of a choice. If there was such a thing as fate or extreme luck, it had taken place just now.

A sword that relied on music and attack skills… Dallion had no idea how that might work, but something deep inside whispered that this was the weapon for him. The first thing Dallion had done upon buying it was to enter his awakened room. A new frame had appeared on his “attack” wall, complete with the harpsisword. Looking at it left no room for doubt—the strings matched the color of the lyre, also the moment Dallion played one, both music instruments vibrated in unison.

“Anyway, it was worth it.”

Entering the inn, Dallion braced himself. The innkeeper, at her usual spot at the counter, glanced at him with a typical “why am I not surprised look” then went back to polishing a mug.

“The crowd’s here,” she said, “Put your toy in the room and get down here.”

“Okay.” Dallion had no intention of arguing. “I’ll be just a minute.”

“You better. There are a lot of cracked things waiting to be mended.” Apparently, word of last night’s antics had spread, bringing in more people curious to see him in action. In a city this size, it could well be days until things returned to normal. Not bad, given that Dallion was in need of money again. “Also, you’ll be covering for Jiroh as well. Given you’re new to this, don’t expect much extra.”

With a nod, Dallion rushed up to his room. Technically, he had promised he’d be back in a minute. For an awakened, though, a minute in the real world was equal to eternity.

Item awakening

The staircase disappeared along with the rest of an inn. In its place, an endless library hall emerged. A few steps away, sitting on a wooden table with a book in hand, the echo of Captain Agzorg let out a polite cough.

“Mister Darude,” the echo said in an overly formal fashion. As any high-school student knew, that was a clear indication that Dallion was in trouble. “When you last mentioned that you’d finish reading the Treatment of the Seven Moons momentarily, I was under the impression that you would do so… momentarily, not half a day later.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, Nil.” Thank goodness that the actual Adzorg wasn’t able to share the echo’s thoughts. If he did, Dallion would really be in deep crap. “A lot of things came up. Look what I got.” Dallion drew the sword from his belt. It seemed that he could carry multiple weapons in the awakened realms, as long as he was in contact with those weapons in the real world.

“Hmm.” The echo closed the book he was reading and approached. “A harpsisword,” he said, then slid a finger over its surface. “Antiquated model, though passable quality. How much did you spend on that exactly?”

“Enough,” Dallion had the foresight not to reveal details.

“Not a fortune, I hope? Such weapons are tricky to master at best, and quite fragile in actual battle. They also require constant tuning and string replacement, and as you might expect, strings don’t come cheap.”

Okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best deal, Dallion thought. Still, that was for the real world. Here, he could be as reckless with the weapon as he wished and wouldn’t have to replace a thing.

“Personally, I would have suggested you buy a pair of daggers. They are versatile, easy to conceal, and also suitable for both close and ranged combat.”

Daggers again. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Is there anything you can tell me about the sword?”

“Harpsisword,” the echo corrected.

“Harpsisword,” Dallion grumbled.

“Well, considering I’ve read everything here at least once, I’d say there is some information I could share. The better question is, why haven’t you read anything on the subject? Usually, it’s better to get informed before you buy something, Mister Darude.”

Hey, it’s my money! I can do whatever I want with it! Dallion wanted to say. Instead, he took a deep breath and smiled.

“You’re right, that was dumb on my part. But now that I have it, can you help me out?”

The echo sighed again, then walked off to one of the far shelves. With pedantic precision, Nil took a small tome from the third row from the floor. That done, he walked a few shelves further away and took a second, much larger tome.

I really hope it isn’t world history of music. Dallion shivered.

“These might prove useful.” The echo came back and placed the books on the small table where the moon scroll was waiting. “In the meantime, I’ll give you the cliff notes.”

Dallion waited.

“Err, well?” he said after a while.

“Well, if you had actually finished the scroll I gave you, you’d know that you could use your observation power to determine items you own the same way you see the strengths and weaknesses of guardians you’re fighting. In any event, that is your harpsisword, so I was hoping you’d put in the effort.”

Dallion looked at the weapon. Try as he might, no white rectangle emerged. Maybe it had to do with his perception level? The first time he saw a guardian there were a lot of things that were marked unknown. Though, even then, he was able to see the rectangle itself.

Show me the weapon, Dallion thought.

“You’re trying to visualize it, aren’t you?” the echo asked. “That’s a normal first reaction, but it’s wrong. Think of everything here as air—it has no actual presence, yet it’s there. What you’re doing is looking at something that doesn’t exist. Instead, you should look at the differences.”

“Look at the differences,” Dallion whispered. What did the echo mean by that?

The sword was there in his hand. He could see its shape, feel the weight, even hear the slight vibration of the strings as she slashed through the air. And still, he couldn’t see any rectangle.

Look at the differences, he thought. But what were the differences? The weapon was much flashier than the sword he’d started with, it was linked to the lyre, and thus his music skills… Was there another difference Dallion wasn’t seeing?

Hold on! Dallion had a flash of insight. There was a difference! How sneaky of Nil, he had hinted it all along, though never saying it outright. The things in Dallion’s awakened realm didn’t exist—the buckler, the short sword, even the lyre were concepts. The dartbow, and the harpsisword, however, did, just like the crackling cub.

HARPSISWORD

Level 3 Music Weapon

Combining the characteristics of Attack and Music skills, the harpsisword can be used for direct and indirect combat. Similar to music instruments, the harpsisword can vibrate to a target’s emotions.

In addition to its standard use, the harpsisword can shatter targets from a distance through the use of vibrations, as long as they are in tune with the target point.

“Whoa!” Dallion blinked. “I see it!”

“Yes, yes, wonderful.” Nil gave Dallion a slow clap.

“It’s got a wicked special skill. Shattering targets from a distance. Doesn’t that sound overpowered?”

“Now that you mention it, it does.” The echo nodded. “That’s why it takes about a decade for someone to learn to use it adequately.”

Dallion’s enthusiasm suddenly vanished like steam from a kettle. A decade? That was long indeed. If he timed it right, only months would pass in the real world. While he could train here for an eternity, eating was a different matter.

“That is why, I suggest you start with the basics, okay?” Nil tapped Dallion on the shoulder. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities to become a master of the singing sword,” he added with a chuckle.

Right… “How easy is it to improve a weapon?” Dallion waved it around. It felt very different from the short sword he was used to—lighter and much more precise, as if it was sliding through the air.

“Improving a weapon is done the same way you improve an item. Considering the material, it’s forged from you’ll be able to do that once you reach level thirty or so. Maybe fifty to be certain.”

“Just asking.”

Level thirty to level up the weapon to level two? What would the echo say if Dallion shared it was at three already? What would Taem have said? The rarity alone would have added a few zeroes to the end of the price. The only explanation was neither of them knew the sword’s real worth, and for the moment Dallion intended to keep it that way.

“I don’t suppose you can tell me how to see some use instructions, can you?” Dallion smiled sheepishly.

With a sigh, the echo went to a nearby section of the library and took a massive book from the shelf. Dallion watched in puzzlement, as the echo proceeded to put the tome sideways in the middle of the room, then stepped back.

“What’s that?” Dallion asked.

“The Full enhanced Diary of Professor Thirdsworth of the Spellcraft Academy,” Nil said in a bitter voice. “Volume three.”

“Not a fan, I take it?”

“The man is a pompous idiot! Just because he made a few academic discoveries fifty years ago, he thinks he can subject the world to any drivel he comes up with.”

For a split second, Dallion thought he could see steam coming out of the echo’s mouth.

“Regardless, that’s a story for a different time. For the moment, let’s focus on the basics, which is on destroying the book. Normally objects don’t have emotions, so I’ll put some confusion in it.”

A blue glow appeared within the book, the same hue as one of the strings of Dallion’s harpsisword. Looking closer, Dallion saw the string was vibrating.

“There are nine basic types of emotions: joy, sadness, anger, calm, fear, tenderness, ambition, excitement, and confusion. Think of them as nine colors. All emotional states are a combination of them.”

Dallion knew a number of psychologists on Earth who would have a fit if they heard Nil. The funny part was that in this world, the echo was right.

“Play the string and match the emotion.”

That much Dallion had already summed up from his attempts to use his lyre as a weapon. It started well, but so far, every time ended in failure. Still, he held the sword in his right hand, playing the string with the thumb of his left. Both the string and the book vibrated. This time there was something more—looking at the string, he could see a second blue line moving up the string. The moment it reached the end of the string, the tome froze still.

“Everything’s about balance and timing,” Nil said. “The correct string starts the reaction. To maintain it, you need to play it again at the right moment. Too soon and the emotional connection will collapse, too late and you would have lost your moment. Just like with people.”

“You mean I can use this in real life too?”

“You’re already using it.” The echo frowned. “Everyone is. A conversation is nothing more than picking up the right words that resonate with the emotional state of someone, then saying them at the right moment. Compose a good enough tune and a person would be more inclined to do what you ask. Fail and they won’t be.”

Just like the saying “a kind word opens all doors.” In this world, the phrase was very literal.

Dallion took a deep breath and tried again. This time, the line almost reached the end of the string when he played it again. The result was the same.

Damn it! The exercise was trickier than it looked. No wonder he kept failing when attempting on his own. Even if he eventually noticed the line moving along the string, he would likely have mistaken it for a timer.

The first five attempts turned into ten, then fifteen. Each time Dallion was a hair’s length away from achieving his goal. Unlike the games he’d played, the skill was merciless—not even a fraction of error tolerance. Time and time again, the boy achieved near success, until eventually he hit the mark.

The book’s vibration turned into a tremble.

“Good!” the echo said with enthusiasm. “You’ve tapped into the book’s confusion. For a while it won’t be able to react. Now, slice it in two!”

Without hesitation, Dallion dashed forward. A red line appeared throughout the book, marking the exact place at which he would strike. Dallion changed the position of the sword slightly, raising the line just enough to create two equal sides on the tome, then performed a single slash. He expected the book to fly through the library and hit the opposite wall. Instead, it remained in its spot, the upper half falling off it.

For several seconds Dallion remained silent, still trying to figure out what had happened. Never before had he seen such an attack. This was too surreal.

“Well done,” the echo clapped. “Took you a while, but not bad, considering.”

“What happened?” he asked at last.

“I told you that the book won’t be able to react, and it didn’t.” Nil walked to the tome and picked up both halves with a gleeful expression. No doubt about it, he really hated that book. “That’s the effect you’ll have on people if you do it right. Not the chopping up, although that’s also possible. Getting the right notes of emotion at the right time will get them to freeze for just an instant, granting you an opportunity to strike, metaphorically speaking. This was a simple case. Often you need to follow up with more strings to achieve the effect before they freeze completely.”

The skill was capable of that? No wonder it was considered rare. If his mother had known the full effect of the skill, there was no way she would have lost to a simple ring guardian.

“What about objects? Does it work on those?”

“Dear boy,” the echo smiled. “Objects are merely the shell of the guardian they hold. Of course, it works on objects, as long as you find the right emotion to get to them.”