The Perfect Opportunity

So she was capable of making faces like that after all.

Ferda had wondered whether Ruri was as emotionally barren as he himself had become. Yet the childish look that suited her appearance put him strangely at ease.

Ruri’s cheeks puffed out like a squirrel’s in autumn as she endlessly stuffed honey-preserved fruit into her mouth. Sensing Ferda’s gaze, she rolled her eyes. Her silver irises narrowed to slits as she pulled the cup protectively against her chest.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m not giving you any.”

“I’m not eating any.”

Every living thing has its ranks; where there are the wealthy, there are also the poor.

Even Escoleia, founded on the ideal that all stand equal before knowledge, was no different. Escoleia had its wealthy districts, and it had its slums as well. And among those slums there was a separate quarter where the poorest of the poor lived—a place where sunlight barely reached, thick with the stench of sewers and rat droppings, so foul that one hesitated even to open a door.

That was precisely where Bernel Marquis lived.

Ruri could not help marveling at the window set lower than her own height.

“People actually manage to live in a place like this.”

“Humans can live in more places than you’d think. I’ve even slept in a toilet.”

“Did you live like that with the Rosnova family?”

“It was worse hell back then.”

That had been the penniless period when his money-grubbing master had fleeced him of every last coin. It was then that Ferda learned a person could sleep even in a toilet reeking of shit and piss.

“Does it seem like he’s home?”

Ruri nodded at Ferda’s question.

“I can sense a presence.”

Crash!

A chaotic racket erupted beyond the window. Hearing it, she added,

“And it sounds like something’s already going down.”

“Prior guests, then…”

Walking in now would mean getting tangled in trouble.

“Couldn’t ask for better timing.”

Ferda clasped his hands behind his back and headed straight down the stairs.

Human memory is finite and unstable. Yet just as one never forgets how to breathe, there is always something one is bound to remember. In Ferda’s case, it was the objects of his hatred—not mere names, but a list of people he hated and longed to avenge himself upon. His kill list, in other words.

To hate them properly he had delved into their achievements. To take revenge he had carefully noted their flaws.

Looking back now, it was an utterly ridiculous thing to do.

And when he recalled the reasons for that hatred, they were stuffed full of persecution complexes—petty affairs that made him flush with embarrassment.

Still, now that I’ve returned to the past, they’ve become excellent intelligence.

Ferda clearly knew the strengths and weaknesses of those who would become great figures in the future. People who, had they only done this or that, could have accomplished even more. People who would have achieved greatness if they had turned their eyes to other talents a little sooner.

There are plenty of outstanding individuals.

Too many, even. Recruiting them all was realistically impossible. The number of humans he coveted alone exceeded a hundred, and he never imagined they would all work together in harmony.

I’ll have to set priorities first.

Now that he was the Grand Duke’s fiancé and acting proxy, Ferda considered what was needed.

The entire Grand Duchy of Baldrova is currently neglected.

The Grand Duke had not stepped forward herself, leaving autonomy to the lords. With no one to supervise them, public sentiment had deteriorated considerably.

I’ll need to look after the people’s livelihood.

So Ferda’s task was decided—but deciding was the easy part. Kings who interfered with local lords only to face rebellion or civil war were common enough.

That point has been resolved amicably, so no problem there.

When Ferda had sent the letters, he had fully expected the higher-ups to push back. That expectation had been spectacularly wrong; he had received oaths of loyalty from the remaining fourteen lords.

Ruri’s act of beheading them and hanging the heads on the castle gates must have worked perfectly.

The lords now understood that Ferda was not to be ignored, so for the moment he would leave them be.

Internal affairs can stay at that for the time being. Now for external threats?

The chief among them were the monsters and magical beasts that sowed chaos. The Grand Duke’s domain lay in the far-eastern region adjacent to the lands contaminated by the Demon King a hundred and fifty years ago. This neighboring territory was seeing that contamination spread as well.

One of the main causes is the magical beasts.

Magical beasts born of or contaminated by Magi were the sort of monster found almost everywhere. Even in the central continent one occasionally saw them; in the far east straddling the Land of Evil they were naturally far more common.

The presence of magical beasts contaminates the land.

The longer they lingered, the faster desolation accelerated. They were beings that prevented life from blooming and contaminated even existing creatures. That was why subjugation requests for magical beasts were always treated as emergencies wherever one went.

If I can reduce casualties and land contamination from those magical beasts…

Food production would naturally increase, and the people’s livelihood would recover. If Baldrova, as the outer master, blocked external threats, then Ferda would handle the internal ones.

And for that, what’s needed is technology, of course.

Not merely well-trained soldiers, but means for even civilians to hunt magical beasts effectively—that was the top priority. Using that as his criterion, Ferda pulled figures from his kill list. The people he had thus narrowed down totaled four.

“So these are the ones we need to recruit as top priority.”

Ruri checked the names on the paper Ferda handed her.

Ruri frowned the moment she saw them.

“Names of humans I’ve never heard or seen before.”

“It’s possible not to know them. They haven’t distinguished themselves yet.”

“I said to appoint talent, not to call up neighborhood friends for a game of playing officials.”

Ruri’s gaze sharpened. Dragon Fear tinged with her emotions wrapped around Ferda.

There has definitely been a change.

Ever since the engagement ceremony the effects of Dragon Fear had clearly weakened. Still, it remained thoroughly unpleasant. A girl who looked about fourteen glaring at him—if he felt nothing, that would be stranger.

“Do I look like the sort of person who would do such a thing?”

“It’s because you don’t look like that sort that it bothers me more.”

“What a contradictory thing to say.”

“Anyway, could you at least tell me about these humans? Aside from Helus Fobidas, the other three are people I’ve never heard of.”

Helus Fobidas was a mage known as the Sage of Water. His advice was said to be so wise that kings and lords cherished him, according to public rumor.

“I guarantee you the three above Helus Fobidas are more important.”

“Then by all means, explain.”

“This Bernel Marquis, the one we need to seek out first, lives in a city called Escoleia.”

At the city name Ruri asked reflexively,

“A scholar?”

“Yes.”

Escoleia was a city in the mid-eastern part of the continent, known as the city of scholars. The only reason to visit a chicken coop was to find chickens or eggs, so Ruri knew at once he was a scholar.

“You know that scholars receive titles, right?”

“I’ve heard you get one when you graduate from the academy. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything. This fellow received the title of ‘Mess.’”

“Do you intend to turn our castle into a shambles? Revealing your true colors right after the engagement is not a wise choice.”

Since a scholar’s title could dictate the course of one’s life, negative words were carefully avoided. Being openly called “Mess” meant even the people around him could not stand it.

“There’s a reason he received such a title. It means he attempts things others will not.”

“There must be reasons scholars don’t attempt certain things.”

“Of course. But he is someone who ceaselessly attempts them.”

“Doesn’t that just make him a fool?”

“A man of conviction.”

“A stubborn fool, then.”

He could not deny it. When Ferda had first seen the man he had thought the same—fool. Ignoring the cold stares of those around him as he walked his own path had seemed both pathetic and noble.

And that stubborn fool succeeds in the end.

Even if everyone cursed that it was impossible, even if they condemned him for wasting time, the solitary path he had carefully walked would shine. Back then he had always voiced the same regret:

“If only I could have researched more, I would have been able to create so many more things by now.”

It was only natural.

What fool invests in something that cannot succeed?

Even a noble rich enough to throw money into the air would feel the same. No one wanted to become the idiot who supported the fool titled “Mess.”

But Ferda knew this man.

“So what does this man research?”

In the future he would become the pioneer who opened the age of Magic Engineering.

“Refining Magic Stones from magical-beast corpses and processing them into power sources.”

At the center stood a single World Tree that pierced the heavens, called the Tree of Knowledge, encircled by five great archives. One might think little sunlight reached a place beneath the tree, yet the Tree of Knowledge grew no leaves, making it essentially a gigantic pillar.

In the city beneath that pillar, instead of the usual smell of water or mustiness, the thick scents of coffee and black tea hung heavily in the air. Countless people accustomed to that smell moved about busily. They had somehow turned the distance a single person needed to walk into circulating paths and were moving along them. Their destinations varied, but every one of them carried three books under an arm and had freshly baked toast clenched in their mouths.

“There are a lot of people.”

“It’s where every scholar and their employees gather, so it can’t be helped.”

“I don’t know if I’d want to live in such a cramped place.”

“They say they seek greater value than settling for the present.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I.”

Ferda and Ruri surveyed the street at a glance. Just within their field of vision hundreds of people were jostling as they moved. All wore black robes, and nine out of ten wore glasses.

“And now we’re to find one person here?”

“That’s right.”

“It’ll take more than a month.”

In terms of hidden-picture difficulty it was close to extreme. It would have been a lie to say it did not feel hopeless.

Since so many people came and went, street vendors were also busily operating along the walls. They mainly sold finger foods that could be eaten quickly. One could see many people buying one each as they brushed past, flowing like a river.

If they’re street vendors, they might know.

Thinking so, Ferda looked at Ruri.

“……”

Her gaze was quite different from the usual—businesslike and expressionless. It was another face she never showed except when angry. She was staring fixedly at a street vendor selling preserved fruit. Her round eyes sparkled with silver light in the pupils. After watching like that for a long while, her slender throat bobbed up and down.

Gulp.

The series of actions she showed meant one thing.

“Want some?”

“……What do you take me for?”

Ruri narrowed her eyes and grumbled. The reaction was more agitated than usual.

“I simply thought that vendor over there might know something.”

“I thought the same. We should ask.”

Ferda headed toward the vendor with Ruri. Ruri’s eyes remained fixed on the preserved fruit.

“Pardon me.”

“A young lord and a cute little maid girl. What can I get you?”

“I’m looking for a person. I’d be glad if you knew him.”

“A person? This place is crawling with people! Just the bespectacled ones here number in the tens of thousands, and the ones who buy fruit-honey preserve skewers from me alone number in the thousands. How am I supposed to remember them all one by one?”

The vendor wore a strange smile full of expectation. Ferda lowered his gaze to the preserved fruit beyond the glass case.

“Would buying some of those skewers bring your memory back?”

“Haha, I’d be grateful if you did! But let’s hear the story first. Who are you looking for?”

“A scholar known as ‘Mess.’”

The vendor’s eyes went round.

“Ah, Mess, you say? Then why didn’t you say so sooner?”

“You know him?”

The vendor grinned, revealing yellowed teeth.

“Hundreds of thousands live in this city. But if you don’t know where the man called ‘Mess’ lives, you’re a spy. Go grab people on the street and ask. They’ll all know.”

“Then there’s no need to buy those preserved fruits, is there?”

“……!”

Ruri, who had only been listening, suddenly flinched and trembled.

“Still, wouldn’t it be good to show a little sincerity and buy some? Looking at your appearance, you seem a wealthy lord… Sometimes a snack like this is a pleasure, you know? I’ll give you three skewers for five copper.”

“That’s right. If someone shows goodwill, it’s important to offer fitting compensation in return.”

Ruri casually cut in, taking the merchant’s side. If goodwill was shown, it was proper to respond accordingly. Ferda agreed on that point as well, so he purchased three fruit-honey preserve skewers.

“Eat up.”

He handed the sticky honey clumps to Ruri.

“Won’t you have any, Lord Ferda?”

“I’m not a child.”

“Huh? I’m not a child either, though?”

“I know.”

“Then isn’t it ridiculous to give them all to me? Aren’t you treating me like a child? Are you going to lie without even wetting your lips?”

“So you don’t want them?”

“……”

Ruri made a thoroughly resentful face even as she accepted the skewers Ferda held out. As if she had been waiting, she plucked off a fruit coated in honey and popped it into her mouth. Her silver eyes sparkled even more brightly.