Even So
“As the proxy of the Far East, as the Regent of the Grand Duchy of Baldrova, and as Baldrova’s betrothed, I hereby declare from this place—”
What Ferda had to do was simplicity itself.
He needed only to help her unfurl those steadfast wings.
He lifted his chin with quiet pride and drove every syllable into their ears, loud and deliberate.
“I shall purify and reclaim this land that was defiled by the Father of Evil, the Source of Chaos, the Malevolent Dragon Godwin.”
It was a declaration of conquest over the Land of Evil.
At Ferda’s outrageous pronouncement the entire Grand Council erupted in murmurs.
“Conquer the Land of Evil?”
“The land that even the immortal Aspects themselves could never take…?”
Shock and outright rejection filled every voice. It could hardly be otherwise. Ever since the Land of Evil had been born after the Dragon-Demon War, countless people had dreamed of conquering it. Every single one who set foot there with that dream had failed. For a full century the land had been abandoned after endless attempts and endless despair—yet now a young regent was boldly challenging it.
“What the Great Aspect of Power and Fire, Baldrova, desires is the eradication of the monsters that appear upon this continent. The primary objective—and the final goal—of that eradication is the conquest of the Land of Evil.”
“As She wishes peace for this continent, I too shall lend my strength and act so that all may be convinced the title of ‘Evil Dragon’ is nothing but a false name.”
That single ambitious sentence shook the Grand Council to its core.
Ferda was a ducal proxy attending the Council for the very first time today. Eighteen years old, young and inexperienced—more than enough for people to call him insolent. Experience and age were factors that weighed heavily everywhere. But not for Ferda. On the surface they believed he was merely riding Baldrova’s prestige. Deeper in their unconscious minds, however, something else stirred: a buried hope that this broad-shouldered man might actually succeed.
“This agenda…”
Blancaros’s voice rolled quietly through the chamber. At once every other voice died. Even the Dragon Spawn were startled to hear him speak.
“Let us leave the matter here, Regent.”
Blancaros himself had opened his mouth to request it of Ferda. Ferda had no choice but to accept. The weight of words spoken directly by the one who normally advanced everything through proxies was extraordinary.
“I thank you for granting me this place.”
For now, Ferda decided he was satisfied. With that, his debut was finished. He returned to his seat, and Blancaros continued the proceedings.
“We move on to the next item.”
Afterward only trivial matters began to be discussed—trivial, at least, to Ferda, who paid them no attention.
Erika Iorgas.
Her name kept echoing inside his skull. The old habit of the Mage of Vengeance was unconsciously carving that name deep into his bones.
Useless.
Ferda tried to ignore the long-standing habit.
Then—
—Regent Ferda, can you hear me?
Speak of the tiger and it appears, as the saying went. Erika’s voice rang in his ear. She was using telepathic magic.
—I have heard Your Grace’s opinion well.
At her voice Ferda carefully drew mana into his fingertips, condensed it until it posed no threat, and lightly touched it to his temple.
—I, Erika Iorgas, receive Your Grace’s opinion positively, and furthermore—
Snap—
The resonance inside his head cut off as though a line had been severed. Ferda had simply broken the telepathic link she had established. At the sudden disconnection Erika’s body gave a small twitch. She turned her head just enough to cast him a sidelong glance—an expression that clearly asked what on earth he thought he was doing.
Ferda met her gaze steadily and answered.
Get lost.
She fired another telepathic thread.
—Just a moment, Regent Ferda. I understand you are in an emotional state. Please do not block me and listen to what I have to—
Each time, Ferda simply cut her off again.
—No, listen to me—
Whenever a telepathic message arrived he blocked it once more. For the remaining thirty minutes of the long session they waged a silent war of messages and blocks until the Council finally adjourned.
“What I wish to speak of from this place today concerns the one who shall become my companion—Baldrova.”
Among the listeners those of weaker courage wore expressions as though their breath might leave them entirely. Seeing those faces only strengthened his resolve.
“At the far eastern edge of the continent, land that once allowed every living thing to roam freely was laid waste by the Black Dragon Godwin, becoming a land of death where monsters are endlessly spawned.”
With that newfound confidence Ferda poured power into every word.
“The Great Red Dragon Baldrova has, for one hundred and fifty years, fought those eastern monsters without any recompense, serving this continent. Yet what is the epithet that has been hung upon my companion?”
The name that once made all tremble in terror. The name that, once the terror faded, was despised. The name that was mocked.
“Tyrant. Evil Dragon. The monsters always pour forth from that distant Land of Evil. They strip Her scales and tear Her flesh. Those claws of Hers are turned toward your homes and your families. Despite such devotion She asked for nothing. Even in tearful agony She kept silence and fought on steadfastly. We are the ones who have received Her grace. Even beasts repay a kindness received. Therefore I open my mouth in this place to clear Her name of that stain.”
Ferda’s gaze swept the chamber. Many had gathered, yet their faces fell into fixed types: those who cared nothing, those who cared, and those already calculating how to use the situation. Still, every eye was fixed on one place—the Dragon Spawn who occupied the front seats, the servants of the Aspects, the masters of mystery and immortality.
“Regent Ferda Valdrova, was it?”
Someone among them spoke. Ferda thought for an instant it might be the Silver Dragon Spawn rising in protest. Instead the voice that answered was that of a refined woman—blue hair, horns that were not sharp.
Erika Iorgas, was it?
She was the leader of the Iorgas Spawn. Bright blue hair and eyes, a keen jawline, a striking presence so beautiful one could easily believe she was an imperial princess rather than a Spawn leader. She rose from her seat and offered a graceful bow.
“It is an honor to meet you, Regent Ferda. I am Erika Iorgas, representative of Iorgas and Master of the Blue Eye Tower.”
“A pleasure to meet you.”
“I dislike beginning a first meeting with harsh words, yet since the motion is what it is, I shall not circle around it either.”
Erika’s eyes locked onto Ferda. Sharp pupils that did not match the clear sky-blue of her irises fixed upon him.
“To put it bluntly, the conclusion regarding that agenda is a simple ‘no.’ The motion is rejected.”
The conviction sunk deep in those eyes was aimed straight at Ferda. It was not good. Those eyes were already drawing every person in the Grand Council to her side.
“One hundred and fifty years ago, when the Dragon-Demon War broke out, Baldrova pierced Godwin’s heart after twelve years of bitter struggle and became a war hero.”
Her tone was soft and rational. Ferda did not take the words at face value.
“But that was not the end. Baldrova could not control Her own power and ran amok. Many people, many races, many lives perished. Do you know how many?”
Erika asked Ferda and immediately added,
“As the one who is to become Baldrova’s consort, and as the one who has put forth this motion, I trust you have conducted thorough investigation.”
It was a point he had to answer. To claim ignorance would only trap himself. Ferda spoke the truth.
“Half of all the damage that occurred during the Dragon-Demon War started by Godwin… that is the number.”
In half a day half the casualties of twelve years had died. It was the greatest catastrophe recorded in every history book.
“Yes. Half. And that half was the result of twelve years of suffering compressed into half a day. And furthermore…”
Erika turned her head slightly, drawing every gaze toward one man—Goz Silverwind.
“Even Silverwind, the leader of the Silver Dragons, perished because of it.”
Goz Silverwind said nothing. Or rather, he could not. He was a hot-blooded man who preferred fists to words. If he opened his mouth now, no one could guess what curses he might unleash, so he kept his lips tightly sealed.
Yet the one who had raised the motion, Ferda, showed not the slightest sign of being cowed. Had he been the type to be cowed by this much, he would never have spoken in the first place.
“The circumstances differ from Godwin’s. At that time it was total war—every force of Serdes had surrounded Godwin, and countless soldiers and beasts had gathered. If one rampages in the midst of that, becoming easy prey is inevitable.”
“What matters is that in that moment She did rampage and create sacrifice. However one looks at it, She killed in half a day half the number the Evil Dragon Godwin himself had slain.”
“She slew Godwin, who had tormented the Serdes Continent for twelve years.”
“And She murdered Lord Silverwind as well. That brave warrior who cherished others more than anyone, that supreme leader.”
In a single day Baldrova had driven both the most terrible Evil Dragon and the greatest Guardian Dragon to their deaths. With those two events occurring together, Her standing could only have been left hanging in the air. Yet Ferda possessed evidence.
“That rampage was neither Baldrova’s will nor something born of the essential nature of the Aspect of Power.”
“If not of essence, then what was it?”
“It was simply a calamity caused by contamination from the Chaos that nested within the Evil Dragon Godwin’s heart.”
Ferda had spoken at length with Mori precisely to prepare this argument.
“Chaos dwelled in Godwin’s heart. The one who came into closest contact with that Chaos was none other than Baldrova. Having directly destroyed the source nested in the heart, She would inevitably have been affected, for better or worse.”
Erika’s gaze sharpened.
“It is true that Baldrova was the closest to Godwin. Yet you are under one misconception.”
Once more she seized control of the atmosphere.
“Baldrova was not the only one who fought in that place. Everyone fought with desperate courage. Far more people closed the distance on Godwin and took wounds.”
Ferda already knew. Cross-checking the records had shown that Baldrova had suffered relatively lighter injuries.
“If what the Regent says is correct, then every dragon present should have been affected—Lord Iorgas, who was gravely wounded, as well. Yet that one remains perfectly sound.”
Erika turned her eyes to the old man seated beside her.
“Is Lord Odograsado in good health?”
The old man gave a gentle laugh and answered,
“Lord Odograsado is one who wears the radiant golden light of Faith. How could She fall for Godwin’s petty tricks?”
At the firm denial Erika lifted her chin.
“You see? By your words, many in the Dragon-Demon War should have been invaded and contaminated.”
“……”
“You claim the Chaos seeped in because She destroyed the heart? That may well be so. Yet look now. Unlike the others who overcame their wounds and rose again, what is Baldrova doing?”
Emotion entered Erika’s voice.
“She does not wish to protect anything. She is no different from a beast that has tasted blood. It is as though the destructive nature She awakened can never be reversed. The monsters flowing from the Land of Evil are merely the outlet that can suppress that nature with the least trouble. Therefore, while remaining near the Land of Evil, She has never possessed the will to eliminate the Land of Evil itself—does that not follow?”
Ferda began to see Erika differently. She was a wall. Not just any wall—the wall of the North, the vast barrier raised to hold back the frost giants and demons that came from beyond the frozen wastes. They called it the Frost Wall. Ferda had seen that wall once. Beyond it there existed neither mercy nor forbearance. Erika’s argument was exactly like that wall: not a single crack of room, offering only zero tolerance and mercilessness to anything that approached.
Why?
Ferda wondered.
Why is she so desperate to kill Her?
He could not understand the frantic effort to isolate Baldrova so thoroughly. Had it been Goz Silverwind’s rage, he would have understood at once. Yet someone with no connection at all—someone from the Iorgas side—was struggling as though she would not leave even a scrap of reconsideration possible.
Ferda read the room. His eyes casually swept the entire Grand Council. Nobles who already sided with her intent. Alexander, who only moments earlier had acted as though he were Ferda’s ally, now held his breath and watched the wind. No doubt he was already calculating whether some profit might still be scraped from this.
Detestable.
In Ferda’s eyes everything here was frantic to kill Her, to flay Her and devour Her.
I expected this.
He might not know what politics truly was, but he knew what humans were. The moment someone draws attention and is attacked, everyone unites to tear them down. Had the name Baldrova not stood behind Ferda, they would already have been circling one by one to pick him apart. Ferda had always kept that firmly in mind.
And yet…
His insides boiled. The more they boiled, the colder and more twisted his face became. From the beginning he had discarded the notion that he could persuade them. Even so, it was not easy. To face this situation squarely and still have to remain still—
Ferda felt the upheaval rising from his heart. The rage he had discarded and buried was sneering at him. Therefore he asked,
Baldrova. My heart…
Must you, even after accepting every slander and every humiliation, still steadfastly love and protect the things you wish to love?
Then the turbulent heart grew astonishingly calm. The sneering of rage ceased. Fragile as though it might snap, soft as a sprout pushing through the damp earth of dawn, yet melting his frozen heart and carved deep into his chest—that feeling answered Ferda’s question.
Even so,
“In that case,”
I love them all.
“I shall prove it.”
At Ferda’s words Erika asked,
“Prove it? Prove what, exactly?”
“That the reason She made the Far East Her base is not some mere outhouse for releasing Her destructive instincts.”
Standing upon the platform, Ferda cried out more clearly than he ever had before.