Chapter 108: Karma
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 108: Karma
The battle was over, and the dust had settled.
The incidents that had plagued Hestia Village were finally drawing to a close. But while the situation was resolved for the villagers, Ferda was left with a mounting pile of concerns.
The return of the Demon Race.
In the end, Bernard Wayne, the President of Escoleia, had been right. It was now confirmed that Gokma, one of the beings once known as the Seven Calamities, was alive.
And he’s strong.
The sheer volume of mana Gokma displayed wasn't necessarily overwhelming, but its depth was extraordinary. The ability to tear through space with a mere flick of a finger to create a sub-space; the power to distort and destroy a designated location with a single snap—all of it far surpassed Ferda’s current capabilities.
If we face each other again, could I win?
Ferda ran through the scenarios in his mind. He calculated his available moves against the data he had gathered while observing Gokma, simulating the battle hundreds of times.
Is my win rate a mere decimal point?
Even that slim prediction of victory was based on the assumption that an unexpected miracle would occur. Furthermore, the simulated Gokma was measured only by the power he had revealed so far. If they fought in earnest and the creature revealed its hidden cards, Ferda would have no means to counter them.
In every scenario, Ferda’s probability of victory converged toward zero.
I must become stronger.
He needed the power to reach a higher realm and crush his enemy.
But is that even possible right now?
He now had a territory to manage and had to coordinate everything under the Archduchess’s domain. As his responsibilities grew, he would become busier, and his duties would inevitably cut into his training as a mage.
Or perhaps it’s in times like these that I must train even harder?
But if things were that simple, life would be easy. The Red Circle essentially operated on the turbulence of one's emotions. It was said that love and hatred were two sides of the same coin; there was a reason the term "love-hate" existed.
If he fell into a corrupted mindset, he would stray onto the path of hatred he knew all too well. Only through vigilance and steadfastness could he achieve proper growth.
But even then, how much stronger can I truly get?
He had a guiding light, but it was woefully insufficient to pierce through the thick fog ahead. Ferda did not know what lay on the path he was walking.
What if I... used that power again?
The Red Circle fueled by rage. That was a path Ferda knew intimately, and he knew exactly how to walk it. Against someone like Gokma, he might even be able to suppress him easily. It was a possibility.
Then, as if waking from a trance, he shook the thought away.
...I’m really being pushed to the edge.
To think he was actually considering such a foolish idea. That power must not be manifested again, under any circumstances. Was it not the very emotion that had ultimately killed Valdrova? He must never fall into the trap of thinking he could control it. Ferda had lived under that delusion for ten years in his past life.
Ferda moved on to the next thought, almost as if he were running away.
Then, is it a matter of tools...?
A staff imbued with mana, or scrolls inscribed with magic circles. Perhaps even byproducts created through Magitech could serve as his means.
The one I used to use was...
It was the staff known as the "Sixth Element." An ultimate weapon he had obtained after a week-long battle in the Tomb of the Undead King.
That’s not something I can use now.
It was a relic of the Undead King, a public enemy of the continent before the Dragon-Demon War. Back then, Ferda had been alone and was little more than a heinous criminal, so it hadn't mattered whether he used it or not. He hadn't cared if his own reputation suffered, but using it now would put Valdrova at risk.
Still, I do have something comparable.
The branch struck by the Heaven-Defying Lightning. It was the item he had been given for his contributions during the monster incident in Halim. He hadn't shown it to anyone and had set it aside for a while. If he crafted a staff from this, he would be able to wield the powerful, pure force of the Heaven-Defying Lightning.
But crafting it won't be easy.
It was only natural that the higher the power and efficiency of the magic, the higher the difficulty of the craft. A hundred years ago, it might have been different, but in Ferda’s current era, there were no enchanters or blacksmiths skilled enough to handle the Heaven-Defying Lightning. The dwarves in the southwest wouldn't touch an item belonging to a "Witch," and the Elves would likely show open hostility, thinking he was mocking them.
I’ll have to persuade the dwarves.
He hoped that if he persisted, he could somehow get them to craft it. As he was lost in thought, a visitor arrived.
Knock.
Knock.
The knocks were spaced far apart. The door opened cautiously, accompanied by a sound that seemed to lack confidence.
"Ferda? Are you busy?"
The intimidating helm of a dragon appeared. It was Valdrova.
"No, I’m fine. Do you need mana?"
"Yes, today as well..."
"Understood."
They were familiar enough with the routine that deep conversation wasn't necessary. She was wearing her Dragoon Armor, which stood well over two meters tall. The only part of her flesh exposed was her right hand. Ferda placed his hand against hers and began injecting his mana.
It’s warm, as always.
The mana seeping into her chest calmed her restless heart. She had felt it many times before, but it made her so comfortable that she wanted to experience it forever. Perhaps that was why she momentarily forgot the reason she had come.
I didn't come here just for this!
The reason Valdrova had come here and taken up Ferda’s time was that she had made a big decision.
I want to choose the topic of conversation today.
Wasn't that why she was continuing this charade? Conveniently, there was something she was curious about.
What does Ferda think of the Armored Knight?
Her heart fluttered. When she thought about it, the question was essentially asking what he thought of her.
Let’s ask.
Valdrova struggled to suppress her pounding heart and forced herself to speak.
"Fe-Ferda!"
"Yes."
"Um... Ruri mentioned something recently..."
Her pronunciation slipped. Because of the voice-altering tube, it sounded like a mournful echo to Ferda.
Ferda responded calmly. "What did she say?"
"Well... she said that the... the Armored Knight was very! A-active...!"
She ended up biting her tongue, and her momentum died instantly.
"I... I heard..."
"Ah, you mean that person."
Ferda looked surprised. He couldn't understand why she was suddenly curious about that. Valdrova suppressed the truth that was trying to burst out of her.
"I heard from Ruri that... he’s someone who cares deeply for the village."
"That is true."
It was true. Hearing those words, her anxious heart soared with joy.
"Is it really?"
"In the beginning, when we didn't have support from Halim, his strength played a major role. Thanks to him, we were able to put up many buildings much faster."
"I-is that so?"
He thinks I was helpful. A sense of pride welled up within her.
"At first, I was worried he might be a rebellious insurgent... but..."
"But?"
"It turns out I was mistaken."
Her voice carried a glimmer of hope. "Does that mean he’s a good person?"
"He is a good person, yes."
Valdrova felt like she could spread her wings and fly right then and there.
"However, he seems to have many problems."
"...Huh?"
The joy was short-lived. Having climbed so high, it was time to fall.
"He seems to be quite foolish."
"F-foolish?"
"Even during the council meeting, it was obvious he was being swayed by others. He doesn't seem particularly bright."
"That's..."
"If someone wears knight's armor and keeps a Vow of Silence, their writing should be their most important tool. But his handwriting is a mess, and he can't even get the spelling right..."
"..."
"Someone like that is bound to have a twisted life if they meet the wrong person. I was actually a bit worried."
"..."
Ferda glanced at her hand. "Are you alright?"
"...Ye-yes?"
"Your hand is bright red."
Her hand, which had been as white as jade, was now beet red. Realizing this, Valdrova hurriedly pulled her hand away.
"I-it’s nothing..."
"It looks like a rejection reaction or something similar. I should examine it more closely—"
"I-it’s really! It’s nothing, so you don't need to worry!"
Valdrova bolted upright. Ferda was startled by her sudden movement.
"I’ll be going early today."
"Is that enough? I feel like I gave you less than usual."
"Yes, I... I just need a little bit of strength."
With those words, she fled the room. Watching her go, Ferda realized he had made a mistake.
I suppose speaking ill of others isn't a good choice.
He thought he had softened his words, but it seemed he was wrong. She had brought up a topic for conversation, and he had ended up making her uncomfortable.
I should cut back on that next time, Ferda resolved, promising to do better.
* * *
Valdrova returned straight to her lair. She stepped out of her armor and collapsed onto her bed. Unlike her usual self, she curled up and hugged her legs.
"Uuuu..."
A small groan escaped her. Her body trembled slightly.
"Master, it’s Ruri. I’m coming in."
Ruri entered the room. She saw Valdrova, who had turned herself into a human cocoon.
"...Why are you acting like that?"
"Rurii..."
Valdrova called her name and looked up. Her face was as red as her hair.
"..."
Ruri knew exactly why she was like this. She had already heard what they had talked about. With tears welling in her eyes, Valdrova buried her face in the small attendant’s chest.
"Speak."
"Ferda... Ferda called me a dummy..."
"..."
"Can't you at least deny it?"
She looked up with tearful eyes, but Ruri didn't budge.
"Didn't I tell you to study more often?"
"I did... I did, but..."
"Besides, you hear that all the time. Is it really something to react like this to?"
"Of course, Iorga said it, and others did too, but..."
Valdrova hugged her legs tight and whined in a sorrowful voice. "It makes me sadder when Ferda says it."
"He didn't say it directly to you, Master."
"That’s why it’s even more upsetting! He’s usually so kind when he speaks, but in his heart, he must think I’m a total idiot!"
"..."
"Deny it. I’m really going to cry."
Valdrova grew even more miserable at Ruri’s lack of response.
"You don't need to worry. If you put in the effort, Master, he will surely recognize that side of you as well."
"Do you think so?"
"So..."
Ruri thrust two books toward her.
- Spelling Study That Even a Child Can Easily Learn
- The Process of Becoming an Elegant Young Lady for Children: Let’s Write Pretty Words!
"You’ll have to do it, won't you?"
Valdrova looked back and forth between Ruri and the two books before finally speaking with difficulty.
"...Yeah."
There was no age limit to learning.
* * *
That night, Ferda had a dream.
Valdrova was there. It wasn't a castle. It was a small house—the kind of modest cottage Ferda had stayed in after being kicked out of the castle and losing all his money.
It’s a dream.
Since it didn't seem like a harmful dream, he decided to just sit there until he woke up.
"Are you awake?"
A beautiful voice tickled his ear. Ferda had heard this voice exactly once before. With a flicker of hope, he looked up.
Long red hair and golden eyes. She didn't have the two pairs of horns or the slit pupils, and her clothing was simple, but Ferda knew exactly who she was.
There’s no mistake.
It was Valdrova.
"What’s wrong? You look pale."
Her hand gently caressed Ferda’s cheek. A warmth, like coming home, enveloped his entire body. Seeing Ferda’s face relax, Valdrova gave a soft, beaming smile. Because he was holding her hand, the sensation was incredibly vivid. He even thought it might be okay to stay trapped in this dream.
"Shall we do that?"
"Do... that?"
When Ferda reacted with confusion, Valdrova’s eyes crinkled playfully. She leaned in closer.
"The thing you’re good at."
Her soft hand took hold of Ferda’s. His hand was pulled along, unable to resist. The place she led it to was her neck. Ferda was strangling her.
"Now, kill me."
Startled, Ferda tried to pull his hand away. But it wouldn't move. Her hands were firmly locked over his, and the more he struggled, the tighter the grip became.
Blood began to flow from her golden eyes. Valdrova’s form began to melt and distort.
—Why?
A scream erupted from her mouth.
—Why did you kill me?
Countless voices swam through Ferda’s head. It was karma—the inevitable retribution for the things he had done. They say that karma is inescapable, even if one returns to the past. They say it returns to strangle you.
But Ferda’s karma was strangling someone else instead. The person he should love the most. Karma knew that this was the most painful thing for Ferda.
—Why? Why? Why?
—I didn't do anything...
—Give me back my father!
The chaotic voices grew louder. Strength surged into the slender neck. At the end of the chaos, a terrible silence fell.
Had he woken from the dream? No. The slender sensation was still vivid in his hands.
Ferda.
A voice echoed from within.
Now, listen to my voice again.
The voice was so sweet.
Remember who you are.
Ah.
I am...
Snap—.
* * *
He opened his eyes to the sound of something snapping and breaking. Cold sweat poured down his body, making him feel disgusted. But what was even more repulsive was...
The circuit...
The Red Circle was spinning violently. Again. Even though his feelings weren't directed at Valdrova, the circuit in his chest was rotating fiercely.
Ferda forced himself up. He emptied his mind. He made it completely hollow until nothing remained. Soon, Ferda’s circle settled into a calm state.
It was simpler than he had feared. But even that simplicity was unwelcome to Ferda. Because it meant he already knew.
Why...
It pointed toward a sense of déjà vu. A déjà vu that should not exist for Ferda.
Why does hatred still remain within me?
It was the very thing that had turned Ferda into a 9th Circle disaster.
* * *
Ferda’s mind became a mess. This wasn't a matter of Mana Fatalism or some other nonsense. This was something he was actually feeling, something that was actually rotating. Ferda had vaguely felt its presence before.
So... that time wasn't my imagination?
Abel Silverwind. The third-rate villain who had threatened Ruri, a man whose name wasn't even worth remembering. Back then, Ferda had made everything in the darkness his own. In doing so, he had reached into Abel’s body and killed him on the spot.
That was something a 4th Circle mage could not achieve, and it should have been impossible even for Ferda. Ferda retraced the sensations of that moment. Like slowly rewinding time, he went back to just before that death.
—Are you just going to watch?
A voice.
It was a sweet voice. It had stirred something inside his body and drawn out power. That power of his, which had been consumed by rage.
Even though I turned back time, does that still remain?
The power that had killed his family, killed innocent people, and even killed the person he now loved—that power was inside Ferda.
He was confused. This was on a different level than simply being bound by Mana Fatalism. If that had been a vague anxiety, this was a fact backed by evidence.
Knock, knock, knock.
A knock at the bedroom door. Ruri entered.
"Lord Ferda."
"Why are you here?" Irritation seeped into his voice despite himself.
"A visitor has arrived."
"I have no intention of receiving guests today. Send them back."
"I came to ask because it is someone you know, Lord Ferda."
"Someone I know?"
Who would come here to meet him in person? While the names of numerous figures swirled in his head, the name that came out of Ruri’s mouth was unexpected.
"It is your father, Erembalt Rosnova."
The starting point of the hatred he carried.