Chapter 3
Chapter 3: What I Want
“There is nothing beneath the heavens that the Empire cannot tame.”
Such was the proud maxim proclaimed by the Arken Empire, a dominion exerting its vast authority from the Central Region nestled at the heart of the Serdes Continent.
While that proclamation stirred the hearts of citizens dwelling securely within imperial borders, to the folk living along the wild frontiers, it sounded like nothing more than empty bravado. Indeed, during the years Ferda spent growing up under House Rosnova, the very first lesson drilled into him was that such imperial claims were complete nonsense.
Sprawling tracts across Serdes remained utterly untouched by the Empire’s reach, with the East standing as the most glaring testament.
The Land of Demons.
That eastern territory had been warped into a nightmare flooded with fiendish vitality ever since the emergence of a Demon King. Even though the calamitous entity had eventually been vanquished, the leftover taint caused the vegetation to proliferate with grotesque speed while driving the local beasts into extreme savagery. Thus was forged the forsaken frontier remembered as the Land of Demons.
And holding dominion over the absolute front lines of that cursed wilderness was Valdrova.
‘Is that the origin behind her title as the Demon Dragon?’
Whatever reality lay beneath the tales, she was widely painted as a ruthless and bloodthirsty monster. Whispers claimed she harvested the lingering malevolence of the fallen Demon King to swell her own power, or that she was secretly amassing a legion of horrors in the shadows.
‘Her terrifying reputation vastly eclipses anything she actually did.’
Slanderous rumors routinely branded her as an abomination worthy of execution, yet not a single soul possessed the nerve to openly challenge or condemn her. Even the most reckless fool understood that disturbing a dragon’s domain was an invitation to a swift demise.
Rustle—.
The quiet scrape of movement through the brush reached his ears. The instant Ferda shifted his attention toward the noise—
“You need not concern yourself,” the uniformed girl walking ahead remarked without looking back. “As long as you walk in my company, no creature lurking out there will dare lay a claw on you.”
It seemed predators were indeed trailing their steps. That aside, he wondered if the girl possessed a second pair of eyes behind her head.
‘Then again, she serves a dragon.’
Ferda quietly studied her back as they walked. She possessed a delicate, doll-like countenance. Her neatly tailored maid uniform outlined the slender frame of an adolescent girl still in the middle of her growth, while her hair, swept up into a high side ponytail, softened her features into that of an elegant young noblewoman. Had they crossed paths anywhere outside of Valdrova’s domain, he would have simply assumed she was an attractive household maid.
“May I ask your name?”
“I am Ruri,” she answered flatly.
“A pleasure, Ruri. How much farther must we travel on foot?”
“Approximately two hours remain.”
“A rather lengthy trek. It certainly did not seem to take you that long to find me earlier.”
“Naturally. Had I been traveling alone, ten seconds would have been more than sufficient to bridge the distance.”
Two hours compared to ten seconds. The contrast in sheer capability was absurd.
“In that case, why not employ that very method so we can arrive at the lair immediately?”
“Would that not require me to physically carry you, Lord Ferda?”
“There is no need to worry about my comfort. I am quite capable of handling a brief flight.”
“No. I simply have no desire to hold you.”
Her reply was laced with blunt disrespect. Under normal circumstances, had a domestic servant in a maid’s uniform dared to speak in such a manner to an aristocrat, she would have received an immediate strike across the cheek.
“If it is against your wishes, then there is nothing to be done.”
Ferda, however, did not lose his composure. Plenty of arrogant nobles had met untimely ends in foreign territories simply because their pride refused to bend, but the true reason for his patience lay in her nature.
‘A Dragon Spawn.’
These beings were born through an Ascension Ceremony, chosen directly by a dragon to partake of its crimson essence. Merely inheriting that draconic blood granted them an instinctive grasp of magic alongside overwhelming physical might. Despite her petite stature, she possessed enough raw strength to effortlessly crush a dozen armored knights.
‘Furthermore, she is capable of concealing both her horns and tail…’
Such an ability indicated that her power existed on an entirely different plane compared to regular Dragon Spawn. With that realization in mind, Ferda continued onward behind her in silence.
Even keeping up proved a punishing ordeal for Ferda, whose current physical conditioning was wretchedly poor. His pace gradually deteriorated, allowing the gap between himself and Ruri to steadily widen. Once the distance became substantial, Ruri finally turned back to look at him.
“Are your legs giving out?”
Ferda gave a weary nod. “Indeed they are. Would it be possible to pause for a brief respite?”
“There is no time to squander on rest. Keep walking.”
Her hair shone like polished silver, matching the hue of her eyes. Contrary to her girlish appearance, her silver Death Eyes radiated an ominous gleam, compelling Ferda to force his legs forward.
“Whew… very well.”
Ferda dragged air into his burning lungs as best he could. Securing a marriage was turning out to be an arduous venture.
The sanctuary of the Red Dragon—the cavernous haven known as her lair—rested a considerable distance beyond the established imperial border.
Past a thick, untamed forest rose an isolated mountain of imposing height. Perched halfway up its craggy slope stood a fortress so colossal that its grand silhouette could easily be spotted from leagues away under a clear sky.
‘There were many who mistakenly assumed that fortress to be Valdrova’s true abode.’
Yet Valdrova did not reside inside the castle walls. The entire mountain itself served as her lair. Upon arriving at the cavernous entrance, Ruri turned around and issued a series of offhand instructions.
“The passage ahead is rather dim, though the floor is reasonably flat, so pray do not make an unnecessary fuss.”
“Understood.”
“Also… stalactites occasionally break loose from above. You will have to dodge them yourself. Assuming you possess the reflexes to manage it, of course.”
Her warning sounded utterly dismissive. Rather than taking the bait, Ferda merely offered a simple nod.
“I will keep that in mind.”
“Follow me, then.”
Resuming her position at the front, Ruri stepped into the cavern. Before long, their advance was barred by a towering iron gate. It was a massive, unadorned slab of metal devoid of any decorative engravings, resembling a sealing barrier forged solely to ensure that whatever lurked behind it remained firmly locked away.
Ruri stepped forward and rapped lightly against the surface.
“Master. Your prospective fiancé has arrived.”
No spoken answer drifted back. Instead, a colossal shift in mass shook the earth on the other side, sending deep tremors through the stone beneath their boots. The tiny hairs along Ferda’s skin stood on end. Even through the dense metal barrier, the oppressive, terrifying aura of a true dragon bore down on him with absolute clarity.
Thump—.
The dull sound of an impact tapped against the inner face of the iron gate. Ruri turned her gaze back toward Ferda.
“I shall enter to receive her words.”
Ruri unlatched a modest door set into the flank of the massive gate and slipped inside. A heavy, suffocating silence settled beyond the barrier while Ferda waited patiently. Exactly three minutes later, the door creaked open, and Ruri reappeared.
“I shall now convey the decree of the Archduchess of Valdrova.”
Clearing her throat lightly, Ruri began to recite the message:
“I am well aware that you have traveled to this distant realm to enter a betrothal with me under the imperial mandate of Arken. I must commend your bravery for daring to step into this domain despite being fully conscious of the dreadful deeds attributed to my name.”
Ferda felt a subtle pang of foreboding. Given the diplomatic phrasing, a harsh refusal was almost certainly on the horizon. His intuition proved entirely accurate.
“Even so, I harbor no desire to bind you to a forced engagement against your will. Therefore, turn back and return to your homeland.”
To any ordinary man convinced he was marching toward his own execution, such words would have sounded like the sweetest salvation imaginable. A chance to walk away unharmed. Had it been the Ferda of his foolish early years, he would have bowed profusely in gratitude and fled without looking back.
Yet the man standing here now was different.
“Is that her stance? Return inside and tell her this.”
Ruri’s delicate brow twitched in mild surprise.
“While it is true the Emperor decreed this arrangement, the choice to set foot in this mountain was made solely through the determination of Ferda Rosnova. For that reason, I have no intention of retreating, and I shall see this engagement carried through.”
Hearing his reply, Ruri fixed an unblinking gaze upon him. Her youthful face was chilled by a disturbing coldness, yet Ferda did not waver under her stare.
“Do you not intend to deliver my words?”
“…Understood.”
Ruri pulled the smaller iron door open and vanished inside once more. When she emerged roughly ten minutes later, she carried a hefty sack in her grasp.
“I shall deliver the Archduchess’s response. ‘I look favorably upon the courage you demonstrated by coming here of your own volition. In recognition of that resolute spirit, I bestow a portion of my hoard to serve as the capital for your future endeavors. Take this wealth, depart, and build a prosperous life in a new land.'”
Clink—.
The mouth of the pouch parted, revealing the gleam of precious metals and gems. Alongside the treasure, she dropped an official document bearing the unmistakable seal of the Archduchess. Ferda looked down at the parchment and the shimmering fortune, yet his eyes regarded the gold as though it were nothing more than worthless gravel.
“Go back and inform her of this: I possess no desire for imperial authority or riches. The sole reason I traveled here is because I wish to proceed with the engagement to the Archduchess of Valdrova.”
“You seem prone to woolgathering. It hardly reflects well on the Archduchess’s personal attendant to stand around looking dazed, does it?”
Ruri offered no rebuttal, turning abruptly to step back through the threshold.
“……Sigh.”
Or so it seemed, before she abruptly slammed the iron door shut behind her, remaining outside. Her composed, servant-like facade had shattered. Having spent a lifetime steeped in malice and the bitter pursuit of vengeance, Ferda instantly recognized the emotion burning within her silver eyes.
It was pure, unadulterated loathing.
“I will not waste time sugarcoating my words. Turn around right now and leave.”
Her voice was thick with suppressed fury. Yet Ferda remained entirely unperturbed.
“That seems rather curt for a message from the Archduchess of Valdrova.”
“It is not her message. These are words spoken entirely of my own accord as my Master’s loyal servant.”
She advanced toward Ferda with deliberate, measured steps. With every pace she took, her physical form began to shift. A pair of sharp, majestic horns erupted from her scalp, stabbing toward the ceiling, while the hem of her long maid skirt billowed outward as her hidden Draconic nature surged to the surface to crush him under sheer intimidation.
‘Is this the weight of Dragon Fear?’
He had anticipated she would be formidable, but this display surpassed his expectations. For a mere attendant among the Dragon Spawn to manifest a pressure of this magnitude was astonishing. Ferda felt an icy constriction grip his throat as a cold sweat dampened his spine. Yet beneath that physical reaction, his mind remained utterly tranquil. To someone who had weathered catastrophic horrors far greater than this, the display felt like little more than a child throwing a fit.
“I have seen through creatures like you time and again.”
“And what manner of person would that be?”
“Pitiful insects incapable of restraining their own greed, foolish enough to believe they can seize the heavens with their frail hands.”
Every syllable dripped with deep-seated disgust born from past betrayals.
“Vile trash who harbor no genuine care for my Master, blinded entirely by the power and prestige they dream of stealing through her name.”
A strange feeling of familiarity washed over Ferda as he listened to her accusation. He briefly wondered where he had encountered that exact sentiment before, only to recall his exchange with Huren mere hours earlier.
“Is that why the 3rd Imperial Prince met his end?”
Ruri gave a sharp nod. “Indeed. That wretch was thoroughly preoccupied with schemes to treat my Master like a subservient tool the moment their vows were spoken. Utterly pathetic. What made him think his vile intentions would go unnoticed?”
Ferda murmured quietly beneath his breath. ‘So that was the truth behind it.’
Having once absorbed the essence of Valdrova’s heart in his former life, Ferda understood the depths of her soul. He knew that, contrary to her monstrous reputation, she was never the kind of tyrant who would slaughter the 3rd Prince merely for failing to show deference. The prince had simply overplayed his hand; stepping away from the Throne of the Empire was merely a gambit to return later with the overwhelming might of a dragon to claim supreme rule.
‘Above all else, his arrogance blinded him.’
“Therefore, while my Master is still generous enough to grant you this fortune, turn back this instant. If you desire it, I shall carry you in my own hands and deposit you straight back at the Empire’s border.”
Her animosity was entirely understandable. It was a reaction anyone in her position would feel. Yet Ferda felt no surge of anger. He had learned far too much through his past suffering to be unsettled by such resentment.
“I, Ferda Rosnova, swear before you without a single shred of deceit.”
Looking down into her hostile gaze with quiet solemnity, Ferda spoke clearly.
“I, Ferda Rosnova, did not travel to this mountain under coercion from any man or ruler.”
He called upon the memories etched into his very being from Valdrova’s heart. She had harbored countless aspirations, only to see every single one shattered. She had been forced to endure endless vilification, cold contempt, and the torment of wrestling against her own destructive impulses. With not a single ally by her side, she had continued to endure and fight alone—a feat Ferda himself had once failed to achieve.
“I, Ferda Rosnova, covet neither authority nor gold.”
Even if the Valdrova standing beyond the iron door had no knowledge of it yet, Ferda remembered. He remembered how she had given up her very existence while offering prayers for the salvation of another. He remembered how she had bestowed her heart upon someone as selfish and broken as he had been.
Even if the woman in this era did not recognize him—
“I, Ferda Rosnova, have stepped into this lair purely as the man who will stand beside Valdrova as her fiancé.”
As long as those memories lived within him, he would remain her steadfast ally.
“Since we are destined to become husband and wife, deliver this message to her: whatever misunderstandings exist between us ought to be resolved directly, face to face, through our own voices and ears—not filtered through the words of an attendant.”
Ruri’s composure finally shattered entirely.
“You insolent brat! How dare you spout such arrogant drivel when you understand nothing of who my Master truly is—!”
Her slender hand shot forward like a viper, aiming straight for Ferda’s throat. Had those fingers closed around his neck, bone and sinew would have snapped as easily as dry autumn twigs.
Thump—.
A heavy tap echoed against the surface of the iron gate.
In an instant, Ruri froze, regaining her composure. The suffocating Dragon Fear that had saturated the cavern dissipated into nothingness. Lowering her murderous gaze, the girl inclined her head in a formal bow.
“Pardon me.”
“Of course. Take your time.”
Ferda remained thoroughly composed until the very end. After stepping through the smaller iron door to receive Valdrova’s true decree, Ruri reemerged a few moments later. Her doll-like expression carried an undeniable look of bitter dissatisfaction. To Ferda, that scowl was the clearest sign of victory.
“She has stated that she understands your resolve… and has commanded me to proceed with the arrangements for the engagement.”
Just as he thought. No matter how rebellious an attendant’s temperament might be, she could never defy the absolute will of her master.
“I see. That is well.”
“Then… please come this way.”
The terrifying hostility that had hung in the air vanished completely as Ruri seamlessly slipped back into her professional demeanor. Ferda followed quietly behind her into the dark passage.
Deep into the night, beneath the foundation of the grand castle.
Ruri returned to the depths of the dragon’s lair. Passing beyond the securely shut iron gate, she stepped into the vast subterranean hollow. Resting there in the gloom lay an enormous dragon clad in crimson scales, curled in an imposing posture.
—Have you returned?
Luminous golden Death Eyes pierced the surrounding dark. Ruri offered a deeply disciplined and reverent salute.
“I offer my humble greetings to the Great Twelve Rulers, and to the absolute Aspect of Power among them. Your presence here radiates the sheer magnificence befitting the supreme ruler of this world.”
—Is that so? I was merely resting my limbs.
“True grace appears clumsy when one attempts to force it. That which flows naturally from one’s very existence, without conscious effort, is the essence of genuine majesty.”
—Is that how it appears…?
Ruri’s silver eyes sparkled with fervent sincerity, leaving Valdrova somewhat bewildered by the overflowing praise.
“Do you truly intend to bind yourself to a mortal?”
—Was that not my own desire from the beginning? You agreed to honor my choice as well.
“At the time, I only gave my consent reluctantly. You still possess the freedom to reconsider even now. Having the resolve to overturn a previous choice is also the hallmark of a wise monarch.”
Despite her persistent pleas to abandon the union, Valdrova gently shook her massive head.
—I have no desire to retract my decision. That remains my steadfast resolve.
“Tsk…”
Ruri clicked her tongue, unable to hide her displeasure. Paying no mind to her attendant’s casual insolence, Valdrova spoke again.
—Tell me… my prospective partner. What kind of person did you find him to be?
Ruri shook her head dismissively. “Do not even ask, Master. He is nothing more than a frail, pathetic human.”
—How frail?
“Given that he hails from a lineage of renowned knights, I assumed his constitution would be reasonably sturdy, yet his stamina is so wretched he seemed on the verge of collapse merely from walking the path here.”
—And his appearance?
“Quite hideous. He claimed to be eighteen years of age, yet his face carries the worn exhaustion of an old man, likely due to a complete lack of proper self-care.”
—Ruri.
“My apologies. In truth, he is remarkably handsome… enough to make quite a few noblewomen weep, I suppose.”
—You know that is not what I am asking.
Ruri was well aware of the insight her master truly sought. Though she loathed admitting it, she had no choice but to speak the truth.
“He is… far from ordinary.”
—Not ordinary?
“I am a Dragon Spawn who carries draconic blood within my veins. For someone like me, subjecting an ordinary mortal to overwhelming dread is as simple as drawing breath. And yet…”
Ruri pictured Ferda’s unwavering demeanor in her mind.
“That man did not display even a flicker of fear in my presence. Not once. Because of that… he will undoubtedly be capable of looking directly into your eyes, Master.”
—Is that true?
Ruri’s brow furrowed bitterly. The very notion of a mere human meeting the unvarnished gaze of an almighty dragon was an absurdity that should never exist.
—That is wonderful.
In contrast to her attendant’s distress, a gentle warmth colored Valdrova’s tone.
—To think there is a person capable of facing me normally.
“Nor…mally, you say?”
—Indeed. Normally.
That concept stood worlds apart from what Ruri considered ‘normal.’ Humans gazing upon other humans was normal. A human attempting to stand on equal footing with a dragon was impossible. The only natural order was one where the dragon held absolute dominion while the human knelt in utter subjugation.
Ruri had a mountain of objections she wished to voice, yet the words remained locked in her throat. Regardless of her own feelings, if her Master found satisfaction in the outcome, that was enough.
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