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Chapter 283
Common Enemy
She is one who cannot receive forgiveness from any direction.
One who must not be accepted.
Even keeping her alive because she has use is not permissible.
That's why Ferda merely intended to milk her for all she was worth and then toss her aside.
"Repugnant Short-lived Race."
Ё n ùm а̌
A curse flowed from Linne's mouth again.
However, it held no meaning for Ferda.
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"You said it. If you go to Hell, you'll fall into the deepest pit, and flounder in the Void, a bitch worthy of suffering for eternity."
Ferda's Shadow Hand completely wrapped around Linne's neck.
"I too am a bastard who will fall into such a place."
So breaking the promise is also without hesitation.
Е̃ n̊ǔm̆а . і̃ d̈
Even if it were a situation where he'd take a big hit from making a contract with magical power, Ferda would have done so.
For Linne, there was no way to live anymore.
She will die right here.
Amidst such certainty circulating,
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"If you remember what I say, you'll remember this too."
What was engraved on Linne's face was a smile only the final victor could make.
W̆ еḃ ṅ о v̂ é l Е n̄ úm̆ ä
"I've always lived assuming the worst, you know."
The fact Ferda overlooked was that Linne wasn't such a soft elf.
It was a tenacious vitality that even Ferda, who thought he wouldn't let his guard down, couldn't surpass.
The place where that vitality was engraved was her tongue.
What hadn't been visible until now is clearly visible.
What's contained inside is a Rune.
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It was a rune of the type that exerts its effect by being destroyed.
The moment he realized it, his front teeth bit down hard on that tongue all at once.
Kkadeuk!
The rune broke and the Spell Formula manifested.
It wasn't a grand magic like Self-destruction or Space Transfer.
Just a trivial magic where mana briefly sparkles, revealing its form.
W̌е̂b̆ ńо v́ e̊ l̄ Е ṅ ú ṁа̀
The faint light of a firefly.
'Signal Flare.'
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The moment that keyword surfaced, Ferda's hand moved on its own.
Before Ferda's thoughts could reach a conclusion, instinct moved.
Ferda's instinct moved the Shadow Hand, and squeezed with all its might the hand gripping her neck.
Ppadeuk!
E nuṁа̄
The sound of Linne's neck snapping rang out loudly.
The sensation felt in the Shadow Hand was also saying so.
That the cervical vertebra inside the skin had surely broken like autumn reeds.
But Ferda didn't believe that.
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The instinct deep in his chest, his instinct as an Archmage, denied that fact.
He spoke thus.
Е̊n̄ ů ḿ ӑ. і̃ d̂
That this woman had already escaped.
Soon, an anomaly occurred just as he thought.
After a moment, what formed Linne's shape fluttered like paper.
The thought of whether he'd seen wrong was also momentary,
It soon became a swarm of butterflies settling on a large flower and flew up into the sky.
Thousands of butterflies took flight all at once, and the Mana Suppression Cuffs fell powerlessly to the floor.
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Linne's figure vanished like a Phantom in an instant.
Ferda knew who used this magic.
"What did you see?"
Weight unbefitting a young voice.
When Ferda turned his head, there stood a girl wearing a Black Dress.
What couldn't be hidden by the thin veil was a faint smile.
Ë ǹǔ m а
It was Lucy Philiaz, the Mother of Witches.
"What I saw was your mistake, I suppose."
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"Was saving that Dark Elf my mistake?"
"Maybe not. You've made up your mind to become the protector of all women on the continent, after all."
Ferda said sarcastically.
Ferda's current mood pushed even the fact that she was a Witch with powerful strength to the back burner.
Е̄n̄ ù má
This situation where a Puppy doesn't know to fear a tiger couldn't be pleasant.
It was enough to grate on his nerves, but Lucy smiled and answered Ferda's words.
"How nice would it be if I could prevent the tragedies that befall all women in the world? The fact that I can't is truly regrettable for me."
"I won't speak long. Where did you take her?"
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"Don't ask. It's a place you wouldn't know anyway."
"That woman killed countless people and made the living unhappy. In this castle there are girls who were clearly victimized. Yet you protect her?"
E ňu m̄ а . і̆ d
"In the East there's a saying, All Karma Returns. It means all karma eventually returns."
"That's right now."
"Now is not that time. That child has something she must do."
"Is it that important?"
"Of course."
Lucy took a deep drag of the cigarette in her mouth and exhaled smoke.
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"That's something I tried to do long ago."
As she continued speaking, the atmosphere changed.
"But something I couldn't do."
What was drawn out from a voice like billowing clouds,
"Something I thought had become calm with the passage of time."
A blade nothing short of heinous.
W̄е b̈ ň ö vӗ l̇ Ӗn ũ m̌ а
"But my dearest wish that I never forgot even once."
Pajijik!
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Red current flowed from her body.
It radiated as if it couldn't be hidden no matter how much it was suppressed and repressed.
Only innocent trees and ground were blackened or turned to ash.
From that power, Ferda could clearly feel.
Е̌n̈ u m а . і̊ d
That despite countless years passing, she never forgot her revenge even once.
"What is that Common Enemy?"
"The World Tree's Destruction."
The cold atmosphere vanished like a lie the moment she answered with a personal grudge.
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"And the Elves' Liberation... that would be it."
"Aren't the Elves living well?"
E ńũ m a . і ḋ
"How can you say they're living well to those living lives where they can't even question their own lives?"
It was a story that had nothing to do with Ferda.
Only Linne's whereabouts filled his head right now.
"Then I'll cooperate. In exchange, can't you hand over that woman?"
"You keep wishing for the impossible. The one who made a mistake isn't me, but you."
"Me?"
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"Do you think I protected that child because she's pretty? It's because you didn't keep your promise."
Lucy said, exhaling cigarette smoke.
"Before that child came to find you, the first one she sought was me. Asking for protection from Demons."
"And you accepted?"
"No, I refused. That child isn't a Witch, and while she's a pitiable woman, she has too much Karma. Then she made a truly interesting proposal."
Her eyes looked up at the man associated with that interesting proposal.
Е̊nü mâ .і̀ d
"She asked for a chance to atone for her mistakes even a little. So I asked what she'd do. Then she said she'd go to Regent Ferda and ask for help. She'd spill the secrets of the creatures she made and actively cooperate."
"Did you accept that?"
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"That child's meaning was this. She knows she committed sins that can't be washed away even with death, but if she can atone even a little and lessen the sorrow that will be woven in the future, isn't it possible to help her seize that chance?"
"So you gave her a chance."
"Of course. Even if it's a task that can't be erased, a heart seeking Atonement must not be blocked."
That Dark Elf, Atonement.
W ë bǹȯ v́ѐ ĺ Е n̂u m̂ а̀
It was absurd, but Linne precisely pierced the essence Lucy possessed.
"That's why I put a spell on that child's tongue. Even though she spoke only the truth, if you don't keep your promise, I'll keep it for you."
"So that woman had nothing to lose from the start."
A conversation had assuming she'd run away.
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That means Ferda was in a situation where he should doubt all the information he received.
As if reading that thought, Lucy said this.
Е̂num̄ǎ.і̂d̀
"There's no need to doubt whether she lied. Me protecting that child safely means I showed no intention to deceive or trick you even a little."
Ferda wondered if he could believe even that, but recalling Linne's actions, he could understand.
That appearance of spilling everything smoothly while seeming reluctant.
That was probably because the restriction on her constantly reminded her of her situation.
She wanted to live even if it meant that.
"So the only bad guy here is me."
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"Isn't that fine? Falling for a bad man is like the destiny of innocent maidens."
Lucy's eyes curving like a crescent moon was strangely irritating.
Despite her childlike appearance, she tried to exude bewitching allure, making it unnatural.
"I should get going now, Baby."
Lucy lowered the veil she'd lifted and stepped back.
Ferda quietly watched her leave.
E ń ùm.а̄. і̆ d
"Nothing you want to ask me at the end?"
She asks, turning her head as if granting a favor.
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"None."
"Why?"
"I'm not a woman, am I?"
"Do you have a desire to become a woman? If you set your mind to it, you can become one too?"
W ѐ_b́n̈ о.ṽ e l Еn̆ ůma
"I decline."
"Hoho, what a pity. If you were a Witch, I'd have told you everything."
Thought she'd leave just like that, but Lucy didn't go in the end.
"Then just think of it as my whim. When I see you, my husband keeps coming to mind. Of course, that man was a fool who was scared of killing even a single fly."
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A voice seemingly soaked in memories.
The sticky sound of lips sticking together was heard vividly.
Wе bn̆ о̊ ṽеl Е̄ n̆ u̇ m̂_а
Something clinging to her eyes makes them moist.
"So I should at least give some advice."
"What advice?"
"Isn't it that pitch-black thing settled below your Danjeon?"
Shadow Circle.
Ferda felt like he was showing his shame.
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"That power has become terribly strong. As if someone forcibly kneaded and created it."
No, it's certain she sees it.
Her mouth speaks vaguely, but her eyes are sharp.
One might think she's even seeing through Goddess Sierra's interference.
So he closed his mouth.
He doesn't want his inner thoughts exposed more than this.
Е̃n̈ um̆ а̀
"Since it's not something you kneaded yourself, you'd think fearing it is natural. But is that really so?"
"What does that mean?"
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At those words, Ferda reflexively asked.
"You say it wasn't made by your intent, but in the end it's inside your body. Whether to make it your power, or bind it with someone else's power. Deciding that is your share."
I don't like vague speech.
But it just makes me angry that there are bastards who throw answers claiming to give solutions while not even knowing themselves.
W ẽb́ ṅо̀ v̈ е̇ ĺ Е̊ n̈ u_m̄ å
But Lucy wasn't that sort.
She was a mage well-versed in the Red Circle, and a Witch who became the best without being eaten by her emotions despite living long.
The words she left were like the North Star to Ferda.
"Then what should I do?"
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Ferda asks Lucy.
She willingly answered.
Е n ū ḿ а̊
"Sometimes you must fight even knowing destruction is predetermined. Just remember that."
Lucy Philiaz vanished quietly with a face of self-satisfaction.
* * *
Valdrova Castle, Reception Room.
"Is that really true...?"
Erica, sitting opposite, asks back with an unbelieving face.
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As an intellectual woman, she knows how foolish it is to ask again like this several times.
But because it's truly unbelievable, she couldn't help it.
"It's certain. Director Linne came personally and handed it over. She gave the manufacturing method too."
"A woman who cooperated with Demons suddenly becomes a Traitor and gives a way to kill Demons..."
She was an Elf who cooperated with Demons for a long time, and acted as a close aide until recently.
So one's head couldn't help but lean toward the opinion that it's not trustworthy data.
W̌ е b̀ ńо̂v̄ е́l̃ Ē n̊ uṁа
"Lucy Philiaz stood as a witness."
"Lucy, that Philiaz Witch also meddled and spoke?"
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"That's not it, but I made it so that woman would speak only the truth."
Then Erica narrowed her eyes.
"How strange. That Witch doing something good for others. And to a man at that..."
"....."
Е num a . і̊d.
"Still, it makes sense to some extent. That woman hated the High Elves inside the World Tree more than men. So if she can harm the World Tree's Elves, she'll gladly help."
Erica lowered her gaze and looked at the bottle Ferda handed over.
Her gaze contained complex emotions.
Water and Magic's Phase, Iorga.
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Unbefitting that name, she keeps falling behind, so a feeling of being unable to forgive herself surged.
"So how many doses did you say the potion in this Medicine Bottle is?"
Е n̂ŭ m̀ a. íd
"One drop per wine bottle, enough to fill 120 bottles total."
"Half of this must be used as samples, so roughly only 60 bottles can be filled. The quantity will be insufficient to check everyone."
"We must use it strategically."
But that plan won't go as easily as words.
Ferda never underestimated Demons.
Demons steadily expanded their power in the shadows since the Dragon-Demon War, and the depth of their roots is immeasurable.
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If the Root can't be pulled out, they'll hold their breath, wait, and take root again.
"So I'm thinking of recruiting an expert in this field."
"Who are you thinking of?"
Trying to say it directly, a reflexive thought of 'is this right?' blocks the way.
But no matter how many times I thought, the answer didn't change.
"Valdemar Golt."
E ň u m а̌
The person who can best utilize this thing is certainly that man alone.
