"I must go to Pellenberg immediately."
"Right now, sir?"
"Yes."
[He must be possessed by a demon.]
The reply from the Duke of Pellenberg was short and concise. But that made it all the more intense.
So intense, in fact, that Fernan couldn't stand still without doing something immediately.
"The entrance ceremony you've been waiting for is in two days. Didn't you say you would attend to personally observe the new students?"
"Listen carefully, Hyde. Everything has its time."
There's a time to buy and a time to sell. A time to earn money and a time to spend it. Everything is about timing.
A brief reply. But from that alone, Fernan could guess—
"If I miss the timing now, Father might excommunicate me."
"Surely not to that extent…"
The servant, who had been shaking his head, fell silent.
"…Come to think of it, it was a serious overstep. It was essentially going directly against His Grace's will."
It could have been dismissed as the foolish overreach of an ignorant son. Pellenberg had the authority to make that possible, regardless of what others might say.
But even so, the process would inevitably leave a stain on the Duke's reputation and trustworthiness.
And for a merchant, breaking trust was a fatal blow above all else.
"To be honest, even I couldn't believe you would suddenly make such a decision unless you were under some kind of spell."
He was under a spell. Not from a demon or devil—but from a prophecy book.
"But didn't you have a purpose behind your decision? If you explain that properly to the Duke, won't he understand?"
"…"
He couldn't say it.
What would happen if he said he got a prophecy book?
'At first, he'll be curious and ask me to bring it to him.'
The Duke of Pellenberg was an open-minded man, willing to do anything if it meant making money.
However, solid evidence and verification were essential.
'If I say it's all in my head, he'll say I'm just a deluded merchant dragging the family into ruin.'
Of course, he might give Fernan a chance and try to verify it—however slim the possibility.
But most of the prophecy in Fernan's head was about events involving Aint Armian and the academy. That alone would never convince the Duke.
'The only part mentioned outside the academy was…'
Fernan bit his lip.
A detail that had been barely brushed over—but luckily, it involved money.
'There's no choice but to gamble.'
That's what investment is.
You invest after thorough research and verification, but in this world, nothing is ever 100% certain.
People dress it up with the nice word "investment," but at its core, it's just a kind of high-probability gamble.
"I've thought of a good method."
"May I ask what it is?"
"The pufferfish tactic."
"The pufferfish tactic…"
Pufferfish refer to a type of fish known for their deadly poison and their ability to inflate by sucking in air or water when threatened.
"Are you saying you'll poison the Duke? That's madness—"
"How did you arrive at that conclusion?"
"If not that…"
The servant hesitated.
"Are you going to bluff the Duke?"
"It's not bluffing."
"Then what is it?"
"Just drop it. Go get a ship ready."
Fernan deliberately avoided the servant's gaze.
"The young master has arrived."
"Bring him in immediately."
"Yes, sir."
The butler stepped out.
Rustle, rustle—the man's hand, which had been signing documents, stopped. He turned his head to look out the window and saw his son stepping down from the carriage.
"He looks perfectly sane. I thought he must've lost his mind from taking some strange drug."
That made it even worse. It meant he had tried to ruin the family with a clear head.
"He's possessed by a demon. Definitely possessed. That devil killed by the first emperor must have returned."
There was no other way to explain why a once-sane man would do something so insane.
Knock knock—
"Duke, Young Master Fernan has arrived."
Lost in thought for a moment, the butler opened the door.
The son he hadn't seen in nearly a month walked in slowly. He didn't seem particularly nervous. More than like a demon, he seemed like someone with a hidden card up his sleeve.
The butler closed the door and stood at attention.
"I've come to speak with you, Father."
"Then explain."
The Duke murmured quietly, still buried in his paperwork.
"All the nobles of the Empire know this. If the Frontier Count collapses, the northern front of the Empire will fall. Support is still coming in, and Berchef is being rebuilt."
What once felt like pouring water into a bottomless jar was no longer the case. The Berchef family was slowly making progress, and all they needed now was time—just time.
"I disrupted the Empire's support bit by bit to deny them that time, and I made Berchef borrow money from us."
The interest was meant to delay their recovery and ultimately render them unable to repay the principal. Once things matured enough, he intended to demand their secret swordsmanship in exchange for the debt.
But then that son of his overturned everything.
"That was our first and last chance."
Given Berchef's latent strength, it was obvious that such an opportunity would never come again unless the world ended.
"Why did you do it?"
"I decided on a better investment."
"Better than the secret swordsmanship of a count family that has defended the northern Empire for a thousand years?"
"…I can't tell you that."
"…Fernan."
The Duke's hand froze. His brow twitched at the tone, like a whining child.
"This isn't a polite request. You are not the heir right now—you are a criminal and a scoundrel who tried to waste the family's fortune."
"It will return with far greater profit."
"Can you guarantee that?"
"I can."
But as he saw Fernan's unwavering gaze, he reconsidered slightly.
He knew his son better than anyone. He wasn't one to act rashly. And if he did act that way, there had to be a valid reason.
The Duke had raised him to be that way.
He realized it—his son was hiding something.
"Then I'll ask again. Where does that confidence come from? What did you invest in, and what is the source of your belief in it?"
"…I still can't answer that."
"Unbelievable. I never raised you to be so reckless."
What could it be? The Duke raised his pressure to try and dig into his son's inner thoughts. He saw Fernan swallow a groan.
"Did you fall for Luina Berchef or something?"
He tossed the bait.
"No. I'm not foolish enough to throw away money blinded by love."
"Then why can't you give me a reason, after pulling such a stunt?"
"The Arus Mountains."
"The Arus Mountains?"
"In the western Arus Mountains, within the domain of the Viscount of Donets, there's an undiscovered mana stone mine. It's quite large. In the long term, it should be enough to offset some of Berchef's losses."
"A mana stone mine?"
Mana stones were ores infused with mana—some of the most prized minerals. Naturally, they meant money. A lot of it.
If what he said was true, this was a major opportunity. But it was hard to believe so easily.
"You discovered something the Donets family themselves didn't?"
"You know, I have a private intelligence network I operate."
"I don't consider it superior to the family's. It's basically just kids playing at spies."
"Well, children like to dig in the dirt when they play. Sometimes, they get lucky and dig up a lost coin."
Fernan shrugged. His sly attitude was quite merchant-like.
"Recently, one of the Donets Merchant Fleet's ships sank in a typhoon. Their finances are tight. If we press into that vulnerability, we'll have room to move."
"So what, are you telling me to stop asking questions and take the bait?"
"That's not it…"
"A mana stone mine, huh."
His tone was sharp, but he seemed pleased. A deal. If approached with a merchant's method, it was only right to respond in kind.
"If what you say is true, it could offset the damage you've caused. For now, I'll investigate and see if you're telling the truth."
"Thank you."
"This will take time, so for now, return to the academy and focus on your studies. I'll call you again once the results are in."
"Yes, Father."
"Oh, it's late—stay the night. We'll have dinner together in a bit."
"Yes, Father."
His son bowed and left. The Duke turned to the butler and asked:
"What do you think?"
"To try negotiating with Your Grace—he's become quite the merchant."
"Have you ever heard any rumors of a mana stone mine in the Arus Mountains?"
"No, sir."
"And Fernan knew of something even Black Turtle couldn't uncover?"
This was the decisive reason why the Duke accepted Fernan's bold proposal.
The Pellenberg Duchy possessed vast intelligence networks across the entire Empire—and even the entire continent—yet they had never heard of a mana stone mine in the Arus Mountains.
"…It certainly is unexpected."
"Still, he's not the kind of fool to lie about something that will be exposed immediately just to get out of a tight spot."
"Indeed. The young master would never do something like that."
"Look into the Golden Pillar as well."
The Golden Pillar was a personal intelligence network Fernan Pellenberg had started building from a young age.
The Duke had believed he knew everything—but apparently not.
"Fernan is both impressive and a little disappointing."
"I apologize. I will reorganize the network."
"Do that. But first, send someone to the Viscounty of Donets to check the western Arus Mountains. Make sure the viscount's people don't notice."
"Yes, sir."
The butler bowed deeply.
"And look into Luina Berchef. I want every detail about how she managed to charm a block of wood like Fernan."
"You mean the young master is in love with Luina Berchef?"
"He's the kind of person who never invests without a reason. And if there's a reason, he never hesitates to state it."
Yet despite having invested, he couldn't explain why. That could only mean something else had clouded his judgment.
Instead of confessing, he chose to negotiate. Likely out of shame—or perhaps because there was something else he absolutely couldn't reveal.
It was unlike his son to offer a mana stone vein merely out of embarrassment.
"A youthful love could be reason enough. Looking back, it seems trivial—but at the time, it feels like the entire world."
"Yes, sir."
"Call Hyde in on your way out. I have questions for him."
Hyde was Fernan's close attendant and aide.
The butler left. The Duke spun his pen thoughtfully.
"Fernan has always been obsessed with ores and their potential to bring in vast wealth."
He had scolded the butler, but he didn't believe the Black Turtle intelligence network had failed.
The continent was vast, and hidden mineral veins were abundant. Even the Black Turtle couldn't detect everything.
Still, he believed organizations only held their worth when kept sharp with constant pressure and expectations.
"If the organization has grown beyond expectations in mining and minerals…"
The Duke's lips curved slightly in amusement at his son's unexpected growth.
"I won't ask about the secret you're hiding—at least not for now."
This was a transaction. If the returns were sufficient, there was no need to dig.
This was all underpinned by the fundamental trust that Fernan wouldn't bring harm to the family.
"What in the world could it be… Something that a man who loves money more than I do would choose instead of money?"
Love likely played a big role—but it couldn't be the whole story.
"This, too, I must uncover."
He had said he wouldn't ask—but that didn't mean he wouldn't find out for himself.
"…Did that go well?"
Fernan sighed with relief as he left the Duke's office.
"The mine is real. Father will definitely accept the deal."
Duke Pellenberg was a practical man. He would never refuse a pile of gold lying in front of him.
"Looks like I've put out the worst of the fire…"
It felt like he'd lost ten years of his life.
"Father will surely investigate the Golden Pillar as well."
He probably already had a grasp on everything, but this incident would make him question whether there were parts he hadn't seen.
"To delay being found out, I need to at least act like I've got more going on."
Everything aside from the bare minimum in the Academy had to be sent elsewhere.
Make it seem like things were happening all across the continent.
Meanwhile, he'd try to recall as much of the prophecy as he could and use it to plant more bait.
"Family matters can wait. Right now, Aint is the priority. Once the semester begins, a major event will happen."
Fernan clutched his head, trying to recall the prophecy.
"The victor! Aint Armian!"
The referee, after confirming the fallen cadet's condition, raised the flag to signal the end of the match.
At his declaration, the crowd erupted in cheers.
"Aint won!"
"Aint defeated Anto Dnern!"
The moment when Aint Armian began to truly shine.
"I need to see this for myself."
Hearing about it afterward or following along behind wouldn't be the same as witnessing it with his own eyes.