Chapter 69: The Fuse
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 69: The Fuse
Ferda inspected the bag brought from the demon research facility.
Inside were research journals and several ampoules, exactly as Jed had delivered them.
He truly is flawless in his execution.
Ferda marveled at his own foresight in recruiting Jed Swallow. It had been a masterstroke. The only thing Ferda could offer him in return for such competence was a bonus—and information on Emilia’s whereabouts.
He needed to address that before the man started voicing his dissatisfaction. It was the only leash capable of binding the elusive Phantom Thief to his side. He had to find a solution before the man’s discontent reached a boiling point.
For now, I’ll just keep it in mind...
Ferda took the bag into his study. There, a girl was waiting, as she always did, for his orders.
“Mori.”
Mori turned her head and looked up at him. With her hair styled in lush curls, she looked every bit the young noblewoman today.
“Can you decode this?”
Ferda handed the journal to Mori. Linne’s journal was written in code, but with Mori’s ability, the Library of All Things, the contents should have been easily decipherable.
- Decoding is impossible.
However, she returned a flat declaration of failure.
“What do you mean, impossible?”
- These are characters for which I have no clues to interpret.
Characters for which the Library of All Things had no clues—that could only mean one thing.
“So, they are oral characters.”
These were scripts that were never recorded, passed down only by word of mouth, with meanings set differently by each individual. There was only one race that possessed such a script: High Elves.
The nobles among nobles, they were the only ones permitted into the deepest parts of the World Tree. Each individual constructed their own unique language, possessing a level of complexity that made it impossible for anyone else to interpret. If Director Linne was a High Elf, it was possible.
So that Dark Elf was originally a High Elf?
It was a peculiar matter. For a High Elf—the most conservative and reclusive race, living only for the World Tree—to swear loyalty to Godwin and fall from grace... It was as absurd as a headless chicken going for a stroll, or a catfish trying to breathe on dry land.
“Then, do you have any records on High Elves?”
- Several observation records exist.
“Anything related to their script?”
- None.
It was disappointing to leave it at that.
“Is there no way you can try to interpret it?”
Mori nodded. Then, she stared silently into the void.
Creeak, crack.
Her body began to twist unnaturally, like a marionette. Her face turned bright red, and she trembled violently as if she might explode at any moment.
“Cancel that.”
Pshhhhh—
She returned to normal instantly, as if steam had been vented from a valve. Even if he wanted to know the script, he had no intention of breaking Mori to do it. Mori looked up at Ferda with a languid expression, her head tilted toward her shoulder.
“Is the workload manageable?”
Mori nodded.
- Regarding matters within the castle and the Archduchess’s territory, there are currently no major issues. However, external problems exist.
“What are they?”
- The first is Helus Fobidas.
The man Ferda had hooked using the Purge Squad. Because Ferda had lent him Mori’s wisdom in exchange for his oath of loyalty, he was able to maintain his reputation as a Sage.
“What about him?”
- Helus Fobidas asks many inefficient questions. Occasionally, they are inconsistent, and he frequently requests descriptions for fantastical stories.
Conversations that lead nowhere are always exhausting. Recalling how Mori had just wrung her brain trying to force a decoding, Ferda could see just how inefficient Helus’s actions were.
“So he’s hindering the work. And?”
- He has shown hints of attempting to usurp Lady Valdrova’s authority eight times.
That was less surprising than the inefficient questions. Ferda had decided to use him precisely because he expected Mori to report such things.
“From now on, limit his questions to five. If you determine that a conclusion cannot be reached, you may refuse to answer. Will that help improve your efficiency?”
- Efficiency is projected to increase, but one more factor remains.
“What is it?”
- Echidna Philias.
It would be a lie to say he didn't know. He had seen her lose her mind over Mori several times.
“If Echidna’s behavior is a problem, I can restrict it slightly, but I cannot control her completely.”
- The impact caused by Echidna Philias is three times that of Helus Fobidas. She occasionally demands to be called by incomprehensible titles.
“What kind of titles?”
- From 'Big Sister' to 'Mom,' 'Mother,' and even 'Royal Mother.' They are titles inappropriate for our relationship.
To Ferda, it seemed like an easy request to fulfill.
“Can’t you just grant those requests?”
- If I accept those requests, she follows up by demanding role-play. If I accept the role-play, she becomes immersed in it and begins to accept it as reality. Her delusional disorder deepens.
That was why it was three times as difficult.
Because she’s a witch.
While understanding Mori’s position, Ferda pondered. Echidna was the only one he could task with looking after Mori, and more than anything, she had been in a state of frenzy lately because of the matter with Jed.
“Accept it for the time being. We need that witch. Other than that, is there no other way to increase your efficiency?”
Mori thought for a moment. She tapped the paper lightly with her pen before giving a short answer.
- Please praise me.
“What?”
- When I achieve something, please give me praise. Corresponding praise is required according to the difficulty of the task.
It was a truly unexpected request. To think the word 'praise' would come from the pen of a Slave Sage who carried the Library of All Things in her head.
“Is that something you need for your work?”
- Numerous papers are consistently being published stating that praise increases work efficiency and is excellent for stress reduction.
“Isn't that for humans?”
- In the city of gladiators, Colosenia, the win rate of gladiators who received praise was 20% higher.
“I didn't think you needed such things.”
- In the mining city, Ophiles, it was reported that miners who heard praise showed 12% higher performance.
She churned out facts as if flatly refuting Ferda’s words. It was strange. Mori was a Slave Sage without a self. She was the ultimate rational being who felt no emotions, so why would she need such a thing?
Ferda decided not to argue further. It was better to say two words than to waste time on such a useless debate.
“Good job.”
That should be enough. Then, Mori’s pen scribbled across the paper again.
- According to research, when an adult male praises a child, stroking their head is said to be effective.
This is getting tedious.
Nevertheless, Ferda placed his hand on her head as she requested. He felt the smooth texture of her hair.
“Good job.”
It was a blunt compliment. However, a strange light flickered in Mori’s eyes as she looked up at him. Mori, who had been unable to hold her head steady, returned to her normal posture.
“Are we done?”
Having received her answer, Mori nodded and turned back to her work. Ferda wasn't sure if it really worked.
Ferda set the journal aside and took out a box.
The medicine was taken from here.
The box contained eleven ampoules. There were three Doppler reagents and eight ampoules labeled with the names of various Knight-class demons followed by the word '(Prototype)'. They all shared the commonality of being a viscous black liquid; without the labels, they would have been indistinguishable.
Including the Bouncer medicine, that makes twelve.
Ferda thought of the man who had transformed into a Bouncer. The Bouncer was a type that sacrificed intelligence for raw strength. His intelligence had certainly dropped, and his strength had certainly increased.
If the same situation arises next time, they will be even stronger than that guy.
The only reason they had been able to win was that the medicine was a prototype. In the finished product, the side effects would be mitigated and the power increased.
That woman undoubtedly made it back alive.
Ferda had to act quickly before Director Linne could do anything. Ferda had the samples, and Director Linne had the knowledge. The starting line was good, but no one knew who would win in the end.
Who should I task with researching this substance?
That was where the difficulty began. Ferda ran through the list of talents in his mind.
Burnell? He was smart, but his expertise was in Magitech. He needed to focus on that.
Then Echidna? She was an expert in runes; he didn't want her touching this kind of substance.
President Bernard? He didn't even know what that man was up to; he couldn't be trusted yet.
Then do I have to do it myself?
Ferda had experience with various types of research. He had plenty of tenacity, even if it was limited to mana cultivation methods and forms to become stronger. If he applied that tenacity to research, wouldn't it be alright?
It was while Ferda was contemplating this that a sound erupted.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sound of an alarm bell, something he had never heard within the castle, rang out. It was bizarre. To think an alarm warning of danger would ring in the headquarters of the Red Dragon, Valdrova.
A moment later, someone burst through the door. It was Ruri. Her face was etched with urgency.
“Lord Ferda.”
“What is it?”
“They are coming.”
Ruri spoke again.
“The descendants of Silverwind are heading this way.”
So, what was bound to happen had finally come. Ferda headed to the balcony.
Dots were visible in the sky. Soon, features distinct enough for even Ferda’s vision to recognize began to come into view. Leading the way was a pair of overwhelmingly large wings.
“That must be the leader.”
“Yes. It is Lord Goz.”
The fact that the leader had come in person meant it was a grave matter. Whatever it was, they had to take a stance.
“What shall we do?”
Fear could be heard in Ruri’s voice. Ruri usually hid it well, but in this moment, her anxiety was palpable.
“Let’s wait for now.”
“Even though the enemy is approaching?”
“We’ll soon find out if they are enemies or not.”
Ferda stared at the approaching dots. His clenched fists were soaked with sweat.
Sitri.
Had that wretched demon bitch stabbed him in the back? She could have very cleverly distorted information to make it look like Ferda’s fault.
But he didn't jump to conclusions. Even demons know the value of their own lives. It was just that the demons who had crossed over to this world acted like they had no fear; in reality, demons were more cowardly than humans.
A moment later, the result of Ferda’s judgment was revealed. The descendants of Silverwind all landed and lined up in front of the outer gate.
“That’s good news.”
“Is them being at the outer gate good news?”
“If they came to fight, they would have charged the balcony. If they came to pick a fight, they would have come to the inner castle gate.”
Ferda looked down from the balcony and locked eyes with Goz. A strange exchange of gazes occurred.
“Ruri, prepare to receive the guests... Huh?”
Ferda’s words cut off as he turned his head. Ruri was looking down toward the Silverwinds. If she were simply looking down, Ferda wouldn't have reacted that way.
“Ruri?”
“Did you call for me?”
“Why are you holding onto my clothes?”
“What do you mean—?”
Ruri’s words trailed off. Just as Ferda said, she was gripping his clothes. Her face showed her own surprise. She quickly pulled her hand away and tried to brush it off as if it were nothing.
“...There was some dust.”
“Is that so?”
There was no way there was dust on Ferda’s clothes. Furthermore, even if there were, she wasn't the type to remove it herself.
“I will go prepare to receive the guests.”
Ruri withdrew. Ferda also went down to meet the Silverwinds.
* * *
The alarm had sounded. Non-combat personnel within the castle hid in their rooms, and combat personnel were deployed. And in Valdrova Castle, there were exactly two combat personnel.
Jed and Malcolm.
Since they held the status of knights, they were deployed in front of the outer castle gate.
Fuck, what kind of bullshit situation is this?
Jed cursed inwardly as he scanned the scene once more. They were the spawns of the Silver Dragon, looking like they had stepped right out of a textbook.
Silver hair and silver eyes. Gruff faces and sharply rising horns. They wore armor, but the muscles on their bodies looked ready to burst through it. Facing even one of them would be nerve-wracking, but they had come in a swarm. Even the ring that suppressed Dragon Fear couldn't overcome the pressure of their numbers or their menacing impressions.
Especially that guy.
The man standing in front with the soldiers behind him. Clad in a silver cloak, he was clearly the leader. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that man accounted for eighty percent of the tension. He exuded an aura that was just that malevolent.
“Your master...”
He opened his mouth.
“When will he appear?”
What came out of his mouth was a cold death, like a soul obtained by sweeping away thousands of Frost Giants. Jed was nearly overwhelmed by the bass tone, but he answered with forced calm.
“Could you wait just a moment? He said he would be down shortly, so he will be here.”
“A moment, you say...”
His face showed his displeasure. Even knowing that hatred wasn't directed at them, it wasn't easy to bear. But more than anything, the most troublesome thing was that Jed had another variable to deal with.
“Hic, ugh, hic!”
Acting like a knight, Malcolm, who stood beside him, was sobbing.
“Alte, Almighty God of Light, please save me.”
Not only was he crying, but he was also busy praying to God. Jed tilted his head slightly toward him and spoke.
“Just go.”
“Hic, as a knight of this Archduchy, I cannot step away...”
“No, I’m telling you to go because you’re in the way. I can handle this alone.”
Despite Jed’s suggestion, Malcolm did not leave. Whatever that knighthood of his was worth, he forced his trembling legs straight and held his ground.
Ugh, my life.
Just when things seemed to be getting quiet, something like this always came along to slap him in the back of the head. Should he just quit being a knight and everything else?
Just as he was thinking that, he heard the footsteps of salvation behind them.
“I’ve kept you waiting.”
Ferda had arrived. He stepped out between Jed and Malcolm and looked Goz straight in the eye.
“Do you make your guests wait?”
It was a jab.
“Usually, a guest sends a letter before arriving. Those who don't are called uninvited guests.”
A tense war of nerves. Malcolm and Jed, who thought it was over, realized that this was only the beginning.
“I’ll concede that point. I apologize for not giving prior notice.”
He conceded easily. Ferda thought to himself.
He’s not the type to do that.
“But just as I apologize, you must also be clear.”
As expected. If he was stepping back, it was only to take three steps forward.
“Regent Ferda, I have come here because allegations have been raised that you murdered Abel Silverwind using demonic magic and are concealing the evidence.”
At the mention of allegations being raised, a name reflexively came to mind.
Sitri?
An animalistic reflex cried out that name again. The most likely candidate was indeed Sitri. It was a characteristic of demons not to handle matters cleanly. Ferda kept thinking about what kind of trick she was trying to play.
But surprisingly, he soon learned that Sitri had no intention of screwing Ferda over. The reason appeared immediately.
“Hello, Regent Ferda?”
A cheerful voice rang out from among the men who smelled of sweat. The figure of a small woman wearing a wide-brimmed mage’s hat appeared. The badge of the Serdes Magic Society was pinned prominently on her pointed hat.
There was only one person who could wear such a hat.
The President of the Serdes Magic Society, Erdes Roton.
“We’ve met before, haven't we?”
This entire stage was her handiwork.