Chapter 21

**Chapter 22: You, Too, Want to Believe**

*Grrrr—.*

A deep, scraping snarl reverberated from the darkest recess of the sanctuary.

To an outsider, the noise would have induced sheer terror—the terrifying vibration of raw, untamed fury. Yet Ruri, standing motionlessly near the entryway, recognized the harrowing reality behind the sound.

It was Valdrova’s cry of distress.

She was suffering terribly.

The great beast, normally resting with sovereign grace, was collapsed upon the freezing stone ground. Her sharp talons clawed uselessly across the rock while severe spasms rocked her enormous body.

—*Ruri…*

Valdrova addressed her attendant, her voice thin, frail, and ragged.

Maintaining her practiced poise, Ruri answered softly, “I am here, Master.”

—*Are there… still no beasts… to hunt today?*

Ruri tipped her head down in sorrow. “Unfortunately, there are none.”

—*So be it… Then another grueling ordeal begins…*

Valdrova struggled to raise her head. A suffocating haze clouded her thoughts, blinding her senses completely. Seeking any small distraction from the agony, she forced herself to ask another question.

—*What is… Our betrothed occupied with?*

“He is currently meeting with the nobility of the Archduchy,” Ruri replied. “Though it resembles an interrogation rather than a formal gathering. He warned them that any display of incompetence will be reported directly to your attention.”

—*Understood. He seems to be managing effectively.*

A subtle, melancholic expression passed over Valdrova’s tormented face—a mixture of warmth and sorrow that Ruri had never witnessed prior to Ferda’s arrival.

“It appears Lord Ferda is aware,” Ruri remarked quietly.

Valdrova’s posture grew tense. —*Aware of what?*

“That you are inflicting harm upon yourself, Master. The castle trembled from the force of your blows last evening. I believe he has deduced your actions.”

—*Is that so?*

“Therefore… I urge you to be more cautious.”

—*Yes. We appreciate the warning.*

Valdrova turned away, sinking back into the heavy blackness of her den.

—*You have served faithfully. Leave Us now.*

“…As you wish, Master.”

Ruri gave a brief bow and stepped back, each step feeling overwhelmingly heavy. She knew precisely what was about to unfold. The grand creature would soon unleash the unbearable, uncontainable power upon her own flesh.

—*Ruri.*

Valdrova called out once more.

“Yes, Master.”

—*Under no circumstance… are you to permit Our betrothed inside. This… is an absolute decree.*

Though her tone held regal authority, a profound grief weighed heavily upon her words. Ruri recognized the shadow lingering over her lady: the lingering memory of the 3rd Prince still tormented her spirit.

“I will obey.”

The devoted retainer had no choice but to comply.

—

In the quiet depths of the night, Ruri remained planted outside the sanctum’s heavy doors like a sentinel of stone.

—*Krawaaaaa!*

A muffled, agonized cry reached her ears. Ruri clenched her hands together, pressing hard enough to keep herself from trembling.

*I must not shield my ears.*

Ruri detested that cry. It carried no ferocious battle fervor; it was the broken, hopeless lament of an individual stripped of everything. For a dedicated subordinate, witnessing her ruler’s agony was an unbearable torment.

*Even if I step inside, I am entirely powerless.*

Ruri had always dedicated herself to flawlessness. She maintained Valdrova Castle in immaculate order, constantly prepared for its ruler. She tracked shifting political currents and societal fashions to ensure her mistress would remain knowledgeable upon her reemergence. Every waking breath was dedicated to Valdrova.

*Yet… some things remain beyond my grasp.*

She could not withstand the terrifying killing intent her mistress projected. All Ruri could do was wait for the destructive frenzy to subside before entering to bind the wounds. She possessed no means to halt the violence beforehand.

—*Krawaaaaa!*

The screech resounded once more, sharper and more anguished than before.

*Thus, I must endure listening.*

This was the penance for a helpless retainer who could only watch her sovereign endure agony. Unconsciously, Ruri’s clasped hands had drifted upward into a familiar gesture.

*A supplication…?*

The concept was nonsensical. Dragon Spawn did not bow to unseen deities; their living gods were the dragons themselves. The supreme rulers of the lands, the Aspects—they served as their tangible deities.

Ruri was no different. Silverwind, who had granted her his essence, had been a god, just as Valdrova was her deity.

One had perished, and the other was incapacitated.

Ruri silently questioned herself: *To whom could I possibly direct my plea?*

No answer came. She could only send an unspoken wish into the void to a god she did not acknowledge.

*I beg of you. Let someone free my mistress from this agony.*

Just then, a voice broke the stillness.

“What are you doing standing here?”

Startled from her thoughts, Ruri raised her eyes. Pale moonlight bathed the corridor, outlining a familiar silhouette.

It was the very mortal who had boldly woven himself into her lady’s existence.

“Turn back,” she commanded with biting chill.

“I cannot do that. My destination lies directly beyond your post.”

The man, who had stayed quiet over the past few days, was suddenly demanding entry. He clearly understood that Valdrova was in torment.

*He perceived the noise? When even my sharp senses could barely detect it?*

Puzzled by how an ordinary human could have registered such a faint sound, she hardened her response.

“Entry is forbidden. It is the direct decree of my sovereign.”

“Did the Archduchess explicitly order you to bar my path?”

“She did. She stated clearly that she has no desire to gaze upon a mortal such as you.”

Ruri included words that had never been uttered, driven by the storm of anxiety in her heart.

“I yielded yesterday, so step aside today,” Ferda countered.

“This is not a matter for negotiation.”

“I am not attempting to bargain.”

Ferda took an assertive step forward.

“Halt right there.”

An unnatural sheen, glowing like the moon, ignited within Ruri’s silvery gaze. Pure gusts of bladed wind began dancing violently around her form. Ferda immediately grasped the danger—should those currents brush against him, his flesh would be severed as effortlessly as autumn grass.

“I have the means to halt it,” Ferda declared.

“And what delusion makes you think you can stop anything?”

“Your sovereign’s—and my betrothed’s—self-destruction.”

Ruri’s eyes widened slightly before she masked her surprise behind a cool facade.

“This dilemma cannot be unraveled so simply. How could a frail mortal like you hope to overpower the intrinsic nature of a dragon?”

“It can be done.”

“No, you merely convince yourself of what you wish to see.”

“Indeed, I fixate on what I desire and pursue it relentlessly.” He advanced another step. “Is that not the essence of living?”

“I warned you to halt!”

The sharp squall swirling around Ruri’s forearm surged directly toward Ferda’s right arm. His limb snapped backward with a sickening thud, hanging broken and limp. Ruri stood frozen in sudden shock.

*I meant only to push him back with a light strike…*

At the final instant, she had stripped the cutting edge from the gale, converting it into a blunt impact intended merely to leave a bruise.

“Do you understand now?” Ruri pressed, hoping the demonstration proved she was far beyond his ability to challenge. “I possess the strength to strike you down myself. Consider this my final forbearance. Depart peacefully.”

Ferda cast a glance at his broken shoulder. “…Is an order truly of such paramount importance?”

“I am a subordinate. It is my absolute obligation to carry out my lady’s commands.”

“Understood.”

When Ferda raised his eyes once more, Ruri felt an involuntary shiver. He moved forward, taking measured, deliberate steps.

“In that case, ensure that you truly sever my flesh on the next attempt.”

His azure gaze burned with an unwavering resolve. Ruri gathered her wind blades once again.

“Cease throwing your existence away on a futile endeavor.”

“You state that without grasping the significance of what I intend to accomplish.”

“You are merely a human. How could someone like you unravel a mystery that dragons failed to master across endless eras of study?”

It defied all reason. A mortal could never match an immortal existence. They were fleeting beings easily crushed without effort. A mortal’s purpose was to accept the charity of greater beings with humility. How could such a fragile creature resolve an immortal’s torment?

“Did I not inquire of you before? Whether you thought a human could attain sudden revelation?”

“And what response did you receive?”

She recalled it vividly, yet refused to speak the words. Ferda supplied them for her.

“You stated that humanity persisted because they possess flashes of understanding that raw accumulation of lore can never replicate.”

Once more, he turned her own reasoning against her. Ferda had closed the distance, standing a mere three paces away. Should she strike, his arm would be cleanly severed. There was no room left to hold back.

Ruri’s hands began to shake. The lethal gale encircling her dissolved quietly into the air.

“Why…?” Ruri looked up into his face, her expression stripped of all disdain and detachment. “Why do you continue to advance?”

She appeared as fragile and lost as a child.

“The reason is straightforward.” Ferda laid his hand gently upon Ruri’s head. “If you truly intended to prevent my entry, you would have done so immediately.”

Ruri’s physical power far exceeded his frail constitution. Subduing him or tossing him aside before he could approach would have been effortless. Rather than brandishing wind magic and arguing, she could have simply overpowered him.

“You, too, wished to trust in my conviction.”

The prospect of a miracle wrought by mortal hands.

Ferda bypassed Ruri and descended the stairs. Left without a counterargument, she merely watched his retreat. The rhythmic strike of his boots gradually echoed away into the corridor.

*Damn, this agony is sharp.*

His arm flared with intense pain from Ruri’s strike. The force had traveled straight to the joint, popping his shoulder entirely out of alignment.

*I have endured dislocations many times before.*

Resetting displaced joints was familiar territory. Ferda grasped his displaced arm and pulled with sharp force.

*Snap!*

“Ugh… hah…”

He took a steadying breath to reclaim his composure. There was still a task ahead. Looking upward, the colossal iron gates loomed before him.

*The pressure here… is entirely different from before.*

Ferda recalled his first arrival before these very doors. At that time, he was powerless and had not yet tasted the binding engagement wine. Yet the current aura felt far more suffocating, resembling the thresholds of the abyss.

Crossing into this chamber felt like stepping into certain demise.

—*Krawaaaaa!*

A terrible cry pierced straight into his core. Ceasing to fear dragons did not diminish the overwhelming weight of their murderous aura.

*A presence truly worthy of the Aspect of Power.*

Ferda pushed through the side entryway and stepped inside. The space opened like a vast, natural cavern—dry, vast, and swallowed in impenetrable dark.

—*Ruri… why did you return? We commanded you to remai—*

The words halted abruptly. The dragon realized someone other than Ruri had crossed the threshold. The heavy rustle of her massive scales shifted within the shadows.

—*Why… are you standing here?*

The ruler’s tone was heavy with confusion.

—*Why… must you appear during an hour like this?*

Ferda spoke up. “I will not offer pleasantries like ‘it is good to see you.'” He stared intently into the pitch-black void, his mortal vision unable to pierce the gloom. “My human sight cannot distinguish your form in this darkness.”

—*Leave Our presence this instant!*

A thunderous roar saturated with Dragon Fear shook the cavern walls. Yet the oppressive force failed to make Ferda waver.

“My Lady, I have uncovered a method to relieve your torment.”

—*It is unnecessary. Who requested such interference from you?*

Ferda took another pace forward. The scraping sound of Valdrova recoiling echoed in the dark; she was retreating from him.

—*We… We harbor no desire to bring you harm. Therefore, draw no nearer!*

Valdrova pleaded desperately.

“I cannot grant that request,” Ferda answered firmly.

—*We beg of you…*

“I care little for who bleeds or falls,” Ferda continued.

—*Do not approach…*

“Yet I refuse to stand idly by while you tear yourself apart.”

Two golden irises ignited within the shadows.

—*WE COMMANDED YOU TO STAY BACK!!*

Her pent-up primal power erupted violently. Accompanied by a ferocious snarl, a massive form surged forward through the gloom. It was Valdrova’s great claw, hurtling directly toward the fragile mortal.

*CRASH!*

The massive talon struck the ground where Ferda stood.

—*Ah!*

Valdrova regained her clarity an instant too late. The blow had landed.

—*No… ah…*

A broken whimper escaped Valdrova. The phantom of the 3rd Prince seemed to whisper in her mind: *You have slaughtered another betrothed.*

Her consciousness collapsed into despair. The voice of the ancient Red Dragon Valdrova, a sovereign who had commanded the skies for ages, shook with raw grief.

—*We… We never intended to…*

The volatile crimson power that had surged toward Ferda now turned inward, lashing at her own essence. Her self-hatred was triggering a total, violent frenzy.

Yet through the gloom, she caught sight of a figure standing unhurt beside her talons.

It was Ferda. He remained completely composed, looking down calmly at her massive claw.

“You have my gratitude,” he murmured. “I did not expect you to extend your hand before I even asked.”

The exact opportunity Ferda had sought had finally presented itself. He pressed his palm directly against Valdrova’s skin.

—

—*There exists a logical principle allowing you to assume the name of Ferda Valdrova.*

Mori had broken down the theory for him.

—*Lord Ferda, you awakened your Red Circle by channeling your sentiments toward the Red Dragon Valdrova. Is that not so?*

“That is correct.”

—*The Blue Circle is termed ‘stable mana’ because it lends uniform efficiency to all spellcraft. By comparison, the Red Circle is attuned toward specific domains, its potency shifting dramatically based on the nature of the magic and the underlying intent. This occurs because the mana carries emotional resonance rather than absolute purity.*

He had long understood that concept. It was the very reason his destructive arts surpassed those of conventional sorcerers.

—*The Red Circle typically feeds upon volatile emotions. For that reason, direct exposure to such mana is strictly cautioned against.*

“Due to the risk of mental corruption.”

Mori had affirmed with a nod.

—*If your energy is shaped by your genuine sentiments toward the dragon, I believe channeling that very mana back into her will trigger a profound reaction.*

Ferda had found the idea outlandish at the time: *Resolving this through mana born from feelings I can scarcely comprehend myself?*

“Is there truly no alternative approach?”

Mori had given a definitive shake of her head. Only a single path lay before him.

“Understood…”

He had no choice other than to place his trust in that lone theory.

—

Ferda unleashed his power. Pouring every shred of his focus into the effort, he drove the mana from his fingertips directly into Valdrova’s flesh.

—*What are you attempting?*

Even as the question left her, Valdrova perceived an unfamiliar current rushing across her interior vessels. As that counter-flow surged into her core, her golden eyes dilated in shock.

—*This… what is happening?*

Valdrova’s speech, once strained by agony, grew remarkably steady.

—*The turmoil within Us… the scorching heat… it is dispersing. Ferda, what have you done?*

“I cannot say for certain,” Ferda replied in a low voice, gently cutting off her queries. “However, if it brings you relief, simply allow my mana to flow freely.”

—*Very well…*

Valdrova focused on the transformation unfolding inside her form. The frantic thumping of her pulse steadied. The untamed crimson energy began to recede. The destructive impulses defining her very nature smoothed out beneath an overwhelming sense of calm.

*The theory proved accurate.*

The power radiating from Ferda’s Red Circle possessed the property to pacify Valdrova’s berserk energy.

*I truly possess a way to aid her.*

If her inner tempest could be restrained, she would no longer be forced to tear at her own flesh.

*And… she will no longer have to suffer.*

She would never again need to summon past grief just to punish herself.

*To guarantee her recovery… I must channel every ounce of mana I possess.*

Within Ferda’s Dantian, the Red Circle spun with frantic velocity. Mana surged forth at an unprecedented rate, and Ferda poured every droplet of that energy unhesitatingly into Valdrova’s body.

—*Ferda!*

Valdrova shouted in panic.

—*Blood is falling from your face!*

A crimson stream dripped down from Ferda’s nose. He was crossing into severe magical exhaustion.

—*Desist immediately! We are stabilized!*

Under normal circumstances, Ferda would have pulled back, but not on this night.

*Just a little longer…*

He wrung out every remaining trace of energy, offering everything he had. He refused to relent until her balance was completely secured, even if the strain claimed his life.

“Ah…”

The inevitable backlash finally struck. His sight dissolved into a heavy, impenetrable blur. Strained far beyond the boundaries of his endurance, Ferda understood he would remain bedridden for days to come.

*My choice was already made.*

He held not a single regret regarding this reckless determination. Resigned to the fatigue, Ferda prepared to let darkness claim his vision.

Right at that instant.

The massive surface beneath his fingers began to shift and reshape itself. The tactile sensation conveyed an astonishing reality.

*Is she shrinking?*

It was no trick of his fading senses. The coarse, impenetrable dragon scales were softening and contracting. The enormous form grew smaller and smaller until it mirrored the shape of a delicate hand.

*It is tiny.*

A hand so delicate that it could not even close around Ferda’s fingers.

*And so tender.*

The unexpected touch made his heart thud wildly.

*She has assumed human form.*

The moment had arrived where he could finally look upon her true visage.

“Why…?”

A clear, sweet voice, trembling with overwhelming sentiment, reached his ears. She sounded as though she were on the brink of weeping.

“Why refuse to heed my words…?”

It was a vulnerable plea, entirely unlike the terrifying ruler Valdrova. Yet despite her words, the sound barely registered in Ferda’s fading awareness. His mind stood at the very precipice of unconsciousness, his vision clinging to life by a thread.

What anchored his fading spirit was an unyielding desire.

*No matter the cost…*

A deep, personal longing took hold.

*I must look upon her.*

Gathering the final fragments of his strength, Ferda grasped the small hand resting against his. He entwined his fingers securely with hers so their bond would not break, then reached forward to draw her close by the waist.

Through the parting haze of his sight, a maiden with flowing crimson hair appeared before him.

“Ah.”

A quiet breath slipped past Ferda’s lips. That single sound carried the entirety of his unspoken emotions: a profound apology for his limited and arrogant assumptions, paired with overwhelming wonder at discovering an elegance far beyond anything he had ever imagined.

“At last, I behold you,” Ferda breathed softly, a gentle smile gracing his features. “It is truly an honor… my heart.”