Chapter 74: If You So Desire
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 74: If You So Desire
Two hours later, Ferda welcomed his scheduled guest.
“Bernard Wayne, President of Escoleia, is honored to meet the consort of the Great Aspect of Power.”
“I greet the head of the treasury of human knowledge.”
“I am truly grateful to set foot in Valdrova Castle.”
Bernard Wayne, the President of Escoleia, removed his hat and bowed deeply. The bald, flesh-colored plateau situated between his two thickets of hair still shone brilliantly.
“You’ve traveled a long way, President. Looking out the window, I see you’ve brought an army with you.”
“Two mages, two knights, and twenty soldiers. Haha! I finally feel like a proper nobleman.”
After the failed operation to overwrite the President of Escoleia, the academy had been turned upside down. No matter how much people disparaged the presidency as a mere figurehead meant to shoulder all responsibility, he was, in the end, the face of Escoleia. An assassination attempt was an event that could have shaken the institution to its very foundations. Because of that, the President had finally been able to seize real power within the Escoleia Council.
“Ho ho, living in such a magnificent castle, you must receive many distinguished guests.”
“I’ve had more ruffians coming to threaten me than distinguished guests.”
“Pardon? That can’t be. Not with the Aspect of Power—the one who turned the continent on its head—here…”
“Just last week, someone came to threaten me again.”
“Ah… I see.”
Not knowing how to respond to that, Bernard decided to change the subject.
“This is the blueprint for the Monster Appearance Prediction Device I promised to give you.”
Ferda looked at the paper Bernard handed over. It was inscribed on parchment that maintained its form through mana; it was an item that wouldn't burn, get wet, or weather away like a common book. The fact that Bernard used such precious paper even for a copy meant he wasn't harboring any ulterior motives.
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing. But, are you able to read this blueprint?”
Naturally, it was impossible. Ferda was someone far removed from such complex designs.
“The chief researcher at the castle will look over it.”
“Who might the chief researcher be?”
“Burnell Marquis.”
“Burnell Marquis? You mean… that disaster? Is he here?!”
Bernard was startled, repeating the name several times.
“I heard he was famous, but it seems he’s truly well-known.”
“He is famous. There isn't a soul in Escoleia who doesn't know that fellow. He was a man who received as much expectation as he did disappointment.”
The person who had been disappointed was undoubtedly Bernard. He let out a deep sigh and asked Ferda, “What is he doing now? Did he give up on that nonsense and come here?”
“That nonsense was a success.”
“I figured as much… wait, what?” Bernard’s eyes widened. “He succeeded in that?”
Ferda had anticipated his shock. That was why, before Bernard arrived, he had brought one of the samples Burnell had made to show him.
“It’s a Magic Stone. Processed from a monster’s corpse.”
“My god… that fellow actually turned heaven and earth upside down in the end…”
Among scholars, that was how they described a revolutionary discovery. A whirlwind of emotions crossed Bernard’s face: wonder, admiration, jealousy, and regret. The person he had turned his back on had been right all along, and he didn't seem to know how to process it.
“What is the efficiency, by any chance?”
Perhaps trusting that Burnell would have calculated everything, he skipped the question of whether it had been proven at all.
“It is at 10% so far.”
“Do you know what percentage it was at first?”
“He said it was 7.1%.”
“I see.”
He looked both marveled and somewhat uncomfortable. Since Ferda was not a scholar, he couldn't know exactly what was going on in Bernard's head. So, he made a suggestion.
“Would you like to meet Burnell Marquis?”
At that, Bernard snapped out of his thoughts and shook his head.
“No. It’s not at the point where I need to meet and talk to him… Ah, right.” Bernard clapped his hands together. “Do you remember the Grand Council? Didn't I ask you to participate in the exhibition?”
“I remember. You said there would be an exhibition in Halim?”
“In fifteen days, all the scholars and nobles will gather there. It lasts for three days. There will be presentations for the opening, the main event, and the ending.”
What he said next was his true proposal.
“I will use my influence to put Burnell in the main slot. Could you please attend?”
* * *
“President Bernard… made such a proposal? He said he’d put me in the main slot?” Burnell asked, his eyes bulging.
Ferda had seen Burnell make a fuss a few times, but he had never seen him this shocked. He was so stunned that his hands had stopped moving entirely.
“It seems it was an exceptional offer.”
“The main stage is the most important part of the three-day Escoleia exhibition. Even for a renowned scholar, getting that spot is like reaching for the stars.”
“Then it’s a good thing for you.”
“A good thing… I suppose.”
Contrary to his words, Burnell wore a complicated expression. Eventually, he put down his pen and leaned against the table.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to go.”
Ferda could feel that Burnell was overwhelmed by emotion.
“Are you going to reject a glorious position that every scholar dreams of?”
“Glory or not, it’s obvious President Bernard has set a trap. Why would I go?”
“A trap?”
“He hated me terribly. Recalling the insults he gave me, I cannot accept this favor.”
“What did he do?”
“He denounced my research plan.” Burnell clenched his fists. “When Academy students reach their second year, they participate in something called the Academic Conference. It’s a place to talk about the future, even if the ideas are a bit far-fetched. Since it’s a place for fresh ideas, being denounced there carries too much weight. It was like having my pants pulled down and being exposed to the entire audience.”
One might ask, Just for that? but Ferda didn't think so. It meant that the future Burnell had envisioned was that sincere to him. To have that sincerity denied is a painful thing.
Ferda only knew that Burnell had gone from being the top student at the Academy to the bottom, and that he had barely graduated before dabbling in Magitech. He had no idea the rift with Bernard was this deep.
“If he insulted you, shouldn't you participate all the more?”
At Ferda’s question, Burnell looked back and asked, “How does that follow?”
“You weren't wrong, so why not be confident?”
“I’d love to stick it to him. Yes… but what if it’s a trick to trap me?”
“Then are you just going to keep avoiding it forever?”
Burnell couldn't answer Ferda’s counter-question. He wanted to avoid it, but deep down, he knew that running from the problem wasn't right.
“I don’t know what happened back then, but you are no longer an Academy student; you are my chief researcher. If Bernard tries anything absurd with you…”
“…”
“He’ll have to settle it with me, not you.”
At those words, Burnell snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Ferda. Right—he wasn't alone anymore. He realized once again that he had a reliable backer.
“I understand. I’ll face him as you said. May I ask what that is in your hand? It looks like a blueprint…”
“It’s President Bernard’s child.”
“Child?”
“He said it’s the blueprint for the Monster Appearance Prediction Device. Can you take a look at it?”
“Ah, I see. Monster Appearance Prediction Device… I’ll take a look at that as well.”
While Burnell was checking the blueprint, the door opened and someone walked in. It was Stephan. Ferda had intended to tell him something, thinking the timing was good, but Stephan’s complexion was terrible. It looked as though he was about to spill bad news at any moment.
“Um, well…” Stephan stammered.
* * *
A few days ago, Stephan was traveling in a carriage. He was wearing a top-grade tunic he didn't usually wear—clothes so high-end he was almost afraid to put them on. Unlike his flashy attire, his face was clouded with constant worry.
“Whew…”
“Are you alright, milord? Your complexion is poor; you look like you might collapse.”
“I’m a bit… whew.”
“Shall I loosen the knot for you?” The servant sitting across from him reached for the string of his collar.
Stephan looked at the servant and said, “Tie it tighter. So it doesn't come loose.”
He couldn't look disheveled. He’d rather be strangled to death by the knot. The reason he was so nervous was the massive mansion before him: the home of Herman Pascal—the founder of the Pascal Trading Company, a great merchant, and Stephan’s father. It was Stephan’s hometown and a battlefield all at once.
Stephan stepped out of the carriage and approached the entrance.
“Welcome back, Young Master Stephan.”
At the sight of a familiar face, Stephan smiled and hugged him. “It’s been a long time, Old Man Sebastian! Have you been well?”
“My body isn't what it used to be. The time has come for me to retire.”
“What are you talking about? You said you’d bury your bones here. Shouldn't you work until your body breaks?”
He tried to hide his trembling with banter. The butler noticed and played along to help him calm down. Passing through long hallways, past employees and servants, they arrived before a magnificent door.
“The second son, Young Master Stephan, is entering.”
The door opened. A long table stretched out like a red carpet in the center to greet him, and at the end of that table sat an old man, like a king on his throne.
Herman Pascal. The head of the Pascal Trading Company, a man who started as a fruit peddler and extended his reach into everything. He was a dictator who once could have seized all the commercial rights of the Empire. Despite such a reputation, he looked like a frail old man.
“You’re late, brother.”
The man sitting to his right chided him. With a sturdy build, this man looked more like a mercenary than a merchant. This was the eldest son, Murchit Pascal.
“I’m sorry. It was a very busy time, so I was finishing things up…”
“What can you do? Isn't the company more important than family? I like seeing you work so hard as a faithful attendant, brother.”
The woman smiling brightly with heavy makeup was his younger sister, Tilda Pascal. At first, it sounded like she was supporting him, but her smiling eyes said, ‘The likes of you can only do so much.’
This was why he hated this house. He had returned to his family home, yet he felt like an outsider.
“Sit down quickly.”
Stephan was pushed aside by his nephews, who had already taken their seats, and sat in a distant spot. The whole family was gathered.
“Now, let us eat.”
The butler’s bell rang, and maids entered. Befitting the wealthiest family on the continent, all the food gave off the pungent scent of rare spices. It was a moment where one could encounter things usually hard to come by, but Stephan couldn't taste a thing.
“Lately…”
As Herman began to speak, the hands at the banquet table stopped.
“How have you all been faring?”
Murchit and Tilda put down their forks and knives and wiped their mouths as if they had been waiting for this. The eldest son, being the closest, spoke first.
“Lately, I’ve been expanding into the South. You know Colosenia, right? It’s one of the greatest entertainment cities, famous for its spectacular gladiator matches. I’ve signed a mercenary supply contract with the gladiator training center there.”
“Are you only going to trade in meat?”
“How could that be? Isn't that a land so hot they say even the moon is like the sun? The spices there are so potent that their quality is no less than the finest goods in the Empire.”
“Yes, luxury goods like those are more precious than gold.” Herman nodded calmly.
Murchit let out a sigh of relief, as if he had barely met the standard. Soon after, Tilda Pascal spoke of her recent activities.
“I’m looking into the West with my husband. They say it’s a land of mysterious magic, but don't they need things too? The moment the trade route opens, the Pascal Trading Company will become a storm.”
“That sounds a bit far-fetched.” Herman glared at Tilda.
However, Tilda countered as if she had expected it. “I thought so too at first. But wouldn't the story change if I secured a contract for a crystal stone mine? It’s something mages go crazy for, isn't it?”
“Hmm…” Herman withdrew his gaze. Tilda was also skillfully securing contracts, so there were no major issues.
Now, only one remained.
“Stephan.”
“Ye-yes?”
“Why are you silent?”
“I’m sorry. I didn't think you’d be very curious about my story…”
“Don’t make me say it twice.”
It was a confrontation he tried to avoid but couldn't. So, Stephan spoke about his recent activities.
“I am… currently trying to establish a foothold in the East.”
“The East?”
“Oh my, you’re starting a business in the East? I heard you were targeting the North?” Tilda acted as if it were news to her, preparing to pour oil on a burning house.
“I thought the North would be fine just maintaining the status quo. So, I decided to make a bold investment in the East this time.”
“Hmm, brother. From what I’ve learned, there’s a difference between a bold investment and throwing money into the dirt.” Tilda was indirectly asking why he was doing something so stupid.
“It doesn't look good to me either, brother,” Murchit agreed. “Isn't selling alcohol, smoked meat, and leather to those Northerners a profitable business? If you just follow Father’s formula, you’d avoid losses and be fine. Why go out of your way to do something like that?”
The reason was obvious. It was to survive in this household.
“I just want to pursue a business with potential.”
“Potential! Look at the state of the East right now. Isn't the territory shrinking even now as the Land of Demons continues to encroach? Are you going to dig up dirt from there and make a contamination weapon?”
“A contamination weapon, that’s a good idea. It would smell less than spreading manure and be more effective. If you want, I’d like to invest in that, brother.”
Tilda’s words were more irritating than Murchit’s; a spiteful sister was often worse than a demanding parent.
“Enough.” Herman, who had been silent, calmed the atmosphere. He scratched his head with a thin hand and spoke again. “Stephan.”
“Yes, Father.”
“I know well that you aren't doing something foolish. After all, you are smart enough to understand me best among these children.”
This wasn't going to end well. Stephan had a gut feeling.
“But when persuading someone, what did I say you must do?”
“You must show evidence…”
“Is that evidence in your possession?”
“I’m not investing with company money. Even if I did, I put in my personal assets first—”
“So you don’t have it.”
“It’s not that I don’t have it. I just didn't want to reveal it yet—”
“It’s that Magic Stone thing or whatever, isn't it?”
Stephan’s eyes widened. Herman rebuked him with a displeased look.
“Why are you so surprised? This company is still in my hands, you pathetic boy. Your sister and brother have already caught on.”
Even if he was proceeding in secret, it was bound to be discovered eventually. Herman being his father was one thing, but the fact that the other two already knew was a shock. It meant there was someone on Stephan’s side leaking internal information. But even more shocking was that despite knowing, things were proceeding smoothly—like people watching Stephan dig his own grave.
Before the shock could fade, Herman threw a question. “Tell me. On what grounds did you jump into that business?”
“I simply saw the future.”
“Intuition, then. Which means you’re doing this because you trust that man, Regent Ferda?”
“Yes,” Stephan answered immediately.
“How certain are you?”
“If you so desire…” Stephan’s tongue moved on its own. “I’m willing to give up the entire company for it.”
Silence fell. Stephan realized what he had said and quickly shut his mouth. His mind had gone blank, and he had accidentally blurted out his true feelings.
I’ve done it now.
The milk was already spilled. However, he didn't regret it. Because that was truly what he thought.
“So you’ve staked your entire fortune because you were enchanted by a man, not a woman.” The lament mixed in Herman’s words pierced Stephan’s chest. “You have one hand and can hold only one thing. But there are two things you must grasp. Greed invites disaster, so a time comes when you must choose.”
Being quick-witted, Stephan knew exactly what Herman was saying. Would he give up the Far East and choose the company? Or would he give up the company and choose the Far East?
“Think carefully.”
That was the final ultimatum from Herman Pascal, the man who had built everything from nothing.