"Yeah, that's right," Ging said seriously. "But it's better to owe you a favor than owe that friend of mine."
"Why's that?"
"Because you're like me—you don't care much for anything outside of the adventurous spirit in a man's bones. If someone kept whispering Sonata of Darkness in your ear all day, you'd lose your mind."
At that, Ging squinted, his expression flat but laced with annoyance.
"Artists, man. Most of them are certifiable. My friend? Probably one of the few halfway normal ones."
"...And your friend's strength? You realize that anyone who performs or listens to the Sonata of Darkness risks unimaginable disaster, right? Surely you've thought about that?"
"Yeah, yeah," Ging muttered, waving off the concern. His tone was lighthearted, but his eyes darted as if he weren't entirely confident. "I've seen what happens to people who've been attacked by the Sonata of Darkness. But don't worry—one of my friends is a top-notch healer.
"Even if something bad happens, it should be fine. Besides, while artists might be insane, they're not idiots. Surely they wouldn't gamble with their lives... I think?"
His voice trailed off toward the end, and even Ronnel could sense the growing uncertainty.
Ronnel didn't respond immediately, instead mulling over what Ging had said. The so-called "artistic geniuses" Ging described were nothing new to him. He'd attended enough bizarre exhibitions to understand one universal truth:
Art is anything incomprehensible to ordinary people.
It might have been an extreme view, but Ronnel couldn't deny it held some truth. And if Ging's musician friend had truly gotten their hands on the Sonata of Darkness, then…
Well, self-destruction seemed almost inevitable.
Still, Ging had claimed to know a skilled healer. Ronnel thought of the Angel's Breath on Greed Island and the miraculous way Gon had been restored after nearly destroying himself. Ging had always been a steady presence through it all, never seeming overly concerned.
Ging's network of connections was vast—that much Ronnel didn't doubt. But there was another point he couldn't ignore.
"You said you've met someone who was attacked by the Sonata of Darkness?"
"Yeah," Ging replied nonchalantly. "Ran into them at the Kakin Empire. They got messed up after listening to the harp section."
The Kakin Empire, Ronnel thought. That makes sense. Anything tied to the Dark Continent would definitely be on their radar.
The Sonata of Darkness. Even its name suggested some connection to the Dark Continent. With the resources of the Kakin Empire, it wasn't surprising they'd uncover parts of the Sonata.
Ging's obsession with the Dark Continent was well known, and anyone wanting to go there needed the Kakin Empire's permission. Getting that access—and securing the aid of a sub-race guide—was no small task.
"Are you saying the Kakin Empire has the harp section?" Ronnel asked, his brow furrowed. "Then that means the flute section's melody, and maybe piano or violin sections, could be out there too."
"Exactly," Ging confirmed. "But here's where it gets weird. According to an old bard, a team of adventurers entered Braga Canyon some time ago. They never came back."
Ronnel's mind raced. "So, someone in that team might've mastered the Sonata of Darkness. Maybe they faced something so dangerous in the canyon they resorted to playing it. And the bard overheard it by chance?"
"That's my guess," Ging said. "The adventurers must've prepared for the canyon's dangers—its death energy and lingering resentment. Yet they still played the Sonata of Darkness. That suggests whatever they faced was beyond their limits. Or..."
"Or," Ronnel interrupted, "there was some entirely different threat."
"Exactly," Ging said with a grin. "My bet's on the latter. People don't just start playing a cursed melody unless they're desperate."
"Unless," Ronnel added, "they didn't fully understand the danger of the Sonata of Darkness."
"Either way," Ging said with a laugh, "we should be prepared. Worst-case scenario? We deal with something neither of us can handle. You run, I'll hold the line."
Ronnel snorted, his eyes narrowing. "You? Against something I can't handle? You'd lose. Do you even believe that?"
"Of course," Ging said, grinning.
"...What?"
"Haha! I'm a good judge of people. Even if you seem weaker than me now, something about you gives me the feeling you could kill me if you wanted."
"You bastard..."
Laughter rang out across the vast expanse of the Braga Plains as the two figures trekked onward, their banter echoing behind them.
The plain stretched endlessly, but for Ronnel and Ging, it didn't take long to reach their destination.
"This is Braga Canyon?" Ronnel muttered, eyeing the massive gorge. It looked like the land had been torn apart by the mountains flanking it.
A sharp wind whistled through the canyon, carrying an eerie sound. Combined with the thin strands of black energy drifting upward, the place gave off an ominous vibe.
Ronnel frowned. "Looks like trouble already."
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