"Not a bad start, Halstadt-kun," the manager said, patting his shoulder over the couch. "If you weren't up against an idol, bet you'd have got a nice cheer, too."
Konrad didn't remember coming off the stage.
His ears rang, fingers trembling—but only when not clutching his guitar like a lifeline.
He got around two hundred mana from that performance, but lost count.
An exorbitant amount. And from a single song.
Some was still trickling in, long after he returned to the green room.
"Halstadt-kun? You okay?"
He wasn't. Not exactly. But also—never been better.
"Sure," he lied, "a bit tired, though."
Looking at the others, Kaede panted even harder. Midori-kun bounced on his feet, and Yuki—
Wait, where did the emo girl go?
Shit. Were they supposed to stay and listen to the other band? The walls did little to muffle the cheers, but the song itself felt distant. Hollow. Not that they didn't play well.
But the crowd put way more emotion into their yelling than they did in their notes for sure.
Yuki-san shuffled into the room as if to confirm it, her huge bass trailing behind.
"Man, they suck," she moaned, mismatched eyes throwing sparks. "This pisses me off."
"Yuki-chan?" The manager recoiled. "What, uh, are you gonna play next?"
That snapped her out of it. Konrad never saw her that angry.
"Ah, Black Parade," she chirped, back to her enthusiastic self. "Right?"
"That's the plan, at least," Konrad nodded, his mind still processing the events.
"Okay, take a breather, then back on the stage you go," the man said, leaving. "They picked a short song, so you don't have much time. Don't be late."
"That was rather sloppy, Duke of Halaima," Midori-kun claimed the moment he was out.
"What was?" Konrad looked wide-eyed at the Demon Lord.
"To mess up such a simple song four times?!" the schoolboy scoffed. "You did better in rehearsal. Why decide to spoil it when things matter the most?"
"Decide?" he repeated the word in complete disbelief. "You serious?"
"I, for one, couldn't even hold my drumsticks straight, Baka," Kaede chimed in, holding out her hands. Her fingers trembled even worse than his. "And he sang for the first time, too—"
Right. He actually did that.
"You'll sing as well," Konrad noted. "And Maou—why don't you grab a guitar, too?"
That wasn't a snapback. Well, it was, but he had an idea.
"You know I can't play it, moron," Midori-kun said, crossing his arms. "Can't take criticism?"
As calm as he tried to act, he didn't vibrate with this much energy even during their duel.
Konrad smirked.
"You don't have to play. Hold it and pretend."
Their next pick opened with the piano, but the keys had nothing to do beyond that.
Yuki-san switched guitars for this one, dropping a second solo for her intense bass lines. It was a good choice, but also a shame. They were iconic, and one guitarist couldn't pull them off—
Except, he could.
"Take Yuki-san's guitar once you finish the intro," he said. "I'll summon the sounds myself, but the audience will need someone with an extra guitar to go with them."
"Huh? Why bother?" Midori-kun shrugged, but his eyes widened.
"Isn't that cheating?" Kaede asked, too, her tone more excited than judgmental.
"I hope it is," Yuki-san grunted. "But bringing an idol and shedding their whole identity was pretty scammy, too. What's the plan, Kon-chan?"
He could never get used to that nickname.
"Well, uh, I recovered more essence with the first song than meditation could. Back in Kasserlane, I mean. And they didn't even like us. Imagine how much we'd gain if they did."
Kaede's eyes sure lit up at that. The Demon Lord was less enthusiastic.
"It'd be pretty obvious, though. They could see that my hands are in the wrong place and all."
"Not if you turn towards Ryu-chan," Yuki suggested, pondering.
And considering it was about magic, she didn't even bat an eye.
Talking about magic, the crowd went wild as the other band finished their song.
"Fine, whatever," Midori-kun gave in with a sigh, but jumped to his feet. "We're up again."
Konrad was yet to calm down after his first stage experience, about to have his second. But his plan wasn't to survive the audience now. He wanted to conquer them all.
Of course, plans never outlived the first contact with the enemy—
"Top that, rookie," the lead emo grunted with a sneer when they passed each other by the stairs.
And, uh, top what?
As much as he had heard, their playing was robotic and empty. The Demon Lord used to be like that, hence he told him to improvise more. But when he paused to answer—
Midori-kun was already playing the intro on his keys.
Fuck. Konrad wasn't on the stage yet.
And with Yuki-san even further behind—
Damn it. No time to think. He wasn't supposed to sing now, but—
"When I was, uh, a young boy, my father—he took me to the city, to see a marching band."
Kaede caressed the drums, Yuki catching up a beat too late.
"Son, when you grow up, would you be the savior of the broken, the beaten, and the damned?"
She only plugged her bass in after singing that line in Japanese.
Konrad punched in the strings with a smirk.
No plan for another duet, but might as well.
By the first switch, he got into it. The drums got more intense, Kaede holding her own.
Maou grabbed the other left-handed guitar upside down, but nobody seemed to notice.
Konrad already screamed his lines in the second verse. Sure, his throat hurt—but he'd worry about that later. He let his magic roam free, a natural extension of the song and his feelings.
Then, the verse was over.
He only had enough time for one long breath and a futile attempt to calm down.
It was impossible with the dragoness going wild behind the drums. He matched her on the strings, switching pickups so the overdrive bit even harder now.
The sound raw, every note sending magic essence straight into his veins.
"Sometimes I get the feelin', She's watchin' over me—"
"And other times it feels like I should go."
Kaede joined to sing above them, the song gaining more depth. The way they harmonized—perfect. Glancing back, she had the time of her life, but Midori-kun was jumping as well.
He didn't play, but shook his head to the rhythm like a true rocker.
Well, if even the Demon Lord had it in him, Konrad couldn't get left behind.
"To carry on, we'll carry on—and though you're dead and gone, believe me."
"Your memory will carry on."
"We'll carry on."
Ah. He was losing his voice, but the momentum alone carried him. What was that little mana to spend on reinforcing his vocal cords? To create the extra notes? It all felt right.
He earned it all back, even if his legs gave out by the end.
Yeah, he wasn't acting when he fell to his knees.
His essence was about to overflow, but he was out of breath, struggling to get up again.
Until he heard the screaming cheers.
Konrad's eyes widened. He didn't see them before—even forgot he was playing for an audience.