Surviving as a Useless Bard in a Game

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Holding a music contest in the Empire is a very rare event.

No, it has never been held before.

‘This is the first contest…!’

If I win, I will become the first champion.

The anticipation outweighed the nerves. Being the first champion was a rare title that I could never obtain again.

Aside from a few competitions, most people always compare the first champion with those who come later. And if the first champion wins multiple times… an absolute idol! The G.O.A.T.!

“Hehe…”

“Can you stop laughing like that?”

“Huh? Why?”

“It’s annoying to listen to. And it’s too creepy.”

“Do you even know what creepy means?”

“First of all, yes.”

Do I look that creepy…? I mean, if I were to harass someone and get reported, the one reporting me would look more suspicious, right?

I don’t think I look like that at all.

Yeah, I know. It’s not that I look creepy, it’s just that my laughter sounds creepy—that’s basically what we’re saying.

But my laugh is perfect, isn’t it?

I’m sorry, but when I customize my character, I take voice very seriously. If I have a perfect body but a weird voice, it ruins the vibe, right?

A body with a perfect laugh is the true essence of a bard.

“Anyway, we’re getting close. Are we nearby?”

“…This looks like a line.”

Skylar pointed at the line of people that started far away at the palace entrance.

There were so many people that the line wrapped around several times, like it was back to the starting point. No way all of them are bards…?

With a charm of 8 and persuasion of 10, plus my special lute.

I thought I could easily win with my stats and equipment. But it doesn’t seem like it’s going to go as smoothly as I expected.

They say a stat of 3 to 5 is the world average. If that’s correct… there might be one or two people with a charm of 8, but…?

‘No, I’ll win. I’m prettier.’

I had confidence.

Alright then. Since I’ve made Skylar use up a precious scroll, my target is victory.

I stubbornly signed up for this. I need to take responsibility! For myself!

I stood at the end of the very long line. Skylar stuck by my side.

Even though I told him he didn’t need to join me, he insisted on coming along because he was worried. Well… at least I felt a bit more at ease.

Was it because I had someone I could trust by my side?

Thus began the waiting game.

The countless people started to dwindle, and the sun slowly moved, disappearing beyond the high castle walls of Regan.

I took out bread from my bag and stuffed it into my mouth.

< i > Nom nom.

I took small bites, chewing and savoring the taste of the bread.

< i > Slurp.

I held the leather pouch filled with water to my mouth and sucked it in like a straw. At first, it didn’t come out well, but after a while, I got the hang of it, and it became easier to drink.

How long has it been?

I’ve resolved the negative status penalty, but the effects remain… and even without the negative status, my stamina and strength are at 0.

Neither good nor bad, just a weak state. Which still means I’m far below average.

I chose the negative trait of being frail in the first place, so this is my lot.

‘It’s hard to just hang in there.’

When will my turn come? There are still so many people in front of me. I never expected to stand here until evening….

How many hours has it been since 8 AM?

That a hastily organized contest would attract this many people in just a week? Seriously, come on.

‘But more than that, something is really bothering me.’

I glanced sideways.

A bard, looking like he had lost everything, was trudging home.

His instrument was broken in half…

While standing in line, those who were eliminated or received harsh critiques would naturally pass by, creating a somewhat cruel structure.

It just adds to the tension for those waiting. If they genuinely wanted to see the competitors’ true abilities, wouldn’t it be better to have a separate waiting room instead of this?

They could at least set up a preliminary round.

Is the Emperor so busy with work that he has nothing else to do? Why is he in the grand reception hall, smashing bard’s instruments for over ten hours just to listen to music?

—And finally… it was my turn.

I took Skylar’s hand and entered the castle.

***

—The Emperor had lost interest.

It was commendable that these fine folks had tried to hold a music contest to dissuade him from clashing with the Mad King, but still…

On the surface, it seemed a foolish choice, yet it was a clever way to coax himself out from the office where he did nothing but work.

He must have secretly been enjoying the festivities outside too.

It wouldn’t be unreasonable to go along with this amusement, would it?

‘Though it was irritating to see such ridiculous ideas of giving whatever one wants plastered on the announcement, it should be fine.’

The Emperor, who intended to enjoy himself, simply frowned at the abysmal level of the bards. So much so that even with a thick mask and decorations to hide his expression, the courtiers noticed that his mood was sour.

Finally, it was nearing the end of the contest, and soon evening would come.

Surely no noble would insist on starting Day 2 after witnessing such a pitiful spectacle, so I would finally be free from this torture.

Then, two masked bards appeared.

The Emperor used magical tools to change his voice and asked them.

“Just two, huh?”

“…No. The one actually performing music is the woman beside me, alone.”

She seemed familiar, as if I had seen her somewhere before.

The attire was similar too.

‘No way… she actually showed up on her own.’

I tried to see through the mask, but it seemed to be a strong object etched with powerful circuits and engravings. If I forced my way, it looked like it would break.

But I knew who it was.

I never imagined I would meet her in a place like this again. She’s decent at performing… I suppose I could enjoy this a bit.

Should I introduce myself?

“Everyone, leave.”

“…Yes.”

As countless nobles seated at the grand table simultaneously stood up and walked out in unison, it was artful in its swiftness and precision.

Knowing the Emperor’s temperament, no one dared to question her words.

The Emperor of the Empire was defeated by the Mad King. Yet still, a molten lava of emotion seethed in the Emperor’s heart.

Since he couldn’t start a war right this moment, those boiling emotions turned in odd directions.

He raised his voice against the nobles who did not heed his commands, chastising them in public.

Thus, the number of nobles who could refute or protest against his words was quite limited. Many held grudges, but couldn’t openly defy him.

After all, the Emperor himself neither openly revealed his gender nor age, ruling the nation with the name Eckhart and the laurel wreath, a symbol of the Emperor’s legitimacy.

In the massive grand reception hall,