Chapter 109

“…….”

“…….”

The banquet hall returned to silence after the light vanished.

Except for the two corrupts writhing on the floor like worms, there was no more movement.

Gathered there were nobles, merchants, officials, peasants, and even members of royalty.

Though their social positions were diverse, the emotion they shared was the same—chill, and reverence.

A thousand years had passed since demons became mere legends.

But they were not the only ones remembered as legends.

If the demons were, then so was the First Emperor who defeated them and saved the world.

The natural enemy of demons.

The power that dispels corrupt magic.

To witness that reborn legend before their very eyes was no minor event.

This was the Empire, and they were imperial subjects.

It was the resurgence of the Empire’s very legend.

Especially in a moment like this, when the corrupt had shown their faces for the first time in a thousand years.

The exaltation rising in the hearts of the crowd was inevitable.

“…I never thought I’d live to see the reappearance of a legend with my own eyes.”

“Ohhh…!”

“First Emperor…”

“Saint Bird…! Armian protects the Empire…!”

Some knelt, others broke into tears.

Then, someone shouted from the crowd.

“Glory to Aint Armian!”

“The natural enemy of demons!”

That was the signal.

“Glory to Aint Armian!”

“Enemy of demons, glory to Aint Armin!”

Commotion and reverence fused into a unanimous roar.

The heavy atmosphere in the hall, thick from the search for the corrupt, immediately transformed into a sea of hope.

‘The beginning’s not bad.’

The corner of Fernan’s lips lifted slightly.

In a single moment, Aint’s name and feat were engraved in all present.

There weren’t just nobles there, but princes and princesses too; therefore, what happened would spread first throughout Valerich, then across the Empire and the entire continent.

And of course, Fernan would fan the flames.

‘Hm?’

Then he noticed something strange.

A man shouting Aint’s name like the others, but with a forced air.

His expression was a little pale.

Fernan approached.

“Count Daniel, are you feeling unwell?”

“Ah, young master.”

Daniel gave a forced smile.

“It seems seeing corpses up close unsettled my stomach. It’s the first time I’ve seen such graphic bodies.”

“Ah, I understand.”

The Kool house, located in the heart of the Empire, was far from the battlefields.

Since the Empire halted its expansion three hundred years ago, many noble families hadn’t experienced war again.

It wasn’t rare for nobles to have never seen a destroyed and bloodied corpse.

‘Although a count should’ve at least had some experience.’

Accompanying knights on monster hunts or participating in minor expeditions, something like that.

In this world, it was impossible to live completely away from death and battle.

“…In any case, it’s heartening to see the ancient legend is even more grand than told. The corrupt won’t dare challenge the Empire.”

“Yes, that’s how it will be.”

Fernan would make sure of it.

He nodded calmly.

***

【The legend of the Empire, the legend of the First Emperor, and the legend of Armin were real.

Aint Armian, second-best first-year student of the Imperial Academy of Armian, is the first Armian heir to enter the academy in more than a hundred years.

Upon entering, he ranked 38th in the Knight Department and was the target of mockery and scorn. But after finishing the semester, the situation changed.

When the radiant light of the Saint Bird filled the banquet hall, the corrupt fell to their knees by themselves. The corrupt magic and the darkness consuming them disintegrated, unable to resist…】

“…God, if they keep praising me so blatantly, I’ll die of embarrassment.”

Aint’s face turned red.

— You’ll have to get used to it.

— An aspiring emperor who can’t handle a little attention? Unacceptable.

“I know, it’s just a matter of getting used to it. It’s not that bad, actually.”

As he said that, his lips and eyes were already smiling.

“But it bothers me that I’m getting all the credit. I didn’t do that much.”

It was Fernan who predicted the corrupt would infiltrate the conference, who brought him to the town hall, who prepared the entire stage, and who was now using the newspapers to spread the news.

Aint had only followed his instructions.

— I already told you.

— There’s no better sponsor than a rich guy.

“It’s impressive. And not just now—it’s always been like this.”

In all matters related to the corrupt or demons, Fernan had always been there. Always anticipating their plans, preparing, and overcoming them.

“…If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead already.”

Not even needing to look far back.

When Andromalius descended, if not for Fernan’s golem, Aint would’ve died.

— But you survived. And you became stronger.

— That worry is unnecessary.

“I always receive your help, senior. And yet, all the glory falls on me. Is this fair?”

— Of course it is. That’s what that rich guy intended from the beginning.

— The Pellenberg hate taking the spotlight. He’s simply using you.

“I know, but…”

Aint hesitated. Was it really right to accept such generosity just for being Armian?

That help felt heavy.

Gardner said it was “use.” But who used another by gifting the heart of a Saint Bird, the root of an Itarium, and now even a reputation like this?

That wasn’t use. That was a debt.

And Aint didn’t know if he could ever repay it.

— Of course you can. Become emperor.

— If you do, you’ll be able to repay with mountains of gold.

“Will gold really be enough?”

— Enough? If you tell him that to his face, he’ll insult you.

— For the Pellenberg, nothing matters more than money.

— Offer them anything else and they’ll get angry.

Gardner clicked his tongue, as if saying “You still don’t get the Pellenberg?”

“…I see.”

— And worry about something else. If you don’t give them proper compensation, he’ll take it himself.

“…What?”

Aint blinked, confused.

— What surprises you? It’s obvious. The Pellenberg aren’t philanthropists.

— Even the previous Emperor had to promise them enormous profits and land, and he fulfilled it. Do you know how much they pressured him until then?

“…Oh.”

The image of Fernan, unfazed, snatching everything from him, made him shudder.

“…Now I have one more reason to become Emperor.”

If he didn’t, as the current Armin, he would never be able to repay that debt.

So Aint once again renewed his resolve.

***

While Aint blushed reading the newspaper, elsewhere in Valerich there were others reading the same paper.

【Three corrupt discovered in Valerich. Eleven dead…】

【The corrupt show their claws…】

【The legend of the Empire, the legend of the First Emperor, and the legend of Armin…】

Fernan set down the newspaper full of headlines about the corrupt and Aint.

“It’s today’s paper. Why are you showing it to me?”

“I read it and thought of something. If Pellenberg takes Aint Armian’s hand, what could it truly gain?”

Duke Gransis Vienderk shook his head.

“And the more I think about it, the less I find an answer. Schwaben and Armian… in the past, perhaps there was a comparison, but now, putting them side by side is already an insult. Their territories, their armies, their power, their wealth—nothing compares.

Schwaben is the current imperial family.

No matter how much power the electors have, the Emperor is the Emperor.

If the imperial crown offered no benefit, why would Schwaben fight so hard to keep it?

Besides, the benefits of joining Armian are fewer than those of allying with Schwaben.

And the losses of siding with Armian are far greater than those of staying with Schwaben.

“And yet, your actions moved toward Armian. As Pellenberg’s representative, that reflects your house’s will.”

“That’s quite an extreme assumption.”

“The Pellenberg family, which has always remained neutral and only pursued profit, now suggests breaking that principle and leaning entirely to one side. That can only mean two things.”

“Two things?”

“That you see Armian as a more profitable business—or that you’re testing Schwaben to gauge their reaction.”

Fernan took a sip of tea.

“Do you think it’s the first or the second?”

“Let’s suppose someone offers you a choice between diamonds and mithril, excellence. Which would you choose?”

“You’re turning the question on me?”

The duke showed a slight expression of discomfort but answered.

“Of course, mithril. No matter how expensive a diamond is, it doesn’t match the value of mithril.”

“But adamantite, mithril, orichalcum—no matter how refined—will never be as beautiful as a diamond.”

“Because their value doesn’t lie in appearance.”

“That’s my point.”

The duke’s eyes lit up.

“And what if what you have is just a piece of iron disguised as mithril? Are you still so sure?”

“What if it’s iron? In a great construction, even iron gains immense value.”

At that moment, the duke’s eyes widened.

“…So you believe the problem with the corrupt will worsen. Are you implying Pellenberg has found signs?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Fernan shook his head.

But the duke already understood.

“I see.”

After a pause, he nodded firmly.

“We’ll say that article was an accident, written by a random reporter. All suspicion of your involvement will be removed.”

The duke tore the newspaper.

“And we’ll say you and Aint went to the interrogation simply because you happened to be in contact with one of the victims.”

Fernan remained silent, but the duke didn’t mind.

“Take it as a gesture of gratitude for having pointed me in a direction.”

“I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I’m grateful. And since you’re granting it, there’s something else…”

“Yes, the investment in Rosalia’s research was real. I can’t deny it. But the extent of that investment—I don’t even remember well anymore, it was many years ago.”

With this, he made it clear that he would still keep one foot in the project, but would reduce the size of his involvement.

Fernan decided to be satisfied with that, for now.

“Sorry for taking up the time of someone busy. I’ll take my leave.”

“Yes. Until next time.”

Fernan left.

Click. The duke lit a cigarette.

“The corrupt are not the end. The Empire seeks Armian…”

The smoke mixed with the air in the office.

“The crown of Schwaben, already unstable, will become even more fragile…”

The duke’s eyes clouded with coldness.

***

“Good job, Hyde. The article came out great.”

“Thank you. I had it written by the best writer I could find around here. And the photos you took, young master, were so good the newspapers were thrilled.”

Fernan let out a low chuckle.

“And what did Duke Gransis say?”

“That it was a journalist on-site who acted on his own, nothing more.”

“He said that?”

“In any case, it would have come out sooner or later. I just brought it forward a little.”

Talking about loose corrupts wasn’t the same as talking about a demonic war like the one a thousand years ago.

The difference was massive.

And recognizing it—or not—changed everything.

‘Now I no longer have to hide it.’

He had kept the summoning of Andromalius secret because the prophecy book dictated so.

But, in the original timeline, the demons were summoned openly.

So sooner or later it had to be revealed.

‘I altered it, so I must correct it.’

By capturing Aaron, the future in which the demon was summoned disappeared.

That prevented people from realizing the danger in time.

Now it was his duty to restore that awareness.

And besides, he had used that information as a bargaining chip to get what he wanted.

A win-win.

“And what’s Aint doing?”

“He locked himself in the hotel room you lent him, young master. Too many visitors since yesterday, he’s exhausted.”

“He’s not used to so much interaction. Leave him be. Whether he keeps receiving visitors or shrouds himself in mystery, either way benefits him.

After all, the corrupt won’t stop moving. And the more they do, the more Aint will be remembered.”

“And Professor Rosalia?”

“She’s packing.”

Fernan knocked on her door.

“It’s Fernan, professor. May I come in?”

“Come in.”

Upon entering, he saw her preparing her luggage.

“Are you leaving?”

“Of course. The conference is over.”

It was true. Even if they captured the culprits, with eleven dead the continuation of the congress was nearly impossible.

Even more so with the corrupt as the perpetrators.

“Don’t you think it’s a shame? You didn’t get to present your research.”

“No, I’m not upset.”

That surprised him—he knew she had high expectations.

But he had to hear the full story.

“What I feel is anger. From the start of my research to this conference, those damn corrupt have interfered too much. They’ve made me fail twice. And now I can’t let it go. I have to strike back.”

“What will you do with the mana crystal?”

“I won’t wait for the next congress. I’ll look for another alternative.”

The Continental Congress was the most prestigious, but not the only one.

If she couldn’t present there, she’d do it elsewhere.

She wasn’t going to wait five years.

“You handle the preparations.”

“Me?”

“Of course. If you want to use my research for commercial purposes, you’ll have to make it move.”

She said it without shame.

“I want exclusivity. But Duke Gransis is trying to interfere.”

“I can’t stop the duke. Handle it yourself. Don’t expect everything handed to you.”

Fernan chuckled softly.

“Understood. I’ll try organizing something with the support of the Dragon God Cult.”

The second most influential conference after the continental one was the one directly organized by the cult.

Rosalia searched her case for cigarettes.

Empty.

“Ah.”

“Here.”

Fernan pulled out another case from his subspace.

“One hundred units. Arrived today at the Golden Turtle Guild branch.”

“Choosing you as my sponsor was the best decision I made.”

“What a contrast to what you told me before.”

She lit one and took a deep drag.

“Under withdrawal, one gives even their liver.”

“That bad?”

“You made me this way.”

“I only gave them to help with your research, I didn’t expect you to smoke so much.”

“How hypocritical. You’re happy to be my constant supplier.”

Rosalia laughed sarcastically.

“By the way, if you discover another corrupt, let me know.”

“Want revenge?”

“Revenge? Nothing that noble.”

Just—

“To get even.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

Though in reality, Fernan had no intention of letting her know.

“I’ll be taking that one for myself.”

They had been caught off guard.

There were no attacks on the way in—but on the return, yes.

And with far more strength than expected.

“…Damn it.”