My Slain Dragon Bride

Chapter 57: Chapter 57

Chapter 57 - Kidnapping

The regular meeting of the Grand Ducal Council had come to an end.

Just as they had gathered before, people now began to disperse once more.

As befitted the movements of Grand Dukes and those of even higher status, enormous armies had gathered in the Central Region.

In this state, they also held a military review, displaying and assessing one another’s national strength.

In that regard, Escolleia was far removed from all their splendor.

It was a city of knowledge, free from diplomatic conflicts.

Preferring practical and efficient means, they traveled in a magic-powered carriage operated by a mage’s Mana.

"Couldn’t we switch to a regular horse carriage as well?"

Headmaster Bernard complained to the mage serving as the driver.

"You’re saying that again?"

"Every time I come to the Grand Ducal Council, I think the same thing. As the headmaster of a major city... shouldn’t I at least have some dignity?"

"Oh, please don’t use words like ’swagger.’ You’re not some mercenary who crawled through rough battlefields. Hearing a pot-bellied old man say that just makes you look pathetic."

"Besides, where in our cramped little city would we even raise horses? The scholars would obviously complain that the space needed for just one horse could accommodate another hundred researchers."

"Even so, I’m still the headmaster. At least let me preserve a little pride..."

"And then you’ll get hit with an inspection notice and cause a huge commotion? I know luxury matters in noble society, but the people who understand that don’t become scholars."

"I just want to ride in a horse carriage... sigh..."

"If you keep whining like that, I’ll quit. I’ll clock out on time and go straight home."

"Sigh... Fine, fine. I was wrong. Let’s just go. Go on."

Honestly, who was the master here?

To think that the headmaster was completely at the mercy of a mage’s threats.

If we’re talking about efficiency, it’d be nice if we could recharge Mana even without a mage...

Bernard grumbled inwardly.

Yeah... How nice would it be if all it took was filling it with Mana before it could move?

Using a few gears and levers...

If all someone had to do afterward was operate it, nothing could be better.

Thinking that, Bernard sketched his idea into a notebook.

The carriage, which had been moving smoothly without a shake, suddenly came to a halt.

"What is it?"

"It seems someone is blocking the road. Judging by their appearance, they seem to be bandits."

Bandit groups demanding tolls at roadblocks existed no matter where one went.

"Shall I deal with them? It’s not like I have anything better to do."

The mage grinned while making a throat-slitting gesture.

"Let’s avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Just give them a little money."

"Why should we give them money?"

"Aren’t they just trying to make a living? Give them a reasonable amount and send them away."

"That’s exactly why people always look down on you..."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I’ll be right back."

The mage grabbed a handful of silver coins and stepped out of the carriage.

Headmaster Bernard watched with an irritated expression.

Keeping his distance, the mage tossed the silver coins onto the ground and gestured for them to take the money and let them pass.

At that moment, a sharp flash erupted from the mage’s torso.

"Huh?"

Then, following a single diagonal streak of light, the mage’s upper body slid to the ground.

Standing where the upper body had once been was a grinning beggar.

And a sword.

"W-Wh... What is this?!"

The headmaster cried out in horror.

Instead of reacting in disgrace, the mage sitting in the driver’s seat immediately prepared a spell.

This was the moment to show why he was paid fifty goldens a day as an escort.

But before he could,

Something flew toward him at terrifying speed.

Crash!

A dagger pierced through the window and straight through his throat.

"Urgh... Ghk...!"

The mage’s incantation failed.

The Magic Circle he had begun drawing scattered into the air and vanished.

In an instant, two Fourth Circle mages had been eliminated.

Frozen in place, the headmaster watched as the beggar approached.

Deep down, he instinctively realized it.

Even if he tried to run, he would simply die faster.

The man who had effortlessly killed two Fourth Circle mages opened the carriage door.

Then he sat down across from him.

With a sinister smile, he spoke.

"A pleasure to meet you, Headmaster of Escolleia."

"W-Who are you?"

"Who I am doesn’t matter. Let’s talk about you instead."

The man continued speaking without waiting for permission.

Still frozen, Bernard could only nod.

"You’re the one who proposed during this Grand Ducal Council that there were signs of the Black Dragon Godwin’s resurrection, aren’t you?"

"I am... but...?"

"What were you thinking when you did that?"

"I did it... for the safety of the continent..."

"Even knowing it might put you in danger?"

"I may have been wrong. But even so... I felt it had to be said..."

"Ah."

The mysterious man cut Bernard off and pressed a blade against his neck.

"Let’s not waste time with meaningless conversation. The longer you stall, the more painful it’ll be for you."

Blood from the two slain mages dripped steadily from the dagger.

Bernard swallowed hard, desperately suppressing his trembling.

"So, weren’t you planning to unveil a device that predicts the appearance of the Demon Race?"

"H-How do you know about that...?"

"I have ears everywhere."

The man grinned.

The only people who knew that secret were a handful of trusted scholars, his secretary...

And Ferda Valdrova.

"Ferda Valdrova!"

Bernard suddenly shouted as realization struck him.

"You... were you sent by Regent Ferda?"

"Who knows? Does it look like he sent me?"

"Damn it! I should’ve known the moment that brat looked at me with those eyes!"

Bernard shouted furiously.

Instead of answering, the man merely chuckled.

"Our headmaster is cuter than I expected. This might be more fun than I thought."

"What do you mean by that?"

"What else?"

He pulled out a syringe.

"Something like this."

The enormous needle itself looked like a weapon.

But what terrified Bernard more was the black, tar-like liquid inside.

"W-What exactly is in that thing?"

"A vaccine."

"A vaccine?"

"That’s right. A vaccine. Medicine that will wipe out every germ infecting this world."

The man placed his thumb on the plunger.

Then he injected it.

Not into Bernard—

Into himself.

"Ugh...!"

The man groaned in agony.

Yet he was not dying.

It was mutation—

No, evolution.

Something resembling the tar he had injected oozed from beneath his skin like greasy oil, covering his entire body.

As the transformation completed, his entire form gradually turned black.

He no longer resembled a human, but rather a mannequin made of a soft material—

A brand-new cocoon.

Then two crimson eyes tore through the black shell, shining brilliantly.

As his mouth opened, rows of sharp beast-like fangs were revealed.

"N-No way..."

Putting all the pieces together, a single word flashed through Bernard’s mind.

"A member of the Demon Race...!"

The man had become one of the Demon Race.

"Hahaha! At last... At last, His blessing flows through my body as well!"

The man caressed his own face in ecstasy.

Like someone who had finally fulfilled his lifelong wish, he basked in overwhelming pleasure before turning his gaze back to Bernard.

Bernard instinctively sensed death approaching.

Desperate to survive somehow, he asked,

"How could a man of your skill... become a follower of the Demon Race?"

Followers of the Demon Race were people with nothing left to lose.

They were even more fanatical than Demon Followers.

"I, too, was once a knight who understood honor."

The man laughed bitterly.

"But no matter how much honor you uphold, everything crumbles in an instant when the king you serve is manipulated by the silver tongue of a deceitful coward."

He was a fallen knight.

"So now that I have nothing left to lose... I’ll destroy everything."

"If you become one of the Demon Race... you won’t be able to live normally anywhere—not in human society, nor anywhere on the Cerdes Continent... You’ll become a lost soul that can neither enter Heaven nor Hell. Knowing that... why...?"

"That’s just your opinion."

The man drew his dagger across Bernard’s arm.

The wound wasn’t deep, but blood streamed freely.

Then the man pressed his hand against the wound.

For a moment, Bernard thought he was hurting him only to heal him.

But what happened next far surpassed that.

"Mother... Marun..."

The man’s pitch-black body gradually returned to a flesh-colored tone.

It wasn’t merely his skin changing.

Some parts of his body lengthened.

Others shrank.

In the end, he transformed into an appearance Bernard knew all too well.

It was Bernard himself.

"Well, Headmaster? Do I look enough like you?"

The fake Bernard smiled.

A smile filled with malice that the real Bernard had never worn in his life.

"What are you planning to do with my research?"

"As expected of a headmaster. Your mind works quickly."

The man tapped his own head lightly with the dagger.

"Don’t you already know? If you’re creating a device that predicts the appearance of monsters, then naturally there’s only one thing the Demon Race should do."

Destroy the research.

Erase the prediction device from existence.

"I-I won’t let you!"

At the thought of losing the research he had devoted his entire life to, Bernard finally found the courage to resist.

But the other Bernard moved with astonishing agility and grabbed him by the throat.

Slowly—

Powerfully—

He tightened his grip.

"Ghk... Ghhhk...!"

"Rest peacefully. I shall follow you into the World of Emptiness someday."

Just as he was about to kill the real Bernard—

"We’re under attack!"

A shout from one of the men standing guard outside pierced through the carriage.

The disguised Bernard turned his head.

Outside, a battle had already broken out.

Unknown attackers were clashing with the Demon Race followers disguised as beggars.

More than twenty men were being completely overwhelmed—

By only two people.

One with brown hair.

One with blond hair.

Caught completely off guard by the ambush, the man loosened his grip on Bernard’s throat and asked,

"You... since when did you hire escorts?"

"Cough... Cough... W-What escorts...?"

Bernard replied with a bewildered expression.

Before the man could hear any more, the Demon Race followers had already been wiped out.

Those disguised as mountain bandits had been nothing more than expendable lackeys.

The two newcomers, however, were exceptionally skilled knights.

"This is troublesome."

The man genuinely frowned.

If his opponents had been two mages, he could have killed them before they finished their incantations.

But facing two knights of that caliber at the same time...

That was another matter entirely.

The man decided to rely on his wits.

His plan was simple—

A diversion.

"Everyone! Be careful!"

He kicked the carriage door open and ran out in apparent desperation.

"Inside! There’s someone in there who looks exactly like me! He’s trying to kill me!"

The man ran as though terrified.

Meanwhile, he concealed a reverse-gripped dagger tightly along his forearm.

The moment he entered striking distance, he prepared to launch a surprise attack with the hidden dagger.

"Hurry! Kill the one over th—Ghk...!"

He didn’t get far before collapsing to the ground.

A dagger had embedded itself in his ankle.

It was identical to the one held by the brown-haired man.

"Aaargh!! What are you doing?!"

No one answered.

Instead, the brown-haired man rushed forward and delivered a powerful kick to Bernard’s head.

Thud!

A sickening crack echoed, as if bones had shattered.

Bernard’s body went limp.

The blond-haired man widened his eyes and shouted,

"Sir Zed! What are you doing to the Headmaster?!"

The man called Zed jerked his chin toward the fallen Bernard.

"That’s not the Headmaster."

"What are you talking about?! He isn’t even disguised with magic! If you kick him that hard, he’ll definitely be dea—... Huh?"

His frantic protest came to an abrupt halt when he saw Bernard climbing out of the carriage moments later.

"W-Why are there two Headmasters...?"

"Ha. You’re such an innocent country bumpkin. Work on your observation skills. Tie that man up securely first. I’ll go bring over the real one."

"Ah... Understood."

Arwen restrained the fake Bernard, while Zed helped the real Bernard out of the carriage and supported him.

"Are you all right?"

"Y-Yes... I think so. Are you... Regent Valdrova’s...?"

"My apologies for the late introduction. I am Zed Swallow, a knight sworn to the Grand Duchess Valdrova. The innocent fellow here is Sir Arwen. By the Regent’s orders, we have been secretly watching over and protecting you."

"Subordinates of the Regent...? The very person who stabbed me in the back is now helping me?"

"...Pardon? I’m not sure what misunderstanding you have, but for now, please come with us to where the Regent is."

Having nearly lost his life, Bernard’s head was still spinning.

But he had no choice.

The mage who had been driving the carriage was dead, so it could no longer move.

The road ahead was long, and traveling alone was far too dangerous.

Bernard let out a resigned sigh.

"...Very well. I’ll go with you."

"Then let’s stop the bleeding first."

Zed quickly treated Bernard’s wounds, while Arwen tied up the other Bernard and hoisted him onto a horse.

Leaving the scene behind, they departed.

Even while riding, a question continued to linger in Arwen’s mind.

"Sir Zed."

"What?"

"How did you know?"

Because Zed had attacked without hesitation, he had caught the impostor completely off guard.

But Arwen couldn’t understand why he had been so certain.

Zed chuckled.

"He didn’t have the shine."

"...Excuse me? The shine?"

"That fake couldn’t imitate the Headmaster’s nice, shiny bald head."

"..."

Arwen’s eyes slowly drifted past Zed’s back.

There, under the moonlight, Bernard’s bald head gleamed faintly.

"...Ah."

It was utterly absurd.

Yet he found himself completely speechless.

***

After riding through the entire night, they arrived at a place where a single carriage was waiting.

It belonged to Regent Valdrova.

His tent had also been set up nearby.

A young silver-haired maid welcomed them.

"This way."

She lifted the tent flap slightly, and Bernard stepped inside.

Unlike the cold, unforgiving wilderness outside, a pleasant warmth embraced his skin.

Though the tent looked ordinary from the outside, the interior was many times larger.

It was so cozy and beautifully furnished that it was hard to believe he was inside a tent at all.

A Spatial Storage Tent... Isn’t that an incredible treasure?

Even a single Spatial Storage Pocket, crafted using fairy dust as a catalyst, was considered priceless.

A tent of this caliber was on an entirely different level.

Only an emperor of an imperial nation—

Or a dragon—

Could possess such a treasure.

Once again, Bernard was reminded that Ferda was the mate of a dragon.

"Welcome."

A young man with gray hair and blue eyes greeted him.

It was Ferda.