Chapter 47: Dragon's Countenance
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 47: Dragon's Countenance
The Dragoon Armor shimmered under the moonlight.
Standing two meters tall, the suit was adorned with menacing ornaments designed to overawe any opponent. Yet, having seen that armor more often than her actual face, Ferda felt it was an extension of Valdrova herself—something he could love as dearly as the woman within.
He had often hoped to run into her, even in this form, but the reality was different than he had imagined. Rather than joy, he felt a sense of bewilderment.
Had I finally gone mad with longing? Am I seeing hallucinations?
Just as the thought crossed his mind, she came to a halt in front of him.
“……”
“……”
Silence stretched between them as they stared at one another. After a long stillness, it was Valdrova who finally broke the quiet.
“So, that is, um, well…”
She squeezed the words out as if painstakingly picking pearls from a bed of sand.
“I came out… because I wanted to… take a walk.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, of course it is!”
Ferda knew it was a lie. However, that didn't particularly matter to him.
Valdrova replied and then began to fidget, her hands neatly clasped.
Clink, clank.
The steel of her gauntlets ground together, creating a sharp metallic din. She seemed restless. Was she uncomfortable because they had crossed paths so suddenly?
Eventually, she spoke again, her voice rising.
“A-actually, that’s not it!”
“Pardon?”
“I knew… that you were coming out, Ferda… so I came out too!”
“Is that… so?”
“Yes.”
She let out a heavy sigh of relief, her shoulders slumping. It was as if she had just confessed a sin she’d been harboring in her heart.
Ferda didn't mind. She had sought him out, knowing he would be alone in the hallway. That was all that mattered. It meant she had come here because she wanted to see him.
‘She wanted to meet me.’
Now that he was conscious of it, he felt a strange flutter of nerves. Had he brushed his teeth? Did his clothes smell? He had been relying on a single candle in that secret room; the scent of smoke might have clung to his hair.
But those worries were fleeting. Belatedly remembering his manners, Ferda bowed his head.
“I greet the Archduchess of Valdrova.”
“Ah, yes, welcome, um… Ferda… Ferda…”
She trailed off as she called his name. The blurred end of her sentence, perhaps due to the voice modulator built into the helmet, echoed like a mournful cry.
“Did you wish to call me Regent?”
“Ah, yes, that! Regent!”
She clapped her hands, her voice brightening instantly.
“Yes. Regent Ferda. I really wanted to try using that title. That’s what they call a king’s fiancé, isn’t it?”
“Actually, that’s… no, yes, you are correct.”
He stopped himself from correcting her. If he kept touching that sparkling innocence, it would only be stained.
“Then, may I call you Regent from now on?”
“There is no need for that. It is a term used only in official settings. When we are alone, please feel free to call me Ferda.”
“Ah, I shall do so, Ferda.”
Ferda, Ferda…
Inside the helmet, Valdrova repeated his name several times as if practicing a spell. It felt as though she were whispering directly into his ear, making his skin itch with warmth.
“I wanted to see you again, Ferda, but strangely… I couldn't find the courage.”
“I understand,” Ferda replied softly, empathizing with her.
Was it because her feelings for him were also growing?
“Um… the reason I came like this was because of Ruri.”
Apparently, that wasn't it.
“Ruri?”
Valdrova nodded. “Ruri seems to have been struggling a lot lately.”
Ferda recalled rejecting Ruri’s request to attend the council. The last time he saw her face, she had looked livid.
“I don’t consider myself particularly good at reading emotions, but I know what her face looks like when she’s sad. That child… she is definitely sad right now.”
Her helmet turned toward Ferda.
“I thought that if anyone knew why she was having a hard time… it might be you, Ferda…”
Ferda’s lips parted, but no words came out. It was difficult to speak. How could he tell her when he knew he was the cause? Would she hate him if he told her the truth?
Yet, in the end, he gave her the truth.
“That change is likely my fault.”
“Your fault, Ferda?”
“Ruri asked me to let her attend the Grand Council, but I refused. That is the only reason I am aware of.”
“Why would she… want to go there?”
“She said she wanted to speak with the Silverwind side.”
Valdrova’s body flinched. However, she soon nodded lightly as if she understood.
“If it’s just for a conversation… couldn't you take her with you?”
“Because it is a vain hope.”
“A vain hope?”
“What that attendant is trying to do is no different from scratching at a scab. If you scratch a part that hasn't healed, the flesh tears again and the wound opens up. It is exactly like that.”
“Ah, that… that hurts a lot.”
“Yes, it hurts a lot.”
Valdrova nodded slightly in agreement, wrapping her arms around herself.
“But that vain hope… might it not be so vain after all?” she asked, her voice trailing off with a hesitant note of uncertainty.
“Silverwind still harbors a grudge.”
“I know that too. But… it might be different for Ruri, don't you think?”
“Do you believe things will be resolved just by talking?”
“At least she would have a place to return to.”
“Return?”
At Ferda’s question, she seemed to realize her slip and spoke solemnly.
“Ah, I suppose you wouldn't know, Ferda. That child isn't my spawn; she is the Silver Dragon’s spawn.”
“Ah…”
“She has been so loyal to me that it’s easy to misunderstand.”
“I see…”
He had known that from the beginning. Ferda was only surprised by the mention of her "returning."
“Dragon Spawn are family, bound by blood. To Ruri, her family is the Silverwind Spawn.”
“Are you saying Ruri should return to the bosom of her family?”
“Is there anything more precious than family?”
A precious family. It was a concept far removed from Ferda. He had been tormented by his family and ultimately abandoned by them. The root of Ferda’s desire for revenge was his family, and he had eventually paid them back for everything they had done to him. Now that those emotions had been settled, he simply didn't care anymore.
But what about Ruri?
Ferda didn't know what Ruri thought. She cherished Valdrova, but that might be insignificant compared to the bloodline that connected her to Silverwind. This might be her way of trying to sever her ties with Valdrova. Since she hadn't appeared until the future Ferda tore out Valdrova’s heart, that might indeed be the case.
“Ruri might wish for that, but…” Ferda looked up at Valdrova and asked, “Is that what you wish for?”
Instead of answering immediately, she turned her head toward the sky. Her hand resting on the railing curled into a small fist. It wasn't an easy thing for her.
“I am the one who kept her tied here. If there is a way for her to go back… I must let her go.”
“…….”
“And…” Valdrova looked down at Ferda. “Don’t I have a proper fiancé now?”
An indescribable tightness gripped Ferda’s chest. It made him question a matter that had already been decided. Was it really okay to take Ruri to the Grand Council?
Finally, Ferda made his decision. “I understand.”
“Will you take Ruri with you?”
“Yes. Since you have asked, how could I refuse?”
“Ah, yes, thank you.”
She nodded, looking a bit dazed. With that topic concluded, a heavy silence threatened to settle in once more.
“The Grand Council…” Valdrova cautiously kicked that silence away. “I’ve always heard that it’s held, but I never even knew what happened there.”
“Are you curious?”
“I’m very curious! It’s a place where all races gather to talk for the peace of this continent, isn't it? I can't help but wonder what kind of stories are shared in such a place!”
Valdrova’s helmet snapped around to look at Ferda. Though hidden by the steel, he could tell what she was anticipating. She was like a child listening to the tale of heroes gathering under the light to defeat the darkness. She was like a field of pristine snow piled high in the dead of winter.
It was a dazzling purity.
“The stories might not be pleasant to hear.”
“Wh-why is that?” Her voice was tinged with bewilderment.
Ferda realized he had made a mistake, but the milk was already spilled. It was too late to stay silent or make excuses. So, he told her the truth as he knew it.
“They are not the kind of people who tell such convenient stories. They are merely busy looking out for their own interests.”
“Is that how it is?”
“Yes. So please, do not get your hopes up too high,” he finished with difficulty.
Valdrova looked down at him silently. What kind of expression was she making? Was she staring blankly with her mouth agape in shock? Or was she overcome with emotion and shedding tears?
“Ferda…”
The response that came back was the calm, dry voice of a woman.
“Do you know what it was like when Godwin rose up to destroy this world?”
There was no way he could know. It was an event that happened 150 years ago, an era even Ferda’s grandfather hadn't lived through.
“When Godwin plunged the world into chaos, the first ones to give up were us.”
“The dragons?”
Valdrova nodded. To Ferda, it was a story that didn't evoke much emotion. But if a scholar from Escoleia had heard this, the academic world would have been turned upside down.
Valdrova seemed to realize her slip and covered her mouth. She glanced around nervously and then whispered cautiously.
“Everything I’m telling you now is a secret, okay?”
“I will take it to my grave.”
“Anyway… in that era, the conclusion was that compromising with chaos was the most ideal solution. Even the long-lived races like the dwarves and elves were in a mood to accept that compromise.”
But they hadn't. If that compromise had been made, the East wouldn't have become a land that spewed filth while being driven into a corner.
“But only one race refused.”
This was a part Ferda knew as well.
“The humans were the first to rise.”
She clasped her hands together and held them to her chest.
“Because they did not compromise, because their swords did not forgive the darkness, they realized there was still hope for the continent. And because of that, peace returned to this land.”
Ferda understood in his heart what Valdrova was thinking. It was respect.
Dragons and humans. Long-lived races and short-lived races. Immortals and mortals. Humans might respect and revere dragons, but it was unheard of for a dragon to respect humans.
Yet, Valdrova was different.
“Even if they are blinded by greed now, in the most critical moment, they will fight against the darkness. So…”
Valdrova’s head tilted slightly as she looked down at Ferda. The red armor, bathed in moonlight, shone with true nobility.
“I will love them.”
It was then. A chemical reaction sparked in his mind, leading Ferda into uncharted territory. Through the helmet crafted in the image of a dragon’s head, he began to see the delicate woman hidden within.
Hope dwelt in her eyes. And that hope was wearing a smile.
“Ah.”
Ferda let out a foolish exclamation. It felt as if he were soaring high in the sky only to be plunged downward. The impact of falling from the infinite heavens was immeasurable.
“Ferda?”
“…….”
“Are you alright? You’re not saying anything…”
Valdrova hovered anxiously, checking Ferda’s complexion. Ferda, who had been staring at her intently, finally spoke.
“Just once.”
“Pardon?”
“Could you show me that Dragon's Countenance just once more?”
“The—the Dragon's Countenance? Uh, are you talking about my face…?”
“Yes. Your face.”
Ferda’s hand instinctively reached toward Valdrova’s helmet. Valdrova jumped back in surprise, guarding her helmet.
“N-no! I, uh, I can't show you my face yet!”
“I beg of you. Please, show me that Dragon's Countenance just once more…”
“I—I told you, I can't! Don't come any closer!”
As he took a step forward, she took a step back. The one who broke the chain of what seemed like an eternal pursuit was Valdrova.
“I’m sorry!”
With her apology, she vanished into the darkness. All that remained was the warmth where she had stood.
Intoxicated by that warmth, Ferda—his face flushed as if with fever—stared blankly at the spot where he had last seen her. A breeze blew in through the open window, but it was woefully insufficient to cool Ferda’s heat.
He looked up at the moon again. A full moon. But in his burning heart, there was no room for thoughts of his mother to squeeze in.
However, unlike before, there was nothing to worry about. The emotion nestled in Ferda’s chest was swirling a vibrant, passionate red.