My Slain Dragon Bride

Chapter 48: Chapter 48

Chapter 48 - The Shape of the Shadow

Ferda returned to the dark room once again.

Instead of going to sleep, he intended to continue practicing his cultivation method.

The Mana Cultivation Method, Shape of Shadow.

If ordinary mages were to rank cultivation methods by difficulty, this one would easily be placed in the upper tier.

However, Ferda was a man who had already walked paths far harsher and more arduous than this.

To him, something of this level posed no problem at all.

All he needed was for his Circle to begin moving.

And at last, it did.

’The amount is absurdly insufficient.’

Ferda knew a way to force it.

Had he done so, he could have advanced to the Fifth Circle immediately.

But he chose not to.

Because he knew better than anyone how dangerous it was to be consumed by emotion.

Ferda remained wary of those emotions as he searched for an answer.

And at last, he found it.

Ferda closed his eyes.

He spread the flow of Mana throughout his body and focused on every part of himself.

Then, slowly tipping everything over, he overturned it all.

Every image within Ferda’s mind sank to the very bottom.

His consciousness was projected into the world of shadows.

Within the flickering candlelight, a wavering shadow danced softly with each breath.

The shadow suddenly began moving on its own, creeping toward Ferda before slowly coiling around his body.

The shadow that had wrapped itself around him descended into his Dantian, where it faced the crimson Circle.

’Valdrova.’

Without his consent, Ferda’s mind began imagining Valdrova.

There lived a mad painter inside his head.

The painter repeatedly drew the same image upon a canvas, only to destroy it each time, never satisfied.

Thousands of paintings were created.

Thousands more were destroyed.

The emptiness within him was more than mere longing.

’It was something I wanted to understand ever since I reached the Third Circle.’

A question that had disappeared while he stopped Valdrova’s rampage.

Yet in the end, Ferda finally discovered the truth.

The image of Valdrova he had been painting all this time contained an empty space that could never be filled.

Within that empty space were two simple syllables.

’Tomorrow.’

At that instant, the mad painter inside his heart began to move.

Unlike before, when it had been driven by rage, this time it burned with passion.

Upon a far larger canvas, he boldly painted the image of Valdrova.

’Her tomorrow.’

Not merely her tomorrow alone.

’The tomorrow... where I am with her.’

Into the place that had remained empty, he placed himself.

The painting became a single sentence.

’I want to share tomorrow with her.’

The instant that sentence was completed, something astonishing happened.

The pictures that had once been nothing more than shallow imagination suddenly came to life.

Ferda recognized it.

’Childhood innocence.’

A dream once dreamed long ago by a frail little boy.

The vague image of the companion he had once imagined was overwritten by the image of a beautiful woman with crimson hair and four horns.

It was a dream.

And at the same time, it was ecstasy.

Ecstasy was the pinnacle of emotion.

It moved.

The feelings swelling beyond control stirred the Circle violently.

If left alone, Ferda was destined to destroy himself.

So he concentrated.

Because the future they would share together had to become reality rather than fantasy.

Ferda brought the sense of form he had focused upon into his Circle.

At that moment, dozens of hands gathered the surging Mana and began molding it into shape.

’It’s easy.’

This was on an entirely different level from merely scooping Mana upward with a single hand.

Compared to this, creating his First and Second Circles had been far more difficult.

’Too easy.’

His power pressed in from every direction, leaving the Mana with nowhere to escape.

The rotation continued rotating.

The form continued taking shape.

And so, it was covered with the shell of a brand-new form.

That was how Ferda reached the Fourth Circle.

Ferda opened his eyes.

The shadows squirmed before gradually transforming into the shape of a hand.

It was the Third-Tier spell, Shadow Hand.

No...

It existed on an entirely different level from that Shadow Hand.

This was not some artificial construct created by magic.

It was another body part that had always been hidden within Ferda himself.

He adapted to it immediately.

’The shadow is me.’

One hand divided, creating another.

Those hands divided again into more hands.

Then those hands created still more.

They continued multiplying without end.

The cramped room was soon filled with countless black hands.

’I am the shadow itself.’

Unable to withstand the overwhelming darkness, the candle quietly went out.

***

The Guild.

A guild was an organization that verified the identities of its members and granted them benefits.

In return, it held them accountable for their actions, governed them through rules, and demanded unity whenever it served their collective interests.

Its true nature was protecting its members’ rights through the power of the organization.

However, the Cerdes Magic Association was fundamentally different from an ordinary guild.

Rather than certification, it emphasized surveillance.

Rather than benefits, it emphasized control.

That was the world in which mages lived across the Cerdes Continent.

Its founder was Erdes Roton.

A war hero who had been one of the twelve members of the expedition that united to defeat the Demon King during the Dragon-Demon War.

She was also the founder of the Magic Association.

Even after a hundred and fifty years, she was still alive and remained active.

The mage who had never relinquished the title of humanity’s strongest mage, even in the current generation.

The embodiment of wisdom.

A living witness.

Though she possessed experience that no one could ignore, she looked younger than women in the prime of their youth.

"You have official duties to attend to."

"I don’t wannaaa!!"

Far from merely looking young, she threw a childish tantrum.

"I don’t want to work! Leave me alone!"

"Your official duties have been piling up for days. Just look at this! There are so many documents stacked up that I can’t even see your face anymore!"

"I stacked them up because I didn’t want to see yours. Let Blue handle it."

"How am I supposed to do that? And my name is Lu."

"No one’s going to die just because they’re delayed a little. If they don’t like it, tell them to come complain to my face."

"But you never open the door for them."

"I always open it when they challenge me to a duel."

"What kind of lunatic would challenge the Association President to a fight?"

She was both a hero of the Dragon-Demon War and humanity’s strongest mage.

With the overwhelming gap between their Circles, there was theoretically no one who could defeat her.

"And that’s exactly the problem. They all claim they’re risking their lives, but the moment I ask, ’Want to die?’ they immediately shout, ’I’d rather live!’ and run away. No backbone at all."

"You crippled the last person who actually risked his life."

"I just failed to hold back a little. We reached an amicable agreement afterward, didn’t we?"

She brushed it off as though it were nothing.

As her secretary, there was little Lu could do besides sigh and hand over another stack of documents.

"Here’s the list of attendees for the Grand Ducal Council. Please look it over."

Not that it matters if you don’t.

Lu muttered those words under his breath.

With a simple flick of Erdes’s finger, the document floated into her hand.

"Looks like there are a lot of old fossils I know. At their age, shouldn’t they be handing everything over to their sons already? How long are they planning to cling to power?"

"I couldn’t agree more."

The secretary looked at Erdes with a meaningful gaze.

"Take your eyes off me before I pluck them out. Understand?"

As Erdes casually skimmed the list, her gaze suddenly stopped.

"Is there a problem?"

"I thought I might’ve read it wrong."

She read the same word over and over.

"But I didn’t. Blue, did you seriously botch this job?"

"Pardon?"

Caught completely off guard by the sudden outburst, he froze.

She pointed to a single name on the list.

"The surname of this man here is written as Valdrova."

"Ah, that’s actually the real name of the Red Dragon, Valdrova. It isn’t a clerical error on my part, nor was it a mistake by the organizers."

"Swear you’re not lying."

"I swear. We even have official records."

Erdes shrugged awkwardly.

"So that terrifying dragon has done something unusual. Then is he one of Valdrova’s Dragon Spawn?"

"Uh... you didn’t know?"

Erdes smiled faintly.

But her expression turned frighteningly cold.

"What exactly don’t I know? That I’m an ignorant little girl? Or that your head might come flying off today?"

"Gah! That’s not what I meant! I had absolutely no intention of insulting or mocking you. This is purely—"

"The point."

"Right... He’s the fiancé of the Red Dragon, Valdrova."

"Fiancé?"

Childish as Erdes could be, she still understood what it meant to be Valdrova’s fiancé.

"For real?"

"Pardon?"

"I asked if it’s real."

"Y-Yes. It’s real."

"How fascinating. I’ve never seen someone willingly walk toward a death sentence... Get me this Ferda’s records."

"R-Right away!"

The secretary placed both hands against his temples and chanted a spell.

"Search, Ferda Valdrova."

The instant the spell ended, bundles of paper squeezed through the gap beneath the office door and neatly stacked themselves before him.

After finishing the spell, the secretary handed them to Erdes.

"H-Here they are!"

Her eyes rapidly scanned the documents.

"Let’s see... Third son of House Rosnova... Hmm..."

Erdes’s gaze gradually became calmer.

The farther down she read, the more serious her expression became.

"Blue."

"Yes."

"When does the Grand Ducal Council begin?"

Lu’s eyes widened.

"Five days from now. Don’t tell me you’re actually planning to attend?"

"I was going to skip it because it’d probably be nothing but boring discussions... but now I’m thinking it might be worth going."

Erdes stared intently at Ferda’s portrait.

"Besides, I’d at least get to see this ridiculously handsome idiot."

"Isn’t your attendance itself what truly matters? It may be late, but I’ll have a carriage prepared immediately—"

"No need."

Erdes casually twirled her finger through the air.

A circular portal formed along the path she had traced.

"If there’s an easier way, why bother with something so troublesome?"

A Fifth-Tier spell—Teleport Door.

She effortlessly cast such an advanced spell without an incantation or even a Magic Circle.

For any mage, it would have been a miraculous sight they might never witness again in their lifetime.

But Lu felt more anxiety than awe.

"Well then, Lu. I’m off to handle my official duties."

"...What?"

"Take good care of things while I’m gone. And don’t forget to feed the cats!"

"Association President! Wait a moment!"

"I’m off~!"

The Association President cheerfully waved before leaping into the Teleport Door.

"If you’re going to use a portal anyway, couldn’t you at least finish your overdue paperwork before leaving?! Aaaaaah!!"

Lu’s desperate scream echoed through the room as the portal quietly closed.

***

Ten days before the Grand Ducal Council.

Ferda finished making preparations for his journey to the Central Region of the continent.

He had to leave now if he wished to reach Blancaros’s territory in the Central Region.

’Tradition really is useless.’

The higher one’s status, the more one was expected to possess.

That included time, and having the leisure to spare was considered a virtue of the nobility.

To Ferda, who had experienced the future, it all seemed ridiculous.

Once mana-powered automobiles became commonplace, that leisurely culture disappeared.

Instead, the nobles became obsessed with finding faster means of transportation.

"Your Excellency the Regent, may I come in?"

It was Zed rather than Luri.

As a member of Castle Valdrova, he wore the crimson formal uniform.

It was the prescribed attire for all vassals of the Grand Duchess Valdrova’s domain.

"Sir Arwen and the soldiers under his command, sent by Count Consilus, have just arrived."

"I see."

"We’ve finished preparing the carriage as well. All that’s left is for you to board it... Hm?"

Zed slowly looked Ferda up and down with a puzzled expression.

"Is something wrong?"

"Not exactly. I was just wondering if you’re really going wearing that..."

Ferda’s clothing was remarkably plain.

Nobles were beings who did everything they could to make themselves stand out.

Decorating garments with jeweled threads that shimmered was practically the standard.

Among those, gold thread was considered indispensable.

When he had entered the royal palace, Ferda had been dressed in crimson garments embroidered with gold thread.

But now he wore black accented only with crimson.

Even its sheen was no more than what lightly starched fabric would produce.

Compared to other nobles, his attire was exceedingly modest.

"I’ve never cared much for gold."

"Who in the world dislikes gold?"

Zed reacted as though the idea were absurd.

After giving Ferda’s clothes another glance, he offered his own assessment.

"Without all that gold, you’ll end up looking about the same as me."

"Excellent. Then some tasteless assassin will be less likely to target me."

"I doubt they’ll mistake me for you. You’re far too handsome to pass off as a decoy."

Zed flashed a smile overflowing with narcissism.

Ignoring him, Ferda picked up an object resting on the table.

"Catch."

The distance was too great for Zed to receive it directly.

Just as he was about to step forward, something astonishing happened.

Swish.

A shadow extended from Ferda’s hand, grasped the object, and carried it over to Zed.

Though visibly startled by the shadow hand, Zed did his best not to show it.

"What is this?"

"The item I promised you."

Hearing those words, Zed examined what he had received.

"I, Ferda Valdrova, husband of Valdrova, her representative, and Regent, acting on behalf of the great one among the Great Twelve Rulers, Valdrova, ruler of strength and flame, hereby appoint Zed Swallow as the King’s Sword, the people’s Shield..."

He didn’t need to read the entire tongue-twisting document to realize what it was.

"A knighthood decree?"

Zed lifted his head, eyes wide.

"...Is this real?"

"Would I hand you a fake one? Wasn’t this the very promise upon which you joined me?"

"I mean, you did say you’d help me enter high society, but I never expected you’d make me a knight right away."

Becoming a knight was the first step toward entering the nobility.

Unless one belonged to a hereditary Knight Family or achieved remarkable military accomplishments, it was nearly impossible.

"Is it really okay for me to receive something like this already?"

"You needn’t worry. Your abilities were more than sufficiently proven in the Imperial Treasury."

"No, that’s not what I meant..."

Zed waved both hands.

"Shouldn’t something like this come with a grand banquet?"

"..."

"With beautiful women, music, plenty of drinks... It feels wrong to skip all the important parts."

As Zed mimed raising a drinking glass, Ferda stared at him silently.

Perhaps I should just take it back.

"Focus on your duties, Sir Zed."

"Tch... Understood, Your Excellency the Regent."

My party...

Still grumbling to himself, Zed left the room.

"I should get ready as well."

Normally, Luri would have attended to him.

But there was no need for that anymore.

Swish.

Black mist stretched out from Ferda’s sleeves and chest.

The mist formed into eight hands, which immediately began attending to him.

They fastened his buttons and straightened his clothing until every detail was nearly perfect.

’As expected, reaching the Fourth Circle was worth it.’

For now, he only used them for simple tasks like this because he was still inexperienced.

But those hands were his own arms.

Once he became accustomed to them, they could construct Magic Circles and catch enemies completely off guard.

His talent still remained.

All that was left was practice and experience.

"Shall we?"

The sound of Ferda’s footsteps echoed through the corridor.

By the time he reached the gate of the inner castle alone, numerous soldiers had already assembled below.

"Show your respect!"

Arwen’s booming voice echoed across the courtyard.

The soldiers moved in perfect unison and dropped to one knee.

It was only a single motion, yet it revealed just how brutally they had been trained.

"I, Arwen Wolfheart, along with the thirty soldiers under my command, have received orders to carry out your escort mission!"

"We have received our orders!"

The knights shouted as one.

Ferda slowly swept his gaze across each of them before giving a slight nod.

"I’ll be counting on all of you."

"Yes, sir! To your positions!"

Arwen mounted his horse, while the soldiers formed a defensive escort formation.

Beside Arwen, Zed was already seated on horseback.

It had not even been a full day since he had become a knight, yet, true to his reputation as a notorious swindler of women’s hearts, he already looked the part.

Ferda turned his attention toward the waiting carriage.

There stood a crimson carriage.

Beside it was the maid, Luri.

As always, she wore an expressionless, businesslike face as she held the carriage door open.

"Please, step inside."

"Very well."

Just as Ferda was about to leave the castle and board the carriage—

He suddenly felt someone’s gaze.

Turning his head slightly, he looked back toward the castle.

A balcony overlooking the castle gate from the inner keep.

There was no one there.

Of course there wasn’t.

What exactly was I expecting?

"Lord Ferda?"

"Let’s go."

Ferda climbed into the carriage, and it began to move.

The long journey of ten days passed in the blink of an eye.