Chapter 142 - It’s Okay to Cry

Silverwind was a dragon with silver hair and silver eyes.

Among all dragons, he possessed the gentlest temperament. Once, he had even been close with humans, and thanks to his remarkable affinity with them, he was regarded as the most renowned among the Guardian Dragons.

If everything in the world had an opposite to balance it, then Silverwind’s Dragon Spawn would have been that opposite.

As gentle as Silverwind himself was, his Dragon Spawn valued tradition and discipline above all else.

To fight the Frost Giants that surged from beyond the Northern Wall, every single warrior mattered.

That was why the barbarian tribes of the harsh north considered becoming the spawn of the Silver Dragon the greatest honor.

From that perspective, Luri, who had ignored tradition and undergone the Ascension Ceremony, was an exceptional case, and they could not look upon her favorably.

No... they could still tolerate the fact that she had become a Dragon Spawn through the Ascension Ceremony by showing a bit of flexibility.

The real problem surfaced when Luri declared that she truly intended to become a warrior.

From that moment on, all that remained for her was relentless hazing.

"The worst of them all... was Lord Goz."

Goz Silverwind had already been Silverwind’s second-in-command back then, a loyal subordinate who assisted him.

He was so unlike Silverwind that one could believe they were complete opposites, for no one valued tradition and discipline more strictly than he did.

Since Luri had not been chosen through the proper selection process, she had to be taught from the very basics.

And to Goz, the foundation of everything was perseverance.

Under the pretense of teaching her perseverance, Goz singled Luri out.

What he did had nothing to do with teaching.

It was nothing more than one-sided beatings and brutal abuse.

Time and time again, Goz drove Luri as though he intended to kill her.

Even those who had disliked Luri pitied her.

Without question, it was an atrocity.

The kind of absurd cruelty that would have broken even veteran warriors was forced upon the body of a young girl.

Naturally, fear of Goz took root deep within Luri’s heart.

The thought of opening her eyes each morning only to see his face brought her to tears.

Sometimes she even prayed that tomorrow would never come.

But somehow, she never gave up.

She knew the pain that came with giving up.

The sense of responsibility she had nurtured while living in the gutter transformed into the unyielding perseverance of a warrior.

For Father, who had taken me in.

For Silverwind.

I will become a warrior.

What does not kill me will make me stronger.

That resolve eventually became reality.

After enduring Goz’s merciless training, Luri became a true warrior.

Having survived decades in an environment harsher than anyone else’s, she grew faster than any other Dragon Spawn, until no one could look down on her anymore.

Around fifty years after becoming a spawn, she was nominated as a new member of the Royal Guard.

The place closest to the Silverwind she admired so deeply.

Yet Luri did not welcome the opportunity.

"Do you know why?"

"I do not."

"To enter the Royal Guard, you have to bring down another Royal Guard member. But once someone has become part of the Royal Guard, giving up is considered more disgraceful than dying peacefully in bed."

In other words, someone had to fight her to the death before she could claim that position.

Even if her opponent surrendered, they still had to be granted death to wash away their shame.

That was the tradition of Silverwind’s spawn.

"To everyone else, it would have been a glorious challenge... but not to me."

To her, it was not the honor of a warrior.

It was killing family.

Luri still clung to her attachment to her family, so the very idea of killing one of them was unbearable.

She never said she wanted to give up.

She knew no one would accept such a weak reason.

Instead, she crossed the greatest wall that protected the north from the endless frost.

After surviving countless brushes with death, she swung the axe she had mastered against giants many times her own size.

She truly became an outstanding warrior.

Her fear of Goz erased her fear of everything else.

That was how Luri came to be known as the Nightmare of the Frost Giants, fighting with overwhelming valor.

Thanks to her achievements, Luri herself became the symbol of the Mobile Brigade, Silverwing.

Her overwhelming presence and fierce nature brought glory to Silverwind’s name.

That was Luri’s life, both before and after she earned the surname Silverwind.

After finishing her lengthy story, she finally reached the main point.

"Today... I fell victim to a trick of the Demon Race."

"What kind of trick?"

"I heard... the voice of the younger sibling I had long forgotten."

Her voice seemed to sink into a distant abyss.

"That younger sibling, whose name and face I could barely remember anymore... suddenly broke through my memories with perfect clarity."

"Was it truly your sibling?"

"If you’re asking whether it was real... then no."

"It had green blood."

"Then it must have been a monster."

"Yes... I suppose so..."

Was it some sort of magic?

If it had been, Luri would have simply said she had fallen victim to magic.

But to her, it had looked exactly like her real younger sibling.

’An attack that exploits the opponent’s trauma...?’

Whatever it was, its purpose had been to shatter the victim’s mind.

Ferda wondered what would have happened if he had been the one struck by such an attack.

"But you escaped, did you not?"

"I didn’t escape... I was simply saved."

Biting her lower lip, Luri finally forced herself to speak the name.

"When I was completely helpless... Lord Goz came and saved me."

Goz Silverwind.

The very man she feared most had rescued her.

Ferda immediately realized that Goz was the reason Luri had become like this.

"If he hadn’t come... I would certainly have died."

Luri’s body trembled.

"Was it the thought of death that frightened you?"

"No."

"Death... means very little to me."

Luri had stepped into life-and-death situations so many times that death itself had become something she no longer feared.

"Then were you afraid that Goz would harm you?"

"I was afraid of Lord Goz... but even that is merely a familiar feeling now."

"Then what is it that has made you like this?"

Something far more painful than that.

"Lord Goz..."

"...Told me..."

"...That I was useless."

The person she had feared so deeply...

A member of her family...

Had spoken those cruel words to her.

"Those words..."

"...They’re still echoing in my ears."

The person she feared most had wounded her with those harsh words, leaving a scar that would not heal.

Ordinarily, Ferda would never have understood such feelings.

But those words pierced straight into his own heart.

What Luri had experienced...was something Ferda himself had gone through only recently.

’Erembalt Rosnova.’

Erembalt had pushed Ferda toward the deadly fate of becoming the Grand Duchess’s fiancé...and abandoned him.

Ferda knew very well that he had been cast aside.

But then...

The very man who had abandoned him returned...only to sever all ties with him once again.

He had already known.

He had never expected anything.

Yet the pain was different from what he had imagined.

Being abandoned a second time hurt far more than the first.

If even Ferda had been unable to bear it...how could Luri possibly be any different?

She must have been suffering even more.

No matter how terrifying Goz had always been...she had still considered him family.

Deep within her heart...she had undoubtedly believed that.

To Ferda’s eyes, she was no longer the steadfast Attendant.

She looked like nothing more than a young girl.

She had lived longer than him.

She was far stronger than him.

Yet all he saw before him was a child saddened because she had never been loved.

’She has such a strong sense of responsibility.’

After becoming Valdrova’s attendant...her relationship with Silverwind had fallen apart.

She had been abandoned then.

And now, Goz had abandoned her once again.

Ferda wondered if there was anything he could do for her.

Try harder.

Forget about it.

Move forward.

He knew those words would accomplish absolutely nothing.

If effort and determination alone could solve everything in life...then Ferda would surely have become a knight.

So he chose his words carefully.

If...I were to meet the younger version of myself...the one who was Luri’s age...what would I say?

The moment he asked himself that question...he found his answer.

Ferda spoke softly.

"Luri."

"...Yes."

"It’s okay to cry."

"...What?"

Luri stared at him as though he had said something utterly absurd.

"You don’t have to hold it in."

"You can pour all your emotions onto me."

"I’m not holding anything back."

"I..."

"You don’t have to lie."

As though speaking to his own past self...

...Ferda’s voice was incredibly gentle.

"I know how much courage it took for you just to say those words."

"..."

"There is nothing more miserable than wanting to cry but being unable to."

"Crying once won’t make everything fall apart."

"So cry now."

To break into tears...was to expose all the weakness one had carried inside and let it flow out.

Once you become an adult...there are times when you want to cry but simply cannot.

People say you only realize that after becoming an adult.

But Ferda had learned it the day he lost his mother.

The moment he realized the entire world had become his enemy...there had been no time left to cry.

Ferda understood.

People called it becoming stronger.

But without question...it was actually dying.

As with all things in the world...once something dies...it can never truly come back.

"Are you afraid I’ll tell someone?"

"..."

"If you’d rather..."

"...I’ll step outside."

Ferda began to rise from his seat.

The instant he lifted himself...something stopped him.

Luri had grabbed hold of his collar.

Her trembling eyes met his.

Something seemed ready to leave her quivering lips.

Instead...tears welled up in those cold, resilient eyes.

Luri buried her face into Ferda’s shoulder.

From that moment onward...

...Ferda saw nothing.

He heard nothing.

He did not even notice his shoulder gradually becoming soaked.

Her sobs slowly grew louder.

At last...

...Luri poured out all the sorrow she had kept buried inside.

After that...

...Ferda found himself in an awkward predicament.

He had no idea what he was supposed to do next.

He had urged her to let everything out...yet he had no idea how to comfort a girl crying so sorrowfully.

His hand wandered uncertainly.

Because of Mori, it had become a habit for it to reach toward someone’s head.

Isabella had once told him that patting the head of an elder was disrespectful.

Luri herself had hated it as well.

’I’m not praising her... I’m only trying to comfort her. That should be alright... shouldn’t it?’

Very carefully...

...Ferda rested his hand upon her head.

At once...

...Luri lifted her face from his shoulder.

He was certain he had stepped on a landmine.

He expected her to say something.

But instead...she simply moved her head from his shoulder to his chest...and buried her face there.

Then she cried again.

What could this gesture possibly mean?

One thing was certain.

Holding her like this made it much easier to stroke her hair.

Luri cried.

Ferda gently caressed her head, comforting her.

Little by little...the endless sound of her sorrowful sobbing faded away.

Even her quiet sniffles disappeared.

Silence finally settled over them.

"Luri."

"..."

"Luri?"

There was no reply.

Leaning his ear toward the top of her head...he heard the steady sound of peaceful breathing.

After crying her heart out...she had fallen asleep.

"...This is troublesome."

I told her it was okay to cry...but I never expected her to fall asleep.

***

The war that had begun so suddenly finally came to an end.

As soon as the siege was broken and the supply lines were restored, long caravans of wagons hurried forward, pouring into every corner of the Far East.

They returned alongside countless victorious commanders, passing through the village gates that had not even been fully completed yet.

At the same time, festival supplies arrived from Halim and the Pascal Trading Company.

Among Halim’s supplies was a handwritten letter from Ahmad Hashim himself.

-Congratulations on your victory, my brother!

It was a short letter, but precisely because of its brevity, its sincerity could be felt all the more.

Using the support sent from both sides, Ferda held another grand festival.

The people, whose minds and bodies had been exhausted by constant tension, laughed, sang, and celebrated their victory together.

The bards staying in the village began to sing.

The stories of knights that everyone had grown tired of hearing disappeared, replaced instead by tales of a dragon.

"Upon the Lonely Mountain, towering high in the Land of Demons! Crimson scales and golden eyes! They said an evil dragon that had taken countless lives dwelled there!"

"The world overflowed with misunderstandings, while the truth lay buried beneath them! And today, that truth has finally been revealed!"

"When the filthy hordes of the demons sought to plunge us into despair, that noble one ascended the summit of the Lonely Mountain!"

"Spreading crimson scales and majestic wings, she declared to the monsters of the eastern frontier!"

" ’The one who protects this Hestia! The one who protects the Cerdes Continent! That is none other than I, Valdrova!’ "

That particular ballad became the most popular of them all.

After all, weren’t the people who had joined the campaign the very ones who had witnessed Valdrova’s majestic figure from the closest distance?

Popularity naturally led to money, and for wandering bards who depended on their songs to earn a living, that meant a new trend.

As other bards hurried to compose their own hymns as well, dozens of new songs had been created within just a few days.

Ferda ordered Isabella to provide the bards with travel expenses.

Since bards wandered across the continent, they served as the source of news from the Cerdes Continent for small villages.

If they sang songs praising Valdrova in other lands, it would greatly help erase her infamous reputation.

The festival grew wilder the longer it continued, as though making up for all the emotions that had been suppressed.

Even as the night deepened, there was no sign that the celebration would end.

But Ferda did not join in.

He knew.

The war was not truly over yet.

"You need to stay sharp from this point onward."

Olivia spoke as though she had already witnessed an even greater evil.

After the war, Ferda and Olivia were meeting to review everything that had happened.

She explained that this had only been one hurdle.

Now it was time for a new one to emerge.

"The Emperor has made his move."

"You mean Godfrey Arken?"

"Yes."

"The man who gave me his blood."

Even now, she refused to call him her father.

"The Emperor himself is moving?"

"Not personally."

"But he has undoubtedly provided that incompetent Crown Prince with the means to act."

The original plan had been to eliminate all twelve colossal monsters.

However, four of them had been stopped by outside forces.

One was the War Dragon, Storeus.

Two were defeated by Silverwind’s Dragon Spawn.

"As for the remaining one... they say it was stopped by a human who appeared from the Far East Alliance."

"But no one knows who that person was."

"A human?"

"Yes."

"They say that single individual was powerful enough to completely overturn the course of the battle."

Just how powerful would someone have to be to change the tide of an entire battlefield alone?

’The Armored Knight.’

He had disappeared without a trace before the Festival of the Beginning of Spring, then returned and joined the army.

That explanation fit perfectly.

"So aside from that unidentified individual, we effectively lost four of the monsters."

"Will that really become a problem?"

"Our objective was the Far East’s complete victory."

"But four of those monsters were stopped because the Imperial Capital intervened."

"Once that victory is no longer complete... it loses its value."

Ferda silently thought it over.

Who would suffer the greatest loss once that value disappeared?

The answer came almost immediately.

Wasn’t she sitting right in front of him?

’She intended to use this as her stepping stone into politics.’

The Imperial political world was already dominated by those who had held power for generations.

If someone tried to enter that arena with even the slightest imperfection in their achievements, people would undoubtedly seize upon it and tear them apart.

"They’ll start making their move now."

"I recommend that you prepare your countermeasures thoroughly."

That was Olivia’s advice.

At first, it sounded as though she might be overreacting.

Surprisingly...she wasn’t.

The very next morning,

Ferda saw it with his own eyes.

Stepping across the ground where traces of last night’s revelry still lingered...a group of visitors entered the village.

The Empire’s knights had arrived.