Salt and Sand
Ferda returned to Count Consiler’s castle with Ruri.
“Thank you.”
“……”
Ruri gave no answer.
From the moment she finished crying, she had not spoken a single word.
“You may go back now.”
Neither yes nor no. Her hand answered in their place.
She could not release his clothes. The anxiety still lodged in her heart seeped through her fingers.
“Ruri.”
“……”
“Are you afraid a war will break out?”
She gave a small nod—worried, yes, but that was not the whole of it.
“There’s no need to worry. If I am right, there will be no war.”
“……”
“Return to your fiancé’s side. Go back as though nothing happened and prepare the tea party.”
“……”
“Can you do that for your master?”
Only then did Ruri let go of his collar. Without uttering a single word, she simply shot away into the sky.
Ferda straightened his clothes and opened the balcony doors.
The castle was already in chaos.
“Kill that demon bitch already!”
“Don’t just kill her—burn her to death with holy light!”
Knights with their tempers fully flared.
“Waaahhh!! I don’t wanna dieee!!”
A pink-haired demon wailing loud enough to shake the walls.
“No, just calm down and listen to me!”
And between them, Jed, sweating bullets as he tried to mediate.
“Sir Jed, stand aside!”
“Has that demon woman bewitched you?!”
“You damn parachute knight! Hand that bitch over right now!”
“Hey, these people have no filter! I’m not protecting her—I was ordered to do this, okay?!”
“Waaahhh, Sir Knight! Save meee!”
“You crazy woman! Get off my leg! For real—what a goddamn mess that man dumped on me!!”
They said every job had dignity, but taking this one had been a mistake. Jed regretted it over and over.
“Kill her already!”
“Waaahhh!!”
“What on earth is going on here?”
“This demon bitch worse than a dog hijacked the gate the Regent was supposed to come through and caused this whole—wait, huh?”
“R-Regent?”
The very Regent at the center of the uproar appeared, and the noise died in an instant.
“Are you unharmed, my lord?”
“I’m fine. A few broken ribs and fingers, but nothing serious.”
“That demon claimed you were the one who let her in. We thought she was lying…”
“Waaahhh! It’s not a lie!!”
“It isn’t a lie. I did let her in. So drop the killing intent and return to your posts.”
“Ah, yes. If you say so…”
“See?! I told you! Why are you treating me like a liar?! Being a real demon is so unfair, I swear—mmph!”
“You’ve been way too loud this whole time!”
Penelope, ever ready to pour oil on a fire, had her mouth sealed shut with a rag by Jed.
“I’m glad everyone returned safely from such a sudden operation. I’m all right, so go get some rest.”
And just like that, the uproar was settled for the moment.
Ferda turned his gaze. Two people remained in view—Jed, still sweating, and Penelope, tears and snot streaming down her face.
“You two have separate work to do.”
Early dawn at Count Consiler’s castle.
The black sky was slowly beginning to find color—the twilight just before daybreak.
Ferda had not slept. He waited.
His ribs had been broken and his fingers snapped. Healing magic had restored the damage, yet the aftermath left him more exhausted than ever. Even so, he fought off drowsiness and waited.
A short while later, Ferda sensed an invasive presence nearby.
“My darling, you’re back?”
The Great Demon Sitri crawled out of the darkness.
“I was so worried things had gone sideways, but it looks like everything worked out somehow?”
“……”
“Why are you looking at me like that? I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?”
“No. You didn’t.”
Ferda leaned back against the chair and crossed his arms.
“But it seems you were hoping I wouldn’t return safely.”
“No way. You can’t do business with a dead man, right? I waited for your return more than anyone.”
Sitri wore a seductive smile—yet it was nothing like the expression she had worn only hours earlier. This was impatience.
“Your dog is dead, Sitri.”
“My dog? Who are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb. I know Abel Silverwind was one of your dogs.”
“Oh my, that’s going too far. Anyone who dislikes my darling is automatically on the demons’ side? I hate that kind of prejudice…”
She brushed it off with practiced nonchalance, eyes curving like crescent moons.
“Even if that Abel were my dog, there’s no proof, is there?”
Sitri smiled deeply. She was right. There was no evidence. A deal with a demon always left a seal or a trace of demonic power. Abel had carried none.
“If you try to pin everything on a living demon without proof, do you really think that’ll work? If you keep denying it, they’ll try to call me as a witness. And I’ll deny everything.”
“Then I’ll be in trouble.”
“The picture will be that Regent Ferda, who trespassed and committed murder, is shifting all the blame onto demons to dodge responsibility… And…”
Sitri inched closer and whispered into his ear.
“It will only look like my darling is thrashing around to save his own skin. Even if it doesn’t look that way, the humans won’t leave you alone.”
She revealed her true colors.
“And the one who actually took a demon’s hand was you, darling. You borrowed demon magic to sneak into the territory and even rescued a demon.”
Sitri would already have secured that evidence. The moment she offered the Bending Bridge, she had layered trap upon trap so Ferda could not escape.
“My poor, adorable little Regent.”
Sitri caressed Ferda’s face.
“Isn’t it strange? Why does the warning never to deal with demons never change, no matter how many ages pass? People make the same mistake every single time, no matter how often they’re told.”
“……”
“The moment my darling used my Bending Bridge, he already crossed a river he can never recross. If you’d asked some other child a little sooner, maybe none of this would have happened, don’t you think?”
She mocked every decision he had made, declaring them all mistakes. The current was tilting. Demons always waited for that exact gap.
Sitri opened her mouth to make her proposal.
“If only…”
Ferda spoke first.
“‘If only’ is the refuge of those who regret their own actions.”
He lifted his head.
“If you have no regrets, you have no need for ‘if only.’”
The atmosphere Sitri thought she owned flipped in an instant. She felt something alien in his eyes—calm beyond anything a cornered man should possess. Not stupidity that failed to grasp the situation. It was certainty forged from resolve.
“Are you planning to start a war? Or break off your engagement with Baldrova? Either way, it won’t end well for you.”
“There will be neither war nor a broken engagement.”
Ferda spoke with complete ease.
“Abel was a demon collaborator. That fact does not change.”
“Did you even hear a word I said?”
Sitri was dumbfounded.
“I told you—there’s no evidence. Without evidence, why would they believe my darling? Are they idiots?”
The board was overwhelmingly in Sitri’s favor. She held many cards prepared for this exact moment, ready to counter whatever move he made.
Ferda was no fool either. He had prepared thoroughly to weather the aftermath of a deal with a demon.
“Yes. There is no evidence.”
But by killing Abel, every one of those cards had slipped from his hand. He had nothing left to play against Sitri’s.
“So.”
What he held instead was a collar to bind the demon.
“From now on, you will create it.”
Thud!
A deep explosion roared from inside Abel’s body. At the same moment, his form went limp. The groans of pain, the trembling—everything vanished.
“Ah…”
A gasp escaped Ruri’s lips.
She thought: this must all be a dream. In truth she was still in bed, and a demon had slipped into her chambers to show her a nightmare.
Yet she did not wake. The harder she tried to force herself awake, the closer the cold reality pressed in.
“Aaa…”
Ruri staggered toward Abel. She turned over his fallen body.
His pupils held no focus. The pulse was gone. Body temperature was already cooling.
She tried to use healing magic. But she knew it was impossible. The heart had been destroyed. No Dragon Spawn could survive a shattered heart.
Ferda had known that as well. He had never intended to leave Abel any chance at life.
The sensation of this atrocity, unfolding in a cold, dark place whipped by a snowstorm, drove itself into her mind like a spike.
A Silver Dragon’s spawn was dead. Another child of her father had died today. And what that other child had seen, she could see as well. The man responsible stood right in front of her.
“Do you…”
A voice forced its way out of her constricted throat.
“Do you understand what you have done, Lord Ferda?”
“I do.”
Ferda answered flatly.
“It is murder.”
His voice was as cold as the northern air.
“It is not just murder… Lord Ferda.”
Ruri’s hands trembled.
“A child of Silverwind is dead. You killed one who inherited that blood. Do you understand what that means?”
“I know.”
“No. You do not.”
Ruri raised her head and walked toward him.
“You killed one who carries a dragon’s blood. They will never stop seeking vengeance.”
“I know.”
“Until you die… they will never stop.”
“I know.”
“If you knew that!!”
Ruri seized Ferda by the collar.
“You never would have made this choice!”
Everything she had built—
“Because of what you did!”
Because of Ferda’s actions—
“The peace I protected for Lady Baldrova is broken!”
—had crumbled into nothing.
“You… because of you…”
Ruri lowered her head. The hand gripping his collar shook violently. Her legs trembled so hard they barely held her upright.
She thought: Can this even be fixed? Can we just pretend this never happened? What is going to happen now?
She tried to measure the events that would follow, but she could not. This lay beyond her. There was no way to resolve it smoothly.
“Haa… haa…”
Tension strangled her throat. She gasped for breath. Her vision began to gray.
“It’s your fault…”
What spilled from her mouth was pure resentment.
“Lady Baldrova… was happy enough without you.”
Venom she did not even mean poured out.
“You…! You tried to enter her life…!”
Yet Ferda did not flinch. He looked down at her with the eyes of someone watching a pitiable child.
“Ruri.”
“Don’t speak my name with that mouth! That mouth…!”
“Ruri.”
The cold voice seized her in her confusion.
“Look at me.”
Ruri lifted her head. Lost silver eyes stared up at Ferda.
“Abel had to die. This choice was unavoidable.”
“There were other choices. And I made mine.”
“The choice of abandoning yourself was the worst of all.”
“What does it matter whether I am here or not? As long as you have Lady Baldrova, isn’t that enough? Wasn’t that how you were supposed to keep the peace?”
“There was never any peace to begin with.”
“There was! Right there, clear as day! The peace I created!”
Ruri snapped back. A suspicion that she might be wrong swelled in her chest, but she refused to admit it. She did not want to make everything she had done meaningless.
“Ruri.”
Ferda asked,
“Did I destroy the peace you made?”
“Yes.”
That was fact.
“Did I put my fiancée in danger?”
“Yes.”
That too was fact.
“Then am I wrong?”
“……”
Ruri could not answer. She did not understand why she hesitated. He had clearly killed Abel. Peace had broken because of it. Baldrova was in danger. So was he wrong?
No. In a corner of her heart, she could not say yes.
“You… are wrong.”
She lacked the courage to admit the truth. She threw another tantrum instead.
“Is that so.”
Ferda removed her hands. At his gesture, Ruri’s hands followed—rising higher than the collar until they were wrapped around his neck.
Ruri’s eyes went wide.
“Then kill me right here.”
In a trembling voice she asked,
“Are you… serious?”
“That was what I asked of you.”
Ruri recalled something she had set aside in the far corner of her memory. Back when Ferda had finished selecting all his people, the last name he wrote was her own. And he had made this request:
“If I ever put my fiancée in danger or commit a wrongful act, kill me without hesitation.”
Ruri had not believed him, of course. No living creature wished for death—not humans, not Dragon Spawn, not even dragons.
“If I die, the peace you protected will return.”
Ferda was different. There was no wavering in his eyes—from the moment he killed Abel until now. The resolve within him had never once faltered.
Ruri finally voiced the question she had never understood, the one she had kept locked in her heart.
“Lord Ferda… do you not regret what you did?”
“I do not.”
Ferda had thought it through countless times—before acting, while acting, and even in this very moment. The conclusion was always the same.
“Even if time rewound a thousand times, I would still save you.”
“Why?”
Unlike her own trembling pupils, his shone clear and bright. It was a light Ruri did not possess.
“Because I do not doubt for a second that this is for my fiancée, Baldrova.”
That light brushed against Ruri’s cheek.
“She needs you more than she needs me.”
The moment she heard those words, everything that made Ruri who she was collapsed.
“Why… why is that?”
The hands around Ferda’s neck loosened and slid down his body.
“Why… when I have lived longer… when I have served Lady Baldrova longer…”
Moisture filled her voice.
“Why does a human like you…”
Ruri hated humans. Human greed had always only ever hurt Baldrova. Ferda was different from those humans. And yet—she hated Ferda more than any of them.
Why? He acted for Baldrova. He actually possessed the power to protect her. And still she hated him to death.
“Why can’t I… be like you…”
Ruri’s body pitched forward. She did not want to lean against the man she despised. But letting him see her cry was even worse.
“Kh-hk, hhic…”
Ruri desperately tried to swallow her sobs. Knowing she could not, she buried her face in his clothes and forced the sounds down.
While she wept without restraint, she caught a faint scent. The scent of a man who, long ago, had taken in a lone girl who survived a village burned to ash by a great fire.
It smelled like that man.