Chapter 115
Not Anger
The battle began.
Ferda formed magic circles above his hand.
Three circles appeared at evenly spaced intervals.
“Lightning Bolt.”
He fired a bullet of lightning.
The element renowned for its overwhelming speed shot from Ferda’s hand and streaked toward Lucy.
“What a shallow trick.”
Lucy was a seasoned witch who had fought countless battles.
Predicting that Ferda would use Lightning Bolt, she raised a wall of vines to block its path.
Bang!
The bolt struck the barrier directly.
But that was not the end of it.
“Oh?”
Although she had blocked the Lightning Bolt, what burst from within it were clusters of mana spheres with physical mass.
They scattered and engulfed Lucy.
“An interesting technique.”
Lucy did not evade.
The spheres embedded themselves densely across her body, yet she did not so much as blink.
“To think you can construct three spells without assistance and even modify their applications.”
Ferda’s skill was enough to surprise Lucy.
A wielder of the Blue Circle would normally have reached the Fifth Circle by the time they could display such finesse.
“You extracted only the property of speed required for Lightning Bolt. A method of enclosing smaller spheres inside a larger one. I know there is a magic circle capable of producing that…”
As though realizing something, she snapped her fingers.
“Do not tell me you assembled it manually?”
“You talk too much, Mistress of the Pavilion.”
“Does that not simply mean I have the leisure to do so?”
“That is true.”
And she was about to be struck for it.
A black explosion erupted beneath Lucy and distorted the surrounding space.
Darkness.
The most powerful of all existing elements.
A Dark Bolt had manifested directly below her.
The head that had already been pierced was utterly destroyed by the spell, and the Lucy Philiase visible before him died instantly.
—Hehehe. Impressive.
Lucy Philiase’s voice echoed throughout the entire garden.
The body that should have lost all vitality moved like a broken doll and took a step forward.
The moment it did, her ruined flesh returned to normal as though nothing had ever happened.
“You used Barbatos’s shadow art to catch your opponent off guard. A fine strategy, but it lacks depth, child.”
“You are the one asking for depth?”
Those were bold words for someone who had attacked a mere Fourth-Circle mage and forced him into a fight.
Rather than responding, Lucy merely smiled in amusement.
“Yes. Struggle as hard as you can to defeat this maiden.”
Lucy attacked Ferda with thorny tendrils, while Ferda fought back as a mage, employing a wide range of spells and methods.
He already knew.
No matter what he did, defeating Lucy was impossible.
Even the impression that they were somewhat evenly matched existed only because Lucy was controlling the fight, allowing him to believe she was merely a little stronger.
“At this rate, we shall never finish.”
Lucy let out a long yawn, sounding bored.
“It seems this maiden’s sincerity has not properly reached you, so I shall tell you once more.”
A powerful aura erupted from Lucy.
“If you lose here, I shall violate your fiancée.”
“You insane bitch…”
The curse slipped from his mouth.
Lucy smiled with satisfaction at the sight of Ferda losing his composure.
“Child, do you know what it means for one woman to violate another? It is on an entirely different level from what a man can do. She can be turned into a slave to pleasure in an instant. How fascinating would it be to do that to a dragon?”
Whether her words were true no longer mattered to Ferda.
He could not tolerate the insults spilling from her mouth.
Ferda changed his approach.
He resolved to fight even if it meant exhausting every last drop of mana.
Even then, however, he could not defeat her.
Though he had killed Lucy once before, this was little different from smashing an egg against a boulder.
Ferda already understood her purpose.
She is trying to force out my hidden cards.
Every mage possessed a final trump card.
It might be a means of escape, a decisive strike, or even a method of mutual destruction.
Some techniques were kept secret so fiercely that their owners would rather die than reveal them.
That was precisely what Lucy was attempting to draw out.
She was breaking down Ferda’s convictions and reason, pushing him to reveal everything he possessed.
And despite knowing that, Ferda had no choice but to play along.
He could not dismiss Lucy’s threat lightly.
Even if she had spoken in jest, if Ferda failed to show his sincerity, that joke might become reality.
That was the nature of witches.
Ferda poured everything he had into the battle, yet eventually reached the brink of mana exhaustion.
“Is that all?”
Lucy’s veil had been torn apart, and one of her eyes had been destroyed.
Her body was a complete wreck, but the moment she took a single step, it returned to its original state.
Breathing heavily, Ferda asked her,
“Are you satisfied?”
“Satisfied? Do you believe this maiden went to all this trouble for her own satisfaction?”
Lucy sneered.
“I have explained myself so earnestly, yet it is unfortunate that my sincerity still has not reached you. Valdrova truly seems destined to live a miserable life.”
Do not speak my fiancée’s name with that mouth.
Ferda wanted to say it, but he could not.
After fighting this hard, all he felt was helplessness.
If he could be toyed with so easily by another person, how could he ever save her?
You cannot save anyone.
So show her who you truly are.
A circuit began turning inside Ferda’s chest.
A sweet voice whispered to him.
Show her your true self.
“Shut up.”
Ferda resisted the voice.
Yet it slipped through the cracks left by his helplessness and attempted to consume his mind.
The pleasure of once more surrendering himself to hatred sought to violate him.
Ferda made his decision faster than ever before.
Rather than submit…
He formed a magic circle.
I would sooner die.
It was aimed at his own chest.
“Dark Bolt.”
A black sphere shot toward his heart.
Whoosh!
But the only sound was that of something slicing through empty air.
Ferda’s wrist had been forced upward.
A small hand was wrapped around it.
“…What an incomprehensible thing to do.”
A girl with black hair and red eyes stared at him in bewilderment.
Her eyes resembled polished rubies, and the faint scent of lilacs drifted from her.
It was the face of the Mistress of the Pavilion—a face ordinary men would never be permitted to see even once.
Ferda wondered why it had been revealed.
Then he saw the black veil fluttering behind her.
The Dark Bolt had grazed past her head and torn it away.
Ferda looked into her eyes and asked,
“Are you satisfied now, Mistress of the Pavilion?”
Ferda glared fiercely at her.
Driven to the brink by mana exhaustion and the strain of resisting the voice in his mind, he no longer had the composure to control his expression.
“That expression alone is quite satisfying.”
An adult smile appeared on her childlike face.
She placed her right hand against Ferda’s chest.
Something flowed into him through his heart.
The sense of depletion that had been causing his splitting headache began to fade.
She was replenishing the mana he lacked, restoring enough of it for Ferda’s mind to become clear again.
“I apologize for forcing you into a battle you did not want. However, child, this maiden needed to test you.”
“What kind of test?”
“What lies within here.”
She pointed at Ferda’s heart.
“Did I not tell you that these eyes see many things?”
“You did.”
“As it happens, these eyes can see what composes your mana. Normally, I pay no attention to it because such power is scarcely worth noticing. You, however, overturned that assumption.”
“What is inside my heart?”
“Something foreign.”
“Foreign?”
“Something that does not belong with the person you are now.”
Her tone became unusually serious.
“Yet it was unquestionably created by you. It is something that can never coexist with those of us who possess Red Circles.”
“Is that why you provoked me?”
“Yes. I needed to drive you into a corner before you became conscious of the reason yourself.”
Her gesture suggested that she had harbored no other intention.
And in truth, what could Lucy possibly want from Ferda?
Lucy Philiase.
Mistress of the Rose Pavilion.
Big Sister to all witches.
The most powerful mage among them.
At the same time, she was an authority on Red Circles.
For now, that alone was sufficient explanation.
“So, child, can you tell me what it is?”
Ferda could not bring himself to answer easily.
He knew there was no point concealing it after falling for her scheme.
Even so, it was one of his deepest shames.
“Do not tremble. Speak. We are practically husband and wife already, are we not?”
“…What?”
Ferda’s expression went completely cold.
Lucy grinned at the sight.
“Hahaha! You removed my veil, so does that not mean the groom has seen the bride’s face?”
“Stop talking nonsense.”
“You are truly enjoyable to tease. There is a rather adorable side to you.”
She covered her laughing mouth with one hand.
Her crescent-shaped eyes gleamed mischievously.
“Now that the joke has eased the mood, answer me.”
Ferda was irritated, but the pressure from before was gone.
Just as she had said, the atmosphere had relaxed.
“This is…”
The emotion with which he had killed countless people.
Killed his family.
Killed his fiancée.
“My anger.”
He felt like a penitent confessing his sins.
Lucy stared silently at him after hearing the answer.
“Think again.”
Her response was not what Ferda had expected.
“Why?”
“Why else? Because it is not your anger.”
No.
It was anger.
Considering when he had heard that voice, there could be no other answer.
When Luri had been threatened and forced to submit.
And when Ferda had nearly killed his father, Erembalt Rosnova, with his own hands.
If that was not anger, then what was it?
“Think again. There must be something that caused you to mistake it for anger.”
At her words, Ferda went back through his memories.
Like someone discarding an answer already decided upon and searching for a new one, he focused on the sensation.
He revisited the moment in his dream when he had tried to kill Valdrova.
Ferda asked himself,
Was the emotion I felt then truly anger?
No.
It was not.
What he had gained from killing her was emptiness.
It was the emotion that had sent him back into the past.
Then was it emptiness?
That was not the answer either.
Following the thread of that clue, Ferda moved closer to the truth.
Then something astonishing happened.
The thing that had always escaped his grasp, no matter how hard he tried to perceive it, gradually began taking shape.
This emotion had existed before his love for her.
Something that faintly asserted its existence with every beat of his heart.
At last, Ferda called it by its proper name.
“Regret.”
Yes.
It was regret.
The voice behind his anxiety was the regret Ferda carried within him.
The ashes left behind after he had burned everything on earth.
Those ashes had remained lodged in one corner of his heart.
“So that is what it was.”
Ferda did not get the chance to ask anything.
Lucy moved first.
“Was your love also born from that regret?”
Ferda nodded.
“I know. It is disgusting.”
Lucy raised one eyebrow and stared at him.
“I do not know what misunderstanding you are under, but this maiden does not find it disgusting, child.”
“Your tone suggested otherwise.”
“That is merely your imagination. Why would there be any reason to despise such a feeling? Had you not possessed it, do you truly believe you would ever have come to know Valdrova?”
Ferda could answer immediately.
There was no chance he would have.
Ferda had only begun to truly understand Valdrova after killing her.
Before then, he had condemned her as an evil dragon deserving of death.
When he marched against her, he had cheered that her death would end the age of dragons and usher in the age of humanity.
He had never once listened to her voice.
Yet at that moment, he could almost hear it with painful clarity.
“Valdrova is truly a wretched woman. The good dared not approach her, while those who sought to exploit her gathered in droves. She has been remarkably unfortunate in the people around her.”
“…”
“And she is needlessly timid. The embodiment of fire and power, possessing enough might to tear apart every monster that swarms the Far East, yet she has never once asserted her authority. In that sense, she has brought misfortune upon herself as well.”
Valdrova had never once reigned above anyone.
The current aristocratic order was filled with people who knew that she defended the Far East out of guilt and took advantage of it.
Her refusal to assert authority or claim what belonged to her resembled the behavior of a coward afraid of causing trouble.
“She is not timid.”
Ferda refuted her almost immediately.
“If she is not timid, then what is she?”
“She behaves that way because she is stronger than anyone.”
To Ferda, it had nothing to do with fear.
He had once been the worst mage on the continent.
Revenge had not been the only reason he became that way.
Whenever he prepared for his endless vengeance, he had constantly guarded against ambushes.
He deprived himself of sleep and surrounded himself with barriers, spending his days consumed by paranoia.
He had been both an avenger and a coward.
He needed a means of guaranteed victory, and when he lacked one, he never hesitated to act dishonorably.
That was why Ferda knew.
Had Valdrova truly been a coward, she would have ruled over others.
She would have done so until she could shatter even the sky above her head.
Lucy watched him quietly for a while before speaking.
“Your head.”
“Lower your head toward me.”
Ferda hesitated before leaning down.
Lucy rose onto her tiptoes and tried to place a hand on his head.
“…Even this is not enough. It cannot be helped.”
Lucy grabbed Ferda’s body, pulled him closer, and embraced his head.
She began stroking him as though comforting a child.
“There, there.”
“What is this…”
“Shh. Be quiet. It would be a shame to ruin such a pleasant mood.”
Her unexpected behavior left Ferda unable even to ask what she was doing.
“Child, you amuse this maiden. It has been a very long time since speaking with a man made me feel such fresh, youthful delight.”
After enjoying the moment for nearly five minutes, she finally released him.
“Is it not proper to reward a good child?”
Lucy looked up at him, her face filled with delight.
“Those two emotions within you will instead become a blessing.”