Calculations Must Be Thorough
Bernel Marquis.
Age: twenty-seven.
Graduate of the Veritas Academy’s 525th class.
Bestowed title: “Complete Disaster.”
Residence: a half-basement in the slums of Escoleia (the previous tenant had fled after a single week, unable to endure it).
Assets on hand: seventy-two gold coins.
“When the hell are you paying me back, you bastard?!”
–Seventy-two.
Two hulking men were tearing the place apart, accompanied by a comparatively smaller man whose face was pure menace. And one more man, on his knees, could only watch their rampage in helpless, trembling silence.
The thin man with the oversized glasses began wringing his hands.
“P-please, just a little more time. It’s a long-term experiment, so the results are going to take a bit longer—”
“How much longer is ‘long-term’ supposed to be? I gave you a year! You said you’d have something meaningful in a year!”
“I-I said it could come out. But collecting the monster carcasses is hard, and I…”
“Ahh.”
The loan shark waved his hand, cutting him off.
“Spare me the excuses. Can you turn what you’ve got into money right now or not?”
“Th-that… probably not. There are still too many variables…”
“Haa…”
The man looking down at Bernel was a loan shark—the kind who lent money at crushing interest to people the banks wouldn’t touch. Their real goal was almost always the same: seize everything before the research ever finished.
“I really stepped in some serious shit this time.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. The money he had lent Bernel Marquis looked unrecoverable. Dragging a battered chair over, the loan shark sat, clamped a cigar between his teeth, and spoke.
“Fine. I’ll give you an extension on the debt.”
“R-really?”
“On the condition that you abandon the research you’re doing now.”
“…What?”
The loan shark exhaled a long stream of smoke.
“I hear you were something of a prodigy your first year at the Academy. Your transcript says you ranked first not just in your class, but across the entire cohort.”
“Ah, well… back then I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I just coasted and somehow ended up first…”
Coasted.
Only this idiot would call taking first place “coasting.”
“So do something else. Half-ass some other project and produce results. I’ve got a few projects I took off other losers. I’ll hand them to you. Finish them and bring them back, and the debt vanishes. How’s that sound?”
“C-couldn’t I… run them in parallel with my own experiment? If it’s only that much—”
Thud!
A dagger flew and buried itself in the floor, perfectly positioned right in front of his groin.
“Hiiiek!”
“I try to be nice and you lose all sense. These days, because of that whole ‘human rights’ nonsense, organ prices are through the roof. How much did they say a set goes for?”
“If we keep him just barely alive, the interest alone would be covered.”
“How about it? Sell your organs and keep your experiment. You don’t want that, do you?”
“N-no, that’s a bit…”
“Then drop the research and do mine.”
“That’s also a bit…”
Wham!
The loan shark’s boot slammed into Bernel’s ribs.
“You little shit trying to play games with me?! This is no good, that is no good—then die, you worthless mutt! You’re not even worth keeping alive!”
“Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!”
Bernel curled up helplessly under the beating. He couldn’t even manage a proper sound, but inside he was screaming.
Someone… someone please save me!
His prayer—for a single rose rising from the gutter—never reached anyone.
“That’s enough.”
Today, however, was different.
The thugs and the loan shark stopped mid-strike. They turned toward the door they themselves had kicked in. Bernel followed their gaze.
“Sorry to interrupt what looks like a lovely time, but I’d prefer you stop.”
The ray of salvation Bernel had so desperately wanted… was gray-haired.
Ahh…
Bernel despaired. He didn’t know this man. A stranger would never save him, so despair was the only rational response.
The loan shark, still panting from the beating, smoothed his hair back and flicked his tongue across his lips.
“Looking at the clothes, you’re some young master from somewhere. Don’t interfere right now.”
“I’m afraid I must interfere.”
The gray-haired man pointed a finger straight at Bernel.
“I have business with that man.”
By the time Ferda entered the half-basement, the beating was already well underway.
Watching the man get thrashed like a dog that had bitten its master, Ferda thought:
The timing really is perfect.
Appearing right when the man was praying for a ray of salvation—couldn’t ask for better.
“That’s enough.”
And so Ferda stopped the loan shark’s fists. Bernel became secondary. The loan shark eyed Ferda with a crooked posture, looking him up and down.
“You’re not the usual bookish brats from Escoleia… outsider?”
“Yes. From out of town.”
“He owe you money too?”
“No.”
“Then wait your turn. I’m first. Finish roughing him up, then you can have your chat.”
“How generous of you. What if I simply clear the debt for him?”
A beat of silence. The loan shark’s expression flickered with calculation before he spoke.
“Principal plus interest: seventy-two gold. Can you pay it?”
“Of course.”
“Then just pay the money.”
Seventy-two gold coins. For Ferda, now lord of Baldrova Castle, it was hardly a fortune—something he could toss over like leftover ribs. Yet he did not accept the offer at once.
His blue eyes rolled toward Bernel, who was still curled on the floor bleeding. Looking at that pitiful figure, Ferda made a different proposal.
“How about this. We factor in the beating and the property damage and settle the whole thing for fifty. Sound fair?”
The loan shark barked a laugh.
“Ha, are you insane? Everything we broke is worth three gold at most.”
“Is that so? Then take forty-nine. Considering the thrashing you gave that man, twenty gold is practically free.”
“You’ve lost it. We’re supposed to burn twenty gold just because we got a little friendly?”
“Negotiation failed, then?”
“This isn’t a negotiation—it’s extortion!”
“Failed it is.”
Ferda raised a finger.
“In that case, you’ll receive exactly what you gave, and we’ll settle it that way. Ruri.”
The girl who had been standing behind him stepped forward.
“Make them identical to him.”
“….”
“I’ll keep my promise, so don’t worry.”
“Haa… understood.”
The silver-haired maid with her side-tail walked forward, expression blank.
“What’s with the brat?”
“Some young master dragging a kid into a slum like this? What an idiot.”
The thugs snickered lewdly. Unlike the large, uncultured men, the loan shark understood perfectly well.
That “brat” was no ordinary child.
In the next instant the unassuming girl released a fraction of the power she had been concealing. Her silver eyes flashed with an eerie light.
Beeeeep—!
A simultaneous ringing exploded in their ears.
“Ugh!”
“Guh?!”
“Wh-what?”
The thugs and the loan shark reeled in confusion. But something far more alarming followed.
“Ugh… uurgh…”
“M-my body…!”
Their bodies would not move. They strained, but all they managed was a violent trembling. Their limbs had turned to stone.
Ruri glanced at them, then approached the nearest thug.
“I’ll start with you.”
She pointed a finger. The space around the thug warped like a heat mirage.
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
A barrage of blows erupted out of nowhere, and the thug collapsed. Covered in bruises, nose streaming blood, he groaned on the floor—exactly the state Bernel had been in.
What the hell is that?!
The remaining thug and the loan shark broke out in cold sweat. Nothing in their world prepared them for this.
Her eyes turned to the second thug.
“You’re next.”
“Uh…?”
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
Even seeing it a second time, the loan shark still couldn’t process it. Space warped, and simultaneous impacts detonated.
Magic!
He recognized it—but recognition alone explained nothing.
It’s magic, sure, but magic like that exists?!
No circle, no chant—just a casual flick of a finger. And it produced that kind of destructive force?
“Next… well, there’s only you left.”
“U-uaaah!”
The loan shark made one last desperate struggle, forcing his trembling, locked body to move. The air in front of him twisted.
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
He toppled face-first.
Crack!
“Aaaagh!”
Another scream tore free. As he fell, his right index finger had snapped.
“My finger—aaaaagh!”
A variable that hadn’t been in the calculation.
“You bastard! You said you’d make us the same! That wasn’t the same!!”
He threw a full tantrum, the same vicious face now twisted into a child’s fit. This man had started his career with blackmail and threats; that talent was on full display now.
It was an absurd spectacle—yet Ferda remained unmoved.
“Indeed. How troublesome.”
His expression grew grave as he looked down at the man. The loan shark felt a sudden, ominous chill.
“You’re saying it’s unfair that only your finger got broken, is that it?”
“Y-yeah, you son of a bitch! What are you gonna do about my finger?!”
Ferda turned his head toward Ruri.
“The gentleman feels wronged.”
“Understood.”
There were two ways to soothe that sense of injustice: give appropriate compensation… or do the exact same thing to everyone else. Ferda had no intention of paying compensation.
Snap!
“Gyaaah!”
Snap!
“Uwaaah!”
The other two thugs’ fingers were broken in identical fashion.
Thinking the matter settled, Ruri started to turn away.
“Ruri.”
Ferda called her name.
“Yes.”
“Isn’t there still one left?”
“…Are you serious?”
She narrowed her brows. Ferda simply nodded.
“Calculations must be thorough.”
Ruri’s face said she did not understand. If the calculation truly had to be thorough, then yes—one side remained.
“Uh…?”
Bernel Marquis.
Snap!
“Gyaaah!”
His index finger broke as well.
The tantrum-throwing loan shark and his underlings lost the power of speech at the sight.
Wh-what?
Why break that bookworm’s finger?
Wasn’t he on Bernel’s side?
The bone-deep pain was almost forgotten. In the name of fairness, he had broken Bernel’s finger too—so that every single one of them ended up in the exact same condition.
What a crazy, deranged bastard!
Only then did genuine fear of Ferda begin to take root.
Ferda surveyed their matching states and gave a satisfied nod.
“Looks finished to me. If anyone feels they’ve been punished too harshly, speak up.”
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“I’ll make sure everything is perfectly equal.”
“N-no, sir!!”
“Th-this is more than enough!”
“Is that so?”
Ferda held out a hand to Ruri. She produced a pouch from beneath her skirt; he tossed it to the loan shark. Exactly sixty-nine gold coins—property damage already deducted.
“The debt is cleared. Now get out.”
“Th-thank you.”
They fled without a single glance back.
Watching the direction they vanished, Ferda spoke quietly to Ruri.
“You’re quite skilled with magic.”
“I only used the most basic techniques.”
“Do those basics include healing magic?”
“I can manage a certain amount.”
“Then I’d like you to treat Bernel over there.”
“Nngh… no need.”
Bernel, still moaning in pain, waved a hand.
“If you receive recovery magic too often, you build resistance. When you truly need it later, it might not take… so I’ll endure this much.”
“A rational judgment, befitting a scholar.”
Bernel simply gripped his own finger.
“Gnnngh…!”
Crack!
He forced it back into place, then carefully tested the joint. Confirming it was functional again, he wiped the sweat from his brow.
“Hoo… thank you for saving me.”
Even if you did break my finger yourself…
He swallowed the rest and asked Ferda,
“May I ask your name?”
“Ferda Valdrova.”
“Valdrova? Isn’t that the name of the Red Dragon?”
“It is. I am the one who will become her consort.”
“Huh? C-could it be?! The one who got engaged to the Grand Duchess is—?!”
All color drained from Bernel’s face. He dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor.
“I-I failed to recognize the Grand Duchess’s husband! Forgive me!”
“No need. Not knowing is only natural. Don’t concern yourself.”
“And he is not yet her husband. He merely uses the Baldrova name for now.”
Ruri slipped in a quiet correction.
Bernel introduced himself.
“I am Bernel Marquis. As the world knows me, the scholar they call Complete Disaster. I’m sure you already knew that when you came. Haha…”
“Yes. Your reputation has reached me.”
“What business could you possibly have with a failure like me…?”
“Beating around the bush is tiresome, so I’ll be direct. I’m interested in the research you’re conducting.”
“M-my research?”
His eyes went round. Even the loan shark who had lent him money had treated that research like a joke—and now someone was interested?
“If you come to Baldrova Castle, I guarantee unconditional support for the research you’re doing right now.”
“Pardon?”
“Materials, research funds, facilities—whatever you need, without limit.”
“H-huuh!”
Unconditional support. No scholar alive had ever received terms so extravagant. Joy and anxiety warred inside him. What condition would this man attach?
In a trembling voice he asked,
“Wh-wh-what is the condition?”
“Your research. I intend to turn it into weapons.”
Bernel’s face stiffened.
“Weapons… you say?”
“Yes. With your research.”
The man who moments earlier had been ready to cheer now shook his head.
“Then I cannot do it.”
“Is that any way to speak to the man who just cleared your debt?”
“E-even if a blade is at my throat, I cannot. I… want a peaceful Serdes Continent. I only wish for the people living on it to be happy.”
Ferda had already expected this would not go smoothly. Bernel Marquis was a pacifist, after all.
“Tools of war… only create more victims. So even for my benefactor, I cannot do that.”
Ferda rested his chin on his hand and murmured,
“So even with a blade at your throat, you won’t change your mind?”
A chill ran down Bernel’s spine. He had heard countless threats—I’ll kill you, I’ll cripple you. This was different. Death itself felt as though it were embracing him from behind.
“But think carefully.”
Ferda swept a finger through the dust on the floor.
“Whose grace do you think allows you to research so comfortably in a rat-infested hole like this?”
“This is what I chose.”
“No. You did not choose it. The peace you enjoy is not something insignificant people like you can simply decide to create.”
Bernel tensed. Emotion had begun to color the man’s voice.
“The Grand Duchess Baldrova, who will be my consort, rides to the front lines nearly once every three days. She fights monsters that could casually wipe a city like this off the map. What do you think she stakes each time? A bit of territory? The people of the eastern marches? My life?”
Ferda stabbed a finger into his own chest.
“No. She stakes herself. While you cling to your pitiful convictions and would throw away your life for them, she turns her own life into a sacred blade and cuts down enemies to forge peace.”
Ferda had always watched Baldrova fight on those front lines. From the highest vantage he had secretly burned the sight into his eyes. In this moment it felt as though her figure stood before him again.
His chest tightened. His finger absently dug into his own sternum. For a man who could only watch powerlessly, guilt was all that remained.
“That is why I will do anything for her.”
A flame flickered deep in Ferda’s eyes.
“So no matter what you think, I will have you build those weapons.”