Karma

The strike had ended, and the disputes had been settled.

The incidents that had occurred in Hestia Village had, for the time being, been brought to an end.

Of course, they had been resolved for the people of Hestia Village, but Ferda still had more problems left to deal with.

‘The Demonkin’s Return.’

In the end, Bernard Wayne, the chancellor of Escolleia, had been right in his prediction.

It had been confirmed that Gokma, one of those once called the Seven Calamities, was still alive.

‘And he’s strong.’

The amount of visible mana was not particularly great, but its depth was extraordinary.

He possessed the ability to create a subspace simply by drawing a finger through the air.

He could distort and destroy a designated location with a single snap of his fingers.

All of it surpassed Ferda’s abilities.

‘If we meet again, can I fight that bastard and win?’

The cards Ferda had in hand.

And the data he had obtained while observing Gokma.

He had fought him hundreds of times in his head, repeating each battle over and over.

‘My odds of victory are somewhere after the decimal point.’

Even that prediction of victory was based on the assumption that an unexpected miracle would occur.

Moreover, the imaginary Gokma had been measured using only the level of power Ferda had currently identified.

If they fought in earnest and Gokma brought out the cards he had hidden, Ferda had no means of responding.

In other words, no matter what he did, the probability of Ferda winning would converge on zero percent.

‘I have to grow stronger.’

He needed the power to reach a higher realm and crush Gokma beneath his heel.

‘But is that possible now?’

A demesne had come into existence, and he had to coordinate everything under the Grand Duchy’s rule.

If his workload grew, it would only become busier, and the busier he became, the more he would neglect his training and duties as a mage.

‘Perhaps now, of all times, is when I need to train even harder.’

But how convenient would it be if things could really go as he wished?

The Red Circle fundamentally moved according to violent fluctuations of emotion.

They said affection and hatred were separated by only a single sheet of paper.

There was a reason the word “love-hate” existed.

If he fell into a misguided state of mind, he would descend along the path of hatred he knew, and only vigilance and perseverance would lead to proper growth.

‘But how strong could I become by doing that?’

He had a lamp, but it was nowhere near enough to illuminate all the fog.

He did not know what lay along the road Ferda was walking.

‘What if I could…… use that power again?’

The Red Circle that operated through anger.

That was a path Ferda knew, and he knew how to walk it.

With an opponent like Gokma, Ferda might be able to subdue him with ease.

There was a possibility.

Then, as though waking from sleep, he shook the thought away.

‘……I’m really getting carried away.’

He could hardly believe he had been agonizing over such a foolish thought.

That power must never be created in any way.

Hadn’t it ultimately been the emotion that killed Waldrova?

He must never think he could control it.

Ferda had been trapped in that delusion for ten years.

Ferda moved on to the next possibility as though fleeing.

‘Then perhaps I need a means…….’

A staff imbued with mana, or a scroll inscribed with a magic circle.

Alternatively, something created through magitech could also serve as his means.

‘What I used long ago was…….’

It was a staff called the ‘Sixth Element.’

The ultimate weapon he had obtained after a weeklong battle in the Immortal King’s tomb.

‘That is not something I can use.’

It was an artifact of the Immortal King, once a public enemy of the continent in the era before the Dragon-Demon War.

Back then, Ferda had been alone anyway and was practically a vicious criminal, so it had not mattered whether he used it or not.

It would not matter if only his own standing suffered, but using it would endanger Waldrova.

‘Still, there is something comparable.’

A branch struck by the Heaven-Defying Lightning.

It was something he had been given after distinguishing himself during the monster incident in Halim.

He had not shown it to anyone in particular and had merely left it lying around for a while.

If he made a staff from it, he would be able to wield the powerful, pure force of the Heaven-Defying Lightning.

‘But it would not be easy to make.’

It was only natural that the higher the power and efficiency of a spell, the greater its difficulty.

A hundred years ago, perhaps, but in Ferda’s generation there were no enchanters or blacksmiths skilled enough to withstand the Heaven-Defying Lightning.

Even the dwarven villages in the southwest would not handle a witch’s artifact, and if he asked the elves, they would react with hostility, as though asking whether he was making fun of them.

‘I have no choice but to persuade the dwarves.’

He had a feeling that, if he kept persuading them, they might somehow make it for him.

While he was sitting there, a visitor arrived.

Knock.

Knock.

The knocking came at long intervals.

The door opened cautiously, accompanied by a sound that seemed timid even to the listener.

“Mr. Ferda? Are you busy?”

The head of a terrifying dragon appeared.

It was Waldrova.

“No, it’s fine. Do you need mana?”

“Yes, a little today too…….”

“I understand.”

They had grown accustomed to this, so there was no need for a deep conversation.

She was wearing dragoon armor that stood well over 2 m tall.

The only part of her flesh left exposed was her right hand.

Ferda injected his mana into that hand.

‘It’s warm, as expected.’

The mana sinking into her chest calmed her anxious heart.

She had felt it several times, but it made her so comfortable that she wanted to feel it several times more.

Perhaps that was why she momentarily forgot even the reason she had come here.

‘That’s not why I came!’

The reason Waldrova had deliberately come here and taken up Ferda’s time was that she had made a major decision.

‘I want to choose today’s topic of conversation myself.’

Wasn’t that why she had kept doing this?

As it happened, there was something she was curious about.

‘What does Mr. Ferda think about the Armor Knight?’

Her heart began to flutter.

Thinking about it, the question was no different from asking what he thought of her.

‘I’ll ask.’

Suppressing her pounding heart, Waldrova struggled to open her mouth.

“M-Mr. Ferda!”

“Yes.”

“Um…… Ruri was saying recently…….”

The words kept slipping out with little force.

Because of the voice modulator, they sounded to Ferda like a sorrowful echo.

Ferda calmly responded.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…… the, the person called the Armor Knight was incredibly! A, active……!”

She even bit her tongue, and her excitement abruptly died.

“I-I heard about him…….”

“Ah, you mean that person.”

Ferda seemed surprised.

He did not know why she had suddenly become curious about such a thing.

Waldrova desperately suppressed the truth that was trying to escape her lips.

“I-I heard from Ruri that he really…… cares about the village.”

“That’s true.”

It was true.

Hearing that, her anxious heart soared astonishingly.

“Really?”

“Back when we had not yet received support from Halim, his strength played a major role. Thanks to him, we were able to put up many more buildings much faster.”

“I-Is that so?”

So he thought she had been helpful.

A pointless feeling of pride welled up inside her.

“At first, I was worried he might be a rebellious traitor plotting treason…….”

“But then?”

“It was a misunderstanding.”

Her voice held a small spark of hope.

“You mean he’s a good person?”

“He is a good person.”

Waldrova felt as though she could spread her wings and flap away on the spot.

“But he seems to have quite a few problems in other respects.”

“……Huh?”

That feeling lasted only a moment.

The higher she rose, the farther she had to fall.

“He seems extremely foolish.”

“F-Foolish?”

“Even at this council, it was obvious people were leading him around, so he doesn’t seem very intelligent.”

“That’s…….”

“If someone wears knight’s armor and keeps the vow of silence, the ability to write should be especially important, yet his handwriting is a mess and he can’t follow even a single spelling rule…….”

“…….”

“A man like that is bound to have his life tangled up if he meets the wrong people. I was a little worried about him.”

“…….”

Ferda glanced at her hand.

“Are you all right?”

“……Yes, yes?”

“Your hand is bright red.”

Her hand, once white as jade, had turned red as a radish.

Waldrova checked it as well and hurriedly pulled her hand away.

“I-It’s nothing…….”

“It may be a rejection response or something. I should examine it more closely—.”

“I-I really mean it! It’s nothing, so you don’t need to worry about it!”

Waldrova sprang to her feet.

Ferda was startled by her sudden movement.

“I think I’ll leave early today.”

“Have you had enough? It seems I gave you less than usual.”

“Yes, I did need a little…… strength, after all.”

Saying that, she slipped away as though fleeing.

Watching her leave, Ferda realized he had made a mistake.

‘Perhaps speaking ill of someone else was not a good choice after all.’

He had thought he had softened his words as much as possible, but apparently he had been mistaken.

He had gone to all the trouble of bringing up a topic of conversation, only to make her uncomfortable.

‘Next time, I’ll have to cut back.’

Ferda made that resolve and decided to look forward to their next meeting.

* * *

Waldrova immediately returned to her lair.

She climbed out of her armor and lay down right where she stood.

Unlike usual, she hugged her legs.

“Uu…….”

Waldrova let out a quiet moan.

Her body trembled slightly.

“Master, it’s Ruri. I’m coming in.”

Ruri entered the room.

A human cocoon of Waldrova met her eyes.

“……Why are you like that?”

“Rurii…….”

Waldrova lifted her head as she called Ruri’s name.

Her face had flushed as red as her hair.

“…….”

Ruri knew why she was acting like that.

She had already heard what they had talked about.

With tears welling in her eyes, Waldrova buried herself in the little attendant’s chest.

“Please tell me.”

“Mr. Ferda…… Mr. Ferda called me an idiot…….”

“…….”

“Can’t you at least deny it for me?”

She looked up with tearful eyes, but Ruri did not move an inch.

“Didn’t I tell you to study a little in your spare time?”

“I did…… I did, buuut…….”

“Besides, you’ve heard that often. Is it really something to react to like this?”

“Iorqa said so too, and so did the others, but…….”

Waldrova hugged her legs tightly and whined in a sorrowful voice.

“It hurts more because it was Mr. Ferda.”

“He didn’t say it directly to you, did he?”

“That’s why it’s even more upsetting! He usually speaks so kindly, but doesn’t he secretly think I’m a complete idiot?”

“…….”

“Please deny it. I’m really going to cry.”

Waldrova became even more miserable at Ruri’s reaction.

“There is no need to worry. If you make an effort, Master, he will surely recognize that side of you as well.”

“Do you think so?”

“So…….”

Ruri held out two books to her.

-Spelling Made Easy for Children

-How to Become an Elegant Young Lady: Let’s Practice Writing Beautifully!

“You should, shouldn’t you?”

Waldrova looked back and forth between Ruri and the two books before struggling to open her mouth.

“……Yes.”

One is never too old to learn.

* * *

That night, Ferda had a dream.

Waldrova was there.

It was not a castle.

A small house.

It was the kind of humble commoner’s house where Ferda had stayed after being thrown out of the castle and losing all his money.

‘This is a dream.’

Since it was not a particularly harmful dream, he decided to simply sit there and wait until he woke up.

“Are you awake?”

A lovely voice tickled his ears.

Ferda had heard that voice only once before.

With a faint sense of anticipation, he raised his head.

Long red hair and golden eyes.

She wore plain clothes and lacked the two pairs of horns and long, slit pupils, but Ferda knew who she was.

‘No doubt about it.’

It was Waldrova.

“What’s wrong? You don’t look well.”

Her hand gently caressed Ferda’s cheek.

A cozy warmth, like coming home, wrapped around his entire body.

Seeing Ferda’s face grow more relaxed, Waldrova smiled shyly.

Perhaps because he was holding her hand, its texture felt incredibly vivid.

He even wondered whether it would be all right to remain trapped in this dream.

“Shall we do that?”

“Do what……?”

When Ferda responded as though he did not understand, Waldrova smiled with her eyes as if he were adorable.

Waldrova leaned her body toward him.

“The thing you’re good at.”

Her soft hand clasped Ferda’s hand.

Ferda’s hand was dragged along without being able to resist.

The place she led it to was her neck.

Ferda was choking her.

“Now, kill me.”

Ferda jerked in surprise and tried to pull his hand away.

But it would not move.

Her hand was fixed firmly in place, and the more he struggled, the tighter it squeezed.

Blood flowed from her golden eyes.

Waldrova’s form melted and twisted.

-Why?

A scream burst from her mouth.

-Why did you kill me?

Countless voices swam through Ferda’s mind.

It was karma.

The karma for the things he had done.

It was karma that could not be avoided even if he returned to the past.

They said karma returned to choke its victim by the neck.

But Ferda’s karma was choking him by the neck instead.

The neck of the person he should love most.

Karma knew that this was the most painful thing it could do to Ferda.

-Why? Why? Why?

-I didn’t do anything…….

-Give our father back!

The chaotic voices grew louder and louder.

Strength gathered in the slender neck.

At the end of the chaos,

a terrible silence descended.

Had he awakened from the dream?

No.

A faint sensation still lingered vividly in his hand.

Ferda.

What he heard from within it was a voice.

Now, listen to my voice again.

That voice was incredibly sweet.

Remember who you are.

Ah.

I am…….

Crack—.

* * *

He opened his eyes to the sound of something bending and snapping.

Cold sweat poured down his body, leaving him thoroughly uncomfortable.

But what was even more unpleasant was this:

‘The circuit…….’

The Red Circle was rotating violently.

Again.

Even though it was not his feelings for Waldrova, the circuit inside his chest was spinning violently.

Ferda forced himself upright.

He emptied his mind.

He emptied it until nothing remained.

Soon, Ferda’s Circle quietly settled down.

It was simpler than he had feared.

But even that simplicity was unwelcome to Ferda.

Because it meant he already knew.

‘Why…….’

It pointed toward something called déjà vu.

That déjà vu was something that should not exist for Ferda.

‘Why is hatred still left in me?’

Because it was the very thing that had made Ferda the Calamity of the Ninth Circle.

* * *

Ferda’s thoughts grew tangled.

This was not a matter of mana determinism or any other such absurdity.

This was something he could actually feel, something that was actually rotating.

Ferda had vaguely felt that it might exist.

‘So…… Was what happened then not a delusion after all?’

Abel Silverwind.

A third-rate villain whose name was not worth remembering, who had threatened Ruri.

At the time, Ferda had made everything in the darkness his own.

By doing so, he had entered Abel’s body and killed him on the spot.

That was something the Fourth Circle could not accomplish, and even Ferda should have found it impossible.

Ferda recalled the sensation from that time.

As though slowly turning back time, he returned to the moment before Abel’s death.

-Are you just going to watch?

‘A voice.’

It was a sweet voice.

It stirred what was inside his body and drew out its power.

The power that had once been seized by anger.

‘Even though I turned back time, is that still left inside me?’

The power that had killed his family,

that had killed innocent people,

and that had even killed the person he loved now,

was inside Ferda.

He was confused.

This was on an entirely different level from merely being bound by mana determinism.

Before, it had been a vague anxiety, but this time it was a fact grounded in evidence.

Knock, knock, knock.

It was the sound of someone knocking on the bedroom door.

Ruri entered the room.

“Lord Ferda.”

“Why are you here?”

Without realizing it, Ferda’s voice held a trace of irritation.

“A guest has arrived.”

“I have no intention of receiving guests today. Send them away.”

“I came to ask because I believe it is someone Lord Ferda knows.”

“Someone I know?”

Who could have come here to meet him in person?

As the names of countless people whirled through his mind, the name that came from Ruri’s lips belonged to an unexpected person.

“Your father, Erembalt Rosnova.”

He was the starting point of the hatred Ferda carried.