My Slain Dragon Bride

Chapter 76: Chapter 76

Chapter 76 - Will It Make Money?

When Vernel arrived in Halim, he wandered the corridor with a stack of organized documents in his hands.

It was the hallway leading to the lodging.

He knew exactly where his room was, and he certainly wasn’t lost.

Yet he lingered there as though he were waiting for something.

"Vernel."

A deep, weighty voice.

Then a gleaming bald head emerged from between the shrubs.

It was the same head that had once brought smiles to countless people, earning its owner the nickname Sunlight Mage.

The memory should have made Vernel smile.

But he couldn’t.

"G-Greetings! Headmaster, it’s been a long time since the Academy."

"Indeed. It has been a while."

"I heard you gave me the main presentation slot. I truly appreciate your kindness—"

"What’s that?"

Cutting Vernel off, he looked at the documents in his hand.

"This is what I’ll be presenting at this conference. I’ve polished it as much as I could, but it still isn’t easy, so I was hoping you could review it."

"You want me to?"

"Yes."

"...Hand it over."

Headmaster Bernard quickly skimmed through the manuscript.

Under his serious gaze, Vernel’s mouth went dry.

At last, Bernard smiled.

Is that... good news?

It wasn’t.

The smile that escaped his lips was one of ridicule.

"Pathetic."

"I must say, Vernel Marquis, you’ve greatly disappointed me."

"W-What do you mean?"

Maintaining his composure, Vernel asked politely.

"What do you intend to do when the efficiency is only twelve percent?"

"I’m steadily increasing the efficiency."

"And you expect to stand before everyone, claim it has great potential, and become the laughingstock of the conference? Do you intend to disgrace Grand Duchess Valdrova, who was one of the few people willing to believe in you?"

Vernel stared blankly at Bernard’s face.

This wasn’t merely an adaptation of existing technology.

It was an entirely new creation.

Even twelve percent was an astonishing achievement.

Bernard continued.

"So, is there even a single person who understands the formulas you’ve come up with? Even I find this chaotic. You’ve managed to discover the equations, but the pace at which you’re improving the efficiency is painfully slow. If I understood these formulas, I’d have increased the efficiency far faster than you. Do you know why I’m so confident?"

"..."

"Vernel, your vision is far too narrow. Once you become obsessed with one thing, you stop seeing everything else. You’re so fixated on improving that last one percent that you’ve become blind to the methods that could improve it by ten."

Bernard shoved the presentation manuscript against Vernel’s chest.

"I’m disappointed. Deeply disappointed. I almost preferred it when you chased impossible dreams. Right now, you’re the very definition of an Utter Disaster."

Turning his back, Bernard walked away.

Vernel couldn’t say a single word.

He simply stared at the floor.

For a long while, he remained rooted to the spot.

***

Ferda watched everything unfold.

From the moment Bernard humiliated Vernel and crushed his spirit until he finally walked away.

Then he thought,

Have I misunderstood Headmaster Bernard all this time?

Bernard had created an opportunity for Vernel.

Giving him the main presentation slot was said to be an enormous honor among scholars.

Ferda had believed it was an act of goodwill.

But it wasn’t.

Bernard was a petty man who refused to acknowledge Vernel.

The higher someone’s position, the more painful the fall.

Does that mean... Bernard intends to destroy Vernel?

If that’s the case...

What should I do here?

"Oh! Your Highness the Regent! Fancy meeting you here."

The cheerful voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Moments ago, while secretly watching Vernel, Bernard had worn the face of a third-rate villain.

Now he looked courteous and perfectly respectable.

"I was just about to tell you that a merchant named Stephan Pascal came to ask how the main event would be organized—"

"Do you truly believe he’s a fool?"

"...Pardon?"

When Ferda interrupted him with the question, Bernard looked completely puzzled.

Ferda answered bluntly.

"I unintentionally overheard your conversation."

Only then did Bernard understand, his face flushing red.

"...I suppose you witnessed something rather difficult to watch."

Indeed.

It had been difficult to watch.

Ferda had just witnessed the ugly duality of human nature.

"Whatever it may have looked like, I wasn’t trying to harm Vernel."

Those words caught Ferda completely off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"Well... Vernel Marquis was once the prodigy our senior scholars placed all their hopes in. Even during his Academy days, he always ranked first. Everyone agreed that his brilliant mind would overturn the entire century."

Yet everyone also knew his story hadn’t ended well.

Bernard let out a sigh.

"But the moment he brought us the contents of his conference presentation, everyone was stunned. It was filled with absurd ideas. We tried to stop him and steer him in a better direction, but he wouldn’t listen. Do you know what happens to nine out of ten people like that?"

"They become obsessed with their ideals and go mad."

"But he didn’t go mad."

"No.

He succeeded."

"And you still think you can convince me?"

If Vernel had merely been chasing an impossible dream, Ferda would have understood.

No—in fact, he himself would have approached Vernel with the same cold cynicism.

But Vernel had actually succeeded.

Results that should have taken years had appeared in only a few months.

And the efficiency was still improving.

"That’s precisely why I’m doing this."

"You mean to tell me that even though you know he was right, the head of all scholars refuses to acknowledge him?"

"For people like Vernel... that’s exactly what’s necessary."

"What kind of person is he?"

"The kind who presents innovations the rest of us dismissed as impossible. People like him must never be confined by the limits of ordinary men like myself. He shouldn’t conduct research to persuade others. He should simply continue following what he believes."

Ferda understood.

Bernard was a genius.

But Vernel was a genius among geniuses.

To someone like Vernel, Bernard’s standards were no different from those of ordinary people.

"Vernel will prove me wrong through his own ability, no matter what. If he really succeeded at something so absurd, then he has to go even further. After that, he’ll come back prepared to land a decisive blow against me."

This was Bernard’s whip.

A way to awaken the competitive spirit hidden deep within Vernel.

"And what if he ends up taking the wrong path?"

Just as I once did.

Ferda swallowed those words.

"Vernel would never choose the coward’s path. He always insists on facing things head-on. After all, he’s a scholar pursuing absolute truth."

Bernard bowed politely.

"But if you ever think he’s strayed down the wrong road, please tell him that I’m nothing more than a narrow-minded man who lacks the courage to acknowledge him to his face. Now then, I should go make my preparations."

Bernard walked past Ferda.

Ferda simply let him go.

Whether he beat Bernard senseless or scolded him, what would it accomplish?

Still... I am curious.

He found himself wondering what kind of person Bernard believed Vernel to be.

Would Vernel despair because he hadn’t been acknowledged?

Or would he, just as Bernard predicted, be reborn anew?

Pretending to know nothing, Ferda headed toward Vernel’s room.

The shock must still have lingered.

The door hadn’t even been fully closed, allowing him to quietly step inside.

Vernel sat alone at the table.

His shoulders trembled.

His breathing was uneven.

"Yeah... damn it...Then I’ll just raise the efficiency myself!"

Tears streamed down his face.

Yet neither his hands nor his mind stopped moving.

He was already correcting every flaw Bernard had pointed out.

"Realistic? Fine. Within a month, I’ll push it to twenty percent. Just wait. Every last one of those people who laughed at me...Every single one of them will have no choice but to acknowledge me. Damn it..."

The desire for revenge was unmistakable in every word he spoke.

It had become his Driving Force as his mind raced forward.

That was what revenge did.

It made one forget exhaustion.

It granted the concentration to devote oneself completely to a single goal.

The only difference between him and me...was that, just as Bernard had predicted, Vernel had chosen the right path.

Quietly, Ferda closed the door and walked away.

***

"Take that thing down. It looked better in the blueprint. Be careful with those items!"

Stephan directed the workers while studying the interior layout.

"Boss, we’ve brought the merchandise. Where should we display it?"

"Good work. Hang it on that wall over there! You’ve got the hooks, right?"

"Yes."

"Check one more time that they’re secure. Those are important! My head could roll if anything happens!"

The displayed items were Mana Stones and weapons powered by them.

To showcase the project’s future potential, they had also prepared conceptual designs of their future plans.

The centerpiece was a long pipe connected to a maze of wires and hanging glass bottles.

They called it the Magitech Rifle.

That’s supposed to be a weapon?

The researchers had claimed it possessed remarkable performance.

Yet Stephan had never once seen it demonstrated.

Will that thing even work?

"Oh my, Brother? Fancy meeting you here."

A familiar voice reached Stephan’s ears.

An unexpected visitor...

Though, in truth, she wasn’t unexpected at all.

Since every merchant family was attending the exhibition, there was no way the Pascal family would stay away.

Even knowing that, Tilda’s presence always made Stephan uncomfortable.

He simply couldn’t deal with her.

"Did you come alone?"

"Of course not. I came with my fiancé. There he is. Henri?"

A man walked over with a bright smile.

He was a chubby man in his mid-thirties.

Henri Dandolo.

The heir to Dandolo, one of the Empire’s largest merchant companies.

"Tilda, my love. I brought the cocktail you wanted."

The plump man grinned as he handed her a glass.

The petite, slender beauty with black hair stared at it.

Pouting, she moistened her eyes ever so slightly.

"This is Cherry Bomb."

"H-Huh?"

"I wanted a Blue Sapphire..."

She gently swayed her shoulders while blinking innocently.

Seeing that expression, Henri Dandolo smiled awkwardly and nodded.

"Ah, sorry. I’ll go get another one!"

"Thank you. You’re the best."

"Brother-in-law! We’ll greet each other later!"

"Uh... yes. Of course..."

Tilda smiled.

Completely captivated by that smile, Henri hurried off to fetch another cocktail.

Watching him leave, Stephan frowned.

"Why are you making your fiancé run errands instead of having the servants do it?"

"Why else? Because I can’t stand the sight of him."

Tilda gave him a sly smile.

She always wore a mask of elegance in front of others.

But never around Stephan.

That alone showed how little she thought of him.

"Does he know how ugly you really are?"

"As if. The man hasn’t even managed to take off my underwear. How could someone like him possibly see through me?"

"I bet he’d love hearing this conversation."

"If you’ve got the guts, then go ahead and tell him."

It was always like this.

She always acted as though she stood above every man, manipulating everyone around her.

She had been like that since childhood.

If someone displeased her, she would set a trap to ruin them or leave them with scars that would never heal.

At first, her schemes had been no more than childish pranks.

But as she grew older, they became increasingly meticulous and calculated.

Stephan was afraid of Tilda.

He had seen the monster hidden behind that smiling face, yet he still couldn’t grasp what kind of monster she truly was.

"So this is the product you’re sponsoring from the Far Eastern Region?"

Covering her mouth with a folding fan, she looked up at the Magitech Rifle.

"That’s right."

"How adorable. I can’t believe you actually brought something like this."

"Hmm."

She let out a quiet breath, pretending to examine it carefully before suddenly turning her head away.

"To me, it looks more like a piece of art."

The question beneath her words was obvious.

Can it actually be used?

"Of course it can."

"How does it work?"

"Well... you pull this part like this, then you do... this and that... and it’ll work on its own."

The more his explanation trailed off, the wider Tilda’s smile became.

"So you’ve never actually seen it operate."

"..."

"Well, it is an exhibition. Even unfinished products can be displayed, and nobody would know. Although..."

She innocently rested a finger against her chin.

"Come to think of it, isn’t there also going to be a presentation?"

Her eyes said she already knew everything.

If she knew about the Mana Stones, then of course she also knew about the main presentation.

"So why bring something that’s never even been tested? If it explodes halfway through, won’t you just end up humiliating yourself?"

"Perhaps."

"It’s perfect as a display piece, but... hmm... I wonder if this can really make money. Just as Father said, the Eastern Region seems rather useless..."

A crescent-shaped smile spread across her lips.

That expression.

It was the very same expression she had worn countless times while crushing him back at the Pascal household.

"Don’t worry, little sister."

But today was different.

Unlike before, Stephan was full of confidence.

"While you’ve been busy clinging to a man’s crotch, I’ve been standing with my sponsor’s hand on my shoulder."

It was an undeniably crude provocation.

But it worked perfectly.

Tilda glared at him venomously.

Her trembling hand and furious expression practically screamed,

Who do you think you are, Stephan, talking back to me?

Normally, Stephan’s courage would have failed him.

But not today.

He had the backing of someone more dependable than anyone else.

Damn... she’s still terrifying.

The memories of her beating him mercilessly as a child, never caring about the consequences, made cold sweat trickle down his back.

"Would you move aside?"

A voice came from behind her.

The vicious expression on Tilda’s face vanished in an instant as she turned around.

The man standing there was tall, with gray hair and blue eyes.

He wore a formal black uniform accented with crimson.

Though still young, he carried an aura utterly beyond his years.

So this is Ferda Valdrova.

His cold expression perfectly suited the title he had earned after killing Teshalos Wolcher—the ruthless murderer.

The complicated look in his eyes was enough to capture Tilda’s interest.

She smiled sweetly and greeted him with graceful elegance.

"Greetings, Your Highness the Regent Valdrova. I am Tilda Pascal—"

"I have no interest in who you are. Move aside."

"...Pardon?"

He cut her greeting off without hesitation.

His words were unbelievably rude.

Yet Tilda couldn’t even bring herself to feel angry.

The icy blue eyes fixed upon her were so cold that they seemed capable of freezing the blood in her veins.

"You really don’t understand, do you?"

"I told you to get out of my way."