Chapter 69
Fuse
Ferda checked the bag he had brought back from the demon research facility.
Inside were several research journals and a few ampoules.
They were exactly as they had been when he entrusted them to Zed.
‘At least he handles his work properly.’
Ferda found himself admiring his decision to recruit Zed Swallow. All he could offer him in return was a generous bonus.
‘And Emilia’s whereabouts.’
He had to do something about that before Zed started voicing his dissatisfaction.
That was the condition required to keep an elusive phantom thief from slipping away.
He needed to find some way to resolve it before Zed complained, but…
‘For now, I’ll just keep it in mind.’
Ferda picked up the bag and carried it into the study.
A young girl was always there, waiting for his orders.
“Mori.”
Mori turned her head and looked up at him.
With her hair styled in rich curls, she looked every bit like a young noble lady today as well.
“Can you decipher this?”
Ferda handed Mori the journal.
Rinne’s journal had been written in code.
With Mori’s Omniscient Archive ability, deciphering coded writing should have been easy.
-I cannot decipher it.
Yet the answer he received was a declaration of impossibility.
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
-It is a script for which I possess no clues that would allow interpretation.
A script for which even the Omniscient Archive held no clues.
That could only mean one thing.
“So it’s an orally transmitted script.”
A script passed down only by word of mouth rather than through written records, with meanings individually defined by each user.
Only one race possessed such a script.
‘High elves.’
They were the nobility among nobility, privileged enough to enter even the deepest reaches of the World Tree.
Each individual constructed a language of their own, making it fiendishly difficult for anyone other than the creator to interpret.
It would make sense if Director Rinne had been a high elf.
‘So that dark elf was originally a high elf?’
It was unusual.
High elves thought only of the World Tree and were the most conservative and isolationist of all races.
For one of them to swear loyalty to Godwin and fall into corruption was like watching a headless chicken go for a stroll or a catfish breathe on dry land.
“Do you have any records regarding high elves?”
-Several observational records exist.
“Anything related to their script?”
-No.
It would be a shame to end things there.
“Is there no way to interpret it?”
Mori nodded.
Then she silently stared into empty space.
Creak. Creak.
Her body bent at unnatural angles like a marionette.
Her face flushed bright red, and she trembled violently as if she were about to explode.
“Cancel that.”
Pssshhh.
As though steam had been let out of her, Mori returned to normal.
Ferda wanted to know what the writing said, but not badly enough to break Mori in the process.
With a languid expression, Mori let her head droop onto one shoulder and looked up at Ferda.
“Is the work manageable?”
Mori nodded.
-There are currently no significant problems regarding affairs within the castle and the principality. However, external issues exist.
“What kind?”
-The first is Helus Phobidas.
He was the man Ferda had ensnared through the Purge Corps.
In exchange for swearing loyalty to Ferda, Helus had been permitted to borrow Mori’s wisdom and continue living as a sage.
“What about him?”
-Helus Phobidas asks many inefficient questions. At times, they lack internal consistency, and he often requests descriptions of purely imaginary scenarios.
Conversations without answers were always exhausting.
Remembering how Mori had nearly wrung her mind dry trying to force an interpretation moments ago made it easy to imagine just how inefficient Helus’s behavior was.
“So he’s interfering with your work. What else?”
-He has implied an intention to seize Lady Valdrova’s authority eight times.
That was less surprising than the inefficient questions.
Ferda had chosen to use Helus precisely because he had never expected the man to say such things to Mori.
“From now on, limit him to five questions. If you determine beforehand that no conclusion can be reached, you may refuse to answer. Would that improve efficiency?”
-Efficiency is projected to improve, but one additional factor remains.
“What is it?”
-Echidna Philiase.
It would have been a lie to say he had not known.
He had seen Mori’s eyes roll back several times because of her.
“If Echidna’s behavior is causing problems, I can restrict her somewhat, but I cannot control her completely.”
-Echidna Philiase’s impact is three times greater than Helus Phobidas’s. She occasionally demands that I address her using incomprehensible titles.
“What titles?”
-They begin with “older sister” and extend to “Mom,” “Mother,” and even “Queen Mother,” all of which are titles inappropriate to our relationship.
It sounded like a simple request to Ferda.
“Why not just call her what she wants?”
-If I accept the request, she subsequently demands role-playing. If I comply with the role-playing, she becomes immersed in it and begins treating it as reality. Her delusional disorder worsens.
That was why Echidna was three times as exhausting.
‘She is a witch, after all.’
Ferda understood Mori’s position, but he still hesitated.
Echidna was the only person he could entrust with looking after Mori. More importantly, she had been in a particularly unhinged state lately because of what had happened with Zed.
“Put up with it for the time being. We need that witch as well. Aside from that, is there any other way to improve your efficiency?”
Mori thought for a moment.
She lightly tapped her pen against the paper before giving a brief answer.
-Praise me.
-When I accomplish something, please praise me. Praise proportional to the difficulty of the task is required.
It was a truly unexpected request.
To think the word “praise” would be written by the pen of a slave sage who carried the Omniscient Archive within her head.
“Is that really necessary?”
-Studies are continuously being published showing that praise improves work efficiency and is highly effective in reducing stress.
“Those studies are about humans, aren’t they?”
-Gladiators who received praise in Colosenia, the City of Gladiators, had a twenty percent higher win rate.
“I don’t think you need it.”
-It was reported that miners who received praise in Ophiles, the City of Mines, achieved twelve percent better results.
As though completely rejecting Ferda’s argument, she relentlessly presented one fact after another.
It was strange.
Mori was a slave sage without a sense of self.
She was a being of ultimate reason who felt no emotions, so why would she need such a thing?
Ferda decided not to argue any further.
It was better to speak three syllables than waste time on such a pointless debate.
“Thank you.”
That should be enough.
Mori’s pen immediately began scribbling.
-According to research, when an adult man praises a child, patting the child’s head is considered effective.
What a nuisance.
Still, Ferda placed his hand on her head as instructed.
Her hair felt smooth beneath his palm.
“Thank you.”
The praise was delivered indifferently.
Yet a peculiar light appeared in Mori’s eyes as she looked up at him.
Mori, who had been unable to hold her head upright, straightened back to normal.
“Is that enough?”
After hearing the question, Mori nodded and turned away.
Ferda could not tell whether it had truly worked.
He set the journal aside and took out a box.
‘This is where the drugs were stored.’
The box contained eleven ampoules.
There were three Doppler reagents and eight ampoules labeled with the names of various knight-class demons, each followed by the word “prototype.”
They all contained the same black, viscous liquid, so without the labels, it would have been impossible to tell them apart.
‘Including the Bouncer drug, that makes twelve.’
Ferda recalled the man who had transformed into a Bouncer.
Bouncers were the type that traded intelligence for greater physical strength.
His intelligence had certainly declined, and his strength had unquestionably increased.
‘If the same situation occurs again, the next one will be even stronger than that bastard.’
The only reason they had been able to win was because the drug was still a prototype.
The completed version would reduce the side effects while increasing its power.
‘That woman must have made it back alive.’
Ferda needed to respond quickly before Director Rinne made her next move.
Ferda had the samples, while Director Rinne had the knowledge.
He had a good starting position, but no one could know who would ultimately emerge victorious.
‘Who should I put in charge of researching this substance?’
That was where the real difficulty began.
Ferda considered the people at his disposal.
Burnell?
He was intelligent, but his specialty was magical engineering.
He needed to remain focused on that alone.
Then Echidna?
She was renowned for her skill with runes, but Ferda did not want her handling a substance like this.
President Bernard?
Ferda did not even know what that man was plotting, so he could not trust him yet.
‘Then should I do it myself?’
Ferda had experience conducting various kinds of research.
Granted, it had been limited to mana cultivation methods and forms meant to make himself stronger, but he possessed more than enough tenacity.
Wouldn’t he manage well enough if he applied that same obsession to research?
It happened while Ferda was still pondering the matter.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
An alarm bell he had never heard before began ringing throughout the castle.
It was a strange occurrence.
An alarm warning of danger was sounding within the stronghold of the Red Dragon Valdrova.
A moment later, someone threw open the door and rushed inside.
It was Luri.
Her expression carried a clear sense of urgency.
“Lord Ferda.”
“What happened?”
“They’re coming.”
Luri repeated herself.
“The descendants of Silverwind are heading this way.”
So what had been coming had finally arrived.
Ferda headed for the balcony.
Dots were visible in the sky.
Before long, their defining features became clear enough for even Ferda’s eyesight to distinguish.
At the head of the formation was a pair of overwhelmingly enormous wings.
“That must be their leader.”
“Yes. That is Lord Goz.”
The fact that their leader had come personally meant this was a serious matter.
Whatever their purpose, Ferda needed to prepare himself.
“What should we do?”
Ferda could hear fear in Luri’s voice.
She was normally skilled at concealing it, but at that moment, her anxiety was unmistakable.
“For now, we wait.”
“Even though the enemy is approaching?”
“We’ll soon find out whether they are enemies.”
Ferda stared at the dots drawing closer.
The fist he had clenched unconsciously was drenched in sweat.
‘Sitri.’
Had that damned demoness stabbed him in the back?
She could easily have distorted the information in some subtle way and made them believe Ferda was responsible.
Still, he did not jump to conclusions.
Demons valued their own lives as well.
The demons who had crossed into this world merely acted as though they had no sense of self-preservation, but in truth, they were even more cowardly than humans.
A short while later, the result of Ferda’s judgment became clear.
All the descendants of Silverwind descended and formed ranks before the outer gate.
“That’s good news.”
“The fact that they’re standing outside the outer gate is good news?”
“If they had come to fight, they would have charged straight at the balcony. If they had come to provoke us, they would have stopped before the inner gate.”
Ferda looked down from the balcony and met Goz’s gaze.
A peculiar exchange passed between them.
“Luri, prepare to receive our guests… Hm?”
Ferda’s words trailed off as he turned his head.
Luri was looking down at Silverwind’s forces.
Had she merely been looking, Ferda would have had no reason to react that way.
“Luri?”
“Did you call me?”
“Why are you holding on to my clothes?”
“What do you—”
Luri’s words stopped.
Just as Ferda had said, she was gripping his clothes.
She looked startled by her own actions.
She quickly pulled her hand away and tried to brush it off as though nothing had happened.
“…There was dust on them.”
“Was there?”
There was no chance Ferda’s clothes had been dusty.
Even if they had been, Luri would never have personally removed it.
“I will go prepare to receive the guests.”
With that, Luri withdrew.
Ferda also went downstairs to meet Silverwind.
The alarm continued ringing.
The castle’s noncombatants hid inside their rooms, while the combat personnel took their assigned positions.
And Valdrova Castle possessed exactly two combatants.
Zed and Malcolm.
As knights of the principality, they were stationed before the outer castle gate.
‘Fuck, what kind of goddamned situation is this?’
Zed cursed inwardly and looked over them once again.
They were exactly the sort of Silver Dragon Spawns one might see depicted in a textbook.
Silver hair and silver eyes.
Fierce faces and sharply protruding horns.
They wore armor, yet the muscles covering their bodies looked ready to burst through it.
Facing even one of them would have been nerve-racking, but they had arrived in a whole group.
The ring that suppressed his fear of dragons could do nothing against the sheer pressure of their numbers or their vicious appearances.
‘Especially that bastard.’
The man standing at the front with the soldiers lined up behind him.
With a silver cloak draped over his shoulders, he was obviously their leader.
It would not have been an exaggeration to say that man alone accounted for eighty percent of the tension in the air.
That was how savage the aura pouring from him felt.
“Your master…”
He opened his mouth.
“When will he appear?”
The words that emerged were filled with the frigid presence of death, as if forged from the souls of thousands of frost giants he had slaughtered.
Zed nearly found himself overwhelmed by the deep voice, but he forced himself to answer with a calm expression.
“Could you wait just a little longer? He said he would be down shortly, so he should arrive soon.”
“A little longer…”
Goz looked displeased.
Even knowing that the hatred was not directed toward them did little to ease the pressure.
But Zed’s greatest problem was that another variable stood beside him.
“Sniff… Sniff!”
Malcolm, the knight beside him, was sobbing.
“Alte, almighty God of Light, please save me.”
Not content with crying, he had begun praying to his god.
Zed tilted his head slightly toward him and muttered,
“You should just leave.”
“Sniff… As a knight of this principality, I cannot abandon my post…”
“No, I’m telling you to leave because you’re getting in the way. I can handle this alone.”
Despite Zed’s suggestion, Malcolm refused to go.
Whatever value his precious chivalry held, he forcibly straightened his trembling legs and remained where he stood.
‘Goddammit, my life.’
Whenever things seemed as though they were finally calming down, something like this would appear and strike him across the back of the head.
Should he just quit being a knight and abandon all of this?
As he entertained the thought, he heard the saving sound of footsteps behind them.
“I’ve kept you waiting.”
Ferda had arrived.
He stepped between Zed and Malcolm and looked directly at Goz.
“You make your guests wait?”
Goz threw out the reproach.
“Normally, guests send something called a letter before arriving. Those who do not are called uninvited visitors.”
The tension between them pulled taut.
Zed and Malcolm, who had thought the situation was nearly over, realized it had only just begun.
“I’ll concede that point. I apologize for arriving without prior notice.”
Goz accepted the criticism surprisingly easily.
Ferda thought,
‘He isn’t the type to do that.’
“But since I have apologized, you must also give me a clear answer.”
As expected.
Whenever a man like him stepped back once, it was only so he could advance three steps afterward.
“Regent Ferda, an allegation has been raised that you used demonic magic to murder Abel Silverwind and concealed the evidence. That is why I have come.”
The phrase allegation has been raised immediately caused one name to flash through Ferda’s mind.
‘Sitri?’
His instincts repeated the name.
Sitri remained the most likely suspect.
Demons were infamous for never handling anything cleanly.
Ferda continued wondering what sort of trap she had devised for him.
Surprisingly, however, he soon discovered that Sitri had not been trying to ruin him at all.
The reason appeared moments later.
“Hello, Regent Ferda.”
A cheerful voice rang out from among the men who practically reeked of sweat just by standing there.
A petite woman stepped forward, wearing a wide-brimmed wizard’s hat.
A large badge belonging to the Cerdes Human Society of Magic was pinned prominently to its pointed crown.
Only one person could wear a hat like that.
Erdes Roton, President of the Cerdes Human Society of Magic.
“We’ve met before, haven’t we?”
This entire situation was that bitch’s handiwork.