Chapter 111: Pressure

Translator: Kris_Liu Editor: Vermillion

The crystal dome in the air created by divine power had disappeared, but people still remained on the square, lingering over the last piece of symphony named The War of Dawn.

Following the trend of theme music created by Symphony of Fate, Mr. Christopher’s latest music piece was definitely great.

“Comparatively speaking…” Sala was a bit hesitant, “magnificent as The War of Dawn is, Symphony of Fate, to me, is still move impressive.”

Lilith nodded, “Yes, I feel that the determination that Symphony of Fate carries is still stronger.” Then she frowned her brows and looked worried, “But Mr. Christopher’s concert is still a great success. The concert tonight must have put even more pressure on Mr. Evans.”

“Mr. Evans will be fine…” Sala did not really know what to say, “He won’t let us down.”

“Then what if he does?” Lilith raised her head, “After all, Mr. Evans is competing with the president of the Musicians’ Association.”

Sala looked at his sister and sighed.

At the same time, on the top floor of the town hall Felicia released a long sigh, as if she was trying to drive away the worry and nervousness in her mind.

However, not everyone was feeling concerned about Lucien’s concert. Mekanzi was one of the exceptions, who was very excited after tonight’s concert, not really because of the great breakthrough that Mr. Christopher made in his late years, but because Mekanzi believed that the president’s awesome concert would absolutely pale Lucien’s performance on the following day by comparison.

The grand duke, the princess and other high-ranked nobles stayed in the Psalm Hall after the concert and right now they were talking to Mr. Christopher in a separate box, congratulating him for his great music achievement and regretting that he would hold no more concerts in the future.

The other nobles and musicians remained in their seats, exchanging their ideas about the concert.

“You’re now almost an expert in the field of theme music, Lucien.” Victor was impressed by Lucien’s interpretation of the first movement of The War of Dawn, “I can tell you are shaping your own music style and ideas.”

“Thank you, Mr. Victor. Unfortunately, I’m afraid that I still have a long way to go before achieving that level,” answered Lucien humbly. “What I was talking about was basically from Music Criticism and Symphony News. They produced a few quite insightful music reviews in the field of theme music in the past couple of months.”

In fact, all the music knowledge that Lucien was exchanging with Victor and Marcus was from his spirit library.

“Oh… I read those articles as well. Yes, they’re great as means of instruction,” agreed Marcus, but then he changed the subject, “Do you feel stressed that your concert tomorrow will be compared with this perfect concert, Lucien?”

When Lucien was about to answer, Victor patted Marcus’ arm to stop him. Then, Victor said to Lucien, “Never compare yourself with others. Do what you want to do.”

In fact, Victor himself was pretty worried that the piano solos tomorrow might not be able to provide enough music appeal to the audience, but he chose to trust his student.

Lucien was not as stressed as other people thought. Although he knew that his arrangement and repertoire of the concert was quite ahead of the mainstream, and the several pieces of piano solos might be a great risk, Lucien believed that only himself knew what he wanted.

“I’ll just try my best.” He nodded.

Then minutes later, the nobles started to leave the concert hall, followed by the musicians. Some nobles and musicians greeted Lucien in a sort of weird manner. Clearly, they were trying to avoid mentioning his concert tomorrow.

It was April fifth, the last day of Aalto Music Festival.

At seven thirty in the evening, almost all the people in Aalto were gathering around the central square and on the streets nearby, waiting for the last concert.

Piola, Sharon and other band members arrived at the square in the early afternoon to secure a relatively good spot. Now they were surrounded by more and more people and more and more heated discussion.

Staring at the crystal dome, Piola murmured as if he was dreaming, “I wish I could hold a concert here. I’d be willing to die for that.”

“Not really possible, unfortunately.” Green, the violist, shook his head and sighed, although he had the same dream in his mind.

“We’re only in our twenties. We’re still young. Don’t be this pessimistic, Green,” said Sharon, “Mr. Christopher is still seeking for music breakthroughs in his seventies, and we shall carry our dreams all the way until we accomplish them.”

“Speaking of being young…” Grace said to them, “Mr. Evans’ coming-of-age ceremony is still a couple of months away from now.”

Sharon, who was born in a music family, replied, “The youngest musician held his concert in the Psalm Hall when he was fifteen, but by the time he performed here, he had already hosted several concerts in different places. Mr. Evans is now having his first concert here during Aalto Music Festival, that’s something that will definitely be recorded in the history of music.”

Christopher held his first concert in the Psalm Hall during a previous Aalto Music Festival when he was twenty-six. The eldest musician who held his concert at the age of a hundred and twelve in the Psalm Hall was also a grand knight, which is considered an almost unbreakable record.

“Everyone is looking forward to Mr. Evans’ performance tonight,” said Grace. “I feel that… as long as his concert is half as impressive as Mr. Christopher’s, we shall call it a success.”

“I agree…” Piola nodded, “After all, Mr. Evans has been learning music for less than a year. He’s already a genius for going this far, and he’s still very young.”

“I don’t think that other people will agree with us, unfortunately.” Sharon sighed, “There must be people who’re hoping for Mr. Evans’ failure.”

Outside of the Psalm Hall, Lucien, dressing a black tailcoat, was welcoming the distinguished guests together with Rhine and some other orchestra members.

Many nobles and musicians trickled in the hall. Among them were Count Hayne, Count Rafati, Count Hill, Mr. Othello, and other foreign nobles and musicians that Lucien did not know.

Then, Christopher showed up with his student Silvia. He nodded to Lucien with a kind smile and asked him to relax. Silvia smiled to Lucien to show her encouragement.

Lucien also specially invited his “family” in Aalto to come. John, Joel, Alisa, Iven and Elena were all invited. They arrived with Victor and Felicia, and some of them looked even more nervous than Lucien. He grinned to them, telling them he was feeling great.

Finally, the coach of the grand duke arrived. The grand duke and Princess Natasha were surrounded by many nobles, and so was Michelle, the Prince of the Kingdom of Syracuse, and Sard, the Saint Cardinal of the Church.

Natasha lifted her purple eyebrows a bit to Lucien and smiled, “I trust you, my music consultant.”

In the box, the Grand Duke Orvarit said to his daughter, “Natasha, I think that you were quite inconsiderate when you arranged Lucien’s first concert to be held after Mr. Christopher’s and as the closing concert of Aalto Music Festival. You don’t want him to mess it up, do you?”

“Of course I don’t, father.” Natasha laughed. “I just have faith in him. I know he can do it.”

“Well… your faith doesn’t make him a qualified musician for this occasion.” Verdi said to Natasha, “All he had was Symphony of Fate, and… probably For Silvia.”

“I think this is a proper occasion for a young and talented musician to grow.” Christopher agreed with Natasha, “The most valuable concert for a musician is one that can help him break through his limits.”

Sard also nodded, “I can tell from that symphony that this young man is very persistent. He has a heart that won’t yield to difficulties. God will bless him.”

Having the support of Christopher and Sard, Natasha smiled to Verdi, “Now, what do you think?”

“Well… we’ll see.” Verdi did not bicker too much with Natasha tonight. His mind seemed to be a bit pre-occupied right now.

When Lucien appeared on the stage, Piola’s pointed at the crystal dome and exclaimed, “He… he’s Mr. Evans?!”

Piola’s mouth opened wide. He could not believe his eyes.

It took Sharon a few seconds to organize what to say, “Yes, I think so. The young man we talked to before… is Lucien Evans.”

“No wonder…” Grace murmured to herself.

Standing in front of the orchestra, Lucien smiled to Rhine and nodded.

Then, Lucien waved his baton.

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