Episode 65: Salt and Sand
Thud!
A deep, echoing explosion rattled Abel’s body. At once, he went limp. His groans and trembles—everything—stopped.
“Ah….”
Ruri gasped, her mind struggling to comprehend. This had to be a dream. She must be in her bed, and some demon had crept into her room to show her this nightmare.
But she didn’t wake.
The more she tried, the colder reality became.
“Aah….”
She stepped forward, toward Abel, and flipped his collapsed body over. His pupils had lost focus. His pulse was gone. His body was already growing cold.
She tried healing magic.
Nothing.
His heart had shattered. No Dragon Spawn could survive that.
Ferda must have known. He had no intention of letting Abel live.
The cruel scene—the cold, the snowstorm, the silent death—cut into Ruri like ice. The Silver Dragon Spawn was dead. Her father’s other child had died. And the man who caused it was standing right before her.
“You just….”
Her voice came out strained, barely above a whisper.
“Ferda… do you understand what you have done?”
“I do.”
Ferda’s calm voice was colder than the northern wind.
“It was murder.”
“This isn’t just murder, Ferda.” Ruri’s hands trembled. “You killed a child of Silverwind. You killed someone who carried that blood. Do you understand what that means?”
“I do.”
“No. You don’t.”
Ruri lifted her head and walked toward him, anger and grief twisting her face.
“You killed a descendant of a dragon. They will never stop seeking revenge.”
“I know.”
“They won’t stop until you die… they will never stop.”
“I know.”
“If you know that—!!”
Ruri grabbed Ferda by the collar, trembling.
“You wouldn’t have made this choice!”
Everything she had built—
Because of your actions!
Because of what Ferda did—
The peace we protected for Valdrova is broken!
It crumbled so easily.
“Because of you… because of you….”
Her head drooped. Her hands, gripping his collar, shook violently. Her legs wobbled under her own weight.
Can this be fixed? Can this situation be smoothed over?
She tried to predict what would come next, but there was no answer. Nothing could resolve this peacefully.
“Hah… hah….”
Tension choked her throat. She gasped, dizzy.
“This is… because of you.”
The words spilled out, heavy with resentment.
“Valdrova was already happy without you.”
She spat cruel words she didn’t truly mean.
“You…! You tried to enter her life…!”
But Ferda didn’t move. He only looked down at her, eyes like an adult watching a child.
“Ruri.”
“Don’t say my name with that mouth! Don’t—!”
“Ruri.”
The cold voice shook her confusion.
“Look at me.”
Her lost silver eyes lifted.
“Abel had to die. There was no other choice.”
“There were choices. And I made one.”
“The choice to abandon yourself was the worst one.”
“What does it matter if I’m there or not? You only care about Valdrova, don’t you? Wasn’t protecting peace the most important thing?”
“There was never peace to begin with.”
“There was! It was real! The peace I created was real!”
Ruri snapped, but a doubt clawed at her. Maybe she was wrong. She refused to believe it. She couldn’t let everything she had done be meaningless.
“Ruri.”
Ferda’s voice cut through her thoughts.
“Was it me who broke the peace you made?”
“Yes.”
That was true.
“Was it me who put my fiancé in danger?”
“Yes.”
That was true too.
“Then… was I wrong?”
Ruri couldn’t answer. She hesitated, unsure why.
Ferda killed Abel. Peace was broken. Valdrova was in danger.
So… was he wrong?
No.
A part of her heart knew it.
“You… are wrong.”
But she didn’t have the courage to admit it. Stubbornly, she insisted.
“I see.”
Ferda pried her hands off his collar. But they didn’t fall. Instead, he guided them upward, wrapping them around his neck.
Ruri’s eyes widened.
“If I am wrong, then kill me here.”
Her voice trembled.
“Are you… serious?”
“This is what I asked you to do.”
Ruri remembered. When Ferda gathered his subordinates, the last name he wrote was hers. He had made a request:
If I ever put my fiancé in danger, or act wrongly, don’t hesitate to kill me.
Ruri never believed anyone would truly want to die. Not humans. Not Dragon Spawn. Not even dragons.
But Ferda was different.
From the moment he killed Abel until now, his resolve never wavered.
She finally spoke the question that had burned inside her.
“Ferda… do you not regret your actions?”
“I do not.”
Ferda had thought, planned, and decided. Before acting. While acting. Even now, he was thinking.
The conclusion was always the same.
“No matter how many times I turn back time, I will save you.”
“Why…?”
Unlike Ruri, whose eyes trembled, Ferda shone brightly. A light she had never had.
“Because I have no doubt this is for my fiancée, Valdrova.”
The light gently touched her cheek.
“She needs you more than she needs me.”
Everything inside Ruri collapsed.
“Why… why…?”
Her hands, still gripping his neck, fell.
“Why… I lived longer… I served Lady Valdrova longer…”
Her voice trembled, soaked with emotion.
“Why… you, a human…?”
Ruri hated humans. Their greed always harmed Valdrova.
But Ferda—he was different. And yet she hated him more than any human she had ever known.
Why?
He protected Valdrova. He had the power to truly protect her.
And yet… she hated him so much it made her sick.
“Why… why can’t I be like you…?”
Ruri collapsed forward. She didn’t want to lean on the man she hated—but showing her tears was worse.
“Hic… Hngh…”
She tried to swallow her sobs, but she couldn’t. She buried her face in his clothes, muffling her cries.
As Ruri cried endlessly, a faint scent reached her nose. It was familiar, haunting. Long ago, a great fire had consumed a village, leaving only one girl alive. A man had taken her in.
This was that man’s scent.
Ferda returned to Count Consilus’s castle, Ruri clinging silently to his side.
“Thank you.”
“……” Ruri did not respond. Since she had begun crying, not a word had passed her lips.
“You should go back now.”
She neither agreed nor refused. But her hands spoke for her. She could not let go of his clothes. Lingering fear trembled through her grip.
“Ruri.”
“……”
“Are you afraid a war will break out?”
A small nod. It was more than fear—something deeper, but she did not explain.
“You don’t need to worry. If I’m right, there won’t be a war.”
“……”
“Go back to my fiancée. Act as if nothing happened. Prepare for the tea party as usual.”
“……”
“Can you do that for your master?”
Only then did Ruri let go. Without a word, without a backward glance, she flew away.
Ferda straightened his clothes and opened the balcony doors. The castle was already in chaos.
“Kill that demon woman!”
“Don’t just kill her—burn her with holy light!”
Angry knights shouted.
“Huwaaaah!! I don’t wanna die!!”
A pink-haired demon cried in terror.
“Wait, calm down and listen to me!” Jed’s voice squeaked in panic as he tried to mediate.
“Sir Jed, step aside!”
“Have you been bewitched by that demon woman!? Hand her over right now, you parachute knight!”
“I’m not protecting her! I was given orders too, you idiots!”
“Huwaaaah! Save meee, Sir Knight!!”
The pink-haired demon clung to Jed’s leg, screaming. Jed groaned inwardly. No job had been so humiliating, so regretful.
“Kill her now!”
“Huwaaaah!!”
“What’s going on here?”
“That filthy demon stole the gate meant for the Regent—wait… huh?”
“The R-Regent?”
As Ferda appeared, silence fell like a heavy curtain.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Ribs broken, fingers dislocated, but nothing serious.”
“That demon said the Regent let her in, but she’s lying—”
“Huwaaaah! I’m not lying!!”
“She’s not lying. I let her in.”
“So please, put away your weapons and leave.”
“Ah… if you say so, sir…”
“See?! I was right! Why call me a liar?! Sob sob! I’m so hurt!”
“Ugh, shut up already, will you?!”
Penelope was about to argue further, but Jed quickly gagged her with a rag.
“Anyway, I’m glad everyone made it back safely. I’m fine, so go rest.”
The commotion ended. Ferda’s gaze swept across the hall. Two people remained: Jed, sweating and exhausted, and Penelope, sniffing and sobbing.
“You two have work to do.”
At Dawn, Count Consilus’s Castle
The black sky slowly brightened. Twilight before sunrise.
Ferda stayed awake. His ribs had healed, his fingers realigned, but exhaustion lingered. He endured it, waiting.
Soon, he sensed movement—a presence approaching.
“My darling, you’re back?”
The Grand Demon, Sitri, emerged from the shadows.
“I was worried things had gone wrong, but it seems you managed somehow.”
Her voice dripped with mockery, but it carried a threat. Demons always seized advantage of such moments.
Sitri opened her mouth to bargain, to manipulate, to make her offer.
“If, by any chance—”
But Ferda spoke first.
“The phrase ‘if only’ belongs to those who regret their actions.”
He lifted his head, eyes sharp.
“If you don’t regret, you don’t need ‘if only.’”
The balance of power shifted instantly. Sitri felt it, unease crawling up her spine. Ferda was no cornered man. Not clueless, not weak. His confidence was not blind—it was certainty forged in action.
“Are you planning to start a war? Or break off your engagement with Valdrova? Either way, it won’t end well for you.”
“There will be no war. And no broken engagement.”
Ferda’s voice was calm, unwavering.
“Abel was a demon follower. That fact doesn’t change.”
“Weren’t you listening? There’s no evidence! How do you expect people to believe you without proof? They’re not fools.”
Sitri couldn’t believe his words. She had prepared everything—every card, every countermeasure. She was ready for any move.
But Ferda had prepared as well. Though his plans had crumbled with Abel’s death, he still held one undeniable advantage.
“Yes, there’s no evidence.”
But instead of proof, he produced something else.
A leash.
To bind the demon.IMTDIK 64
