Chapter 2. Have I come back again
"My little brother is going through with an engagement to Dread Queen Valdrova?"
The second son, Huren Rosnova, reacted like he couldn't believe it.
Gray hair and brown eyes.
He was the man in charge of intellect in House Rosnova and would become the next family head.
He had recently gone to the Empire on business as Erembalt's representative and was on his way back.
"Yes."
The butler who reported it nodded.
"Seriously?"
"That is correct."
"That makes no sense. Did that bastard misunderstand something?"
"It seems he understands exactly what it means."
"Well, if even his elder brother understands it, there's no way that bastard wouldn't...…."
Huren scratched his chin.
No matter how he thought about it, he couldn't understand the situation.
'In a situation where he either dies or leaves, why did he choose to die?'
Was it a way to prove to Father that he was a real man?
But since it was something decided by the Empire, once he accepted it instead of refusing, it couldn't be withdrawn.
That was the same for Ferda.
If he tried to say later, 'I'll just leave this house,' it would be regarded as breaking imperial law and his head would be separated from his body.
"So what is that bastard doing right now?"
"He is scheduled to depart within today so he is probably preparing to leave right now."
"Yeah? Then there's a little time left for brothers to talk."
Hearing that, the butler made a dumbfounded expression inside.
The very first person to hate and ostracize the concubine's child for having blue eyes was none other than Huren.
It was ridiculous for him to talk about "brothers."
With his hands clasped behind his back, Huren walked down the hallway as if strolling through a garden.
When he arrived in front of Ferda's room, maids who were supposed to attend him were waiting outside the door.
"Why are you standing outside instead of attending him?"
The maids flinched and bowed their heads as they explained.
"Th, that is, we said we would attend him, but he ordered us to stay outside so ...."
"Absurd. So you're saying you're waiting outside because he told you to?"
"Yes ...."
"Pathetic. Are you telling me he's putting his own clothes on? He's still a noble in his own way, how is he supposed to do that?"
Huren grumbled in irritation, but inside he was cheering.
'Of course! Now that it's the actual day, he doesn't want to do it!'
Huren cleared his throat and threw the door open.
"Ferda! You, not even properly prepared, what are you—"
Huren, who was about to explode, went silent.
In his head, the Ferda he imagined was sprawled on the bed whining that he didn't want to go.
But what Huren was seeing now was,
'He's dressing himself?'
Ferda was looking into a mirror and fastening buttons.
"If you barge in without knocking, what am I supposed to do, elder brother?"
Instead, Ferda left an opening where he could point out Huren's rudeness.
"I thought you'd be holed up in bed."
"How could that be? On a day as important as today, how could I possibly be late?"
"Then why did you make the servants wait outside?"
"I can put on clothes on my own. That is all. I won't be able to receive a maid's help anymore."
A calm tone.
His gaze stayed fixed on the mirror as he inspected himself.
Huren blinked as he watched Ferda.
'Is this really the bastard I knew?'
What kind of man was Ferda?
A parasite wearing a human shell who tried to survive by smiling servilely.
But now?
He was calm and composed like a dignified middle-aged man.
'Ferda of all people...…'
For the first time in his life, Huren felt tension from Ferda's presence.
To smooth over his emotions, Huren gave a fake cough and changed the subject.
"Ahem, fine. I heard you accepted an engagement to Dread Queen Baldrada."
"Yes."
"If you've read books, you should know what that engagement means?"
"I know very well. Wasn't it just a substitute way of saying, stop hanging around the family and get lost?"
"Why do you talk like that? Even so, would Rosnova send you off without giving you a single coin? With that, we'll help you stand on your own."
Ferda thought.
Money...…
Yes, they would give him money.
How much?
Enough to live for ten years.
The problem was that this "ten years" was ten years by commoner standards.
To Ferda, who was used to noble life, it was such a small amount he could squander it in three days.
'Well, I handed all that money to my master anyway.'
He didn't hand it over because he wanted to.
The only magic master willing to take in a late-blooming disciple was a man who loved money.
He didn't teach properly, but even just being able to access information had meaning.
'That old man is probably still chasing money and women.'
As Ferda recalled those days, he snorted.
'This bastard is smiling?'
No matter how he thought about it, Huren believed Ferda was misunderstanding something.
Or else, there was no way Ferda could afford to act relaxed enough to smile.
"No matter how I look at it, you've got something wrong. Do you know why getting engaged to a tyrant dragon is the same as dying?"
"How could I not? I know very well. Didn't the first fiancé get torn to pieces?"
Valdrova's first fiancé was the Empire's Third Prince and a figure who was an uncle generation to the current Emperor.
He was known for a brilliant mind, outstanding looks, and great popularity.
He was even spoken of as the next monarch, but he refused it of his own will.
And that Third Prince was smashed so thoroughly that beyond being cut into three, it was hard to even recognize the shape.
It happened in less than a day after he was sent to the Dread Queen.
Based on that incident, the world interpreted it like this.
-The one who must become Valdrova's fiancé must possess ability equal to or greater than the Third Prince.
After that, Valdrova searched again for a new fiancé, but no one applied.
The Third Prince was already close to perfect, there was no way anyone had the ability to fill that spot.
Still, they had to select a fiancé, so every year they picked one noble.
The problem was that they all ran away or declared they would strike their names from the family registry and left so it all fell through.
As it kept happening, it warped into a different meaning and became an excuse nobles used to drive out their children.
"Do you really believe you can do what the Third Prince couldn't?"
Could he do it?
"I don't know."
To be honest, he wasn't confident.
Even Ferda, who became the youngest eight-circle Archmage no one else ever reached and proved his ability, couldn't say it with certainty.
But Ferda was not someone who moved only with certainty.
"Well, isn't it something I can find out little by little?"
Huren thought Ferda was reckless.
He glared with an exasperated look and laid down a threat.
"I don't care whether you live or die, but don't run away."
"......"
"The moment you run, House Rosnova will send people to cut off your head. Understand?"
Normally, Ferda would have been terrified by that face.
But Ferda met Huren's gaze without showing any emotion.
"Elder brother."
Huren was overwhelmed by those eyes for a moment.
"Wh, what, why?"
"Take better care of what's below your waist. That lecherous look you give every time you see eldest sister-in-law, everyone knows."
Huren's face turned bright red.
"Wh, what?! Y, you, what are you—!"
"Even if you want to hit me, hold it in. I have to go into a dragon's mouth, so this younger brother will be leaving now."
Ferda lightly patted Huren's shoulder as he passed by.
Huren could only stare blankly at Ferda, who felt beyond mature, almost relaxed.
***
"It was an honor to serve you, young master."
The butler who welcomed him on his final road shed tears.
Ferda looked quietly at those tears.
'Saying things he doesn't mean.'
If those tears had any meaning, it was closer to relief than sorrow.
Serving a useless young master with no ability in a noble house was humiliating for a servant.
'Did this bastard mess with my food too?'
Back then, he didn't know.
Smoothing the floor to make him slip, or vomiting halfway through a meal, he thought it was because his body was weak.
Could he have imagined servants would do such things?
Normally, it would have been enough to set him ablaze with hatred and vengeance.
The only mercy he could offer was killing them so they wouldn't even realize they died.
'What does that matter now.'
But Ferda now was peaceful beyond measure.
The burning flames had vanished and only calm remained.
He had already completed revenge once, so he decided not to cling to that place anymore.
So Ferda patted the butler's shoulder and encouraged him.
"Yeah, you've worked hard. Taking care of someone like me for so long."
"......Pardon?"
The butler, acting out tears, was so flustered that his tears dried right up.
"Please take good care of House Rosnova without me."
"Ah, yes...."
Ferda turned around.
He was far too composed for someone heading off to die.
When Ferda stepped outside the house, a servant waiting for him greeted him.
"It is an honor to serve you while you travel to your destination. I am Hans the coachman."
"Coachman?"
"Yes, that is correct."
Ferda tilted his head.
"Am I riding in a carriage?"
"Yes? Ah, yes. A carriage. What else would it be?"
"Hm, I see."
"Is there some problem?"
"No, it's nothing. It just feels strangely familiar."
"Ah, is that so.... Yes?"
No matter how he thought about it, the coachman couldn't understand what he meant.
"Then we depart!"
-Prrr!
With the sound of a horse snorting and hooves clattering, the carriage began to roll.
'It's been a really long time, this.'
In Ferda's last memories, carriages disappeared.
No, more precisely, the very concept of a carriage became something meant for a vague middle class.
'Because something called a magic-powered automobile takes its place.'
At first, there was backlash because it erased tradition.
But it didn't take long for it to become a noble's possession due to control and convenience that were on a completely different level from a carriage.
'Then things like sky carriages come out too, all kinds of things.'
All of it was made under the name of mado engineering.
'It had nothing to do with me though.'
To Ferda, who had run forward looking only at revenge, it was a kind of magic that didn't stir him.
'Magic...….'
Ferda reached the nine-circle that no one else had achieved and tried wish magic.
But the Ferda of now was not a nine-circle Archmage.
'The frail Ferda who was only underestimated.'
Naturally, now he was far from magic.
He would awaken magic after leaving the house, but the driving force was anger and vengeance.
The Ferda of now had no boiling rage, no blade-sharp revenge.
It was only natural that he hadn't bloomed.
'I don't even want to be like that anymore.'
Looking back, the magic Ferda wielded was like a drug.
It felt good at first, but as the threshold rose, it became uncontrollable, like a drug.
When he was crazy, everything felt fresh and good, but now it was a horrific memory he never wanted to repeat.
Ferda liked this bitter calm he had now.
'That said, I don't want to live without using magic either....'
Without magic, there were still many inconveniences.
For example, putting on clothes alone.
When you reach the third circle, you can use magic to put on simple clothes.
At the fourth circle, you can grasp the structure of complex formalwear and instruct magic to dress you on its own.
'If I want to live alone without trouble, I need to reach at least the fourth circle.'
If someone else heard him reciting the fourth circle like it was nothing, they would be speechless.
But the feeling he had right now was still a sense of bleakness.
He had already climbed once to the nine-circle, but it wasn't a path Ferda truly knew.
What would Ferda need to awaken magic without anger and vengeance?
"M, my lord ...!"
As soon as he tried to ask himself, the coachman's frightened voice rang out.
That alone told him everything.
"We, we've arrived sir!"
***
The carriage stopped in the middle of a forest.
On the open road ahead, a single sign stood.
-This ahead is the Dread Queen's domain, entry beyond this point is strictly forbidden.
This was as far as a carriage could go.
"Good work."
Ferda stepped down from the carriage and the coachman unloaded the luggage he had brought and waited at the side.
"You should go now."
"Still, we must wait for the one coming to see you off..."
A show of stubbornness that didn't suit him.
He had surely been ordered to keep watch and make sure Ferda wasn't running away.
"Before long, a dragon will come here."
"A, a dragon sir?"
"Probably not the dragon itself, but a subordinate that inherited its blood, a spawn. But to people like you, it's no different from a dragon."
Cold sweat ran down the coachman's forehead and his Adam's apple bobbed.
Ferda jerked his chin toward the horse.
"Even if you can endure seeing a dragon, those beasts won't. If the horses panic and you can't get home, isn't that only your loss?"
"Aah ...!"
"So listen well, report that you brought me here and return. If you die, it all becomes meaningless, doesn't it?"
"I, I understand."
The coachman didn't insist anymore.
He set down one large bag from the back of the carriage.
"Then this humble one will take his leave!! Stay healthy, my lord!"
The one who was supposed to "guard" him didn't even look back and hurried the carriage away.
He was so fast the back of the carriage bounced.
Ferda sat down to wait, using the stiff bag as a chair.
"The Dread Queen's territory ...."
After a moment, a wind suddenly began to blow.
Ferda lifted his head and looked toward the dim forest.
A young girl was standing there.
A silver-haired young maid in maid attire.
You must not be fooled by appearances.
She was a dragon spawn.
"Are you Ferda Rosnova?"
She asked politely.
"Yes."
"I will escort you to the castle. This way."