Chapter 58: Because It Hurts

Perda asked Rector Bernard.

He had brought him an entire bottle of alcohol.

“What is this?”

“I thought you might need it.”

“The whole thing…?”

“Hasn’t it been a difficult day?”

And it truly had been.

Except for the times he had drunk dozens of cups of coffee, his heart had never pounded so violently.

But now it was hammering against his ribs.

He couldn’t calm down.

Bernard, with trembling hands, grabbed the neck of the bottle and drank straight from it.

Glug, glug, glug—

A whiskey over 60 degrees.

He felt it burn down his throat, but only after emptying half the bottle did he manage to pull it away from his lips.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“No need to thank me.”

“May I ask something? I can’t… I can’t get it out of my head.”

“Go ahead.”

“How… how did you know I would be in danger?”

How did he know?

It was a technology that Teshalos Walcher, now dead, had talked about endlessly.

But when he suddenly declared it flawed, he had been the one who became the most enraged.

Proper anger clarifies everything, and Teshalos realized.

— Bernard was no longer the Bernard from before.

But it was already too late.

It couldn’t be proven, the technology disappeared, and Bernard ended his life as the worst rector.

In any case, Perda remembered that.

And thought about the most dangerous moment for the rector.

The most dangerous was when he returned to the city.

‘I was lucky.’

The surveillance, which could have dragged on, was resolved quickly.

Perda answered.

“I also have ears.”

A familiar phrase.

Bernard let out a bitter laugh.

“Damn it… everyone has ears except me…”

“It’s not just that. You are the rector of a city, and yet you came without an army. You were bound to be exposed.”

“Because it’s not efficient.”

“For nobles, efficiency is stupidity.”

“That… I understood perfectly today. Those who said no one would be happy if the rector of Escolea were attacked… from today onward, they will experience hell.”

Bernard’s face turned red.

Between anger and alcohol, his reason unraveled.

“Who would have thought… that demons would be targeting me… those same demons people call paranoia to even talk about…”

His eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t cry.”

“Sniff… I’m sorry…”

Perda watched him with an uncomfortable expression as he wiped his tears.

“In any case, now you know. Demons constantly seek to bring this continent to destruction.”

“Yes…”

“This continent must be ours. And even if it weren’t, it must never fall into the hands of demons.”

“I agree.”

“Then I will make you a proposal.”

He extended his hand toward Bernard, who was intoxicated by alcohol and emotions.

“Lend me the technology for the monster appearance prediction device.”

At that moment, Bernard’s mind cleared.

“Lend it…?”

“Exactly. The blueprints and the mechanism to create that device.”

It was a polite request, but in reality it meant handing everything over.

Bernard understood immediately.

“So… that’s what this was?”

he asked in a trembling voice.

“What do you mean?”

“Putting me under surveillance, waiting until I was in danger… and giving me this bottle… was all of it to obtain my technology?”

A trick to manipulate his emotions.

To make him let go of even the last thread of reason.

He thought Perda would deny it.

That, like any noble, he would hide his intentions and argue.

But that wasn’t the case.

“That’s right.”

Perda admitted it without hesitation.

Bernard, completely shaken, stood up abruptly.

“Manipulating someone at their lowest just to get what you want…! You should be ashamed, regent of Valdrova!”

Unlike him, Perda responded calmly.

“Why should I be ashamed?”

“What do you mean why?! Do you think you can play with someone’s life like that just to win their favor?!”

“If I wanted your favor, I would have flattered you. I would have told you pleasant lies. But I’m not interested in your approval.”

Perda’s gaze shifted to Bernard’s head.

“I want you to live solely because you possess that technology.”

“So I’m only alive because I’m useful?”

“You almost died because of that technology, and now you live because of it. Does that seem strange to you?”

He couldn’t refute it.

He nearly died for being useful and lived for the same reason.

But that meant outside of that, he was worth nothing.

Bernard couldn’t bear it.

“You… you are not human!”

He pointed with a trembling finger.

Staggering from the alcohol, he walked toward the door.

“If you leave here, you will die.”

Bernard’s steps stopped.

Those words, filled with ominous darkness, wrapped around his feet like a rope.

“Are you threatening me?”

“No. I’m telling you the truth. If you wander around at this hour, it won’t be demons—it will be monsters that devour you.”

“I’d rather be devoured than stay in a place like this!”

Perda set his cup down on the table and stood up.

“Then everything you have built will collapse in vain.”

Bernard’s body trembled.

That sentence, spoken with apparent indifference, was not Perda’s selfishness.

It was the truth Bernard knew deep down.

“The one who attacked you took your appearance. What do you think someone can do with your face?”

“……”

“Destroy everything only you know, in silence. The blueprints and records will be reduced to ashes, scattered by the wind. As if nothing had ever existed.”

“……”

“And after that? What do you think someone with the face of an incompetent rector will do? Sit at your desk, sleep in your bed. Scribble documents and sign approvals. Spend budgets recklessly while destroying you and your city.”

“Ugh…”

Bernard collapsed onto the floor.

To him, Escolea and his research were like his wife and child.

Imagining both being destroyed without him knowing was unbearable.

“Sniff… sniff…”

Finally, he broke down crying, curling his body and trembling.

He was alone. Isolated.

“I am the one who declared that I will conquer the demon land. Demons are my enemies, a plague that must disappear.”

Perda extended his hand.

“To achieve that, I need the technology you possess.”

Bernard looked at that hand.

The Perda he knew was a 3-circle mage.

But that hand was not soft like that of a noble mage.

It had calluses.

It was the hand of someone from a family of knights.

Someone who once dreamed of becoming a knight.

That dream had been destroyed, and now he was the duke’s consort.

Strangely, Bernard felt honor and trust in that hand.

“I will share the blueprints and the mechanism of the device I am developing. But…”

He pointed at his own chest with a trembling finger.

“This knowledge is entirely mine. Make sure that is made clear.”

What he demanded was authorship.

Not even allowing anyone else to claim credit.

For an academic, that was everything.

For Perda, it meant nothing.

“Your name will remain in history.”

***

Perda headed to Consilus’s territory together with Rector Bernard.

When he returned to Escolea, Arwen would take care of him well before escorting him.

“How is the rector?”

Perda asked Count Consilus, who was seated in front of him.

“According to the priests, the shock was severe. He needs at least one more day of rest. He has never been so close to dying at someone else’s hands.”

“I see.”

“More than that, his body was affected by drinking so much all at once. As if he had been drinking uncontrollably.”

“I gave it to him. That liquor you gave me.”

“You gave him the whole bottle?”

“He drank half of it right there.”

“Why would he do something so extreme?”

“Because it hurts.”

Perda took a sip of tea.

“I gave it to him because it hurt enough to kill.”

“It’s a miracle he didn’t die.”

“It’s fine if he rests, but send him to Escolea as soon as possible. I need something from him.”

“I’ll inform Arwen.”

Consilus wore a stunned expression.

He recalled what he had seen when Perda’s carriage arrived at his castle a few hours earlier.

“I’ve seen thousands of monsters in my life… but a demon is a first.”

“It’s nothing to be surprised about. I hadn’t seen one before either.”

“More than that, it’s the first time I’ve seen a demon capable of imitating a human.”

Demons had three distinctive traits.

Sharp teeth, red eyes, and black skin.

“I think it could have been mistaken for a doppelgänger.”

“A doppelgänger?”

“If it can imitate appearance and voice, there’s no other explanation. The rector was confused, with no time to think.”

“So he could have been mistaken.”

“Yes.”

It made sense.

Perda reflected for a moment.

“Do you know the difference between a doppelgänger and the original human?”

“They can copy the exterior, but not what’s under the clothes. That’s why they are stripped to verify.”

“Correct. But this one imitated even that. Even the genitals.”

“Even… that?”

“If you do things halfway, you end up dead.”

“True. If even that was the same, then it’s not imitation, it’s practically a copy.”

“Not just that. His mana was identical to the rector’s. He didn’t imitate him—he became him.”

“If he became him, then it would be impossible to distinguish. Sir Zeid has exceptional perception.”

“It was luck.”

He was grateful that he was bald. And that he took such good care of that shine.

“And that doppelgänger demon is still alive?”

“Yes. We’ve chained him tightly and I ordered the executioner to torture him.”

“Still going?”

“Yes.”

“How long has it been?”

“About four hours.”

Perda rested his finger on his chin.

“How long until he gets information out of him?”

“He’s a professional. Give him two days…”

“Not even one day is acceptable to me.”

“I’ll tell him to push himself to the limit.”

“No.”

Perda stood up from his seat.

“I’m impatient, but making a fuss when there’s a solution isn’t efficient.”

“You mean you intend to torture him yourself?”

“I have some experience in that field.”

A noble saying he has experience in torture.

But it wasn’t surprising.

Perda was someone who had killed Tesalos Wolcher without even blinking.

“May I use the alchemy workshop?”

“Yes. Although we don’t have enough materials for poisons… is that alright?”

“It’s fine. I’m not going to make poison anyway.”

“Ah… then you may use it without issue…”

Perda headed toward the workshop, and Consilus watched his back as he walked away.

‘If it’s not poison… what the hell is he going to prepare…? Huh?’

His thought was interrupted by doubt.

What he saw was Perda’s back moving away.

Something was writhing and moving on his back, beneath the black clothes.

“Maybe I’m getting old… I’m seeing strange things…”

Consilus rubbed his eyes and stood up as if nothing had happened.

***

Deep in the underground prison of Count Consilus’s castle.

The executioner, wearing a black hood, carried out his duty.

The man with the appearance of Rector Bernard hung in a pitiful state.

Bound to a steel torture device, with damaged tendons, not even a knight’s strength could easily escape.

In that place where only the executioner and the prisoner were present, an unexpected guest entered.

“Greetings, regent of Valdrova.”

“May I observe your work for a moment?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

The executioner stepped aside, and Perda moved forward.

The man’s condition was deplorable.

His face was swollen, and his body covered in bruises.

“Impressive.”

Perda murmured.

“Your skill in inflicting pain without killing is remarkable.”

“…It’s an honor.”

The executioner, confused by praise he had never heard before, didn’t know how to react.

That place was practically hell.

And yet, Perda had entered without hesitation and called it “impressive.”

“Your work ends here.”

“We haven’t obtained information yet…”

“I will handle it personally. This is for your effort.”

Perda handed him three gold coins.

The executioner, surprised by the amount, immediately understood what to do.

He left the room.

Perda pulled a chair closer and sat in front of the bound man.

The man had his head lowered, eyes closed.

“I know you’re still conscious. Since you’ve become a demon, you should stop pretending to be a weak human.”

Then the man raised his head.

His face was swollen, but his eyes had not lost their life.

A glint of interest appeared in Perda’s eyes.