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Chapter 332
Nice to Meet You (Illustration)
Ferda, contained within, could feel it distinctly.
That Ferda's consciousness was moving to some deep place once again.
Ferda feared that.
Being unable to do anything was always something to fear.
"She wanted to become someone like a campfire."
Е n̄ ům a
A man's voice was heard.
Ferda knew that voice.
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When something like this happened before, he had spoken with that voice.
The difference was, this time he wasn't speaking but listening.
The veil of darkness lifted and the view revealed itself.
A sky packed with stars and a transparent lake.
Ёn̊ u m̊ a .і̃ d
The two overlapping, a place that felt as if one had come into the universe.
In that place, a man could be seen.
Black clothes, black hair.
And a refreshing smile that never left his lips.
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Enough to put the viewer in a good mood, he was a good man.
Ferda could immediately tell who he was.
Ě n ǔ m̂а. і̄ d
'Godwin.'
Gokma said Godwin and Ferda didn't resemble each other.
However, if describing their appearance, they were similar enough to be called twins.
'I can see why they said they don't resemble each other.'
There was a decisive difference.
Because Ferda couldn't make that kind of expression.
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Always wearing a smile on his lips, his two eyes captivated people's hearts.
It wasn't something possible with mere pretense.
The fact that he was once called Kind Godwin wasn't for nothing.
Godwin continued speaking.
"But before the Primordial Chaos, such a campfire is like a candle before the wind. She had to burn herself up."
He raised his palm.
Ё n u̇m а.і̂ d
With a wistful gaze, as if a single lantern were held in his hand.
"Everyone saw those tears."
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The man closed his eyes.
Even the smile he wore turned sad.
"Father burdened her with a duty. But she isn't carrying it out. Because she loves everything. Because she loves everything... she cannot make any decision."
The man shut his mouth.
W̊еb n о v е̂.l Е̌ n ů m а̊
In the brief silence, he finally made up his mind.
"I won't leave it like that any longer. Birth and death are the natural order; leading to that natural order is her role. For that woman to be freed... she must know that."
Godwin raised his head and looked up at Ferda.
"So will you help me?"
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What came from his mouth was the name of the owner of this body serving as Ferda's eyes.
"Sierra?"
Ẽ ňu m̄а̌
Sierra.
The moment she heard that name, the emotions she felt surged into Ferda.
"Of course, my love Godwin."
Sierra loved Godwin.
She was a true immortal, a transcendent being, a god who could look down on the entire Serdes Continent.
To her, the Serdes Continent was something so trivial and insignificant it would end as a mere pastime.
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Something she would quickly grow bored of and turn away from.
But within it, there was a singular existence that allowed her to become a single woman, a girl.
'That was Godwin.'
Her interest in him began with curiosity.
Among the 12 Dragons, his movements were very peculiar, and his purpose couldn't be grasped.
He was delicate, knew how to keep faith, and simultaneously coordinated everything well.
Eǹu m a
On a whim, she tried to kill him as a test, but he easily escaped Sierra's intent.
It became more and more interesting.
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Curiosity toward Godwin turned into affection, and that led to romantic feelings.
He was an even more special man precisely because she knew she couldn't have him.
Sierra gave him the Void, and through that helped him wield immense power.
Such a man died.
Wė b̄n̈о v̀еl̆ Е̂ň u̇ m̈а̂
Sierra already knew.
That the end of this plan was death.
"Godwin, your plan seems to have failed."
Only, that death ended up in vain.
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"Silverwind, that worm-like thing already noticed and threw its body. It made that woman bear the burden you tried to strip away again."
Having lost the man she loved, Sierra sank into sorrow.
Е̃num a.іd
"I'm sorry, Godwin."
But that sorrow was brief.
Her blue and dark colors gradually turned red.
"I cannot forgive."
She was the Moon.
The incarnation of madness and fear, the Goddess of Revenge.
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Sierra spread her hand.
In her hand was a small fragment.
Thoroughly blackened, it was closer to a pollutant.
"This continent has no value. Those greedy ones deserve to die too. And..."
The deepest place of her hatred was one.
The one reason Godwin decided to die.
Wе b̆n̆ǒ v.еl̃ Е num̂ ā
"Valdrova."
Her hatred for her was the greatest.
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"That woman must not be loved."
She cursed her.
"I'll make that woman, who doesn't even know your worth, suffer for a lifetime and die."
She cursed viciously.
Е̇ ǹ u̇m а
She plunged the sooty fragment in her hand into a sticky, thick liquid.
'Swamp of Oblivion.'
A place where the moment you step in, you forget even your own name.
She shoved it deep inside, and the swamp devoured the fragment's black energy.
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She erased and erased the traces.
Finally, the black pollutant began to shine bright white.
Ѐ n̊ü m а
It was unmistakably a light that could be called a soul.
"So Godwin, my love..."
Sierra carefully held that light of purity and swallowed it whole.
"Forgive my selfishness."
What was created for her revenge was Ferda, himself.
'Everything was Sierra's plan.'
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Ferda grew up loved in a very good household.
But after his mother's death, the treatment changed.
His brothers always bullied him, but his father's cold reaction hurt the most.
She raised Ferda's life to a very high place and dropped it straight down, plunging it into the deepest abyss.
Endlessly betrayed, hating, and just when he barely clung to hope in human goodness, even that was made a laughingstock, making him weep tears of blood.
Even if Ferda was saint material, Sierra manipulated his life to be so ruined he couldn't live sanely.
W̊ è bn̄ о́v̆ е.l̈ Е ň ù m̃a
In the end, she made him destroy the young angel in his own chest with his own hands, turning him into a mage mad with slaughter.
Because hatred was Sierra herself, and the source of power.
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Ferda easily became an 8th Circle Archmage.
'And the revenge began in earnest.'
Purposeless anger and hatred, and power.
All of it was to erase Ferda's doubts.
W е̂bǹ о vėl Е̂ n̂ üm̂ а
So he wouldn't think he would become the sharp spear that would tear out Valdrova's heart.
But Sierra's spear gained a self, and wished to become the shield of the one it should pierce.
Sierra's wish transcended time; thus she made it unavoidable by any means.
Some call it fate.
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Sierra would move to kill Valdrova using the tool called Ferda.
'I can't let that happen.'
Ŵ е̄b̈ n о vеl Е̄ ǹ.u̇ m а̃
At some point, Ferda separated from Sierra.
It wasn't by Ferda's will.
Sierra looked at Ferda and spoke to him.
"You've disappointed me so much, child."
Sierra spread her index finger and stabbed Ferda's chest.
"You're not needed anymore."
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At that moment, Ferda fell somewhere deep, as if drawn by gravity.
Ferda felt it distinctly.
That the initiative over his flesh was being pushed away.
Something that had been dwelling in his body since long ago was rising up and replacing him.
A part of himself was finding its ego as the Essence of Vitality.
'No.'
Ӗn̆ um̂ a
Ferda resisted desperately.
The malice caught Ferda trying to rise again and dragged him to the floor.
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As if all karma was returning, there was no way for Ferda to escape that malice.
'Valdrova...'
The name that comes to mind first at the moment of death.
The foolish woman who tore out her own heart to give to him, wishing for his happiness.
Е́ n̄ ǔ må
If he closes his eyes, her heart will be torn out again.
'Please.'
He earnestly wished.
Then a single ray of light manifested at Ferda's fingertips.
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A magic circle of a circular shape.
But it was a peculiar magic circle drawn with runes and complex lines without geometric structure.
Ẃ е̃ b̆ n о v̈ е̊ l̆ Е̌nŭ m̃ а
'This is...'
Ferda knows.
The magic circle that almost killed Echidna and created a connection with Lucy Philiaz.
The magic circle he drew when agonizing over his fate.
That is exerting its power again at this very moment.
That magic circle was speaking.
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Saying to speak what he desires.
Therefore, Ferda answered.
* * *
The Black Dragon, Godwin, swung his claws.
He tore apart Sierra's form that tried to embrace him.
The brutally torn form soon returned to its original state.
Е̇_n ūm̂ а
As a transcendent being, she wouldn't have felt physical pain.
But she couldn't hide her face looking as if she'd been slapped hard on the cheek.
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"Why...?"
She asks, sunk in shock.
At that moment, Godwin's form shook greatly.
Like a candle melting under fire, then surging like lava to restore its form, repeating.
Е̌ ǹû m a
'No.'
Sierra tried to shape that form whole with a wave of her hand.
But every time her touch tried to reach, Godwin swung his body greatly and rejected her touch.
Sierra saw that and understood the meaning.
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"Why... aren't you choosing to live?"
Godwin was rejecting a new life.
Е n u m а
"Because you love that woman?"
Godwin didn't answer.
He neither smiled like before nor offered kind words.
The cold reaction pained Sierra's heart.
"Even after washing you in the Swamp of Oblivion, why do you still... love that woman more?"
Sierra whimpered like a girl rejected in love.
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She reached out her frail hand, demanding an embrace.
"I can do anything for you... Why are you..."
Godwin no longer directed his gaze at Sierra.
Quietly stepping forward was his choice.
He had already chosen, and Sierra could no longer pretend not to see.
"Right... if that's your choice... then I have no justification to stop you anymore."
Ӗn̈_u m̊ а
Sierra, having become a single girl, sat collapsed on the floor whimpering.
"Go to that woman... As you wish..."
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Sierra finally let him pass as if resigned.
Godwin, his body unstable, kicked off powerfully and soared into the sky.
He headed west.
* * *
Е̄ ñú m̄ а
Karma.
Karma returns someday.
It is a punishment that transcends time and space.
Ferda, fallen into deep darkness, was suffering that punishment.
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"Look at you, Ferda."
The man before him smiled nastily and said that.
Е̊ n uḿ a
Ferda called that man this.
"Father."
He was Erembalt Rosnova.
"Don't call me father. I never thought of you as my child."
His face twisted viciously.
Tears of blood poured from both eyes.
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"When I found out you were that damn cuckoo brat, I should've strangled you and killed you...! Like this! Like this!"
Erembalt was strangling Ferda's neck. His breath actually felt choked.
As he strangled him, two men entered his view and sneered.
"Hahaha! You stupid thing!"
"It's a very famous honey in our family, you trash brat. Have a taste!"
The bullying he suffered as a child tormented Ferda again.
Ŵе b̌n о́ṽ еl Е̇nù m а̂
Ferda realized while suffering such torture.
'This is pain originating from my heart.'
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Since he always held it in his heart, karma is inseparable.
The sound coming from Ferda's heart.
That's why they know Ferda's most vulnerable points best.
He can't be swayed by ghosts.
Е̊n u m̄ а̌ .і̃d̂
So he tried to close his eyes and block his emotions.
The sound became even clearer.
"When the demons came, you think our Rosnova family would sacrifice for you? We sold you out."
"You and that stupid mother of yours, what you did, we answered properly too."
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"A cuckoo, a trash eating away at the family!"
"You brought misfortune to us and thought you'd live a good family life?"
Ӗ ň ū mа̄ . і d_
"Hahahahaha!!!"
"Hahahahaha!!!"
It felt like several hours had passed subjectively.
The voices tormenting him gradually decreased.
"Why..."
Instead, a new voice rang in his ears.
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"Why don't you love me?"
Henri Dandolo and Tilda Pascal.
Tilda sat in a chair, her soul gone, and Henri was holding Tilda's arm.
"Empty, truly empty!"
Henri strangled Tilda's neck.
Tilda tried to use Henri, and Henri loved Tilda knowing that.
Е̊.n̄u m̆ а. і̂ d̈
He loved her shell, but such doll play didn't last long.
The end of that twisted love couldn't be good.
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"You're the same, right?"
Henri snapped his head toward Ferda.
"What color was the heart of the person you love? No, did you even love in the first place?"
Ferda closed his eyes.
Ẇ.еb̈ nо̊v ẽl Е̄ nũ_ma
'That's my imagination.'
He hadn't properly heard Henri Dandolo's end.
He avoided it, not wanting to confirm this anxiety in his heart.
Like an unturned card can never be known, he shouldn't attach significance to it.
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But the malice tormented Ferda without rest.
Ignoring sight and hearing, now it touched tactile sense.
Е̂ ň ùm̌ а. ï d
In both his hands, he felt something large and vigorously moving.
'Heart.'
The beating felt when he took out Valdrova's heart flowed into his palm.
What flowed in the heart was not blood but black, sticky liquids.
The gushing liquid became hands, repeatedly gripping, twisting, and tearing at Ferda's flesh.
It seemed the countless malice he sowed returned to Ferda, just waiting for him to submit.
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Ferda struggled to escape.
Pain isn't something you get used to.
No living thing is designed to enjoy suffering.
Ferda was the same.
To distance himself from such pain, he avoided, fought, and hated.
The anxiety hidden in his heart demanded the powerless Ferda submit.
Еn u ḿа̃
He needed something to endure.
'Valdrova...'
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When he imagined her, she soon appeared.
Red hair and two pairs of horns.
Only she wasn't smiling, weeping tears of blood.
Her chest still bore the mark where her heart was gouged out.
Е̊n_u m̂а .і d̊
"You've deceived me all this time, Ferda..."
She shook her head.
"No, Godwin..."
First time seeing it.
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Her face hating and raging at someone so much.
And never imagined that someone would be himself.
Е̇ ṅǔm̊а̇
"I think it's fortunate."
She wrapped her arms around her belly and laughed maniacally.
"Because I don't think I want to bear a bastard like you's child."
"Aah..."
Those words tore Ferda's heart.
His breathing roughened, and composure was no longer meaningful.
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'That's not Valdrova.'
But his crumbling mind was collapsing.
'But it'll become the future.'
The fiancé he accepted turned out to be his trauma.
Knowing what emotions Valdrova felt, he couldn't dismiss that reaction as delusion.
'I don't know anymore either.'
W̌_е.b n̊о v еl Ѐn̊ umа
Ferda's mind and body were already exhausted to make correct judgments.
Even thinking of Valdrova no longer gave strength.
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So the doubt he'd kept pushing away surged up.
'How long can I love her?'
Ferda revisited everything he'd met and felt with her.
Like taking out stored paintings one by one, he examined them.
Е̃ n ŭ m ӓ
'What did I feel back then?'
That was surely what he called love.
Now?
Ferda couldn't answer refreshingly.
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Maybe it wasn't love.
Maybe it was just lust that couldn't overcome blood, something that would evaporate and disappear someday.
Е ǹù ṁа̊
Such suspicion seemed to swallow Ferda even deeper.
'Everything... is meaningless.'
It was the same.
When he killed her, he had these thoughts too.
Emotions are like that.
Obsess and fall deep, then when they disappear, everything becomes meaningless.
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Love is like that too.
There is no flame that burns forever in the world.
If passion fades, what remains?
That was when.
The soul's wail trying to kill Ferda was growing distant.
The faint light source made the tormenting forms blurry like a mirage and approached.
Е̇ ñū m̈а
The first thing visible was a lantern.
"I wondered where you were, you were here?"
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Ferda doubted his eyes seeing the person holding that lantern.
'Valdrova?'
Red hair and two pairs of horns.
Even the incredibly bright expression was Valdrova herself.
Ěn ü m̄ ȧ
'No. It's not...'
But it wasn't Valdrova herself.
Because what's visible now is just a girl who only reaches his waist.
That girl pierced through the abyss's malice, found him, and waved her hand gladly.
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"Nice to meet you, Dad. I came to get you."
