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Chapter 115
Not Anger
The battle began.
Ferda drew a magic circle on his hand.
Three magic circles manifested, floating at even intervals.
"Lightning Bolt."
What he fired were lightning bullets.
Ē ǹ uḿa
An element boasting overwhelming speed shot toward Lucy at Ferda's gesture.
"A shallow trick."
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Lucy was a seasoned witch, someone who had been through countless battles.
She predicted Ferda would use Lightning Bolt and blocked its path with vine stems.
Bang!
The arrow flying along the path took a direct hit.
Еnu̇ m̈ а̌
But that wasn't the end.
"Oh?"
She blocked the Lightning Bolt, but what spread from within were lumps of mana spheres with mass.
They scattered and swarmed Lucy.
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"An interesting trick."
Lucy didn't dodge.
Ѐ ñ ǔ m̃ а̇
They cruelly pierced her body, but she didn't bat an eye.
"To draw three spells without assistance and even apply them like that."
The technique Ferda displayed was enough to surprise Lucy.
For a Blue Circle owner, by the time they could show such technique, they would have reached the 5th Circle.
"He only used the speed attribute needed for Lightning Bolt. Putting small spheres inside a giant sphere. I know there's a magic circle to make that..."
She snapped her fingers with a sharp *ttak* as if realizing.
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"Don't tell me you did it manually?"
"You talk too much, Pavilion Master."
"That just means you have that much leisure, no?"
"That's true enough."
A hit that lands.
A black explosion erupted beneath Lucy, twisting space.
Еnu m̃ a
The strongest element among existing ones—Darkness.
It was Dark Bolt manifesting beneath her.
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Her already-holed head was completely shattered by the Dark Bolt, and the visible Lucy Philiaz died instantly.
-Hehehe, amazing.
What rang out was Lucy Philiaz's voice echoing throughout the entire garden.
The body that should have lost its vitality moved like a broken doll, then took a step forward.
E ṅùm̂ а . і ḋ
At that moment, as if nothing had happened, the broken flesh returned to pristine condition.
"Using Barbatos's Shadow Arts to strike at the opponent's blind spot. Good strategy, but a bit lacking in depth, baby."
"You're one to talk about depth?"
One wondered if the person who forced a fight on a mere 4th Circle Mage had any right to say that.
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Lucy merely smiled with amusement instead of retorting.
"Right then, try struggling to break the girl."
W̌ е̃ b.n̊ о v e l _E̊n̆u m̆ а
Lucy launched thorn tentacles at Ferda, and Ferda threw himself at her using various spells and means as a mage.
Ferda already knew.
No matter what he did, breaking Lucy was impossible.
Even feeling evenly matched was just Lucy adjusting things to make him mistakenly think she was barely keeping up.
"At this rate, there's no end."
Lucy let out a long yawn, bored.
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"Seems my sincerity wasn't properly conveyed, so I'll say it once more."
Lucy's energy surged powerfully.
"If you lose here, I'll violate your fiancée."
"This crazy bitch..."
A curse flew from his mouth.
At Ferda's loss of composure, Lucy smiled with satisfaction.
Ёn̆u m̄ ӓ. іd
"Baby, do you know what it's like for a woman to violate a woman? It's on a different dimension from men. She'll be made a slave to pleasure in an instant. What about making a dragon that way?"
Whether those words were true or not no longer mattered to Ferda.
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He couldn't endure the insulting words coming from that mouth.
Ferda steeled his resolve.
To fight prepared for his mana to run dry.
But even so, Ferda couldn't beat her.
W̊ ёb̆ nӧvel̂ Е̇ n ǔ m̄а
Even if he'd killed Lucy once before, it was close to hitting a rock with a raw egg.
Ferda knew her purpose.
'Drawing out trump cards.'
Every mage has their own trump card.
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Whether to run, land a proper hit, or take the enemy down with them.
Sometimes there are things kept secret even at the cost of one's life.
W̆e b̂ n о̆ v̄ѐl E̊ n̂u mâ
What Lucy was doing was exactly drawing those out.
She was breaking Ferda's conviction and reason, inducing him to show everything he had.
And Ferda had to take it even knowing that.
Lucy's threat couldn't be taken lightly.
Even if it was a joke, if Ferda didn't show sincerity, that joke would become truth.
That's what witches are like.
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He poured everything out, yet Ferda reached the brink of mana exhaustion.
"Is that it?"
Lucy with her veil torn and one eye lost.
She was a mess, but with one step, she returned to her original state.
Ferda breathed roughly and asked her.
"Satisfied?"
W е́ b́ nо̃v̌ еl Еn̊ u m а̂
"Satisfied? You think the girl went to this trouble to be satisfied?"
Lucy sneered.
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"You spoke so earnestly, yet your sincerity wasn't properly conveyed—truly regrettable. Valdrova is truly destined to become miserable."
Don't speak my fiancée's name from that mouth.
He wanted to say that, but Ferda couldn't.
After fighting this hard, all he felt was powerlessness, and if he was to be played with by someone's hand, how could he save her?
Ě n û m̆ а
You can't save anyone.
So, let me show you who I am.
A circuit turned in Ferda's chest.
A sweet voice whispered.
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Show her your true self.
"Shut up."
Е ǹ u m ӓ
Ferda resisted the voice.
But it tried to encroach on Ferda's heart through the cracks of his powerlessness.
That pleasure of being seized by hatred once more tried to violate Ferda.
Ferda chose faster than ever before.
'Rather than submit.'
Ferda unfolded a magic circle.
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'I'd rather die.'
Its target was his own chest.
"Dark Bolt."
A black sphere flew toward his heart.
Whoosh!
But what was heard was the sound of it slicing through empty air.
Ẅе́ b ň_о́v̂ el̃ Е̌ñ.u m ǎ
Ferda's wrist was pointed at the sky, and a small hand gripping that wrist was visible.
"...Incomprehensible actions."
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A girl with black hair and red eyes looked at him with bewildered eyes.
Ruby pupils and a faint scent of lilac.
A Pavilion Master's face ordinary men would never see even once in their lives.
He wondered why that face was visible.
Е num̀ а
The black veil fluttering behind her.
The Dark Bolt had grazed her head.
Ferda looked into her eyes and asked.
"Satisfied now, Pavilion Master?"
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Ferda glared at her fiercely.
Pushed to the brink by mana exhaustion and mental resistance, his expression was beyond control.
Еn ũ m̂ а
"That expression alone is truly satisfying."
She smiled a mature smile on a child's face.
She placed her right hand on Ferda's chest.
Something flowed in through his heart.
The exhaustion inducing migraines faded away.
She was filling Ferda's lacking mana just enough for his mind to become whole.
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"Sorry for making you fight an unwanted battle. But the girl, baby, needed to test you."
"What test?"
"What's inside this."
She pointed at Ferda's heart.
"Didn't you say these two eyes see many things?"
"That's right."
E.n ǔ m a
"Coincidentally, these eyes can see what constitutes your mana. But it's a power of no interest, so I didn't pay it mind. The one who broke that notion was you."
"What's in my heart?"
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"Something heterogeneous."
"Heterogeneous?"
"Something that doesn't suit the current you."
She added in a rather serious tone.
Е̂ n̆ û ḿа. īḋ
"But it's unmistakably something created by you. For those of us who possess Red Circles, it's something that can never coexist."
"You tested me because of that?"
"Right. I needed to drive you out before you realized the reason yourself."
A gesture saying there was no other intent.
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What would she actually want from Ferda?
Lucy Philiaz.
Wĕb̀ n̂ о̃ v е ĺ Е̂ nŭm̌ ӓ
She was the owner of the Rose Pavilion, the Big Sister of all witches, and the mage with the strongest power.
At the same time, she was the Red Circle Authority.
For now, that alone was enough to be convincing.
"So, baby, can you tell me what it is?"
Ferda's mouth wouldn't open easily.
Knowing he'd been caught in her scheme, that hiding it was meaningless.
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Because it was Ferda's shame.
"Don't tremble, just tell me. We're practically married already, aren't we?"
"...What?"
Ferda seriously frowned.
Lucy grinned at the sight.
"Hahaha! You removed my veil, so the groom has seen the bride's face, no?"
W̊ е b nо̃ vе l̄ E n ūm̂а
"Don't spout bullshit."
"Truly fun to tease. You have a cute side."
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She covers her laughing mouth with her hand.
Perhaps that's why her crescent-moon eyes shone bewitchingly.
"Since I've lightened the mood with a joke, now answer me."
He felt bad, but the pressure from before was gone.
Еn.ũ.m_а̀ .і̄ ď
As she said, the mood had lightened.
"This is..."
What killed my enemy,
What killed my family,
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What killed my fiancée,
"My anger."
W̄eb̌n̆о vе̌ l Ё n ū ṁ а̀
He felt like a penitent confessing his sins.
Lucy quietly looked at Ferda at that answer.
"Think again."
But the answer was outside Ferda's expectations.
"Why?"
"Why else? Because it's not your anger."
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No, it was anger.
Thinking back to when that voice was heard, it was so.
When Ruri was threatened and submitted,
And when he nearly killed his father, Eremvalt Rosnova, with his own hands—the voice was heard.
If that wasn't anger, what was?
"Think again. There must be something that made you misunderstand so."
Е ṅū m̈ а̇.і d
Ferda turned back at those words.
Discarding the answer he'd already set, he focused his senses like someone searching for a new answer.
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He traced back to when Ferda tried to kill Valdrova in the dream.
Ferda asked himself.
'Was that emotion really anger?'
No.
Е̊n̆ūmă.i̊ď
It wasn't.
What he gained by killing her was emptiness.
The emotion that sent him back to the past.
Then is it emptiness? He thought, but that wasn't the answer either.
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Following that clue, Ferda moved toward the answer.
Then a surprising thing happened.
Ӗ n̈úm̄ à
Something that couldn't be caught no matter how he tried to grasp it with his eyes began to take shape.
This emotion existed before his yearning for her.
Something asserting its existence ever so faintly with each heartbeat.
Ferda finally called its true name.
"Regret."
Yes. It was regret.
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This anxious voice was the regret Ferda possessed.
The ashes left after burning everything in the world.
Those ashes had settled in a corner of his heart.
"So that's what it is."
Ferda couldn't ask.
Before he could, Lucy moved.
Еňum̈ а .і̄ d̈
"So that yearning was also ultimately made through regret?"
Ferda nodded.
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"I know. It's disgusting."
"Hm?"
Lucy raised one eyebrow and stared at Ferda.
"Don't know what misunderstanding you have, but the girl doesn't find it disgusting, baby."
Е ǹ ü m̊ ȧ
"Your tone didn't seem that way."
"Your misunderstanding. What reason would there be to find it disgusting? Without that emotion, do you think you would have met Valdrova?"
Ferda could answer immediately.
Absolutely not.
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Ferda only properly learned about Valdrova after killing her.
Until then, she was an evil dragon, and he cursed her as deserving death.
W е.b nо v̄е̃ ľ E̊ n ů m̄ ă
At the departure, he cheered that the dragon's era would end with death and the human era would come.
He'd never listened to that voice, but at this moment it seemed to ring out cruelly vivid.
"Valdrova is a truly wretched woman. Good people dare not meet her, and only those trying to use her were full—she truly has no luck with people."
"..."
"Plus she's needlessly fearful. Phase of Fire and Power. She has the might to tear apart all monsters rushing the Far East, yet never once brandished authority, so she brought disaster on herself."
Valdrova never once lorded over anyone.
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Knowing that guarding the Far East was due to guilt, the current noble politics were full of bastards exploiting that.
Not brandishing authority, not looking out for herself—that was the face of a coward fearing ruin.
"She's not fearful."
Ferda rebutted her words almost instantly.
"If not fear, then what?"
"That woman acts that way because she's stronger than anyone."
Еnum̀ă
But to Ferda, that was far from 'fear'.
He was once the continent's worst mage.
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The reason wasn't just vengeance.
When preparing endless vengeance, he prepared for ambushes every time.
He forfeited night sleep, wrapped himself in barriers, and spent days suffering from paranoia.
He was a vengeance demon and simultaneously a coward.
Е ǹumӓ
He needed a sure-win method, and without it, he didn't shy from cowardice.
That's why Ferda knew.
If she were a coward, she would have lorded over someone.
And shattered even the sky above her head.
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Lucy, who had been watching that silently, opened her mouth.
"Head."
Ŵ_еb̀nо̄ v̇ ê l Еnũm̈а̌
"?"
"Stick your head out here."
Ferda hesitated, then stuck his head out to her.
Lucy stood on tiptoe and tried to place her hand on Ferda's head.
"Hmm, still not enough. Can't be helped."
Lucy pulled Ferda's body and hugged his head.
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Like comforting a child, she began stroking him.
"Good, good."
"What is this..."
"Shh, be quiet. Ruining the mood isn't good."
Ferda couldn't even ask why at the unilateral action.
"Baby, you amuse the girl. Talking with a man, feeling fresh youth for the first time in ages."
Ě n̄ umа̀.
After enjoying it for about five minutes, she let go of his face.
"Shouldn't a good child be rewarded?"
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Lucy's face, looked up at, was full of joy.
"Those two emotions you possess will instead become blessings."
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