Chapter 2 - Have I Returned Again?

"My younger brother is going through with an engagement to Grand Duchess Valdrova?"

The second son, Huren Rosnova, reacted as if he could not believe it.

Gray hair and brown eyes.

He was the man in charge of intellect in House Rosnova, and the one who would become the next family head.

He had recently gone to the empire on business as a proxy for his father, Erembalt, and was on his way back.

"Yes."

The butler who had reported the matter nodded.

"Really?"

"That is correct."

"That makes no sense. Didn't that bastard misunderstand something?"

"He seems to understand exactly what it means."

"Well, if even my elder brother understands it, there's no way that bastard wouldn't..."

Huren scratched his chin.

With his mind, he could not understand this situation.

'In a situation where he either has to die or leave, why did that bastard choose death?'

Was it a way to appeal to their father that he was a real man?

But it was something decided by the empire, so once he accepted instead of refusing, it could not be withdrawn.

The same went for Ferda.

If he belatedly said, "I'll just leave this house," it would be considered a violation of imperial law, and his head and body would be separated.

"So what is that bastard doing now?"

"He is scheduled to depart sometime today, so he should be preparing to leave right now."

"Is that so? Then there is still a little time left for brothers to talk."

Hearing that, the butler inwardly wore an expression of disbelief.

The first person to loathe and ostracize Ferda after seeing that he was a concubine's child with blue eyes had been none other than Huren.

It was absurd for him to speak of brothers.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Huren walked down the corridor as if strolling through a garden.

When he arrived in front of Ferda's room, the maids who were supposed to attend him were waiting before the door.

"Why are you all standing outside instead of attending him?"

The maids jumped in fright, bowed their heads, and explained the situation.

"W-Well, we said we would attend to him, but he ordered us to stay outside..."

"How ridiculous. So you are saying you are waiting outside?"

"Yes..."

"You pathetic things. Are you saying he is putting on his own clothes? Even that bastard is a noble in his own shabby way, so how could he do that?"

Huren vented his irritation, but inside, he was shouting for joy.

'I knew it! Now that the day has come, he doesn't want to do it, does he?'

Huren cleared his throat and flung the door open.

"Ferda! You bastard, not even getting ready properly, what do you think you're..."

Huren, who had been about to get angry, was left speechless.

The image of Ferda he had been picturing in his head was one of him sprawled on the bed, whining that he did not want to go.

But what Huren was seeing now was,

'He's dressing himself?'

Ferda, looking into the mirror as he buttoned up his clothes.

"What are you doing barging in without even knocking, Brother?"

Instead, he had created an opening for Ferda to point out his rudeness.

"I thought you would be hiding in bed."

"There's no way I would, is there? How could I dawdle on a day as important as today?"

"Then why do you have the servants waiting outside?"

"Because I can at least dress myself. I won't be able to receive help from maids anymore, after all."

A calm tone.

His gaze stayed fixed on the mirror as he inspected himself.

Huren blinked as he looked at Ferda.

'Is this bastard really the one I knew?'

What kind of man had Ferda been?

A parasite wearing human skin, trying to survive with a servile smile.

But now?

He was calm and composed, like a dignified middle-aged man.

'And this is Ferda of all people...'

For the first time in his life, Huren felt a sense of tension from Ferda's appearance.

To smooth over his own emotions, Huren gave a dry cough and changed the subject.

"Ahem. Fine. I heard you accepted the engagement with Grand Duchess Valdrova."

"Yes."

"If you've done nothing but read books, you should know what that engagement means, shouldn't you?"

"I know very well. Wasn't it just another way of telling me to stop hanging around the family and get lost?"

"Why do you put it like that? No matter what, do you think Rosnova would send you off without putting a single coin in your hand? They help you enough to stand on your own with that."

Ferda thought.

Money, was it...

Yes, they did put money in his hand.

How much?

Enough to live on for ten years.

The problem was that this "ten years" meant ten years by the standards of commoners.

To Ferda, who was used to noble life, it was a small sum he could squander in three days.

'Well, I gave all that money to my master anyway.'

It was not because he wanted to.

It was because the only magic master willing to accept a late-blooming disciple was a man obsessed with money.

He had not taught Ferda properly, but simply being able to access information had still meant a great deal.

'That old man must still be chasing money and women even now.'

As Ferda recalled those days, he snorted with a faint laugh.

'This bastard is laughing?'

No matter how Huren thought about it, he believed Ferda was misunderstanding something.

Otherwise, there was no way he could be relaxed enough to laugh.

"No matter how I look at it, it seems you have the wrong idea about something. Do you know why being engaged to the raging dragon means death?"

"Why wouldn't I? I know very well. Her first fiancé was torn to death, wasn't he?"

Valdrova's first fiancé was the empire's 3rd Prince. And he was a man who was the current emperor's uncle.

He was famous for his extraordinary mind, outstanding looks, and good reputation.

He had even been mentioned as the next emperor, though he himself had refused it.

That 3rd Prince had been smashed beyond being cut into three pieces, to the point where his form could hardly be recognized.

It happened less than a day after he went to the Grand Duchess.

Based on that incident, the world interpreted it this way.

-The person who becomes Valdrova's fiancé must possess abilities greater than the 3rd Prince's.

After that, Valdrova sought a new fiancé again, but no one volunteered.

The 3rd Prince was already said to be nearly perfect, so there was no way anyone would be capable enough to fill that place.

Still, a fiancé had to be selected, so every year, one noble was chosen.

The problem was that every one of them either ran away or declared that they would remove themselves from their family register, causing it all to fall through.

As that gradually deteriorated into something else, it ended up becoming an excuse nobles used when kicking out their children.

"Do you believe you can do what that 3rd Prince could not?"

Could he do it?

"I do not know."

To be honest, he had no confidence.

Even Ferda, who had proven his ability by becoming the youngest 8th Circle Great Mage no one had ever reached, had no certainty strong enough to state it flatly.

But Ferda was not the kind of person who moved only when he had that sort of certainty.

"Well, isn't it something I can find out little by little?"

Huren thought that Ferda was reckless.

Huren looked at him with disgust and threatened him.

"I don't care what you do, but do not run away."

"..."

"The moment you run, House Rosnova will release its people and cut off your head. Do you understand?"

Normally, Ferda would have been terrified of that face.

But Ferda stared at Huren without showing any emotion.

"Brother."

Huren was momentarily overwhelmed by that gaze.

"What? Why?"

"You should take better care of what's below your waist. Every time you look at our eldest sister-in-law, everyone knows about that lecherous gaze of yours."

Huren's face turned bright red.

"W-What?! You, you, what are you...!"

"Even if you want to hit me, please hold back. Your younger brother has to go into a dragon's jaws, so I will take my leave."

Ferda patted Huren's shoulder as he passed by.

Huren could only stare blankly at Ferda, who seemed not merely mature, but even composed.

* * *

"It was an honor to serve you, young master."

The butler seeing him off on his final road shed tears.

Ferda stared quietly at those tears.

'He is spouting words he doesn't mean.'

If those tears had any meaning, it would be closer to relief than sadness.

After all, for a servant, serving a young master of a noble family who had no ability and no use was a disgrace.

'Was this man one of the ones who tampered with my food?'

At the time, he had not known.

He had thought falling because the floor had been made slippery, or throwing up midway through a meal, was because of his own frail body.

Could he ever have imagined that the servants had done such things?

Normally, it would have been enough to make him burn with hatred and vengeance.

The only mercy he could offer would have been to kill them without even letting them realize they had died.

'What meaning would that have now?'

But the current Ferda was perfectly peaceful.

The burning flame had vanished, and only calm had settled in its place.

He had already completed his revenge once, so he decided not to have any more lingering attachment to that place.

And so Ferda patted the butler's shoulder and encouraged him.

"Yes, you worked hard. Taking care of someone like me for so long, I mean."

"... Pardon?"

The butler, who had been acting as though he were shedding tears, was so flustered that his tears vanished at once.

"I leave the Rosnova family without me in your hands."

"Ah, yes..."

Ferda turned away just like that.

He was far too calm for someone walking to his death.

When Ferda came out of the house, the servant waiting for him greeted him.

"I am Hans, the coachman who will be serving you while you travel to your destination, young master."

"Coachman?"

"Yes, that is correct."

Ferda tilted his head.

"What I will be riding is a carriage?"

"Pardon? Ah, yes, it is. A carriage. What else would there be besides a carriage?"

"Hm, I see."

"Is there a problem?"

"No, it is nothing. I just thought it felt nostalgic."

"Ah, I see. ... Pardon?"

No matter how the coachman thought about it, he could not understand what Ferda was talking about.

"Then we will depart!"

SNORT!

The sound of the horse's snorting came together with the sound of hooves.

The carriage began to roll.

'It has truly been a long time since this.'

In the last time Ferda remembered, carriages had disappeared.

No, to be precise, the concept of the carriage had become something vague, a thing for the middle class.

'Because magic-powered automobiles came to take their empty place.'

At first, people opposed them on the grounds that tradition was disappearing.

But before long, their control and ease of space, which were on a different level from carriages, made them an item for nobles.

'Then sky carriages appeared too, and all sorts of other things followed.'

All of those things were created under the name of magic engineering.

'Though it was a story that had nothing to do with me.'

For Ferda, who had run forward looking only at revenge, it was a field of magic that stirred no particular feeling.

'Magic...'

Ferda had reached the 9th Circle, which no one else had achieved, and used wish magic.

But the current him was not a 9th Circle Great Mage.

'The weak, underestimated Ferda.'

Naturally, right now, he was far removed from magic as well.

After leaving the house, he would awaken to magic, but the driving force behind it had always been anger and vengeance.

The current Ferda had neither boiling anger nor blade-like vengeance.

It was only natural that it had not blossomed.

'I don't want to do that anymore either.'

Looking back, the magic Ferda wielded was like a drug.

A drug that felt good at first, but whose threshold rose higher and higher until it could no longer be controlled.

When he was mad, everything felt refreshing and pleasant, but now it was a terrible memory he did not want to experience again.

Ferda liked this bitter peace he felt now.

'That does not mean I want to live without using magic at all, though...'

Without magic, there were many inconvenient things after all.

For example, dressing by oneself.

Once one reached the 3rd Circle, it became possible to put on simple clothes by using magic.

At the 4th Circle, one could grasp the structure of complex formalwear and order magic to dress oneself.

'If I want to have no trouble living alone, I will have to reach at least the 4th Circle.'

If anyone else heard him talking about the 4th Circle as if it were the neighbor's dog, they would be dumbfounded.

But the emotion he felt right now was, as expected, a sense of being at a loss.

He had already once risen to the realm of the 9th Circle, but it was not the path Ferda knew well.

What did Ferda, who had no anger or vengeance, need in order to awaken magic?

"M-My lord...!"

No sooner had he asked himself than the frightened voice of the coachman reached him.

With just that, he could tell.

"W-We have arrived!"

* * *

The place where the carriage stopped was in the middle of a forest, and one sign stood before the open road ahead.

-This is the Grand Duchess's domain beyond this point. Entry beyond this point is strictly forbidden.

This was as far as the carriage could go.

"You worked hard."

Ferda got down from the carriage, and the coachman unloaded the luggage he had brought and waited beside him.

"You may go now."

"Still, I should wait for the person coming to receive you..."

He was putting on a stubborn act that did not suit him.

He must have been ordered to watch whether Ferda was running away as well.

"A dragon will come here soon."

"A d-dragon, you say?"

"Probably not the dragon herself, but a subordinate who inherited her blood, a spawn. But to people like you, it is 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 horses.

"Even if you endure seeing a dragon, those beasts will not. If the horses go wild and you cannot return home, would you not be the only one losing out?"

"Ah..."

"So report that I entered safely and return. If you die, it will all be for nothing, will it not?"

"U-Understood."

The coachman did not insist any further.

He set down one large bag loaded in the back of the carriage.

"Then this humble one will take his leave!! Stay healthy, my lord!"

The man who had said he would watch him turned the carriage around without even looking back.

It was so fast that the carriage's rear bounced.

Ferda sat down on the hard bag as if using it as a chair and waited.

"The Grand Duchess's territory..."

After a moment, the wind abruptly began to blow.

Ferda raised his head and looked toward the dark forest.