My Slain Dragon Bride

Chapter 244. Function Test

Olivia was shaken for only a moment before she smiled faintly and answered.

"I threw it away."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"I see."

Ferda said no more.

The corners of Olivia’s lips were trembling.

***

Ureas was dead.

When Olivia heard those words, she thought:

Who will handle politics for me now?

Who will take the abuse, run wild whenever he pleases, and cut off the heads of those I find unpleasant?

If he hadn’t been so needlessly greedy, I might have let him play emperor for a few more days.

She was deeply saddened by the disappearance of a useful tool.

That was all.

There was no affection for her blood relative.

That was what she truly felt, but Olivia desperately played the role of a woman devastated by the loss of her older brother.

As though she could barely hear anything around her.

—Regent Ferda has escaped from the castle!

Upon hearing those words, Olivia instinctively raised her head.

Like a ray of light breaking through a cloudy sky, the news that he had returned alive filled her with overwhelming joy.

—Is the Regent safe?

—Not completely. Apparently, he returned to the camp with his right hand severed...

His right hand?

—His right hand was severed? Is that information reliable?

—Yes. When the Dragon Spawn maid flew away carrying Regent Ferda, an archer reportedly saw it with his own eyes.

His right hand was severed?

His right hand?

Who did that?

What could they possibly have done to him to make that happen?

That hand... What kind of hand was it, anyway...?

"Ah..."

Tears flowed from Olivia’s eyes.

Her tears, which had always been cold, were exceptionally hot this time.

She was surprised that she could shed such tears herself, and at the same time, she was swallowed by the emotions behind them.

"AAAAAH!!"

Olivia began to wail at the top of her lungs.

—P-Princess!?

It was the moment her dignity completely collapsed, yet everyone solemnly lowered their heads along with her.

Anyone watching would have thought it was simply the reaction of a younger sister who had lost her own brother.

Only Olivia herself knew the true origin of those tears.

After sobbing for a long while, Olivia composed herself and went to find Ferda’s tent.

Ferda’s hand was different from what she had heard.

It seemed his hand had been restored thanks to Orosagrado’s scales.

Olivia, who did not believe in miracles, was grateful for that miracle at this very moment.

She repeatedly thanked it inwardly for returning him to her with his body intact.

—Olivia.

Ferda called her by her name.

Not Princess, but Olivia.

Her happiness lasted only for a moment.

Something was strange about Ferda’s eyes.

His eyes had always been cold and stern.

But he had never looked at her with such piercing intensity before.

—What happened to the handkerchief I gave you?

She was flustered.

It was such an insignificant object, and Ferda had never seemed to care about it either.

She had never thought of an excuse for it, so Olivia could not answer immediately.

’I threw it away.’

That was what she answered.

She felt as though she absolutely should not tell him that she had kept it because she intended to return it.

She did not want to hear him say, ’Then give it back to me.’

Ferda did not press her any further.

As though it meant nothing.

Perhaps that was why?

When Olivia left the tent, her mind seemed to turn completely white.

She returned to her own tent.

Once she felt completely alone, Olivia slipped her hand into the pocket beneath her skirt and took something out.

An object she kept close to her body, almost as closely as Alte’s necklace.

The source of the faith within her heart.

At the same time, it was a black handkerchief that seemed completely incompatible with her.

She had kept it.

Olivia tightly clasped the handkerchief in her hands and thought.

Why did Ferda ask about it?

Was this handkerchief actually important?

No.

That couldn’t be.

It was only a handkerchief.

Ferda was not the kind of person to obsess over such trivial things.

There must be a reason he suspects something.

She dug deeper.

A reason why Ferda had suddenly asked about the whereabouts of the handkerchief.

Their conversation.

The events that had happened before it.

No matter how far she expanded her thoughts or how deeply she dug, there was only one factor that stood out.

Ureas.

Ferda had said that Ureas had ceased to be human and had gone on a rampage.

No way...

One possibility flashed through her mind.

If Ureas had known about this handkerchief...

Everything connects.

Although the links seemed insufficient, the more she recalled the things she had casually dismissed, the more perfectly everything fell into place.

The fact that Ferda knew about Olivia’s handkerchief.

The fact that Ureas had tried to kill Ferda.

And at the same time, she was forced to confront a truth she had failed to notice—or had deliberately pretended not to know.

"Hah."

A hollow laugh escaped her lips.

"Haha..."

Her face twisted unnaturally.

Hatred and rage intertwined with emptiness, creating an expression that was impossible to describe.

Olivia stared at her own reflection in the mirror.

Even with such a distorted expression, Olivia was incredibly beautiful.

Eyelashes curved like the eaves of a roof.

Skin as white as flawless jade.

Small, red lips as though they held a cherry.

A slender face.

The Rose of the Empire.

A jewel.

If there were another person like this...

I would have been jealous of her.

And I would have gladly loved her.

If even I could feel that way looking at myself, why would my family be any different?

"You disgusting bastard..."

What escaped her mouth was a cold, contemptuous insult.

Alexander was a beast.

Ureas was a beast as well.

There isn’t Golden Blood flowing through this body.

There is only the blood of beasts.

Olivia wondered.

Could I shed even a single tear at that beast’s funeral?

***

Ferda went outside and looked at the Heinkel Kingdom spread out below the ridge.

A kingdom that had once been dead.

But now it had become nothing more than a pile of rubble, and countless soldiers had been deployed to clear away the stones.

Autumn would arrive soon.

Before it came, the sun was blazing down as though desperately struggling against the approaching season.

I could use magic to summon clouds and block out the sun, but...

Until only a few days ago, this place had been the land of Black Magic and the Demon Race.

All Black Magic weakened beneath sunlight, and even if Undead emerged during the cleanup, they could be dealt with quickly.

Therefore, collapsing from dehydration was actually the safer option.

"Oh? Isn’t that Regent Ferda?"

It was Zed’s voice.

Come to think of it, Zed’s tent was in the most visible location.

Ferda turned his head and looked at Zed.

His entire body was tightly wrapped in bandages.

Yet in that condition, he casually walked over and stood to Ferda’s right.

"I heard your right hand was restored."

"Yes."

"So you avoided becoming one-armed. Losing a hand would be quite troublesome."

"It certainly seems that way."

Although Zed appeared completely unfazed, Ferda knew.

This man had gone somewhere even worse than he had.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. I’m not too bad."

"I already heard otherwise. Apparently, you were hovering between life and death."

Several priests had apparently attended to him, and they had poured several top-grade healing potions into him.

They had repeatedly said that there was no hope and that they should give up.

Yet looking at him now, it was hard to believe.

A man who had supposedly been hovering between life and death was casually standing there scratching his head.

"Heh heh. I suppose one shouldn’t attempt things beyond one’s station. I ended up taking quite an embarrassing fall."

"I heard that from Sir Arwen. He said that when it collapsed, you fell after following Arwen."

"Well, that’s what happened. The person who was supposed to protect the Regent fell into a trap in such an embarrassing fashion and..."

"Sir Arwen said the same thing."

Zed’s face showed traces of regret and guilt.

Ferda stared directly at him.

"But I don’t think that’s what happened."

"What?"

"My conclusion is that you deliberately fell in there."

Arwen had said this:

—A human body cannot remain consistent. When one’s vitality declines, the body naturally becomes sluggish, but Zed showed no such signs. So... I didn’t notice anything at all until the moment I heard that the Regent had escaped.

Zed, who had hovered between life and death.

Arwen, who had remained relatively unharmed.

Ferda asked him again.

"Can you tell me the truth in your own words?"

"...."

Zed scratched his head before answering.

"Did I ever tell you that I’m the son of the leader of the Red-Eyed Clan?"

"I believe I’ve heard that."

"We of the Red-Eyed Clan run a traveling circus and live in the underworld. My father was a genius assassin who appeared once every two hundred years, as well as the leader of the clan. He could see through people’s psychology, and his skills were exceptional."

Zed grinned.

"Do you know what it’s like to grow up under a genius for a father?"

"I heard it was difficult."

"Yes. No matter how talented you are, if you can’t surpass your father, you’ll remain nothing more than an ordinary man."

Why was he bringing this up?

Surely he wasn’t about to talk about his conflict with his father.

"An enemy appeared who surpassed even that father of mine. That man had no reason to hold a grudge against us, yet he defeated my father in just three moves and slaughtered the entire clan."

"....."

"I was a guardian tasked with protecting the shaman. My younger sister was the shaman. My duty was to protect that girl until the very end. I knew I couldn’t defeat him, so I was prepared to at least die together with him. But I failed."

"You ran away?"

"I was struck from behind. By my own sister."

"How?"

"That little monster drugged me with a tranquilizer meant for wild beasts. I couldn’t resist at all."

He swallowed the bitterness in his mouth and continued.

"With that tiny body of hers, she put me inside a jar. Do you know what she said to me then?"

"...."

"’Live.’ That’s what she said. And so I was the only one who survived."

The Red-Eyed Clan had disappeared like that, he had heard.

"There was definitely no other survivor. Everyone’s corpses were left behind. But there was exactly one person I couldn’t find."

"Your younger sister?"

"Yes."

"So you’ve believed all this time that your younger sister was still alive."

"She is alive. I’m certain."

It wasn’t speculation.

It was conviction.

Even Garnet, the leader of the Black Bandana, had said there was little hope, but Zed remained steadfast.

He forced a smile, trying to shake off his gloomy feelings.

"Anyway, I was inadequate. If I had somehow managed to surpass even my father... my little sister would never have had to make such a foolish choice as protecting me."

"So that’s why you threw yourself into Hell to save Arwen?"

"Arwen, that bastard is getting married this autumn, isn’t he? He’s even going to have a son. I wondered who his wife would resent the most if he couldn’t even make it to his own wedding. I figured it would be me, since I’m the easiest target."

"You’re disqualified as a knight."

Choosing a friend over his lord.

"You’re right. I suppose this isn’t in my nature."

Yet Ferda did not find his decision offensive.

Because Zed had made that choice, Arwen was alive, and his relationship with Count Consilus would remain intact as well.

"Well, all you need is your face."

"Haha! I’m really grateful you put it that way."

Zed stretched, but stopped when his body began to hurt.

"Anyway, I’ll be going now. I haven’t slept properly since last night, so I should go wash my face."

"Go ahead."

Zed walked away, and Ferda turned his gaze back toward the royal castle.

It seemed the Allied Forces had discovered some corpses.

Knights were rushing over in groups, throwing heavy stones aside and digging intensively in that area.

The Imperial Army will probably finish up soon as well.

He had testified that they had died around the audience chamber, so they would search the entire area and confirm that they were not there.

All that would probably remain was Count Rooster’s head.

Then they would return.

That was when it happened.

Clatter!

At the sound of something spilling, Ferda instinctively turned his head.

An unexpected person came into view.

Garnet Swallow.

She had come as the supply unit commander and was carrying an armful of things as she emerged.

From behind Zed’s tent.

"......"

"......"

An uncomfortable silence followed as their eyes met.

"I-I greet you, Regent."

"...Yes."

"As you know, Sir Zed’s condition isn’t very good, so I was tending to him."

"I see."

Tending to him...

Her appearance now was far removed from her usual self.

Garnet normally dressed neatly.

Her shirt was missing buttons from their proper places and was precariously hanging off her shoulders.

Her hair was flattened as though she had been lying down.

Even if Ferda knew little about relations between men and women, he wasn’t blind.

Quite a man.

They say a man needs only enough strength to hold a spoon to pursue his desires, and he did it even while injured?

Garnet seemed eager to avoid this subject and tried to change the topic.

"You probably aren’t interested in something like this anyway. I think I was being overly sensitive. I’ll be going now—"

"I’m curious."

"What?"

"I said I’m curious."

What Ferda was curious about was not the affair between a man and a woman.

He was curious about why Garnet had made such a choice.

Why had that rational and ruthlessly cold woman allowed herself to be swept away by emotion and make such a decision?

"So, um..."

Garnet struggled to answer.

Her dark skin visibly reddened.

Her lost hands repeatedly tried to cover her face, and her words became tangled.

"I saw Zed suffering inside the tent, so... I took care of him for a while."

"I see."

"And then, naturally, it reminded me of the old days, so we talked about that for a while..."

"....."

"As you know, that Swallow’s body is his asset, isn’t it? I had to check here and there to make sure nothing was wrong..."

"So I suppose you conducted a function test as well."

"......."

Ferda turned his gaze toward the Heinkel royal castle.

"So, did it function properly?"

Garnet bit her lips tightly.

If she could have had her way, she would have wanted to die of shame right then and there.

Blood seeped from her lips, and with a face that looked as though she were about to drown, she barely managed to answer.

"It was... functional."

So it was.

***

At the site of the Heinkel royal castle’s collapse.

"Lieutenant William! The Allied Forces say they’ve discovered the bodies of the kings!"

It was extremely good news.

There were four kings whose bodies had not yet been found, which meant that the Second Prince had to be there as well.

"Whew, looks like we can finally stop doing this."

"I just want to go home already."

Their grief over the deaths of their comrades lasted only briefly.

The smell of corpses mixed with dust had become utterly unbearable.

They stretched and began preparing to withdraw.

"We’re continuing the work!"

William had no intention of doing so.

"What!?"

"I said they’re doing their work over there, while we’re doing ours here!"

"There’s really no reason to keep digging here..."

"No objections. Get back to work!"

At William’s command, the soldiers returned to their work.

Their commander was leading by example and working himself, so none of them dared to argue.

William had no intention of tormenting his soldiers.

We can wait for someone to emerge from beneath the rubble.

There were, in fact, people trapped underneath and unable to escape.

They had come prepared to face death, and William believed it was his duty to send even one more of them home alive.

He refused to abandon that hope and made his subordinates continue working until the very end.

And even if he was cursed for it, he would be the only one who had to bear it.

If playing the villain was what it took, he could do that anytime.

After digging all the way down, William could hear a voice from beneath the rubble.

It was faint.

But unmistakable.

It was the voices of children.

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