My Slain Dragon Bride

Chapter 240. The Vessel of the Monarch

Ferda was unaware of what was happening in reality.

All he could do was gaze up at the sky while sinking into something resembling a deep reservoir.

He could not breathe, and an oppressive force squeezing in from every direction held Ferda down in the depths.

"Somehow, I have to do something...."

But how?

This was his consciousness.

He wanted to escape, but he had no strength with which to struggle.

All he could do was reach out toward a light he could never grasp.

Helplessness enveloped Ferda.

Valdrova.

The farther she drifted away, the closer her face seemed to become.

Ferda asked himself:

Why had he fallen in love with her?

At first, it had been a sense of kinship.

She was what he had longed for when he was young.

That curiosity had drawn him toward her.

And so he came to know Valdrova in earnest.

She was foolish.

Foolish, but warm.

He had slowly been enveloped by that warmth.

Perhaps it was simply as people said—there was no right answer when it came to love.

—She wanted to become a person like a bonfire.

A voice suddenly echoed.

The scenery, which had resembled the bottom of a reservoir, transformed into a dim and gloomy place.

A man was standing there.

—But before the Primordial Chaos, such a bonfire was no different from a candle before the wind. She had to burn herself away. Everyone witnessed those tears.

It was a deep voice Ferda had never heard before.

The man continued speaking as though delivering a monologue to someone somewhere.

—We burdened her with a duty.

—But she is not carrying out that duty. Because she loves everything. Because she loves everything, she leaves them alone.

There was a silence, as though he were contemplating something.

Then he spoke again.

—I will not allow that.

—Life and death are the natural order, and it is her role to lead them along that order.

At that moment, the darkness vanished and flames erupted.

It was a village.

At a glance, it was large enough to resemble Hestia Village.

The crackling sound of burning flames mingled with cruel screams.

Ferda sensed someone’s presence and turned his head.

Valdrova was there.

She was a dragon known as the Aspect of Fire and Strength, yet now she was a woman utterly powerless.

Her hollow eyes shed tears of blood.

Her lips moved countless times, forming words Ferda could not hear.

Why?

Ferda could not understand what was happening.

But his body moved against his will, and so did his lips.

"Come now, look, Valdrova."

He spoke in an extraordinarily gentle voice.

"This is what it looks like when the things you wanted to protect disappear."

His consciousness was swept away.

Once again, Ferda was dragged into the abyssal reservoir.

He could not breathe.

His chest felt even more constricted.

That... isn’t me.

That wasn’t Ferda.

He would never hurt her.

That was precisely why he was afraid.

If I remain trapped in this abyss like this, will I become someone like that?

Will I hurt her again?

No.

If that’s what is going to happen, then just kill me.

He screamed a silent cry toward the unreachable light.

He wasn’t asking for salvation.

He was only asking for that small measure of mercy.

—Lord Regent Ferda?

Someone’s voice.

It was unfamiliar, yet it was undoubtedly a voice he had heard once before.

—Can you hear me?

He wanted to answer, but he couldn’t.

He could only pray that she wouldn’t pass him by like this.

—It seems your consciousness has gone beyond that point. But you should still be able to hear my voice, so I don’t think it’s too late yet.

She seemed to understand Ferda’s condition.

—From now on, I’ll be working on bringing Lord Regent Ferda out of his consciousness. You may want to thank me, but that’s as far as my role goes. We’re being pursued, after all.

Anyone would have been fine.

In a situation where he didn’t even know what was happening, if he could simply regain his sanity, he would have grabbed even a rotten lifeline.

—I have rambled on long enough. Then, let’s begin.

At that moment, Ferda felt something descending from the light.

Its form was unclear.

If he thought it was a rope, it looked like a rope. If he thought it was a long hand, it looked like a hand.

It felt as though he could interpret it however he wished.

Ferda cautiously grasped that hand.

The moment he did, the long hand firmly closed around his own and lifted him up.

Ferda knew this sensation.

The place that had resembled an abyssal reservoir instantly exploded into light, and the surroundings transformed.

This was Valdrova Castle.

A place filled with vitality because the Festival of the Beginning of Spring was being held.

And within it, Ferda had made one mistake.

A tangled step caused by his panic.

At that moment, which could have led to utter embarrassment, there had been a sensation of someone skillfully guiding him.

He remembered it.

"You are...."

But the freckled face was different from the one he remembered.

She had the face of an extraordinarily innocent woman.

It was the sort of ordinary face one might see once among every ten women in a village.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Angrem. I am Sierra’s Saintess, also called the Saintess of Mercy. But I am more commonly known as Sierra’s Chain."

"Chain?"

"If you’re trying to restrain a wolf, you need a sturdy collar, don’t you?"

As though she had finished her role, she released her clasped hands and let go of Ferda.

"We’ll meet again soon. When that time comes, let’s introduce ourselves properly."

When Ferda was left alone in the ballroom, he finally became aware of reality.

"Ugh...!"

He had awakened from a horrific dream only to return to a reality that was every bit as dreadful.

Ferda was kneeling.

His mind was so chaotic that countless words were spinning around inside his head.

Sierra’s Chain.

The burning village.

Valdrova shedding tears of blood.

His head hurt.

His mind had returned to his body, and now there was no time to think about anything.

The most important thing first....

Ferda instinctively began sorting through his priorities.

What was it?

He rolled his eyes around, searching for anything that seemed relevant.

Then he spotted it.

A black book.

Yes. That’s it.

Gamigin’s Legion.

The object that had been called Gamigin’s Utopia, the thing that had ultimately succeeded in the human world.

I have to destroy it.

Ferda tried to draw up his mana.

But there was nothing left.

Both his Dark Circle and Red Circle had been squeezed dry to their limits.

He gathered what little remained as though trying to wring even the last drop of moisture from dried jerky.

Yet he still couldn’t reach it.

Ferda carefully tried to rise.

His legs trembled violently, and in the end, he decided simply to crawl.

His body was telling him that it needed rest.

Ferda desperately tried to persuade that body otherwise.

At the very least, he had to burn that book.

Only after destroying that book could he close his eyes.

Driven by that single determination, Ferda slowly crawled forward.

Just as he was about to reach out toward it—

The book floated into the air.

Ferda thought it might be magic, but someone had simply picked up the book.

Ferda forced his head up to see who it was.

The first thing he saw was a massive boot.

Zed, Arwen, or perhaps... Luri, who had lost her shoes somewhere and happened to be wearing some enormous boots someone had discarded.

He hoped it would be one of them.

But reality cruelly tore that hope apart.

"So this must be the object."

Eugene Hudret.

The man who had been carefully destroying every source of power had finally arrived after everything had been settled.

This is the worst possible outcome.

Of all people, it had to fall into that bastard’s hands....

Ferda looked up at him.

"It seems quite the fierce battle took place here. I heard from the mage outside that the power had disappeared, but the castle itself is beginning to collapse as well."

"...."

"Well, it doesn’t seem like the source of that power is here, either. That must be because that fellow Alberdo and your attendant are exceptionally powerful. We’d better get out of here quickly. What will you do?"

He asked with a smile.

There was something unsettling about the question, even though the answer seemed obvious.

Ferda barely managed to open his mouth.

"That book...."

"Hm?"

"That book... give it to me."

Ferda was no less determined.

King Hudret glanced at the black book and asked,

"Do you desire this object? Well, you are a mage, after all. Your pursuit of power must be more extraordinary than anyone else’s."

"It must... be destroyed."

King Hudret silently looked down at Ferda while holding the book.

His face showed no expression.

That made him impossible to read.

How was this man reacting to the temptation that the other kings had experienced—and that Ferda himself had experienced?

Ferda wanted to believe that King Hudret had not been tempted.

With Ferda’s current physical condition, there was no way he could defeat Hudret.

"Its contents will show you the desires you harbor."

"Desires?"

"The kings were devoured by those desires. And... they killed one another."

"Hmm... so that’s what happened?"

King Hudret touched his chin.

His reaction suggested that he found it suspicious, but nevertheless believed it was not entirely without merit.

"It makes you believe that things which should remain nothing more than fantasies—and must remain fantasies—can actually be realized. So please... you must destroy it."

"So you’re saying that if I look into this, I’ll be consumed by the book?"

"That’s right."

"Hmm...."

Another subtle reaction.

If Ferda’s body were in proper condition, he would have attacked Hudret immediately.

But now he had become so physically frail that he couldn’t even defeat a child.

After staring down at Ferda for quite some time, King Hudret gave a faint chuckle.

"I’ll ask you one question."

King Hudret raised his index finger.

"What do you think of the Monarch?"

"The Monarch...?"

"My father wanted to become the Monarch. He tried to instill that dream in his children, and I was the one who received it."

"...."

"But the greater the dream, the weaker the bond of family became. Rather than helping one another, we did nothing but repeatedly attempt assassinations and frame each other. I regretted it. I was disappointed."

"...."

"And as a result, I naturally developed a certain kind of eye."

He pointed toward his own eyes.

"They called it Insight, I believe? I call it the Monarch’s Eye. It allows me to roughly understand what sort of thoughts are harbored by those who aspire to things beyond their station."

His eyes were completely ordinary brown eyes.

That Insight was certainly not some magical construct.

"So it was quite convenient for filtering out those who I thought were simply wasting their time. But it isn’t omnipotent."

He crouched down and placed a finger against Ferda’s forehead.

"I learned that after meeting you. You possessed the greatest ambition of anyone I’ve ever seen. And yet, you were different from the other kings. I found that very interesting."

His smile disappeared.

He continued in a much more serious voice.

"Ferda Valdrova. The Tyrant, the man who became Valdrova’s husband. So I’ll ask you one more time. What do you think of the Monarch?"

Ferda answered his question.

"Even if one becomes the Monarch, he is still nothing more than a human who will eventually die."

They say that the higher one climbs, the stronger the wind becomes.

"Then why stand at such a lofty position and continue trying to climb even higher?"

The answer was simple.

"Because my fiancée is there."

And the words that followed were not Ferda’s.

"Because she doesn’t know how to come down from that position, and she’s struggling there."

He didn’t understand why he had said such a thing.

Perhaps his mind was so hazy that he had simply muttered nonsense.

Hearing those words, Hudret grinned.

"Let us confirm that, then."

Hudret finally opened the book.

At that moment, his eyes widened.

Like an explorer who had discovered a treasure.

Like a farmer feeling the refreshing rain that finally came after a long drought.

"Indeed... these are interesting things."

He clearly saw it.

The sight of himself becoming the ruler of the continent.

The sight of everyone bowing beneath him.

The Utopia that every person who aspired to become a king dreamed of.

"Though it’s rather insignificant."

Hudret quickly lost interest.

Without the slightest hesitation, he burned the black book with his own hand.

Ferda couldn’t hide his astonishment as he watched.

"Why are you looking at me like that? It makes me quite uncomfortable, as though you underestimate me."

"How...?"

"I’m not blind. If my eyes are open to reality, why would I be shaken by that piece of trash?"

He nodded toward the place where the kings’ corpses lay.

"The results of those who tried to pursue the ideal this thing showed them are lying scattered right there before us, aren’t they?"

Every word was undeniably true.

He watched until the book had burned completely, then crushed the ashes beneath his foot.

"Those who walk the path of the Monarch must possess an unshakable conviction. With determination, and without haste."

The book disappeared without a trace.

His eyes turned toward Ferda.

"So, in turn, I want to ask you. How did you resist even after seeing this book?"

Ferda recalled the illusion it had shown him.

But something shone even more vividly than that illusion.

Red.

"Valdrova."

His foolishly stubborn woman came to mind.

The woman who could never be replaced by dreams or fantasies remained in reality.

"So that’s why."

King Hudret nodded as though he finally understood.

"I wondered why I had the feeling that I liked you so much, but now I understand. It was because of that."

"...."

"You don’t have the dream of becoming the Monarch. If you aren’t someone who intends to become the Monarch, why would you need to fight for it?"

King Hudret sheathed his sword, grabbed Ferda by the arm, and pulled him up before slinging him around his body.

"Rest. I’ll personally deliver your body to your attendant."

It was an extraordinarily humiliating position, but Ferda had no strength left to protest.

As Hudret had said, he needed to rest now.

The Heinkel Kingdom began to collapse around its fortress.

The areas that had lost their mana crumbled as though they had been built from sand, while the cheers of soldiers who knew nothing of what had happened echoed throughout the area like the cries of victory.

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