Chapter 67: The Second Tea Party
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 67: The Second Tea Party
Ferda took a moment to observe the state of Valdrova Castle.
He had been away for a full month and wondered if anything had gone awry in his absence, but everything seemed to be flowing smoothly.
His first stop was Burnell’s laboratory.
Burnell’s theories, once nearly impossible to decipher, were gradually being refined into something intelligible. This progress was the result of fifteen assistants working tirelessly under him.
‘Though the greatest hurdle is still far off.’
His biggest challenge was, as expected, Malcolm.
“Mr. Malcolm, could you please put this into the right inlet?”
“The right side, you say?! Understood!”
“No, the right! The hand you eat with! No, not there! Argh!”
To those who had spent their lives competing with geniuses, Malcolm was nothing short of a disaster.
The moment they used even a slightly difficult word, a metaphorical question mark appeared over his head. He was the greatest dimwit in history—someone who confused north, south, east, and west, and even struggled to tell his left from his right.
To think they had to make a fool understand concepts that even geniuses struggled to grasp.
Burnell had torn at his hair so much that his once-thick mane had thinned to the point where his scalp was visible. Meanwhile, Malcolm, the source of all this grief, looked as bright and carefree as a dog out for a walk.
‘Ultimately, Magitech is meant for humans, not mages.’
If a man like Malcolm could at least grasp the purpose and operate the devices—even if he couldn't apply the theories—then ordinary people would be able to use them as well. That was the ultimate goal Ferda envisioned.
‘Anyway, things seem to be going well here.’
As he passed by the scene of people clutching their heads in frustration, Ferda heard a shrill voice echoing from a corner of the hallway.
“Hyaaaah?!”
He recognized that exaggerated voice instantly. It was the demon, Penelope.
“What is this witch doing here?! Why is a witch roaming freely through a dragon’s castle?!”
The "witch" she was referring to was undoubtedly Echidna.
“Hehehehe, if a demon can wander about, why can’t a witch?”
Ferda wondered why the two were entangled, but the reason soon became clear.
“Um, Miss Echidna? Could you please calm down and listen to me?”
It was because of Jed.
As Ferda drew closer, the situation became undeniable. Penelope was clinging to Jed’s leg, Jed was at a total loss, and Echidna was pointing a knife at him.
Echidna’s eyes were glazed over.
“Ah, Mr. Jed. Do not worry. I won’t harm you. I’m simply going to perform the Contract Separation Technique.”
“Contract Separation Technique?”
“Yes. It’s a method to avoid the curse by severing the part where the mark was engraved and granting it new life. Then, your body will be as clean as it was before, Mr. Jed.”
“...Doesn’t that mean you’re going to cut off my arm?”
“And you’ll have to live in agonizing pain every day. But that level of pain is nothing!”
Jed, pushed to his limit by the absurdity, finally spoke his mind.
“Are you insane?!”
“It’s okay! Even if you only have one arm, I will love you forever!”
“Well, I happen to love my arm!”
“We shall overcome! With our love!”
A different kind of chaos was unfolding here. Ferda could easily deduce the cause just by listening.
‘It’s because of the covenant he made with Penelope.’
On the day of the rescue, Ferda had forced Penelope and Jed into a contract. It was to prevent Penelope’s body from returning to Hell and to monitor her movements at the same time. He had also placed a firm gag order on her, ensuring she could never speak of Sitri’s Life Vessel without his permission.
Though she was essentially on a leash, it was an excellent deal for Penelope. Wasn't it safer to hide in a dragon’s nest than to live as a fugitive hunted across the land?
‘Is it... good for Jed, too?’
Jed was the type of man who reflexively hit on any woman he saw. Since Penelope was technically a woman, Ferda figured it might be fine.
Ferda hadn't explained Penelope’s exact purpose to Jed. It was enough for him to know that she was a daughter Sitri cherished deeply.
While Jed was caught between the demon and the witch, his eyes met Ferda’s.
Jed’s gaze screamed: Save me.
They say a real man speaks with his back.
Ferda, like a true man, turned his back on him.
Deal with it yourself.
‘At any rate, things are running without issue.’
Life went on, with no one knowing what he had been up to while he was away from the castle.
“Lord Ferda.”
Ruri, the petite girl in a maid uniform, approached him as usual.
“Everything is prepared.”
“I see.”
Ferda unnecessarily adjusted his tie. Black hands reached out from his clothes to straighten his attire once more.
He had risked dealing with a demon to gain information. He had killed the one who threatened Ruri to ensure she wouldn't be taken away. Two situations that could have jeopardized the nation's survival had befallen him.
Yet, even combining all those moments, none were as nerve-wracking as this. He felt like a child hiding a wet bedsheet in the wardrobe—concealing a secret that would eventually be found out, even if it remained hidden for now.
That anxiety vanished the moment the doors to the parlor opened.
Before him was a wide-open balcony and a tea table. And the incongruous Dragoon Armor.
‘Again today, I see.’
Having seen it twice already, it wasn't particularly surprising. She sat there silently, looking toward him. The helmet, modeled after Valdrova’s Dragon’s Countenance, exerted an overwhelming pressure on whoever faced it.
‘Why is she just staring?’
Ferda began to walk forward. He found himself imagining what kind of expression lay behind that helmet.
But before he could reach a worst-case scenario, he realized the truth.
“Zzz...”
She was asleep.
Valdrova’s head tilted forward. Just as it seemed her head would slam into the table, it jerked back into place.
“Mumble... mm... hm?”
The helmet, which had been still, lifted and turned toward Ferda.
“Mm... Mr. Ferda...?”
Her voice echoed faintly. She stared blankly at him for a moment.
“Wait?! Mr. Ferda?!”
She scrambled to her feet, greeting him in a panic.
“Y-y-you’re here?!”
“Yes. I greet the Archduchess of Valdrova.”
“W-welcome back, Mr. Ferda. I was just, well...”
Valdrova couldn't think of a proper excuse. Ferda helped her out.
“It seems you had much on your mind. You appeared to be lost in deep thought.”
“Pardon? Oh, actually, I was just dozing off...”
“Usually, when a monarch wakes up from a nap, it is polite to say such things.”
“Ah, I-I see. You’re right. I was, uh, thinking. Yes!”
She nodded repeatedly, seemingly pleased to have found a good justification. She was a woman who was terrible at lying.
“Are you alright, Mr. Ferda?”
“Yes.”
“I heard there was a problem with your carriage. And that you stopped at Count Consilus’s estate...”
Ferda glanced at Ruri. Standing like a folding screen in the background, she gave a slight nod. Ferda confirmed it.
“Yes, that is correct.”
“You weren't hurt, were you?”
“It wasn't a major issue. It was something that could be fixed with light maintenance.”
“That’s a relief. I was a little worried.”
She looked genuinely relieved. That reaction was exactly why his secret needed to remain one.
“What was discussed at the Grand Council?”
Ferda recounted the events of the Grand Council, sticking to simple stories of territorial disputes.
“I see. On the Serdes Continent... well, I have heard that wars break out from time to time.”
Territorial disputes between Elves and Dwarves.
“Are they still fighting? I feel like they were doing that a long time ago as well...”
Most of the stories were like that—conflict and anger. There were no stories that would bring a smile to one's face.
Yet, Valdrova listened intently. That was what made it frightening. He feared he might get swept up in her innocence and make a mistake. It wasn't easy to step with muddy feet onto such a pristine field of snow.
“And...”
He reached the end of his report.
“We discussed the Eastern Conquest.”
“The Eastern Conquest?”
“I declared that we would conquer the Land of Demons on our border.”
“Ah.”
The Land of Demons. At those words, Valdrova, who had been nodding along, fell silent. She began to fidget with her arm. Her gaze drifted toward the balcony.
The view was of early autumn, where the colors were changing most vibrantly. It was the scenery typical for the people of the Serdes Continent.
“The place now called the Land of Demons...”
Her voice was tinged with distant memories.
“...once had beautiful scenery like that as well.”
Her voice held complex emotions.
“It’s a place stained black now, but it can regain those beautiful colors again, right?”
Of course. He could have ended it with those simple words, but Ferda couldn't bring himself to do so.
“It won't be easy.”
Ferda didn't offer empty certainties.
“However, I will do whatever it takes to reclaim the scenery you once saw.”
Instead, he showed her his resolve.
“Is that so?”
Valdrova brightened at his words.
“If there is anything I can do to help, I will do my best.”
She clenched her fist.
“I can't just sit around playing while my fiancé is working so hard.”
“If Your Highness lends a hand, it would be the greatest honor for me.”
Looking at her, Ferda felt his heart grow calm. To be able to accept something exactly as it was, without needing to read deeply into hidden motives—this was true purity.
“Um... is there anything else?”
“There is nothing else.”
“Ah, I see...”
Valdrova’s voice trailed off, lacking confidence.
What was it? What kind of story was she expecting? Ferda brought the cooling tea to his lips.
“Well, Ruri told me...”
“Yes.”
“That you held hands with a woman named Olivia.”
“Pfft!”
Ferda choked, spraying a magnificent fountain of tea. Valdrova was more flustered than Ferda, who had just spat his drink.
“Mr. Ferda?! Are you alright?!”
“Yes, I am fine.”
“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to startle you... I just wanted to talk...”
Ferda wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and looked away. His eyes met Ruri’s, who was still standing there like a statue.
You actually told her? When he glared at her with that question in his eyes, Ruri looked away. It would be a lie to say he didn't feel a sense of resentment.
A headache came on instantly. What could he say to get out of this situation?
That she grabbed his hand first? That they held hands, but it didn't mean much? Dozens of excuses flashed through his mind, but Ferda immediately discarded them.
“I apologize. To hold another woman’s hand while I have Your Highness...”
“No, betrayal? I don't mind things like that!”
She waved her hands dismissively.
“You are a man, Mr. Ferda... and I heard she is very beautiful, so, yes, I think it’s possible.”
She murmured as if she understood, but her fidgeting fingers and lowered head said otherwise. Guilt began to weigh heavily on Ferda’s heart.
“So, what I mean is...”
Her eyes looked up at him cautiously.
“Perhaps...”
She tilted her head slightly and asked him.
“Perhaps... do you want to hold my hand as well?”
Ferda’s head throbbed.
“...Pardon?”
He asked blankly.
“Your Highness’s... hand?”
“Yes. We held hands once before... and I think I can manage that much...”
Though my face is still too much. She mumbled the rest to herself and waited for his answer.
“W-what do you think?”
Unlike her lighthearted tone, Ferda was more serious than ever. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He couldn't let it slip away. He struggled to calm his trembling, swallowed to clear his throat, and spoke in his most rational voice.
“I... would like to.”
“I see. Just a moment.”
She removed her gauntlet. In contrast to the large armor, a small, slender hand was revealed to Ferda. It was a delicate arm that didn't seem to possess the Aspect of Power. When she shyly curled it into a fist, it looked even smaller.
“H-here it is!”
She held it out, palm up. Ferda stared down at it as if entranced. Her slender fingers and the lines on her palm were like a painting. Ferda carefully moved his hand toward her palm—.
“Hic?!”
Valdrova’s hand jerked away. He didn't even have time to feel its softness.
“What is the matter?”
“No, it’s just... well... I’m afraid I won't be able to control my strength... I need a moment to prepare myself...”
Her voice trailed off, and he could hear her heavy breathing from inside the helmet. His heart sank for a moment, thinking she had changed her mind. She placed her mismatched hands over her chest and caught her breath.
Since her nervousness showed no signs of fading, Ferda made a suggestion.
“If controlling your strength is difficult, how about I place my hand on top of yours?”
“Oh! That’s a good idea! Let’s... do that.”
Valdrova gently placed the back of her hand on the table. Ferda once again placed his hand over hers.
Crack.
At that moment, the sound of something breaking echoed. Looking closely, the table was cracked.
‘Wasn't this table made of granite?’
It was a material boasting such high durability that it was said it wouldn't break even if a meteor fell from the sky. A table made from it was essentially the hardest piece of furniture on the continent.
‘They said it wouldn't even chip under normal circumstances, but as expected...’
She wasn't called the Aspect of Power for nothing. As Ferda thought this, he suddenly reflected on his past actions.
Their first meeting. The thing he had done out of an impulsive desire to see Valdrova’s face.
‘I’m certain I even interlaced our fingers back then.’
Ferda felt grateful for the fact that his right hand hadn't been crushed to pieces. Despite that chilling thought, Ferda couldn't bring himself to let go of Valdrova’s hand.
It was small and soft. He felt her warm body temperature and her clear, steady pulse. It was a small part of her he never wanted to let go of. If he had to let go, he wanted to feel it fully, without regrets.
‘It might be okay even if my hand gets a little crushed.’
He considered just going for it, but his reason suppressed the thought.
“Are you still suffering because of that blood energy lately?”
Valdrova shook her head.
“No... I’m fine.”
“Lady Valdrova was unable to hunt yesterday,” Ruri interjected.
“R-Ruri?!”
Valdrova was flustered. Ruri, who had appeared out of nowhere to drop that information, fell silent again.
“Is that true?”
“Well... yes... but it’ll be fine. Just because they didn't show up yesterday doesn't mean the monsters won't come today.”
“But there’s no guarantee they will, either.”
“Yes, that’s... true.”
“If you cannot hunt, you will end up harming yourself.”
“...”
Valdrova fell silent. She was at a loss for what to say in this atmosphere. However, words weren't really necessary.
“Ah...”
Valdrova felt something flowing in through the back of her hand. It was a sensation she knew well—the same thing that had calmed her blood energy before.
“Mr. Ferda...”
“It is alright.”
Valdrova fell silent. As the energy entered her body, it began to settle her heart. Even though she had felt it once before, she couldn't help but be amazed. To think that the sensation which could only be resolved through violence could be calmed so peacefully.
“Um, Mr. Ferda...”
“Yes.”
“I think this is enough now.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Ferda stopped the mana injection. Silence fell—an incredibly awkward silence.
Yet, neither dared to break it. It felt as though the moment someone spoke, the spell would break. It felt as though this hand, joined through such courage, would drift away.
Just a little longer. They savored the uncomfortable silence together.