My Slain Dragon Bride

Chapter 49: Chapter 49

Chapter 49 - White House

The Central Region of the Cerdes Continent

In the middle of a vast, evenly spread plain stood a solitary castle.

The land was fertile and open enough to make perfect farmland, yet nothing grew there except lush green grass.

There were no traces of people or living creatures anywhere nearby.

It looked like an island resting upon a sea of emerald.

This was the domain of Blancaros, as well as the meeting hall of the Grand Ducal Council, where all major affairs across the continent were discussed.

It was commonly known as the White House.

Ferda had finally arrived.

’Is this the place?’

Ferda looked up at the castle gate.

The gate was already open.

To ordinary people, that was all there was to see, but those accustomed to Mana, like Ferda, could perceive something more.

In front of the gate stretched a translucent white barrier, forming a dome-shaped protective field.

Order and Territory.

As long as those two conditions were fulfilled, no one within Blancaros’s domain could defy him.

Not even a god.

"You may put your mind at ease."

A young man’s voice came from beyond the gate.

Turning toward the voice, Ferda saw a man standing there.

"Lord Blancaros is generous to those who uphold rules and order."

Ferda examined the man’s appearance.

He wore pure white clothing, and his skin was equally pale.

His deathly complexion resembled that of a vampire.

It would have been convincing—had it not been for the pair of horns and unusual eyes.

Placing a hand over his chest, the man introduced himself.

"My apologies for the late introduction. I am the Hand of Blancaros, and I have been assigned to guide you, Lord Ferda."

Just as expected, he was one of Blancaros’s Dragon Spawn.

Blancaros had a total of three Dragon Spawn—the Hand, the Tongue, and the Scales.

As their titles implied, each specialized in the function of the body part they represented.

Unlike the Dragon Spawn of other dragons, they were known for being remarkably courteous.

"Please, come inside. I shall guide you."

And none of them could leave Blancaros’s domain.

"Very well."

Ferda extended his hand into the domain.

At that instant, he felt countless tiny particles slipping between the pores of his skin.

Soon, he noticed something strange happening to the Circles within his Dantian.

They were gradually slowing down.

It wasn’t as though they were being obstructed by some foreign object.

Rather, it felt completely natural—as if the power itself was willingly easing under Ferda’s own intent.

’Truly astonishing.’

An absolute domain.

Its absoluteness even applied to its owner, making it incomparably delicate and flawless.

However, the suppression did not completely render him powerless.

The message it conveyed was perfectly clear.

’If you believe you can harm me, then by all means, try.’

But no one would escape Blancaros’s staff of judgment.

Without even the slightest room for excuses.

That was the point it sought to emphasize.

’At least Shadow Hand should still function.’

Even his concentration needed to construct a Magic Circle was being interfered with.

But as long as he did not need to create one, it posed no issue.

After all, Shape of Shadow had been developed precisely for situations like this.

Ferda glanced behind him.

Zed and Arwen, who had been following him, also looked noticeably uncomfortable.

"How does it feel to step into this domain?"

"It doesn’t feel very pleasant. It’s like... a sense of helplessness. Even my eyes feel stiff."

"I feel the same. It feels like my strength is draining away. I don’t think I can use my Aura..."

A knight could no longer use Aura, while Zed’s unique abilities as a member of the Red-Eyed Clan were also being suppressed.

"Luri, what about you?"

"I’m perfectly fine."

"Is that so?"

The conversation ended simply.

But anyone watching the two of them would have found the exchange rather strange.

Arwen quietly leaned toward Zed and whispered,

"Did something happen between that Spawn lady and the Regent?"

"No idea. I’ve decided not to get involved with anything over there."

When dragons fought, it was humans who got caught in the crossfire.

Having already experienced it once, Zed shuddered at the memory.

"There are still five hours until the summit begins. Would you like to retire to your room, or would you prefer the banquet hall?"

"What’s the difference?"

"Rest, or social interaction. Many distinguished guests have already gathered in the banquet hall."

"Then naturally we should head to the banquet hall, shouldn’t we?"

Zed’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

Ferda looked at him as though he were pathetic, prompting Zed to hurriedly defend himself.

"Think about it. Know your enemy and know yourself, and you need not fear a hundred battles. Wouldn’t it be wise to observe our opponents beforehand?"

"I was thinking the same thing."

"Then why did you give me that look?"

"Because that’s not why you’re going."

Zed shot him an indignant glare, yet he couldn’t bring himself to deny it.

"Please guide us to the banquet hall."

"As you wish."

The Hand of Blancaros began leading the way.

Before following him, Ferda lightly patted Zed on the shoulder.

"Enjoy the banquet to your heart’s content."

"Huh? Ah... yes. Thank you."

As they walked, those words lingered uneasily in Zed’s mind.

He kept turning them over in his head.

’No way...’

Surely not.

But... maybe.

If it were Ferda, he just might.

Unable to shake the feeling, Zed cautiously asked,

"You aren’t... planning to use this banquet as a substitute for my investiture banquet... are you?"

"..."

"You... aren’t... right?"

Ferda never answered.

***

The banquet hall of the White House.

With only five hours remaining until the summit, many nobles had already gathered there.

Had the number of companions per guest not been restricted, the banquet hall would already have been overflowing.

The massive white doors slowly opened, allowing laughter and music to spill out from within.

"Oh."

For the first time, Ferda stepped into the Grand Ducal Council.

Even someone as unsentimental as Ferda couldn’t help letting out a quiet exclamation.

The Empire’s buildings were certainly magnificent.

But they were, in the end, creations of mankind.

The dragons’ architecture was on an entirely different level.

Inside, people already accustomed to such splendor laughed and chatted freely.

Nor were humans the only ones present.

The High Chieftain of the elves, dwarves, gnomes, and even races that normally had little interaction with human society had all gathered there.

"Wow..."

This time, it was Arwen who couldn’t suppress his amazement.

Watching him, Zed chuckled.

"First time at a party, Sir Knight?"

"No. I’ve attended quite a few official banquets while accompanying the Count."

"Then stop looking like some country bumpkin. Everyone can tell."

"R-Right..."

At Zed’s warning, Arwen obediently fixed his gaze straight ahead.

Even so, his awkwardness remained.

’Consilus was right.’

He was a man who needed experience.

Unlike the country boy Arwen, neither Zed nor Luri was swept away by the atmosphere.

Zed was simply too accustomed to noble society.

Luri, on the other hand, always did things at her own pace.

As for the emotion Ferda felt beneath all this splendor...

’It feels like I’ve walked into a nest of vipers.’

Disgust.

It was on an entirely different level from the power struggles among provincial lords.

The moment their eyes met, it already felt like a battle.

Even the seemingly friendly gazes continuously scanned him, searching for weaknesses.

Every greeting and every polite farewell felt as though they were evaluating his worth.

’That’s precisely why they became high nobles... or kings of their nations.’

They possessed power.

The power to remain where they stood.

The power to climb to the positions they desired.

The power to drag down anyone occupying those positions.

So what should one do when surrounded by such people?

The answer was remarkably simple.

Ferda merely straightened his back and walked forward proudly.

Meeting each of their gazes in turn, he carefully read the flow of the room.

Even in a gathering meant for socializing, people naturally clustered around their own factions.

Ferda thought to himself.

If...

If I were to join one of these groups...

Which one should I choose?

As that thought crossed his mind, someone caught his attention.

"Haha! You’ve arrived, Regent Valdrova!"

Among the clustered groups of nobles stood a man and several women dressed more extravagantly than anyone else.

Surrounded as though they were the very center of attention, the man waved Ferda over.

On his shoulder was embroidered the crest of the Arken Empire.

’Alexander Arken.’

The First Prince of the Arken Empire.

***

The incompetent emperor, Godfrey Arken.

The First Prince, Alexander Arken, and the Second Prince, Ureas Arken, had struggled desperately to overthrow him.

They proclaimed it to be the dawn of a new era for the Empire.

Yet the outcome had been disastrous.

Godfrey remained firmly on the throne.

His two sons became laughingstocks.

’The two incompetent sons who couldn’t even depose an incompetent emperor.’

Public opinion had become so bad that people now regarded Godfrey as the better option.

Rather than weakening his position, they had only strengthened it.

To Ferda, who desired the Empire’s downfall, the two princes were nothing but useless fools.

"Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Alexander Arken."

The eldest prince, Alexander Arken.

A distinguished man in his thirties, with a magnificently groomed beard that seemed to proclaim he was already emperor.

"Ferda Valdrova greets Your Highness, the First Prince."

"I sent you a letter before, but I’m sorry I couldn’t reply afterward. State affairs kept me so busy that I barely had time to breathe."

Yeah, right.

As Ferda thought that to himself, the woman standing beside Alexander chimed in.

"Haha! With a hundred million subjects waiting on the prince, even two bodies wouldn’t be enough, would they?"

Unlike the prince, who shone in gold, she was dressed in brilliant blue.

Her youthful appearance contrasted sharply with her hearty laughter, which bordered on arrogance.

Yet even Alexander dared not offend her.

Despite her appearance, she was well over a hundred years old.

"Who’s this handsome young man? Aren’t you going to introduce him to me, Your Highness?"

"Ah, of course! My apologies! Allow me to introduce her. This is Lady Erdes Roton, President of the Magic Association of the Cerdes Continent."

Erdes Roton.

Roton.

Once the greatest family of alchemists—and later infamous as the greatest family of swindlers.

Erdes was the last surviving member of that bloodline.

She possessed neither territory nor noble title.

All she had was the power of the Seventh Circle.

Yet under that single name, every mage in human society was managed and controlled by her.

No—

They had to be controlled.

She was the kind of woman who would never be satisfied otherwise.

"My name is Ferda Valdrova. It is a true honor to meet the great Grand Mage."

"Haha! I’ve always wanted to see the Grand Duchess with my own eyes, but it seems I’ve met her fiancé first."

"I heard it was difficult for you to attend this gathering."

"Of course it is. This is a place meant for mortals, not immortals."

She smiled.

It was less a smile of joy and more the kind that came from sheer habit.

Her eyes quietly studied Ferda.

"Regent Valdrova... no, I’ll call you Regent Ferda. I’m simply not used to saying the name Valdrova. You don’t mind, do you?"

"As you wish."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"From a family of mages?"

"No. I was the third son of a knight from House Rosnova."

Her eyes widened into perfect circles.

"Hmm, how remarkable! I’ve heard that knights practice Mana Cultivation Methods, but only as a minor discipline. Yet what I sense from your body is that of a mage."

"I trained as a mage."

"Oh? To achieve so much at such a young age. Hahaha!"

Her hearty laughter echoed as her tongue never stopped moving.

"I heard it from the prince. They say you rendered great service in rooting out those rats within the Empire."

"Rats?"

"The black mages."

He remembered.

She was referring to the group of black mages hiding beneath the underground waterways.

In truth, he had left them alone because they would inevitably become obstacles to anyone trying to bring down the Empire.

Ferda did not lie.

"I merely made a small contribution toward a much larger plan."

"Don’t be so modest. Your accomplishments didn’t end there, did they? You also dealt with the Teshalos Wolcher incident."

This time she referred to what had happened before the engagement ceremony, when all the lords had been gathered.

A man Ferda had never intended to kill—

Yet one who ultimately had to die.

"I heard that damned fool had been researching Black Magic."

"That is correct."

"It was impressive. According to the records, he was nothing more than an untalented mage. But consumed by rage, he mutated into a Red Circle user. It seems he achieved quite a bit after that."

Erdes leaned forward.

"After falling into Black Magic, that is."

The wine in her glass slowly swirled.

"Did you know? I absolutely despise black mages."

It was common knowledge that she loathed black mages.

Toward anyone who practiced Black Magic, she believed in zero tolerance.

She would strip them of their qualifications, shatter their Circles, and ensure they could never live as mages again.

"To what extent, you ask? If I had to breathe the same air as one of them, I’d feel like strangling myself."

"Is that so?"

"Those talentless fools sell their souls to demons, then dress up the power they gain as though it were the result of hard work. All without realizing they’ll eventually become puppets worth less than dogs, wandering spirits unable to escape their miserable fate."

Her half-lidded eyes glowed with a brilliant blue light.

"What about you, Lord Ferda? What do you think of those who practice Black Magic?"

What shone within her eyes was unmistakable hatred.

The kind of hatred directed at black mages.

"And what if someone were to inherit the art of Necromancy, using monsters to command the undead? What do you think would happen then?"

That hatred was directed straight at Ferda.

Its meaning was unmistakable.

’I know who you are.’

She knew Ferda possessed the Red Circle.

She knew he had practiced Black Magic.

That was why she looked at him with such naked hatred.

As the strongest mage among humanity, her hatred alone was enough to inspire fear.

’But do you know even that?’

That your hatred ended up tightening around your own neck.

That you fell into the grave dug by your own hatred.

And the one who pushed you into that grave...

Was none other than me.