Chapter 108
Karma
The strike was over, and the disputes had been resolved.
The incidents in Hestia Village had, for the time being, been brought under control.
Of course, they might have been resolved for the people of Hestia Village, but Ferda still had many more problems left to deal with.
The return of the demons.
In the end, Bernard Wayne, Chancellor of Escholeia, had been correct in his prediction.
It had now been confirmed that Gokma, one of the beings once known as the Seven Calamities, was still alive.
And he is powerful.
The amount of mana visible to the eye had not seemed especially great, but its depth was extraordinary.
The ability to create a subspace merely by drawing a finger through the air.
The power to distort and destroy a designated location with a single snap of his fingers.
All of it surpassed Ferda’s own abilities.
If I face him again, could I defeat him?
Ferda considered every means at his disposal, along with all the data he had gathered while observing Gokma.
He simulated the battle hundreds of times inside his head.
My chances of victory are measured in decimals.
Even that prediction assumed that some unforeseen miracle would occur.
Moreover, the simulated Gokma had been measured only according to the strength Ferda had witnessed so far.
If they fought in earnest and the demon revealed any hidden cards, Ferda possessed no means of responding.
No matter what he did, his probability of victory approached zero.
I have to become stronger.
He needed to reach a higher realm and obtain enough power to crush Gokma outright.
But is that even possible for me now?
He had gained a territory and now had to coordinate everything within the principality.
His workload would only continue to grow.
And the busier he became, the more he would inevitably neglect both his magical training and his duties as a mage.
Perhaps this is precisely when I should be training even harder.
But how convenient would life be if things always went according to one’s wishes?
A Red Circle fundamentally moved according to violent surges of emotion.
Love and hatred were said to be separated by only a single sheet of paper.
The word love-hate had not been coined without reason.
If he fell into a twisted state of mind, he would descend into the path of hatred he knew all too well.
Only through constant vigilance and unwavering conviction could he achieve proper growth.
But even then, how much stronger can I truly become?
There might be a lamp guiding him, but its light was far too weak to illuminate the entire fog.
Ferda had no idea what awaited him along the path he was walking.
What if I could use that power again...?
The Red Circle fueled by rage.
That was a path Ferda already knew.
He even knew how to walk it.
With that kind of power, he might be able to defeat even Gokma with ease.
There was a possibility—
Ferda abruptly shook off the thought as though waking from a dream.
...I must be under far more pressure than I realized.
He could hardly believe he had seriously considered such a foolish idea.
That power must never be created again, no matter the circumstances.
Was it not the emotion that had ultimately led him to kill Valdrova?
He could not allow himself to believe it could be controlled.
Ferda had already spent ten years trapped in that delusion.
As though fleeing from the thought, he moved on to the next possibility.
Then perhaps I need another means....
A staff containing mana.
A scroll inscribed with a magic circle.
Even products created through magitech could become weapons at his disposal.
What did I use in the past...?
It had been a staff known as the Sixth Element.
An ultimate weapon he had obtained after fighting for an entire week within the Tomb of the Immortal King.
That is not something I can use.
It was a relic of the Immortal King, a public enemy of the continent from the era before the Dragon-Demon War.
Back then, Ferda had been alone and little better than an evil criminal himself, so it had not mattered whether he used such an object.
If only his own standing suffered, he would not have cared.
But using it now could place Valdrova in danger.
Still, I do possess something comparable.
The branch struck by Heaven-Defying Lightning.
He had received it as a reward for his contribution during the monster incident in Halim.
He had never shown it to anyone and had simply left it stored away.
If it could be fashioned into a staff, he would be able to wield the overwhelming pure force of Heaven-Defying Lightning.
But making it will not be easy.
Naturally, the greater the power and efficiency of a spell, the more difficult it was to handle.
Perhaps it might have been possible a hundred years ago, but in Ferda’s era, there were no enchanters or blacksmiths skilled enough to create something capable of enduring Heaven-Defying Lightning.
The dwarven villages of the southwest would refuse to work with an item connected to witches.
And if he asked the elves, they would likely react with hostility, as though he were trying to provoke them.
I suppose I have no choice but to persuade the dwarves.
Perhaps if he kept negotiating, they would eventually agree to make it.
While he was considering this, a visitor arrived.
Knock.
The interval between each knock was unusually long.
Even the sound itself seemed devoid of confidence.
The door opened cautiously.
“Mr. Ferda? Are you busy?”
A terrifying dragon’s head appeared through the doorway.
It was Valdrova.
“No. I am available. Do you need mana?”
“Yes. A little more today....”
“Understood.”
They had become accustomed enough to the routine that no lengthy conversation was necessary.
She wore the towering armor of a dragon knight, standing well over two meters tall.
The only exposed part of her body was her right hand.
Ferda placed his hand against hers and began transferring mana.
It is warm, as always.
The mana flowing into her chest calmed Valdrova’s anxious heart.
She had experienced the sensation many times already, yet it was so comforting that she wanted to feel it again and again.
Perhaps because of that, she momentarily forgot why she had come.
That isn’t why I came here!
Valdrova had deliberately come all this way and taken up Ferda’s time because she had made a major decision.
Today, I want to choose the subject of our conversation.
Was that not why she had continued doing this?
Conveniently, there was something she had been curious about.
What does Mr. Ferda think of the armored knight?
Her heart fluttered.
When she thought about it, asking that was almost the same as asking what he thought of her.
I’ll ask him.
Valdrova struggled to calm her pounding heart before finally forcing the words out.
“M-Mr. Ferda!”
“Yes?”
“L-Luri mentioned something recently....”
Her pronunciation kept slipping and breaking apart.
Because of the voice-altering device, it reached Ferda as a mournful, distorted echo.
Ferda answered calmly.
“What did she mention?”
“Well... she said that a person known as the a-armored knight had been incredibly active....”
She ended up biting her tongue, instantly draining all the momentum from her voice.
“I-I heard about him....”
“Ah, that person.”
Ferda looked surprised.
He had no idea why she had suddenly become curious about such a person.
Valdrova desperately suppressed the truth that threatened to spill from her mouth.
“Luri said that he... cares very deeply about the village.”
“That is true.”
It was true.
The moment she heard that, her anxious heart rose with unexpected excitement.
“Really?”
“Before we received support from Halim, his strength played a major role. Thanks to him, we were able to construct many buildings far more quickly.”
“I-Is that so?”
He thought she had been helpful.
A needless sense of pride swelled within her.
“At first, I was worried that he might be a rebellious dissident with a tendency toward insurrection....”
“And then?”
“I realized I had been mistaken.”
A trace of hope entered Valdrova’s voice.
“Does that mean you think he is a good person?”
“He is certainly a good person.”
Valdrova felt as though she could spread her wings and flutter around the room at any moment.
“However, he also has quite a few problems.”
“...Pardon?”
That joy lasted only briefly.
Having climbed so high, it was now time to fall.
“He seems rather foolish.”
“F-Foolish?”
“Even during the recent council meeting, it was obvious that he was being manipulated by the people around him. I do not believe he is particularly intelligent.”
“That can’t be....”
“He wears a knight’s armor and keeps a vow of silence, which means written communication should be more important to him than to anyone else. Yet his handwriting is atrocious, and he cannot even spell properly....”
“....”
“A man like that is bound to ruin his life if he falls in with the wrong people. I admit that I am somewhat worried about him.”
“....”
Ferda glanced down at her hand.
“Are you all right?”
“...Y-Yes?”
“Your hand has turned bright red.”
Her hand, once pale as white jade, had become as red as a carrot.
Valdrova noticed it as well and hurriedly pulled it away.
“I-It is nothing....”
“It may be some form of rejection response. I should examine it more carefully—”
“It really is nothing! You do not need to worry about it!”
Valdrova abruptly shot to her feet.
Ferda was startled by her sudden movement.
“I think I will leave early today.”
“Have you received enough? I believe I gave you less than usual.”
“Yes. I suppose I need to use a little of my strength... for something.”
With those words, she fled the room as though escaping.
Watching her leave, Ferda realized that he had made a mistake.
I suppose speaking ill of someone behind their back truly is a poor choice.
He had thought he had softened his words considerably, but apparently he had been mistaken.
She had gone out of her way to bring up a subject and speak with him, only for him to make her uncomfortable.
I should be more careful next time.
Ferda resolved to do better when the next opportunity arose.
Valdrova returned directly to her lair.
She stepped out of her armor and immediately lay down, curling up and hugging her legs in a way she normally never did.
“Uuu....”
Valdrova let out a quiet whimper.
Her body trembled slightly.
“Master, it is Luri. I am coming in.”
Luri entered.
The first thing she saw was Valdrova curled up like a human cocoon.
“...Why are you lying like that?”
“Luriii....”
Valdrova called her name and raised her head.
Her face was as red as her hair.
Luri already knew why she was acting like this.
She had heard what the two of them had discussed.
With tears welling in her eyes, Valdrova buried her face against her small attendant’s chest.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Mr. Ferda... Mr. Ferda called me stupid....”
“....”
“Can’t you at least deny it?”
She looked up at Luri with tearful eyes, but Luri did not react.
“Did I not repeatedly tell you that you should study more?”
“You did, but... you did, buuut....”
“Besides, you have heard that plenty of times before. Is it really worth reacting like this?”
“Iorga said it, and plenty of others did too, but....”
Valdrova hugged her legs tightly and whined in a sorrowful voice.
“It hurts more because Mr. Ferda said it.”
“He did not say it directly to you, did he?”
“That makes it even worse! He only speaks kindly to me because that is how he acts. Deep down, he must think I am incredibly stupid!”
“....”
“Please deny it. I really am going to cry.”
Luri’s response only made Valdrova feel more miserable.
“You need not worry. If you make an effort, Master, I am certain he will recognize that side of you as well.”
“Do you think so?”
“Therefore....”
Luri held out two books.
—Spelling Made Easy, Even for Young Children
—A Young Lady’s Guide to Elegance: Let’s Practice Beautiful Handwriting!
“You should begin studying.”
Valdrova alternated her gaze between Luri and the two books before replying with great difficulty.
“...Okay.”
One was never too old to learn.
***
That night, Ferda had a dream.
Valdrova was there.
They were not in the castle.
It was a small house.
The sort of humble commoner’s home where Ferda had once stayed after being driven from the castle and losing all his money.
This is a dream.
It did not appear to be harmful, so Ferda decided that he would simply remain seated until he woke up.
“You’re awake?”
A beautiful voice caressed his ears.
Ferda had heard that voice only once before.
Half in disbelief, he raised his head.
Long red hair and golden eyes.
She possessed neither two pairs of horns nor narrow, slit-like pupils, and she wore plain clothing.
Even so, Ferda knew exactly who she was.
There is no mistake.
It was Valdrova.
“What’s wrong? You look unwell.”
Her hand gently stroked Ferda’s cheek.
A warmth like returning home enveloped his entire body.
When Ferda’s expression relaxed, Valdrova smiled softly.
Perhaps because he was holding her hand, the sensation of her skin felt far too vivid.
He even found himself wondering whether it would be so terrible to remain trapped in this dream forever.
“Shall we do that?”
“That...?”
When Ferda responded as though he did not understand, Valdrova smiled with her eyes, finding him adorable.
She leaned closer.
“The thing you are good at.”
Her soft hand clasped Ferda’s.
Without the slightest resistance, his hand was guided forward.
She brought it to her throat.
Ferda found himself choking her.
“Go on. Kill me.”
Ferda flinched and tried to pull his hand away.
But it would not move.
Her hands held his firmly in place, and the more he struggled, the tighter his fingers closed around her neck.
Blood flowed from her golden eyes.
Valdrova’s form melted and twisted.
—Why?
A scream erupted from her lips.
—Why did you kill me?
Countless voices swam through Ferda’s mind.
This was karma.
The karma of all the things he had done.
Karma that could not be escaped even by returning to the past.
People said karma would return to choke the one who had created it.
But Ferda’s karma was doing the opposite.
It was making him choke the person he should have loved most.
Karma knew that nothing could cause Ferda greater pain.
—Why? Why? Why?
—I did nothing wrong....
—Give me back our father!
The disorderly voices grew louder and louder.
His grip tightened around the slender neck.
And at the end of the chaos—
A dreadful silence descended.
Had he awakened from the dream?
No.
The delicate sensation of her throat remained vivid beneath his fingers.
—Ferda.
A voice emerged from within the silence.
—Now, listen to my voice again.
It was unbearably sweet.
—Remember who you are.
Ah.
I am....
Crack.
With the sound of something bending and breaking, Ferda opened his eyes.
Cold sweat poured from his body, leaving him feeling sick and unpleasant.
Yet something else was even more disturbing.
The circuit....
His Red Circle was spinning violently.
Again.
Even though these were not feelings directed toward Valdrova, the circuit within his chest was rotating with tremendous force.
Ferda forced himself upright.
He emptied his mind.
He erased everything until nothing remained.
Before long, Ferda’s Circle settled into silence.
It had been easier than he had feared.
But that very ease was disturbing in itself.
It meant that he already knew how to do it.
“Why...?”
The feeling led him toward a sense of déjà vu.
It was a familiarity that should not have existed within Ferda.
“Why does hatred remain inside me?”
Because that hatred was what had transformed Ferda into a calamity of the Ninth Circle.
This was not some absurd matter of mana fatalism.
He had truly felt it.
The circuit had truly moved.
Ferda had vaguely suspected that something like this might exist.
So what happened back then was not merely my imagination?
Abel Silverwind.
A third-rate villain who had threatened Luri and whose name was hardly worth remembering.
At that time, Ferda had claimed everything within the darkness as his own.
He had even invaded Abel’s body through that darkness and killed him on the spot.
That was not something a Fourth-Circle mage could accomplish.
Even Ferda should have found it impossible.
He recalled the sensation he had experienced then.
As though slowly turning back time, he traced his memories to the moment before Abel’s death.
—Are you just going to stand there and watch?
The voice.
It had been sweet.
It stirred everything inside his body and drew out his strength.
The power he had once possessed while consumed by rage.
Even after time was reversed, is that still inside me?
The power that had killed his family.
The power that had killed innocent people.
The power that had killed even the person he now loved.
That power remained inside Ferda.
He was confused.
This was fundamentally different from being bound by a vague belief in mana fatalism.
Back then, he had possessed only an indistinct fear.
This time, he had evidence.
Knock, knock, knock.
The sound of someone knocking on the bedroom door interrupted his thoughts.
Luri entered.
“Lord Ferda.”
“Why are you here?”
Irritation seeped into his voice before he realized it.
“A guest has arrived.”
“I have no intention of receiving visitors today. Send them away.”
“They said they were acquainted with you, so I came to ask first.”
“Someone I know?”
Who would come all the way here to meet him personally?
The names of countless people whirled through his mind.
The name that emerged from Luri’s mouth, however, belonged to someone entirely unexpected.
“Your father, Erembalt Rosnova.”
The origin of the hatred he carried.