You Also Wanted to Believe
Grrrrrr—.
The savage cry of a beast echoed from deep within the lair.
Anyone hearing it would have called it the resonance of pure rage, a sound so chilling it raised the hair on the neck. But Ruri, standing at the entrance of the lair, knew exactly what that sound meant.
It was Baldrova’s groan.
She was suffering.
The dragon who should have been coiled at rest now lay flattened against the floor. Sharp claws scraped uselessly across the stone as her body trembled violently.
Ruri…
Baldrova called carefully for her attendant. Ruri answered as she always did—calm, precise.
“Yes.”
Are there… any monsters coming today as well…?
Ruri shook her head.
“Unfortunately, no.”
Is that so? Then the hard times have truly begun…
Baldrova carefully raised her massive body. Her mind felt as if she were walking through fog so thick she could not see a single step ahead. Wanting, even for a moment, to turn her thoughts elsewhere, she asked,
What is… my fiancé doing?
Ruri replied,
“He is meeting every lord of the Grand Duchy. Though calling it a meeting is generous—it is closer to intimidation. He is telling the incompetent ones he will expose every crime they have committed.”
Is that so? He seems to be managing well.
A strange smile rose on Baldrova’s face, a face that until now had known only hardship. It was a smile both happy and sorrowful—one Ruri had never properly seen before Ferda arrived.
“Lord Ferda seems to have noticed.”
Baldrova’s expression hardened.
Noticed what?
“That you are harming yourself, Master. Last night you slammed your body so hard the entire castle shook once. From that, he seems to have guessed what you are doing.”
Is that so?
“So… this time, it would be best if you were careful.”
Yes. Thank you for telling me.
Baldrova turned her head and withdrew deeper into the lair.
You have worked hard. You may go now.
“…Yes.”
Ruri gave a light bow and turned away. Her steps were not light. She knew exactly what Baldrova was about to do.
She would ravage herself with power too vast to control.
Ruri.
Baldrova called her once more.
“Please speak, Master.”
No matter what happens… do not let my fiancé enter this place. That is… an order.
A voice full of dignity. Within it was a thick, heavy sorrow. Ruri could feel it—the ghost of the Third Prince still circled around her master.
“Understood.”
A loyal attendant could only obey.
Late that night inside the castle, Ruri stood motionless before the entrance that led to the lair.
Kroaaaaah!
A roar reached her ears, faint yet clear. The hands she held politely clasped before her tightened until the knuckles whitened. She forced strength into them so they would not rise of their own accord to cover her ears.
I must not block my ears.
That roar grated on Ruri. It was not the cry of a warrior charging toward the battlefield. It was the raw, broken scream of a woman who had lost her child.
Having to stand and listen to her master’s screams was agony even for a loyal attendant like her.
Even if I went in, there is nothing I could do.
Ruri had always striven to be a capable servant. She kept Baldrova Castle in perfect readiness so it could be used at any moment. She constantly studied the political currents and trends so that when her master returned she would not fall behind. Of the twenty-four hours in a day, she had never wasted a single second; she lived entirely for Baldrova.
Even so… there are things I cannot do.
That murderous aura her master poured out was beyond Ruri’s power to stop. All she could do was enter afterward to treat Baldrova once the self-harm was finished. She had no way to prevent it from happening in the first place.
Kroaaaaah—
The scream rose again.
So I must listen.
It was the punishment given to an incompetent attendant who could only stand by while her master suffered. The hands that had been clutching her skirt had, at some point, folded together. Ruri knew what that shape was.
A prayer…?
It was absurd. Dragon Spawn did not believe in gods. Their gods were dragons. The great rulers of the continent, beings of absolute status—they were living, breathing deities and idols. Ruri was no different. Silverwind, who had shared her blood, was a god to her, and so was Baldrova.
One was dead. The other was powerless.
Ruri asked herself,
Then to whom should I pray?
No answer came. She simply offered a quiet prayer toward some nameless god she did not even believe in.
Please.
Please let someone end Master’s suffering.
At that moment—
“What are you doing here?”
Ruri lifted her head from the prayer. Soft moonlight spilled through the window. In that pale light stood a figure she knew all too well.
That man.
The man who had fearlessly forced his way into her master’s life.
“Leave.”
She warned him coldly, as always.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. The place behind you is where I need to go.”
After days of silence the man was suddenly making this demand. He had sensed that Baldrova was suffering right now.
He heard that sound? Even I can barely hear it.
How had he noticed something that should have been inaudible? She set the question aside and answered again.
“You may not enter. That is Master’s command.”
“Did Her Grace order you not to let me in?”
“Yes. She said she does not wish to see a human like you.”
She added words that had never been spoken. Ruri’s own heart was shaken that badly.
“Yesterday I stepped back. Today it is your turn to step back.”
“This is not a negotiation.”
“Nor is it for me.”
Ferda instead took one step forward.
“Do not move any closer.”
Silver light like moonlight flared in Ruri’s eyes. White wind coiled around her body like blades. Ferda instinctively knew—if that wind touched him, his body would be sliced as cleanly as autumn reeds.
“I can stop it.”
Ferda said.
“Stop what, exactly?”
“Your master’s—my fiancée’s—self-harm.”
“…!”
Ruri’s eyes widened for an instant, then quickly regained their composure.
“This is not a problem that can be solved so simply. How could a mortal like you suppress a dragon’s true nature?”
“It is possible.”
“No. You merely want to see what you wish to see.”
“Yes. I look only at what I want to see and run toward it.”
He took another step.
“Isn’t that what life is?”
“I told you to stop!”
The razor wind wrapped around Ruri’s arm shot toward Ferda’s right hand. His arm jerked violently. The limb hung limp and tattered. The sight made Ruri freeze for a heartbeat.
I only meant to tap him…
Just before impact the sharpness had vanished; only a heavy blow should have landed. At most it should have left a bruise.
“Look.”
Yet Ruri pressed her advantage, certain he had now understood she was not a woman he could handle lightly.
“I can beat someone of your level unconscious with my bare hands. This is my final warning. Leave quietly.”
Ferda looked down at his dislocated right arm.
“…Is the order that important to you?”
“I am an attendant. I have a duty to obey my master’s commands.”
“I see.”
When Ferda lifted his head again, Ruri flinched. He began walking forward, one step at a time.
“Then this time, make certain you cut me down.”
Resolve burned in his blue eyes. Ruri prepared the wind blades once more.
“Do not stake your life on something worthless.”
“You speak as though you know the value of what I am about to do.”
“You are nothing but a mere human. How could the likes of you succeed where dragons who have researched for eternal ages have failed?”
By every common sense it was impossible. Mortals could not overcome immortals. They were fragile creatures who died at the slightest flick of a finger. All they could do was live in gratitude for the immortals’ mercy. How could such a being solve an immortal’s problem?
“I asked you once before, didn’t I? Whether you believe humans can suddenly gain enlightenment.”
“….”
“What did you answer then?”
She knew. But she did not want to say it. So Ferda answered for her.
“You said they survived because of flashes of insight that cannot be caught by the mere accumulation of knowledge.”
Again.
This man was throwing her own words back at her once more. Ferda, who had been far away, now stood only three paces distant. If she released the wind, his arm would be severed. There would be no time to adjust the force.
Ruri’s hands began to tremble. The sharp wind coiled around them scattered.
“Why…?”
She looked up at him. It was neither the expressionless face she always wore nor the face of contempt.
“Why… do you keep coming closer?”
It was the face of a helpless child.
“Simple.”
Ferda placed a hand on Ruri’s head.
“If you had truly intended to stop me, you would have stopped me long ago.”
Ruri’s physical ability far surpassed the frail Ferda’s by dozens of times. Knocking him unconscious or flinging him away before he ever approached would have been effortless. She could have simply used force instead of threatening him with wind magic and arguing.
“You also wanted to believe what I believe.”
In the miracle a mortal could bring.
Ferda walked past Ruri and descended the stairs. She could not even retort; she only watched him disappear. The click of his shoes faded down the passage.
This hurts like hell.
His hand still tingled from the lethal wind Ruri had fired. The shock had traveled up to his shoulder and dislocated it cleanly.
Dislocations have been common since the old days.
Resetting bones was second nature. Ferda gripped his own arm and yanked. A sharp crack sounded.
“Nngh—hff…”
He drew a deep breath and steadied himself. There was still work to do. He raised his head and looked up. A massive iron door filled his vision.
Very different from usual.
He remembered the first time he had stood before this door. Back then he had been weak, and he had not yet drunk the engagement wine. Now it was far more severe. Ferda felt as though he stood before the gates of hell. Entering here would surely mean death.
Kroaaaaaah—
A sound that made bones crawl. Just because he no longer feared dragons did not mean the murderous intent had completely vanished.
True to the Lord of Power.
Ferda opened the side door and stepped inside. The interior was much like an ordinary cave—dry, comfortable, and dark.
Ruri… why have you come here? I told you not to—
The words cut off as she realized the one who had entered was not Ruri. A heavy sound of her body shifting filled the air.
Why… are you here?
Bewilderment flowed from the voice of a sovereign.
Why… of all times, why now?
Ferda opened his mouth in answer.
“I will not say ‘It is a pleasure to meet you.’”
He looked ahead. His naked eyes could not pierce the darkness.
“My night vision is too poor to see your face.”
Get out of here at once!
A roar thick with Dragon Fear thundered out. It was not enough to shake Ferda.
“Your Majesty, I have found a way to end your suffering.”
I do not need it. Who asked you for such a thing?
Ferda took another step forward. He heard Baldrova thrash; she was retreating.
I… I do not wish to harm anyone. So please, do not come closer!
Baldrova pleaded.
“That I cannot do.”
Ferda refused.
Please…
“I do not care who dies or who is hurt.”
Do not come…
“But I cannot stand by and watch you harm yourself.”
Golden eyes flashed in the darkness.
I told you not to come!!
The bloodlust she had been suppressing erupted. With Baldrova’s savage roar, something tore through the darkness. It was her claw, hurtling toward Ferda’s small body.
Boom!
The claw smashed down on the spot where Ferda had stood.
Ah!
Baldrova came to her senses too late. The water had already been spilled.
Aaaah…
A lament escaped her. The ghost of the Third Prince whispered in her ear: You have killed your fiancé once again.
She sank into chaos. The voice of the Red Dragon Baldrova—immortal who had lived through eternal ages and soared through the skies—trembled.
I… did not mean to…
The bloodlust that had targeted her now wrapped around her own body. Self-loathing tipped over into rampage. Yet at that moment she saw something standing between her claws.
It was Ferda.
He stood calmly in place, looking down at Baldrova’s foot.
“Thank you.”
He said.
“I never expected you would reach out your hand before I even asked.”
The moment Ferda had hoped for had arrived. He placed his hand upon Baldrova’s.
There is a rational reason Ferda Valdrova can become this.
Mori had explained to Ferda.
Lord Ferda turned the Red Circle by recalling his emotions toward the Red Dragon Baldrova. Is that correct?
“Yes, that’s right.”
The Blue Circle is called cold mana because it grants a consistent effect to every magic. In contrast, the Red Circle specializes in particular elements, so its effectiveness varies meaningfully according to the nature of the magic and the concept of its creation. That is because the mana is not pure; emotion is woven into it.
He already knew that. It was why Ferda’s destructive magic was more powerful than that of other mages.
The Red Circle is usually formed from negative emotions. That is why contact with its mana is forbidden.
“Because it can cause mental contamination.”
Mori nodded.
If your mana is composed of emotion toward a dragon, then injecting that mana into the dragon should produce an effect.
Ferda had thought it absurd. Solve it with mana built from emotions even he himself did not fully understand?
“Is there no other method?”
Mori firmly shook her head. Only a single possibility had been given to him.
“I see…”
Then he had no choice but to believe.
Ferda released his mana. He poured every scrap of concentration into driving it from his fingertips beneath Baldrova’s skin.
What are you doing?
Even as she asked, Baldrova felt something rising through her body. When that reverse-flowing something reached her heart, her golden eyes flew wide open.
What… is this?
The voice that had been twisted by pain grew clearer.
The thing inside me… the thing that was boiling… is vanishing. Ferda, what in the world is this?
“I do not know either.”
Ferda quietly covered her mouth with his hand.
“But if this benefits you, then all you need do is receive my mana.”
Understood…
Baldrova focused on the change occurring within her own body through her skin. The wild pounding of her heart slowed. The bloodlust she could not control subsided. The urge to destroy, the very essence of it—everything sank beneath the name of peace.
The hypothesis was correct.
The mana generated by Ferda’s Red Circle could suppress Baldrova’s bloodlust.
There is something I can do for her.
If the bloodlust could be restrained, she would no longer need to destroy herself.
And… she will not need to suffer.
She would not have to drag out the painful past to torment herself.
To do that… I must pour in as much of my mana as possible.
Meanwhile the Red Circle in Ferda’s dantian spun violently. Mana generated several times faster than usual. Ferda released every last drop of it into Baldrova’s skin without holding back.
Ferda…!
Baldrova cried out in shock.
You’re bleeding!
Blood streamed from Ferda’s nose. Mana burnout was setting in.
Stop now. I am fine!
Normally Ferda would have stopped before this point. Not today.
Just a little more…
He wrung out the very last dregs and gave them to her without remainder. Until she entered complete stability, Ferda would not stop—even if it killed him.
“Ahh…”
At last the overload hit. His vision clouded as though thick fog had settled over it. Ferda, driven beyond the point where willpower could hold, would be unable to rise for days.
I already decided this.
So he felt no regret for this impulse and recklessness. He was about to close his eyes.
Then something moved against his palm. The information that movement conveyed was singular.
Is it… shrinking?
It was not his imagination. The rough, hard dragon hide was gradually growing soft and small. Smaller and smaller, until at last it became something close to a human hand and rested against his own.
Small.
So small it could not even fully enclose Ferda’s hand.
And soft.
Those sensations made his heart race in a way he had never felt before.
She polymorphing into human form.
This was the moment he could see her bare face.
“Why…?”
A sweet voice, thick with moisture. She spoke as though on the verge of tears.
“Why won’t you listen to me…?”
A fragile question that did not sound like Baldrova at all. Yet even if she asked, it never reached Ferda’s ears. His mind hung from the edge of a cliff. Simply holding onto his blurred vision was nearly impossible. The only thing still gripping his consciousness was a fierce longing—
No matter what…
—and a selfish desire.
I want to see.
Ferda squeezed out the final scraps of his strength. He closed his hand around hers, interlacing their fingers tightly so he would not lose her, and pulled her waist toward him.
Between the fading focus, a woman with red hair came into sharp, brilliant clarity.
“Ahh.”
Ferda let out a breath of pure wonder. That sound contained every emotion he held—a sigh of regret that his imagination had been so shallow and arrogant, and the joy of realizing this world contained beauty beyond anything he could have conceived.
“At last I can see you.”
Ferda smiled.
“It is a pleasure to meet you. My heart.”