My Slain Dragon Bride

Chapter 89: Chapter 89

Chapter 89 - The Past

"Stephan."

There was emotion in Merchit’s voice.

But it lasted only for a moment.

"I understand you’re in a difficult situation, little brother. Later, once you’ve calmed down, you should apologize for treating me like a murderer."

He spoke as if gently trying to reason with him, but to Stephan it felt no different than being treated like a child.

"Don’t make me laugh. Are you... are you saying I’m barking up the wrong tree right now?"

"Do you truly believe your older brother is behind this?"

"I already have proof. Look at this!"

Stephan pulled out the scarf he had been clutching.

The emblem of the Pascal Mercenary Company caught Merchit’s eye.

"I already know your methods! That filthy trick of yours—creating demand by making people desperate! Ever since I said I was going to monopolize that trade route, this happened."

"You’re actually believing the nonsense those merchant bastards are spouting?"

"It’s not just one person. Every single person who made a contract with you says the same thing. How could I not suspect you?!"

Merchit fell into thought after hearing those words.

"Well... perhaps those people really were victims of something I did."

For a moment, he sounded as though he were admitting it.

Then he tilted his head.

"But where’s the proof that I interfered in your affairs?"

"Isn’t it right here?"

"You mean this precious scarf? Anyone can make something like this."

He casually flicked the scarf before tossing it onto the table.

"Our company has over ten thousand registered mercenaries, and more than two thousand of these scarves in stock. Anyone could steal one and make it look as though our mercenary company was responsible. You’re smarter than me—didn’t that possibility even occur to you?"

"Would you dare say the same thing in an Imperial court?!"

"You want to take this to court? So you’re really trying to wage an all-out war? Damn... you really are furious. Dragging your own family into court."

"Stop hiding behind that ’family’ nonsense. You only bring up family when you’re the one in trouble. When it’s time to profit, we’re complete strangers, aren’t we?!"

"So you’re saying I only ever filled my own pockets? Hey, Stephan. Haven’t I helped you plenty whenever you’ve been in trouble? I gave you favors, I helped you whenever I could, so what the hell is your problem?"

"Haven’t I been telling you from the beginning? The problem is that those thugs under your command murdered my employees!"

"This little punk keeps calling my men third-rate trash—"

"Merchit Pascal."

The veins bulged across Merchit’s neck as he was about to stand.

The moment Ferda called his name, he realized Ferda had been watching the entire exchange and immediately lowered his head.

"My apologies, Regent. I have shown you an unpleasant side of our family affairs."

"That doesn’t concern me. However, would you mind pausing this discussion and stepping outside for a moment? There is something I wish to discuss with Stephan."

"Of course."

"I shall excuse myself for now."

Merchit bowed obediently before leaving.

As soon as he was gone, Stephan pointed angrily at the spot where he had been sitting and shouted,

"There’s nothing more to see. He’s the one who did it."

His face was burning red with rage.

"Stephan."

"We should arrest him right now and interrogate him! Ask him whether killing thirty-three people made him feel satisfied!"

"I intended to do exactly that."

"But after seeing your current state, I decided otherwise."

"My state? What’s wrong with me?"

Ferda swept a cold gaze over him before answering,

"You are no different from a ghost consumed by blood and revenge."

"Revenge. Isn’t that exactly what I’m pursuing right now?"

"The problem is that it’s revenge directed at the wrong target. The revenge you’re seeking now is dragging old grudges from your past into the present."

"I..."

He wanted to deny it.

But Ferda’s words forced him to become a little calmer.

"I think... you’re right."

"To be honest, my older brother tormented me a lot when we were children."

"Tell me."

"Whenever I came home after getting into a fight, he’d say he didn’t like my spirit, pick up a wooden sword, claim he was ’training’ me, and beat me half to death."

Ferda could understand, at least a little, how that felt.

After his mother died, Ferda had been treated as nothing more than a bastard and had suffered similar abuse countless times.

"And then I..."

"No."

"Let’s stop talking about this."

"No."

"Continue."

Ferda stopped him before he could bury his feelings again.

"I want you to vent every bit of anger you still carry toward Merchit."

"...What?"

"Why would I do something like that?"

"Because it will help."

"I don’t think it’ll help at all..."

"Then consider it an order."

"Hurry up."

"Curse him."

"Shout everything you’ve been holding back."

Stephan was completely taken aback by the request.

Yet, having no choice, he forced the name from his lips.

"Merchit..."

"You..."

"You... son..."

"...Of a..."

"...Bitch..."

It started awkwardly.

But that didn’t matter.

"You..."

Like a dam bursting open, his bottled-up emotions instantly exploded.

"You filthy bastard!!"

Stephan completely lost himself as he began screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Damn you, you worthless bastard! You wished for my downfall, and then you pull something like this?! Did I really look that easy to you?! Huh?!"

"..."

"I’ll make you suffer the same way! Just like you shattered my bones when we were children, I’ll smash every bone in your body too!"

Even after that, he continued screaming out every grudge he had accumulated throughout his life.

About ten minutes later, his voice finally gave out.

"Cough! Hack!"

"Have a drink."

"Cough... cough... Thank you..."

Stephan sat down and drank the tea.

His body sagged as though every ounce of strength had left him.

"Do you feel any better?"

"Yes."

"Thanks to you, Regent... I think I’ve escaped getting sick from bottled-up rage."

"Good."

"Then your eyes should be clearer now."

"Let’s continue."

Stephan straightened himself.

Ferda looked at him and said,

"To get straight to the point, I don’t believe Merchit Pascal is responsible."

"...What?"

Just moments ago, Ferda himself had been waving the mercenary company’s scarf around as though Merchit were the obvious culprit.

And now he was saying the opposite?

"Then why did you make me curse my brother?"

"Because I wanted you to stop being controlled by the resentment you’ve been carrying."

"You kept filling your mind with emotions that clouded your judgment."

Stephan found the explanation unbelievable.

Yet at the same time, he knew Ferda was right.

Had he ever screamed until his lungs gave out before?

As a child, he would simply cry silently with his fist stuffed into his mouth.

As an adult, all he ever did was hide in a corner of his office, drink alone, and quietly weep.

This was the first time he had truly let everything out.

"You said making a contract with the Pascal Mercenary Company was no different from making a contract with a demon, didn’t you?"

"Yes."

"You already knew that long before this happened, didn’t you?"

"I did."

"Then from the very beginning, you should have suspected your brother, Merchit Pascal."

"But you never once expressed that suspicion to me."

Ferda calmly asked,

"Why not?"

"Because... at the time, my mind was in complete chaos..."

"Is that really all?"

"You simply never thought about it?"

Faced with the question, Stephan slowly shook his head.

That couldn’t be the only reason.

He thought carefully.

Why hadn’t Merchit been the very first person he suspected?

Merchit Pascal.

Family.

And enemy.

Since childhood, Merchit had never been able to control his overflowing fighting spirit.

He embraced that nature and eventually became a mercenary captain.

He possessed charisma.

He possessed leadership.

And true leadership meant understanding responsibilities that ordinary street thugs could never comprehend.

Like one merchant objectively evaluating another business owner, Stephan analyzed every aspect of Merchit based solely on facts.

The conclusion was surprisingly clear.

"...The possibility was low."

"Why?"

"If someone refused to sign a contract with my brother, the idea that he’d retaliate against them was honestly little more than a superstition."

"Most of those people simply dug their own graves."

"In reality, most of them hired cheap mercenaries, entered dangerous regions, and suffered the consequences."

"They bought garbage-quality goods and then blamed someone else for it."

People only see what they want to see.

They only believe what they want to believe.

Blinded by emotion, Stephan had overlooked even such a basic truth.

"So... a single scarf..."

"...Isn’t enough to make that suspicion certain."

Even after reaching that conclusion himself, Stephan could hardly believe it.

Only minutes earlier, he had been convinced beyond doubt that Merchit was guilty and had sworn to take brutal revenge.

He had judged with emotion instead of reason.

And that emotion had blinded him.

Had Ferda not forced him to cast those feelings aside, he and Merchit would already have come to blows.

As Stephan swallowed his lingering emptiness, Ferda turned to Luri and said,

"Please invite Merchit Pascal back inside."

Merchit, who had been waiting outside, returned to his seat.

The three of them now faced each other once more.

Unlike before, when emotions had threatened to explode, the room was now filled with calm.

"Merchit Pascal."

"I’ve finished speaking with Stephan."

"But I want you to answer one final question."

"Go ahead, Regent."

"Can you swear that you had absolutely nothing to do with the attack on Stephan?"

Ferda’s voice was so cold that even he himself felt a chill run down his spine.

Merchit raised his index finger.

"I have one principle."

"My family is precious to me, just as other people’s families are precious to them."

"My employees and I are paid to draw our swords in order to protect others."

"If we took money to draw our swords against innocent people, we’d be nothing more than third-rate thugs and bandits."

"I see."

"Thank you."

After hearing his answer, Ferda gestured toward the scarf lying on the table.

"If this scarf has nothing to do with the mercenary company, then someone deliberately tried to drive a wedge between you two."

"Between my younger brother and me?"

Merchit’s eyes widened.

His face showed unmistakable, genuine fury.

"What bastard would dare target my family?"

"I think I know who it is."

The now-composed Stephan answered.

"Who?"

"My sister."

"Tilda."

Another member of the family.

Her name left his lips.

"On the surface, she acts as though the Dandolo Trading Company is enough for her."

"But more than anyone else, she’s always wanted the Pascal Trading Company."

"She’s been subtly interfering with us for years."

"And if my brother and I became enemies, she’d be the only one to benefit."

"Yeah."

"If it’s that bitch, then this is exactly the kind of thing she’d do."

Even Merchit, who cared deeply about family, immediately agreed despite the fact that she was his own sister.

It was a strange sight.

"Isn’t Tilda Pascal your family as well?"

"Don’t even say that."

"She’s not worthy of being called family."

Suppressing his boiling rage, Merchit answered calmly.

"When my wife was pregnant with our first child, do you know what she tried to do?"

"She sent poisoned gifts under the excuse of congratulating her pregnancy."

"Fortunately, I unknowingly ate them myself and ended up suffering instead."

"If my wife had eaten them, she would have miscarried without a doubt."

"I always found my little sister irritating."

"There wasn’t a single lovable thing about her."

"But that day, she truly crossed the line."

The one shocked by those words was Stephan.

"Something like that happened five years ago?"

"I wasn’t completely certain, so I never told anyone."

"There was no point causing a huge uproar."

"That would only have pleased her."

Stephan had always assumed Merchit would have rampaged around threatening to kill her.

Seeing this restrained side of him was completely unexpected.

"Anyway."

"She has no ability whatsoever."

"Only endless greed."

"Since she’s incapable of succeeding on her own, she seduced that lifelong bachelor, Henri Dandolo, seized control of the Dandolo Trading Company, and now she’s trying to swallow Father’s company as well."

Merchit’s enormous hand clenched into a fist.

The veins bulged grotesquely beneath his skin.

"So what shall we do, Regent?"

Merchit asked.

"My men can overturn her estate and drag that woman here right now."

"Wouldn’t that only damage the mercenary company’s reputation further?"

"There’s no need to worry."

"If throwing that witch onto the execution stake means justice is served, I don’t care if I have to become a devil myself."

"If she dared lay a hand on my family, then she deserves to pay the price."

His anger burned like an inferno.

As someone who had survived countless battlefields as a mercenary, he knew exactly how to wield rage as fuel.

"We must not resort to direct violence."

The one who spoke was Stephan.

"What?"

"Stephan, are you an idiot?"

"Think about it."

"Violence isn’t the answer."

"If she’s begun doing something this malicious, then it means her plan has already begun."

"In the worst-case scenario, the entire House Pascal could collapse."

"...That’s true."

Since both brothers knew exactly what kind of person Tilda was, it didn’t take much to persuade them.

"She’s patient."

"Exceptionally patient."

"Until we have undeniable proof that this was Tilda’s doing, we mustn’t touch her."

"Then what do you propose?"

Stephan forcibly calmed his racing heart before answering,

"For now, we leave without clearing up this misunderstanding."

"We’ll give our opponent exactly what she wants."

"If we do that, she’ll continue carrying out her plan as scheduled."

"So we’ll use that to catch her by the tail."

Merchit slapped his knee.

"Good."

"I’m in."

"Let’s drag that bitch into the light."

"Agreed."

The two brothers, who had nearly become mortal enemies, joined forces before a common foe.