Chapter 24
An Eye for People
Ask anyone to name the most renowned merchant in the Arken Empire, and most would answer Herman Pascal.
Herman Pascal.
He had founded a trading company named Pascal after his family name and was expanding it with the ambition of extending his influence not only throughout the empire, but across the entire continent of Serdes.
He had three children—two sons and one daughter—and all three had grown up being called geniuses.
Yet the one who had displayed the greatest brilliance among them was his second son, Stephan Pascal.
At that moment, Stephan was thinking,
At this rate, I am definitely going to die!
The reason was that the battle over succession had begun in earnest.
Stephan possessed commercial instincts comparable to those of Herman Pascal himself.
Whenever something appeared profitable, he invested in it, and even when the investment failed, he never regretted it. He possessed an aggressive temperament.
He had intended to prove himself purely through his abilities as a merchant.
That was why Stephan had concentrated solely on refining his instincts under his father, Herman Pascal.
Only after his father established the contest for succession did Stephan realize that Herman had neglected to teach him something crucial.
The charisma to command people!
Stephan lacked the decisive charisma required of a merchant.
Compared with the influence and presence wielded by the eldest son, Merchant Pascal, and the youngest daughter, Tilda Pascal, Stephan was no more than an insignificant face in the crowd.
Without any real presence, he had no choice but to fall farther and farther behind in the succession struggle.
It was then that Merchant made Stephan an offer.
—Although I will become the true successor, you are better at running the company, so you should manage it. I will take responsibility only for the company’s mercenaries. At the very least, that will prevent the misfortune of everything falling into our sister’s hands. What do you say?
Merchant Pascal had entered the mercenary business under the pretext of protecting the trading company and made a fortune from it.
He was highly intelligent and had also properly trained in personal combat by hiring an instructor who had once been a knight.
Stephan might have lacked charisma, but he was no fool.
He takes the company’s mercenaries while I merely manage the trading side? What a joke.
No matter how strongly money could move people, business meant nothing in the face of military force.
Merchant was steadily increasing his armed strength even now. What would happen once he was formally named the successor?
Once the rabbit has been caught, the hunting dog is destined for the cooking pot.
He could not join hands with Merchant Pascal.
Then should I join hands with my little sister?
Stephan let out a hollow laugh at how absurd the idea was.
He would sooner hang himself.
That bitch only thinks about toying with men, using them to devour other companies, and then swallowing them as well.
His younger sister, Tilda Pascal, was engaged to someone from another major trading company within the empire.
She had inherited the outstanding beauty for which their mother had been famous and used it as a weapon to build a vast network of connections.
She behaved like an innocent, foolish woman, but she always carried a blade in her heart and possessed a sociopathic willingness to stab anyone when the opportunity arose.
The only thing the siblings had in common was the belief that two suns could not exist beneath the same sky.
If I want to survive, I have to defeat both of them.
But how?
Stephan had no useful connections.
Even the directors of Pascal spoke only of Merchant and Tilda.
As though Stephan was not even worth considering.
“Ugggh…”
Stephan groaned and collapsed forward onto his desk.
He needed to work, but he could not concentrate.
People said there was always a way out even when the sky collapsed, so why had heaven not given him one?
As he groaned in resentment, someone spoke from the doorway.
“D-Director? Are you in there?”
His secretary opened the door and entered.
Stephan immediately sat upright and smiled as though nothing had happened.
“What is it?”
“An urgent report has just arrived. The same item is being requested throughout the empire, and we have been told to secure as much stock as possible.”
“Stock? Is this normally a season when anything particular is needed?”
“Would it be an urgent report otherwise?”
“That is true. What do they need?”
“Well… apparently, wandering knights are requesting monster corpses.”
“What? Monster corpses?”
It was an order strange enough to qualify as exceptionally urgent.
There was a superstition that merely keeping one nearby would invite terrible luck, and it was rare for monster corpses to remain intact in the first place.
“Do we not have quite a few of those in our warehouses?”
Of course, Stephan was a man whose thinking differed from ordinary common sense.
If something looked as though it might become profitable, he kept it.
He had judged that monster corpses could serve as a kind of trophy.
“Yes. We have confirmed that approximately one hundred and fifty are currently in storage.”
“Then sell those. Why do we need more?”
“Well… the quantity currently being requested is several times greater than that.”
“What? What are they planning to do with so many?”
Was killing roughly ten monsters not normally enough to earn praise?
It might not secure a medal, but it was certainly enough to attract favorable attention.
“I assumed you would be curious, so I looked into it. I found this.”
The secretary showed him a copied notice.
“According to what I heard, they are recruiting an official in the Far East, specifically seeking brave knights capable of fighting monsters. Anyone who offers thirty monster corpses as tribute will be granted the territory and position previously held by Thessalos Wolcher, who was recently executed… That is why the wandering knights are placing orders.”
“I can see why they would covet it.”
Those men lived as wanderers because they had never achieved any notable merit.
If they were offered land and a title, they would throw themselves at the opportunity with fire in their eyes.
The territory might lie in the Far East, adjacent to the demonic lands, but what did that matter?
“…”
Stephan scratched his chin.
His eyes remained fixed on the notice.
This does not seem to mean exactly what it says…
Stephan began turning the matter over in his mind, attempting to interpret the hidden intention behind the words.
Demanding that such men bring monster corpses… Is it meant to gather people who possess the ability to hunt monsters?
Perhaps the minimum requirement of thirty corpses was merely a screening process, and something else awaited those who passed.
That is one possible interpretation, but let us examine it from another angle.
Stephan followed his commercial instincts.
Anyone who brought more than thirty monster corpses would receive an entire territory.
The exchange is clearly unbalanced.
It was certainly difficult work, but it was hardly a heroic achievement worthy of being rewarded with a territory.
An excessively generous reward usually meant one of two things.
Either the person who posted the notice was catastrophically stupid—
Or it is bait intended to draw people in.
Wandering knights from all over the empire would gather in hopes of obtaining an official title.
And what would they bring with them?
Their subordinates—
and the corpses of monsters.
That means the Dread Queen’s territory needs monster corpses.
Stephan’s train of thought came to an abrupt halt.
They wanted monsters in a land where monsters were everywhere?
That was like importing sand into the middle of a desert or fish to a coastal town.
Are they trying to falsify their accounts? Is this some black-market scheme? Manipulating stock prices by creating confusion?
Among the countless possibilities, there was only one explanation for publicly demanding such a large number of corpses.
Research.
They were conducting research that required a vast number of corpses, and they were using an official position as bait to draw people in.
Perhaps…
There might be money in this.
The prospect was so appealing that light began returning to the eyes of the man who had been agonizing over the succession struggle.
“Are monster corpses currently being traded?”
“Yes. Wandering knights have been flooding in, and they are fighting among themselves to obtain them.”
“Understood. First, tell all our other branches to purchase every monster corpse they can find. We will secure them before anyone else. Understood?”
“Uh… Are you sure that is all right?”
“Do as I say.”
“Understood.”
“Good!”
Stephan sprang from his seat and grabbed his coat.
“W-Wait, where are you going, Director?”
“I will be away on business for a few days. You said there was a wandering knight downstairs, correct?”
“Yes, but, Director…?”
As though every second were precious, Stephan rushed away.
“Bwahahaha! You should consider it an honor to travel alongside this hero, Lovellus!”
The wandering knight named Lovellus spoke with an oily smile.
His words and behavior practically reeked of narcissism.
Stephan forced an uncomfortable smile.
“Ah, it is an honor. Haha…”
“So long as you remain beside the great Lovellus, you shall feel as safe as though the empire’s walls surrounded you on all sides. As for this body of mine…”
As the story began, Stephan sighed inwardly.
I truly have a damned terrible eye for people.
To think that this man had seemed the best among the ten wandering knights who had visited the company.
Throughout their entire two-day journey to the Dread Queen’s territory, Lovellus had done nothing but boast about his achievements.
Whenever he reached the end, he started over.
Worse still, parts of the story changed subtly with each retelling.
That meant he had not even bothered to memorize his own lies consistently.
This is why they end up as wandering knights.
Wandering knights!
Nearly eighty percent of the tales every bard was expected to memorize concerned the heroic exploits of wandering knights.
Their adventures and accomplishments made listeners’ hearts race and offered catharsis from the monotony of everyday life.
Of course, that was merely a fantasy entertained by the children listening to bards.
Stephan knew their true nature well.
They call themselves wandering knights, but most of them are nothing more than bandits and thugs…
They were armed groups trained beyond the level of ordinary soldiers, yet they had no affiliations because they refused to acknowledge anyone above them.
It would hardly be strange for them to turn into bandits or gangsters at any moment.
Several of them came asking for sponsorship every week.
There was no shortage of shameless men who demanded money and guarantees of their identity without even proving their abilities.
Sponsorship was useful for building connections, but Stephan had no desire to stain his reputation by bringing such ruffians into his network.
And what would be the point of nurturing them?
They wandered around hoping to obtain some official position, boasting that they would do anything for a title.
Yet the moment matters turned against them, they were the first to flee in their underwear.
There was always a reason someone remained a wanderer.
Neigh—!
“Huh? What is wrong with them?”
The horses pulling the carriage began to rear wildly.
They had smelled a dragon.
The horses raised within the Dread Queen’s territory were accustomed to that scent and did not panic, but to horses from outside, it smelled as dangerous as leaping directly into a fire.
Stephan offered advice to the coachman, who was struggling to calm them.
“Put the prepared scented-herb masks on them. They should start moving again. They are in that pouch, so fasten them over the horses’ muzzles.”
“Ah, those? Understood.”
The coachman placed masks filled with sacks of aromatic herbs over the horses’ muzzles.
Only then did they stop struggling and stare quietly ahead.
The halted carriage began moving again.
Stephan raised his head and looked diagonally toward the sky.
A solitary mountain known as the final bastion of the Far East.
Valdrova Castle stood atop it.
A castle built above the dwelling of a dragon who had never abandoned her savage nature.
The Red Dragon Valdrova.
He swallowed involuntarily.
A merciless tyrant who had torn apart even an imperial prince.
A demonic dragon who sought to absorb all demonic energy and rule the world!
What sort of fool agreed to become engaged to that dragon?
At the same time, he wondered something else.
What kind of person could that fool become to him?
After entering Valdrova Castle, Stephan looked around inside the walls.
Since the announcement had been publicly directed at wandering knights, a great many of them had already gathered.
“Do not cut in line!”
“Hey, you over there! You keep creeping toward our monsters. Try stealing one, and you are dead!”
“You bastard, were you glaring at me?!”
Hot-blooded men stood around their carriages, engaging in contests of intimidation.
Judging by their appearances, the sizes and shapes of their armor were wildly inconsistent, and even their equipment had been poorly maintained.
Their so-called subordinates look no different from bandits…
The wandering knights themselves, however, were extraordinarily flamboyant.
Some wore brand-new equipment crafted by renowned artisans merely to attract attention.
One had even hired a bard to recite his profile aloud.
Another had carefully left marks of battle on his equipment to portray himself as a veteran of a hundred battles.
Is that not the man who bought corpses from our company?
Stephan remembered him purchasing exactly thirty.
The thirty loaded on his carriage were also all he had.
The wandering knights walked through the corridor as though each were a refined and dignified knight.
Every one of them is obsessed with appearances…
They had not washed, yet they had drenched themselves in perfume.
The two odors mixed so horribly that Stephan felt as though he might vomit.
They eventually arrived at the banquet hall.
All the tables had been pushed aside to clear the center, leaving enough room for nearly fifty knights to stand apart from one another.
“Come to think of it…”
Lovellus spoke to him.
“Have you ever seen the man who will become master of this castle?”
The fact that he was asking about someone else instead of speaking about himself was proof that he was nervous.
Stephan shook his head.
“I have never seen him, but I heard he belongs to House Rosnova.”
“Ah! House Rosnova! The sword that protects the empire. But why was he selected as the Dread Queen’s fiancé?”
“I heard that his body is weak. He also has blue eyes rather than the distinctive eyes of House Rosnova, so they believed he was almost certainly an illegitimate child. Apparently, the family searched for an excuse to cast him out… but he accepted the engagement and is now both the Dread Queen’s fiancé and the regent of her territory.”
“Oho… Is that so?”
Lovellus scratched his chin after hearing that.
A greed far beyond his station appeared in his eyes.
“…If some defective castoff expelled by his family can act like a king merely by becoming her fiancé… perhaps, if things go well, I could take that position for myself.”
Words suited to a common bandit spilled shamelessly from the knight’s mouth.
They had even entered the territory ruled by the very “defective castoff” he was mocking, yet he seemed entirely unaware of the danger.
To think a bastard like this was once a scion of a knightly family known as one of the swords of the Arken Empire…
Stephan had known that the empire’s knights were decaying, but witnessing a depth lower than rock bottom made him want to sigh.
However, Stephan was a merchant.
He knew that a blade was often closer than the law, and he was a man capable of offering flattering words anywhere and at any time.
“Haha… Y-Yes, perhaps you could.”
Even while coming here, Stephan had not expected much from Ferda.
There were rumors that he had executed Thessalos Wolcher and brought the lords of the Far East under his control, but all rumors were exaggerated.
What could a man expelled because he had nothing worthwhile possibly accomplish…?
Stephan set aside his expectations of Ferda and waited.
Then, when the master of the castle finally appeared, he realized once again—
that he had a damned terrible eye for people.