Vol 7. Chapter 42: Close to Perfect

Saint Heath Academy – Young Dragons Division.

“Alright, class. To wrap up this special lesson, we’ll listen to a piece often regarded as the closest to ‘perfection’ in all of dragonkind’s music.”

As the teacher spoke, they activated a phonograph. Gentle, flowing music began to play, and the students below the podium closed their eyes in quiet concentration.

Near the end of the piece, Muse raised her hand.

The teacher looked at her. “Do you have a question, Miss Muse?”

Muse stood up obediently and asked earnestly:

“Teacher, why is this piece described as ‘close to perfect’? Does that mean dragons have never created a truly perfect piece of music?”

The teacher smiled and gestured for Muse to sit before continuing:

“To answer Muse’s question, we first have to understand the history of music among dragons. For thousands of years, our race hasn’t made much notable progress in the realm of art and culture. There have been very few we could truly call ‘musicians’ or ‘creators.’ It wasn’t until the founding of the Tower of Holy Light, when Twilight Tower Lord Dimosee introduced foreign cultures, that many of us began to encounter previously unknown art forms. Music, of course, was one of them. Of course, getting a late start is only ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) one of the reasons we haven’t produced ‘perfect music.’ There’s also a more important reason... the definition of perfection itself.”

Muse and the rest of the class listened closely.

At that moment, another student raised their hand.

The teacher smiled and acknowledged them.

“Teacher, my father says there’s only one kind of perfection in this world—and that’s the self you become by constantly getting stronger. So doesn’t that mean that, given enough time, dragons could create perfect music too?”

Muse turned her head toward the voice.

The question had come from her best friend, Hefei—the daughter of Uncle Constantine.

But this time, even before the teacher could answer, voices of disagreement popped up from among the students.

“My mom says perfection means being born flawless. Anything that needs improvement or growth afterward isn’t really perfect. So even if we had more time, we dragons still couldn’t make perfect music.”

“Hmm... that makes sense.”

“What? ‘Perfect’ is easy to understand—it just means everyone likes it!”

“......”

The children began debating animatedly.

“What is perfection, really?”

“What’s the exact definition of perfect?”

After a while, the voices quieted down, and all eyes turned toward the podium.

“Teacher, please tell us—what does perfect really mean?”

The teacher smiled again. Only once the phonograph had finished its recording did she begin speaking once more.

“Children, the music we just listened to came from our race’s greatest composer, Berang, and is a movement from his Symphony of Backlight. This particular piece is titled The Ever-Burning Blue Flame, and is often called by professionals today the ‘movement closest to perfection.’ So, as Muse asked earlier—why is it ‘close to perfect,’ and not ‘perfect’? Well, as I said, it depends on how we define perfect. All of you gave wonderful perspectives just now—offering lots of food for thought. But if you ask me, the truth is... there’s no such thing as true perfection in this world.”

The teacher swept her gaze slowly over the rows of young dragon students seated below.

They listened with rapt attention.

“Hefei said perfection is the version of yourself who’s grown stronger through effort. But what if someone out there is still stronger than that version of you? Then who’s the perfect one—you, or them? Sally said perfection is being born flawless. But in theory, everything that comes into the world at birth is flawless. And yet, every person and every thing in this world is changed and shaped by its strange, chaotic nature. Maintaining that purest form... is impossible. That’s why, when you try to define ‘perfection,’ you’ll always find yourself bumping up against its limitations. Just like everything in this world—nothing is ever truly perfect. What you love might be what someone else hates. What someone else dislikes might be exactly what you treasure. Here, let me give you a simple example.”

She walked to the edge of the podium and pointed out the window at the sun.

“Today’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining, and I might say, ‘I love today’s sunlight.’ But someone else might say, ‘Ugh, the sun is too bright, too hot—I can’t stand it.’ So even a movement that Berang spent his entire life perfecting... can only be called close to perfect—not truly perfect. Do you all understand now?”

Her accessible explanation wasn’t hard for the little dragons to grasp.

After all, she was a Saint Heath Academy instructor—she certainly had the skill.

And just then, the dismissal bell rang. The teacher said, “Class dismissed,” and left with her materials.

The students quickly split into little groups, chatting or playing.

The classroom grew noisy in an instant.

Only Muse remained in her seat.

She stared at the phonograph the teacher had left behind, her crimson pupils trembling slightly as she softly echoed the teacher’s words.

“There’s really... no such thing as a perfect composition?”

“Muse!”

A flash of red darted in front of her desk, snapping Muse out of her thoughts.

Hefei leaned in with both hands on the tabletop, her little tail curling behind her.

“Next period is Mana Refinement in Training Hall No. 4. Let’s go ahead!”

Muse nodded.

“Okay.”

The two girls held hands and left the classroom together.

“Oh, right—Muse, have you been practicing mana refinement lately?” Hefei asked. “I remember you said you didn’t score too well in that class.”

“Mm, I’ve been working on it. Big Sis taught me a lot of refinement techniques over the past two weeks.”

As she finished speaking, Muse missed a step.

She lowered her gaze and pressed her lips together, staring at the palm of her right hand. A strange glint flickered in her eyes.

“What’s wrong, Muse?” Hefei asked.

Muse shook her head, then looked up with a smile.

“Nothing. Let’s hurry.”

“Mm-hmm!”

They arrived at Training Hall No. 4 just in time for class to begin.

After a brief lecture on new theory, the students began taking turns testing their mana refinement skills.

Soon, it was Muse’s turn.

She stepped into the center of the hall. The tension in her face was easy to see under the watchful eyes of the teacher and her classmates.

Even Hefei, watching from the side, had clenched her tiny fists in support.

“You can do it, Muse. I know you can.”

Last month, Muse had scored only 68 in mana refinement—the lowest in the class.

After nearly a full month of focused extra practice... it was time to see how much she’d improved.

“Relax, relax, relax... I have to do it. I will do it.”

Adjusting her posture, Muse spread her legs slightly and held out both hands, palms facing up.

Mana flowed through her internal channels, gradually gathering in her hands.

Waves of transparent energy surged in her palms, lifting strands of her dark hair.

The teacher and assistant took notes throughout.

“Much better than last time,” the assistant whispered, marking her chart.

The teacher nodded seriously.

“Looks like she’s been training hard this past month.”

Seeing Muse’s visible progress, Hefei couldn’t help but cheer excitedly.

“Waaah! Muse, you did it!”

However, as the refinement continued, the teacher and assistant noticed something strange.

“...Huh? She’s been outputting mana for a while, but I still can’t sense any attribute?”

The assistant specialized in long-range elemental sensing magic. If even she couldn’t detect Muse’s mana affinity, that could only mean...

Muse’s mana, even now, was still at the most basic level.

The teacher furrowed her brow.

“She’s still young and hasn’t undergone the Elemental Awakening yet, but at this stage, most kids can at least show a bit of affinity...”

“Yeah. Even last month, Muse didn’t display any sign of attribute. Despite her improved control and duration, the affinity is still... Hmm. What’s going on...”

After a short delay, the teacher said:

“That’s enough, Muse. Take a break. Next—Sally, please step forward.”

“Yes, teacher!”

As Muse stepped down, Hefei ran over excitedly.

“Muse, you did way better than last time!”

The little red dragon girl wagged her tail—clearly proud of her friend’s improvement.

But Muse’s smile looked a little forced.

Hefei noticed right away and leaned in, concerned.

“What’s wrong, Muse? Are you unhappy with how you did?”

Muse hesitated, then nodded. She didn’t hide it from Hefei.

“Actually... I still couldn’t feel my mana’s attribute.”

“You couldn’t? Why not?”

Muse shook her head.

“I don’t know either. My big sisters said they could already sense their magic attributes around my age. After the Awakening Ceremony, they just needed to confirm their path.”

“But me...”

Her little face was filled with worry.

“My Elemental Awakening Ceremony is coming up soon, but I still can’t sense anything. Hefei, do you think... maybe I’m just not suited for magic at all?”

This kind of problem was clearly beyond what Hefei’s young brain could handle. She was still a kid, too.

But she still did her best to comfort Muse.

“It’s okay, Muse. Remember what the music teacher said—there’s no such thing as a perfect person or thing in this world. Look at all your other subjects—you score super high! You even got full marks in archery, and that’s a brand-new class this term! So what if mana refinement is a little weak? Don’t stress about it!”

“Really... don’t stress?”

Heffie lowered her gaze. Her heart felt full of complicated emotions.

And just then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of someone sitting in the shadows of the training hall’s bleachers.

She looked that way, pupils dilating.

“...Papa?”