Chapter 103

“Iaaaan!”

Crash, bang!

Perhaps moved by the fact that this child had introduced herself as his mother, Philia came rushing down the stairs as if tumbling, and threw her arms around Ian. Fiercely, and warmly.

“Have you been well?”

“Ian, I’ve truly missed you.”

“It’s cold out there; you must have had a hard time.”

Ian patted her back with a smile. No matter how much she might have enjoyed life in the mountains, living alone as a woman couldn’t have been easy. During the day, she must have endured the loneliness of silence; at night, the fear stirred by the howls of wild beasts.

“You’ve done well, Ian. I’m really proud of you.”

“What have I done to deserve that?”

“Beric told me everything. Helping people in Gula, wasn’t it? Not just in Bratz, but even in Merelrof.”

“Mother, there’s no one here named Bratz.”

Philia’s smile grew even brighter at Ian’s words. It was as if she was hearing wonderful news. Perhaps it was the tears, but her eyes sparkled unusually, radiating an aura like the moon incarnate in the night sky, complementing her golden hair.

“Yes. I also heard you’ve earned the recognition of the palace and the trust of the warriors guarding the border. That you’ve risen to such a great position and are loved by the people of the territory… all of it…”

Her voice faltered, overcome with emotion. Philia wiped away tears and bit her lip firmly. She didn’t look like a woman with a sixteen-year-old son. Not just her youthful face, but the way she expressed her feelings revealed how pure she truly was.

‘It really makes me realize how terrible Derga was.’

What on earth had that man done to such a woman? Ian smiled gently and took Philia’s hand in his.

“Mother, the reason I could help the people in Gula was because you gathered them in the mountains beforehand.”

“Oh? So you were the one who gathered them?”

Romandro interrupted, surprised.

“You’ve done a great thing, ma’am.”

“Ma-ma’am? Please, speak comfortably.”

“How can I? Ian has been granted a title, but due to various circumstances, I’ve been careful with my words. But I can’t be so formal with you. Allow me to introduce myself again. I am Romandro, an advisor to the palace.”

Philia looked a little flustered but smiled happily. She kept patting Ian’s back, basking in her joy.

“Ah, now I can die in peace. Ian.”

“Please don’t say that. From now on, come live in the manor. The mountains are cold and dangerous. Even if I’m not here, Romandro’s men and the household will take good care of you…”

“You’re leaving in a few days, right?”

A subtle sadness flickered in Philia’s smile.

Truthfully, she felt a little hurt. Since Count Derga had taken Ian away, it seemed her son had been keeping his distance.

‘But what can I do? It’s my fault. I couldn’t protect my child from the count, so it’s only natural Ian would act this way.’

Philia ran her hand through Ian’s hair, imprinting every detail of her son’s face in her gaze.

“Take care on your journey. I’ll always be here waiting.”

“…Please take care of yourself, Mother.”

“Don’t say that. If you ever struggle, come to me. Then, I promise, I will protect you.”

Ian couldn’t promise he would return. After hugging her once more, Philia cautiously made a request.

“Just for today, will you stay with me? There’s so much I want to talk about. It’s been a long time since we shared a meal.”

Though Ian had just finished a banquet in Merelrof, he nodded readily.

“Of course, Mother.”

“Shall I make you some barley porridge?”

Barley porridge—his favorite dish. Philia smiled tenderly, gently stroking the back of Ian’s hand.

“Alright. I’ll just change my clothes first. Hayna, please bring whatever Mother needs.”

“Yes, ma’am! You remember me, don’t you?”

“Of course. You’re the one who relayed Ian’s messages.”

“Hehe. I look forward to working with you!”

Creak.

Just as the reunion in the lobby was wrapping up, the door opened and several warriors, including Nersarn, entered. Their faces were stiff, clearly still unaccustomed to Bariel’s harsh winter.

“Ah, Ian.”

“Back from another patrol?”

“Yes. You went to Merelrof, right? Is everything settled?”

“Thanks to you.”

Nersarn’s gaze naturally shifted to Philia standing behind Ian. They all seemed a bit out of sorts from the cold. One warrior muttered without realizing it.

“Ian, did you have a sister?”

“She’s not my sister. She’s my mother.”

“…Excuse me?”

The warrior asked in disbelief.

“To be honest, I’d believe it if you said she was your older sister.”

“Actually, she’s my older sister.”

“Are you joking?”

“If you don’t believe me, why ask?”

Ian joked, glancing at Nersarn. The cold had frozen the warrior’s expression, making it hard to read. But it was certainly not a positive feeling. The Chonryeo tribe believed Ian’s birth mother was dead.

“There’s a story behind this, Nersarn. If you don’t mind, I’d like to explain in detail.”

Philia bit her lower lip anxiously at Ian’s words. Was the trouble she feared unfolding? Was Ian in trouble because of her?

“That’s enough.”

But Nersarn showed no reaction as he took off his coat, as if he already knew everything.

“I suspected your birth mother was alive.”

“You suspected?”

“I’ve been here almost every day, mingling with the locals. The envoy who crossed the great desert returned alive, and many rumors have been circulating.”

It wasn’t just that she had survived.

She had led the Chonryeo tribe, devoted herself to rebuilding the territory, driven out Derga, Ian’s father, and earned the palace’s recognition to claim the lordship—a truly remarkable figure.

The locals loved to gossip about every little thing related to Ian.

“Even the story that your birth mother disappeared before the peace treaty. They said everything was planned, that crossing the great desert was part of your preparation.”

“Does the Kakan know as well?”

“Of course. There’s no way the Kakan wouldn’t know what I do.”

Ian simply nodded lightly. Then, smiling broadly, he expressed his gratitude to Nersarn. Even though he knew it was a lie, the fact that they hadn’t questioned it was a sign of their trust.

“Thank you.”

“I’m leaving for the capital soon, so I wanted to see you at least once. But I didn’t expect to see you like this…”

Philia, overhearing their conversation, hurriedly bowed in thanks. Whatever the situation, she had something to say.

“Thank you! For helping my son, Ian. I’m sorry to trouble you, but please continue to look after him.”

“You have no reason to be so formal with me, ma’am.”

Nersarn’s words made Philia smile warmly. She was a woman who had lived like a wildflower all her life—blooming in a gutter, perhaps, but still a flower. Nersarn couldn’t help but keep his eyes on her shimmering hair.

“Please, come inside and rest. I intend to catch up with your mother.”

“Oh, wait.”

Nersarn snapped back to attention and called Ian with a small exclamation.

“May I offer some advice?”

“Of course. Please.”

“Lately, the movement of the stars has been unusual. Especially today—I witnessed dozens of stars falling to the ground in a line.”

Was he talking about shooting stars? Ian’s curiosity must have shown, because Nersarn quickly added:

“These aren’t shooting stars. They didn’t fall in a flash but moved slowly.”

Ian hadn’t seen it himself, so he couldn’t grasp what natural phenomenon Nersarn meant. But coming from someone who had grown up watching the Milky Way across the great desert, it was clearly something extraordinary.

“Be careful when you go to the capital. Stars, like you, represent those who illuminate the world.”

“Thank you for the advice. But, Nersarn…”

Ian tucked the words into his mind and replied quietly.

“I don’t want to be a star. I want to be the sun.”

Emperor Ian, the pinnacle of Bariel. He showed his determination to return to that self. Nersarn seemed a little surprised, opening his mouth, then faintly smiling.

“If that happens, you’ll become very important to the great desert.”

With that, he slipped away upstairs with the warriors, as if not expecting a response. Philia watched Nersarn’s retreating figure and whispered cautiously.

“Who is he?”

“He’s Nersarn, the younger brother of the Chonryeo tribe’s chief and their strategist. He’ll help manage the territory while I’m away. He wants to return to the great desert, but there’s no one else quite like me.”

Philia nodded in understanding and looked up to the upper floor again. Then, gently taking Ian’s arm, she smiled.

“Ian, don’t bother changing. Come with me to the kitchen. While I cook the barley porridge, you can tell me what’s been happening lately.”

Every moment seemed precious. Ian shrugged off his outer coat and handed it to Hayna, then followed Philia to the kitchen. The cook had already tidied up neatly, having been informed earlier.

“Use these bowls. Besides barley, what else do you need?”

“Ah, salt, please.”

“The seasonings are down here.”

Ian sat at the servants’ rest table, watching Philia. She seemed a bit clumsy at first but soon began cooking the porridge skillfully.

“Weren’t you lonely in the forest? Now that Derga is gone and the territory is prosperous, you could come down and live here. If you want, you can stay in the manor, or I can get you a house.”

“I’ll think it over a little. Honestly, I thought I wasn’t that lonely… but after meeting so many people, maybe I was wrong.”

The comforting scent of barley porridge wafted gently through the air. Philia smiled gracefully as she stirred the pot.

“Sometimes, lost souls wander in. Just the other day, a group of injured folks showed up all at once—I was quite startled.”

“Injured people?”

“Yes. About three of them. They told me their names… let me see. Ricardo, Nav, and…”

Philia furrowed her brow, concentrating to recall the last name.

“Erica!”

“Oh.”

Berti Erica—the head of the palace investigation team who had been searching for the bodies of Mary and Chel. After getting caught up in a skirmish with a caravan from Hwan, all news had gone silent. This was unexpected.

“Were they badly hurt?”

“No, but they said they lost many comrades. It’s heartbreaking. They all struggled, unable to return home.”

“And where are they headed next?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure, but I think they mentioned Hwan.”

“I see.”

Ian rested his chin on his hand, letting out a knowing smile. Philia beamed warmly and gently stroked her son’s hair.

“The smell of barley porridge is nice, isn’t it?”

“It is, Mother.”

“Ian, would it be alright if I wrote you letters? On nights when I’m too worried to sleep, it helps me soothe my heart.”

Philia hesitated, seeking permission with a cautious glance—always careful not to be a burden. Ian readily agreed.

“Of course. Just understand if you don’t get a reply when I’m busy.”

“Thank you, Ian. My son…”

Philia embraced Ian once more, resting her face against his shoulder. Ian gently patted his mother’s trembling back.

“Take care on your journey, Ian.”