Chapter 109: Chapter 109
Chapter 109 - Karma Left Behind
Ferda stood there blankly, unable to say a single word.
’Erembalt Rosnova.’
The head of House Rosnova.
Ferda’s father.
And the very source that had driven him to become a Mage through nothing but hatred.
"What would you like to do?"
Luri asked.
It was a simple matter.
He could just send him away.
Ferda had been expelled from House Rosnova, and he no longer bore that family name.
They were strangers now.
No matter what the man wanted to say, there was no need to listen.
After all, hearing him would only dredge up negative emotions that should have remained buried.
Normally, the answer would have been obvious.
"Let him in. I will prepare myself."
"Understood."
Ferda decided to meet him.
Perhaps it was a mistake.
But he had to find out.
Whether this hatred was still alive within him.
***
After spending about twenty minutes preparing, Ferda walked down the corridor toward the reception room.
Beyond this door waited the very man who had thrown him out of his home.
Ferda’s feet refused to move easily.
"Luri."
Instead, he spoke to the woman standing behind him.
"Yes."
"I will go in alone."
"Understood."
"And make sure that whatever happens inside remains unknown to everyone... including you."
"...What exactly are you planning to do?"
Thinking the request was excessive, Luri asked him.
"I’m asking you as a favor."
A favor.
Those words carried far more weight than a command.
That only made Luri even more uneasy.
"...Understood."
Quietly, Luri erected a barrier that sealed off the room.
Feeling the space become completely isolated, Ferda stepped inside.
There he was.
The bastard who had treated him so cruelly before casting him aside.
The bastard to whom he had repaid wounds even more terrible than the ones he himself had suffered.
The moment the man saw Ferda, his face lit up.
"Oh! My son! My son has come!"
No.
He was merely pretending to be delighted.
Even a child could tell how awkward and unnatural his behavior was.
Perhaps because of that, his face looked all the more pathetic.
Ferda found himself relieved to feel that way.
Instead of the boiling hatred he had expected, that overwhelming disappointment allowed him to remain astonishingly calm.
"Welcome, Lord Rosnova."
Maintaining perfect courtesy, Ferda drew a clear line between them.
Erembalt’s expression stiffened.
Whatever he had been hoping for, it certainly wasn’t the attitude Ferda was showing him now.
Taking the seat opposite him, Ferda studied his face.
Avoiding Ferda’s gaze, Erembalt pushed something across the table.
"This is honey produced by the bees raised in House Rosnova’s territory. I-I thought that, as the Regent..."
"Yes. House Rosnova’s honey is quite delicious."
"Y-Yes."
"But I don’t like it very much anymore."
"Ah... I suppose not. Your Grace will soon be nineteen, so—"
"No."
"I nearly died because of it once."
Ferda’s cold gaze locked onto him.
"Your second son, Huren Rosnova, poured it into my mouth until it completely blocked my airway."
Erembalt’s face turned deathly pale.
Ferda continued calmly.
"If I hadn’t shoved my fingers down my own throat to scoop it out, I would have died."
"Ever since then, even the sight of a jar of honey makes me tremble."
"I... I..."
It sounded as though he was about to make the excuse that he hadn’t known.
"That day, there were five servants who witnessed it."
"So apparently, not a single one of them reported it to you, Lord Rosnova."
"I’m sorry."
"Even if I had ten mouths, I would have no excuse."
"If you wish to punish someone, I will do it myself."
"No... if that still isn’t enough, I’ll bring him here personally and have him punished—"
"No."
"That won’t be necessary."
"Let’s get to the point."
Leaning back against his chair, Ferda sighed.
He had no interest in this shallow attempt at reconciliation.
"Well..."
"Recently, Big Sister came to House Rosnova."
Big Sister.
The nickname of Erdes Roton.
A title of respect... and at the same time, one of ridicule.
"She came to ask about me."
"Yes."
"She questioned us about Your Grace."
"And you told her everything."
"No."
"Not... not everything..."
"Do not lie to me, Lord Rosnova."
Ferda warned him quietly.
"Erdes already knows that I use Black Magic."
"Those who practice Black Magic face nothing less than extermination of their entire family."
"The fact that all of you are still alive means you denied my existence while confessing everything, doesn’t it?"
Erembalt visibly flinched.
His dry lips merely quivered soundlessly.
"Am I wrong?"
Ferda pressed him for an answer.
Cold sweat poured down Erembalt’s face as he lowered his head.
"...You are correct."
Yes.
Ferda had known all along.
Ever since the day he was cast out, he knew that the man had never regarded him as his son.
’I already knew that.’
The past threatened to force its way back into his mind.
His heart surged violently.
A pounding headache crushed his skull.
"So you came all this way merely to make your confession?"
Ferda still couldn’t understand why the man had come.
"No."
"There’s just one thing I never managed to tell you."
"That’s why I came."
"Go ahead."
"...Your Grace."
"Do you remember Anna Rosnova?"
What?
Those few words alone were enough to shake Ferda.
Watching his expression, Erembalt hurriedly corrected himself.
"No..."
"What I mean is..."
"Do you truly remember your mother, Anna Rosnova?"
Even that awkward attempt to explain himself failed to calm Ferda’s anger.
"Of course I do."
"She was my mother."
"And she was also your wife."
"...She should have been."
"She should have been..."
"But those memories..."
"They feel utterly foreign to me."
His words pierced deep.
It felt as though Erembalt’s words had stabbed straight into Ferda’s heart.
It sounded like the cruelest joke imaginable.
He felt furious.
Yet laughter threatened to escape him.
He felt as though he were losing his mind.
Suppressing his emotions, Ferda answered rationally.
"My mother, Anna Rosnova, had blond hair and blue eyes."
"You praised her countless times, saying she was far too beautiful for someone like you."
Scenes flashed through Ferda’s mind like a lantern show.
Eating together.
Laughing together.
Holding hands.
Whispering words of love.
He remembered every moment vividly.
He even remembered how those displays had once given him goosebumps.
How could the very person involved claim not to remember any of it?
"The only memory I know for certain is this."
"A wandering vagrant walking in while carrying a child."
Erembalt spoke.
No—
"Spat it out" would have been the more fitting expression.
To Ferda, those words felt exactly like something spat in his face.
"Looking back..."
"I had no reason to accept that woman."
"I had lost my wife, yes..."
"But I already had two sons."
"I wasn’t lonely."
"It was only after that woman died that I remembered that."
"So..."
"So what exactly are you trying to say?"
Looking at Ferda with fear-filled eyes, Erembalt answered.
"I wanted to tell you..."
"That we never shared the same blood."
"So please..."
He lowered his head deeply.
"Please make a complete break from House Rosnova."
Ferda couldn’t speak.
His mind desperately searched for words.
Yet not a single one would come.
Everything inside his head was chaos.
Why...
Why do I have to hear something like this?
He had believed he could forget everything and continue living.
Yet the man had appeared before him only to rip open wounds that had finally begun to heal.
He had finally let everything go.
So why dig it all up again and bring it back to him?
Why was the person he hated more than anyone hurting him once again...?
Ferda felt his consciousness beginning to fade.
His emotions threatened to consume him.
Quietly, he closed his eyes.
He tried to calm his heart.
But what he sensed instead...was the movement of the circuits.
And a sweet whisper.
Ferda knew that voice.
It was the same voice he had heard when Luri had been in danger.
Kill him.
Kill him.
Last time you turned someone into an empty shell.
This time, strangle him to death.
Make him suffer as much as he made you suffer.
Why are you hesitating?
The first kill is difficult.
The second is easy, isn’t it?
Those words jolted Ferda awake.
The circuits within his chest were spinning.
They whirled like mad, as though they would reach the Six-Circle Opener at any moment.
But that wasn’t all.
When he opened his eyes again, he witnessed something astonishing.
Behind the bewildered Erembalt Rosnova stretched a pair of black arms.
Could Erembalt use Shadow Arts?
Impossible.
Those shadows were limbs created by Ferda’s own will.
They had already reached Erembalt’s neck, poised to seize it at any moment.
Ferda hurriedly withdrew them.
Suppressing the swirling emotions inside him, he spoke in a composed voice.
"Leave, Lord Rosnova."
Even so, an ominous aura filled the room.
Erembalt quickly rose to his feet.
Just before stepping out through the door, he paused and turned around one last time.
"Thank you for your mercy, Your Grace."
With those words, he left.
Was that the last remnant of denial he still clung to?
Or was it merely flattery in hopes of reducing future consequences?
Ferda had no way of knowing.
His thoughts were a complete mess.
"Lord Ferda."
As Erembalt left, Luri entered the room.
"What kind of conversation took place..."
"...To leave him wearing an expression like that?"
Luri couldn’t finish her sentence.
Ferda sat with his head lowered, staring blankly into empty space.
It was an expression she had never seen him wear before.
"Luri."
His lips parted with difficulty.
His voice was heavy.
"May I ask one favor?"
"Of course."
Ferda spoke in a trembling voice.
"I want..."
"...To visit my mother."
"Understood."
"If you tell me where she is, I’ll take you there immediately."
"Go to House Rosnova."
"Yes."
Once they stepped out onto the terrace, Luri gently wrapped her arms around Ferda.
Not as though she were carrying luggage—but as though she were embracing him.
She shot through the sky like a comet and, in an instant, arrived before the front gate of the Rosnova estate.
"Where is the grave?"
Ferda didn’t answer.
Instead, he turned and began walking somewhere.
It wasn’t toward House Rosnova.
Naturally assuming the grave would be somewhere on the estate, Luri silently followed behind him.
Ferda walked without saying a word.
Luri knew better than anyone just how pitiful his physical stamina was.
Before long, the sound of his labored breathing and pounding heartbeat became impossible to ignore.
"Lord Ferda."
"..."
"You’re struggling to breathe. Wouldn’t it be better to rest for a while?"
Ferda gave no answer.
Like a man possessed, he simply kept walking.
Luri could have stepped in front of him and stopped him.
But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
She didn’t know what kind of burden was weighing so heavily upon those shoulders.
Nor did she have the courage to face the expression he wore at that moment.
Without saying a word, she silently followed behind him.
Drenched in sweat and gasping for dry breaths, Ferda finally came to a stop.
They had arrived at a plain.
A barren plain with nothing but a single tree stump.
It didn’t feel as though he had stopped simply because he was exhausted.
"Is this the place?"
Ferda nodded.
"Where is the grave?"
Luri looked around several times just in case.
But no matter how carefully she searched, there wasn’t the slightest trace of anyone having been buried there.
"There is no grave."
Ferda reached out into empty space.
"This is where... I sent my mother away."
"You... cremated her?"
For members of an old and distinguished Knight Family, burial was the proper custom after death.
Even if she had only been a concubine, once she became part of a Knight Family, she was supposed to be buried in the family’s cemetery.
"When my mother died, they hurriedly burned her body."
"They even ordered the servants to dispose of the remains as though they were throwing away garbage."
"As if she were nothing more than trash."
"..."
"So I cleaned everything up myself."
"I carefully gathered every bit of her ashes and placed them into an urn."
Ferda looked down at his own hands.
Though they were empty now, he could still vividly remember the feeling of touching those ashes.
"That day, I wanted to scatter my mother’s ashes somewhere my father would never find."
"Even if the wind eventually carried them away, I wanted there to be a place where I could remember her."
"..."
"So I walked until I felt like my soul was about to leave my body."
"I finally reached this place."
"This was where I chose."
Ferda raised his head and looked up at the sky.
The barren sky and desolate earth were cold, devoid of any sign of life.
His gaze slowly fell upon the tree stump.
"There used to be a tree here."
"It stood alone in the middle of the plain."
"It looked just like me... all alone."
"So I secretly scattered her ashes beneath that tree."
"Then why is there only a stump...?"
"One of the servants followed me."
"And they cut the tree down."
"...They did something so cruel to a son who had already lost his mother?"
Luri’s voice trembled with anger.
She knew better than anyone how precious family was.
She couldn’t dismiss such cruelty lightly.
Her fists clenched tightly.
She found herself wishing she had at least threatened that bastard before sending him away.
"I thought it was all my fault."
Ferda’s voice quivered.
"I believed that if I hadn’t been so weak..."
"If I had shown the talent to become an outstanding knight..."
"I could have protected the place where I honored my mother."
His own weakness.
No matter how hard he tried, his frail body never showed even the slightest result.
Not once in his life—not even until the day he died—had Ferda ever possessed a strong body.
"Then I was driven out of the house."
That much Luri already knew.
Everything after that...
Only Ferda himself knew.
He quietly continued.
"I trained as a Mage."
"In a very short time, I surpassed countless talented mages."
"I even reached the Three-Circle."
Back then, Ferda hadn’t yet been consumed by hatred.
Inside his heart still lived a young boy...and an angel.
The young boy wondered...
Maybe Erembalt would finally accept me if he saw me now.
In truth, Erembalt had always appeared to be a loving father.
He had been devoted to his wife.
He never hesitated to guide his sons.
He had once even been Ferda’s idol.
Only toward Ferda...he had never shown any of that kindness.
The angel within his heart whispered...
The bonds of family still remain.
The boy believed that angel.
He wanted to believe that the world wasn’t filled with nothing but malice.
Young Ferda wished for his flawed father to ask for forgiveness.
"How dare you show your face here!"
The moment he stepped into the estate, he was greeted by a furious roar, as though an archenemy had arrived.
"You are no longer my son!"
"So you learned a few magic tricks and think you can come crawling back!?"
"Get out of my sight this instant!"
Those words were hotter than fire...and colder than ice.
The eldest son, Ellen, and Huren personally beat Ferda until they drove him away.
It rained that day.
His mouth filled with blood.
His body was soaked through.
Half-crippled, Ferda was so close to death that it would have surprised no one if he had died right there.
Had he not stubbornly crawled beneath a patch of shade...he undoubtedly would have become nothing more than a corpse.
That day...the young boy realized something.
Hope was nothing but an illusion that forced people to continue living miserable lives.
The young boy killed the angel within him.
What filled the empty space afterward...was only the voice of a demon overflowing with malice.
The more he begged for mercy, the greater the pain he received.
Hatred only gave birth to even greater hatred.
Only after reaching the very end...and finding nothing but emptiness...did he regret everything.
"I thought..."
"...That was the end."
He had deeply regretted everything in the end.
He had decided to live for one clear purpose alone.
That demon should have died.
Surely...the innocence he had once possessed would eventually return.
"But nothing changed."
"What do you mean?"
"Hatred."
The tiny monster his father had created.
"The hatred that turned me into a monster..."
"...That reduced me to such an empty shell..."
Ferda clutched his chest tightly.
"It still remains..."
"...Inside this heart."
Looking down at him, Luri couldn’t find a single word to say.
The silence was broken once again by Ferda.
"Luri."
"...Yes."
"When I met my father..."
"...I tried to kill him."
"A father like that deserves to die."
"That wasn’t my own will."
That was what Ferda feared most.
Just as he had unconsciously tried to kill his own father...what if, without realizing it, he someday chose to kill Grand Duchess Valdrova as well?
The mere possibility that such a thing still existed within him...was an unbearable burden.
But how could he ever tell Luri that?
He didn’t want to place any more burdens upon her.
"Stop saying such pathetic things."
Luri scolded him with a dissatisfied frown.
"You are the Regent of Grand Duchess Valdrova’s domain, the ruler of Hestia Village, and the fiancé of the Great Flame."
"Didn’t you resolve yourself to wear the crown, even if it meant risking your neck?"
"..."
"Then you mustn’t say such weak things."
"Stand up straight."
"Square your shoulders."
"And wear an expression worthy of your position."
"Someone like Lord Ferda doesn’t have the luxury of indulging in worries like these."
"You shouldn’t waste your time in a place like this."
"Go back and do your work."
Luri took another step closer.
"If Lord Ferda ever loses his judgment..."
Her small hands slowly reached out.
"Then with these hands..."
She gently wrapped them around his neck.
The warmth of her soft skin spread against him.
Guided by her touch, Ferda slowly raised his head.
What Luri wore...was the clumsy mask of an adult.
"I will execute you."
Yet despite those bold words, the mask gradually began to crack.
"So..."
Sadness filled her face.
"Please..."
"...Leave that foolish expression behind here."
"Only at this very moment."
His emotions were beginning to consume even Luri.
If she was affected this deeply...how much worse would it be for Valdrova?
She would suffer even more.
Ferda felt his mind gradually clearing once again.
"I’ve relied on you again."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Thank you."
***
Meanwhile, someone was watching Ferda and Luri from afar.
It was Olivia Arken.
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