Chapter 58
Because It Hurts
Ferda asked Chancellor Bernard a question.
Then he handed Bernard an entire bottle of liquor.
“What is this?”
“I thought you might need it.”
“The whole bottle...?”
“You’ve had a difficult day, haven’t you?”
Today had indeed been difficult.
Aside from the times he had drunk dozens of cups of coffee, his heart had never once pounded so violently against his ribs.
He could not calm down.
Bernard grasped the neck of the bottle with a trembling hand and began drinking straight from it.
Gulp, gulp, gulp.
The whiskey was over sixty percent alcohol.
His throat burned painfully, but he did not lower the bottle until he had emptied half of the potent liquor.
“Thank you for saving me.”
“There is no need to thank me.”
“May I ask you something? I simply cannot... cannot get it out of my head, so I have to ask.”
“Go ahead.”
“How... How did you know I would be in danger?”
How had he known?
It was the technology that the now-dead Thessalos Wolcher had praised endlessly.
Yet when Bernard suddenly announced that the technology was flawed, no one had been more furious than Thessalos.
A suitable amount of anger had made everything clear, and Thessalos Wolcher had eventually realized the truth.
—Bernard was no longer the Bernard he had once known.
By then, however, it had already been too late.
There had been no way to prove it, the technology had vanished, and Bernard had gone down in history as the worst chancellor Escholeia had ever known.
In any case, Ferda had recalled those memories and considered when the chancellor would be in the greatest danger.
The most dangerous moment would naturally be when he was returning to his city.
I was fortunate.
What might have become a much longer surveillance operation had been resolved quickly.
Ferda answered his question.
“I have ears of my own.”
Hearing the familiar phrase, Bernard laughed hollowly.
“Damn it. Everyone seems to have ears everywhere except me...”
“That was not the only reason. A man who serves as the chancellor of an entire city came here without bringing an army. It was inevitable that you would be exposed to danger.”
“Because bringing one would be inefficient.”
“To nobles, efficiency is foolishness.”
“Indeed. I have learned that lesson painfully today. Anyone who used to ask who would possibly benefit from attacking the chancellor of Escholeia will begin tasting hell from this day forward.”
Bernard’s face grew bright red.
Between his anger and intoxication, the last threads of his reason were beginning to snap.
“To think... the demonkin were actually targeting me. The same demonkin people mock me for mentioning, calling me a delusional lunatic, appeared right before my eyes...”
His eyes grew moist, as though he might burst into tears at any moment.
“Do not cry.”
“Sniff... My apologies.”
Ferda watched Bernard wipe his tears with a displeased expression.
“In any case, this incident should have taught you something. The demonkin are constantly seeking an opportunity to lead this continent toward destruction.”
“Yes...”
“This continent must belong wholly to us. Even if it cannot belong to us, it must never fall into the hands of the demonkin.”
“You are absolutely right.”
“Then I have a proposal.”
Ferda extended a hand toward Bernard, who was drunk on both alcohol and emotion.
“Lend me the technology for that demonkin-appearance prediction device.”
In an instant, Bernard’s floating, intoxicated thoughts sank into cold clarity.
“Lend it to you...?”
“Precisely. I mean the blueprints and mechanisms required to construct the monster-appearance prediction device.”
His words were polite, but they were effectively a demand that Bernard hand over everything.
The moment Bernard heard the request, he understood instinctively.
“So... that is what this was about?”
Bernard asked in a trembling voice.
“What are you referring to?”
“Assigning people to watch me. Waiting until I fell into danger. And...”
His finger tapped against the half-empty bottle.
“Giving me this liquor by the bottle. Was all of it merely a scheme to obtain my technology?”
It had all been a cheap trick to stir up his emotions.
Ferda must have hoped that Bernard would release even the final strand of reason hanging precariously from his little finger.
Ferda would deny it.
Like every noble concealing his true intentions, he would surely feign ignorance and begin arguing.
Bernard had already begun selecting the words with which he would refute him, but there was no need.
“That is correct.”
Ferda admitted it without hesitation.
Bernard, his emotions already at their peak, sprang from his seat.
He raised his voice in outrage.
“Trying to exploit a suffering man’s emotions to get what you want...! You should be ashamed of yourself, Regent Valdrova!”
Unlike the furious Bernard, Ferda calmly asked,
“Why should I be ashamed?”
“Why should you be ashamed? Do you truly have to ask?! Did you think you could use a man’s life that way and win his favor?!”
“Had I wanted your favor, I would have flattered you. I would have enchanted you with pleasant words that meant nothing. But I have no interest whatsoever in whether you like me.”
Ferda’s gaze shifted toward Bernard’s head.
“The sole reason I wanted you to survive was because you possess that technology.”
“You are saying I survived only because I was useful?”
“You nearly died because you knew about that technology, and you survived because of it. Is that truly so surprising?”
Bernard could not argue.
He had nearly died because he was useful, and he had survived for the same reason.
Yet that also meant he was nothing without his usefulness.
Bernard could not tolerate being treated as such a person.
“You...! You are not even human!”
He pointed accusingly with a hand that swayed from drunkenness.
His feet pressed heavily against the floor as he strode toward the exit.
“You will die if you leave this place.”
Bernard stopped.
The ominous words seemed to coil around his feet like a snare.
“Are you threatening me?”
“No. I am merely stating a fact. If you wander outside this late at night, you will be eaten by a monster even if the demonkin do not find you.”
“I would rather be eaten than remain in a place like this!”
Ferda set down his teacup and rose from his seat.
“If that happens, everything you have built will collapse into nothing.”
Bernard’s body flinched.
Those seemingly indifferent words were not born from Ferda’s selfishness.
They were Bernard’s own innermost thoughts.
“I heard that the man who attacked you imitated your appearance. What do you suppose he intended to do while wearing your face?”
“...”
“He would quietly destroy everything known only to you. Your blueprints and records would have been reduced to ashes and scattered by the wind. As though... nothing had ever existed in the first place.”
“...”
“What would come next? What do you think a man wearing the face of an incompetent chancellor would do? He would sit at your desk without permission and lie in your bed. He would scribble away with your pen and stamp approval seals on everything. He would squander the budget while trying to destroy both you and the city.”
“U-Ugh...”
Bernard collapsed to the floor.
To Bernard, Escholeia and his research were like his wife and son.
The thought of them being destroyed without his knowledge was horrifying.
“Ugh... H-Hngh...”
Bernard finally burst into tears.
He curled up and trembled uncontrollably.
He was isolated.
And he was lonely.
“I am the man who declared that I would conquer the Demonic Lands. The demonkin are my enemies—vermin like cockroaches that must be eradicated.”
Ferda held out his hand.
“To fulfill that dream, I need the technology you possess.”
Bernard looked down at his hand.
What Bernard knew about Ferda Valdrova was that he was a Third-Circle mage.
Yet his hand was not the smooth, delicate hand typical of a young noble from a prestigious mage family.
It was covered in calluses.
He had been born into a knightly family.
And once, he had dreamed of becoming a knight himself.
That dream had been shattered, and he had instead become the fiancé of a grand prince.
Ironically, Bernard sensed honor and trust in that palm.
“I will share the blueprints and mechanisms of the device I am developing. However...”
With a finger swaying from intoxication, Bernard pointed at his own chest.
“This knowledge belongs entirely to me. Make that point absolutely clear.”
Bernard was asserting his authorship.
It was a warning not to claim even the slightest share of his achievement.
For a scholar, authorship was pride itself.
It was everything.
To Ferda, granting that meant nothing.
“Your name will undoubtedly remain in history.”
Ferda traveled with Chancellor Bernard to the County of Consilus.
Once Bernard was ready to return to Escholeia, Arwon would treat him with the utmost hospitality before escorting him home.
“How is the chancellor?”
Ferda asked Count Consilus, who sat across from him.
“The priests say the shock was severe, so he needs another day of rest. Men who were expected to die from high blood pressure or cardiac arrest nearly died by someone else’s hand for the first time, after all.”
“I see.”
“More importantly, his body has suffered because he suddenly drank far too much alcohol. It is as though he went on a drinking binge somewhere...”
“I gave it to him. It was the liquor you gifted me.”
“You gave him the entire bottle?”
“He emptied half of it on the spot.”
“Why would you do something so barbaric...?”
“Because he was suffering.”
Ferda took a sip of tea.
“He looked as though he was suffering enough to die, so I gave it to him.”
“It is remarkable that he truly did not die.”
“Rest is good, but send him back to Escholeia as quickly as possible. There is something I need to receive from him.”
“I will inform Arwon.”
Consilus looked bewildered.
He recalled the astonishing sight he had witnessed only a few hours earlier, when Ferda’s carriage entered his castle.
“Come to think of it, I believe I have seen thousands of monsters in my life, but that was... my first time seeing a demonkin.”
“There is no need to be surprised. I had never seen one either.”
“More importantly, this is the first time I have heard of a demonkin capable of imitating a human.”
Demonkin had three prominent characteristics.
Sharp teeth, red eyes, and black skin.
“I suspect it may have been mistaken for a doppelgänger.”
“A doppelgänger?”
“If it has no true appearance of its own and imitates another person’s appearance and voice, then it can only be a doppelgänger. Chancellor Bernard must have been confused and overwhelmed.”
“You mean he may have been mistaken?”
“Yes.”
It was a reasonable argument.
Ferda considered it carefully.
“Do you know the difference between a doppelgänger and the original human?”
“Because they only imitate outward appearances, they cannot reproduce what lies beneath the clothing. That is why we strip them to verify their identity.”
“Correct. However, I heard this creature reproduced everything underneath as well. Even the genitals.”
“They checked even the genitals...?”
“If one performs such an inspection carelessly, one is bound to suffer for it.”
“That is true. In any case, if even the genitals were identical, then it was closer to duplication than mere imitation.”
“That was not all. The creature emitted mana identical to Chancellor Bernard’s. It did not merely imitate Bernard. It effectively became Bernard himself.”
“If it became the man himself... then distinguishing between them must have been difficult. Sir Zed must possess an extraordinary eye.”
“We were fortunate.”
Ferda was grateful that Bernard was bald.
And even more grateful that he polished his bald head until it gleamed.
“So, are you keeping that doppelgänger demonkin securely confined?”
“Yes. We fitted him with heavy restraints and ordered the executioner to interrogate him.”
“Is he still at it?”
“Yes.”
“How many hours has it been?”
“He began as soon as they arrived, so approximately four hours.”
Ferda placed his index finger against his chin.
“How long do you think it will take to extract information?”
“He is a skilled professional. If you give him two days...”
“With my temperament, even a single day is far too long.”
“I will tell him to do his utmost.”
“No.”
Ferda rose from his seat.
“I may be impatient, but throwing a tantrum when a solution exists would be inefficient.”
“Are you saying you intend to conduct the interrogation yourself?”
“I possess some expertise in that field as well.”
A noble had just claimed to be skilled at torture.
Yet somehow, it was not surprising.
Ferda was the man who had killed Thessalos Wolcher without so much as blinking.
“May I use your alchemy workshop?”
“Of course. However, we do not have many ingredients for poisons. Will that be all right?”
“It will. What I intend to make is not poison.”
“Ah. In that case, you may use it freely...”
Ferda walked toward the workshop, while Consilus watched his retreating figure.
If it isn’t poison, then what kind of medicine could he possibly be making...? Hm?
His thoughts were swallowed by confusion.
All he could see was Ferda’s back growing more distant.
Something appeared to be wriggling beneath the black clothing covering his back.
“I must be getting old. Now I’m seeing things.”
Consilus rubbed his eyes and rose from his seat as though it were nothing.
Deep beneath Count Consilus’s castle lay a dungeon.
The executioner, wearing a black hood, was faithfully carrying out his duty.
The man wearing Chancellor Bernard’s appearance hung from a steel torture frame in a miserable state.
Even the tendons in his limbs had been severed.
Though he possessed the strength of a knight, escaping would not be easy.
No one except the executioner and his prisoner ever visited this place.
Yet an unexpected noble guest entered.
“I greet Regent Valdrova.”
“May I observe your work?”
“Yes, of course.”
The executioner stepped aside, and Ferda approached.
The prisoner was in a truly wretched condition.
His face was swollen, and his body was covered in bloody bruises.
“Impressive.”
Ferda murmured.
“Your skill in inflicting agony without killing him is remarkable.”
“...You flatter me.”
The executioner was bewildered by praise unlike anything he had ever heard before.
This place was a repulsive corner of the castle, as close to hell as one could imagine.
Yet Ferda had entered without hesitation and called it impressive.
“Your role ends here.”
“We have not yet obtained any information...”
“I will handle it myself. Consider this payment for your trouble.”
Ferda handed the executioner three gold coins.
The man was stunned by the sudden windfall, but he understood exactly what he needed to do.
After the executioner departed, Ferda dragged over a chair and looked up at the bound man.
The prisoner’s eyes were closed, and his head hung limply.
“I know you are still conscious. Now that you have become a demonkin, should you not stop pretending to be a frail human?”
At those words, the man slowly raised his drooping head.
Though his face was grotesquely swollen, the light in his eyes had not died.
A gleam of interest began to shine in Ferda’s eyes.