Translator: Nox

I Married the Dragon I Killed

Chapter 24

If you were to ask for the name of the most prominent merchant in the Arken Empire, most would point to Herman Pascal.

Herman Pascal.

He founded a trading company named Pascal after his own surname, and he was an ambitious man expanding his influence not just within the Empire, but across the entire Serdes Continent.

He had three children—two sons and one daughter—all of whom had been hailed as geniuses since childhood.

However, the one who displayed the most exceptional talent among them was the second son, Stefan Pascal.

And right now, he was thinking this:

‘If things keep going like this, I’m a dead man!’

The reason was simple: the battle for succession had begun in earnest.

He was a man with a mercantile sense that rivaled even Herman Pascal’s. He possessed an aggressive disposition, investing whenever he sensed profit and never looking back even if an investment failed.

He had intended to prove his worth solely through his abilities as a merchant.

Thus, Stefan focused entirely on honing his instincts under his father. It was only when his father set the stage for the succession war that Stefan realized Herman had failed to teach him one crucial thing.

‘The charisma to command people!’

Stefan lacked that decisive charisma essential for a merchant leader.

Compared to the influence and charisma wielded by his eldest brother, Merchit Pascal, and his youngest sister, Tilda Pascal, Stefan was nothing more than a background extra in a crowd.

With no presence to speak of, he was being steadily pushed out of the succession race.

It was then that Merchit made him a proposal.

—I will be the practical successor, but you’re better at running the business, so you take charge of the company operations. I’ll only handle the company mercenaries I’ve been managing. That way, we can at least prevent the disaster of everything falling to your sister. What do you say?

Merchit Pascal had struck gold by jumping into the mercenary business under the guise of protecting trade convoys. He was a man of great intellect who also possessed formidable personal martial skills, having hired former knight instructors to train him properly.

Stefan might have lacked charisma, but he was no fool.

‘He takes the mercenaries and I just manage the business? Give me a break.’

No matter how much money moved people, it was nothing in the face of raw force. Merchit was already steadily building his military power; what would happen once he was officially named successor?

‘The hound that catches the rabbit is always destined for the cooking pot.’

He could not join hands with Merchit Pascal.

‘Then should I team up with my sister?’

Stefan let out a hollow laugh at the absurdity of the thought. He’d rather hang himself.

‘That girl is only interested in seducing men to swallow up other companies and then devouring us whole.’

His younger sister, Tilda Pascal, was already engaged to the heir of another major guild in the Empire. Inheriting her mother’s legendary beauty, she used it as a weapon to build a vast network of connections. She acted like a pure, simple-minded woman, but she always carried a blade in her heart, possessing a sociopathic streak that meant she was always ready to strike.

If there was one thing the three siblings agreed on, it was that two suns could not exist under one sky.

‘To survive, I have to beat them both.’

But how?

Stefan had no connections. Even the directors belonging to Pascal only spoke the names of Merchit and Tilda. It was as if Stefan wasn’t even in the conversation.

“Ugggh….”

With a groan, Stefan collapsed onto his desk. He had work to do, but he couldn’t focus. They say there’s always a way out even if the heavens fall, so why wasn’t there a single opening for him?

As he was wallowing in his resentment, his secretary opened the door and entered.

“Um, Manager? Are you in?”

Stefan quickly sat up and flashed a bright smile as if nothing were wrong.

“What is it?”

“An urgent report just came in. It seems there’s a demand for the same specific item across the Empire, and we need to secure stock.”

“Stock? Is there something in high demand right now?”

“That’s why it’s an urgent report, sir.”

“True. So, what is it?”

“Well… it seems Wandering Knights are requesting monster corpses.”

“What? Monster corpses?”

It was an unusual order, even for an urgent report. There was a common superstition that keeping such things nearby brought terrible luck, so monster corpses were rarely kept intact.

“Don’t we have quite a few of those in our warehouse?”

Of course, Stefan was a man whose common sense differed from the masses. He was the type to keep anything if he thought it might eventually turn a profit. He had judged that monster corpses could serve as a kind of trophy.

“Yes. I’ve confirmed we have about 150 of them.”

“Then just sell those. Why do we need more?”

“The thing is… the current volume requested is several times that amount.”

“What? What are they going to do with that many?”

Usually, bringing in even ten monsters was enough to earn praise, wasn’t it? Even if it didn't earn a medal, it was enough to make an impression.

“I thought you might be curious, so I looked into it. I found this.”

The secretary showed him a transcript of a public notice.

“Word is they’re looking for an official in the Far East, and they’re recruiting brave knights who can fight monsters. If someone presents thirty monster corpses, they’ll be granted the estate and title previously held by the recently executed Thessalos Walcher…. That’s why the Wandering Knights are placing orders.”

“That’s certainly tempting.”

For those drifters desperate to establish a single achievement, they would fall over themselves to secure a fief and a title. The location was the Far East, adjacent to the Demonic Land, but did that really matter to them?

“Hmm….”

Stefan scratched his chin. His eyes remained fixed on the transcript.

‘There’s no way this is meant to be taken literally….’

Stefan worked his brain to interpret the hidden meaning behind the notice.

‘Asking those bastards to bring monsters…. Is it to simultaneously gather people who have the ability to hunt them?’

Was the minimum requirement of thirty monsters a screening process, with something else following afterward?

‘That’s one interpretation, but let’s look at it differently.’

Stefan applied his merchant’s instincts. To grant a fief for bringing in thirty monster corpses—

‘It’s a blatantly lopsided trade.’

While difficult, it wasn’t a heroic feat worthy of an entire estate. An excessive reward meant one of two things. Either the person who posted the notice was catastrophically stupid, or—

‘It’s bait to draw them in.’

Wandering Knights from all over would flock there for a chance at a title. And what would they bring? Their subordinates and monster corpses.

‘Which means the Valdrova Principality needs monster corpses.’

Here, Stefan hit a wall. They wanted monsters in a place where monsters were crawling everywhere? It was like importing sand to the middle of a desert or fish to a coastline.

‘Are they trying to cook the books? A black market tactic? Stock manipulation through chaos?’

Among the countless possibilities, if they were publicly posting for a mass quantity of corpses, there was only one likely reason.

‘Research.’

They were conducting research that required a large number of corpses and using government positions as bait to lure people in.

‘Perhaps….’

There might be money in this. He became so excited that the eyes that had been dull from the succession struggle began to sparkle.

“Are we currently trading monster corpses?”

“Yes, sir. Wandering Knights are swarming in and fighting among themselves.”

“Understood. First, tell all other branches to buy up every monster corpse they can. We secure them as our top priority. Got it?”

“Uh… is that alright?”

“Just do as I say.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Then!”

Stefan kicked back his chair and grabbed his coat.

“Wait, where are you going, Manager?”

“I’m going on a business trip for a few days. You said there was a Wandering Knight downstairs, right?”

“Yes, but, Manager?!”

He dashed off as if every second were precious.

* * *

“Muhahaha! Consider it an honor to be accompanied by this Hero, Lobelus.”

A Wandering Knight named Lobelus spoke with a greasy smile. His every word and action reeked of narcissism.

Stefan forced an uncomfortable smile.

“Ah, I am honored. Haha….”

“As long as you are with Lobelus, you shall feel as safe as if the Imperial walls were surrounding you on all sides. As for myself….”

As the story began, Stefan sighed inwardly.

‘I really have a god-awful eye for people.’

To think that out of the ten Wandering Knights who visited the company, he thought this guy was the best. For the entire two days of travel to the Principality, the man had done nothing but brag about his achievements. When he ran out of stories, he repeated them, and yet they somehow changed slightly each time. It meant he didn't even bother to memorize his own lies.

‘This is why I hate Wandering Knights.’

Wandering Knights! Eighty percent of the tales bards were required to memorize were the exploits of Wandering Knights. Their adventures and achievements made hearts race and provided a catharsis to soothe the boredom of daily life. Of course, that was a fantasy only held by children listening to bards.

Stefan knew their true faces all too well.

‘They call themselves Wandering Knights, but they’re just bandits and thugs….’

They were a military force with training above a certain level, but with no master and no affiliation. They were an armed group that wouldn't be surprising if they turned into bandits or thugs at any moment.

‘In fact, several of them show up every week asking for sponsorship.’

There was no shortage of shameless people who couldn't prove their skills but demanded money and identity guarantees. While sponsorship was necessary for building a network, he didn't want to leave a stain by bringing such hoodlums into his circle.

‘And what’s the point?’

They were drifters who would boast they could do anything for a title, only to be the first to run away in their underwear when things got difficult. There was a reason they were wandering.

Neigh!

“Whoa? What’s wrong with these beasts?”

The carriage horses began to rear. They had caught the scent of a dragon. The horses of the Principality were used to the scent and didn't panic, but to outside horses, it was a dangerous scent akin to jumping into a fire.

Stefan advised the struggling coachman.

“Put the incense masks we prepared on them, and they’ll move again. There’s a pouch there; put it over the horses’ muzzles.”

“Ah, those? Understood!”

He placed the masks filled with incense pouches over the horses' muzzles. Only then did they stop struggling and stare blankly ahead. The stalled carriage began to move again.

Stefan looked up at the sky at an angle. The Lone Mountain, called the last bastion of the Far East. Valdrova Castle was built upon it. A castle built atop the lair of a dragon that could not discard its ferocious nature.

‘The Red Dragon Valdrova.’

He swallowed hard instinctively. A tyrant so ruthless she had torn apart even an Imperial Prince. A demonic dragon that sought to rule the world by absorbing all demonic energy!

‘Just what kind of fool is the guy who went through with an engagement to that dragon?’

At the same time, he thought:

‘What kind of person could that fool be to me?’

* * *

Upon entering Valdrova Castle, Stefan looked around the inner walls. Since the notice was addressed to Wandering Knights, many had already gathered.

“Hey, don’t cut in line!”

“Ah, you there! You’re creeping toward our monsters. Steal them and you’re dead!”

“You bastard, did you just glare at me?!”

Vigorous men stood around their carriages, engaged in a battle of nerves. Looking at their appearance, the sizes and styles of their armor were a mess, and even their maintenance was lax.

‘Their subordinates look like nothing but bandits….’

In contrast, the Wandering Knights themselves were flashy to the extreme. Some wore brand-new equipment made by famous craftsmen just to stand out, and one had even hired a bard to read out his profile. Another had cleverly left battle scars on his armor to appeal as a veteran of a hundred battles.

‘That’s the guy who bought corpses from our company.’

Stefan remembered him buying thirty. And the carriage was loaded with exactly thirty corpses, no more. They all walked down the corridor like dignified and elegant knights.

‘Every last one of them is all style and no substance….’

They didn't wash, but they wore heavy perfume; the resulting mixture was a nauseating stench. They eventually arrived at the banquet hall. With the tables pushed aside and the center cleared, it was spacious enough for nearly fifty knights to stand with plenty of room between them.

“Come to think of it.”

Lobelus spoke to him.

“Have you ever seen the person who is the master of this castle?”

The fact that he was asking about someone else instead of talking about himself was proof that he was nervous. Stefan shook his head.

“I haven’t seen him, but I heard he’s from the Rosnova family.”

“Ah! The Rosnova family! The sword that protects the Empire. But why was he chosen as the Regent’s fiancé?”

“I heard he’s physically weak. And since he has blue eyes instead of the characteristic eyes of the Rosnova family, the affair was almost certain. They say the family was looking for an excuse to kick him out… but he accepted the offer and is now the fiancé and the Regent of the Valdrova Principality.”

“Ho… is that so?”

Lobelus scratched his chin upon hearing that. His eyes glinted with a greed that far exceeded his station.

“Hmm, if a half-wit kicked out of his family can act like a king as a fiancé… does that mean if things go well, I could take that fiancé position for myself?”

Words more suited to a bandit than a knight tumbled out of his mouth without hesitation. They didn't even seem to realize they were currently inside the territory of that ‘half-wit.’

‘To think a guy like this is an offspring of a knightly family once called the sword of the Arken Empire….’

He knew the knights of the Arken Empire were rotting, but seeing a bottom deeper than the floor made him want to sigh. However, Stefan was a merchant. He was a man who knew that the blade was closer than the law and knew how to speak honeyed words anytime, anywhere.

“Haha… well, I suppose that’s possible.”

Stefan hadn't expected much from Ferda when he came here either. There were rumors that he had executed Thessalos Walcher and brought the Far East lords to heel, but rumors were always prone to exaggeration.

‘What could a guy who was kicked out for being useless possibly do….’

He waited for him, having set aside any expectations for Ferda. But when the master of the castle finally appeared, he realized once again.

That he truly had a god-awful eye for people.