IMTDIK 81

Episode 81 – Common and Ordinary

Stefan looked as if someone had struck him hard on the back of the head.
“…What?”

Ferda repeated the words without hesitation.

“I said, you are useless.”

“W-What do you mean? Are you saying I’m useless…?”

“I had a private conversation with Ahmad Hashim. He proposed a partnership.”

Hearing that, Stefan immediately understood.

A partnership… That means a huge deal…

It wasn’t just a normal business collaboration. This was the largest city in the South—before it was even built—and Ferda had been offered an equal partnership. Unless the South had gone mad, the deal would favor Ferda completely.

“Did you accept it?” Stefan asked, his voice trembling.

“If I accept it, I won’t need to maintain my relationship with you.”

Betrayal filled Stefan’s chest. Of course. He had been hurt by Ferda’s words, had made aggressive investments, and now—

“We made a contract, didn’t we? I have exclusive rights to the magical engineering products. You even signed it! If I take this to court, you’ll be at a disadvantage.”

Ferda’s tone was calm.

“Sure. At most, I’d pay a small compensation. You’d be lucky if you even collect that much.”

“On what grounds do you say that?”

“Because you’re also failing to uphold the contract.”

Stefan flinched.
“When did I ever betray you? Are you talking about what I just explained?”

He reviewed his own actions. No clauses were being exploited. Nothing unfair. A fair merchant-lord relationship. If anything, the terms were in the lord’s favor.

Ferda spoke again.

“Do you remember what I said when I brought you in?”
“I said that as long as you cooperated, I would do the same. I promised to make you the owner of a trading company.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Stefan recalled the promise.

“Yes, that was the agreement. But there’s no need for that anymore. Pascal Trading Company is no longer necessary.”

“What is the value of Pascal Trading Company?”

“It’s one of the most influential businesses in the Empire. Half of all goods pass through it.”

“Yes, that kind of company.” Stefan nodded.

Ferda’s expression grew colder.

“And you just said, with your own mouth, that you’re giving it up.”“If it’s just a company like that, I can build another. We’re pioneers in magical engineering. As long as research continues—”

“Stefan.” Ferda cut him off.

“Yes, Regent?”

Ferda took three grapes from a fruit basket and placed them on the table.

“How many grapes are here?”
“Three.”
“Right. One is me, one is Vernel, and the last is you.”

He pointed to his grape.

“I promised to be your connection and have been building that network.”

Then Vernel’s grape.

“Vernel, through research and development, provides fresh new products. He finished a project today, and tomorrow he’ll work just as hard.”

Finally, Stefan’s grape. Ferda rolled it with his finger.

“You—you provide the money and supply. Each of us has a role. We need to keep the system moving.”

“That’s correct…”

“And yet, you’re about to give up the greatest company on the continent. Do you know what that means?”

Ferda pressed down on Stefan’s grape. Soft, crushed—red juice stained his fingers.

“It means you’re nothing more than a common, ordinary merchant. A merchant who gives up what he originally had is not needed in the Valdrova Dominion.”

Stefan stared at the grape. For a moment, he feared he would end up like it—crushed and discarded.

“Then… what should I do?”“I’m not asking for much. Just uphold the contract. Become the owner of Pascal Trading Company. That’s your task.”

Stefan felt dizzy. The crushing pressure reminded him of his father’s mansion. Now Ferda pressed down on him.

“Does it really have to come to bloodshed?”

To take over Pascal Trading Company, Stefan would face a battlefield. His older brother Merchit ran mercenaries. His younger sister Tilda expanded through strategic marriages. His father, Herman Pascal, still ruled them all. Persuade them, or defeat them. Fight against family—draw swords against his own blood. Stefan didn’t want that.

“Whether you fight or not isn’t for me to decide. I just want you to prove you’re the talent Valdrova needs.”

Despite some commotion, the exhibition ended successfully without casualties. An auction was held in Halim afterward. Nothing particularly caught Ferda’s eye—except one sword. He bought it as encouragement for Malcolm.

He almost cried when he received it… I nearly took it back.

Even though Malcolm had passed the Imperial knight exam, he still wasn’t very knight-like.

Well, that’s why he’s useful.

Halim was behind them. Scholars wrapped up the exhibition. Some left satisfied, others disappointed.

Vernel, however, remained focused. Inside the carriage, he reviewed the blueprints for the magical engineering rifle, inspired by the field tests.

As Ferda prepared to leave Halim, he noticed sunlight reflecting off someone approaching: Bernard Wayne, headmaster of Escolaya Academy.

“Did you enjoy the exhibition?”
“Yes. Despite incidents, it was satisfying.”
“I’m looking for Vernel. Do you know where he is?”

Ferda glanced at the carriage.

“May I speak with Vernel?”

He sensed a faint trace of guilt in Bernard’s eyes. Is he here to apologize? Vernel, still burning with determination, could not afford cold water poured on his fire.

Bernard entered the carriage and called:

“Vernel.”

Vernel glanced at him, then turned away.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”“I have something to say. I—”
“I already know. I understand why you said what you did.”

Bernard hesitated.

“How do you know?”
“I’m a scholar too. I once studied under you. Everyone knows you’re strict with geniuses. Of course, you were strict with me.”

Vernel gazed at the ceiling, recalling the past without bitterness.

“I was really angry back then. Betrayed, disappointed. But not anymore. Because you were right.”

His voice and eyes carried admiration.

“You said I had a narrow view. I focused on 1% and missed 10%. Thanks to this opportunity, I expanded my vision.”“…”“Next time, I’ll bring something so revolutionary you’ll have no choice but to acknowledge it.”

Vernel smiled.

“Truth’s light—”

Bernard was taken aback. Every student knew that phrase. He smiled back.

“—shall set you free.”

The resentment between them remained, but the deep hatred was gone. Bernard patted Vernel’s shoulder.

“Turn the world upside down with your ideals.”
“When I do, I’ll treat you to tea.”

Bernard never apologized. Vernel never expected one. Both were seekers of truth, walking their own paths, bound by the same conviction.

“Let’s go!”

At Malcolm’s signal, the carriage rolled forward. Ten days to arrive, ten days to return.

Ferda’s mind wandered to Valdrova.

“My heart, what are you doing?”

No answer came. The carriage rolled on.

A dragon’s daily life is tied to its lair. Showing power was natural. Valdrova’s lair was different—like an underground prison. Originally cold and damp, now warm and dry.

Lying curled in her nest, she thought:

“I’m bored.”

Even an immortal being felt the dull passing of time. She had Ruri to keep her occupied, preventing boredom. Fear of bloodlust had always dominated her life.

But now, boredom returned.

Whenever pain came, Ferda helped. Small conversations arose:

“Greetings, Lady Valdrova.”
“Oh, hi!”
“I’ll begin.”
“Yes, yes!”
“…Wait, was that even a conversation?”

It wasn’t. Ferda did all the talking; she only nodded or shook her head.

She thought: What if I make monster hunting the topic?

“I went out and killed some monsters today.”
“Did you?”
“One wouldn’t die from my claws, so I set it on fire.”
“Ah…”
“Parasites inside wriggled as they burned.”
“Uh…”

She imagined Ferda’s face—disgusted. Is this really my fiancé? It made her miserable.

“I promised I would change…”

But all she ever said was “hello,” “goodbye,” or a few short comments. Bloodlust gone, yet another pain remained.

“Maybe I should ask Ferda to talk to me more…”

Maybe this time, she could choose the topic. Of course, she had thought that eight times before, and nothing changed. The reason was simple:

“I have nothing to talk about.”

No seeds, no sprouting topics, nothing to say. But today, she realized she didn’t need to worry.

“Ferda went to a place called… Halim.”

She knew it wasn’t good. Ruri had warned her; her expression darkened. A battlefield, perhaps.

“And there’s been more work than usual lately.”

She also remembered the alliance with Iorga—the Blue Dragon. Iorga disliked her, criticized her, put her down. Valdrova knew no harm was meant, but unease remained.