I Married the Dragon I Killed
Chapter 49
Chapter 49
Central Serdes.
A single castle stood tall in the middle of a vast, level plain.
The land was fertile and open, perfect for farmland, yet it was a lush green meadow covered only in grass.
There were no traces of people or living creatures nearby.
It looked like an island perched atop a sea of emerald green.
This was the domain of Blancaros and the site of the Grand Council, where the affairs of the entire continent were handled.
Commonly known as the White House.
Ferda had arrived.
‘Is it just ahead?’
Ferda looked up at the castle gates.
The gates were already 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 more.
In front of the gate, a translucent white veil was draped in a circular dome, acting as a barrier.
Order and Domain.
If those two conditions were met, no one could defy Blancaros within his territory.
Not even a god.
“You may rest easy.”
A young man’s voice called out from beyond the gate.
Turning toward the voice, Ferda saw a man standing there.
“Lord Blancaros is generous to those who observe rules and order.”
Ferda scanned the man’s appearance.
Snow-white clothing and snow-white skin.
His pale look was reminiscent of a vampire.
That would have been the case if not for the pair of horns and his eyes.
The man placed a hand over his chest and introduced himself.
“Forgive my late introduction. I am the Hand of Blancaros, assigned to guide Ferda-nim.”
As expected, he was a spawn of Blancaros.
Blancaros had three spawns in total: the Hand, the Mouth, and the Eyes.
As their names suggested, each was characterized by a specialization in that specific part.
Unlike other dragon spawns, they were notably polite.
“Please, come inside. I shall lead the way.”
And they could never leave Blancaros’s domain.
“I understand.”
Ferda reached his hand into the domain.
In that instant, he felt a sensation like tiny particles burrowing into his skin.
Soon, Ferda felt an abnormality in the movement of the circles dwelling within his dantian.
They were slowing down.
However, it wasn’t a jarring obstruction like catching on a foreign object; it felt natural, as if he were relaxing his power of his own volition.
‘Truly remarkable.’
An absolute domain.
Because this absolute force applied even to the ruler himself, it was delicately woven and sturdier than anything else imaginable.
Yet, this suppression did not lead to complete neutralization.
The message it sent was clear.
‘If you think you can harm me, go ahead and try.’
But Blancaros’s gavel of law would not be evaded.
Leaving not a shred of room for excuse.
That was the point he intended to emphasize.
‘I should still be able to move Shadow Hand.’
The concentration required to create a magic circle was also interfered with, but it didn’t matter if he didn’t create one.
After all, Shape of Shadow was a technique he had mastered for exactly this kind of situation.
Ferda glanced back.
Zed and Arwen, who were following him, also looked uncomfortable.
“How does it feel to step into the domain?”
“Not great. It feels… disempowering? My eyes feel a bit stiff, too.”
“The same for me. I feel like my strength is draining. It seems I can’t use Aura….”
The knight could not use Aura, and Zed’s unique ability as a member of the Red Eye Tribe was being hindered.
“Ruri, what about you?”
“No issues.”
“Is that so?”
The conversation ended dryly.
However, anyone watching the two of them would have found it quite strange.
Arwen leaned slightly toward Zed 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 fight, it’s the humans who get caught in the crossfire.
Zed, having already experienced it once, shuddered.
“There are five hours left until the meeting begins. Would you like to go to your room? Or perhaps the banquet hall?”
“What is the difference?”
“Rest, or social networking. Many people are currently gathered in the banquet hall.”
“Shouldn’t we obviously go to the banquet hall?”
Zed’s eyes sparkled exceptionally bright.
When Ferda gave him a look of pathetic pity, Zed hurried to make an excuse.
“Think about it. Know your enemy and know yourself, and 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.”
Zed glared at him as if offended, but he didn’t dare deny it.
“Lead us to the banquet hall.”
“Understood.”
The Hand of Blancaros began to lead the way, and Ferda patted Zed on the shoulder before following.
“Enjoy the banquet to your heart’s content.”
“Huh? Ah, yes. Thank you.”
As they walked, those words began to nag at Zed’s mind.
He thought and thought about it.
‘No way.’
Surely not.
But it might be true.
Because if it was Ferda, he might actually do it.
Just in case, Zed leaned in and whispered to Ferda.
“You’re not thinking of using this banquet to skip the investiture ceremony banquet, are you?”
“…….”
“You’re… not, right?”
Ferda did not answer.
The White House Banquet Hall.
With only five hours left until the council, many nobles had already gathered.
If the number of companions allowed for each person hadn’t been limited, the hall would have been bursting at the seams.
The snow-white main doors slid open, and the laughter and music held within spilled out.
“Hoh.”
His first time entering the Grand Council.
The sight made even the unsentimental Ferda let out an exclamation of admiration.
He had thought the buildings of the Empire were grand, but in the end, they were things built by humans.
A dragon’s architecture delivered a shock of a completely different dimension.
Inside, people accustomed to this atmosphere were laughing and chatting.
It wasn’t just humans.
Great Chiefs of the Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes—even races that didn’t usually mingle with human society were in attendance.
“Oh….”
The one who couldn’t hold back an exclamation was Arwen.
Watching him, Zed smirked as if it were cute.
“Is this your first party, Mr. Knight?”
“No, I’ve been to plenty of parties for official business following the Count.”
“Then stop making that country bumpkin face. It’s too obvious.”
“Ah, right, I’ll….”
At Zed’s warning, Arwen meekly conceded and fixed his gaze straight ahead.
The awkwardness didn’t vanish, though.
‘Concilus was right.’
He was a man who needed experience.
Unlike the country bumpkin Arwen, Zed and Ruri were not overwhelmed by the atmosphere.
Zed was far too used to high society.
Ruri, for her part, simply went at her own pace.
And the emotion Ferda felt beneath this splendor was—
‘It feels like walking into a den of vipers.’
Displeasure.
This was on a different level from the power struggles with provincial lords.
From the moment he locked eyes with them, it felt like a battle.
Even favorable eyes were constantly scanning him to catch a weakness.
Everything, down to the brief greetings as they turned away, felt like they were appraising Ferda.
‘I suppose that’s why they are high-ranking nobles or kings of nations.’
They had power.
The power to endure in that position.
The power to climb to the seat they desired.
The power to drag down the person currently holding it.
What should one do when surrounded by such people?
It was a truly simple question.
Ferda simply straightened his back and walked forward as if to show off.
Ferda made eye contact with each of them, reading the flow.
Even in a social circle where everyone mingled, people eventually clustered into their own factions.
Ferda thought.
If.
If I were to join a group, where should I go?
As he pondered that, someone caught his eye.
“Haha! You’ve arrived! Regent of Valdroba!”
Among the clusters of humans, a man and some women stood out in exceptionally flamboyant attire.
They were surrounded as if they were the center of the world, and the man was beckoning to Ferda.
On the man’s shoulder was the crest of the Arken Empire.
‘Alexander Arken.’
The 1st Prince of the Arken Empire.
The incompetent Emperor, Godfrey Arken.
1st Prince Alexander Arken and 2nd Prince Ureas Arken had struggled desperately to drag him off the throne.
They had dubbed it the scene of history for the Empire’s new leap forward.
But the result was miserable.
Godfrey remained steadfast, and his two sons became laughingstocks.
‘Two sons so incompetent they couldn’t even dethrone an incompetent Emperor.’
Since the public image was shifting toward Godfrey being the better option by comparison, they had only served to make the Emperor’s position even more secure.
For Ferda, who desired the Empire’s destruction, those two were nothing but useless trash.
“Let me introduce myself formally. 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 announce he was the future Emperor.
“Ferda Valdroba. I greet the 1st Prince.”
“I apologize for not being able to reply to your previous letter. I was so busy with official duties that day I didn’t even have time to blink.”
Like hell he was.
While Ferda was thinking that, a woman standing beside the prince chimed in.
“Haha! The Prince has a hundred million subjects before him; even two bodies wouldn’t be enough!”
Unlike the golden-shining Prince, her brilliance came from her blue attire.
Her youthful appearance and boisterous laughter seemed quite arrogant, but even Alexander didn’t dare do anything about her.
Despite her looks, her age was well over a century.
“Who is this handsome man? Won’t you introduce me, Prince?”
“Ah, of course! My apologies! Allow me to introduce you! This is Erdes Roton-nim, the President of the Serdes Human Magic Society.”
Erdes Roton.
Roton.
Once the greatest family of alchemists, and also the worst family of swindlers.
The last bloodline of that house was Erdes.
She had no territory, no title.
All she possessed was the 7th Circle.
Under that name, all mages in human society were managed and controlled by her.
Rather,
They had to be controlled.
She was the type of woman who could only be satisfied that way.
“I am Ferda Valdroba. It is truly an honor to meet the Great Mage.”
“Haha! I wanted to see the Grand Duke’s face, but I ended up seeing her fiancé first.”
“I heard it was difficult for Her Grace to attend this meeting.”
“Of course, I know. This is a place for mortals, not immortals.”
She smiled.
It was closer to a reflexive smile than one of genuine enjoyment.
Her eyes stared intently at Ferda.
“Regent Valdroba—no, I’ll call you Regent Ferda. I’m not quite used to mentioning the name Valdroba itself. Is that alright?”
“Please do so.”
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“From a family of mages?”
“No. I was the third son of a knightly family called Rosnova.”
Her eyes went wide and round as the moon.
“Hmm, how surprising! I heard knights do mana cultivation, but I understood it was merely a secondary pursuit. Yet, I feel the essence of a mage from your body?”
“I have trained as a mage.”
“Oho, really? You’ve achieved such great things at a young age! Haha!”
Her tongue moved incessantly along with her boisterous laughter.
“I heard from the Prince. You played a big part in catching the rats in the Empire recently?”
“Rats?”
“The warlocks.”
He remembered.
She was referring to the group of warlocks hiding in the sewers.
In reality, he had only eliminated them because it was obvious they would become an obstacle to bringing down the Empire.
Ferda did not lie.
“I merely contributed a small part to the larger picture.”
“Don’t be so modest. That’s not the end of your achievements, is it? You also handled the Thessalos Walcher business?”
This time, she 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 damn 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 her body forward.
“Since he fell into black magic.”
The wine in her glass swirled slightly.
“Do you know? I absolutely loathe warlocks.”
It was a well-known fact that she detested black magic.
Zero tolerance was her principle for those who practiced it.
She would strip them of their qualifications and shatter their circles so 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 things sell their souls to demons and then package what they get as ‘effort.’ They don’t even realize they eventually become puppets worse than dogs, less than the spirits wandering the afterlife.”
Her narrowed eyes were glowing blue.
“What about you, Count Ferda? What do you think of those who practice black magic, hmm?”
The gaze she directed at him was one of vivid loathing.
It was the same look she reserved for warlocks.
“Specifically, what do you think would happen if someone inherited and continued the practice of necromancy using monsters?”
That hatred was directed at Ferda.
The meaning was clear.
‘I know who you are.’
That Ferda possessed a Red Circle.
That he had practiced black magic.
That was why she was loathing Ferda right now.
As the strongest mage of humanity, her hatred was something to be feared.
‘But do you know even this?’
That your hatred has strangled your own neck.
That you have fallen into the grave you dug with your own resentment.
And that the one who pushed you into it…
Was none other than me.
