Discrepancy Perception Strikes at the Perfect Moment
Right on cue, my discrepancy perception kicked in. *** Wylin. That was the name of the plant we had to grow. Wylin grew to an average maximum height of ninety meters, with thick stems, and when the buds at the tips burst open, fluffy threads called Silpel scattered like snowflakes. Those Silpel were even edible. People believed that when Wylin bloomed and released its Silpel, it brought good fortune, so there was a custom of cultivating them months in advance for village festivals, weddings, and grand celebrations, then scattering the Silpel. They were used as food ingredients and in high-end clothing or bedding too.
That first day of the test, we pored over the score measure by measure, agonizing over where to break the phrases and how to connect them. Estel strummed the lute strings beside me, tuning them to match the mood of each piece.
The next day, both of us dragged ourselves into the second morning looking utterly spent. We'd argued over the sheet music deep into the night, only collapsing into sleep around three in the morning after exhaustive exploration. For the next week, we'd handle food and lodging right here inside pillar L-37—no sleep in the inn room. Even the commute between the inn and the venue felt like wasted time.
So we left the lodging to Belldia, grabbed our bedding and water, and set up a nest inside the pillar. We weren't the only ones with that idea. Other contestants were unpacking in their own pillars, settling in to live there. Looking around, I saw the familiar faces from yesterday yawning groggily, one by one waking up inside their pillars. It looked just like the start of some battle royale survival game.
A subtle tension hung over the entire venue, not overt but unmistakable.
“Good morning.”
“Ughhh… I'm gonna die of exhaustion. What if I catch a cold like this…”
Estel, who'd slept on a single blanket spread over the cold floor, mumbled without even opening her eyes properly. Her hair was a tousled mess, but she didn't bother fixing it—just sat there slumped, grumbling. She never fussed much with her appearance anyway, and she never checked a mirror first thing upon waking. Even so, with her straight nose, graceful jawline, porcelain skin, and sleepy face, she was still somehow pretty.
“Wash your face.”
I'd already gotten up and was wiping my face with a damp towel. I tilted the water jug to wet another towel and tossed it to her. Estel didn't even try to catch it—just sat there blankly. The towel landed perfectly on her head and flopped over her face.
“Hold out for breakfast a bit. Belldia will bring it.”
“Nngh…”
She answered in a drowsy voice, then sluggishly wiped her face with the towel.
I stood, stretched long and hard, and got right to work. I picked up the crumpled sheet music from all our handling yesterday and stared at it. The song's outline was starting to take shape. Humming it simply or strumming rough accompaniment on the lute was no longer a challenge. I hadn't delved into lyrics, breathing, or fine nuances yet, but the overall flow and vibe were clear in my mind.
Especially helpful was Raena singing it once yesterday. I just had to remember that and replicate it. I could feel how to phrase it, where to put the emphasis—it was all coming together.
It would've been great if my discrepancy perception triggered right about now, but unfortunately, no such luck. I had to navigate this purely on experience and instinct.
Believe in myself.
I glanced up from the sheet music. Estel was still slumped on the bedding spread on the floor.
“What're you doing? Time to practice.”
“Ughhh… Don't wanna…”
She shook her head weakly. But she'd do it if told. Smirking, I pulled a water bottle from my bag.
“Get up. Let's have some honey tea.”
“Yaaay… I love sweet stuff… Gimme the sweet stuff…”
Estel flailed her arms feebly. I poured honey tea into the cap and handed it over.
“Here, drink up and perk up.”
“Aah… If only I'd slept more…”
Clutching the cap with both hands, Estel sipped the honey tea slowly. Color returned to her face little by little with each swallow.
“Honey tea's done—now stretching.”
“Haa… Don't wanna…”
“Up.”
I hauled her to her feet by force. I had her do simple neck stretches and shoulder rolls, tossing in a light tease.
“Your looks have second round locked already. Just match it with the singing.”
“Tch… I will. I can sing great too…”
The face compliment seemed to land well—she grinned and put more effort into the stretches.
Just as we loosened up and were about to dive into serious practice—through the blue pillar and transparent walls, people were peeking at us slyly. Some glanced from afar, others came right up and stared openly inside. The pillars divided zones but were just boundaries; everything was fully visible from all sides. Privacy didn't exist in this venue.
Thanks to our overwhelming first-place finish in the prelims, more people recognized us now. We might be the most famous contestants here. Envy, jealousy, wariness—we took all those gazes in stride and started our day in the unfamiliar venue.
“Ignore them. Focus here.”
“Yes!”
Estel, vitality restored in a flash, replied energetically and placed her hands on the lute.
It was 8 a.m. Practice continued for about an hour after that. I'm not a great singer—average at best. But I had experience teaching those three girls. Even if I couldn't sing it flawlessly, I had the head and ear to point the way.
Luckily, this second round didn't heavily emphasize lute playing, an instrument I'd never learned. Growing Wylin came down to the power of the voice. The lute was just background for Estel, who felt awkward without something in her hands.
That's why, even if I wasn't a great singer, I knew how to guide one. Estel could read sheet music, of course. But my sense for interpreting a piece was a cut above.
I'm like a soccer coach, a tactician. I spread the sheet music, interpret the song my way, go note by note, explain the flow, breathing, emotional arc—and Estel absorbed it all, pouring it out in song.
“This part, follow slowly. Don't jump to the high note right away—pause a beat.”
Estel nodded and sang along, but the high note came a beat early.
“Wrong.”
“Ah, slipped again?”
“Pushing hard here makes you crack. Big breath, again.”
We repeated it two, three times. Her voice steadied more each go. Then she'd crack again, clawing at her hair with an “Argh, messed up again!”
“This is seriously too hard! How the heck did Raena pull this off?”
I chuckled wryly too.
“Just repetition. But yeah… lyrics and melody are tricky. Hang on, look at this section.”
I pointed to the climax: shifting beats and rhythms, unpredictable high notes.
“Beat changes suddenly here, accompaniment breaks. Barely time to breathe. We gotta nail this.”
Estel nodded seriously.
“Okay… I'll do it!”
As time passed and hunger set in—when's Belldia coming?—that's when she appeared, slipping through the holographic blue pillar like it was nothing. She'd brought everything we forgot yesterday, too. Big bag slung over her shoulder, hands full of gear.
“Phew, sleep well?”
As soon as she passed the transparent wall, she zeroed in on Estel's face.
“Estel, what's with that mug? Fix yourself up a bit.”
“Waaah, food!”
“Me too!”
We lunged at Belldia like we'd been waiting. Like chicks crowding their mother bird. We wolfed down the bread and milk she unpacked from her bag, grins spreading uncontrollably. Full belly, world perfect. Both Estel and I forgot our song worries, basking in bliss.
“Practice going well?”
“Eh, so-so.”
“Not great, huh?”
Belldia glanced at the flat dirt in the pillar's center. Not a sprout in sight.
“Not even a bud. How long's this gonna take?”
“We'll run it start to finish properly soon.”
“We haven't sung for real yet! If we go all-out later, maybe it'll sprout!”
Belldia giggled, bit into her bread, and turned to me.
“Heard about those girls?”
“What?”
The girls she meant were Lilfrea, Maribel, and Clara.
“Saw 'em on the way. They brought some top-tier prof from the Royal Music Academy. So full of themselves, acting like they've already won.”
“Royal Music Academy?”
The Royal Music Academy—a dream for anyone wanting to make a living singing. A professor there would be elite of the elite.
As expected of Partita Guild. Money meant killer connections. I was impressed for a second, then shrugged it off. They were them. We were us. Walk our path.
Right now, only the sheet music before me and the girl beside me mattered.
“Just bread for breakfast?”
“Hahaha, pathetic.”
“We had meat this morning…”
Someone poked their head into our pillar. Lilfrea, Maribel, Clara—looking down at us smugly. When did they sneak up?
…These girls really know no shame.
They'd clearly come to snoop, bothered by us.
“What's wrong with bread?!”
Estel shot up, yelling. I flinched at her sudden fire. But as she sputtered, a crumb flew from her mouth and stuck to my cheek.
“What's her deal? Wanna fight?”
The three scowled. Then, with a huff of disdain, they turned away.
“Ungrateful brat.”
“Look at her with her seniors.”
“Think she'll make it…?”
They muttered among themselves and left. Rather than praise Estel, I quietly admonished her.
“Don't tangle with them. I'll handle that. You just stay quiet.”
“But—!”
Estel pouted indignantly, but Belldia pinched her thigh.
“Ow…”
Estel nodded reluctantly.
“…Okay.”
After finishing breakfast, I stepped out of the pillar briefly. First, the bathroom, then fill up water at the communal station provided by the organizers. Carrying an empty jug, that's when the familiar trio blocked my path again. Lilfrea, Maribel, Clara—all haughty eyes, smirks plastered on.
They'd come with intent this time.
“Hear about us?”
Lilfrea spoke first. I replied calmly.
“What about you?”
“Hehe, we got ourselves a renowned master as teacher.”
She emphasized renowned with pride.
“Compared to him… your teacher's pretty shabby.”
Maribel snorted, piling on.
“We're getting top guidance. We'll grow our Wylin sky-high. Time to crush that ego. Get ready.”
Clara chimed in hesitantly, gauging reactions.
“T-Teacher… doesn't have a… guide certification, so… he's gotta be… lacking, right?”
They wanted to provoke me, stoke jealousy… but I felt nothing. Interest in them was gone. Whatever they did, I didn't care. No envy, no anger.
“Good luck. And keep that knight Rock of yours in check. Almost made us late yesterday because of him.”
My response was nonchalant. Lilfrea frowned, displeased. Maribel's lip twitched.
“Not jealous?”
“Right? Bet it stings. Your teacher's no match.”
Clara mumbled along.
“Partita has… great support… on another level…”
I tuned them out. Too busy. Brush 'em off, get back to Estel.
That's when—thud.
The world suddenly turned ashen. Ears rang, the scene before me froze in eerie silence. A shiver stirred my brain, and just moments ago—our practice with Estel flashed panoramically.
Her strumming the lute, singing; me beside her, marking beats, adjusting. We'd been doing fine, our way. Or so I thought.
But now—no. Something was wrong. Discrepancy gripped me instantly. Dissonance everywhere. Beats, pitches, breaths I'd thought right—suddenly all off.
Our practice flow so far? Totally wrong. Crushing doubt.
Wrong path…?
A chilling alarm thudded in my chest.
Think from the start.
Don't go that way.
Tear it all down.
I drew a sharp breath, eyes widening. Moments later, vision blurred gray, then faded back to reality like deflating. Ashen haze lifted; colors returned vividly.
Discrepancy perception. The familiar sensation ebbed from my mind, leaving sharp insights from that instant crystal clear. Needless drawn-out notes, mis-hit beats, missing expression, precise inhale-exhale timing—all errors and fixes highlighted like fluorescent marker.
“So that's it…”
A slow grin spread. Real practice starts now. Got the feel.