Chapter 4
Chapter 4: The Qualifications of a Royal Consort
Departing from the dragon’s cavernous lair, Ruri guided Ferda toward their true destination.
Perched halfway along the mountain’s rugged spine stood the immense castle, its grand outline clearly visible even across vast distances. A direct path wound upward from the subterranean cavern of the lair, ushering them straight into the fortress’s grand hall.
“Flawless.”
Ferda could immediately tell that Valdrova had approached the concept of this union with absolute sincerity. She would never have gone to the trouble of erecting such a colossal castle directly above her own lair, nor furnished it entirely according to human customs and standards, had she not been completely invested.
‘It was originally constructed for the engagement of the 3rd Imperial Prince.’
Had that prince successfully wed the Archduchess of Valdrova, he would have attained the colossal authority accompanying the alliance. Because he would have stood as the de facto sovereign over the entire East, a grand estate worthy of such majesty had been prepared in advance.
However, a brutal incident occurred wherein the prince was utterly dismantled limb from limb. Consequently, the magnificent structure was left behind as an abandoned, silent fortress.
Ferda had imagined the stronghold would lie neglected and dust-covered following the prince’s gruesome end, but the interior was remarkably well preserved. This was no superficial cleaning performed in haste simply because an imperial guest had arrived; one could clearly sense the diligent, daily maintenance infused into every corner of the halls.
“Who tends to the maintenance of this castle?”
“I do,” Ruri answered flatly.
“Is there anyone else assisting you?”
“I am the sole attendant who serves the Master.”
“Then all of this upkeep is…”
“I manage every single task on my own. That should sufficiently answer your curiosity.”
Her words were curt, delivered with a razor-sharp edge. She was evidently furious that he had actually accepted the betrothal.
‘Much like a loyal guard dog.’
‘As long as she refrains from biting me, it makes little difference.’
Provided the guard dog defended the household properly, her hostility was of little concern.
Leading the way further inside, she ushered Ferda into an enormous suite.
‘This chamber alone is easily five times the size of my former quarters.’
The scale of the room rivaled the private chambers of his father, Erembalt, and matched the grandeur afforded to the Emperor of Arken himself.
“This is the guest quarters,” she announced.
“A room of this scale is merely for guests?”
“You are a visitor received by a Dragon, an absolute Ruler. You are hardly just anyone.”
At the very least, dragons existed as supreme entities standing on equal ground with the Emperor. Even so, being placed in such accommodations allowed Ferda to clearly understand his current position within the estate.
“So, at present, I am considered ‘merely’ a guest?”
“Indeed. Since you have not yet been formally recognized as the fiancé, you remain ‘merely’ a guest.”
“Do you always greet your visitors with such overt animosity?” Ferda inquired with genuine intrigue.
“No. I simply despise humans in general.”
“You are remarkably forthright.”
“And among all humans, it is you I despise the most.”
“You are unnecessarily forthright.”
“I see no reason to cloak my thoughts.”
Ruri gave a slight shrug, her expression completely blank. Her demeanor was so thoroughly insolent that it practically invited a sharp reprimand.
“Very well. It is far better than hiding behind false pretenses.”
Ferda genuinely welcomed her directness. It was infinitely preferable to dealing with conniving aristocrats who flashed radiant smiles while secretly plotting a dagger in your spine. Every time Ferda absorbed her insults with unbothered calm, Ruri only glared back at him with deeper irritation.
“I have a question for you,” she said.
“Speak.”
“Do you truly feel no fear when looking at me?”
Ferda tilted his head slightly. “What reason would I have to fear you?”
“I intended to snap your neck earlier. Had the Master not intervened with her signal, I would have crushed your throat on the spot.”
As Ruri clenched and released her delicate fingers, the faint, chilling sound of knuckles cracking resonated within the chamber.
‘I would have perished on the spot…’
He had already been fully aware of her deadly intent, yet he had held no plans to evade her grasp back then.
‘Had the betrothal fallen through, I had no reason to continue living in this era anyway.’
In that fleeting moment, dying had not seemed like such a terrible outcome. Concealing his inner reflections, Ferda smoothly redirected the conversation.
“Let us shelve this pointless posturing for another time. Tell me, when is the engagement ceremony scheduled to take place?”
“The ceremony alongside the Master will occur in exactly one month.”
“Will it be conducted as a grand, formal affair?”
“If by ‘formal’ you mean summoning unwanted crowds and generating meaningless noise, then absolutely not. It will be conducted quietly within the lair. Only the three of us shall be present.”
“Just three?”
“The Master, myself, and the guest.” She signaled toward Ferda with a sharp, dismissive motion of her chin.
“Understood. One month from today.”
“While we are on the matter, there is one more detail you must know,” Ruri continued. “The ceremony may be set for one month from now, but that date also marks your absolute deadline.”
“A deadline concerning what?”
“The time limit for you to prove you possess the necessary caliber to serve as her fiancé.”
Ferda reflected once more: securing a marriage was an extraordinarily punishing endeavor.
“Did the Archduchess of Valdrova decree this test?”
“No. This condition stems purely from my own judgment.”
“So you are acting entirely on your own authority. Is an attendant permitted to enforce such personal demands?”
“It is an action that must be taken. In all honesty, our Master possesses a heart far too tender for the terrifying rumors surrounding her name.”
She was astonishingly outspoken.
“You likely recognized that softness yourself. That is precisely why you refused to lower your head in terror before Valdrova the Tyrant. You stand as the sole human in history capable of holding such an attitude before a true Dragon.”
“Is that so?”
“I chose to let the matter rest because the Master expressed her desire to accept a human fiancé. But unlike her, I am not lenient in the slightest.”
Ruri’s tone hardened with absolute conviction.
“As the life partner of a Great Aspect, you must embody the appropriate stature.”
A dragon and a frail mortal. The chasm separating their existences was far wider than the gulf between an Emperor and the lowest beggar. In essence, she was demanding an impossible miracle.
“Are you asking me, a mere mortal, to rival the might of a Dragon within the span of a single month?”
“As if such an absurdity were possible. I harbor no delusional expectation that you could achieve true strength so swiftly,” Ruri scoffed. “You simply need to demonstrate that you harbor potential.”
She lifted her delicate, clenched fist before him.
“Mere willpower is useless. Resolve alone achieves nothing. What matters is that you prove to me, within this single month, that a weakling such as yourself contains even a single spark of true potential.”
Her words were punctuated with sharp, unforgiving clarity.
“That is the preliminary trial for any prospective fiancé who wishes to claim Valdrova Castle.”
Observing her fierce dedication, Ferda quietly mused: ‘My prospective bride has a remarkably faithful soul standing at her side.’
Even though she possessed a venomous tongue and despised him thoroughly, Ferda found himself appreciating Ruri. Despite her profound hatred toward humanity, she had made no attempt to conceal the requirements demanded of a consort. That alone proved her unwavering loyalty to Valdrova far outweighed her personal disdain.
‘She is this devoted… so why was she nowhere to be found in my past life?’
When Ferda had assaulted Valdrova’s lair during his previous existence, Ruri had been completely absent. He pondered the strange anomaly for a brief moment before setting it aside; it was not a matter of immediate urgency.
“Understood. Suppose I prove that potential to you. How high am I expected to rise? Must I attain the status of someone like the Emperor of the Empire?”
Ruri shook her head firmly. “At the bare minimum, you must reach a level where the remaining ‘Aspects’ will not dare look down upon you.”
That requirement meant acquiring a degree of might that comfortably eclipsed even the supreme Emperor.
“I see.”
When Ferda accepted her condition with complete tranquility, Ruri looked at him with profound bewilderment.
“Are you hopelessly arrogant? Utterly foolish? Or do you simply hold Dragons in light regard? Whichever it is, I find it thoroughly distasteful.”
“I am guilty of none of those.”
“Do not delude yourself into thinking this will be a simple task. Especially for a fragile human like you.”
“As it happens, I have never once assumed it would be easy.”
Ferda met her gaze evenly.
“You need not fret over my attitude. All that is required of me is to demonstrate sufficient potential to satisfy your standards within the coming month, correct?”
Ruri pursed her lips in frustration. Having her unreasonable conditions accepted so effortlessly left her thoroughly unsettled.
‘He is overflowing with unshakeable confidence.’
She could not fathom the source of such certainty. She was intimately familiar with how the phrase “Valdrova’s fiancé” was treated across the Arken Empire—it was a dark euphemism used when exiling useless family embarrassments to their deaths. How could such an abandoned castoff harbor talent capable of standing alongside an Aspect?
Yet Ferda was entirely different from what she presumed.
‘It is more than manageable.’
He was the Archmage who had attained the legendary 8th Circle at the youngest age known across the continent, the very man who had once unleashed the 9th Circle Wish spell. He had already forced the supreme Emperor of the Empire down to his knees in surrender.
‘Reaching a stature that cannot be overshadowed even by a Dragon is well within the realm of possibility.’
So long as the possibility existed, it was nothing daunting to Ferda. An aura of quiet confidence settled over his features.
“What an utterly repellant human,” Ruri muttered, turning away with profound exasperation.
The citadel constructed directly above the dragon’s cavern had been named Valdrova Castle, in honor of its true master.
Ferda resided within its stone walls for an entire week. By and large, daily life was pleasant enough, even if he was required to attend to nearly every chore on his own.
Aristocrats inevitably traveled with an entourage of servants to cater to their every whim. Lacking at least one personal attendant was viewed as a severe injury to their noble dignity. Had any typical noble been forced to manage a household without a single servant, they would have thrown a furious tantrum, claiming they were being openly mocked.
For Ferda, however, it posed not the slightest inconvenience.
‘I have long since grown accustomed to solitude.’
In truth, having someone fussing over his clothes felt far more uncomfortable. Having learned to stand entirely on his own two feet, dwelling inside Valdrova Castle was remarkably peaceful.
‘In fact, this is vastly superior to the family estate.’
Whenever he had walked the halls of the Rosnova household, he had lived in constant, exhausting vigilance. Surrounded by hostility, there had not been a single individual he could place his trust in. Those who presented a friendly face were invariably plotting to drag him down into ruin.
‘That girl Ruri might despise my existence, but compared to those vultures, she is practically an angel.’
At the very least, Ruri never slipped poison into his morning tea, nor did she grease the marble staircases in hopes of seeing him break his neck. For that reason alone, watching her scowl felt like dealing with an irritable little pup.
“The deadline sits at one month.”
What could he realistically present within such a constrained window? Ferda examined his possibilities from every conceivable perspective, but the path forward converged onto a single truth.
‘It must be through magic.’
Ferda possessed an extraordinary aptitude for the arcane arts. If he could reveal even a tiny glimpse of that innate genius to Ruri, she would have no choice but to acknowledge him, however begrudgingly.
“To manifest magic, I must first establish a Mana Circle.”
A Circle was created by taking the raw, disordered mana coursing through the physical vessel and aligning it into a unified, circulating ring to form an internal circuit. The dilemma lay in the fact that Ferda did not know the method to construct the proper variety of Circle.
‘No, that is inaccurate. I do know the method.’
All he truly required was to submerge his soul in overwhelming vengeance and bitter malice. If he retraced the dark path he had walked in his previous life, he would reach the 8th Circle at a pace even faster than before.
‘Yet I must never walk that road again.’
Ferda recalled the teachings of his former mentor.
‘The very first foundation determines everything. Whether your initial Circle awakens as Red or Blue will define your entire existence as a mage. Though I doubt you need to lose sleep over such matters.’
His former master had been a thoroughly greedy, lustful degenerate driven purely by coin, yet when it came to guiding arcane development, his wisdom had been absolute.
A Red Circle represented a mana circuit forged through violent emotional instability. A Blue Circle was an internal circuit cultivated through deep, tranquil meditation. Both possessed distinct strengths and fatal drawbacks.
Blue Circles were remarkably stable, though their formation required grueling patience. Because they granted a mage the ability to maintain absolute composure and analyze any battlefield regardless of the chaos, eighty percent of practitioners cultivated Blue Circles through rigorous training.
Conversely, Red Circles coalesced with terrifying speed but were inherently volatile. Unlike Blue Circles that prioritized inner serenity, violent psychological turmoil served as their fundamental catalyst. Consequently, while a practitioner could amass devastating strength in a brief period, they were perpetually vulnerable to being swallowed whole by their own fury, degenerating into raving maniacs.
‘The only path for me is to forge a Blue Circle.’
To prevent his future from repeating its tragic ruin, that was the only acceptable choice. The surrounding circumstances, however, offered little favor.
‘They say condensing a Blue Circle demands at least three full years of meditation.’
He was expected to present undeniable results within the remaining three weeks. It was an impossibly narrow window, yet Ferda felt no panic. He held complete faith that a solution would reveal itself.
…
“Are your preparations underway?”
“They are.”
“For someone claiming to prepare, not a single change is visible on your person.”
“I am currently refining the theoretical approach within my mind.”
“I see.”
Ruri clearly held zero expectations. Over the preceding days, Ferda had spent his hours analyzing and deconstructing methods to condense a Blue Circle. Yet the only definitive conclusion he had reached was that even though both Circle types utilized the identical mana, the fundamental nature of that energy differed entirely.
‘At this rate, I truly might fail to meet the qualifications before the ceremony arrives.’
Boasting grandly only to produce nothing was entirely contrary to Ferda’s nature. Even so, he resolved to continue his search for an answer today with quiet persistence.
Just as he prepared to greet the dawn of a new day—
Rumble!
A colossal tremor accompanied by a thunderous shockwave ripped through the fortress foundation. The impact originated from a point extraordinarily close by.
“What was that disturbance?”
Ruri calmly replied, “The Master is presently conducting a monster extermination.”
“A monster extermination?”
“She is eradicating the vile creatures attempting to spill over from the Land of Demons along the eastern perimeter.”
Rumble!
Under ordinary circumstances, he would have simply acknowledged the explanation and paid it no further heed, but today a sudden spark ignited in Ferda’s mind.
‘Could it be…?’
An undeniable intuition gripped his thoughts. He sensed that the elusive answer he had been hunting for might be waiting on that very battlefield.
“I wish to witness this battle.”
“Pardon?” Ruri stared back with a hollow look. “You would do well to abandon such a notion.”
“For what reason?”
“The minds of mortal creatures are exceedingly fragile. To this day, not a single human has ever maintained their sanity after beholding the Master unleashed in combat.”
Ferda cast his mind back toward his former life. In those dark days, his soul had been utterly consumed by madness. He had crossed paths with many of the supreme entities revered as the Rulers. Yet among all of them, the presence that had sent the most profound chill through his bones had been the Red Dragon.
‘That was likely because she had directed pure hostility toward me.’
“Therefore, do not entertain foolish curiosities,” Ruri warned coldly.
“No.” Ferda shook his head with absolute resolve. This was no idle curiosity. It was the crucial step toward finding his answer. “I must see it for myself. That battle.”
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