Chapter 14: The Swallow Trap
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 14: The Swallow Trap
Burnell had always been told he was a man who did things "his way."
That stubborn streak had left him friendless in the Academy’s narrow social circles, and his grades had plummeted from "prodigy" to the brink of failure.
But even a man as headstrong as Burnell felt utterly powerless before the person standing in front of him.
An overwhelming presence…
The man’s eyes felt like staring into a dark, bottomless abyss.
Yet, they weren't merely empty; one could sense a profound affection for Valdrova within them. He looked like the sort of man who would truly do anything for the sake of his liege.
Fearing for his life, Burnell finally managed to squeeze out a few words.
"I… I’m not sure. I don't think my convictions will be shaken by something like this…"
Business was business, and principles were principles. Burnell didn't want to compromise his beliefs just because he was being threatened.
Aaaah! Am I g-g-going to die?
Burnell squeezed his eyes shut, his imagination running wild. Would the man snap his fingers and end him? Or would he beat him like a dog on a midsummer day, just like some debt collector?
Ferda’s hand came to rest on Burnell’s shoulder.
"I understand."
Ferda patted him gently. Burnell, finding his limbs still intact, snapped his eyes open.
"Uh, wh-what? Pardon?"
"I said I understand."
"…Is that it? That’s the end of it?"
"Yes. I think this is enough for today. I didn't expect to convince you in a single afternoon."
"Oh… I see…?"
Ferda gestured to Ruri, and she produced a scroll from within the folds of her voluminous skirt.
"Take it."
"What is this?"
"An appointment letter."
"An… appointment letter?"
"It is a document officially appointing you as the Chief Researcher of Valdrova Castle. The conditions will remain exactly as I stated. The only thing left to change is your mind."
Ferda stood up and turned to leave.
"Take your time to think. Once you’ve decided, come to the Archduchy whenever you like. Let’s go."
"Yes, My Lord."
Ferda and Ruri walked straight out the door. Without any lingering or pestering, they truly vanished.
The appointment letter he left behind rolled across the floor, coming to a stop at Burnell’s feet. Left alone, Burnell could do nothing but stare blankly down at it.
* * *
"Can we really trust that man, Burnell?" Ruri asked from the opposite seat as the carriage rattled along.
She held a skewer of honey-glazed fruit in her right hand, while her left held a cup, with about five more treats waiting to be "executed" by her mouth.
Ferda nodded. "We can trust him."
"Idealists like him usually carry their stubbornness to the grave."
"I’ll make him do it."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because it is said that those who desire peace must always prepare for war."
"Who said that?"
Who else? It was him.
The future Marquis Burnell, whom Ferda had seen in another life, had said those very words. He had realized far too late how hypocritical his act of being a die-hard pacifist truly was.
"Assuming we’ve recruited him… where are we headed next?"
Ferda, of course, already had the next destination in mind. "We’re going to Halim."
"Halim? Isn't that the city of pleasure in the South?"
Ruri’s expression soured even more than usual. She usually looked at him with disapproval, but now her gaze bordered on treating him like a common pest. It was understandable, given that the city was a sanctuary of corruption and debauchery.
"If we’re just passing through, pick another city."
"No, that’s our destination. The person I’m looking for is there."
"In a pleasure district?"
"He’ll be there, without a doubt."
"Are you sure you don't have any ulterior motives?"
"None."
Ruri narrowed her eyes at Ferda. She could sense there wasn't a single lie in his words, which only made it feel more suspicious. How could a human being live so honestly?
"So, who are we going to find?"
"Jed Swallow."
It was one of the names on the list Ruri was holding.
"What kind of man is he?"
"A gigolo."
"…A gigolo?"
"Yes."
A brief silence followed. Ruri paused to check if she had heard correctly before asking again.
"…You mean the kind of scoundrel who seduces noblewomen or wealthy ladies to swindle them?"
"And a gambler."
"…."
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
As the conversation continued, Ruri’s face grew increasingly grim. A dark, heavy aura began to emanate from her.
Neigh!
"Whoa! What’s wrong with the horses all of a sudden?" the driver cried out.
She had eventually managed to startle the innocent horses. The journey was about to get bumpy because of the agitated animals. Seeing this, Ferda added the final piece of information.
"And he’s of the Red Eye Tribe."
The aura Ruri was emitting vanished instantly. Her reaction was closer to shock.
"The Red Eye Tribe… Are you talking about the bloodline I’m thinking of?"
"Correct."
"I heard they were wiped out during the Incident."
"Yes, that is the public information."
Public information. Ruri knew this wasn't something that could be dismissed so lightly. If there had been any sign that the Red Eye Tribe was still alive, a report would have been filed immediately. If so, Ruri would have known.
"How do you know such a thing?" Ruri asked bluntly.
"I just know."
He avoided giving a detailed explanation. Ruri wanted to dig deeper, but she had no justification to press him further.
A gigolo and a gambler… but a member of the Red Eye Tribe.
It was a bizarre balance. Compared to Marquis Burnell, this man sounded like a worse human being, yet he possessed the ultimate talent.
Should I oppose this, or support it?
At a crossroads, Ruri agonized over the choice. She chewed vigorously on her honey-glazed fruit to keep her brain from stalling, thinking as hard as she could.
Ferda decided to help her make the choice easier.
"I hear the South is famous for its sweet desserts."
"Let’s go for now."
* * *
The South was a region that remained hot all year round. Due to the scorching sun, the land was parched, and in the far south, an extreme desert stretched out where not a single blade of grass or drop of water existed.
Halim was a city of pleasure built to take advantage of the Southern climate. The days were hot, but the nights were cool, leading to a thriving nightlife that attracted many nobles and the wealthy.
If Escoleia smelled of coffee and black tea, this place was thick with the scent of cloying sugar. Ferda felt a headache coming on, but Ruri’s nose was delighted all day long.
Ferda headed straight for a casino. Ruri stared blankly at the chips Ferda had exchanged; he had traded in almost all the funds they had brought.
"Didn't you say you had no ulterior motives?"
"I don't."
"Really?"
"I’m tired of repeating myself. Just pull that cart and follow me."
Under Ruri’s piercing gaze, Ferda walked silently through the casino. Women in provocative clothing and people laughing as they indulged in primal pleasures surrounded them. He passed solemnly through those living in a fleeting, gold-bought utopia.
And there, among them, was a young man.
Amidst the murky, lustful aura of the room, one young man shone brightly. He had light brown hair and black eyes. He was tall and well-built, looking slim yet far from weak.
People were gathered around him. When he laughed, they laughed; when he looked regretful, they shared his sorrow. The man was dominating his audience.
Jed Swallow.
With his silver tongue and striking looks, he won the favor of many nobles. He was a man so charming that his victims didn't even realize they were being fleeced.
Well, he got greedy and eventually got caught.
Even so, it wasn't a problem. They say a clever rabbit digs three burrows, right? Swallow was the kind of man who would dig three more inside those three to escape a crisis.
He even escaped from Shark Island, which was deemed impossible to leave, and the polar ice prison of the North.
He was a master thief in every sense of the word, a man for whom nothing was impossible.
Of course, all of that happened because people didn't know he was of the Red Eye Tribe.
Those who carry the blood of the Red Eye Tribe are characterized by their red pupils and possess a unique ability: the power to disperse mana lingering in objects or the air. Because of this, the Red Eye Tribe was the natural enemy of mages.
The eyes of the man Ferda was looking at now were a deep black—the eyes of an ordinary human. No one would ever suspect him of being Red Eye.
Even if someone did find out…
That man would be confident he’d never get caught. He had the skills to back it up.
He is exactly the talent I need.
Ferda, with his hands behind his back, walked over quietly and took a seat. At the appearance of a stranger, Jed greeted him with easygoing charm.
"Well, a new friend has joined us. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Jed."
"Nice to meet you. I’m Ferda."
"You’d better watch out for the people here. They’re all vultures looking to pick you clean."
"Haha! I know a thing or two about poker!" one man shouted.
"You just lost forty gold coins, how can you say that?!" another laughed.
The atmosphere was jovial. Not a single person among them was actually winning money. It was truly remarkable how Jed could make people laugh even while they were losing.
His words and aura dominate the crowd.
But to Ferda, it looked like nothing more than a thick, hypocritical mask.
"Have you played much poker?" Jed asked.
"I only know the basics."
"Well, you can learn as you go. Isn't that right?"
"Can't have masters without suckers, right? Hoho!"
"Exactly! I just learned for the first time today. I’m finally getting the hang of it!"
Ferda had no interest in those bragging about being marks. "Let’s play a round."
"Let’s do it. No point just talking, right?"
The game began. Ferda won a little bit at a time. One might think it was beginner’s luck, but Ferda knew better. This was Jed’s process of reeling him in.
He’s good at laying the bait.
The man had incredible sleight of hand. Even Ferda, who considered himself quite observant, couldn't tell where the deception was happening. Ferda played along, but he subtly signaled that he wouldn't let his blood be sucked dry slowly, drawing Jed in instead.
"Hmm, I think it’s about time to wrap this up. It’s getting late," Jed said.
"Oh? Is it?"
"If you say so."
"Let’s make the last round a big one! Haha!"
Jed dealt the cards, and the final game began.
"Alright, let’s bet. 100!"
"200 gold coins!"
"Everyone’s feeling bold! I’ll take the 200 and raise to 400!"
Jed’s turn ended, and it was Ferda’s turn.
"All-in."
He pushed all his remaining chips into the center. At a glance, they were worth well over 2,000 gold coins. The room buzzed.
"The guy who was betting peanuts suddenly goes all-in?"
"Isn't that a bit much for the last round?"
Ferda clasped his hands and rested them on the table, repeating himself. "All-in."
The middle-aged men fiddling with their cards groaned. Then, they folded.
"There’s always tomorrow. I’m out."
"Me too."
The turn came back to Jed. "What gives you such confidence?" he asked with a smile.
Ferda looked at him and said, "Don't worry. I’m going to win this game."
"I don't see why you’re so sure."
"Because you’re going to fold that hand yourself."
Jed leaned back in his chair and chuckled. "And why do you think I’ll fold?"
"To be honest, I have no desire to lose money. There’s a certain brat who mistakenly thinks I enjoy gambling, you see."
"So you have to lose money to look good for a brat? That’s a bit much. If that’s the case, shouldn't you have avoided this place from the start?" Jed smirked. He took it as a gambler’s bluff.
"It’s not just that."
"Oh?"
"I know what you truly desire."
"What I desire? What could I want? I have beautiful women, wine, and money right here." He pulled the woman next to him into an embrace, and she giggled delightedly. She was undoubtedly the wife of some provincial noble.
Ferda said to him, "Among all these women, Emilia is not one of them."
The smooth mask cracked. A slight tremor ran through the hand holding the cards, and his lip twitched. It was only for a split second, but everyone could feel the psychological warfare that had just occurred.
However, Jed was a seasoned gambler. "…I call."
He didn't fold; he pushed his chips in. He wasn't about to let go of a game he had already won.
"Straight Flush. And you?"
Ferda showed his hand. "King-high."
"King-high!"
"You bluffed with a hand that isn't even ranked?!"
The middle-aged men gasped, their eyes wide with shock. Jed was the winner. Having lost all his money, Ferda stood up without a hint of regret.
"Wait, My Lord."
Just as Ferda was about to brush himself off and leave, Jed called out to him.
"Since I’ve cleaned you out, let me buy you a consolation drink. You look old enough to handle your liquor."
The smile was back on his face, but the mask didn't fit quite right.
"It’s on me."
Murder lurked behind that smile.
"I’ll accept."
Everything was going exactly as Ferda intended.
* * *
The casino was filled with laughter and joy—a land of pleasure where people forgot time under an eternal sun. Ferda and Jed left it behind and walked toward the lodgings together.
The moment they left the casino and entered the hotel hallway…
"Who are you?"
His voice, once full of laughter, dropped like a cold blade. Ferda complied with his demand. In truth, even if he wanted to speak, he had nothing specific to say yet.
"You know about me, don't you?"
"That isn't important."
"Right. It’s not important at this stage. Let’s skip the boring introductions."
Jed pulled something from his coat. It was a dagger.
"Tell me why you mentioned that name."
Jed’s eyes bled into a vivid crimson. Those eyes were the hallmark of the Red Eye Tribe, the ones they called "Mage Killers."
Any magic circle touched by that gaze is nullified.
The appearance of a Mage Killer would usually strike terror into any ordinary mage. But Ferda had no reason to be afraid.
"Jed Swallow. If you don't want your identity revealed to the whole world, put those eyes away."
"You’re one of them, aren't you? Admit it!"
"I came here for a rational conversation."
"What did you do to my sister?! You son of a bitch!!"
The man who wore the mask of laughter now showed his true face of rage. Even Ferda had never seen that expression before.
"Do not direct any more murderous intent toward me," Ferda warned lowly. "My maid isn't exactly the loyal type. However, if she thinks I am in danger, she will not hesitate to kill you."
The warning was purely for Jed’s sake.
"I want to talk to you. So, drop the hostility."