I Married the Dragon I Killed

**Chapter 14. Swallow Trap**

Vernel was often told he was a “my way” kind of person.
Because of that, even in the small confines of the academy, he hadn’t managed to make a single friend, and his standing had fallen from prodigy to barely above a dropout.
But even Vernel, with his “my way” attitude, couldn’t help but feel powerless in front of this man.

‘An overwhelming aura…’

Eyes that seemed to pull him into the depths of an abyss.
But those eyes weren’t entirely empty.

There was also a trace of affection for Valdrova.

Someone who truly seemed like they’d do anything for *that person*.

Feeling as if his life might be at stake, Vernel finally opened his mouth.

“I-I don’t know. I don’t think something like this would shake my convictions…”

But, well, what’s said is said, and what’s done is done.

Even with such a threat, Vernel didn’t want to change his mind so easily.

‘Aah! Am I gonna die here?!’

He shut his eyes tightly and started imagining all sorts of terrible scenarios.

Would his fingers be twisted?

Or would he get beaten to a pulp like a stray dog by some loan shark?

Then, Ferda’s hand came to rest on Vernel’s shoulder.

“I see.”

Ferda lightly patted him on the shoulder.

Vernel, who still had all his limbs intact, opened his eyes wide and asked in confusion.

“W-wait, huh?”

“I said I see, didn’t I?”

“…That’s it? That’s the end of it?”

“Yes. I think that’s enough for now. I never planned to convince you in just one day.”

“Oh… Uh, r-right…?”

Ferda reached out his hand to Ruri, and she pulled out a scroll from beneath her wide skirt.

“Take it.”

“What is this?”

“A letter of appointment.”

“A l-letter of appointment?”

“Yes. It’s a formal letter appointing you as the official head researcher of Valdrova Castle. The conditions are exactly as I mentioned earlier. The only thing that will change is how you choose to see it.”

Ferda then stood up and turned to leave.

“Take your time to think about it. And once you’ve decided, come to the royal domain whenever you’re ready. Let’s go.”

“Yes.”

Ferda and Ruri left the room just like that.

No lingering, no hesitation—they truly disappeared.

The letter of appointment they left behind rolled across the floor, stopping at Vernel’s feet.

Left alone, Vernel could only stare blankly at it.

—

“Can we really trust this Vernel guy?”

Inside the carriage, Ruri asked from her seat across from Ferda.

In her right hand, she held a skewer of candied fruit, and in her left, five more skewers were waiting to meet their end in her mouth.

Ferda nodded.

“We can trust him.”

“Those kinds of idealists tend to cling to their stubbornness all the way to the grave, you know.”

“I’ll make him come around.”

“And how are you so sure?”

“They say those who desire peace must always prepare for war.”

“And who said that?”

Who else?

*‘That guy.’*

It was something Vernel Marquis from the future had said.

He had realized far too late how hypocritical his extreme pacifism had been.

“So, assuming we recruit him… where are we headed next?”

Ferda had, of course, already decided on their next destination.

“To Hallim.”

“Hallim? You mean the southern city of entertainment?”

Ruri’s expression darkened even more than usual.

Not that she was ever greeted with warm looks in the first place, but now she might as well have been an insect under people’s gaze.

It made sense, given that city’s notorious reputation as a haven of extravagance and pleasure.

“If it’s just a stopover, couldn’t you choose a different city?”

“No, it’s our destination. There’s someone I’m looking for there.”

“Someone… in a place like that?”

“They’ll definitely be there.”

“And you’re sure this has nothing to do with personal motives?”

“None whatsoever.”

Ruri scrunted suspiciously at Ferda.

She could tell he wasn’t lying. Not even a little.

Which made it feel even more suspicious.

How could someone be so completely honest all the time?

“So, who exactly are you looking for?”

“Jed Swallow.”

One of the names on the list Ruri was holding.

“And what does this guy do?”

“He’s a con artist.”

“…A con artist?”

“Yes.”

A moment of silence.

Ruri thought it over carefully.

She wanted to make sure she wasn’t misunderstanding something, so she asked again.

“…You mean one of those scoundrels who sweet-talk noblewomen and wealthy ladies to scam them?”

“And a gambler, too.”

“…”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

The more Ferda explained, the darker Ruri’s expression grew.

A heavy, dark aura began to emanate from her.

“Neighhh!”

“Whoa, whoa! What’s wrong with the horses all of a sudden?”

Even the poor horses, who had done nothing wrong, were startled into a frenzy.

The way ahead suddenly felt fraught with difficulty as the horses panicked for no apparent reason.

Ferda, watching this unfold, continued speaking.

“And he’s a Red-Eye.”

Ruri’s ominous aura instantly vanished.

Her reaction was one of surprise.

“Red-Eye… You mean that bloodline?”

“Yes.”

“I heard they were wiped out during the Great Cataclysm.”

“That’s what the world thinks, yes.”

*The world*, huh.

Ruri knew better than to dismiss something like this with a simple phrase like “the world.”

If there were signs that a Red Eye still existed, a report would have been submitted immediately.

In that case, she’d obviously have heard about it.

“How do you know about this?”

Ruri asked him directly.

“I just know.”

Ferda avoided giving a detailed answer.

She wanted to press him further, but Ruri had no solid grounds to keep questioning him.

“A con artist and gambler… but also a Red Eye.”

The combination was truly baffled.

Compared to Vernel Marquis, this person seemed like an even worse human being but also someone with unmatched ability.

“Should I object… or agree to this?”

Ruri found herself standing at the crossroads, pondering the decision endlessly.

As she chewed on her candied fruit to keep her brain from overheating, she thought it over even more intensely.

Ferda decided to help her make an easier choice.

“I hear the southern region is famous for its sweet desserts.”

“Fine, let’s go check it out.”

—

The southern region was hot all year round.
Because of the blazing sun, the land was dry, and if you went to the far southern reaches, you’d find yourself in a scorching desert devoid of a single blade of grass or drop of water.

Hallim was a city of entertainment that capitalized on the southern region’s unique traits.

The days were hot, but the nights were cool, so nightlife flourished, attracting many nobles and wealthy visitors.

If the air of Escolia was filled with the scent of coffee and tea, here it was heavy with the sweet aroma of sugar.

For Ferda, it was enough to give him a headache, but Ruri’s nose seemed to be in heaven all day long.

Ferda headed straight to a casino.

Ruri stared blankly at the chips Ferda had exchanged.

He had taken everything he brought with him and used it all to exchange for chips.

—

**”Didn’t you say you didn’t have any ulterior motives?”**

“I don’t.”

“Really? None at all?”

“This is getting tiresome. Just drag that cart and follow me.”

With Ruri glaring daggers at him, Ferda silently walked into the casino.

Women in provocative clothing and people laughing as they indulged in fleeting pleasures.

He walked solemnly through this utopia bought with money, where people temporarily forgot about reality.

And then, amidst all of it, he saw one man.

A young man who stood out, gleaming amidst the dark and sleazy atmosphere.

Bright brown hair and jet-black eyes.

A tall, sturdy build that was slim yet didn’t appear fragile.

People flocked around him.

When he smiled, they smiled. When he looked regretful, they mirrored his regret.

This man had absolute control over his audience.

**‘Jed Swallow.’**

With his smooth talking and good looks, he had charmed countless nobles.

He was so magnetic that many didn’t even realize they were being scammed.

**‘Well, his greed did eventually catch up to him.’**
But that hadn’t been much of a problem.

Clever rabbits dig three burrows, or so they say.

Jed Swallow? He dug three more inside each of those burrows to escape every time.

**‘He even escaped Shark Island, supposedly unbreakable, and the Ice Prison of the northern pole.’**

He was a true thief of legend—there was nothing he couldn’t do.

**‘Though all of that’s only possible because no one knows he’s a Red-Eye.’**

The descendants of the Red Eye bloodline all had one defining feature: crimson eyes.

A special talent—the capacity to disturb mana that lingered in things or the atmosphere—came along with those eyes.

To mages, the Red Eye were natural enemies.

The man Ferda was looking at now had deep black eyes, the kind of eyes you’d see in any ordinary human.

So, no one would ever suspect him of being a Red Eye.

**‘Even if someone found out he’s a Red-Eye…’**

Jed was confident no one could catch him.

He had the skills to back it up.

**‘He’s someone I absolutely need.’**

Ferda walked up to the table, hands behind his back, and quietly took a seat.

Notice the stranger, Jed greeted him with a friendly smile.

“Well, look who we have here! A new face! Nice to meet you. I’m Jed.”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Ferda.”

“You should be careful around the people here. They’re all vultures, just waiting to pick you apart!”

“Haha! I’ve played a bit of poker myself!”

“And yet you lost 40 gold coins and still talk like that!!”

The atmosphere was lively.

Not a single person at the table had actually won any money, yet everyone was laughing.

It was remarkable how Jed could make people smile despite their losses.

**‘The way he controls the crowd with his words and presence…’**

But to Ferda, it all looked like nothing more than a carefully crafted mask of deceit.

“Have you ever played poker before?” Jed asked.

“I know the basics.”

“Well, everyone starts somewhere. Right?”

“Where would experts come from if not beginners, huh? Hahaha!”

“Right! I just learned today, and I’m already starting to get the hang of it!”

Ferda had no interest in the others proudly bragging about how clueless they were.

“Let’s play a round, shall we?”

“Let’s do it. What’s the point of just talking here?”

The game began.

Ferda won a little here and there.

One might chalk it up to beginner’s luck, but Ferda thought differently.

This was Jed’s way of reeling him in.

**‘He’s laying the bait well.’**

Jed was a man with skilled hands.

Even Ferda, who prided himself on his keen eye, couldn’t tell exactly where he was being tricked.

Ferda decided to play along.

But at the same time, he subtly showed Jed that he wouldn’t be an easy mark, pulling Jed deeper into his own trap.

“Hmm, looks like it’s about time to wrap this up. We’ve been at it for quite a while,” Jed said.

“Oh? Is that so?”

“Well, if you’re saying so, I guess.”

“Let’s make the last round a big one! Hahaha!”

Jed dealt the cards, and the final game began.

“Alright, let’s bet. 100!”

“200 gold coins!”

“Wow, bold moves, huh? Alright, I’ll see your 200 and raise to 400!”

The turn came to Ferda.

“All in.”

He pushed all his remaining chips forward.

Even at a glance, they were worth more than 2,000 gold coins.

The room buzzed.

“The guy who was betting small just went all in?”

“Isn’t this a bit too much for the last hand?”

Ferda interlocked his fingers and rested them on the table, repeating himself calmly.

“All in.”

The middle-aged players fiddling with their cards groaned and folded.

“Come on, there’s always another game tomorrow. I’m out.”

“Yeah, me too.”

The turn came back to Jed.

“What makes you so confident?” he asked, smiling slyly.

Ferda looked down at him and replied,

“Don’t worry. I’m going to win this game.”

“I don’t see why you’d be so sure of that.”

“Because you’re going to fold.”

Jed leaned back in his chair, letting out a quiet laugh.

“And why would I fold?”

“Because, to be honest, I don’t feel like losing money. There’s a kid here who thinks I like gambling, and I’d hate to prove them right.”

“Trying to impress a kid by losing money? That’s a bit much. If that’s the case, you shouldn’t have shown up here in the first place, huh?”

Jed chuckled softly, thinking Ferda was just bluffing like any other gambler.

“It’s not just that,” Ferda continued.

“Hm?”

“I also know what you’re after.”

“What I’m after? What could that be? I already have beautiful women, drinks, and money right here.”

Jed pulled a woman close, and she giggled happily.

She was undoubtedly some noblewoman from the provinces.

Ferda looked him straight in the eyes and said,

“But out of all those women, none of them is Emilia.”

The confident mask Jed wore cracked.

The hand holding his cards trembled ever so slightly, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

It was brief, but everyone at the table felt the tension.

But Jed wasn’t just any gambler—he was an expert.

“…I call.”

He didn’t fold. Instead, he pushed all his chips forward.

He wasn’t about to let go of a game he could win.

“Straight flush. What about you?”

Ferda revealed his cards.

“A king-high.”

“A king-high?! You went all in with that?!”

The middle-aged players gasped, their eyes wide in disbelief.

Jed won.

Having lost all his money, Ferda stood up without a hint of regret.

“Hold on, nobleman.”

Just as Ferda was about to leave, brushing off his loss, Jed called out to him.

“Since I took all your money, how about I buy you a drink? You look old enough to have one.”

Jed’s face was still smiling, but the expression didn’t sit well.

“I’ll buy.”

There was a hint of malice behind that smile.

“Sure.”

Everything was going exactly as Ferda had planned.

—

The casino was full of laughter and joy.

A land of endless pleasure where time was forgotten under the eternal sun.

But Ferda and Jed had turned their backs on the casino, heading back to the lodging together.

The moment they stepped into the hotel hallway, Jed’s tone turned sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

“Who the hell are you?”

His voice, once filled with laughter, was now cold and menacing.

Ferda quietly complied.

He had nothing in particular to say for now.

“You know something about me, don’t you?”

“That’s not important.”

“Yeah, not at this stage. Let’s skip the boring introductions then.”

Jed pulled a dagger from inside his coat.

“Tell me why you mentioned *that* name.”

Jed’s eyes turned a vivid crimson.

Those eyes—the hallmark of the Red-Eye bloodline—were why they were called Mage Killers.

**‘Any magic circle touched by those eyes will be nullified.’**

To most mages, the appearance of a Red-Eye would be a nightmare.
But Ferda had no reason to be afraid.

“Jed Swallow. If you don’t want me to expose your identity to the world, put those eyes away.”

“You’re with *them*, aren’t you?!”

“I’m here for a rational conversation.”

“My sister—what did you do to my sister, you bastard?!”

The man who had worn a smiling mask now revealed his true, enraged face.

Even Ferda hadn’t seen this side of him before.

“Don’t show me your murderous intent again.”

Ferda’s voice was low, almost a whisper, but his warning was clear.

“My maid isn’t exactly loyal to me. But if my life is in danger, she won’t hesitate to kill you.”

The warning was purely for Jed’s sake.

“I want to talk to you. So put that killing intent away.”