Chapter 48
The Shape of a Shadow
Ferda returned to the darkened room.
Rather than sleep, he intended to continue practicing the cultivation method.
The mana cultivation method known as the Shape of Shadow.
If ordinary mages were to rank cultivation methods by difficulty, it would belong in the upper tier.
However, Ferda was a man who had already walked paths far more difficult and grueling than this one.
He could perform something of this level as though it posed no problem at all.
All he needed was for the Circle to move.
And at last, it began to move.
The amount is far too small.
Ferda knew how to force it out.
Had he done so, he could have advanced all the way to the Fifth Circle immediately.
But he did not.
He knew how dangerous it was to be consumed by emotion.
Ferda remained wary of this feeling and struggled to find the answer.
At last, he found it.
Ferda closed his eyes.
He spread the flow of mana throughout his entire body and focused.
Then he slowly tilted everything and overturned it all.
Ferda’s entire mental image flattened against the ground.
His consciousness was projected into the world of shadows.
A shadow flickered within the candle flame, swaying gently with every breath.
Then the shadow moved on its own and slowly coiled around Ferda’s body.
The shadow that wound itself around him entered his core and came face-to-face with the crimson Circle within.
Valdrova.
Ferda’s mind began imagining Valdrova’s appearance of its own accord.
A mad painter lived inside his head.
The painter repeatedly drew the same figure upon the canvas, only to destroy it every time because he was never satisfied.
He painted thousands of pictures.
He destroyed thousands more.
The feeling that remained unfulfilled was not mere thirst.
It was also something I wanted to understand when I reached the Third Circle.
It was the question that had vanished while he prevented Valdrova from going berserk.
In the end, however, Ferda discovered the answer.
There had been an empty space in every image of Valdrova he had drawn.
Within that empty space were two syllables.
Tomorrow.
At that moment, the mad painter within his mind began to move.
Unlike when he had been consumed by rage, the painter was now filled with fervor.
This time, he took up a broader canvas and drew Valdrova without hesitation.
Her tomorrow.
Not merely her tomorrow.
A tomorrow… with me in it.
He filled the empty space with himself.
The picture became a single sentence.
I want to share tomorrow with her.
The moment the sentence was completed, something astonishing happened.
The pictures born from shallow imagination began to move as though alive.
Ferda knew what this was.
“Childlike innocence.”
A dream once dreamed by a sickly boy long ago.
The vague image of a lifelong companion was overwritten by that of a beautiful woman with crimson hair and four horns.
It was a dream.
At the same time, it was ecstasy.
Ecstasy was the pinnacle of emotion.
It moved.
The feeling swelling beyond control shook the Circle violently.
If left unchecked, Ferda was destined to break apart.
So Ferda focused.
Because the future they would share had to become reality rather than fantasy.
Ferda took the shape of the spirit he had been concentrating on and brought it toward the Circle.
At that moment, dozens of hands seized the raging torrents of mana and began shaping them into form.
Easy.
It was on an entirely different level from scooping mana up and shaping it with only one hand.
Creating his First and Second Circles had felt far more difficult.
This is too easy.
The mana was surrounded and pressed down from every direction, leaving it no opening through which to escape.
The rotation continued as rotation, while the form was shaped as form.
A new shell was overlaid upon the existing structure.
And in that manner, Ferda reached the Fourth Circle.
Ferda opened his eyes.
The shadow writhed before transforming into the shape of a hand.
It was the Third-Tier spell, Shadow Hand.
No.
It existed on an entirely different level from an ordinary Shadow Hand.
This was not an artificial construct created through magic.
It was another part of Ferda’s body, one that had been hidden within him.
Ferda adapted to it immediately.
The shadow is me.
The hand divided, producing another hand.
Those hands then divided into still more hands.
They continued multiplying without end.
The narrow room was soon filled entirely with black hands.
And I am the shadow.
Unable to withstand the dense darkness, the candle flame flickered out.
◇
A guild.
A guild was an organization that verified the identities of its members and granted them benefits.
In exchange, it held them accountable for their actions, controlled them through rules, and demanded unity whenever collective interests were at stake.
Its fundamental purpose was to protect the rights and interests of its members through the organization.
However, the Cerdes Human Magic Association was fundamentally different from such guilds.
Rather than verification, it offered surveillance.
Rather than benefits, it imposed control.
That was the world in which mages lived on the continent of Cerdes.
Its founder was Erdes Roton.
She was a war hero of the Twelve-Member Expedition that had united to defeat the Demon King during the Dragon-Demon War, as well as the founder of the Human Magic Association.
Even after one hundred and fifty years, she remained alive and active.
She was the mage who had never surrendered the title of humanity’s strongest mage, even to the current generation.
A congregation of intellect.
A living witness to history.
She possessed experience that could not be ignored, yet she looked younger than women in the prime of their lives.
“You must attend to your official duties.”
“I don’t want to!”
She threw a tantrum like a child despite her youthful appearance.
“I hate working! Leave me alone!”
“Your official duties have been piling up for days. Look at this! The documents are stacked so high that I cannot even see your face, President!”
“I piled them up because I didn’t want to see your face. Have Blue do it instead.”
“How could I possibly do it in your place? And my name is Lu.”
“No one is going to die just because they have to wait a little. If they have a problem with it, tell them to come say it to my face.”
“But you refuse to open the door.”
“If they challenge me to a duel, I always open it, don’t I?”
“What kind of lunatic would fight the President of the Association?”
She was a war hero of the Dragon-Demon War and humanity’s strongest mage.
In a world where the difference between Circles reduced one’s chances of victory to nearly nothing, there was theoretically no one capable of defeating her.
“That’s exactly the problem. They claim they’re prepared to risk their lives, but the moment I ask, ‘Want to die?’ they shout, ‘I want to live!’ and run away. No backbone. None at all.”
“You crippled the last person who risked his life against you.”
“I failed to control my strength a little. These things happen. Besides, we reached an amicable settlement.”
She dismissed the matter as though it were nothing.
All her secretary could do was sigh and hand her another document.
“This is the list of attendees for the upcoming Grand Council. Please check it.”
Not that it matters if you don’t.
Lu muttered the last part under her breath.
Erdes crooked one finger, and the list flew into her hand.
“There are plenty of old men I know on here. If they’ve grown that damned old, they should hand their titles over to their sons. How long do they plan to cling to power?”
“Indeed.”
The secretary gazed pointedly at Erdes.
“Look away before I gouge out your eyes. Otherwise, you’ll regret it.”
Erdes’s swiftly moving gaze suddenly stopped on one place.
“Is something wrong?”
“I thought I had misread it.”
She read the word several times.
“But I didn’t. Blue, you bastard. Can’t you do your job properly?”
“Pardon?”
Lu was startled by the sudden abuse.
Erdes pointed at one of the names written on the list.
“This man’s surname is written as Valdrova.”
“Ah, that really is the name of the Red Dragon Valdrova. I did not write it incorrectly, and it was not a mistake by the organizers either.”
“You swear you’re not lying?”
“Yes. We have the records as well.”
Erdes shrugged, shaking off her embarrassment.
“That terrifying dragon has done something unusual. So is this man Valdrova’s Spawn?”
“Uh… You did not know?”
Erdes smiled faintly.
However, a cold shadow fell over her face.
“What exactly is it that I don’t know? That I’m some clueless, empty-headed young lady? Or that your head might go flying today?”
“Gasp! N-No, that is not what I meant at all! I had absolutely no intention of belittling or mocking you, President. This was purely—”
“Get to the point.”
“Well, this time, he is the fiancé of the Red Dragon Valdrova.”
“Fiancé?”
Despite Erdes’s childish behavior, she understood what it meant to be Valdrova’s fiancé.
“For real?”
“Pardon?”
“I asked if it’s real.”
“Uh, yes. It is real.”
“Interesting. Not many people willingly walk toward their own execution… Ferda, was it? Bring me this man’s records.”
“Ah, one moment!”
The secretary placed both hands against her temples and recited a spell.
“Search: Ferda Valdrova.”
At that moment, bundles of paper squeezed through the gap beneath the office door and stacked themselves neatly in front of the secretary.
Once the spell was complete, she handed the papers to Erdes.
“H-Here they are!”
Erdes’s eyes quickly scanned the documents.
“Let’s see. Third son of House Rosnova… and currently…”
Erdes’s gaze gradually calmed.
The farther her eyes moved down the page, the more serious her expression became.
“Blue.”
“Yes?”
“When is the Grand Council being held?”
Lu’s eyes widened.
“It will be held in five days. Surely you are not thinking of attending?”
“I was going to skip it since they would probably do nothing but talk about boring nonsense, but now I think going might not be such a bad idea.”
Erdes stared intently at Ferda’s portrait.
“Besides, I should at least be allowed to see this stupidly handsome face in person, shouldn’t I?”
“The important thing is that you will attend. We may be late, but I will prepare a carriage immediately—”
“No. There is no need.”
Erdes twirled one finger through the air.
A circular portal appeared, tracing the same path her finger had drawn.
“Why would I go through all that trouble when there is such a simple solution?”
It was the Fifth-Tier spell, Teleportation Door.
She had effortlessly cast the difficult spell without an incantation or magic circle.
For an ordinary mage, it would have been an astonishing sight they might never witness again in their lifetime.
However, Lu felt far more anxious than impressed.
“So, Lu. I’m off to perform my official duties.”
“Pardon?”
“Take good care of this place while I’m gone. And don’t forget to feed the cats!”
“No, President! Wait!”
“I’m leaving!”
The president casually waved and threw herself through the Teleportation Door.
“If you’re using a portal, couldn’t you finish the overdue work before you gooo?!”
The portal closed as though mocking Lu’s scream.
◇
Ten days before the Grand Council, Ferda completed his preparations to travel to the central region of the continent.
To reach Blancaros’s territory in the continent’s center, he had to depart immediately.
Customs truly are pointless.
The higher one’s status, the more one was expected to possess.
That included time, and having leisure was considered a noble virtue.
To Ferda, who had experienced the future, it was ridiculous.
Once mana-powered automobiles became widespread, that culture of leisurely travel disappeared.
Instead, nobles began seeking faster means of transportation.
“Regent, may I come in?”
It was Zed rather than Luri.
As a member of Valdrova Castle, he wore a crimson formal uniform.
The retainers of the Dread Queen’s domain were required to dress that way.
“Sir Arwon and the soldiers Count Consilus sent have just arrived.”
“I see.”
“Our carriage is also ready. All that remains is for you to board… Hm?”
Zed slowly looked Ferda up and down with a puzzled expression.
“Is there a problem?”
“Not exactly. I was merely wondering whether you intended to wear that.”
Ferda’s clothing was remarkably plain.
Nobles were people who did everything possible to make themselves shine.
At the very least, they used threads drawn from jewels so that their clothing glittered.
Gold thread, being the easiest to acquire, was almost always included.
Even when Ferda had entered the imperial palace, he had worn crimson clothing embroidered with gold.
Now, however, his clothing was primarily black with red accents.
Even its sheen came from nothing more than a moderate amount of starch.
Compared to other nobles, it was exceedingly modest.
“I have never liked gold.”
“What kind of person in this world dislikes gold?”
Zed reacted as though the very idea were absurd.
He looked Ferda’s clothing over and made his own assessment.
“Without it, you might look similar to me.”
“That is fortunate. It will reduce the likelihood of an assassin with no sense of style targeting me.”
“I doubt anyone would target me as your double. I am far too handsome.”
Zed smiled with a look full of narcissism.
Ferda ignored him and picked up an object from the table.
“Take this.”
Zed began stepping forward because he was too far away to receive it.
At that moment, something astonishing happened.
Rustle—
A shadow stretched from Ferda’s hand, seized the object, and carried it toward Zed.
Zed was considerably startled by the shadowy hand but tried not to show it.
“What is this?”
“The item I promised you.”
At the mention of a promise, Zed checked the contents.
“Ferda Valdrova, consort, representative, and regent of Valdrova, acting on behalf of Valdrova, one of the Great Twelve Dragons and ruler of strength and flame, hereby appoints Zed Swallow as the King’s Sword, the shield of the people, and…”
He did not need to read the entire tongue-twisting document to understand what it was.
“A certificate of knighthood?”
Zed raised his head with wide eyes.
“…Is this real?”
“Would I give you a fake? Did you not join me under the promise that I would help you enter high society?”
“You said you would help me become part of the upper class, but I never expected you to knight me immediately.”
Knighthood was a stepping stone toward nobility.
Unless one came from a hereditary knightly household or achieved outstanding military feats, becoming a knight was nearly impossible.
“Is it truly all right for me to receive this now?”
“There is no need for concern. Your ability was sufficiently proven at the imperial warehouse.”
“No, that is not what I meant…”
Zed waved both hands.
“Isn’t this sort of thing usually accompanied by a grand banquet?”
“…”
“You invite women, sing songs, drink alcohol… Skipping such an important part feels rather…”
Ferda stared silently at Zed as the man mimed raising a cup.
Perhaps he should take the certificate back.
“Focus on your mission, Sir Zed.”
“Tsk. Understood, Regent.”
My party…
Muttering under his breath, Zed left the room.
“I should prepare as well.”
Ordinarily, Luri would have assisted him, but that was no longer necessary.
Rustle—
Black mist extended from Ferda’s sleeves and chest.
The mist formed eight hands and began attending to him.
They fastened his buttons, straightened his clothing, and arranged everything until his appearance was nearly perfect.
The Fourth Circle is indeed worth reaching.
For now, his control remained immature, so he could use the hands only for simple tasks like these.
However, those hands were extensions of Ferda’s own arms.
Once he grew accustomed to them, they would be capable of casting magic circles and catching opponents off guard.
His talent had not yet abandoned him.
All that remained was practice and experience.
“Shall we go?”
The sound of Ferda’s boots echoed along the corridor.
By the time he reached the inner castle gate, numerous soldiers had assembled below.
“Show your respect!”
Arwon’s voice rang out powerfully.
The soldiers moved in perfect unison and dropped to one knee.
It was only a single motion, yet it revealed how brutally they had been trained.
“Arwon Wolfheart and the thirty soldiers under my command have been ordered to carry out the escort mission!”
“We have received our orders!”
The soldiers shouted in unison.
Ferda looked over each of them before nodding.
“I will be relying on you.”
“Yes! Take your positions!”
Arwon mounted his horse, and the soldiers formed an escort formation.
Zed sat on horseback beside Arwon.
He had not even been a knight for a full day, yet as expected of a notorious womanizer, he somehow managed to look the part.
Ferda turned his gaze toward the carriage.
A crimson carriage and Luri, dressed as a maid, waited for him.
She held the door with the same businesslike expression she always wore.
“Please board.”
“Very well.”
Ferda left the castle and was about to step into the carriage when he sensed someone watching him.
He subtly turned his head and looked up at the castle.
There was a balcony overlooking the main gate from the inner castle.
No one stood there.
Naturally.
What was I expecting?
“Lord Ferda?”
“Let us go.”
Ferda took his seat, and the carriage began to move.
The long ten-day journey passed like an arrow in flight.