Episode 1000

The morning of the coronation, inside the main palace.

“Have the gates been opened?”

“Yes, just now.”

“Oh dear, let’s hurry. Bring the sword oil.”

“Passing through. Thank you.”

Ian tilted his head, listening to the commotion outside. The attendants were brushing his hair and adjusting his accessories back and forth. To him, the differences seemed minor, but the attendants kept exchanging glances, clearly still undecided.

“Long platinum hair—this style suits better after all.”

“But for blue eyes, white accessories are a must.”

“Ah, I wish I could wear both…”

“How much time do we have left?”

“One hour.”

One attendant answered as he draped a cloak over Ian’s shoulders.

Ian checked himself in the mirror and smiled. It was his second time preparing for this moment, and though the feeling was new, it was mostly because it reminded him of Jin.

‘This is the very cloak Jin used.’

When Jin Verosion ascended the throne, this cloak had draped his shoulders.

Ian carefully grasped the cloak, examining it. The red fabric was embroidered with golden thread, depicting the history of Bariel in intricate detail. Over the past hundred years, from Jin to Ian, a few new images had been added.

Knock knock.

Someone approached outside the door.

“Excuse me, it’s almost time to depart.”

“Oh, already?”

It was Naum, the Minister of Magic, dressed sharply with his hair neatly tied back.

As the attendants hurried to finish Ian’s attire, Ian and Naum exchanged smiles. Everything from last night felt like a dream—a dream they had shared.

“All set!”

Ian stepped out slowly. The mages and administrative staff waiting in the hallway looked at him with reverence. Their eyes were filled with awe, as if words failed them.

Ian felt their emotions fully and nodded.

“Go.”

At once, everyone placed a hand over their hearts. The three commanders, including Beric, saluted in return.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

As Ian walked down the corridor, he glanced up again at Jin’s portrait. How wonderful it would be if you could see this, he thought. Would you feel the same emotions I did at your own coronation?

Turning his gaze forward, Ian felt Jin’s eyes watching over him from behind.

Buuuu—buu—

Trumpets sounded from all directions. Everyone in the palace followed the path Ian took.

Shaaah.

With every gust of wind, Ian struggled to suppress an inexplicable emotion. He tried recalling his own first coronation to stir his feelings, but surprisingly, he remembered nothing.

Perhaps because it never happened in this timeline, or maybe Jin’s Bariel was so radiant it overshadowed all else.

‘Everything from my first coronation is so faint.’

“Your Majesty.”

Ian nodded at Naum’s call. Then—

Creak.

The massive doors of the banquet hall swung open, and the grand music of the palace orchestra poured out.

Everyone seated on both the first and second floors rose, bowing respectfully to Ian. With each step he took, his long cloak rippled like waves. Then—

Ziiing. Ziiing.

A golden aura shimmered around him. As if announcing the presence of a divine being to the world, Ian’s surroundings brightened and sparkled brilliantly.

Naum led the way, holding a golden candelabrum, followed by Hans, who nervously gripped a dagger. Each time the ministers moved, the candle flames flickered softly.

“Oh my… Hana, I can hardly believe it.”

“Me too, Filia.”

Hana dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, while Filia and Nersarn clasped hands tightly. The children of the Klipoford royal family clung to the railing, their eyes shining.

Beastmen with their ears perked up, small frontier tribes entering the palace—this was a world where such things were possible. Guests from other nations, including Burgos and Luswena, watched Ian with solemn respect.

“Gasp.”

Among them, a noblewoman caught her breath upon seeing Xiao Xi, the Minister of Imperial Defense. She was the youngest daughter of the Davion family, known for her dazzling golden eyes and striking beauty.

Though she hid her face behind a fan to maintain decorum, the hearts etched in her eyes betrayed her feelings. Sensing the intense gaze, Xiao Xi glanced briefly in her direction before returning his focus forward.

At that moment, Ian reached the angel statue beneath the dais—the symbol linking Bariel and the divine.

“Holy water.”

The High Priest approached, dipping his fingertip into the holy water. Ian closed his eyes and extended his face, letting droplets trace his refined features.

Ian addressed the angel statue.

“My name is Ian Verosion. Descendant of Bariel, blessed by the gods, and heir to the imperial bloodline. I pray to the divine, and to the messenger I humbly ask—”

The music gradually softened, and Ian’s calm voice filled the hall with magical resonance. Everyone held their breath, witnessing the emperor’s oath.

Ian thought of the divine—whom he had met in the abyss, and as a child in Enerjes—a noble being who resembled himself. He clasped his hands and bowed his head.

“Let my voice reach the gods. In every journey under your watchful gaze, I have found true happiness. Even amidst blood and tears, I have smiled, and through that, I have finally reclaimed my true self.”

A rustle.

The nobles placed a hand over their hearts, silently pledging to the angel statue.

“Therefore, from this moment forth, I vow to become the father of Bariel. For the glory and future of this great empire, I will dedicate my breath and soul to loving the empire until the very end, as I have always done. Until the golden light fades, I will devote the rest of my life to the power granted by the gods.”

Ian lifted his head, meeting the statue’s gaze. A single drop of holy water fell from his chin.

“I humbly beseech that the blessings of the great empire, carried on for 1,196 years, continue into the future. Please grant me the strength to shape the empire as the gods desire. I swear this oath before the divine, staking everything I have. And if you do not wish for me—”

The ministers and mages tensed. This was the most critical moment of the coronation.

“Then strike me down here and now. If that is the will of the gods, it is also for Bariel’s sake, and I will gladly accept death.”

Though unlikely, if any opposition lurked in the shadows, now was the time to reveal themselves.

Shaaah!

The curtains behind the statue parted, sunlight pouring in and casting a long shadow of the statue—like an embrace holding Ian Verosion close. A sign of divine approval.

Naum, Hans, and the ministers bowed in succession.

Rustle.

Then—

“Huh?”

Someone noticed a flower petal falling on their nose and paused. Around the statue and Ian, a shower of radiant flower petals drifted down. The crowd gasped, looking around in wonder. It was the work of the mages—creating such a magnificent spectacle.

“…What is this?”

“How did this happen?”

“I-I don’t know.”

But the mages looked clearly unsettled. They had planned only golden light for the entrance to maintain solemnity. This flower shower was unplanned.

Amid the murmurs, Ian watched a petal gently land on his palm before vanishing. At the same time, he spotted through the shadows—someone sitting on the angel statue’s shoulder.

“…!”

A child’s figure. Ian looked up in surprise, but no one was there—only a shadowy silhouette, somehow familiar.

‘The divine.’

Ian smiled in response to the waving shadow-child. Though unseen, the god surely smiled back.

“Look, outside…”

“They’re coming outside too.”

Through the window, the flower shower was falling heavily. Strange—magic was at work both inside and out.

Ian glanced at the flustered mages, then nodded reassuringly.

Swish.

Ian ascended the steps and took his seat on the throne. Grasping the sword at his side, he declared, his voice ringing clearly in everyone’s ears.

“I, Ian Verosion, hereby proclaim my ascension as the 18th Emperor of the Great Empire Bariel.”

All the officials and nobles bowed deeply, blessing the new emperor.

From somewhere, a bell tolled softly. The orchestra resumed playing, and the crowd erupted in cheers and applause, showing their support for the new era.

“Your Majesty.”

“Your Majesty! This way!”

The mages dashed about nervously, checking the magic circles, while Naum and the palace guard captains turned to guide the emperor’s path.

Ian smiled, patting Beric and Xiao Xi on the shoulders before standing at the doorway.

“He’s coming out!”

“The Emperor is coming out!”

“Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor!”

Unlike when he entered, the hall outside was packed with citizens of the empire—transported here by magic.

Surrounded by palace guards protecting the new emperor, Ian reached out to them as if to say it was all right.

Shaaah.

The flower petals fell even more fiercely. Everyone rejoiced, cheering loudly, basking happily under the unusually clear sky on this joyful day.

Lord Ian Verosion. The first noble mage and emperor, a man of great honor. The people cheered, waving flags and scattering flowers in celebration of the dawn of his era.

“Wooooah!”

Beric ran alongside Ian, drenched in the shower of petals. It was cool yet warm—a perfect moment.

“Are you alright? This flower rain.”

“Yes, it’s not from our magic circle…”

“If it’s not magic, then it must be a natural phenomenon?”

“Probably. But isn’t it wonderful? It feels like a blessing from the gods themselves.”

“It does look beautiful.”

Romandro gazed up at the sky, his eyes sparkling. A true festival. This was the beginning of the Golden Age of the Great Empire of Bariel. One by one, nobles and officials stepped outside, welcoming the flower rain as if to receive the gods’ blessing upon their very bodies.

Ba-ri-el!

The dawn of glory cradled by the gods—

The heart of Gaia, turning golden when the rain falls—

Lift your heads high, and you shall see—

The light above, the beacon of Bariel—

The entire populace offered flowers to Ian, who gladly accepted their congratulations. The singing grew louder, drowning out even the church bells.

From a short distance, Secretary Jang quietly observed the scene. Then, from his robes, he pulled out pen and paper. On a day this historic, how could he not record it?

“The era of Ian Verosion has begun…”

Muttering to himself for a while, he carefully penned the first line.

Ian ascended the throne at the age of a boy.

And—

—The son of the border count was emperor. THE END