Futile Hope

Leaving Vunnel behind with his face sunk in emptiness, Ferda spoke with Count Consilius.

“Speaking of the Grand Council….”

The subject of their conversation was the Grand Council, attended by all the high nobles.

“I received a reply saying they would like me to participate in that matter.”

“Ah, that’s wonderful news. At last, a voice worthy of representing the Far East will be heard….”

A tear trickled from the wrinkles around Consilius’s eyes.

“My apologies. I seem to grow more prone to tears with age.”

“Don’t concern yourself with it. I hear only nobles of ducal rank or higher may attend. Do you know anything about that?”

“I can’t say I know it inside out, but let me rack my brain so I can answer your questions as best I can.”

“What do you think my standing there will be?”

Consilius exhaled and carefully chose his words.

It was undoubtedly not going to be a pleasant answer.

“To be honest, it won’t be good. You’re young and still a novice who hasn’t even been a regent for a year. Moreover, you hold the position of a proxy rather than a joint ruler. To interpret that….”

Consilius toyed with his beard and answered while putting on the act of an arrogant man.

“It would be like handing a real sword to a novice who should still be playing with a toy sword, just as a test….”

“Is that how you see it as well?”

Ferda shot him a sharp question.

Consilius laughed heartily.

“How could that be? Though you have your shortcomings, I at least know that you sincerely wish for the Grand Duchy’s development, seeing how you ask me for advice toward that end.”

“Thank you for saying so.”

“In any case, only five people, including attendants, may enter the White House, Blancaros’s neutral zone. Bringing along an unnecessarily large entourage is prohibited.”

“There’s nothing more laughable than a novice showing off in front of an expert. Do most nobles fill all those positions when they go?”

“That’s right. They dress their attendants as attendants and their heirs as heirs, showing themselves off. If you wish, Regent, I can have my knights serve as your escort and prepare everything so that you can attend in the most splendid fashion possible.”

“There’s no need for that.”

People said a noble’s appearance was important, but Ferda had no desire to compete with false smiles and finery.

“If you have people you wish to take, that’s fine, but couldn’t you take at least one of my men? He won’t disgrace the Grand Duke.”

Ferda furrowed his brow.

He was sick to death of the way nobles hid their true intentions while subtly trying to insert themselves into his plans.

“I dislike beating around the bush. If you trust me and I trust you, speak plainly. What is your objective? Are you asking me to take you along?”

“What riches and glory could this old man possibly seek by showing his face at the Grand Council? Ahem….”

Ferda had asked directly, and Consilius coughed with an embarrassed look on his face.

“You know a knight named Arwen, don’t you?”

“Your knight, you mean.”

He was a knight Ferda had encountered many times, first when they went to hunt the bear monster and later while escorting Ferda to the Empire.

“I want that boy to see what the Grand Council is like.”

“You want to give a mere knight some experience?”

“He is a mere knight, but he is loyal and possesses an excellent sense of chivalry. Perhaps because he has spent his entire life serving in the Far East, it’s a shame that his horizons are so narrow. He has never seen anything beyond this place. I think showing him the wider world at the Grand Council might inspire him.”

Count Consilius’s request was unusual, even among nobles.

Taking a mere knight to the Grand Council to broaden his horizons….

Ferda wondered if Arwen might perhaps be a blood relative.

“What is your relationship with Arwen, exactly?”

“Heh-heh, of course, we are complete strangers. We are merely connected by the fact that I once saw him on a battlefield—an encounter I forgot, but one he never forgot.”

Count Consilius had no family.

More precisely, they were all dead.

After his wife died, followed by his son, he gave up on remarrying.

Then he had set foot in the Far East of his own accord.

To Consilius, who had no children, Arwen must have been like a son.

“I understand. I’ll take Arwen along.”

“Thank you for indulging this old man’s pointless stubbornness. Is there anything else you would like to know?”

“What do you think about submitting an agenda item to the Grand Council?”

“An agenda item…. Of course, since you have equal authority, no one will object outright, but….”

His answer was even less favorable than when Ferda had asked about his standing there.

“It may go beyond being unfavorable and actually produce the opposite effect. You’re more likely to make enemies than allies.”

“I don’t care.”

Ferda wore a face that showed he had made up his mind.

“My apologies, but might this humble one ask what the agenda item is?”

“I intend to ask whether it is right to call Valdrova an evil dragon there.”

“Valdrova….”

Consilius reflexively brought a finger to his temple.

“You know she isn’t an evil dragon, don’t you?”

“Of course. I can’t say I know her well, but I do know that she is not fundamentally as evil as the rumors claim.”

“The reason she was designated an evil dragon is that she cannot suppress her true nature. Is that not so?”

“That is what is known… yes.”

“But what if she could suppress that seething nature?”

“If she could restrain her bloodlust and had no intention of harming humans, she could easily shed the false accusation of being an evil dragon. But it would be best not to place too much hope in that. There will be no one at the Grand Council willing to take Valdrova’s side.”

“Then we simply change that. Of course, if they refuse to budge to the bitter end even after being convinced by my explanation….”

Killing intent filled Ferda’s eyes.

“They will have to give an answer or pay a price commensurate with it, naturally.”

Consilius’s Adam’s apple bobbed heavily.

It was that suffocating sensation he had felt when he first saw Ferda.

Those were the eyes that had killed Thesalos Waltzer without batting an eye.

“The meeting hall is in Blancaros’s territory. Please, let’s avoid any situation where violence is used.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not a fool.”

Ferda rested a hand against his chin.

A month from now, perhaps.

The Grand Council would be attended by nobles of ducal rank or higher, as well as kings.

‘And dragon spawns.’

The representatives of absolute beings capable of overturning an entire nation.

He was stepping into human society and, at the same time, dragon society.

If Ferda did not feel the weight on his shoulders, it would be a lie.

Even so, he had to do it.

That was the reason Ferda existed here.

* * *

Ferda decided who would accompany him.

First, as Count Consilius had requested, there was the knight Arwen.

And Zed Swallow, who was excellent at serving as a figurehead.

‘The three of us should be enough.’

It would be fitting for nobles attending the Grand Council to bring three additional people, but Ferda had no intention of filling the numbers just for the sake of it.

Taking other lords along did not suit his temperament, and they did not dare ask him, either.

Just as he was thinking that the three of them would go, an unexpected person approached Ferda with a request.

“I’ll accompany you to the Grand Council.”

It was Luri.

Ferda said to her,

“There won’t be anything delicious to eat there.”

“Do you take me for a pig?”

“Dog-pig—.”

“If you say anything strange, I’ll scrub you down again.”

Ferda closed his mouth.

She was a woman who followed through on what she said.

“At least nothing will happen to damage your dignity, Lord Ferda. So will you permit me to go?”

“I’ll say it again: there’s nothing good that will come of your going there. I hear Silverwind regularly attends.”

Silver Dragon, Silverwind.

Luri was a Silver Dragon who had inherited Silverwind’s blood, not Valdrova’s.

The Silver Dragon spawns hated Valdrova.

Because she had killed Silverwind.

Even the regent would not be pleased, so what would they think of Luri, a Silver Dragon spawn?

To them, Luri’s existence was no different from that of a traitor.

There was no reason for her to put herself in a place where she would never hear anything pleasant.

Contrary to Ferda’s expectation that she would understand, she reacted differently.

“That’s exactly why I’m going.”

Hearing that, Ferda asked with an even more serious expression,

“Then tell me clearly what purpose you have in going. Don’t think of hiding it from me.”

Ferda’s voice turned harsh.

“……I simply want to exchange information.”

Luri mumbled something under her breath before answering.

“Until now, I’ve lived too cut off from Silverwind. We need to find out whether they still hold a grudge against you, Master.”

“Is that something we need to find out at all?”

Luri was a dragon spawn.

A Silver Dragon spawn, at that.

That meant she understood the Silver Dragons’ way of thinking better than anyone.

“They won’t feel any goodwill toward Valdrova.”

“It has been a long time. Their hatred may have subsided.”

“When a dragon holds a grudge, it doesn’t stop. You know that as well, don’t you?”

Dragons never abandoned revenge.

Even if the one who held the grudge died, the target of that revenge would be passed down through the generations.

Silverwind would never forgive Valdrova.

A dragon spawn as skilled as Luri could not possibly be unaware of that.

“That’s why I simply want to speak with them.”

Ferda looked into Luri’s eyes.

She, too, wanted to place her hopes in something called ‘if.’

“No.”

Ferda’s eyes coldly drew a line.

That was precisely why he could not allow it.

Because he knew that hope had no chance of coming true.

“The three of us are going, so stay here and guard this place obediently.”

Luri’s body trembled.

Her true feelings were hidden behind a carefully blank expression.

Yet deep resentment could be felt beneath it.

“……I understand.”

Luri turned and left without even bowing.

* * *

Ferda occasionally tried the cultivation technique again.

Entering a state of concentration and reaching awakening went perfectly.

But the Red Circle that should have supported it did not rotate.

‘What am I lacking?’

If he lacked vengeful feelings, then he needed to fill himself with them.

To that end, Ferda had envied opponents stronger than himself and struggled to fight against their status and power.

But how was he supposed to fill this feeling?

Every year, every month, every day, every hour, every minute, every second.

Could it be satisfied only by looking at her and her alone?

‘Fulfillment….’

What a ridiculous word.

Greed was not thirst.

When thirst disappeared, only an even greater thirst took its place.

If one kept filling and refilling that thirst, reason would eventually be reduced to a tool for satisfying the desire.

Ferda had pursued revenge for revenge’s sake and killed countless people.

Emotion rose wholly from Ferda’s own heart.

That was why the more urgently he tried to resolve this emotion, the more likely he was to stray down the wrong path.

‘What am I lacking?’

He closed his eyes and quietly entered his mental world.

Her face.

His greatest desire was to see again the face he had encountered only once.

But Valdrova would not show him her face.

She suffered from social anxiety.

So he erased that thought from his mind.

This would devour him one day.

“……Meditation really isn’t suited to me.”

He was a man more accustomed to filling his mind than emptying it.

Rather than sitting still and filling his head with delusions, it was better to fill it with other idle thoughts while taking a walk.

With that, Ferda rose from his seat.

It was late at night, with the moon sinking toward the west.

Blue moonlight filled the silent corridor.

Ferda stood by the window and looked up at the moon.

It was a full moon.

“Anna Rosnova.”

The name slipped out like a breath.

It was his mother’s name.

On nights when the full moon rose, he always thought of his mother.

When Ferda was young, he hated the night.

He imagined monsters lurking in the dark shadows and pouncing on him.

Of course, he still did not like the night.

Whenever Ferda found himself in danger without realizing it, it was always at night.

Even so, looking up at the moon on those hated nights brought him one of the few comforts he had.

The moon, shining brightest in the darkest place, was the only way he could recall his mother’s faint smile.

Until the moment he was devoured by his obsession with revenge,

he had found his solace there.

‘Mother….’

His beautiful mother, with golden hair and blue eyes.

Ferda filled his mind with that thought.

He filled it with the presence of his mother so that he could distance himself a little from his obsession and view himself objectively.

That was when it happened.

He began to hear footsteps approaching down the long corridor.

Clink, clink.

In another castle, he might have assumed it was a guard or knight making his rounds.

But the only person who could patrol Valdrova Castle was Luri.

And Luri wore a maid’s uniform instead of armor.

‘Then that means….’

Ferda doubted his own thought.

There was no way something so absurd could happen at a time like this.

But the approaching sound and emerging silhouette gradually convinced Ferda.

What emerged from the darkness was the armor of a dragon rider.

There was only one person who could walk around this castle wearing it.

My fiancée.

Valdrova.

She was standing right before his eyes.