My Slain Dragon Bride

Chapter 272. A True Patriot

"You know very well, too. That’s a fake."

"Now I’d like to ask a question. Grand Duke Golt, how did you know that?"

"Exactly as you said."

He was obsessed with Olivia, and because of that, he knew her well. He even remembered all those gestures that could never have been produced through mere acting.

"She was a complete stranger."

"I don’t believe you."

Ferda confronted him head-on.

"I find it more believable that you’ve joined hands with the Demon Race and are conspiring with them."

"Haha! That’s quite a bold thing to say."

He was in league with the Demon Race.

It was a statement more than enough to provoke anger, yet Valdemar smiled as he spoke.

"I laughed too much, and now my throat feels a little scratchy. Could I have another cup of tea?"

Ferda raised a finger and quietly manipulated the shadows, lifting the teacup.

Even though Ferda was openly using Black Magic, Valdemar remained completely composed.

He took a sip of the tea, which had cooled to just the right temperature, and spoke.

"Tell me. You already know that Olivia isn’t herself, don’t you? So what do you think I did to Princess Olivia?"

"I think you’re keeping her imprisoned."

Olivia was someone he wanted to possess.

Once she became a Saintess, she would claim to have sworn an eternal oath to God, allowing her to escape the fate imposed upon women who were expected to marry.

"And wouldn’t you eventually take her for yourself somehow?"

"Well, that’s also true. I did something terribly cruel to Stella, so I wanted to cherish Olivia at least. But if I grew a little older and sicker and became desperate, I might have turned Olivia into that kind of woman myself."

"You’re speaking as though you aren’t like that now."

"Because I’m not. If I were, wouldn’t that mean I had joined hands with the Demon Race’s lackeys?"

"You haven’t?"

Ferda asked rudely.

"Regent, I’ve told you time and time again, I’m a patriot. I may do many terrible things, but I do them solely for the sake of this Empire. To that end, I always make sure that I remain nothing more than a tool. So that the means never become the end. The Demon Race is the lowest of the low, among the garbage that could never be treated as a tool."

To Ferda, it sounded like the foolish words of an intellectual who believed he had put a leash around a demon.

Valdemar could sense the look in Ferda’s eyes.

"Regent, do you happen to trust me?"

"Would I?"

"I suppose not. You know that I was the one who did terrible things to you, and I also did terrible things to the Grand Duchess."

He gave a faint chuckle and took another sip of tea.

"Whether you believe me or not is up to you. In any case, as of today, I’ve become a man who doesn’t have much longer to live. Everything I tell you from this point onward will be the truth."

"Go on."

"I found out that Olivia had been replaced a week ago."

He continued.

"I requested one final meeting with her before she became a Saintess. At the time, I intended to let Olivia go."

"......"

"But when Olivia came and looked at me, something about her gaze was strange."

"What do you mean by that?"

"She hated me."

"She always hated you."

"Yes, I know. I’ve watched her longer than anyone else. I already know what emotions that child carries."

Ferda’s brows naturally furrowed.

Knowing that Olivia hated him and yet refusing to let her go—the obsession behind it irritated Ferda.

"When I met that child, I knew at a glance. It was the kind of hatred no different from what those people who merely shower others with shallow flattery possess. It wasn’t the deep, dark hatred that child had always carried."

"I see."

But that wasn’t what Ferda wanted to know.

"So where is Olivia?"

Ferda still did not trust him, but he felt that he needed to hear everything Valdemar had to say.

As though he had anticipated the question, Valdemar took something out and handed it to Ferda.

It was a note made from a piece of expensive cloth that had been torn apart.

— I have the Princess with me. If you wish to reclaim the Princess, cooperate with me.

"It arrived that night, after I met the Princess. Whoever was behind it already knew that I had figured out what was going on."

It wasn’t Olivia’s handwriting, nor was it Valdemar’s.

Ferda read the next sentence.

— Assist us in overthrowing the Arken Empire.

What the other party wanted was the collapse of the Empire.

"So you’re saying you’re aligning yourself with their intentions...?"

"Half right, half wrong."

"Where does killing the Emperor fall?"

"That would be the overthrow."

Killing the monarch of a nation was a grave crime that could never be forgiven.

"I can’t say there were no personal feelings involved. Do you know what happened behind the scenes?"

"What?"

"As soon as I discovered this fact, I reported it to His Majesty. I told him about the Princess’s true identity and about the existence of the Doppelgänger as well. And do you know what he said?"

His voice was filled with anger.

"He said it didn’t matter whether it was real or not."

"..."

"It didn’t matter whether Princess Olivia was real or fake. He said he didn’t want the country ruined because of a single daughter."

"Is that what made you angry?"

"I have served this country loyally. Those who show loyalty must receive their due reward. If that reward is denied, what reason would I have to serve such a king? A king like that is worse than useless."

He spoke of being a patriot, yet had no hesitation in killing the Emperor.

To Ferda, it looked nothing more than cowardly self-justification.

"And then didn’t he suggest completely weakening the Alte Religion?"

"Wasn’t that what you wanted?"

"I would agree if it were necessary to maintain the current system, but I never wanted it to become the foundation for absolute royal authority. If you truly care about this country, that is what you must do."

Ferda laughed inwardly at how ridiculous it sounded.

"So you killed him? That alone has already caused enormous chaos."

This time, Valdemar laughed.

"Truthfully, he deserved to die. Who would welcome a man who was most competent when he was confined to his bed suddenly picking up a pen and trying to create new chaos? It was necessary for the fate of the Arken Empire."

"Is that the half you were talking about?"

"There’s more. What happens to the ground after it rains?"

"It becomes hard."

Hardness.

While thinking about what that hardness meant, Ferda recalled something.

"So that’s why Alexander Arken was able to escape."

"Exactly."

The Emperor and Princess had been killed, but the Crown Prince was still alive and fleeing.

"If the second-in-command kills the Emperor and takes control, what do you think will happen if that very second-in-command begins acting like a tyrant?"

"The last remaining member of the bloodline would somehow be able to gain support."

Just as the ground hardens after rain.

Half of what Valdemar had described was overthrow, while the other half was loyalty.

But there was one thing Ferda could not understand.

"Let’s say you killed the Emperor because you needed to. But did you really have to drag Olivia here and cut her throat?"

Everything Valdemar did was extreme.

Valdemar readily answered the question.

"The nobles know what kind of feelings I have for Olivia. They probably thought I was just some old man who was nearly dying but still chasing after women. Why do you think they knew that? They repeatedly tried to entertain me by bringing prostitutes with large breasts, blonde hair, and blue eyes. They made a complete mockery of genuine affection."

Valdemar gave a faint laugh.

"I hate people who make a fool of me."

"I suppose I hate them too."

"I hate you as well. But only because you’re my enemy. I know that you consider me your enemy, but you have never once made a fool of me. I quite like people who show me respect."

Ferda could not understand what he meant.

"Anyway, in that situation, I killed Olivia with my own hands. So what do you think people would have thought?"

"They would have thought you’d finally lost your mind."

"Exactly. They’d think I’d gone insane. And seeing such a madman naturally leads to fear. If they’re afraid, then whether they support me or not, they won’t dare think of doing anything against me."

"Wouldn’t that only have a temporary effect?"

"All I need is that temporary effect. If I’m not going to rule for a thousand years, fear is the most effective method."

Valdemar subtly pushed his teacup forward.

Seeing the empty cup, Ferda filled it again.

After moistening his throat, Valdemar continued.

"Where do you think the driving force behind a person’s ability to attract others lies? A handsome appearance and eloquent speech? Those things are merely supplementary. In the end, they’re all things that will disappear as dew upon a blade. Humans fear power and are creatures ruled by the emotion known as fear. That is why a Tyrant is far more effective than a benevolent king at bringing people together."

"And what are you going to do once you bring them together?"

"I’m going to bring Olivia back. And I’m going to obtain a promise."

At those words, Ferda frowned.

He wasn’t foolish enough to forget the conversation they had just had.

"You clearly said that you intended to let her go when she was about to become a Saintess. But now you say you intend to obtain a promise. Isn’t that contradictory?"

"The fact that the Princess intended to become a Saintess and the fact that the Emperor intended to break his promise are two different matters. It’s like the difference between an apple becoming rotten and therefore being inedible, and someone saying they have no intention of giving you an apple in the first place. Do you understand the difference?"

"It’s nothing more than a cowardly excuse to force your justification into place."

"I don’t care. I suppose I might be doing exactly that myself."

Valdemar set down his teacup and spoke.

He finally came to the reason he had summoned Ferda here—the main point.

"I intend to reclaim Olivia. To do that, I will become a Tyrant, and there is something I need you to do for that Tyrant."

"The Far East has special autonomous rights, Usurper."

Ferda rejected him outright.

"I told you, I’m a Tyrant. I’m not someone who can be stopped by a few drops of ink buried on a piece of paper."

"You intend to ignore our autonomy and commit atrocities?"

A strange light appeared in Ferda’s eyes.

It was a gaze that could make people shrink back, but Valdemar did not flinch.

"Don’t misunderstand me. I’m saying there’s no need for things to escalate into such atrocities and make us turn against each other. All I want is to receive support in the form of Magitech weapons."

"You’ve already usurped the throne. What do you think will happen to the people who provide weapons to you on top of that?"

"They’ll be put in a very difficult position. I understand that completely. So will you stop?"

Valdemar spoke shamelessly.

"Judging from the circumstances, it was the Demon Race that abducted Olivia. If weapons created under the pretext of protecting the Arken Empire from the threat of the Demon Race cannot actually be used when that very justification arises, what do you think will happen?"

"There is still no evidence that they are useful against the Demon Race."

"Think more broadly. Those Demon Race members naturally command Monsters, and it has already been proven that Magitech is extremely useful for fighting Monsters. It will be a means of inspiring the 100,000 troops under my command."

"At the same time, they’ll fear you even more, and you’ll rule for a longer period with even greater power."

"All I want is the power to reclaim Olivia. For that, I simply need the Magitech weapons you created."

"Then we will retrieve her ourselves."

"Young Regent."

Valdemar put down his teacup and tilted his head.

"Although it’s unfortunate that you remain my enemy, I don’t want to obstruct your future. That is why I’m saying this, so I hope you’ll take my words seriously. For everyone’s sake, I want you to stay out of the Olivia matter as much as possible."

"Why?"

"Do you know what feelings Olivia has for you?"

Ferda answered.

"Camaraderie."

"Don’t lie to yourself. You have a vague idea of it too, don’t you? She shows an expression around you that she never shows even when she attends gatherings with other women."

Ferda had often felt a sense of incongruity when he was with Olivia.

He could be rather dull when it came to such things, but after spending so much time with her, even that dullness had gradually become clear enough for him to recognize.

In particular, the remark about the handkerchief left behind by Ureas still lingered in Ferda’s mind.

"Admit it. That girl is in love with you."

Ferda wavered for an instant, but only for a moment.

His opponent was Valdemar.

Valdemar Golt was the man who had isolated Stella’s fiancé and driven him to his death.

"So you’re telling me not to help her and simply stand by?"

"That would be a bad thing. If you help her, I have no choice but to approve. But if you do everything alone, that girl’s dream will grow larger and larger. Do you know what will happen then?"

"I don’t."

"You’ll become the Prince on the White Horse."

The Prince on the White Horse—the very embodiment of the dreams every noble lady dreamed of.

"That girl is the kind who always obtains whatever she wants. Once that extraordinary mind of hers becomes obsessed with you, your pure love story will never be peaceful again."

Don’t talk nonsense.

Ferda wanted to say that.

But the words never left his mouth.

The doubts in Ferda’s heart, along with the look in Valdemar’s eyes that seemed to say he was speaking nothing but the truth—

All of it was testing Ferda.

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