Alex stood before the drummers, his gaze flicking nervously between them. "I've heard stories," he began, his voice trembling slightly. "About your skill... your reputation. It's an honor to even be in your presence."
The drummers exchanged quick glances, their faces unreadable. Alex's words had started shaky but grew steadier, his confidence building with each syllable. He took a deep breath, his jade eyes now burning with a genuine admiration. He knew this was his only chance to connect—to prove that the rumors about him, the "trash of Blood Culture Village," didn't define him.
"You've heard it too, haven't you? The stories," Alex continued, with a rueful smile. "I can't tell you how much I admire what you do. You... you make something beautiful out of sound. And for me, that's... everything."
Bai, the group's leader, stood with his arms crossed, his furrowed brow betraying his confusion. He had expected a bitter, self-loathing figure—the drunkard or recluse often described in the whispers of the southern villages. But this young man, standing before him, was something else entirely. His gaze was clear, unwavering, and the sincerity in his voice was so palpable that Bai felt an unexpected pang of something unfamiliar—sympathy.
"Young Master," Bai said slowly, his voice low but warm, "you're far from what the rumors painted. They said you were... broken. But there's no bitterness in you."
Alex's heart raced, his cheeks flushed slightly at the unexpected kindness. He had heard those same rumors all his life, and despite the rumors, a part of him had always yearned for something more than the weight of his family's name. He swallowed hard.
"Yeah, well..." Alex rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Sometimes people don't get it, you know? But it's not about that. It's about... music. About something real. I've been dreaming of hearing it from you, of hearing you play the piece that defines all of this." His voice was growing firmer now, a new conviction in his words. But it was his eyes that held the real weight—something in them shifted, an intensity that lingered, leaving an odd, almost unnerving feeling in the air.
Bai studied him with growing interest. "And what piece would that be?"
Alex's face lit up. "Lone Goddess Gracing the Mountains. It's the one piece that can capture everything I feel... the power and the grace, the chaos and the calm."
There was a long pause. Aiyun and Chang exchanged uneasy glances.
Aiyun and Chang exchanged uneasy glances. They both knew exactly what piece of music Alex was referring to. It was known in some parts of the southern villages as the Chizomi Mikarare. Its true meaning remained a mystery, but there was a famous legend about a musical goddess who, in seclusion in the mountains, created this hauntingly profound composition that resonated through the ages.
Bai's lips tightened into a thin line, and he hesitated before speaking.
"The piece you ask for... it's no mere tune. It's... legendary," Bai explained. "Its rhythm is a storm, its energy boundless. Many have tried to master it, but even we... we've only managed to scratch the surface."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "Then you're the only ones who can do it. I've heard of your skill. Throughout the Southern villages, you're known as the Three Drum Kings. I have no doubt you have what it takes."
Aiyun looked skeptical, his brows furrowing. "It's not that simple, Young Master. We've spent months trying to perfect it. Our bodies... we've been broken by it."
But Alex wasn't deterred. He stepped forward, his voice rising with a fervor that surprised even himself. "I'm not asking for perfection. I just want to hear it. For once, I want to hear it and understand what it truly means."
Bai stood silently for a moment, assessing Alex's earnestness. He had expected to deal with a spoiled young noble, perhaps a fleeting curiosity about the song, but Alex's passion stirred something in him. There was no pretense in his request—only a deep desire to connect with something that transcended him.
"Very well," Bai finally said. "But don't say we didn't warn you."
The drummers began to set up, their movements slow, deliberate. Alex's eyes were wide with anticipation, his body almost vibrating with excitement. He could feel the weight of the moment, the potential of what was about to unfold.
As Bai positioned himself behind his drum, he looked at Alex, then back to his companions. "Get ready. This will take everything we have."
Aiyun groaned. "If I end up bedridden after this, I'm blaming you, Young Master."
Alex chuckled, his nerves dissipating slightly. "It'll be worth it, I promise."
The first beat echoed through the air, soft but powerful, like the beginning of a storm. Then another, and another, building in intensity. The rhythms intertwined, a beautiful cacophony that sent shivers down Alex's spine. The song, despite its difficulty, flowed from the drummers' hands with effortless precision.
But as the music swelled, Alex felt something stir within him—a strange, deep resonance in his chest. The rhythm wasn't just in the air. It was within him. The haunting melody of Lone Goddess Gracing the Mountains felt familiar, as though he had always known it, as though it had been waiting for him to discover it.
He closed his eyes, his breath shallow. His heart beat in sync with the drums, his mind flooded with memories he couldn't explain—visions of mountains, of gods, of battles fought long before his birth. The music carried him beyond the present, into something older, something vast.
His body moved with a kind of otherworldly grace, as though guided by something beyond him. The dance was nothing short of mesmerizing—not merely beautiful, but enchanting, like a spell cast to draw one's soul into a fantasy so captivating, there would be no hope of escape.
As if their very souls had been stolen, they watched in silent awe, losing themselves in the enchantment of the moment. They couldn't resist—it was as if the air itself, the trees, everything around them, had been held captive by the haunting music. But just like all good things have an end, the three Drum kings had reached their limit.
The drumming ceased, their heavy breaths filling the air. The silence that followed was overwhelming, almost suffocating, as they stood in stunned stillness, eyes wide in disbelief, savoring the moment.
Alex slowly opened his eyes, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. He glanced at the drummers, his throat dry, but the words he wanted to speak wouldn't come.
Bai, Aiyun, and Chang stood motionless, their faces a blend of awe and fatigue. Bai's face was pale, and his hand shook as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "That... that was something else," he murmured, his voice strained.
Alex could barely speak. "I—I think I felt it," he whispered, his voice faltering. "It's... it's not just a song. It's... something else. Something bigger, maybe."
Bai nodded slowly, his eyes distant. "It's more than just a song. It's a key, Young Master. A key to something unknown."
Alex's gaze sharpened, but doubt lingered in his voice. "What do you mean?"
Bai's expression darkened, his voice low. "I'm not sure yet. But whatever it is... I feel it. This is just the start."
Alex stood rooted to the spot, his heart racing, the weight of the moment settling heavily upon him. Something had shifted. Something had been unlocked within him. And he had no idea where it would lead.
All the uncertainty terrified him. The gods, the wars, those shadowy figures in the void—what was happening? Alex felt a turmoil brewing inside him, a conflict no one else could see. Even if they did, who would offer help? It was a burden only he could bear, and he knew it.
Meanwhile, as everything unfolded, no one noticed a shadow—a delicate girl hidden in the surrounding area, watching everything intently. Ancy stood frozen, her gaze fixed on the scene before her. She never expected her naive and weak little brother to possess such incredible dancing skills. Was I too blind to notice? No... if that were the case, others would have seen his talent. She paused, her thoughts trailing off. They say he's trash, but... Her mind shifted, fixating on the unparalleled genius she had just witnessed—his mastery of music and movement. I've never seen anything so beautiful... almost unreal.
Ancy was lost in thought, disturbed by the realization. The noise of the bickering drummers snapped her out of her reverie. Her purpose here was clear: to take the familiar figure who had so unexpectedly shocked her back to the village's towering gates. It would be safer for him there.
She approached the familiar figures, her movements steady and deliberate.
Bai, with the instinct of one who senses danger, glanced sideways. His eyes locked with a pair of icy blue ones—sharp and calculating, as if constantly assessing everything in their path.
Young mas—ter..." he stammered loudly, nearly tripping as he dropped to the ground, sweat beads dotting his forehead. With a strange, almost comical bow, he hurriedly packed his things, pulling his two companions along as they scrambled to flee the area, running for their lives. The scene was so absurd that even Alex couldn't help but stare in disbelief, unsure whether to laugh or just shake his head at the chaos unfolding before him.