Chapter 9: As Deep as a Lake

After the death of Tesalos Wolcher, all the lords boarded their carriages and returned home.

Only Luri and Perda remained in the assembly hall.

“That was magnificent.”

Luri, looking up at Perda, clapped her small hands.

“Today you clearly showed who stands above. Truly impressive—your political skills are almost an art.”

She then raised both thumbs in a double-approval gesture.

Perda was suffering the side effects of mana depletion, with a throbbing headache.

While gently massaging his temples with his fingers, he replied:

“It was just an unintended outcome.”

“Even if it wasn’t planned, that’s how it turned out. What do you plan to do now?”

“What do you mean?”

Luri furrowed her brow, as if wondering whether that was really a question.

“You just killed a noble. Even if you lean on the Queen’s prestige, this will clearly stir controversy.”

“Really?”

Perda recalled the scene around him and asked.

“For something to be a problem, wasn’t everything far too quiet?”

“Who would speak up when someone is dancing with a sword right in front of them? No fool would.”

“Hmm… is that so?”

Perda had overlooked it all too casually, not even realizing he had committed a serious crime.

Upon hearing that, he at least began to acknowledge how problematic the situation was.

Luri, seeing his attitude, let out a soft sigh and continued.

“Besides, the victim was one of the lords who showed absolute loyalty to Valdrova. This isn’t a simple issue—it’s something much more serious.”

“Was he upright?”

“Moderately upright and moderately corrupt. That kind of mediocrity, in the eastern frontier, was considered the highest form of loyalty.”

“If I personally killed the most loyal one, I suppose that’ll affect the engagement too, right?”

“Of course.”

Which is why Luri’s eyes gleamed.

However, contrary to her expectations, Perda just scratched his cheek and replied:

“The engagement will go forward. If I show there was a reason he had to die, nothing will change, right?”

“Well, that’s true in a sense… but where does all that confidence come from?”

According to Luri, Perda had only met Tesalos Wolcher today.

And yet, he spoke as if he knew him better than the lords who had known him for years.

‘Why? Because he already knew.’

If his memory was right, even now, Perda was committing a serious crime.

“We need to visit the Wolcher lands.”

“You’re saying you want to stir the dust, so to speak?”

“Don’t worry. It’s not dust—it’s an entire mountain. You’ll see.”

“Very well. But before that…”

Luri pointed a finger at Tesalos’s corpse.

Instantly, an invisible thread sliced through his neck, cleanly severing it.

Luri wrapped the head in a cloth.

“What are you keeping that for?”

“It’ll be needed. No matter the reason for his death, in the end, it was because he had done wrong.”

Perda nodded.

“Then you’ll display it publicly? Like they do with corrupt nobles?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“But he was supposed to be the most loyal.”

“If you want the wedding to be called off, go ahead, be my guest. I don’t care.”

Perda fell silent.

In the end, despite everything, Luri was the one who still supported him.

***

The Walcher Lands

They were the easternmost frontier, right alongside the border army— and also the lands closest to Valdrova’s castle.

“I see… it’s darkest under the lamp. So it was here?” murmured Perda.

He had never expected to find Tesalos Walcher in the southern deserts.

Until now, he never imagined he lived on the frontlines of the east.

As they arrived before the inner castle, the butler hurried out.

Even so, with the composed demeanor expected of the Walcher household, he greeted them politely.

“Welcome to this humble place. Unfortunately, the lord is currently away, so—”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. That lord is already dead.”

“…Pardon?”

The elderly butler, clearly confused, asked again.

“I said the lord is dead. I’m going in. Do you know where Tesalos Walcher’s lab is?”

“That… but… did you say you killed the lord…?”

“That’s enough. It’s nothing to be proud of. He likely kept things hidden. I’ll look myself.”

With that one-sided conversation, Perda walked past the butler and entered.

The old man, still at a loss, could only stare in astonishment.

Luri, following behind, handed the butler the package containing the head and pointed toward the sky.

“Hang this where it can be clearly seen from the front gate.”

“Pardon? This is…?”

And Luri went inside as well.

Moments later, the terrified scream of the old butler echoed through the halls.

***

Tesalos Walcher.

A bloodline of mages, exiled to the outer reaches due to political trouble.

A family marked by rage and resentment, nearly on the level of Perda himself.

As they say, “God brings together those alike”—Perda had once seen Tesalos as his first comrade.

‘Tesalos Walcher hated the Empire.’

He bore a Red Circle, and for that, the magical community branded him a heretic, pushing him to the fringes.

With one goal alone, he studied magic: to kill all the nobles who had exiled him eastward.

And what happened?

‘He succeeded, in a way.’

But that was all he accomplished.

‘I never saw that spell.’

Because before he could cast it, before it even had a name, he died at Perda’s hands.

Just like today—without knowing how or why.

‘Now that I think about it, why did I kill him?’

Not even Perda could remember.

It wasn’t surprising. Back then, he desperately needed a target to hate.

And to reach the Sixth Circle faster than anyone else, he had to become a monster—capable even of killing his benefactors.

‘It doesn’t matter.’

It wasn’t because he thought himself righteous. What mattered was that Tesalos was someone who would one day bring sorrow to his fiancée.

‘Anyway, it must be somewhere around here…’

Perda began inspecting Tesalos’s room.

He’d said he dedicated his whole life to his research.

Though he posed as a loyal servant, he clearly harbored twisted intentions.

While searching, Perda finally found something.

“Here it is.”

It was under the bed.

The tiled floor didn’t line up properly, and a strange breeze seeped through the cracks.

“So you hid a secret room under the bed.”

“Are you going to open it?”

“Of course. I’ll look for the mechanism… wait a sec—”

Crash!

Before he could finish, a loud crash rang out.

Turning around, he saw the bed split in two—and the hidden hatch destroyed with it.

Luri brushed off her fist and remarked:

“What’s the point in looking for a switch?”

“………”

It was, without a doubt, an ignorant method—but there was no real reason not to do it.

And so, Luri and Perda descended the steps into the underground.

As they went deeper, the darkness thickened, and a faint metallic stench filled the air.

“It’s the smell of monster blood.”

“You can tell? Wow, you’ve got a dog’s nose.”

“Don’t compare me to such lowly creatures.”

“Sorry. But I’d say your loyalty’s pretty dog-like.”

“…Are you trying to provoke me?”

Luri shot him a death glare, but Perda didn’t even flinch.

Soon, the stairs ended, and they entered a new space.

“This is…”

They instinctively furrowed their brows.

A mage’s lab was always chaotic, full of strange, indecipherable things, so a bizarre sight was to be expected.

Sometimes, one even had to be ready for bloodstained scenes.

But Tesalos Walcher’s lab went far beyond that.

It was so brutal and grotesque, it crossed any limit of tolerance.

Anyone with a weak stomach would’ve vomited instantly, but neither Luri nor Perda flinched much.

‘Though I’m still not used to the smell…’

He pinched his nose, waiting for his sense to adapt.

Luri glanced at a corpse and scowled deeper.

“So this is what they meant by ‘it’s darkest under the lamp.’”

Laid out on a gurney were the bodies of a human soldier and a monster.

Their abdomens had been opened, and their red and purple entrails were sewn together with thread.

“I never imagined that a feudal lord, once considered the most loyal, was actually a demon worshiper.”

Demon worshipers.

Those who, after the corruption of the black dragon Godwin 150 years ago and the resulting Great War of Dragons and Demons, continued following the path of so-called demons.

People who pursued their traces and sought to harness their power.

“You didn’t suspect it?”

“I know mages tend to be shady. And we tolerate some of it, since the darker ones are usually more gifted. But…”

Her silver eyes gleamed with deep hatred and sharp betrayal.

“I never thought he’d have such twisted taste—stitching together human and monster guts.”

Of course, betrayal hurts in proportion to the trust placed.

“All humans are the same.”

As a dragon descendant, Luri had never trusted humans. So she blinked away her feelings coldly and cleanly.

What mattered wasn’t the grotesque methods—it was what he aimed to gain from them.

Luri found manuscripts scattered across a worktable.

Her eyes scanned them quickly, and she scoffed.

“He was a complete psychopath.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He had the absurd idea of using monster genes to enhance mana—and based all his research on that.”

“Really?”

“Want to see?”

Perda took the page she pointed to and read the summary.

And then he remembered.

‘Right. He wanted to create undead that resembled monsters.’

In black magic, necromancy had two main branches:

— Create a single, massively powerful monster.

— Or flood the enemy with hordes of weak ones.

That’s why necromancers were the easiest mages to counter and subdue.

‘He aimed to combine monsters’ toughness with undead numbers.’

If successful, it would become the ultimate magic for mass-producing elite soldiers for the Empire.

‘Though I wasn’t interested in that…’

What had drawn Perda’s interest wasn’t the final spell—but the mana refining technique created to make it possible.

Monsters generated mana endlessly.

‘But it was always defective and useless mana.’

They became strong by devouring vast amounts of that defective mana.

‘But if that production could be reproduced and refined into pure mana…’

Even those with no talent could, by learning it, easily reach the Fourth Circle and enter the mage ranks.

Thanks to this research, Perda had reached not just the Sixth Circle and the rank of Archmage, but even the Eighth.

He looked again at the summary page.

‘If I researched this again…’

He could gather the materials needed to reach the Eighth Circle faster—and leveling up would be much easier.

‘There’s no doubt.’

It was possible—maybe even several times faster.

As he studied the paper intently, Luri watched him just as closely.

‘He’s human. Of course he’ll feel greed.’

Luri chewed over her deep hatred for humans.

That line about “sorrowing the queen” was just an excuse.

Surely Perda had killed Tesalos just to steal his research.

‘All humans lie.’

They’re a foolish race that lives happily and sadly, trapped in lies.

Knowing they lie, there’s no point in feeling betrayed.

‘And yet…’

Why was this man different?
Why, unlike with Tesalos, did her chest feel tighter?

‘Do I want to trust this man?’

Luri bit her lip, pride as a dragon descendant wounded.

To chase that thought away, she asked bluntly:

“So, what will you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“With this research. You could continue it. Isn’t that what all mages say? That letting it go to waste would be a shame.”

A simple justification, needing no long excuse—because for a mage in search of knowledge, it was natural.

But Perda’s answer was unlike any other mage’s.

“No.”

He handed the page back to Luri.

“Destroy it all.”

“All of it…?”

For a moment, Luri’s composed expression cracked.

She hadn’t expected that.

At the very least, she thought he would hesitate—but Perda’s answer was as sharp as a blade.

“Didn’t I tell you? I don’t like my fiancée having to grieve.”

“Even so, you’d destroy all this research? The world might call it an unprecedented discovery.”

“A great discovery, sure.”

Perda nodded.

“But if it ends in sorrow for my fiancée, what’s the point?”

Yet his eyes didn’t match his words.

A mage’s eyes should never look like that—his blue eyes reflected a calm scene, free of greed, as deep as a lake.

“………”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I wonder if you can really do it.”

“Of course I can.”

Luri summoned a blue flame to her fingertips—a pure fire born of transmuted mana.

If she released it, the papers would burn instantly.

As she stared at the flame, she turned her gaze back to Perda.

“…You won’t regret it?”

“No. It’s fine.”

And so, as he wished, Luri burned all the research.

The lab, the grotesque bodies used in the experiments—everything turned to ashes in the blue flames.

‘Burns well.’

Perda watched silently.

If he’d wanted, he could’ve finished it in a few months.

Tesalos had already done half the work, and above all, it was a spell Perda had already learned.

But he abandoned it for one simple reason.

‘All magic carries the caster’s personality and emotions.’

And as the saying goes, “Lie down with charcoal, get stained.”
Those emotions eventually seep into the caster, leading to corruption.

That’s why one must never learn black or forbidden magic.

‘This magic was born of hatred and resentment.’

Tesalos had hated the Empire.

If he practiced it again, Perda would be enslaved by a fury and hatred that weren’t his own.

‘So it must be discarded.’

One shouldn’t cling to petty things. What mattered was recognizing who you were in the present.

Twisted desires crumbled into ash and vanished.

With a heart as clear as a lake, Perda smiled.

“Burns really well.”

Luri watched him as he murmured that.

Her assessment of Perda was as follows:

‘An unpredictable psychopath.’

And she added one more:

‘Also a masochist.’

A combination so absurd that Luri didn’t even know how to classify it.

As her discomfort grew, her scowl deepened more and more.