Chapter 129: A Cruel World
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 129: A Cruel World
The young nobleman, who had attempted to flee in the dead of night, had remained unconscious ever since his carriage was intercepted and destroyed.
It wasn't long, however, before he began to stir.
"Ugh..."
A low groan escaped his lips as consciousness slowly returned, accompanied by the throbbing ache of his battered body.
"Urgh... What is this?"
He tried to move, only to find his hands bound tightly to the armrests and his neck lashed to the back of the chair. He was forced to stare straight ahead, his vision filled by nothing but a single, flickering candle.
Across from him sat a gray-haired man, exuding a grim, suffocating aura.
The man sat with his chin resting on his hands, watching him intently. His eyes, a deep, dark blue like a bottomless abyss, shimmered coldly in the dim light.
The captive knew exactly who this man was.
It was Ferda Valdrova.
The young noble grasped the situation instantly—or at least, he thought he did. A mocking smirk played on his lips as he addressed his captor.
"Why the silence? You kidnap a man only to sit there like a statue?"
Only then did Ferda speak.
"To be honest, I was worried."
"Worried?"
"I wondered if I was making a mistake. I asked myself what would happen if I kidnapped an innocent man and ended up killing him."
Ferda lowered his hands and leaned back into the shadows of his chair.
"But it turns out I was right."
He spat out the name of the culprit who had branded the Valdrova name with the mark of a murderer.
"Marcus Yurei."
The eldest son and heir of House Yurei. He was the source of the auditory hallucinations that had been haunting Ferda.
"I trust you know why you were brought here."
"Yeah, I know." Marcus looked up at Ferda with hollow eyes and a sneer. "It seems the great Regent followed those whispers quite faithfully, didn't he? And here I thought he was the type to ignore the voices of the masses."
"You lowly human, not knowing your place..."
Ruri stepped forward, her temper flaring at the insult. Ferda raised a hand, silently signaling her to stand down. Ruri obeyed instantly, though her eyes remained murderous.
Ferda was no less furious than she was.
"...Why did you do it?"
"Why? Isn't the reason obvious?" Marcus let out a manic laugh, the sound of a man who had long since lost his mind. "The man I call father is now a war criminal, and the vultures are swarming to tear our duchy apart. Meanwhile, aren't you sucking our territory dry with those refugees?"
"Isn't that because of your own stupidity?" Ferda shot back, his voice laced with aggression. "Your father caused this mess with his half-baked request for mediation. What were we supposed to do?"
"You could have just returned the refugees."
"You stayed quiet all winter, only to bring this up now that it's spring? How shameless."
"Right. Shameless indeed. Especially since you've treated our land like your personal soup kitchen." Marcus grinned broadly, looking as if he had finally caught Ferda in a trap. "But aren't you just as shameless?"
"..."
"It’s been a hundred and fifty years since the Dragon-Demon War broke out. How many people has the Archduchess killed in that time? Wasn't the decision to live in seclusion made because her hands were too stained with blood?"
He leaned forward as much as his bindings allowed, his tone dropping to a low, venomous hiss.
"If you're a murderer, you should stay crawled up in your hole like one."
Suddenly, Marcus was knocked backward, chair and all.
It wasn't Ruri who had attacked him.
Ferda had lost his composure. Eschewing magic, he clenched his fist and struck Marcus across the face with raw, physical force.
Thwack! Crack! Thud!
A merciless beating ensued. Ferda poured every ounce of his resentment into his strikes.
Snap!
The sound of something breaking violently echoed through the room.
But it wasn't Marcus’s skull that had given way.
As if to prove it, Ferda’s own wrist went limp—mangled and useless. Marcus’s face was merely slightly swollen, protected by some unseen force.
"Heh... heh heh... The Regent’s fist is so delicate he can't even draw a nosebleed."
"Shut up."
Ferda had known it would come to this. Even knowing his physical limitations, he hadn't been able to hold back. He had wanted to break that face with his own hands, not with a spell.
"Your right hand is broken; will you use your left now? Why don't you give it a try?"
Marcus continued to mock him relentlessly. Ferda grabbed him by the collar, his voice a low growl.
"Don't be in such a hurry. This is only the beginning."
Ferda knew exactly how to make a person pray for the mercy of death. He intended to use every scrap of that dark knowledge to grant this man a life of pure, unadulterated agony.
Marcus let out a manic cackle.
"The beginning? Who said I’d let you start?"
"What? Do you think I’ll follow the rules of your precious nobility? Or do you plan to die before I can even begin? Go ahead and try. But as long as you're in my hands, I am the one who decides whether you live or die."
Ferda tried to crush him with his gaze. Yet, Marcus showed no sign of fear.
It was then that Ferda realized—the man had one last move left.
"Regent Ferda, welcome to this cruel world."
As soon as the words left his mouth, a faint distortion appeared around Marcus's neck. Space itself seemed to warp and twist.
Crack! Snap!
Marcus’s neck twisted at an impossible angle, snapping with a sickening crunch.
He died instantly.
The sudden silence was replaced by a heavy, bewildered atmosphere. Ruri, who had been watching the exchange, called out tentatively.
"Lord Ferda?"
"...I didn't do that."
"Did you perhaps lose control of your reason and...?"
"No, it wasn't me."
He had been angry, but it wasn't the blinding, overwhelming rage he had felt during the incident with Erembalt. Ferda calmly knelt to examine Marcus’s neck.
"Look."
There were faint, dissipating traces of a black magic circle.
"He must have set a trigger. His neck was enchanted to snap the moment he recited that phrase."
"Then that greeting was the key." Ruri immediately bowed her head. "I am sorry for doubting you, even for a moment."
"No, there's no need to apologize." Ferda looked at the corpse, his expression grim. "Doesn't the fact that even you doubted me mean that everyone else will see it the same way?"
Ferda stepped back, viewing the situation from a distance. One thing was certain: he was sinking into a deep, dark mire.
"Ruri."
"Yes."
"You said you attacked the carriage and brought him here yourself, right?"
She nodded. "I did. I suppressed the urge to slaughter the guards and only brought this piece of trash."
"Are you sure no one saw you?"
"Few saw my face... but if they are determined to find out, they will."
She had even unleashed Dragon Fear to prevent a massacre, leaving a magical signature that was impossible to hide.
The question is whether the survivors went to report this or returned to the castle...
Either way, the situation was catastrophic. If they reported it, Duke Yurei would demand blood. If they returned to the castle, they would eventually find Marcus’s body with a snapped neck in Ferda's custody.
As it stood, it looked as though Ferda had kidnapped and murdered the son of a Duke in a fit of rage.
"Didn't he admit himself that he insulted the Archduchess?"
"He didn't do it publicly," Ferda noted.
The fact that Marcus had whispered his insults so only a Valdrova with keen hearing could catch them was intentional. Even trying to prove the provocation would be problematic.
Black magic will surely be mentioned.
Marcus Yurei had died by black magic. Once that was brought up, the narrative would be steered toward Ferda being the one who used it. He knew this because the Ferda of the past had lived through it. Black magic was a brand, and his enemies were desperate to burn it into his skin.
The death of young Lord Marcus had already plunged Ferda into a swamp.
Who benefits from this death?
The first person who came to mind was Duke Yurei himself. He was a man who would label refugees as rebels just to blood his knights. Using his own son as a sacrificial stepping stone was entirely within his character.
"What shall we do with the body?"
Ferda looked down at the twisted corpse. There were many ways to dispose of it—burial, monsters, or fire. The Ferda of old would have chosen one without hesitation. But not now.
He was the Regent. He was the acting lord of Hestia Village. He was Valdrova’s fiancé.
"...How cruel," Ferda muttered.
Just then, the door to the interrogation room burst open.
"Regent Ferda! The Tower Master has contacted us—"
Isabella stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening at the sight of the corpse. "What on earth happened here?"
"It’s complicated, but for now, just know that he paid the price for blaspheming the Archduchess."
"I see."
As a Dragon Spawn, Isabella quickly accepted the death of the impious. However, as an administrator, her expression clouded at the political implications of a high noble's death.
Ruri rebuked her for the intrusion. "How can you barge in without knocking?"
"I know I’ve been rude, but this is a matter of extreme urgency." Isabella held out a crystal ball. "The Tower Master contacted us via emergency channel. She’s asking to speak with you immediately."
"I understand."
Ferda connected his mind to the crystal ball.
—Regent. I’m busy, so I’ll skip the pleasantries.
Erica’s voice sounded frantic.
—Are you by any chance in the middle of the Start of Spring Festival?
"No."
—Then is the festival over?
"Nominally, yes, but many guests are still at the castle."
—The young lords and ladies haven't left yet, have they?
"Some departed during the night."
—If they’ve gone far, there’s nothing we can do, but for now, gather as many as possible!
Erica finally revealed the cause of her panic.
—The Archduchess’s territory has been occupied by monsters! If anyone moves now, they’ll be slaughtered!
* * *
An emergency was declared throughout the peaceful Valdrova territory. It wasn't just Hestia Village, which bordered the Land of Demons; the crisis extended across the lands of every noble under the Archduchess's rule.
With the help of Isabella and Ruri, Ferda mapped out the current situation. Looking at the completed map, his heart sank.
"...We’ve become an island."
The monster lines were precisely isolating the Far East.
"These aren't just ordinary monsters; they are super-sized entities. They’ve clustered around twelve 'Mothers'—monsters on the same scale as the ones Lady Valdrova usually handles."
"Twelve?"
"Twelve."
Twelve super-sized monsters meant twelve legions. These were creatures that could level a fortress just by walking past it. Ferda had seen Valdrova fight them; he knew their power.
If they start moving...
It was only a matter of time before the territory was laid to waste.
"The only silver lining is that those super-sized ones lack mobility."
"So there's no risk of them swarming us all at once?"
"The problem is their primary ability," Ruri said, her expression troubled.
"What ability?"
"Reproduction. They are creating legions by spawning more monsters."
They were acting as mobile hatcheries. Gokma had set it up so that monsters would be produced continuously without him having to manually intervene.
"The Mothers are already surrounded by dozens of monsters, and they’re spawning more as we speak. If they aren't stopped, they’ll become legions of thousands in no time."
"If they exceed thousands, it will be a catastrophe."
"Hmm..."
The only way to stop the growth was a mobile strike. They had to hit them fast and hard.
"What if... Her Highness Valdrova steps in?"
"That would be the best option, of course, but..." Ruri pointed to the area near the Land of Demons. "Large-scale forces are on standby here. They’re all positioned along the front lines where the Master cannot enter."
The intention was transparent.
"They’ll strike the moment she leaves the mountain."
"Exactly."
It was a brilliant, strategic move. To protect Hestia Village, Valdrova was effectively tethered to the Lonely Mountain. Such a calculated maneuver pointed to one person.
Gokma. It must be him.
The man who could summon monsters with a flick of his finger and manipulate space at will.
Ferda made the only logical move left.
"We have no choice but to request aid from the Empire."
Since the Archduchess’s territory was part of the Empire, the crown was obligated to intervene. Ferda immediately initiated contact.
—Greetings to the Regent of the Valdrova territory, Lord Ferda Valdrova! I am Hans, a communication mage of the Great Arken Empire!
"Who is the person in charge of internal security?"
—The person in charge, you say?
"Bring me the highest authority. Monsters have invaded Imperial territory."
—Ah, yes! Understood! Please wait a moment!
Judging by the mage’s reaction, the Empire was genuinely unaware of the scale of the situation. After a moment, the signal shifted with a burst of static. A different voice came through—slick, oily, and condescending.
—This is the Crown Prince, Alexander Arken.
"Greetings, Your Highness."
—Yes, I’ve heard. The Empire is already in an uproar over this.
Ferda hoped he could appeal to the man's reason. "We need reinforcements. You must dispatch Imperial troops and strike as quickly as possible."
—Of course, of course. We will send as much aid as we can. However, it will take some time.
"How long?"
—Two months.
Two months. Ferda’s brow furrowed. Was this pig mocking him?
"You’re telling me to leave those behemoths alone for sixty days?"
—Now, don't say such hurtful things. We are doing our absolute best. If our best efforts result in that timeframe, what can we do?
Doing his best.
There was no sense of urgency in Alexander’s voice. Ferda wasn't a fool; he could see right through the Prince. Alexander intended to exploit this crisis to bleed the Archduchess's territory dry.
"Do you want me to bow my head and offer you a bribe?"
—Now, now! You know it’s not like that. War costs a great deal of time and money, and when you process things according to Imperial law... it’s not an easy task, you see.
In short, if he wanted the army dispatched, he had to offer something profitable.
You sanctimonious pig.
Ferda wanted to hurl insults at him, but the weight of his responsibility suppressed his temper.
"I will think about it."
Ferda cut the connection. Struggling to calm his boiling blood, he turned to Ruri. "What happens if we leave those monsters alone for two months?"
"If they continue to spawn at this rate, they’ll become an army of tens of thousands."
Isabella added, "The army is one thing, but the soil is also a problem. Life dies wherever monsters linger. If the land dies, the entire area must be excavated. If the soil around the territory dies, we will remain an island even after the monsters are gone."
They had to be removed quickly, but the Empire had no intention of acting. In the end, Ferda had to handle it himself.
"Do you think we can do it?" Ruri voiced her anxiety.
"We can," Ferda replied.
Because they had to.