I Married the Dragon I Killed

“Were you trying to give Baron Wolcher’s territory to that man?”

The one who asked the question was Ruri.

Perda had returned to the castle after coming back from town hall.

“Yes.”

“And what did he say?”

“That he would think about it.”

And with that, the conversation ended.

He was a free spirit, so they could not tie him down.

Perda did not try to persuade him any further.

“Doesn’t that mean he rejected it?”

“I don’t think so.”

A wandering knight who belonged nowhere.

Even before Perda made the offer, countless nobles had likely tried to offer him territories and knighthoods.

And every time, he had firmly refused.

Because if he spoke indirectly, the other party would interpret it however they wished.

If he had intended to reject Perda’s proposal, he would have simply said no.

The fact that he said he would think about it meant there was still a possibility of choice and a chance that he might eventually settle there.

Although it was contradictory that the very reason he might accept the title was because he did not trust him.

But Perda did not mind.

‘A person who is loyal to me…’

Someone capable of standing in his way when he was walking down the wrong path.

That was precisely the kind of loyalty he needed.

***

Alberdo left town hall and looked for a place to spend the night.

His armor was far too heavy, so staying at an inn with rooms on the second floor was impossible.

As if he were accustomed to it, he headed to a stable and settled there.

The temporary stables that had been expanded for the Beginning of Spring Festival were now nearly empty.

Thanks to that, Alberdo had a place to sleep.

Before the sun set, he began inspecting his equipment.

He could go a day without sleeping.

But he never went a single day without maintenance.

“…Hm?”

While inspecting his club, Alberdo frowned.

Countless demons had tried to kill him.

And many individuals proud of their strength had tried every possible method to destroy that weapon.

But all of them had ended up as bloody masses after failing.

It was only natural.

The weapon he used was made from Great Dragonstone, a legendary material said to be as durable as a dragon’s fangs.

In terms of hardness, almost nothing could break it.

And yet.

There was a mark he had never seen before.

A thick imprint.

And beside it, four smaller ones.

No matter how much he looked at them, they resembled finger marks.

“Hmm…”

As he stared at those marks, he remembered the Armored Knight who had stopped his attack.

When two forces collide and cancel each other out, the one with less strength receives the greater impact.

And when that blow was blocked, Alberdo understood.

That he could not defeat that knight through brute force alone.

That person stood at a level above even his own, despite the fact that he had personally slain countless colossal-class monsters.

“Hmm…”

But Alberdo was not someone who obsessed over such things.

In a world where one kills or is killed, the victor is the one who survives.

The loser is the one who dies.

He pushed those thoughts aside and continued maintaining his weapon.

***

A bright morning.

Alexander Arken, the Crown Prince of the Empire, was waiting for someone in front of the imperial gates.

“Are you certain he’ll arrive today?”

“Yes. He will definitely arrive before the day is over, so I ask that you wait just a little longer…”

His aide could barely contain his nerves.

And he had good reason.

The other aide had died the previous day.

The reason?

He had not arrived on time.

It was obvious that it had merely been a fit of anger.

But no one could point it out or protest.

Such was the position of the Crown Prince.

The thought that he himself could die in such a ridiculous manner made his throat tighten.

Fortunately, that did not happen.

A luxurious carriage accompanied by troops emerged from the forest and crossed the plain.

“They’ve arrived!”

The prince, who had been arrogantly muttering to himself until then, jumped to his feet.

It was a carriage of a size that, according to imperial law, only the Emperor should have been allowed to use.

Even Alexander, known for his reckless behavior, began to break into a cold sweat upon seeing it.

A man capable of making even the arrogant prince, who always looked down on others, tremble with fear.

The banner of that family drew closer and closer.

Until it stopped directly in front of Alexander.

An elderly man covered in age spots stepped down from the carriage.

It was Grand Duke Valdemar Golt.

“Thank you for coming personally, Grand Duke Golt.”

Unlike Alexander, who greeted him with a pleasant smile, Valdemar’s face showed no emotion whatsoever.

His eyes looked upon him as though he were a pathetic brat.

“I never thought I’d hear the word ‘thank you’ come out of your mouth.”

“You are one of the great pillars of the Arken Empire. How could I fail to show you the respect you deserve?”

“How curious. Because yesterday you were complaining about how annoying it was to have to bow your head before that damned bastard.”

“Ah, that… Impossible! How could I have said something like that?”

But he had said it.

The problem was figuring out who had leaked it.

Although, considering he had practically been shouting it to the four winds, it was hardly surprising that it had reached someone else’s ears.

“Anyway. Do you think I’m going to blink just because a brat like you insults me?”

His attitude was relaxed.

Alexander usually became furious whenever someone treated him with contempt.

But toward this man, he felt something much stronger.

Fear.

Valdemar Golt.

Also known as a member of Arken Emergency Response Headquarters.

And from this moment onward, that man would decide his fate.

Alexander bowed his head respectfully.

“I ask that you deliver a fair and rational judgment during the hearing.”

“A fair and rational judgment…?”

Instead of responding, Grand Duke Golt straightened his back and began walking.

Alexander followed him like a servant.

“And the carriage?”

“It’s prepared near the entrance. We can leave as soon as you board.”

“Good. Then let’s go.”

As he watched his back, Alexander cursed him silently.

‘You damned perverted old man…’

Alexander had known for a long time that Valdemar had set his sights on Stella, his sister.

When she began inheriting her mother’s beauty and developing a breathtaking figure, Valdemar sent countless gifts and requests to the Emperor seeking permission to marry her.

When Stella was finally engaged to another man, he did everything in his power to falsely accuse her fiancé of treason and send him to the gallows.

And after Stella’s death.

He simply changed targets.

Now he was pursuing Olivia.

Alexander knew perfectly well every act of corruption and every atrocity Valdemar had committed in his attempts to obtain the Imperial Princess.

And yet, he could not touch him.

“Brat.”

That was how Valdemar addressed Alexander.

Alexander felt a chill run down his spine at the thought that perhaps his mind had been read.

“What is it?”

“We will enter together during the entrance ceremony.”

Alexander’s eyes widened.

“W-With me?”

“Is there a problem?”

“No. None at all.”

Alexander knew perfectly well that Valdemar had hated him since he was a child.

That was why this was the first time the two of them had ever found themselves together in a situation like this.

Only now, when he was already approaching middle age, could Alexander walk beside Valdemar.

However, it did not take long for him to understand the reason.

Because the moment they entered, deafening cheers erupted.

“Grand Duke Golt!!”

“¡Oh, Altesio! Protect Grand Duke Golt!”

Those thunderous cries were all words of praise.

Some offered prayers to the gods.

Others glorified him in their own way.

Valdemar smiled and raised one hand.

And wherever his gaze fell, cheers erupted with such intensity that they seemed capable of tearing the souls from those who shouted them.

“Brat. Smile.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Y-Yes!”

Alexander realized he was being overwhelmed by the atmosphere and began smiling while waving his hand.

However, wherever he looked, the reaction toward him was lukewarm.

Even in a situation that would normally have been enough to make him frown, he kept smiling.

“Do you understand now?”

Valdemar suddenly asked.

But Alexander immediately understood what he meant.

Valdemar Golt, welcomed by everyone’s cheers.

Alexander, regarded with indifference.

It forced him to painfully understand his true place.

“If I were to pull out a dagger right now and stab you, what do you think would happen?”

“……”

“Of course, everyone would be horrified. They’d say I stabbed the Emperor’s son. But how long do you think that would last?”

It wouldn’t last long.

Every noble who had tried to expose this man, or who had actually done so, had failed and disappeared without a trace.

And it was inevitable.

Even if he was a lecherous old man obsessed with his sister.

He was still a war hero who had fought for the prosperity of the Empire.

His face.

His symbol.

His father.

He was the Empire’s last pillar.

An absolute power that could not be brought down.

That was Valdemar Golt.

“And you think someone like you is in a position to ask me for a fair and rational judgment?”

Only then did the Crown Prince understand what answer he needed to give.

“I beg you.”

Alexander continued smiling and waving.

“I, Alexander Arken, desperately need the mercy of the great Grand Duke…”

He kept his head held high.

But inwardly, he had already crawled to the ground.

Only then did Valdemar seem satisfied.

“What is it that you want?”

***

The Black Bandana residence had once been the hideout of illegal liquor manufacturers.

As befitted a clandestine refuge, from the outside it looked like a hunter’s den or territory occupied by savage beasts.

However, the farther one ventured inside, the more obvious it became that its size and complexity surpassed even those of many castles.

For that reason, the Black Bandana residence was commonly known as “the Anthill.”

In that place, the top executives scattered across the continent had gathered.

As soon as the Far East blockade was lifted, Black Bandana summoned all of its senior leadership.

The organization’s leader, Garnet Swallow, spoke.

“The Empire has entered a state of emergency.”

“That was to be expected. After a monster of that level appeared inside the Empire…”

“More important than the monster is the fact that an entire legion was annihilated.”

An unprecedented invasion.

And losses that were impossible to ignore.

It was not something that could simply be brushed aside.

Responsibility and blame had to be clearly determined.

And that meant one thing.

Information was life.

For Black Bandana, an organization specializing in secret intelligence, it was a matter that could not be ignored.

“In two weeks, the Post Mortem organized by Crisis Management Headquarters will begin.”

A meeting intended to analyze the origin of the incident, its development, and its consequences.

And where those responsible and their punishments would be decided.

“Isn’t it obvious how this will end? They’ll blame the Crown Prince.”

The primary person responsible for the legion’s destruction was Alexander Arken.

Even if he were singled out during the investigation, he would not be able to fly into a rage.

Because the members of the supreme committee possessed authority so great that not even the Crown Prince could oppose them.

“He’ll say a few words, and then they’ll cut off the tail of some subordinate to wrap up the matter.”

Even so, they all belonged to the same system.

They would exploit the Crown Prince’s weaknesses for profit and then let the matter pass.

It was a story that was far too predictable.

“If it were that simple, I wouldn’t have gathered you here.”

If everything followed that course.

“The problem is that it won’t follow that course. When they start looking for someone to blame, the finger won’t point at the subordinate operations officer. It will point elsewhere.”

“And where do you think that will be, Boss?”

Garnet answered.

“The Far East.”

The Far East.

A region that could now be summarized under a single name.

The Duchy of Valdrova.

“Among the Empire’s citizens, the opinion is currently spreading that the Far East may be the true culprit behind this disaster.”

“How strange. During the entire week following the destruction of the First Legion, nobody said anything.”

“Because the rumor was deliberately spread.”

Imperial intelligence had been active even before the extermination campaign ended.

They spread false information in taverns frequented by commoners, among church congregations, and among women gathered at washing sites.

In an information war, the first step is to seize the initiative.

“So the Imperial Army suffered such heavy losses because the Far East failed to respond?”

“How ungrateful. If it weren’t for the Empire’s protection, they would have died long ago.”

Those who did not know the truth had no choice but to believe such stories.

And those beliefs were becoming increasingly harmful to the Duchy.

“If public opinion continues moving in that direction, even the Regent won’t be able to do much.”

“It seems they’re desperately trying to seize the Far East’s assets.”

Just two years ago, the Far East had practically been nonexistent.

Many local lords had begged to be transferred elsewhere.

But those complaints had completely disappeared.

And the turning point had been the appearance of Perda Rosnova.

From then on, the territory’s development skyrocketed.

He managed to attract Pascal Company, the most powerful company in the Empire.

And also Dandolo Company, which ranked second.

Thanks to them, he captured nearly half of the economic flow of the Empire’s lower classes.

And not only that.

They also possessed unique technology based on magitech engineering.

The territory’s potential was impossible to measure.

All of that was enough to greatly boost the morale of the local lords.

And the recent siege had acted as hammer and anvil, tempering that strength even further.

The Far East was becoming a great power.

And that irritated the Empire.

“It seems difficult for the Regent to resolve all of this on his own. I suppose he’ll want to rely on us.”

“Ha! It’s been a while since we’ve made a good amount of money.”

The executives began joking about how much they could charge for the information.

But Garnet threw a bucket of cold water on them.

“We will not sell information.”

“What?”

“If we’re not going to sell information, then what exactly are we supposed to do?”

“Are you planning to just let the Far East sink, Boss?”

Garnet remained silent with a solemn expression.

Gradually, the others began to understand.

“Don’t tell me…?”

The atmosphere changed immediately.

“Are you proposing that we break the shell?”

Garnet answered.

“Yes.”

“Are you serious?”

“If we declare that stage, our position will become extremely dangerous.”

Everyone tried to dissuade her.

And Garnet had already expected that reaction.

That was why she had asked herself the same question over and over again.

Before this meeting.

Before she had even raised the matter.

Was it really the right thing to do?

Because if she made a mistake.

There would be no turning back.

It would not be only her own ruin.

It would be the ruin of everyone.

And “everyone” included even her ancestors, who had kept that secret organization alive for generations.

“I have reflected on it countless times and reached a conclusion.”

And yet, she always arrived at the same answer.

“To inherit my father’s will, and beyond that, the will of our ancestors, starting today we will begin breaking the shell.”

The die had been cast.