Chapter 105

I Married the Dragon I Killed
Chapter 105: Life or Death

Life or Death
Chapter 105. Salmi o Jugeum

— What does that mean?
— I won’t tell the others, as it would only cause panic, but do you realize that what you did is no different from suicide?
Hanson shouted at those words.
— What’s the danger? If your administrator lays a hand on me anyway, only you will lose…
— What nonsense. Just a moment ago you almost lost your life.
— Administrator Isabella didn’t do anything, so why would I lose my life?
— People like you wouldn’t know, but I used to be a mercenary. I traveled the Serdes Continent and did every job that paid. During that time, I once encountered dragon spawn.
Normally, one would have thought it was just the usual boasting.
But that middle-aged man had bloodthirsty eyes that no simple braggart could possess.
— That day we were hunting an ogre. Since the target was what it was, we brought many mercenaries and went in fully prepared. It was quite a fierce battle. The bastard’s regeneration and our preparation were more or less evenly matched. Then, a newcomer appeared. It was a dragon spawn.
The middle-aged foreman swallowed hard.
— Whether that ogre was the dragon spawn’s target, or we simply caught it together in a pincer attack. No, “pincer attack” doesn’t even cover it. The moment it appeared, it slit its throat immediately, and we were only clawing at the corpse.
— What does that have to do with now?
— Listen to the end. This is where it begins. After the ogre died, it cut off its ear and threw it to our mercenary captain.
— Proof of subjugation?
— Exactly. Since the dragon spawn stole the credit, it showed its own kind of favor.
— It sounds like it was resolved amicably, so why tell this story?
— We thought so too. But it wasn’t. Our mercenary captain was a former knight. And he had no fear. He got rough with that dragon spawn. Do you want to know what happened?
He made a throat-slitting gesture with a hardened expression.
— It slit his throat right there.
— …
— Do you think he was the only one who died? No. It didn’t stop the ruthless slaughter until it brought down ten more, including him.
— Why would it do that…?
— Simple. Because he talked back. A young and weak thing acting out of pride is something they cannot permit. Do you realize now what you have done?
The foreman pointed with his chin toward somewhere.
It was where the Armored Knight had been sitting.
— If that noble person hadn’t stopped her, it wouldn’t have ended with just you; several more here would have had to die.
The middle-aged foreman said that, slung his tools over his shoulder, and walked out.
Hanson couldn’t follow him.
He was turning the man’s words over in his mind.
How absurd the thing he had done was.
“Even so, my thinking was correct.”
Wasn’t it because the Armored Knight was there that he avoided death?
In any case, there was no doubt that things were flowing as he intended.
Meanwhile, Isabella also reflected on a strange feeling.
“Instinct overwhelmed me for a moment.”
The instinct of a dragon spawn boils down solely to honor.
The noblest under heaven are Father and Mother,
Those who stain their name will be made an example of and punished severely,
Those who kill their child will be pursued to the ends of hell and painfully killed.
That nature momentarily overwhelmed her.
It couldn’t be helped.
Even among dragon spawn, when looking at the same humans, there are levels.
Those worthy of respect are duly respected, but anyone else is at the level of dogs or cattle.
The only thing better about them is that words communicate a little.
Isabella, a daughter of Iorga, was the same.
Ferda is Valdrova’s fiancé and a capable regent, so she respects him.
William possesses outstanding martial prowess and mental strength that surpasses hers, so she respects him.
But Hanson?
He is no different from ordinary humans.
In other words, he was at the level of a talking dog.
She even brought a special treat, but instead of wagging his tail, the insolent bastard bit his master’s hand.
She had arrived with an amicable solution and obtained approval, and he says to give more?
A dog that bites people must die.
She was overcome by that exact thought and attempted to kill Hanson.
Just that would have been enough as an example.
“Until that man blocked me.”
Armored Knight.
Tall stature, solid build.
Armor that vision magic cannot penetrate.
Outwardly it looks like something village blacksmiths could make, but there is no doubt that it uses top-quality materials.
“If that man hadn’t blocked me…”
Isabella would have acted on instinct.
Hanson’s head would have rolled across the floor, or if he was lucky, his entire body would have been shattered.
It definitely wouldn’t have had a good end.
“I thought he was just clumsy and naive, but he has surprisingly sharp instincts.”
Isabella also began to take an interest in him.
It was a waste to leave him as a simple laborer.
The Armored Knight, Valdrova, thought.
“Why are they all sitting here?”
This was before Isabella entered.
The atmosphere was not ordinary.
What could be seen were foreman-level figures.
Crammed into a cramped office, waiting for something.
“The site manager definitely said something…”
Hanson had said something before this happened.
But the story became so long that she didn’t catch the point.
One thing she understood for sure.
— We desperately need the Knight’s help.
Help is desperately needed.
So she didn’t know what the job was, but she decided to help.
“For this village!”
She assumed it would definitely be something that required strength.
But the job was simply sitting next to Hanson.
No matter how much she looked at it, it didn’t seem like help was needed.
“Boring.”
Not moving made her feel like her muscles were going numb.
She wanted to get up, but this atmosphere paralyzed her.
“Let’s wait a little longer…”
Thinking that, she sat for hours.
Shortly after, someone entered.
“The daughter of Iorga.”
At the same time, Ruri’s warning surfaced.
— Please, do not let it be known at all that the Master posed as a laborer here. Especially, those damned water lizards must not find out.
She had made such a fierce expression that she couldn’t ignore it.
She felt nervous for no reason.
Worried that she would be discovered…
Meanwhile, the conversation continued.
Near the end of Isabella’s words, she managed to grasp the essence.
— Please, cease the ongoing strike and return to your livelihoods.
Livelihoods.
It means going to work.
Valdrova finally realized.
“So that was it!”
The reason they had been waiting was because that descendant of Iorga was preventing them from doing so.
That’s why they waited here.
“They were angry because they were prevented from working.”
Even Valdrova would have been angry.
She rejoiced alone, thinking that she shared something with the workers.
“Now I should go to work.”
But it was then that.
— No.
Hanson rejected it.
“Why?”
The person who said not to work was clearly the daughter of Iorga, so why refuse when told to work?
Valdrova could not understand Hanson’s action.
“Working gives money, so why not work?”
Working gives money.
Money buys delicious food.
They were even offering more money, so she couldn’t understand why they rejected it.
Above all,
“I want to work.”
Valdrova wanted to quickly see one more building rise.
Unable to help it, Valdrova moved and tapped him repeatedly on the shoulder.
Fortunately, the message got through, Hanson said nothing more, and the foremen returned outside to work.
Valdrova looked toward the sky.
The sun was already slanting heavily toward the west.
“If I don’t finish today’s quota soon, it will be bad.”
It wasn’t as if something was chasing her.
She purely liked working.
That was why she liked Mondays more than Sundays, when others rested.
“I have to go to work.”
Red Dragon, Valdrova.
Today as well, cheerfully heading to the construction site.
Council day.
They used the building designated as the Hestia Branch of the Pascal Company as today’s meeting room.
The reason was extremely simple.
He simply didn’t want to bring those insolent bastards into his nest.
Ruri agreed with that intention, and only then did Isabella yield.
Of course, Isabella explained the reason differently.
She justified it by saying it was to examine the conditions of Hestia Village and because she trusted the village’s buildings.
Given that her reputation was originally good, it was not difficult to accept it as a show of concern for the commoners.
She was boosting her good reputation.
Ferda, having finished the morning preparations, headed to the council hall.
When Ferda entered, everyone stood up and paid their respects to him.
— Let us begin the council.
The moment Ferda sat down, Isabella became the moderator and opened the session.
Ferda followed the formalities by reciting the phrases while simultaneously scanning everyone’s expressions.
In front of him, many people were already seated.
Everyone had ‘Life or Death’ written on their headbands.
“Should I just kill them all?”
They are practically begging to be killed, so wouldn’t it be polite to kill them?
Or make them suffer enough to wish for death.
The fact that he couldn’t do either and only had to talk nonsense was agonizing for Ferda.
Even so, this was to be expected.
Ferda could also see an unexpected face.
An incredibly familiar face.
No, not a familiar face, but a helmet.
“Armored Knight.”
His feelings toward him were a bit more complex.
The bastard who turned away, rejecting the offer of a knighthood.
To say it wasn’t infuriating would be a lie.
He spoke like that, and then rejected his goodwill.
“No, I understand the part about rejecting it.”
But is the reason to cause trouble by participating here?
“Don’t tell me…….”
Ferda thought of a possibility.
“What if that bastard is the real mastermind behind this situation?”
It was possible.
What if he is aiming for a noble position with territory, beyond just being a knight?
There are many bastards in the Empire who do that.
What if that bastard is plotting a grand plan for his comeback?
“Besides, there is no risk of failure.”
He sets up Hanson as a puppet president, and when things turn unfavorable, he simply withdraws.
“Pathetic.”
The humiliation that arose with the betrayal.
He thought he was something noble, but to be so vulgar.
“Someday I will rip that bastard’s mouth open.”
Ferda looked at the Armored Knight with eyes mixed with hatred.
Valdrova, inside the armor, saw those eyes.
“Ferda-san is glaring at me with fury…….”
Not an ounce of kindness in that gaze.
Yet strangely, she didn’t hate those eyes.
She desperately suppressed her pounding heart.
The first to speak, announcing the opening, was Hanson, the executive labor representative.
— We sincerely thank the Regent and the Administrator for lending an ear to the common people.
Hanson spoke, reading what he had written.
— Last autumn, we came here as laborers helping to build Hestia Village, and for the first time set foot on this land.
The beginning was a story with decent ambition.
— However, due to recent unfortunate events, 30 casualties occurred, plunging the village into great chaos.
There was chaos, but not enough to cause an uproar, he had said.
It was unknown whether Hanson did not know that fact, or if he knew it but had the shamelessness to pretend otherwise.
— If you are a wise king and leader, we carefully plead with you to listen to the plea of the common people.
First, we request that you increase the wages of construction workers.
Second, we request that you establish a construction union.
His demands seemed like two, but in reality were three.
Money and shelter.
“And power.”
Wherever people gather, power is born.
Unions or guilds are power institutions created in the name of representing the voices of commoners.
“A certain person wrote this for them.”
Judging by the vocabulary and the reading style, he couldn’t believe Hanson had written it himself.
“Did that bastard write it?”
If he can write at that level, it adds weight to Ferda’s theory about the brain behind it all.
“Anyway, everything is as expected.”
Precisely, it was Stefan’s prediction.
Having run a large company under his father, he was astute in these things and grasped them quickly.
— Yes.
Ferda asked just in case.
— What will you do if I ignore that request?
Hanson tensed at those words.
Though young, he felt overwhelmed by eyes unfitting for his age.
So Hanson gave a secret signal to Valdrova.
“My turn to move.”
Then she moved smoothly and placed her hand on the pen and paper.
What she was to write was the phrase on their foreheads.
“Write ‘Life or Death’…… right?”
Valdrova tensed.
Everyone’s gaze was upon her.
She thought that just writing letters would be fine.
But,
“……How do you write this?”
She forgot how to write letters.
No, closer to not knowing.
Reading was familiar to her, so she could read letters, but writing was a different problem.
Input works, but output does not.
That is natural; she could count on one hand the times she had written letters in her life.
Naturally, she never practiced and didn’t remember the spelling correctly either.
“Life or Death, Life or Death.”
Muttering forcefully in her head, she tried to imitate the letters.
What she wrote was this.
— Salmi o Jugeum.
— ……?
— ……?
A cheap-looking handwriting and, to top it off, with incorrect spelling.
Not only Ferda, but even Representative Hanson was shocked into a cold sweat.
Ferda confirmed one thing upon looking at those letters.
“There is no mastermind behind this or anything.”
It was the moment when contempt turned into pity.