Chapter 6: Just as expected, he wasn’t dead

“Well, surprising.”

Luri, who had entered to prepare breakfast, spoke those words upon seeing Perda.

As a dragonspawn and the sole servant of Queen Valdrova, she had a very sharp eye.

“Did you really open a circle?”

In a single night?

Perda nodded.

“That’s right.”

“A common human could never do that in a day.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m not common? But I’d rather you answer something for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Is this enough to prove I’m worthy to be her consort?”

“……”

Luri pressed her lips together and looked at him in silence.

The standard of potential she herself had set had already been exceeded.

‘No, he’s even surpassed it.’

Two weeks ago, when she had posed the challenge, she had thought the following if on the last day, pushing himself to the limit, he managed even a flicker, that would already be a miracle.

But in just two weeks, Perda had fulfilled the condition with ease.

‘Not even two weeks… he did it in a single night.’

The reason for that sudden clarity was undoubtedly her lady’s battle.

But what could possibly change in a human from witnessing that?

At most, he should’ve been crushed by fear and awe.

Besides, she herself had carried him to bed, fully aware of the pitiful state he had ended up in.

That he now acted so calmly, as if nothing had happened, irritated her.

“Why won’t you answer?”

“…It’s fine.”

“What is?”

“Your question about the requirement.”

Luri coughed hard and changed the subject.

“Since you’ve passed the condition, you may rest until the day of the engagement. Well done.”

“Resting sounds nice, but I’ve still got a long way to go.”

After finishing breakfast, Perda wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up.

“Is there a place I can practice?”

“Practice what exactly?”

“Magic.”

Luri shook her head.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have magical tools. I could bring some, but it would take about three days.”

“That won’t be necessary. What I need isn’t so sophisticated.”

For the training he had in mind, he didn’t require expensive or delicate artifacts.

“Just some targets will do.”

“Targets?”

“Yes, a few scarecrows.”

Luri frowned.

What could a beginner who had barely opened his first circle achieve by hitting scarecrows?

But for Perda, it was the best— the most suitable tool.

His training required a delicacy that no artifact could measure or correct.

And that delicacy was something he could already control on his own.

***

Luri led him to the clearing where she had spread her wings to fly to the mountaintop.

That place became the training field.

It was terrain meant for regular soldiers, not for mages—straw scarecrows, stakes with distance markers, obstacles, various tools.

‘Now I understand how she manages to maintain this castle alone.’

In just thirty minutes, she had transformed the clearing into a training ground.

With that kind of skill and speed in preparing a space, what couldn’t she do?

Perda, seeing Luri standing beside him, said,

“Thanks for setting it up.”

“What exactly do you plan to practice?”

“Mana control.”

Luri tilted her head.

“Why control it?”

“To use magic efficiently. A lot of it gets wasted from overuse, or fails from lack.”

She tilted her head again.

“That happens?”

“Don’t dragons? I’ve heard that all dragons, even just a little, know how to use magic.”

Luri nodded.

“That’s true. Depending on which sovereign granted us their blood, the techniques vary, but almost all dragonspawn can use magic.”

“Then you don’t understand what I’m talking about?”

“Exactly. To put it simply, what you’re saying sounds like being afraid of one day forgetting how to breathe. If other dragonspawn heard you, they’d call it ‘primitive.’”

Perda looked at her intently.

“So, you think what I’m doing is primitive?”

“I’m a dragonspawn too.”

So yes, she did.

“Well, you’re not entirely wrong.”

It was natural that there’d be a chasm between them and humans.

Dragons used magic instinctively.

Humans, on the other hand, had to understand it and work hard.

That the two sides didn’t understand each other was logical.

Perda looked back at the scarecrows.

“Can I watch your training?”

“If watching someone breathe entertains you, go ahead.”

“Then I will.”

Luri stepped away and watched from a distance.

Perda closed his eyes.

To control mana, one had to seek calm, approach the gentle flow with care.

That was the usual method.

‘But that only works for the blue circle.’

Most established methods were for that kind.

His was a red circle.

Born from emotional surges, it couldn’t be governed by the same rules.

Trying to control it using those methods would reduce him to half a mage—useless.

‘I must control what, in theory, cannot be controlled.’

An absurdity full of contradictions.

But if he found the key to mastering that contradiction, he would rule over his power.

And Perda had done it before.

He closed his eyes and let his awareness slowly descend.

Like sinking to the bottom of a lake, his mind reached his abdomen.

There it was—the circle, spinning tightly in perfect form.

He saw it clearly.

The mana spun fast, like a torrent during the rainy season.

One misstep, and it would sweep him away without mercy.

Cautiously, Perda extended his hand toward it.

What he was attempting was like shaping pottery.

Gently touching the rotating edge, maintaining its form, and drawing out the mana.

‘Extract it.’

A step that even with a blue circle took over a year of discipline.

With a red circle, it took several years more.

‘Back then, I bled to achieve it.’

That memory guided him clearly.

Perda focused on the circle and extended his fingers.

The torrent touched his hand and, from there, the mana began to flow—
as if his fingers had become a new channel.

‘I can feel it.’

Power rose from the abdomen, traveling through the veins, reaching the heart, and from there into the arteries.

The flow spread through his entire body, coursing through his blood as if carving a new path.

‘This would normally take a year.’

But Perda found the path with skill, and in an instant, the energy reached the tip of his right index finger.

‘It took me one minute.’

A one-year process, completed in just one minute.

Upon drawing out the mana, he moved to the next phase—forming the sphere.

Woooong—

The mana gathered at the tip of his finger expanded outward.

He could feel fine blue threads spreading from his hand.

‘Condense.’

The dispersing mana gathered a palm’s distance from his finger, clumping together. Soon, the condensed mass glowed so intensely that even someone untrained in magic would have seen it clearly.

Perda’s sphere was perfect—smooth, solid, complete.

Others always let some escape as bluish vapor, but his had no waste at all.

‘Normally, this part takes another twelve months.’

In total, a two-year process had been reduced to barely two minutes.

He didn’t get overly excited.

As Luri had said, it was as natural as breathing.

No one gets thrilled just for learning how to breathe; for Perda, it felt just as obvious.

‘Final phase.’

A task that took any magician six years.

Even for him, with all his talent, it had taken three to master.

It was the stage of the three cadences.

He looked at the mass of mana floating above his finger—a pure core, capable of transforming into whatever the user wished.

The first thing one did with that core was to throw it—the “mana shot.”

A simple technique—just launch the sphere.

But it also served to measure whether a mage was combat-ready.

‘Cohesion, speed, and accuracy. All three must align.’

That’s why it was called the Wailing Wall. Many reached the third circle and still couldn’t pass that test.

Perda himself had only succeeded after reaching the second circle.

He lifted his gaze to a scarecrow fifty meters away, the distance marked.

“Hm…”

He squinted and murmured.

“No, not like that.”

And refocused.

Above his finger appeared not one, but three mana spheres.

“Yes… this is the right way.”

Only this was worth it.

He traced an arc in the air with his hand.

The three mana bullets flew in a parabolic curve at the same time.

His target—the scarecrow’s forehead.

Bang, bang, bang—!

The compressed spheres exploded with force, and the dummy’s head vanished without a trace.

Perda smiled and murmured.

“Just as I thought, I wasn’t dead.”

Firing three bullets with a first-level circle had cost him half of all his mana.

But he was satisfied as he climbed the circles, his mana reserve would grow too.

He had even passed the practical test.

He no longer had doubts about his own abilities.

His training ended there.

From start to finish, the entire process had taken barely ten minutes.

***

That same night, Luri descended into the lair.

In her hands, she held a report she had prepared herself.

“I present the weekly report.”

— Go ahead.

Even though she remained secluded, Valdrova still needed to know how the world was doing.

Luri, as the sole servant, gladly took on that duty.

The queen listened to her summary calmly.

Thirty minutes later, the reading ended, and Luri closed the documents.

“That is all.”

— Good. Well done.

“It’s nothing worth calling work. Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

Normally, the answer would be a simple ‘No, you may go.’

But this time, the words were different.

— You said something I’m curious about?

Valdrova scratched her chin with a claw.

Luri, who knew her well, immediately sensed that her lady was curious.

‘Is she finally taking an interest in the outside world?’

Her eyes lit up for a second.

But Valdrova shook her head.

— No, nothing.

“Please, do tell me. I’m ready to answer any question from my lady.”

Luri’s eyes shone with resolve.

The dragoness looked down at her and, at last, spoke reluctantly.

— That one who’s to be my consort… how is he?

“Ah.”

Luri felt a sting of betrayal in her chest.

All that expectation, only for her to care about that man’s condition?

But she had insisted—so it was her duty to answer.

“The future fiancé is well.”

— He’s not uncomfortable?

“No, you can be at ease. I thought he’d suffer from the lack of servants, like modern nobles, but he’s adapting without issue. He’s different from all of them.”

— I see.

“So then…”

She was going to stop there, but her lips moved again.

She hesitated, as if unsure whether to say it, and finally decided.

“So then… I don’t understand him.”

— You don’t understand him? Do you mean he doesn’t meet your expectations?

Luri shook her head firmly.

“No. His abilities are outstanding. In fact… he exceeded everything I imagined.”

— A human you recognize? That’s rare.

Valdrova was surprised.

She knew well the hatred Luri held toward humans.

— So then what? Is he unstable?

“No. He’s too perfect.”

— And that’s not good?

“Of course, perfection is usually good. But not in a human.”

She recalled what she had observed in Perda over those days—

Especially during his most recent training.

“Humans learn from failure. It’s impossible for someone to be perfect from the start.”

He, however, had not made a single mistake.

Not just today—ever since she’d started observing him, it had always been the same.

Even Luri, who hated humans, had to admit his attitude was different.

That’s why her conclusion was clear.

“Because of that, I consider him dangerous.”

Something like reverence had been born in her chest.

As if he were hiding something she couldn’t understand.

As if he kept a secret beyond her comprehension.

She couldn’t allow someone like that to remain so close to her lady.

— For you to say that… he must be an extraordinary man.

“I don’t want to admit it, but… yes.”

Valdrova pondered in silence and finally said.

— Even so, it doesn’t matter. You said he came with a pure purpose.

“……”

— Then I will trust him.

Words that could only sound like excessive optimism.

Luri felt uneasy—but her lady said it calmly.

‘That’s my lady.’

Luri knew that—and that’s why she measured every step carefully.

‘I must do everything I can.’

If she couldn’t stop him, she at least needed to test him.

‘Yes… maybe it’s not such a bad idea.’

As she finalized that plan, the words she had used earlier kept echoing in her mind.

“An extraordinary man…”

Remembering them, the image of Perda returned to her—smiling in awe even in the midst of pain.

And her face twisted in disgust, like someone who had stepped in filth on the street.

“Lady, perhaps…”

— What is it?

“…It’s nothing.”