Chapter 13
Chapter 13: Thorough Calculations
Burnell Marquis.
Age: 27.
Academic Record: Alumnus of the 525th class of Veritas Academy.
Conferred Title: ‘The Disaster.’
Living Quarters: A dingy semi-basement in the Escoleia slums (a place so vile the prior occupant abandoned it within a week).
Current Capital: 72 gold coins.
“When the hell are you giving me my coin back, you worthless piece of trash?!”
Correction: -72 gold coins.
A pair of massive brutes were methodically dismantling the cramped dwelling. Overseeing their work was a shorter man whose features bore an unmistakable air of malice.
Down on the floorboards, a frail figure knelt, shivering as he watched the destruction, utterly incapable of putting up resistance. This was Burnell Marquis. Bony, gaunt, and sporting thick glasses, he desperately rubbed his palms together in supplication.
“P-please, just grant me a brief extension! This research requires time; results naturally demand more patien—”
“How much more damn time do you want? I granted you a whole year! Didn’t you swear you’d have substantial progress before the year was out?”
“I—I stated it was possible! But gathering monster remains is exceedingly difficult, and I…”
“Quiet down.”
The creditor cut him off with an impatient flick of his wrist.
“Save your excuses.”
“T-that… that won’t…”
“Haaah…”
“I really backed the wrong horse, didn’t I?”
The loan shark shut his eyes in frustration, sensing his initial investment might be lost forever. He hauled an old, worn chair toward himself, took a seat, and placed a cigar between his teeth.
“Fine. I’ll extend your deadline.”
“T-truly?”
“Under a single condition: abandon this futile experiment of yours at once.”
“……Excuse me?”
The moneylender exhaled a thick plume of smoke.
“I hear you were a real sensation in your early days at the Academy. When I checked your records, you weren’t just the best in your class—you outperformed the entire year.”
“Ah, well… back then, lacking any true calling, I simply drifted along without trying and ended up in first place, but…”
Drifted along.
He was quite possibly the sole person alive capable of treating the title of top scholar as casual indifference.
“Then drift your way through another project and show me some results. I’ve repossessed several ventures from other bankrupt fools. I’ll hand them to you; wrap them up and hand over the profits. Do that, and your debt is wiped clean. How about it?”
“Could I… perhaps pursue those alongside my personal research? If that’s all—”
Thud!
A sharp blade flashed through the air and pierced the wooden floor, trembling right between Burnell’s legs.
“Hiiieeeek!”
“Give an inch, and you demand a mile. Word on the street is that harvested organs fetch a fortune these days, all thanks to those humanitarian movements. How much was a healthy intellectual worth again?”
“As long as he’s breathing, it’ll comfortably cover the accrued interest, boss,” one of the brutes added with a smirk.
“Well? Sell a few pieces of yourself, and you can keep fiddling with your experiments. You wouldn’t prefer that, would you?”
“N-no, that’s not…”
“Then drop your nonsense and work on mine.”
“That’s also rather…”
Smack!
A heavy boot drove straight into Burnell’s midsection.
“Urgh! Gah! Hrk!”
Burnell collapsed into a tight ball, taking the relentless blows without defense. Struggling to draw breath, a silent cry tore through his mind.
‘Someone… anyone, please…’
Yet his desperate pleas for a miracle to sprout in this gutter had never once been answered.
“That is quite enough.”
Except today, the pattern broke.
The brutes and their boss halted their violence. Their gazes shifted toward the shattered entrance. Burnell slowly turned his eyes toward the door as well.
“Pardon the interruption during your energetic conversation, but I must ask you to cease.”
The salvation Burnell had longed for had finally arrived. It bore a shade of ash and slate.
‘Ah…’
Despair gripped Burnell. He did not recognize the newcomer. A complete stranger held no reason to protect him, leaving him entirely bereft of hope.
The loan shark smoothed his disordered hair back and moistened his lips.
“You look like some coddled noble from out of town. Mind your own business and walk away.”
“I am afraid I cannot.”
The gray-haired noble aimed an index finger at Burnell.
“I have matters to discuss with this individual.”
…
By the time Ferda stepped into the dilapidated basement, the violence was already in full swing. Watching the man being beaten like an unruly hound, Ferda mused internally:
‘The timing could not be better.’
Appearing at the very moment one is grasping for a glimmer of light—there was no finer method for winning someone’s unwavering loyalty.
“That is quite enough.”
With those few words, Ferda put an end to the brutality. Burnell was shoved aside as the ringleader stood up unsteadily, scanning Ferda from head to toe.
“You don’t look like you belong here.”
“Indeed. I have traveled a great distance.”
“Did this worthless leech owe you coin as well?”
“He does not.”
“Then wait outside. I was here first. Deal with him once I finish teaching him a lesson.”
“How generous. But what if I were to clear his debt on his behalf?”
A heavy stillness settled over the room.
“It amounts to 72 gold coins, interest included. Can you pay that?”
“Naturally.”
“Then hand it over.”
Seventy-two gold coins. To Ferda, the ruling Lord of Valdrova Castle, such a sum was utterly trivial. It was an amount he could part with as effortlessly as throwing scraps to a stray.
Yet Ferda did not hand over the pouch immediately. His cool blue gaze drifted toward Burnell, who lay bruised and bleeding upon the floorboards. Having assessed the toll, Ferda countered.
“Let us negotiate. You have battered the man and destroyed his residence. Subtracting the damages, let us settle on 50 gold coins. What say you?”
The lender gave a dry chuckle.
“Ha! Have you lost your mind? The garbage we smashed isn’t worth 3 gold pieces.”
“Is that so? Then take 49. I am practically handing you 20 gold coins for the beating you inflicted.”
“Are you completely insane? You want me to give up 20 gold just because we gave him a light thrashing?”
“So the negotiations have failed?”
“Negotiation? You’re flat-out robbing me!”
“A breakdown in talks, then.”
Ferda held up a single finger.
“Then you shall receive precise compensation in kind. Ruri.”
The silver-haired maid, who had remained quiet behind him, stepped into the open.
“Make their condition identical.”
“I will hold up my end of the bargain, so have no fear.”
“Haah… very well.”
The petite maid adjusted her garments.
“What is this, a little brat?”
The brutes sneered with disdain. But unlike his witless henchmen, the lender sensed something amiss. This girl was no ordinary child.
In that instant, Ruri released a mere fraction of her hidden power. Her silver pupils gleamed with an unsettling glow.
Skrrrreeeeech—!
A piercing, high-pitched screech tore through their ears at once.
“Ugh!”
“Gah?!”
“Wh-what is happening?!”
The enforcers and their leader recoiled in shock. Yet an even darker dread seized them: total paralysis.
“Urrgh… ah…”
“M-my limbs…!”
They were completely immobilized. Despite straining every muscle, only slight shivers passed through their frames. Their flesh felt as heavy and rigid as granite.
Ruri swept her cold eyes over them and walked up to the nearest brute.
“You go first.”
She pointed her finger. Instantly, the air encasing the henchman wavered like a heat mirage.
Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!
A barrage of invisible strikes detonated across his frame, sending him crashing down.
“Blegh… urgh…”
Mottled with deep bruises and bleeding profusely from his nose, he writhed helplessly on the floorboards, brought to the exact physical state as Burnell.
‘What kind of sorcery is this?!’
The remaining thug and the loan shark broke out in a freezing sweat. This completely defied reason. Her gaze shifted onto the second enforcer.
“Next.”
“Hold on—!”
Thwack-thwack-thwack!
The leader watched in horror as the air twisted once more, unleashing a synchronized flurry of invisible impacts.
The girl used no spell circles; she merely twitched a finger. Whence did such devastating force originate?
“Next… well, only you remain.”
“Aaaargh!”
In a desperate bid for survival, the loan shark forced his rigid body to fight back. The space before his eyes warped violently.
Thwack-thwack-thwack!
He slammed face-first into the dirty floor.
Snap!
“Aaaagh!”
A sharp scream pierced the air. In his awkward fall, his right index finger had snapped in half.
“Argh! My finger! My fingeeer!”
An unforeseen variable had occurred—one absent from the original estimate.
“You bastard! You claimed you would make it identical! My finger was never part of the beating!!”
The debt collector shrieked like a maniac. Despite his scarred, terrifying visage, he threw a tantrum like a small child. He had built his livelihood on terrorizing others; now, his cowardly core was entirely exposed.
It was a ridiculous sight, yet Ferda remained completely calm.
“You are correct. This creates quite a dilemma.”
Ferda’s gaze turned solemn as he peered down. An icy dread crawled down the lender’s spine.
“You feel it is unjust that your finger alone is broken, correct?”
“Y-yeah, you damn demon! How are you going to fix my finger?!”
Ferda glanced toward Ruri.
“The gentleman feels an injustice has occurred.”
“Understood.”
The remedy for such an imbalance was to provide equal treatment to all parties involved.
Crack!
“Gwaaaah!”
Crack!
The index fingers of the two fallen thugs were snapped without hesitation. Believing the adjustment complete, Ruri prepared to step back.
“Ruri.”
Ferda called out once more.
“Yes?”
“Is there not one more person?”
“……Are you being serious?” Ruri asked, her brow furrowing slightly.
Ferda gave a firm nod. “Calculations must be thorough.”
Ruri stared at him in utter disbelief. If strict fairness was the requirement, there was indeed one more present.
“Wait… me…?”
Burnell Marquis.
Crack!
“Aaaargh!”
Ruri fractured Burnell’s index finger just the same. The debt collector, his men, and Burnell himself fell entirely mute.
‘Wh-what?’
‘Why would he break that nerd’s hand?’
‘Wasn’t he supposed to be saving him?’
The throbbing ache in their bones was momentarily eclipsed by pure bewilderment. Purely out of a desire for complete equality, he had broken his own ally’s finger. Now, every single person in the room shared the exact same injuries.
‘This man is completely insane!’
A deep, instinctual terror toward Ferda seized their minds. Ferda surveyed their unified condition and nodded, visibly content.
“That seems perfectly balanced. Should anyone here feel their punishment was disproportionate, do speak up.”
A subtle curve formed on Ferda’s lips.
“I shall ensure everything remains entirely fair.”
“N-no, my lord!”
“Th-this is more than fair!”
“Is that so?”
Ferda extended an open hand toward Ruri. She retrieved a leather pouch from beneath her garments, and Ferda tossed it squarely to the loan shark.
“Take your 72 gold coins and leave.”
“Th-thank you!”
The three men scrambled out of the ruined room without daring to look back. Watching them flee, Ferda addressed Ruri quietly.
“You possess remarkable control over invisible force.”
“I merely employed the most fundamental techniques.”
“Does that fundamental knowledge include restoration magic?”
“To a modest degree.”
“Then tend to Burnell over there.”
“Urgh… no need.”
Groaning through the pain, Burnell waved a hand in refusal.
“Frequent reliance on healing arts builds internal resistance. I cannot afford a tragedy where magic fails me when my life is truly on the line… I will endure this much.”
“A sound, analytical conclusion worthy of a true scholar.”
Burnell gripped his dislocated finger with his good hand.
“K-urgh…!”
Pop!
Having forced the bone back into place, he flexed the joint experimentally. Once satisfied it functioned, he wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Phew… I am grateful for your intervention.”
Even though you broke my finger in the process…
Swallowing the bitter thought, he asked, “May I inquire your name?”
“I am Ferda Valdrova.”
“Valdrova? Is that not the name belonging to the Red Dragon?”
“Indeed. I am the man destined to become her consort.”
“What? N-no way… The one betrothed to the Archduchess is… you?”
The color drained from Burnell’s face, his body trembling once more.
“I-I beg your pardon for failing to show proper deference—”
“Think nothing of it. It is natural not to recognize me.”
“And he is not yet her spouse. He simply uses the Valdrova name,” Ruri pointed out flatly.
“Regardless, your fame precedes you.”
“Why would a personage like you seek out a failure like me…?”
“Let us dispense with pleasantries. I came for your research.”
“M-my research?”
Burnell’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. Someone was genuinely interested in the very work the loan shark had mocked as trash?
“If you relocate to Valdrova Castle, I pledge absolute, unconditional backing for your current studies.”
“Pardon?”
“I will furnish all the raw materials, research capital, and facilities you require, without restriction.”
“H-huk!”
Unrestricted support. It was an unprecedented proposition no academic had ever dreamed of receiving. Joy surged through him, instantly matched by deep suspicion regarding the hidden cost.
Burnell asked in a shaky tone, “Wh-what is the catch?”
“Your findings. We will apply them toward the development of weaponry.”
Burnell’s expression froze instantly. “Weaponry… you say?”
“Yes. Derived entirely from your research.”
Burnell, who had nearly leaped for joy a moment prior, firmly shook his head.
“Then I must decline.”
“Is that your answer to the benefactor who cleared your debt?”
“E-even were a blade pressed against my throat, I could never agree. I… I desire lasting peace across the Serdes Continent. My sole wish is for the happiness of its people.”
Ferda had foreseen this resistance. Burnell Marquis was a die-hard pacifist.
“Instruments of war… merely multiply the victims. Thus, even if you are my savior, I cannot comply.”
Ferda stroked his chin thoughtfully. “So, you refuse to yield even under threat of death?”
A chilling sensation crept down Burnell’s spine. He had endured countless death threats before, yet this presence felt entirely different—as if the Reaper itself were wrapping cold arms around him.
“Reflect upon this for a moment.”
Ferda lightly traced the hilt of his weapon.
“Who do you believe allows you to pursue such peace?”
“No. It was never your accomplishment. Savoring this peace is not the result of choices made by someone as powerless as you.”
Burnell stiffened. Ferda’s tone had become steeped in raw conviction.
“Valdrova, the Archduchess of the East, enters the front lines nearly every three days. She battles beasts capable of reducing this entire metropolis to ash. What do you think she puts on the line every single time? A scrap of land? The populace of the Far East? Or perhaps my own life?”
Ferda pressed a finger firmly against his own chest as he delivered the answer.
“No. She wagers herself. While you would discard your life for shallow ideals, she wields her very existence as a noble blade to cut down threats and secure real peace.”
Ferda had continually watched Valdrova wage war on the front lines. He had secretly observed her from the highest heights. In this quiet room, her silhouette seemed to materialize before him once more.
A heavy ache tightened his chest. Ferda’s fingers dug unconsciously into his own garments. All that remained within him, who could only watch from afar, was lingering guilt.
“Therefore, I will do whatever is necessary for her sake.”
An intense flame ignited deep within Ferda’s gaze.
“And so, regardless of your personal stance, you will craft those weapons for me.”
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