MTDIK 25

Chapter 25

Scents and Smells

---

---

The banquet hall of Valdrova Castle. Ferda was watching the gathering knights from above.

“Disgusting creatures.”

Ruri, standing next to him and overlooking the banquet hall, muttered with disdain.

“Your hatred for humans seems excessive,” Ferda commented.

“It’s not hatred for humans. Those things are just revolting,” Ruri retorted, covering her mouth and nose with a handkerchief as if she couldn’t bear it any longer.

“When I heard the term ‘wandering knights,’ I imagined they’d be like sewer rats, but somehow… How can they be even worse?”

The knights had doused themselves in an overwhelming amount of perfume. However, this was only enough to mask their stench to a human’s nose. For Ruri, a dragon spawn, it was a different story. She gagged.

“Do humans always walk around looking like this? This stench isn’t a fragrance or a smell—it’s more like a pile of garbage!”

Ferda nodded as if he understood.

“When meeting the king, that’s considered the minimum standard.”

“Not bathing, you mean?”

Ruri looked at him, questioning if he was serious.

Ferda nodded again.

“It’s considered one of the virtues of knights. Washing away your scent is seen as a disgrace for a knight. Even if they arrive in haste, smelling ‘refined’ is considered important.”

“You seem well-versed in such barbaric customs.”

“Being from a knightly family, you can’t help but learn about them.”

Ferda himself had always thought of such customs as barbaric. Most knights probably thought the same. It was just maintained because of that awful thing called tradition. The knights of the empire would cling to tradition even if it meant stabbing their own fathers.

“Would you do the same, Ferda?”

“I’m not a knight, so why would I?”

Ferda liked cleanliness. Back when he lived in the bathroom, he always kept it spotless. Cleanliness had become such an ingrained part of him that it couldn’t be separated from him even if he tried.

“It seems like everyone has gathered now. What do you want to do?”

“Hmm…” Ferda observed the crowd carefully once again.

‘As I thought, he’s not here.’

Ferda had lured the wandering knights with the promise of land in exchange for the bodies of 30 monsters. This condition was not only a way to collect monster corpses quickly but also an excuse to gather and observe the wandering knights.

‘The walking fortress, Alberdo, isn’t among them?’

A wandering knight clad in armor as solid and heavy as a turtle shell, carrying a greatsword in one hand and a large shield in the other. He roamed the lands on foot without even a horse or a squire, appearing shabby yet embodying the ideal of a noble knight.

‘I knew he had no interest in land or pledging loyalty, but I thought he might care about the far eastern territories.’

He had sworn to fight against all threats to humanity. Naturally, the far eastern region, constantly exposed to danger, seemed like a place the walking fortress would desire.

“Are you looking for someone in particular?”

As Ferda’s eyes scanned the crowd, Ruri asked curiously.

“If I were looking for someone, then yes. But if I weren’t, then no.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It’s like hoping to find a silver coin lying on the road. Enough chatter. Let’s head down now.”

“Understood.”

Ruri pointed her finger at Ferda’s feet. She swirled her finger, and a white vortex quietly began to spin beneath him. Ferda felt his body grow lighter.

‘Heaven’s Stair.’ It was a third-tier spell that allowed one to descend safely and slowly from the air. Though trivial and not particularly useful, it was a favorite among nobles for maintaining their dignity.

Ferda stepped into the air, his body descending slowly in a diagonal line toward the platform.

“Huh?”

Someone noticed Ferda and exclaimed.

“Someone’s coming down.”

“Is that… the lord of the castle?”

The clueless wandering knights simply stood there, staring blankly as he descended. Ferda clasped his hands behind his back and stepped onto the platform. Turning smoothly, he looked down at the wandering knights. His graceful descent and the dignified aura of a grand mage silenced even the most oblivious of the knights.

“Greetings,” he said in a solemn voice.

Stefan, who had been watching Ferda, was momentarily captivated by the extraordinary sight.

‘So that’s the pillar of Valdrova? The immature brat drunk on power?’

It was hard not to be amazed. He’d heard that the consort of the public king was a young man who had just reached adulthood—but the boy truly looked young. Among the wandering knights, none were younger than him. Even the youngest wandering knight was five years his senior.

‘And yet he exudes such dignity, as if he’s held his position for decades. His charisma rivals that of seasoned family heads.’

Even though Ferda was five years younger, no one dared to use his youth against him.

‘What am I doing?!’ Stefan snapped out of his daze. How could he stand stiffly with his legs straight before the king? Some quick-witted knights had already knelt.

Stefan nudged Lovelus in the side.

“Sir Knight.”

“Huh? Oh, right, right!”

“You need to kneel.”

“Oh? …Ah!”

Realizing his mistake, Lovelus hastily dropped to one knee. It wasn’t proper etiquette, but who would care? The rest of the knights soon followed suit, kneeling after snapping out of their stupor.

Ferda continued speaking.

“I am Ferda Valdrova, consort of the public king and acting regent of the royal domain.”

“Greetings to the regent of the royal domain!”

Someone greeted him with a loud voice, and the rest of the knights followed suit, shouting their greetings belatedly.

The knight at the very front ran a hand through his hair, preparing to introduce himself.

“It is an honor to set foot in the domain of the ruler of great power. As for me—”

“Ah, no need for that.”

Ferda cut the knight off mid-sentence. Refusing to hear a knight’s introduction was a breach of royal etiquette.

‘Why would he do that?’

It wasn’t something worth overthinking. Ferda had no intention of observing formalities from the start.

“The fancy packaging you’ve prepared is useless. When the contents are all trash, why bother raising expectations?”

“…What?”

“What… what do you mean…?”

The wandering knights stammered in confusion, their plate armor clanking.

‘Ugh, how brutal!’ The stench of their perfume already had Stefan feeling nauseous. Now, with the tense atmosphere, he felt utterly drained. Ferda, having unleashed his harsh words, remained calm, like a great river flowing steadily.

“Would you prefer I put it more plainly? You’re all hollow. Empty shells making a lot of noise.”

Thud! A knight slammed his gauntlet against the floor.

“Your words are excessive, Regent! I implore you to withdraw them!”

The knight had a menacing appearance, his armor covered in scratches that gave him the look of a battle-hardened veteran. Stefan recognized him as the man who had sold him 30 monster corpses.

‘Wow, the audacity!’

As Stefan grimaced, Ferda gazed down at the knight.

“Excessive, you say…”

He nodded as if acknowledging the point.

“Fine. If my words are wrong, I will apologize.”

With his hands clasped behind his back, Ferda began to pace the platform, his gaze sweeping over the knights.

“Is there anyone here who personally hunted all 30 monsters themselves?”

“Uh…”

“Ahem…”

Some knights who had been bristling with indignation coughed awkwardly, lowering their heads. However, a few remained defiant, smirking as they glanced at the others. The menacing knight continued to hold his head high.

Ferda shifted his focus to those still holding their heads high.

“Among you, is there anyone who hunted all 30 monsters alone?”

“Well…”

“Alone? That’s… impossible…”

The murmurs trailed off as Ferda’s gaze bore into them, and they fell silent, lowering their heads. However, the knights who had genuinely hunted the monsters themselves would have no reason to flinch.

‘Not a single one.’

If any wandering knight had the strength to single-handedly kill 30 monsters, they’d already be serving under someone. The fact that so many stood with their heads held high meant they were all lying. Still, they thought Ferda wouldn’t know the truth and brazenly pretended.

‘No lord with any sense would believe such nonsense.’

Stefan watched Ferda’s reaction carefully. Ferda locked eyes with the defiant knights, then nodded.

“I see.”

To everyone’s surprise, Ferda acknowledged them.

Just like that?

“Then I shall apologize.”

Ferda approached a young attendant standing beside him and held out his hand. She retrieved a scroll sealed with red wax from her skirt and handed it to him.

“Do you know what this is?”

Holding it up, Ferda addressed the knights. Even the slowest among them recognized it immediately.

“This is the deed to the land once managed by Thessalos Welcher, along with a certificate of nobility. All it needs is your name, and it will be valid.”

The prize every knight had been coveting.

“Regardless of the circumstances, you have presented 30 monster corpses. A promise is a promise.”

Ferda placed the scroll on the table atop the platform.

“If you desire it…”

His words marked the beginning of chaos.

“Come and take it.”

A fierce glint appeared in the eyes of every wandering knight. Stefan instinctively hunched his shoulders. He’d seen this scene too many times.

‘It’s like the frenzy of middle-aged women at a 70% clearance sale!’

When caught between them, you’d be crushed like a shrimp underfoot. And these weren’t middle-aged women—they were knights. The chaos would be far more brutal. It was better not to look, so he decided to lower his head.

However, no one moved. Not even Lovelus, who stood next to him.

Stefan glanced up slightly and whispered to Lovelus

“Sir Knight, aren’t you going?”

“Ugh… Ugh…”

No, he couldn’t move. Lovelus looked as if he were in agony. His eyes were wide open, as if they were about to pop out, staring fixedly at one spot.

Curious about what he was seeing, Stefan instinctively turned his head. And then—

“Gasp! H-huh?!”

Stefan let out a strangled noise, unable to breathe properly.

‘A… dragon?’

Where the attendant had been standing moments ago, there was now a silver dragon, coiled and glaring fiercely at the knights. Everyone was frozen in place, completely trapped under the dragon’s gaze.

‘What… what is this? When did that get here? Or… did we get transported somewhere else?’

Stefan began to wonder if he had somehow been moved to a different place. The fear was so intense it clouded his rational thoughts.

As everyone stood paralyzed, someone began to move.

“Successsss….”

A wheezing, dying sound came from the man.

“Laaand…”

“Freedommmmm… and escappppe…”

Like old men on the brink of death, they staggered toward the blank certificate lying on the platform.

As the slow, painful race toward the platform continued—

—Growl…

The dragon’s form began to twist. The once-still figure growled menacingly as the knights approached, as if enraged. The wandering knights, who had been forcing their bodies to move, froze in place once again. The silver dragon, which had been coiled tightly, started to move.

—ROAR!

It let out a deafening, enraged roar, as if its reverse scale had been touched.

“Ruri, what happens to knights when you use Dragon Fear?”

Before meeting the knights, Ferda had asked Ruri this.

“Most of them run away, convinced the dragon is chasing them,” she had replied.

“What if you use it lightly?”

“Well, their senses will convince them there’s a dragon present, making them unable to move.”

“That should be enough. When I give the signal, can you release a bit of Dragon Fear?”

“On the knights?”

“Yes. If we’re going to choose the owner of the land, they should at least not be cowards.”

Ferda had said this, and Ruri had somewhat agreed.

‘I thought it didn’t matter who became the owner, but…’

Ruri’s thoughts had slowly begun to change. People often say that things feel different once they start than when they only imagine them. But for Ruri, there was one decisive factor shaking her resolve.

‘The stench.’

It was the smell. Because of the Dragon Fear, the knights were sweating profusely, and their body heat rose. This heat made the perfume they’d doused themselves in and their natural body odors intensify.

On the ceiling, a cloud of disgusting, suffocating stench—mockingly called “the foul fog” by some—had formed. Even Ferda, who normally didn’t mind smells, could now feel the vile mixture wafting through the air. For Ruri, it was nothing short of hell.

The sweating knights themselves were likely unaware. They were too overwhelmed by Ruri’s Dragon Fear. Some were trembling in fear, while others were stubbornly forcing themselves to move, driven by greed.

“I-I’m finally… going to make it in life!”

“A-a dragon doesn’t scare m-me, not at all!”

They were now voicing their vile, pathetic thoughts out loud, making the situation even more unbearable for Ruri.

‘I want to throw them out right this instant.’

However, Ruri held herself back and focused on her role. She intended to observe them until the end.

But at that moment, Ruri’s silver eyes caught sight of something. It was the man at the front, climbing onto the platform. He reeked terribly, as though he hadn’t bathed in days. His sweat had likely dried and layered over itself multiple times.

One bead of sweat rolled down his filthy face, leaving a streak as it absorbed the grime that had accumulated on his skin. The droplet ran down his chin, dangling for a moment like a stalactite before falling.

Plop.

The dirty, foul-smelling sweat hit the sacred floors of Valdrova.

Crack.

Inside Ruri’s mouth, it felt as though something had shattered. The moment all this information registered in Ruri’s mind, she briefly lost control of herself.

The Dragon Fear erupted at full force, enveloping the entire banquet hall. Though it lasted only a fraction of a second, it was more than enough.

“AAAHH! I don’t want to die!”

The knights, who had been forcing themselves forward despite their fear, were the first to turn and flee. Panic spread like wildfire.

“Move! I just want to go home!”

“Waaaahhh! Mooooom! MOOOOOM!”

The knights, their armor clantering noisily, began running for the exit in disgraceful disarray. They scrambled over each other in their haste to escape, and within moments, the banquet hall was empty.

“Hmm…” Ferda, who had been watching the chaos, turned his gaze toward the battered doors.

“I was hoping to observe them a bit longer. What a shame.”

“…I’m sorry,” Ruri said.

“It’s fine. There are plenty of nobody like them. We’ll just hold another selection.”

Ferda’s gaze shifted slightly to another corner of the room.

“Besides, the selection wasn’t a complete failure.”

Standing in the middle of the now-deserted hall was a single man. He wasn’t a knight. His legs were trembling, but on closer inspection, it was clear he was forcing himself to stay put. Tears streamed from his eyes, snot dripped from his nose, and every opening on his face leaked bodily fluids. It was a situation where he seemed on the verge of suffocating from fear.

And yet, his eyes were locked on Ferda. Whoever this man was, Ferda decided he was at least worth talking to.

Valdrova Castle, Reception Room.

“What’s your name?”

“St-Ste-Stefan Pascal, sir.”

“Is your name St-St-Stefan?”

“S-sorry, sir. I-I stuttered. It’s Stefan! Stefan!”

“It’s fine. I understand. I just wanted to clarify. Take your time; there’s no need to rush.”

“Y-y-yes, sir! Hooo… hooo…”

Stefan was still struggling with the aftereffects of the Dragon Fear. No matter how many deep breaths he took, it wasn’t enough to calm himself.

‘His mental fortitude is exceptional,’ Ferda thought. The fact that he was able to hold a conversation despite trembling so badly was proof enough.

Ferda swallowed his admiration and asked,

“If you’re from the Pascal family, are you related to the Pascal Trading Company I’m thinking of?”

“Y-yes, sir. I’m the second son of Herman Pascal! I-I’m currently the branch manager of the Imperial Capital Office! I mean, the br-branch manager!”

“I see. So, what brings you here?”

“I-I was selling monster corpses to the knights, a-and I thought that the Duke might need some as well, s-so I came to discuss it…”

A man with a clear purpose. It was that purpose that had kept him from giving in to his instinct to flee. His reason had overcome his fear.

‘But the name “Stefan Pascal” bothers me…’

It was a name Ferda had never heard before. Herman Pascal had been the most famous merchant not just in the Empire but across the continent, so Ferda was well aware of him. After Herman’s death, a fierce inheritance battle had broken out, with two key players: Murchit and Tilda.

‘Stefan… must be a forgotten pawn.’

A lone, abandoned sailboat drifts endlessly on a windless sea until it’s forgotten and sinks. Though he had the qualifications of an heir, his lack of connections and support doomed him to insignificance.

‘However, if his downfall