Chapter 49: White House
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 49: White House
Central Serdes.
A lone castle rose from the heart of a vast, level plain.
The land was open and fertile, perfect for farming, yet it remained nothing but a sprawling, emerald meadow. There were no signs of human life, nor any other living creatures nearby. It looked like an island adrift on a verdant sea.
This was the domain of Blancaros and the site of the Grand Council, where the affairs of the entire continent were decided.
It was commonly known as the White House.
Ferda had arrived.
‘Is it just ahead?’
Ferda looked up at the castle gates.
The gates stood wide open. To the naked eye of an ordinary person, that was all there was to see, but those accustomed to mana, like Ferda, could see much more. In front of the gates, a translucent white veil stretched out in a circular dome, acting as a barrier.
Order and Domain.
As long as those two conditions were met, no one could defy Blancaros within his territory. Not even a god.
“You may put your mind at ease.”
A young man’s voice drifted from beyond the gates. Turning toward the sound, Ferda saw a man standing there.
“Lord Blancaros is generous to those who observe the rules and maintain order.”
Ferda scanned the man’s appearance. He wore snow-white clothes and possessed skin as pale as a vampire’s. Had it not been for the pair of horns and his eyes, the resemblance would have been striking.
The man placed a hand over his heart and bowed.
“Forgive my late introduction. I am Hand of Blancaros. I have been assigned to guide you, Lord Ferda.”
As expected, he was a Dragon Spawn of Blancaros.
Blancaros had three spawns in total: the Hand, the Mouth, and the Eye. As their names suggested, each specialized in a specific function. Unlike other Dragon Spawns, they were known for their impeccable politeness.
“Please, come inside. I shall lead the way.”
Furthermore, they were bound to the domain, unable to leave Blancaros’s territory.
“Understood.”
Ferda reached out and stepped into the domain.
In that instant, he felt a sensation like microscopic particles burrowing into his skin. Soon, he noticed an abnormality in the movement of the circles within his Dantian. They were slowing down.
However, it wasn't a jarring obstruction, like a physical object caught in gears; it felt natural, as if Ferda were relaxing his own strength of his own volition.
‘Truly remarkable.’
An absolute domain.
Because this absolute power applied even to the caster himself, it was incomparably delicate and robust. Yet, this suppression did not lead to total neutralization. The message it sent was clear:
Try to harm me if you can.
But Blancaros’s gavel would not be avoided. One would be struck down without a shred of room for excuse. That was the point being emphasized.
‘I should still be able to move a Shadow Hand, at least.’
The concentration required to manifest a magic circle was being interfered with, but it didn't matter if he didn't have to create one from scratch. He had mastered the Shape of Shadow specifically for situations like this.
Ferda glanced back. Jed and Arwen, who were following him, also looked uncomfortable.
“How does it feel to step into the domain?”
“Not great. It’s like… a sense of helplessness? My eyes feel a bit stiff, too,” Jed muttered.
“I feel the same,” Arwen added. “It’s as if the strength is draining out of me. I don't think I can manifest my Aura…”
The knight couldn't use his Aura, and Jed’s unique abilities as a member of the Red Eye Tribe were being suppressed.
“Ruri, what about you?”
“No issues.”
“Is that so?”
The conversation ended abruptly. However, to anyone watching the two of them, something would have seemed quite strange. Arwen leaned slightly toward Jed and whispered.
“Hey, did something happen between the Spawn lady and the Regent?”
“I don't know. I’ve decided not to pay attention to that.”
When dragons clash, it’s the humans who get caught in the middle. Having experienced it once already, Jed shuddered at the thought.
“There are five hours remaining until the start of the meeting,” the Hand said. “Would you like to go to your quarters? Or perhaps the banquet hall?”
“What is the difference?”
“Rest, or social interaction. Many guests have already gathered in the banquet hall.”
“Shouldn't we obviously go to the banquet hall?”
Jed’s eyes sparkled with unusual intensity. When Ferda gave him a look of pathetic disdain, Jed hurried to make an excuse.
“Think about it. They say if you know your enemy and know yourself, you will never be defeated. Wouldn't it be better to scout out the opposition in advance?”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“Then why did you look at me like that?”
“Because that’s not why you want to go.”
Jed glared at him as if offended, but he didn't dare deny it.
“Lead us to the banquet hall.”
“As you wish.”
Hand of Blancaros began to lead the way. Before following, Ferda patted Jed on the shoulder.
“Enjoy the banquet to your heart’s content.”
“Huh? Oh, right. Thank you.”
As they walked, those words stuck in Jed’s mind. He turned them over and over.
‘No way.’
Surely not. But it was possible. If it was Ferda, he just might. Driven by a sudden suspicion, Jed leaned in and whispered to Ferda.
“You’re not… planning to use this banquet to write off your own investiture banquet, are you?”
“…”
“You’re… not, right?”
Ferda did not say no.
* * *
The White House Banquet Hall.
With only five hours left until the meeting, many nobles had already gathered. Had there not been a limit on the number of companions allowed for each representative, the hall would have been bursting at the seams.
The massive white doors slid open, and the sounds of laughter and music spilled out.
“Ho.”
It was his first time stepping into the Grand Council. The sight made even the unsentimental Ferda let out a soft exclamation of admiration. He had thought the buildings of the Empire were grand, but in the end, they were man-made. A structure crafted by a Dragon provided a shock of a completely different dimension.
Inside, people accustomed to this atmosphere were laughing and chatting. It wasn't just humans. Great Chieftains of the Elves, Dwarves, and Gnomes—races that rarely mingled with human society—were also in attendance.
“Whoa…”
The one who couldn't hold back his awe was Arwen. Seeing this, Jed smirked playfully.
“Is this your first party, Sir Knight?”
“No, I’ve been to plenty of parties on official business with the Count.”
“Then stop making that face like a country bumpkin. It’s too obvious.”
“Ah, right, I’ll… stop.”
At Jed’s warning, Arwen sheepishly conceded and kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, though his awkwardness remained.
‘Consilus was right.’
He was a man who needed experience. Unlike the provincial Arwen, Jed and Ruri were not swept away by the atmosphere. Jed was far too used to high society, and Ruri was simply herself.
As for the emotion Ferda felt beneath this splendor…
‘It feels like walking into a den of vipers.’
It was unpleasant. This was on a completely different level from the power struggles with local lords. From the moment he locked eyes with them, it felt like a battle. Even friendly eyes were constantly scanning him, searching for a weakness. Everything, from a simple greeting to the way they turned away, felt like an appraisal.
‘I suppose that’s why they are high nobles and kings.’
They possessed power. The power to hold their ground. The power to climb to the positions they desired. The power to drag down those already there.
What does one do when surrounded by such people?
It was a simple question. Ferda merely straightened his back and walked forward with confidence. He met their eyes one by one, reading the flow of the room. Even in a social circle where everyone supposedly mingled, people naturally gravitated toward their own factions.
Ferda thought to himself: If I were to join a side, where should I go?
As he pondered this, someone caught his eye.
“Haha, you’ve arrived! Regent of Valdrova!”
Among a crowd of people stood a man and several women dressed in exceptionally flamboyant attire. They were beckoning Ferda over from the very center of the group. On the man’s shoulder was the crest of the Arken Empire.
‘Alexander Arken.’
The 1st Imperial Prince of the Arken Empire.
* * *
The incompetent Emperor, Godfrey Arken.
The 1st Prince, Alexander Arken, and the 2nd Prince, Ureas Arken, had struggled desperately to drag him from his throne. They had called it a historic moment for the Empire’s new leap forward.
But the result was disastrous. Godfrey remained secure, and his two sons became laughingstocks.
‘Two sons so incompetent they couldn't even dethrone an incompetent Emperor.’
Public perception had shifted to the point where Godfrey looked like an angel in comparison, only further solidifying the Emperor’s position. To Ferda, who desired the Empire’s destruction, those two were nothing but useless fools.
“Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Alexander Arken.”
The eldest son, Alexander Arken. A middle-aged man in his thirties, he wore a neatly groomed beard and dressed as if to proclaim to the world that he was already the Emperor.
“Ferda Valdrova. It is an honor to meet the 1st Imperial Prince.”
“I apologize for not replying to your previous letter. I was so busy with official duties that day I barely had time to blink.”
Bullshit.
As Ferda thought this, a woman standing beside the prince chimed in.
“Haha! The Prince has a hundred million subjects to look after; even two bodies wouldn't be enough!”
Unlike the golden-clad Prince, she was dressed in brilliant blue. Her youthful appearance and boisterous laughter seemed almost insolent, yet even Alexander didn't dare cross her. Despite her looks, her age was well over three digits.
“Who is this handsome man? Won't you introduce me, Prince?”
“Ah, of course! My apologies! Allow me to introduce you. This is Lady Erdes Roton, President of the Serdes Magic Society.”
Erdes Roton.
Roton. Once the greatest family of alchemists, and later, the worst family of swindlers. Erdes was the last of that bloodline. She had no territory, no title. All she had was the 7th Circle. Under that name, every mage in human society was managed and controlled by her hand.
No. They had to be controlled. She was a woman who couldn't be satisfied otherwise.
“I am Ferda Valdrova. It is truly an honor to meet the great Archmage.”
“Haha! I wanted to see the Archduchess’s face, but I suppose I’ll have to settle for seeing her fiancé first.”
“I heard it would be difficult for her to attend this gathering.”
“Of course, I know. This is a place for mortals, not immortals.”
She smiled. It was a reflexive smile rather than one born of genuine joy. Her eyes fixed intently on Ferda.
“Regent of Valdrova—no, I’ll just call you Regent Ferda. I’m not quite used to mentioning the name Valdrova itself. Is that alright?”
“Please, do as you wish.”
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“From a family of mages?”
“No. I was the third son of a knightly family, the Rosnovas.”
Her eyes widened like full moons.
“Hmm, how surprising! I’ve heard that knights practice mana cultivation, but I understood it was merely a secondary pursuit. And yet, I sense the aura of a mage from your body?”
“I have trained as a mage.”
“Oh, really? You’ve achieved quite a lot at such a young age, haven't you? Haha!”
Her tongue moved incessantly alongside her boisterous laughter.
“I heard from the Prince. You played a big part in catching some rats in the Empire recently?”
“Rats?”
“Black mages.”
He remembered. She was referring to the group of black mages hiding in the underground sewers. In reality, he had only removed them because they would have been an obstacle to his plan to bring down the Empire.
Ferda didn't lie.
“I merely contributed a small part to a larger picture.”
“Don't be too modest. That’s not the end of your achievements, is it? You also handled the Thesalos Wolcher matter.”
This was referring to what happened when all the lords were gathered before the engagement ceremony. A man he hadn't intended to kill, but had to.
“I heard that wretched bastard was researching black magic?”
“That is correct.”
“It was impressive. According to the records, he was just a talentless mage, but they say he mutated into a Red Circle after being consumed by rage. He must have made some progress after that.”
Erdes leaned forward.
“Since he fell into black magic, that is.”
The wine in the glass she held swirled slightly.
“Do you know something? I absolutely loathe black mages.”
It was a well-known fact that she detested them. Her principle was zero tolerance for anyone who practiced black magic. She would strip them of their qualifications and shatter their circles, ensuring they could never live as mages again.
“I hate them so much that if I even breathe the same air in the same room, I feel like strangling myself.”
“Is that so?”
“Those talentless hacks sell their souls to demons and call it 'effort.' They don't even realize they’ll end up as puppets worse than dogs, less than the ghosts wandering the underworld.”
Her narrowed eyes glowed with a cold blue light.
“What about you, Lord Ferda? What do you think of those who practice black magic, hmm?”
What he felt from her eyes was vivid, raw loathing. It was the look she reserved for black mages.
“Specifically, what do you think would happen if someone were to inherit and continue the practice of necromancy using monsters?”
That hatred was now directed at Ferda. The meaning was clear.
I know who you are.
She knew he possessed a Red Circle. She knew he had practiced black magic. That was why she was looking at him with such loathing now. As the strongest mage of humanity, her hatred was something to be feared.
‘But do you know this as well?’
That your very hatred has strangled you. That you have fallen into the grave you dug with your own prejudice.
And that the one who pushed you into it…
Was none other than me.