Chapter 142: It’s Okay to Cry
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 142: It’s Okay to Cry
Silverwind was a dragon of silver hair and silver eyes.
Among her kind, she possessed the gentlest of souls. At one time, her affinity for humans was so high that she was the most renowned of the Guardian Dragons for her sociability.
If the world exists in a state of balance, then the antithesis of that gentleness was found in Silverwind’s spawn.
In stark contrast to Silverwind’s mild nature, his spawn placed the utmost importance on tradition and discipline. This was a necessity; in the eternal struggle against the Frost Giants swarming from beyond the Northern Barrier, every individual life was a vital resource. Thus, the rugged barbarians of the North considered becoming a spawn of the Silver Dragon to be the highest possible honor.
From that perspective, Ruri—who had bypassed tradition to undergo the Ascension Ceremony—was an exceptional case, and she was not viewed kindly.
In truth, with a bit of flexibility, they might have overlooked the fact that she became a Dragon Spawn through the ceremony. However, the real problem surfaced when Ruri declared her true intention: she wanted to become a warrior.
From that moment on, Ruri was subjected to nothing but cruel, relentless hazing.
“Lord Goz was the worst of them all.”
Goz Silverwind was the second-in-command even then, a loyal subordinate who served Silverwind. He was so rigid regarding tradition and discipline that one might think his personality was the polar opposite of the dragon he served.
Since Ruri was not a handpicked warrior, she had to be taught from the basics, and those basics were rooted in sheer perseverance. Under the pretext of forging that endurance, Goz marked Ruri as his personal target.
What he did was far from teaching.
It was a series of one-sided beatings and systematic abuse.
Goz pushed Ruri through the wringer again and again, as if he truly intended to kill her. It was such an atrocity that even those who had initially despised Ruri began to feel a flicker of sympathy. She endured absurdities that would have broken seasoned veterans, all while trapped in the body of a young girl.
Naturally, a deep-seated fear of Goz took root in Ruri’s heart. The mere thought of seeing his face upon waking moved her to tears, and there were nights she prayed that tomorrow would never come.
Yet, somehow, she did not give up.
She knew the unique pain that came with surrendering. The sense of responsibility she had cultivated while surviving in the gutters of society had transformed into the stubborn persistence of a warrior.
I will become a warrior for the sake of Silverwind, the father who took me in.
What does not kill me will make me stronger.
That determination eventually became her reality.
After being cruelly broken and remolded under Goz’s hand, Ruri became a true warrior. Having spent decades in an environment harsher than any other, she grew faster than any of the other Dragon Spawns, until eventually, her strength could no longer be ignored.
By the time fifty years had passed since she became a spawn, her name was put forward as a candidate for the personal guard. It was the position closest to Silverwind—the dragon she admired most.
However, Ruri did not welcome the prospect.
“Do you know why?”
“I don’t.”
“To join the personal guard, one must strike down a current member. But once you have become a member of the guard, choosing to surrender is a disgrace worse than dying in one's bed.”
In other words, she would have to engage in a duel to the death to take that spot. Even if the opponent yielded, they were expected to face death to wash away the shame. That was the tradition of the Silverwind Spawn.
“To everyone else, it would have been a glorious challenge. But not to me.”
To her, it wasn't a matter of a warrior’s honor; it was the act of killing family. For Ruri, who still held a deep, desperate attachment to the concept of family, the idea of killing one of her own was impossible to accept.
Ruri never said she would give up, knowing they would never accept such a "weak" excuse. Instead, she crossed the Great Barrier that held back the frost of the North. She unleashed the axe skills she had learned while hovering on the brink of death against giants several times her size.
She was, without a doubt, a magnificent warrior.
Her fear of Goz had effectively cauterized her fear of anything else, allowing Ruri to perform so brilliantly that she became known as the "Nightmare of the Frost Giant." Thanks to her achievements, Ruri’s name became synonymous with Special Task Force Silverwing, and her majesty and bellicose nature brought glory to the name of Silverwind.
That was her life, before and after she gained her surname.
After finishing her long story, she finally reached the core of what had happened.
“Today… I fell for a demon’s trick.”
“What kind of trick?”
“I heard the voice of… a younger brother I had long since forgotten.”
Her voice seemed to drift toward a distant place.
“That faint brother, whose name and face I could no longer recall… he pierced through my memories with vivid clarity.”
“Was it truly your brother?”
“If you are asking if it was real, then no. Its blood was green.”
“Then it must have been a monster.”
“Yes. Most likely…”
Was it magic? If it were, Ruri would have said she was hit by a spell. To Ruri’s eyes, it had looked exactly like her brother.
An attack that triggers the opponent’s trauma?
Whatever it was, it was designed to shatter the target’s psyche. Ferda wondered what would have happened if he had been the one subjected to such an attack.
“But did you not escape it?”
“I didn't escape… I was saved.”
Ruri bit her lower lip hard before forcing the name out.
“When I was helpless, Lord Goz came and saved me.”
Goz Silverwind.
She had been rescued by the very person she feared most. Ferda instinctively realized that Ruri was in this state because of Goz.
“If he hadn't come… I would have surely died.”
Ruri’s body trembled.
“Were you afraid because you almost died?”
“No. Death… doesn't mean much to me anymore.”
Since Ruri had entered the jaws of death countless times, she had become numb to the concept.
“Then, were you afraid that Goz would harm you?”
“I was afraid of Lord Goz… but even that is just a familiar sensation.”
“Then what is it that has broken you like this?”
What hurt more than the fear was…
“Lord Goz… told me that I was useless.”
The person she feared so much, a member of her family, had spat such cruel words at her.
“Those words… they’re still ringing in my ears.”
The person she feared most had spoken harshly, and it had wounded her deeply. Normally, Ferda might not have understood, but those words pierced his own heart. What she had experienced was something Ferda himself had recently endured.
Erembalt Rosnova.
Erembalt had pushed Ferda into the death trap of being the Archduchess’s fiancé and then abandoned him. Ferda knew full well he had been discarded. But then, that man who had abandoned him returned just to declare their separation once more.
He had already known, and he hadn't expected anything else. Yet, the pain was different from what he had anticipated. The pain of being abandoned a second time was even sharper than the first.
If Ferda couldn't handle it, how could Ruri be any different? She must be hurting even more. No matter how much she feared him, she must have considered Goz a member of her family. Deep down, she undoubtedly felt that way.
In Ferda’s eyes, she no longer looked like a powerful attendant, but just a young girl. Though she had lived longer and was stronger than him, what he saw before him was a sad child who had never been loved.
She has such a strong sense of responsibility.
By becoming an attendant of Valdrova, her relationship with Silverwind had soured. She had been abandoned then, and now she had been discarded by Goz once more.
He wondered if there was anything he could do for her.
Work harder.
Try not to think about it.
Move forward.
He knew such words were of no help at all. If the world could solve everything through effort or willpower alone, Ferda would surely have become a knight. So, he chose his words carefully.
If he were to encounter his younger self—the one who was Ruri’s age—what would he say?
Thinking that way, the answer came to him.
Ferda spoke to Ruri.
“Ruri.”
“…Yes.”
“It’s okay to cry.”
“…Pardon?”
Ruri looked at Ferda with eyes that asked what kind of nonsense he was talking about.
“Don't hold it back. You can pour your emotions out to me.”
“I’m not holding back. I…”
“There’s no need to lie.”
Ferda spoke gently, as if speaking to his own past.
“I know how much courage it took for you to say those words.”
“…”
“There is nothing more miserable than being unable to cry when you want to. The world won't collapse just because you cry once, so cry now.”
To burst into tears is to reveal and pour out the weakness one has harbored. As one becomes an adult, there are times when one cannot cry even if one wants to. They say you realize this when you grow up, but Ferda had learned it after losing his mother. When he realized the reality that the whole world was his enemy, there was no time to cry.
Ferda knew. Others might call it becoming stronger, but it was undoubtedly a form of dying. And as is the law of all things, once something is dead, it cannot be brought back to life.
“Are you afraid I will tell someone?”
“…”
“If you wish, I will step outside.”
Ferda moved to stand up. But as soon as he lifted himself from his seat, something stopped him. Ruri’s hand grabbed his sleeve.
Ruri’s eyes turned toward Ferda. Something seemed about to come out of her trembling lips. Instead, tears finally welled up in those cold, strong eyes.
Ruri buried her face in Ferda’s shoulder.
From that moment on, Ferda saw nothing. He heard nothing. He didn't even feel his shoulder becoming damp. The sobbing gradually grew louder, and Ruri finally poured out all her sorrow.
After that, Ferda found himself in a predicament. He didn't know what to do next. Even though he was the one who had urged her to let it out, he didn't know how to comfort a weeping girl.
Ferda’s hand hovered hesitantly. Out of a habit formed because of Mori, his hand kept moving toward Ruri’s head. Isabella had told him it was impolite to pat an elder’s head as praise, and Ruri had hated it too.
But if it’s for comfort rather than praise, wouldn't it be okay?
Ferda carefully placed his hand on her head. At that, Ruri pulled her face away from his shoulder.
He was certain he had stepped on a landmine. He expected her to pour out more words, but that wasn't it. She moved her head from Ferda’s shoulder to his chest and buried her face there.
And so, she cried again.
What was the meaning of this action? One thing was certain: holding her like this made it a bit easier to stroke her hair.
Ruri cried, and Ferda comforted her by stroking her hair. The sorrowful weeping that seemed like it would never end gradually subsided. Even the sound of sniffing disappeared, and silence fell.
“Ruri.”
“…”
“Ruri?”
There was no answer when he called. Leaning his ear toward the crown of her head, he heard the sound of rhythmic breathing. After crying her heart out, she had fallen asleep.
“…This is troublesome.”
He had told her she could cry, but he hadn't considered that she might fall asleep.
* * *
The war that had started so suddenly came to an end.
As soon as the siege was broken and the supply lines were restored, a procession of carriages moved busily, flooding into various parts of the Far East. They returned through the gates of the unfinished village along with numerous triumphant generals.
At the same time, festival supplies arrived from Halim and the Pascal Trading Company. Among the supplies from Halim was a letter personally written by Ahmed Hashim.
—Congratulations on the victory, brother!
It was short, but for that very reason, the sincerity was palpable.
Using the support from both places, Ferda held another festival. People whose minds and bodies were exhausted from the tension laughed, chatted, and sang to celebrate the victory.
The bards staying in the village began to sing, but the stories of knights they had heard to the point of boredom were gone. Instead, they began to tell the story of a dragon.
“The Lonely Mountain standing tall in the Land of Demons. Red scales and golden eyes! They said an evil dragon that took countless lives lived within!”
“The world overflowed with a sea of misunderstanding, and the truth was buried deep below! That truth has finally been revealed today!”
“When the filthy hordes of demons put us to the test, she ascended to the peak of the Lonely Mountain!”
“Spreading those red scales and majestic wings, she declared to the monsters of the Far East!”
“The one who protects this Hestia, the one who protects this Serdes Continent, is none other than I, Valdrova!”
In fact, that hymn was the most popular. After all, weren't they the ones who had seen Valdrova’s form more closely than anyone else during the subjugation?
Popularity leads to money, and for bards in need of coin, it becomes a trend. Other bards followed suit and created their own hymns, and within just a few days, dozens of versions had been poured out.
Ferda ordered Isabella to provide travel expenses to those bards. Bards were wanderers, and in small villages, they were the source of news for the Serdes Continent. If they sang the song of Valdrova elsewhere, it would be effective in cleansing her infamy.
The festival continued intensely, reflecting how much they had been suppressed, and showed no signs of ending even as the night deepened.
However, Ferda did not enjoy the festivities. He knew that the war was not yet over.
“You must keep your wits about you from now on.”
Olivia spoke like someone who had witnessed an even greater evil. Ferda and Olivia were in the middle of a meeting to settle accounts after the war. She said that they had merely passed one crisis, and now it was time for a new one to be created.
“The Emperor has moved.”
“You mean Godfrey Arken?”
“Yes. The man who shared his blood with me.”
She refused to call him her father to the very end.
“Did the Emperor move personally?”
“He didn't move personally, but he surely provided the means to that incompetent Crown Prince.”
The original plan was to deal with all twelve super-sized monsters. However, four of them were intercepted by forces from the outside.
One was the Lightning Dragon Storeus. Two were handled by the spawn of Silverwind.
“The last one was said to be a human who intruded from the Far East Union side… but their identity is unclear.”
“A human?”
“Yes. They say that one person was strong enough to turn the tide of the battle.”
If one person could turn the tide, how strong must they be?
It must be the Armored Knight.
He had vanished suddenly before the Start of Spring Festival and joined the army while trying to return. That would make sense.
“Excluding the one unclear case, it means we lost four. Will that be a problem?”
“Our goal was a complete victory for the Far East. But in that complete victory, four were blocked through the intervention of the Imperial Capital. If it isn't complete, it loses its value.”
Ferda fell silent and thought about who would be hit hardest by that loss of value. The answer came quickly. Was she not right in front of him?
Because she intended to use this as a political foothold.
The Empire’s political scene was already a place where those who had always held power continued to do so. If someone tried to do something for even a slightly ambiguous reason, it was certain they would be hounded relentlessly.
“Now they will make their move. It would be best for you to prepare sufficient countermeasures.”
Olivia advised him so. He wondered if she was being overly dramatic, but surprisingly, she wasn't.
The very next morning, Ferda could see it with his own eyes.
Stepping onto the ground where the madness of last night still lingered, there were those entering the village.
The knights of the Empire had arrived.