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I Married the Dragon I Killed Chapter 69: Wick

Chapter 69: Wick

Perda‌​ examined the bag⁠‌​ he had brought​‌⁠ from the demons’​‌ research facility.

Inside‌‍​ were research journals‍‍​ and several ampoules.​⁠‌

Everything⁠⁠​ remained exactly as‌​​ it had when‌ he handed it​ to Zed.

‘At⁠‍​ least he does​‍‌ his job properly.’‌⁠

Perda‌ admired himself for​ making the right⁠ decision when recruiting⁠​‌ Zed Swallow.

The‍‌ only thing he‌ could give him​⁠‌ in return was‌⁠​ a bonus.

‘And‌⁠ Emilia’s whereabouts.’

He⁠⁠‌ had to resolve‍ that before Zed‍​‍ started complaining.

That‍​ was the necessary‌⁠ condition to keep​⁠⁠ an impossible-to-catch thief​​‍ tied down.

He​ had to do‌ something before dissatisfaction‌⁠​ appeared.

‘For⁠‍‍ now, I’ll keep‍ thinking about it….’​‌

Perda‌ took the bag​‍ and carried it​ to the study.‌

There,​‍‍ as always, a single girl waited‌‌‍ for orders.

“Mori.”​​​

Mori‌​ turned her head​‌⁠ and looked up.‍‌‍

With‌‌ her hair full​⁠‍ of curls, today⁠‍‌ as well she‍ looked like a genuine noble lady.‌‌​

“Could‍​ you decipher this?”⁠​

Perda​ handed her the‌‍⁠ journal.

Linne’s‌ journal was written‍ in code.

Using‌⁠‌ Morida’s Universal Library‍‌ ability, she could​‌ normally decipher that⁠ kind of code​​‌ easily.

— It is impossible⁠​​ to decipher.

However,‌‌ the answer he‌‍ received was negative.⁠⁠

“What‌ do you mean​‍ impossible?”

— They are characters​ for which I possess no interpretive‍‍‌ clues.

Characters⁠​ with no clues‍‌​ even within the​⁠‌ Universal Library.

That⁠‍ only meant one⁠ thing.

“Then​⁠⁠ it’s an orally‌‌ transmitted language.”

A language not recorded‍‌ in writing and⁠‍​ whose meaning varied⁠‍⁠ depending on the‌‍ individual.

There‌‍ was only one⁠ race that used‌ something like that.⁠‌

‘High⁠ Elves.’

The​⁠ nobility among nobility,‌‌‌ beings capable of‌⁠ reaching the deepest​​ parts of the‌⁠ World Tree.

Each⁠ individual created a unique language impossible‌⁠ for anyone except⁠ themselves to interpret.‍

If‍‌ the laboratory director,⁠ Linne, was a High Elf, then‌⁠⁠ it made sense.‍‌⁠

‘That‌ Dark Elf was​‌ originally a High‍⁠⁠ Elf?’

It​‍​ was strange.

High⁠‍‍ Elves were extremely‌ conservative and closed-off​​ beings who thought‍⁠‌ only about the‍⁠‍ World Tree.

For⁠ one of them‌‌​ to have served‍​ Godwin and fallen⁠‌‍ into corruption was⁠‌⁠ as absurd as‍ a headless chicken‍⁠‍ walking around or‌⁠⁠ a catfish breathing‌ outside water.

“Then,‌ are there records⁠‌ about the High‌⁠ Elves?”

— There are some⁠​ observation records.

“Anything​⁠ related to their‌​ writing?”

— No.

It⁠​ would be a waste to leave⁠ it at that.​‌

“Can’t​ you try interpreting‌ it somehow?”

Morida⁠​ nodded.

Then​‌ she stared silently‍‍ into empty space.‌‌⁠

Creak,​ creak.

Her‍⁠ body bent unnaturally,​ like a puppet.‌⁠

Her‍⁠ face turned completely‌⁠​ red and began⁠‍ trembling as if‍‌‌ it might explode⁠​ at any moment.​‌‌

“Forget‍⁠‌ it.”

Fwoooosh.⁠​‍

She‌‍ returned to normal⁠​ as if she⁠‍‍ had lost all⁠⁠ the air inside‌‍ her.

Even‍⁠⁠ if he wanted‍ to understand those‌​‍ characters, he had‍⁠ no intention of‌ destroying Morida over​ it.

Morida‍ looked up at​​ Perda with an‍⁠ exhausted expression, letting‍ her head rest​‌​ on her shoulder.⁠‌​

“How‍ is the work‍⁠ going?”

Morida‍ nodded.

— Currently there are​ no serious problems⁠ related to the⁠‍​ castle or the‍​ Grand Duchy. However,‍ there are external‌ problems.

“What‌⁠ kind of problems?”​

— The first is‌ Helus Povidas.

The​‌ man they had​‌ grabbed by the⁠ throat using the‌‌⁠ Extermination Squad.

In​ exchange for swearing⁠ loyalty to Perda‍​ and receiving Morida’s​​‍ wisdom, he continued‌​‌ maintaining his life​⁠ as a scholar.‌⁠​

“What⁠​ about him?”

— Helus Povidas asks‍‍⁠ too many inefficient‌ questions. Sometimes they​⁠ lack meaning or⁠​ coherence, and he⁠ tends to request‍ explanations using fantastical⁠ stories.

Conversations‌‌ without concrete answers‌‌​ were always exhausting.‍

Remembering‍ how Morida had​‌⁠ just forced herself​‌ to decipher the‍‌‍ text, Perda could‍⁠‍ imagine how tiring‌⁠⁠ Helus must be.​‍

“So‍⁠⁠ it’s affecting the‍ work. What else?”‌

— He has shown‌‍⁠ signs eight times⁠​‌ of attempting to​⁠ seize Lady Valdrova’s⁠‌ authority.

That​​ did not surprise​ him nearly as‍ much as the‍⁠‍ previous matter.

From​ the beginning, he​​⁠ had decided to⁠​ use him precisely‌​‌ because he never‌‍ imagined Morida would​ report something like​​‌ that.

“Then⁠‌‍ let’s limit his​ questions to five.⁠‍​ And if you​ think they lead‍​ nowhere, you may‍‍ refuse to answer.‌‌ Will that improve​​ efficiency?”

— An improvement in​⁠‌ efficiency is projected.‍ However, another factor‍ still remains.

“What​‍⁠ is it?”

— Echidna Philiaz.

Claiming‌​‌ he did not‌ expect it would​​​ be absurd.

He​​ had already seen​ Morida completely lose‌​‍ composure because of⁠‌‍ her too many⁠‌‌ times.

“If⁠‌ Echidna’s actions are‌‌​ the problem, I could restrict her⁠​‍ a little, but⁠ I can’t control‌‌​ her completely.”

— Echidna Philiaz’s influence‍ is three times‌‌ greater than Helus​⁠‍ Povidas’s. Sometimes she⁠‍​ demands that I address her with⁠‍​ incomprehensible titles.

“What⁠ kind of titles?”‌

— From “noona” to‍‍ “mom,” “mother,” and⁠ even “little mother.”‍‌‌ Titles incompatible with‍‌ our relationship.

To‍​​ Perda, it sounded‍‌‌ like a simple‍ request.

“Then​ just indulge her.”​

— When I comply,‌‍⁠ she later demands‍‌ roleplay. And if‌ I agree, she‍ becomes immersed in‌⁠‌ it and begins⁠‍ believing it is‌ real. Her delusional‍ disorder worsens.

That​ was why she​ was three times​‌​ more exhausting.

‘Because‌​⁠ she’s a witch.’‍‌

Although⁠ he understood Morida’s‍ situation, Perda also⁠‍ had his own⁠‌ problems.

The⁠​​ only person capable​⁠ of taking care‍‍‌ of Morida was‌‌​ Echidna and, lately,‌​⁠ she had been⁠ out of control​​ because of the‍‍ matter with Zed.‌‍

“For‍⁠‍ now, endure it.​‍ That witch is⁠‍‍ still necessary for⁠‍ us. Isn’t there‌ another way to‍‌ improve your efficiency?”⁠

Morida‌‌ thought for a moment.

She‌ lightly tapped the⁠ paper with her⁠​‍ pen before responding​‌​ briefly.

— Praise me.

“What?”‍‌‍

— When I do‌​ my work well,‍⁠​ praise me. Depending‌ on the difficulty‌ of the task,‍‍ I require proportional​⁠⁠ praise.

It⁠ was a completely‌‌‌ unexpected request.

He‌ never would have⁠⁠ imagined that a wise slave with‌ the Universal Library​‍‌ in her head‌⁠⁠ would ask for‌‍ something like that.‍⁠‍

“Do‌‍ you really need‌ that?”

— Various studies demonstrate​​ that praise improves⁠‌ work efficiency and‌‌⁠ significantly reduces stress.⁠‌

“That⁠ applies to humans.”⁠‍‍

— In the gladiator​ city of Colosenia,​‍​ praised gladiators showed​⁠⁠ a 20% increase‌‍‍ in victories.

She‍​ immediately refuted Perda’s‍​ words with data.‌

“But​ you shouldn’t need​‍​ it.”

— In the mining‍⁠‍ city of Ophiles,⁠ it was reported​⁠​ that praised miners⁠‌‌ increased their productivity⁠ by 12%.

She​​ kept throwing out‌⁠ fact after fact,⁠‌ completely denying his‌ words.

It⁠‍‍ was strange.

Morida‌‌ was a wise‍⁠ slave without an​‍ ego.

A definitive rational entity​ incapable of feeling‌⁠⁠ emotions.

Then‌ why did she‌⁠​ need something like‍​‌ this?

Perda‍⁠‌ decided not to‌ argue further.

It⁠‌ was faster to‌​‌ say three syllables⁠‍ than waste time⁠​ in pointless debates.‌

“Good‍ work.”

That‌‍‍ should be enough.‍

Then⁠ Morida’s pen quickly‍ wrote.

— According to research,‌​ when an adult⁠⁠‌ man praises a child, patting their​ head is especially‌ effective.

What‍⁠ a hassle.

Even‌⁠ so, Perda did‍⁠ as she said⁠‍⁠ and placed his​​‌ hand on her‌ head.

He​⁠ felt a soft​⁠⁠ texture beneath his​ fingers.

“Thank‌​ you.”

Praise‌ given without much‍ emotion.

However,‍ the eyes with⁠ which Morida looked​‍ at Perda shone‍ strangely.

The‌ head that she​ could barely hold‍⁠⁠ up before returned​​‌ to normal.

“Was‍​‌ that enough?”

After‌ hearing that, Morida‌‌ nodded and turned​⁠‍ her head.

Though⁠‌ who knew whether‌​⁠ it truly was‌​​ enough.

Perda‍ closed the journal​‍‌ and took out​​ a box.

‘This‍ is where they‍‌‍ took the drug‌‍ from.’

Inside‍ the box were‌ eleven ampoules.

Three⁠​ vials of the‌‍⁠ Doppler reagent and‌‍ another eight ampoules‌‍ labeled with the‌‍ names of Knight-class‌‌‌ demons alongside the⁠ word “(prototype).”

They‍‍‌ all shared one‌ thing in common‍‌​ a black, viscous​ liquid. Without the‌‌ labels, it would‍ have been impossible⁠⁠ to tell them​​ apart.

‘If‍ I include the‌‍ Bouncer reagent, that‍⁠​ makes twelve.’

Perda‍‌​ recalled the subject‍‌⁠ who had transformed⁠​ into a Bouncer.‌⁠⁠

Bouncers‌​‌ were the type​ that sacrificed intelligence​‌ in exchange for‍​ strength.

His‌‌‌ intellect had truly‍ diminished, but his‍‌ strength had increased⁠ noticeably.

‘If​ the same situation​ happens again, they’ll‌ be even stronger​ than that subject.’​‍

The​‍ only reason they‍ managed to win‍‍ was because the⁠⁠ drug was still‌ a prototype.

In‍ the final version,⁠​‍ they would reduce⁠​ the side effects​‍‌ and increase the⁠‍⁠ power even further.‍⁠

‘That​ woman surely survived.’⁠

Before‍⁠ Director Linne did⁠​​ something, Perda needed⁠‌‍ to act quickly.‌‌⁠

Perda​⁠ had the samples.‌‌

Linne‍⁠ had the knowledge.‍​‌

The​‍ starting line favored​​ him, but no‌​​ one knew who​‍ would win in⁠ the end.

‘Who⁠​‌ should I entrust⁠‌ with investigating this⁠ substance?’

That⁠​‍ was where the⁠‌‌ problem began.

Perda‌​ started thinking of‍⁠​ possible candidates.

Vernell?​

He‍‌ was intelligent, yes,​⁠​ but specialized solely​ in magical engineering.​

He​ needed to focus​​ on that.

Then​​ Echidna?

She⁠ was an expert‍​ in runes, but‍⁠ he did not⁠‌⁠ want to involve‍ her with a substance like this.⁠‌​

Rector⁠​‍ Bernard?

He‌​‌ still did not‍‍‍ trust him. He‌ did not even‍ really know what⁠​‍ he was doing.​

‘Then​‍ should I do‌⁠ it myself?’

Perda‌‍ also had experience‌‍​ conducting research.

Although‌⁠ it was limited‍ to mana training‌‌ methods and form⁠ manipulation to strengthen​⁠​ himself, he possessed⁠​​ enough obsession and‌ perseverance.

Perhaps,‍ if he directed​⁠ that obsession toward​‍ research, he could‌ achieve something.

Just‍‍‌ as Perda was‌⁠​ thinking about it—​

Ding!​ Ding! Ding!

An‍‌ alarm he had​‍ never heard before​​‍ echoed throughout the‌‍ entire castle.

It‍ was strange.

For‍‍ an emergency alarm​‍ to sound in⁠​ the main fortress⁠‌ of the Red⁠‌‍ Dragon, Valdrova.

Shortly​​ afterward, someone violently‍ threw open the⁠ door and entered.‍​‌

It‍⁠ was Ruri.

Urgency‍​⁠ was visible on‌​⁠ her face.

“Lord‍ Perda.”

“What‍​ is it?”

“They’re⁠⁠ coming.”

Ruri​​‌ spoke again.

“The‍​⁠ children of Silverwind‍‍‌ are coming here.”‍

So⁠ they had finally⁠​ arrived.

Perda‍‌‍ headed to the⁠​ balcony.

Visible‌‍ points in the‍‍ sky.

Soon‍​ even his eyesight‍‍ could clearly distinguish‌‍⁠ certain features.

At‌⁠​ the front were​​‍ enormously large wings.‍‌‌

“That​‌ must be the‍​ leader.”

“Yes.​‌ It is Lord⁠⁠ Goz.”

For⁠ the leader himself‍ to come meant⁠‌‌ the matter was⁠‍ serious.

No‍ matter what happened,⁠ they had to​​ prepare.

“What⁠⁠ should we do?”​

Fear​⁠‍ could be felt⁠ in Ruri’s voice.⁠

She‌ normally hid her​⁠ emotions very well,‍ but at this‍​‍ moment her anxiety‌⁠‍ was obvious.

“Let’s⁠‌​ wait first.”

“Even⁠⁠‌ though the enemy‍‍⁠ is coming toward⁠‍ us?”

“We’ll‌ soon know whether⁠ they are enemies‌‌ or not.”

Perda‌ stared fixedly at⁠ the approaching figures.‍‍​

The⁠‍ fist he had‍ unconsciously clenched was‍ soaked in sweat.⁠​​

‘Sitri.’‌‌

Had‌⁠‍ that damned demon‍ betrayed him?

She⁠⁠‍ could have manipulated‍‍⁠ the information very​​ subtly to make‌ everything seem like​‍ Perda’s fault.

But‌ he did not‌​ jump to conclusions.​

Demons‌‍ also valued their​‌ own lives.

The​⁠ demons who crossed‍⁠ into this world‍​‍ acted as if‌‌ they had no‌‌ fear, but in‌​‍ reality they were​‍ even more cowardly​‍ than humans.

Shortly​​ afterward, he obtained​‌ the answer.

All​⁠ the children of‍ Silverwind descended in⁠​​ front of the⁠‍⁠ outer gate and‍ lined up.

“That’s‍‍‌ good news.”

“Is​⁠‌ it good news⁠‍‍ that they’re standing​‌‌ in front of⁠‍ the outer gate?”‌

“If​‍ they had come⁠​​ to fight, they‍​‍ would have charged‌ directly toward the‍​‍ balcony. And if‌​ they had come​⁠‍ to cause trouble,⁠ they would be​‍ standing in front⁠⁠ of the inner‌‌‍ gate.”

Perda‌‍‌ looked down from⁠​ the balcony and‍⁠‌ locked eyes with​⁠ Goz.

A strange silent exchange⁠‍ passed between them.⁠⁠⁠

“Ruri,​‌ prepare to receive​ the guest… hm?”‍

Perda​ interrupted himself as⁠‍ he turned around.‍​

Ruri⁠⁠ was staring toward⁠⁠ the Silverwinds.

If‌ she had only‌ been looking at‌ them, Perda would⁠​‌ not have reacted‌‌‍ like that.

“Ruri?”‌​

“Did⁠ you call me?”‌

“Why‌‍‌ are you holding​ onto my clothes?”‌⁠‍

“What‍‍‌ do you mea—?”​⁠

Ruri’s​‍ words cut off.‍​‌

Just‍‍‌ as Perda said,​‌‍ she was gripping⁠ his clothes.

Even​ she herself looked​​ surprised.

She‍ quickly withdrew her‌‍‌ hand and tried‌ to act normal.‌

“……There⁠‍‌ was dust on⁠ them.”

“Ah,‌‌‍ really?”

It⁠ was impossible for‍​ Perda’s clothes to‌‍⁠ have dust on‌ them.

And⁠‍ even if they‍​ did, Ruri would‌⁠ never have tried⁠‌‍ to clean them​​ personally.

“I’ll‍ go prepare the⁠⁠‌ reception for the⁠⁠ guests.”

With⁠ that, Ruri withdrew.‍‌

Perda‍‌ also descended to⁠​ receive the Silverwinds.‍⁠

***⁠

The​​​ alarm rang.

The​​​ non-combat personnel inside‍​‍ the castle hid‍​⁠ in their rooms‍‌ and the combatants‍ took their positions.‍

And‌‍ in Castle Valdrova‌⁠​ there were exactly‌‍ two combatants.

Zed⁠​​ and Malcolm.

Since​‌⁠ both held the​‌ rank of knights,⁠​‍ they were deployed⁠⁠ in front of⁠⁠ the outer gate.⁠

‘Shit,​​ what kind of⁠⁠⁠ shitty situation is‌​‌ this?’

Zed‍​ cursed inwardly as‌‍ he looked them⁠​ over once again.⁠

They‍ were exactly like​ the Silver Dragon⁠​ spawn described in‌‍ the books.

Silver​‍​ hair and silver‌‌ eyes.

Fierce⁠‍ faces and sharp‍‍ horns.

Even⁠​‌ while wearing armor,‌‍ their muscles looked‌​‍ as if they​ were about to‌‍⁠ burst through it‌⁠ from the inside.‍

Facing​​‍ even one of​​‌ them would have‍‌​ been enough pressure,‌​‍ but now they‌ had arrived as​‌⁠ a group.

Not​‌⁠ even the rings‍‌ that reduced fear​‍​ toward dragons could​‌ overcome the pressure‌ of their numbers⁠ and intimidating faces.⁠

‘Especially⁠ that guy.’

That‍⁠ man standing at‍⁠ the front, with‌⁠ the soldiers behind⁠‍ him.

The⁠​ silver cloak he‍⁠​ wore made it‍ obvious at a glance that he‍ was the leader.​⁠⁠

It​​‌ would not have‌‍‌ been an exaggeration⁠ to say that‌‌ he alone represented‍⁠⁠ eighty percent of‌ the pressure in⁠‍ the atmosphere.

The‍ aura he emitted⁠⁠ was that monstrous.⁠​

“Your​​⁠ lord…”

He​​ opened his mouth.‍⁠

And⁠ from it came‍​‍ a voice as‍‌ cold as the‍‌⁠ souls of thousands‌ of frost giants⁠ he had personally‍‍‌ massacred.

Zed‌⁠‌ was almost crushed‌​ by that deep⁠‌‍ tone, but he‍⁠⁠ forced a calm⁠‌ expression and answered.​​

“Could⁠ you wait a little longer? We⁠⁠ were informed that‍‍‌ he would come‍ down shortly.”

“A⁠ little…?”

Displeasure‌⁠​ showed on his​‍⁠ face.

Even‌‍‍ though he knew⁠ that hatred was​​ not directed at⁠​ them, enduring it‍ was still difficult.⁠‍

But⁠ Zed’s biggest problem⁠​​ was something else.​

“Sniff…​ sniff…”

Beside‌ him, Malcolm was‌‍⁠ whimpering.

“Almighty‍⁠​ god of light​​ Alte, please save‍ me.”

Not​ satisfied with crying,‌‌‍ he had even​‌ started praying.

Zed​⁠​ slightly tilted his‍‍‍ head toward him‍‌⁠ and muttered.

“Just​​ get lost.”

“Sniff…​ as a knight‌ of this Grand‍ Duchy… I cannot‍‍ abandon my post…”‌​⁠

“No,​ I’m telling you⁠ to get lost‌‌ because you’re in⁠⁠​ the way. I can handle this⁠‍⁠ alone.”

But‌‌ Malcolm did not‍ move.

Who​‌ knew how important⁠ his ridiculous knightly​‌ code was, because⁠​‌ even with his‌‌​ legs trembling he​​‍ still forced himself​‌ to stand firm.⁠⁠

‘Ah,‌‌‌ shit, my life.’‌‌‌

Just​ when things seemed​⁠‌ to calm down,​‌ something like this​‌‍ always appeared to⁠​ stab him in​ the back.

What‌⁠⁠ if he just‌​‌ told this whole​ knight thing to‌‍‍ go to hell?‌‌

Just​‌​ as he thought‌​‍ that, he heard​ salvation-like footsteps behind​‌ them.

“I⁠ made you wait.”⁠⁠

Perda‍ had arrived.

He‌​ stepped between Zed⁠​‌ and Malcolm and​ looked directly at⁠‌‍ Goz.

“You​​ make your guests⁠⁠ wait?”

The‍ criticism fell heavily.​

“Normally,‍‍‍ guests send a letter before coming.​ Those who do‍ not are called​ intruders.”

A suffocating tension.

Malcolm⁠ and Zed, who⁠‍ thought everything had‌​ already ended, realized​ it was only⁠‌‌ beginning.

“You‍‍‍ are right about‌ that. I apologize‌‌‍ for not informing​​ you beforehand.”

Goz​​​ accepted it easily.‍

Perda​⁠⁠ thought.

‘This⁠ is not the‍‌‍ kind of person‌ who would act‌ like this.’

Of​‌ course.

If‍​‌ someone steps back,‍ it is usually⁠ to advance three​ steps afterward.

“But​ if I apologize,⁠ then you must‍ also clarify something.”⁠

Just‍​ as expected.

“Perda,​ regent of Valdrova.​⁠ We have come‍‍ due to suspicions​​ that you used​ demonic magic to‍‌ murder Abel Silverwind⁠ and conceal the‌‌ evidence.”

The‍​‍ instant he heard​ “suspicions,” a name‌‍‍ automatically appeared in‌‍​ his mind.

‘Sitri?’⁠‌‌

His‍‌ instincts screamed that​⁠​ name again.

The​ most likely candidate⁠ was still Sitri.​

Demons​ never resolved things‍​‌ cleanly.

Perda‌ continued thinking about⁠⁠⁠ what kind of⁠‍‌ trap she was‌‍‌ trying to set⁠​​ for him.

However,​ he discovered something‌ unexpected.

Sitri‍‍‍ had not tried‍‌‍ to betray him.‍⁠‌

The​ answer appeared immediately.⁠⁠‌

“Hello,⁠ Regent Perda.”

Among​‌​ those sweaty and​‍⁠ brutal men, a lively voice rang‌‍ out.

A small woman wearing⁠‍ a wide-brimmed pointed‍‌ mage hat appeared‌⁠​ as she walked⁠⁠ forward.

At​‌ the tip of⁠‌ the hat, the‍‌ emblem of the⁠⁠‍ Human Magic Society​ of Serdes clearly‌‌‌ shone.

Only⁠ one person could‌‍ wear a hat​‌ like that.

Erdes⁠‌ Roton, president of‍‍ the Human Magic​‌‌ Society of Serdes.⁠⁠⁠

“We​ know each other,‌‍​ don’t we?”

The‌‍​ person responsible for⁠‍‍ this entire scene‍‍ was that damned‍⁠‍ woman.

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