Short and Powerful
Five minutes before the incident—
Burnell stood backstage.
"Huff… huff…"
He was breathing heavily.
How long had it been since he had left his house and stood before a stage like this?
Had he ever allowed himself to hold such expectations?
'I have.'
But had he ever truly believed that a day like this would come?
Perhaps others had, but Burnell had not.
His life had been defined by constant ridicule and nearly having his organs taken by loan sharks.
Everything had changed after Ferda intervened, but even then, Burnell had never imagined himself standing here.
He carefully lifted the curtain and looked outside.
The vast rows of seats inside the opera house stretched before him.
His heart raced with excitement.
Yet the pressure and fear were even greater.
—Burnell, do you truly believe that can be realized?
President Bernard's words echoed in his ears, intensifying those emotions.
It had happened during a question session at an academic conference when Burnell was still a cadet at Escholeia.
—Anyone can propose such absurd ideals. But what will you do if you allow yourself to become obsessed with them?
—Do not believe you can overturn every existing law. You may be intelligent, but you are no such genius.
Bernard had tried to break Burnell's resolve.
Burnell had refused to give up.
But from that day onward, he had grown uncomfortable around people.
Standing on a main stage like this was especially difficult.
What if they laughed at him again?
What if they confused him with pointless criticism?
What if he disappointed the people who had believed in him?
Those questions became hands that tightened around Burnell's throat.
'Even so, I have to do this.'
For Regent Ferda, who had believed in him.
To humiliate Bernard, who had insulted him and refused to acknowledge his success.
And for himself, after sacrificing everything to reach this point.
"Haaaaah! Why isn't this damned medicinal tea working…?"
He had drunk several cups of tea said to ease nervousness, yet the distracting thoughts refused to leave his mind.
Burnell clasped his hands tightly and prayed.
He wished that something unexpected would happen and the whole event would be canceled.
"Aaaaaah!"
As though someone had granted his tiny wish, a scream erupted.
Burnell jolted awake at the sudden sound.
"What was that? What happened?"
The staff managing the stage began fleeing all at once.
Instead of following them, Burnell decided to assess the situation.
"Gasp…!"
A fissure had opened.
A fissure from which monsters were pouring out, right inside Halim's opera house.
'Is that even possible?'
There had been rare cases of gates appearing inside cities, but they were exceedingly uncommon.
For one to appear while so many people were gathered here—and precisely while a Monster Appearance Prediction Device was being introduced—
the timing was far too convenient.
'Should I run?'
Just as Burnell turned to retreat, something stopped him.
Ferda entered his field of vision.
He remained standing where he was.
With cold, unwavering eyes, he faced the fissure as though fleeing had never been an option.
Noblesse oblige.
Ferda was fulfilling his duty as a noble.
Burnell found himself inspired by that gaze.
'I need to do something too.'
Even if he could not risk his life as he had before, he needed to help somehow.
He sharply turned his head.
There stood the magitech rifle he had prepared.
Burnell picked up the rifle and began activating it.
He adjusted the mana output, warmed it sufficiently, set the selector, and calibrated its power according to the displayed values…
'Why are there so many steps?'
It required more than twenty separate operations.
Originally, it had required over a hundred.
Burnell had continued simplifying it after being told that Malcolm could never use it, eventually reducing the process to its current state.
'But even this is too many.'
Until just before the presentation, Burnell had thought,
Wasn't this already usable enough?
Surely people could operate something at this level?
'I was wrong.'
Making it simple enough for Malcolm to use meant making it simple enough to operate at any time.
A device this complicated could not be used during an emergency like this.
Every moment of delay would cost lives.
"Damn it."
What an idiot.
The president had been right.
Burnell was an idiot.
He had failed to imagine what people truly needed, obsessing instead over improving efficiency by another one percent.
Even as he cursed himself, Burnell continued moving without pause.
He decided to do what he could at this very moment.
At last, he completed the loading process and pulled the charging handle.
Wooooong—!
The object-acceleration magic circle activated and vibrated within the barrel.
Burnell carried the rifle onto the stage.
The battle had already reached its final stages.
The two remaining wolf monsters were charging toward Ferda.
'They're so fast!'
Burnell would have only one opportunity.
With that single shot, he had to land an effective hit.
But merely holding the rifle steady was difficult, and he had no confidence that he could track such rapid movement.
Crackle!
A streak of lightning shot from Ferda's hand.
It successfully stopped one monster, but not the other.
The remaining beast knocked Zed aside and pounced directly onto Ferda.
Then it moved to tear out his throat.
"No!"
Burnell hesitated no longer.
He pulled the trigger.
The magical formula activated, and a sphere of mana formed inside the glass tube.
The sphere was drawn into the long barrel, then shot forward as a streak of light.
Bang!
It pierced the chest of the monster attacking Ferda.
The shot struck its heart with perfect accuracy.
As the pure mana projectile embedded itself inside, the wolf monster yelped and thrashed before its entire body suddenly went rigid.
One shot.
A monster had fallen from a single shot.
Even Burnell, the man who had fired the rifle, looked stunned.
He had set the power higher than usual, but he had never expected it to kill the monster in one hit.
At most, he had thought it would buy Ferda some time.
But his intentions no longer mattered.
The thunderous blast that shook the building—
and the death of the final monster—
drew everyone's attention toward Burnell.
They stared at him with their mouths hanging open.
"What is that thing?"
"It looked like magic came out of it."
"Then is it a staff? Did he cast a spell?"
"There's no way a staff would look like that."
They were all speculating about the object in Burnell's hands.
The mana stone had originally been intended as the main focus of the presentation, while the magitech rifle was only going to be introduced as a simple application of it.
"Um…"
He needed to say something.
Burnell felt overwhelming pressure to speak, so he opened his mouth.
"This is the item I brought today—the magitech rifle…?"
That was all.
No more words came out.
But at the same time, it was enough.
That brief introduction alone was powerful enough to sear the rifle into everyone's mind.
While chaos consumed the presentation hall, several people watched the scene from afar.
The situation had ended, and the aftermath was being dealt with.
"Seven wolf monsters."
One man muttered with his arms crossed.
"How many people did you expect those seven wolf-type monsters to kill?"
The man beside him replied,
"At least three hundred, including the president of Escholeia."
"And yet not a single person died. Bernard survived as well."
"Whoever devised this plan will not escape responsibility."
This was not a failure that could be dismissed as merely falling short of expectations—or even wildly exceeding them in the wrong direction.
"What do you think caused the failure?"
"Do you really need me to answer that?"
"I'm asking because I want to know whether we're thinking the same thing."
The cause of their defeat could be summed up in a single name.
"Ferda Valdrova."
"So it was him after all?"
They had reached the same conclusion.
Ferda Valdrova.
Until recently, that name had continued to circulate among the demons.
Everything had begun going wrong once he started interfering.
"I heard he even borrowed the power of demons to attack a research facility. Did things turn out this way because we underestimated him?"
"We didn't underestimate him. If anything, our assessment bordered on overestimating him."
That assessment had been based on the testimony of Director Rinne.
The demons had assumed Rinne's testimony was merely an excuse he used to justify his defeat.
"And yet even that supposed overestimation fell short."
Ferda had surpassed their imagination.
"He knows how to neutralize monsters using First- and Second-Circle mages who are normally useless in combat."
"His assessment and distribution of forces were flawless as well. He pushed himself somewhat, but it seems he accounted for even that."
"He's cold and calculating. Somehow, he appears highly experienced in battles like this."
"How can an eighteen-year-old possibly do that?"
"Perhaps he has fought on a battlefield before."
"Look at his body. What could he possibly have done with that skinny frame and no muscle?"
"Then… was he born with it?"
"That is too refined to be mere natural instinct. There is nothing spontaneous about it. He's operating on an entirely different level."
They had countless theories about Ferda, yet no answers.
They remained completely in the dark.
"The other factors surrounding him may help us solve the puzzle."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm saying we should broaden our perspective. Let's search for clues in the people around him as well."
He gestured with his chin toward the brown-haired man.
"That man named Zed is strange too. Can someone really move like that merely because Haste was cast on him?"
"Ordinary humans cannot. To move that well, he must have spent his life accustomed to that kind of speed."
"I thought it was strange that a womanizer who only chased skirts had been accepted as a knight. So there was a reason."
The man nodded as though he finally understood.
"As for that fellow Malcolm…"
"He's simply an idiot. Even though the situation ended long ago, he is still diligently kidnapping mages, isn't he?"
"…I suppose so."
Meanwhile, the other man considered something carefully before speaking.
"We should revise the danger classification. At least to the Alberdo level."
"You mean Ferda Valdrova? That seems premature. I still believe he remains within our projected parameters."
The man shook his head.
"I'm referring to him."
He pointed with his chin toward the blue-haired man standing on the stage.
The man who had killed a wolf monster with a single shot from an object resembling a work of art.
Burnell Marquis.
"That man's influence will undoubtedly surpass even Ferda Valdrova's."
The incident in the presentation hall ended with all seven wolf monsters dead.
Many people had been injured, but the fact that the battle had ended without a single fatality was profoundly significant.
Ordinarily, even one monster appearing resulted in at least three deaths. As their numbers increased, the death toll rose exponentially.
Yet despite seven of them invading, not one person had died.
Everything had ended before Halim's reinforcements even arrived.
Calling it merely impressive would not do it justice.
It was astonishing.
And the person who had led them through that astonishing situation was Ferda.
"Thank you for saving our lives, Regent."
"We are truly humbled by your dazzling nobility and offer you our deepest admiration. Thank you."
Those who had fought alongside him—and even those who had fled—returned and showered Ferda with flattery.
Ferda's refusal to retreat from the front line and his willingness to fight embodied noblesse oblige itself.
Of course, Ferda was not the only one receiving praise.
Another man had left an equally strong impression.
"Do you know who that man is?"
"I heard his name is Burnell Marquis. Apparently, he was one of the presenters."
It was Burnell.
He had appeared at the very end of the monster attack and brought it to a dramatic close, so naturally people began talking about him.
"Ah, I remember now. It must be something extraordinary if President Bernard pushed it through as a solo presentation."
"Is that the object?"
"I don't think so. The name doesn't sound right if it's supposed to be a mana stone. Shouldn't a mana stone be an actual stone?"
"Then what in the world is that?"
They had no concept of magitech, so they could not understand exactly what the object was.
But there was no need to explain the concept in tedious detail.
Magitech was a technology capable of killing a monster in a single shot.
That alone made it worthy of attention.
Burnell noticed that the way people looked at him had changed and cautiously approached Ferda.
"Um, Regent… there's something I need to tell you…"
"Speak."
"I did kill the monster, but… it wasn't actually supposed to die."
Ferda turned toward him.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I've been thinking. Based on the measured power from the rifle's previous demonstrations, along with the wolf monster's muscle density and the projectile trajectory, the shot should never have reached its heart."
"You weren't trying to kill it?"
"I only expected to buy some time. So I roughly examined the corpse afterward…"
"Go on."
"The muscle at the point where I fired had separated slightly. The shot passed perfectly through the gap between the muscle fibers, reached the heart with almost no loss of force, and then exploded inside it."
Ferda summarized Burnell's explanation.
"So you're saying a series of coincidences happened to align perfectly?"
"Yes, exactly."
Ferda stared at Burnell's face.
"Would telling anyone that benefit us in any way?"
"Uh… no?"
"Then don't ruin the mood. Just enjoy it."
Ferda patted Burnell on the shoulder and walked away.
The moment he left, numerous scholars and merchants approached Burnell.
They introduced themselves and offered respectful greetings.
Burnell smiled awkwardly at them.
It did not feel particularly bad.
Whatever the circumstances, this opportunity had come from something he had created.
Meanwhile, Penelope clung to Zed and bounced excitedly.
"Zeddy, Zeddy! Look over there! Look at the way those females are staring at you!"
"…"
"Oh my God. I already feel like I'm full. C-Can I cry?"
"…Shut up, idiot."
Zed pushed Penelope's head away as she made a fuss.
With a troubled expression, he quietly slipped away.
His face looked unusually complicated, and Penelope followed after him like a child.
"What is it? Are you going for the mysterious, complicated man concept?! That's not bad either! Just don't overdo it! You're feasting tonight!"
While everyone else basked in intense attention, Malcolm alone did not.
"Are you insane?! You threw me into the middle of a battlefield!"
"I'm sorry! I thought you were a witch…!"
"What did you just say, you lunatic?! Do I look like a witch to you?!"
"No, that's not what I meant! I genuinely thought you were someone capable of using magic."
Even five minutes after the situation had ended, Malcolm had continued diligently kidnapping mages.
He had mistaken a deeply wrinkled noblewoman for a witch and dragged her over, so he was now being showered with spit and insults as she unleashed her fury upon him.
Within a single minute, she had verbally erased his parents, his manhood, and a great many other things besides.
Unable to watch any longer, Ferda personally stepped in front of the noblewoman.
The situation calmed down within ten seconds.
Malcolm lowered his head, drenched in cold sweat.
"I'm sorry, Regent. I made a mistake."
"No. Raise your head. Did you commit a crime?"
"You told me to bring only mages, but I brought a noblewoman and caused trouble…"
"That much could not be helped. You fulfilled your duty. As a knight of the principality, you carried out my command, and you did an excellent job."
Ferda was sincerely grateful to him.
What would have happened if Malcolm had tried to persuade the mages instead of dragging them over?
Not a single one would have come.
Who in their right mind would willingly walk into a place where death awaited them?
Had Malcolm not kidnapped them, Ferda's plan would have been disrupted.
The operation had gone smoothly precisely because Malcolm had done what only Malcolm could do.
"Thank you…!"
Tears welled in Malcolm's eyes from the pent-up injustice he had suffered.
Just as the matter was settled, someone approached Ferda.
No one stood in the places where the man stepped, making it obvious that he was a person of considerable status.
"I greet the consort of Valdrova, wielder of the great power of fire. I am Ahmed, lord of Halim, this land of pleasure."
He was the lord of Halim.
Before Ferda could respond to his greeting, Ahmed dropped to one knee.
"On behalf of Halim, I sincerely thank you for bringing this disaster under control."
Everyone was stunned by Ahmed's actions.
"My God… the lord of Halim is kneeling…"
"They say he kept his back straight even before the Emperor…"
Southern lords were known for refusing to kneel lightly even before kings.
The fact that Ahmed had knelt before Ferda in public elevated Ferda's reputation even further.
It was not a bad result.
"I merely fulfilled my duty as a noble."
"Who would risk their life to resolve a disaster in someone else's territory? Rather than remain here, allow me to escort you to the castle. We should have your wounds treated and continue our conversation there."
Only then did Ferda remember that his neck had been pierced.
The bleeding had stopped, but the wound throbbed painfully.
'It will certainly leave a scar.'
He needed a topic of conversation with Valdrova, but he did not want to begin with a scar like this.
"Can it be healed completely?"
"Of course. I will summon the finest healer available and ensure that not even a scar remains."
Ferda departed for the lord's castle alongside Ahmed.