Chapter 131

The count, after dealing with the egg, took charge of the cleanup operations.

Bercheff had not defended its territory with its own forces alone.

Without the help of the Mercenary King, they would never have defeated Kimaris.

Without the reinforcements from the Cult of the Dragon God, the walls would have fallen.

And, above all, without Fernan—who hired the Mercenary King and held the line with golems until reinforcements arrived—that hopeful outcome would never have been possible.

Even though the Empire had an emperor, in practice, the nobles were little less than kings over their own domains.

The Armian Empire was a mosaic of hundreds of states, and every favor received had to be repaid with appropriate compensation.

Those who offered help had the right to demand it.

However, Bercheff’s situation wasn’t too bad.

The Cult of the Dragon God, which under normal conditions would have demanded an immense price, was content with taking half of the beast corpses scattered beyond the wall.

“That the egg was destroyed…”

The priests of the cult left crying, but resigned.

“I have nothing to negotiate with you. You’re not my employer.”

The Mercenary King also demanded nothing. He had no right to.

Thus, the only ones with whom Bercheff needed to settle accounts were Fernan and House Pellenberg.

***

In the audience chamber of Bercheff’s castle, Fernan sat facing the count.

“Speak, Fernan Pellenberg.”

It was the count who opened the conversation. Fernan took a sip of his hot coffee before speaking.

“First of all, we will provide the materials to repair the wall free of charge.”

“Free? I suppose you mean you’ll sell them.”

“No. Free.”

“Free…”

The count frowned. An offer like that couldn’t be refused, but it could only mean that a massive request was coming.

“What are you aiming to get with so much preamble?”

“We don’t want much.”

“Then say it already. As long as you don’t ask for half of Bercheff, I can accept almost anything.”

In other circumstances, they would have fought over every detail in a tough negotiation. But Bercheff had received too much.

Still, he wasn’t willing to give everything away without hearing first.

“Then I’ll be direct. I want exclusive distribution rights for Bercheff’s weapons and armor across the continent.”

Bercheff’s weapons were famous throughout the Empire, but they had always strictly controlled their exports. The threat of monsters and demons didn’t allow them to divert resources, and they didn’t produce enough to sell surpluses anyway.

“Even if the number of monsters has decreased, there’s still danger. We don’t have the capacity to produce more.”

“Then we’ll invest.”

“You want to steal our technology?”

“No. Just invest.”

At heart, Fernan did want to acquire their forging techniques, but he knew they would never hand them over.

“Expand the workshops with Pellenberg money. We’ll only take a share of the stocks and profits. Everything else will remain Bercheff’s.”

The count snorted.

“Pellenberg signing a deal where they don’t lose anything?”

“It’s not a loss.”

“What do you really want?”

Fernan, who had already exchanged letters with his father, revealed the key proposal.

“The rights to exploit all the mines in the wastelands.”

“…The wastelands?”

Bercheff had always been besieged by monsters. Between its fortresses and cities stretched a vast undeveloped territory, reserved as a buffer zone and for evacuations.

An area as large as a small kingdom, with not a single village or mining operation.

But it wasn’t useless land. Old research from the Golden Turtle Company revealed that it contained enormous reserves of resources untouched by human hands.

“All of them?”

“Yes, all. And I believe we’ve earned it.”

The count laughed bitterly.

“I’d never considered it, but that’s a shrewd request.”

War was inevitable. Kimaris wouldn’t be the last demon, and one day another horde would march across the continent.

And war devoured resources—food, horses, weapons.

The essential element was minerals to forge weapons.

‘Extract ore from the wastelands, forge weapons in Bercheff’s workshops, and distribute them with the Golden Turtle’s seal. Plus, with the reputation that Bercheff’s swords killed a demon.’

It was a guaranteed business that could only prosper.

The count understood.

“Fine. The demons will return, and there will be war. It’s not bad for Bercheff to have a stake in it too.”

The important thing would be to define percentages—the workshop shares, the mine taxes.

“Then let’s negotiate.”

The discussion lasted two days.

***

When it ended, the count called for his daughter.

“Luina.”

“Yes, Father.”

“I’ve handed over Bercheff’s foundation to that man.”

It wasn’t entirely true, but he had given more than he would have in any other situation.

“Now it’s your turn to get it back.”

“Me? How…?”

“A marriage with the Pellenbergs…”

“…I’m not thinking about marriage yet. I want to become a Royal Knight.”

“I see you’re not denying it.”

“I…”

Luina’s face flushed red.

***

‘I thought we could drag it out for at least a week, but it ended quickly.’

In the end, hiring the Mercenary King had been the most decisive move.

Without him, the count wouldn’t have ended up negotiating—he’d have been beheaded by Kimaris’s sword.

In any case, with this, Fernan and House Pellenberg had extracted everything they could from Bercheff.

They could have squeezed out even more, but maintaining good relations with the count and with Luina was better.

And as for the Mercenary King—

“It was a satisfactory deal.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Where there are gains, there are also losses.

Claiming he had fought a demon, the Mercenary King tried to charge an outrageous sum.

He called it a “standard price,” although there was no precedent—it was the first time anyone had accepted a demon-hunting job, so the standard was whatever he said it was.

Fernan tried to lower it as much as possible, but cutting it down too much was impossible.

He wasn’t just any mercenary; he was the Mercenary King, and he had killed a demon.

Besides, for the future, it was worth accepting some loss.

“So now I want your answer.”

“Is it certain more demons will appear?”

“Not certain yet, but we judge it very likely.”

“And was it really necessary to involve me? This time there was no other choice, but House Pellenberg could have handled it alone.”

Fernan knew that, after this, his house could defeat a demon on its own—especially with Aint’s help.

But there was no reason for them to shoulder all the burden alone.

“If it were within Pellenberg’s territory, yes. But outside…”

“Right, you’re correct. And after this, there’ll be fools who think two Royal Knights are enough to defeat a demon.”

A demon had officially appeared for the first time in a thousand years.

The entire continent was on alert.

But some were deluding themselves into thinking it wasn’t that serious, because Kimaris had fallen to just two Royal Knights.

They said—

‘Humanity has progressed in a thousand years. Maybe we can face the demons.’

Nonsense.

Only someone who had never seen one could believe that.

‘What happens with the other 62 if it takes two knights for just one?’

But there were plenty of such fools.

“As for me, I have no complaints. It’s been a long time since a battle made my heart tremble. And I was well paid. I can’t ask for more as a mercenary.”

Plus, his fame was skyrocketing—the Mercenary King who had slain a demon.

His authority in the guild was greater than ever.

“But next time, don’t count on me if there are only two Royal Knights or one Archmage. I won’t take that kind of risk again.”

“I know. If they hadn’t trained together for years, they wouldn’t have managed it.”

Fernan understood it wasn’t because they were two Royal Knights—it was because it was those two: the count and the Mercenary King.

“By the way, is Varus okay?”

The Mercenary King hesitated for a moment before sneering.

“Yes. Someone made sure he had enough to cover the medical expenses.”

In truth, that hadn’t happened.

It was just another way of saying “let’s forget about Varus.”

Fernan smiled contentedly as he saw him off.

‘Now all that’s left is Aint.’

Had he already returned from Frazia?

‘If not…’

Tap, tap. Fernan tapped the table with his fingers.

***

【A demon invades Bercheff! It’s no longer a thing of a thousand years ago!】

【Aint Armian, the name that stands against the demons.】

【A giant black knight on horseback, identified as Demon Number 66, Kimaris…】

【Bercheff withstood the assault—ten thousand monsters struck its walls, but they did not break through.】

【The heroes who killed the demon: Count of Bercheff, Albinos Bercheff; Mercenary King, Garrett Schreiner; and Cardinal of the Cult of the Dragon God, Alby Gallian.】

“What a mess.”

Aria flipped through the newspapers as she returned from Frazia to the academy.

From the front page to the last, it was all about the same thing.

“No wonder Aint left so quickly after that letter.”

She hadn’t had time to explain anything to him, but there was no need—the whole world was shouting it.

“A demon… And it’s already the second. Is this really okay?”

“Don’t ask me.”

Verian, eating roasted meat, replied indifferently.

“Who else am I going to ask? You’re here.”

“It’s not like you came to sit with me. You sat here on your own.”

“You’re not going back home now either?”

Verian frowned and fell silent.

Since receiving the letter from his father, he could have returned—but he hadn’t, because Aint was in Bercheff.

If he went back now, what would people say?

“Why are you returning to your family while Aint Armian is gaining fame in Bercheff?”

He needed to wait for Aint, coordinate with him.

“And you? Why aren’t you going home?”

Of the students, only Aint had permission to use the transport circle to Bercheff.

The rest had stayed behind at the academy.

Valoshi had already returned to Bienderk.

Aria and Verian remained at the academy.

Varus was on leave.

“There’s still no direct circle to Fridian.”

“So you’re afraid of boats.”

Elves’ weakness to the sea was well known.

“…I can travel by boat.”

“Well then, never mind.”

Aria was quiet for a few seconds, then suddenly spoke.

“Don’t you find it strange?”

“What?”

“Fernan.”

She popped a candy in her mouth before continuing.

“This demon appeared in Bercheff.”

Surprising, yes. But not so much after Andromalius. They already knew that had only been the beginning.

What was strange was that nearly all the incidents had direct or indirect ties to Fernan.

“When I became corrupted, for example.”

“Shut up already.”

“When he brought the World Tree branch.”

“That was your fault, not his.”

“And the Andromalius incident.”

“That happened because you lost your mind.”

“As if it was just me.”

Aria kept talking without concern.

“Also during the Academy Congress, when he helped Aint against the corrupted.”

“That was an accident, and he reacted as best he could. You were there.”

“And now, the Bercheff incident.”

“I heard Luina was the one who invited him…”

“Since when are you Fernan’s fan?”

“I’m just telling the truth.”

“Then what are you implying? That Fernan is a corrupted?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! He’s been eliminating corrupted. That’s impossible.”

“Then?”

“Fernan knows something about the demons. He has clues and has been preparing.”

Otherwise, how could he have created Wooden?

A golem like that would take years of preparation.

“How did he know the demons would return?”

Verian shrugged.

“The corrupted are everywhere in the Empire. Hunting them is proof enough. Pellenberg figured it out and prepared before anyone else.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

That made him even more impressive.

“In the end, is it just the Pellenbergs…?”

“Again with your connections?”

“…Not all prince-electors are the same. Kalburdern never acknowledged me, even after ten years.”

Aria muttered bitterly.

“Among students, friendships don’t bear fruit right away.”

“But they do in the future.”

Verian sensed there was something more behind her words, but didn’t press further.

‘Prince-elector…’

His father wanted that title more than anything.

He wanted to take it from the Armians—but with Aint gaining fame and slaying demons, everything had gone sideways.

Right now, his father was surely seething with rage.

“What I mean is, Fernan sees farther than I thought. So does Pellenberg. It’s best we stay close and take advantage of whatever drops.”

“And why are you telling me?”

“Because you’re already officially on his side. If we do it together, it’s less suspicious.”

At that moment, the dining hall door opened.

“Ah, there you are. Where’s Valoshi?”

“Aint?”

“What are you doing here? Weren’t you in Bercheff?”

“I went. And I’m going back.”

“To Bercheff?”

“No. To Frazia.”

“Again?”

“Yes.”

Aint nodded.

“And this time with Fernan.”

“Fernan?”

Fernan appeared behind him.

“I see you’ve been well.”

“Fernan!”

Aria jumped up and eagerly approached him.

“So happy to see you again.”

“It’s only been a month.”

“A month is a long time. So you’re coming to Frazia with us?”

“Not just with you—all of you.”

“That’s the same thing. I’m in. What about you, Verian? You’re not going to reject the man who saved us, are you?”

“I didn’t say anything!”

Verian exploded, as if someone had shot an arrow at him.