Episode 120
As the pollen signaling the start of the New Year’s gathering blanketed the entire Bariel region, Barsabe returned to the royal palace, soaked in blood and grime. The small mansion in the city center felt meaningless without her father, so now her only refuge was the barracks next to the training grounds, prepared for the soldiers.
Bang!
“Barsabe, my goodness!”
“Keep it down. I’m trying to rest.”
“Did you get into some kind of trouble?”
“No, I didn’t. Just mind your own business.”
Barsabe shrugged off her tattered clothes and found her uniform. The tattoo on her left shoulder marked her as part of the guard. Though her body was covered in fiery welts from a misfired magic release, the area around the tattoo remained clear and intact.
“I don’t have my gloves. Lend me a pair.”
“Your uniform? Why are you suddenly pulling that out? The New Year’s event isn’t until later. The pollen flare went off, but—”
Whatever Ian’s intentions were, there was only one thing Barsabe could do right now.
Play along.
He promised to hand over her father’s belongings if she came properly dressed and formally. She couldn’t refuse. After all, she hadn’t even been able to collect his body yet. Those items were truly the last traces of her father.
“You didn’t go to see that Ian guy, did you?”
“I did. And I got my ass kicked for it.”
Her companion pressed a hand to his forehead. News of Petreio’s death had spread widely even within the palace’s direct guard. Though he was a retired senior, Barsabe had joined the guard following in his footsteps, and with active exchanges between cohorts, everyone naturally knew.
The exact moment probably coincided with Molin’s near-fatal return to the administration. It was said that Ian had usurped the lordship by cutting off Molin’s arms and legs.
Most rumors implicated Erika, but Petreio’s name was certainly tangled up in the story.
“What about my father?”
“I’m sorry, Barsabe. Petreio fulfilled his duty as a knight to protect me from Ian.”
“But Molin is the palace administrator… why would that matter?”
“To a lowlife from the borderlands, it didn’t. Barsabe, when I was locked in the underground prison, I heard your father’s agonizing groans day and night.”
Barsabe frowned, recalling her conversation with Molin. He had clearly said Ian had tortured her father to death. Yet when she met Ian, he didn’t seem like the kind of man capable of such cruelty.
“You shouldn’t judge a person by appearances, but still… I have a bad feeling.”
“Barsabe! Are you listening to me?”
Her chain of thoughts snapped. Her companion held her arm with a worried look—specifically, her left shoulder with the tattoo.
“If you cause trouble during the recovery, you’ll be expelled without warning. You know that, right? I understand how you feel, but that man is to become a noble by the emperor’s decree. He’s not someone we can draw swords against.”
Everyone in the palace, except for Marib’s faction, naturally disliked Ian. Even the neutral direct guard had a negative impression of him after Petreio’s death.
“I know. But even if I get kicked out, there’s no one left to scold me.”
“That’s not important! And why would you recklessly challenge a magic user? They say he’s the man who subdued the barbarians at the border! Even Molin and Erika’s central army were no match for him. What are you thinking?”
Rumors in the palace spread in thousands of directions. Those who heard of Ian’s exploits focused on different aspects depending on their perspective. The magic department emphasized that Ian was a magic user; the direct guard focused on how he had driven out the central army.
“Yeah. Ian has a bodyguard who’s crazy. What’s so special about the border food? Being strong isn’t enough.”
Barsabe muttered quietly but sincerely. The fact she had accidentally released magic was proof. Even setting aside the tension from avenging her father, it was undeniably a mistake.
“I’ll let it slide for now. I’ll give him a proper look later.”
Whether Ian was responsible for her father’s death or not, she would find out. Having faced him once, she could approach the next battle more calmly. Just as she reached for the scabbard of her uniform sword—
Wheeeeng.
A noisy assembly order sounded from outside. All knights in the barracks, except those out on duty, were to don their uniforms and assemble.
Her companion glanced outside, then shot Barsabe a quick look. The knights remaining in the palace were wandering back to their rooms.
“Take off your gloves.”
“Ah…”
“I only have one pair too.”
If she had known, she would have just grabbed her clothes and left immediately. Barsabe frowned and set the scabbard down.
“Wow.”
Beric gasped as he looked around the ruined forge. The place was already filthy with dust and ash, but now the floor was blackened by some kind of explosion. The blacksmith’s long beard was singed and curled.
“My lord! You never said anything like this would happen!”
“Calm down and let me explain.”
“No, how could you not tell me when you entrusted this? It’s just a special sword worth one silver coin. The compensation is far less than the damage!”
They say ‘hope for the best, prepare for the worst.’ Beric had come just in case, and sure enough, disaster had struck. Ian kept telling him to calm down, but the blacksmith’s voice remained loud.
Because the sword had exploded!
More precisely…
“I heated it, but the temperature wouldn’t drop.”
He had heated the blade to straighten its curve. After thinking it was hot enough, he hammered it, but the temperature never fell. Frustrated, he quenched it, and an intense heat burst out, wrecking everything around.
“Hehe, my sword! It’s super sharp now!”
“Y-yeah, that almost blew us all to bits!”
Still, a craftsman is a craftsman. Despite the chaos, he finished the job perfectly, grudgingly but thoroughly. The client was at fault, but the sword was innocent. Beric rushed over, grabbed the sword, and swung it around. His eyes widened with satisfaction.
“It’s lighter now. Crazy! The edge is straighter!”
“You should get compensation and hazard pay! Honestly, how can you carry something like this without knowing what it is? Forgive me, but did you happen to find this lying around?”
“Found it? No—”
“Sorry, I mean, it was secretly bestowed by the family. Please understand.”
Romandro quickly covered Beric’s mouth, and Ian gestured for a check to be brought. The situation was more than understandable.
“How much do you want?”
“One gold coin, please.”
“That’s too little for hazard pay. I heard from Lady Vivianna you’re the best blacksmith in the capital.”
Ian asked with a smirk, pen in hand. The blacksmith’s bushy eyebrows relaxed a bit. Craftsmen of rough forges took great pride in their work. Ian’s compliment seemed to have hit the mark.
“I’ll give you two gold coins. Consider it a reward for the unexpectedly excellent result.”
“Ahem. Well, thank you kindly. I’m just glad no one got seriously hurt or broken.”
“Thanks for saying that, Beric. Are you happy with it?”
“Absolutely! I love it! It’s perfect!”
Beric kept swinging the sword experimentally. Romandro clicked his tongue.
“Tsk, tsk. That means no dinner for you tonight, you rascal!”
“Huh? What are you talking about? Ian said he’d buy me meat.”
“That one? That one’s a money pit.”
Romandro whispered to Ian, but his voice was too loud. Beric overheard, went wild, and charged at Romandro, while Ian calmly finished the payment.
“You did well.”
“Yes. Next time, please entrust me with something normal. I’ll do better.”
“Beric! Stop bothering Romandro and come out here.”
Creaaak.
As they stepped outside, Vivianna, waiting by the carriage, poked her head out with concern.
“What happened? Are you alright?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s nothing serious. It’s cold, so please stay inside. It’s best to wrap things up and head back for today.”
Ian said, glancing around again. Whether it was because he sensed Barsabe was the pursuer or just his imagination, there was no strange energy nearby anymore.
“Beric, be careful with that thing. It seems to explode if it overheats. Got it? Don’t just toss it into the furnace.”
Romandro pulled Beric aside, repeating his warnings. This was no longer the borderlands where Ian held power—it was the capital. The consequences of any accident were unpredictable.
“Am I an idiot? Why would I put this in the furnace? You put food in the furnace!”
Ian glanced at the forged sword.
It was definitely no ordinary blade. Whether made from magic stones, dragon teeth, or meteor fragments—there were too many possibilities to guess, but one thing was certain: it was extraordinary.
“Beric, swear you’ll take good care of it. Otherwise, for everyone’s safety, I’ll have to confiscate the sword.”
“Master? What do you mean? It came all the way here from Karenn without any problems. It just can’t overheat. Really!”
Can’t overheat, huh?
Ian’s gaze suddenly settled on Berrick’s fiery red hair and eyes.
‘Come to think of it, magic is essentially a form of heat and energy.’
What if he channeled magic through his sword?
It would be like applying heat directly.
“Berrick, when you’re holding the sword, you can’t let your magic flow out freely.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll do exactly as you say. I’m good at following orders, aren’t I?”
It was a situation worth trying someday, but not now—not here. And if something went wrong, they wouldn’t have the capacity to handle it.
“Ian, what are you thinking about?”
When Ian didn’t answer, Berrick asked casually. Climbing into the carriage, Ian tossed out a playful remark. It probably didn’t sound like a joke to Berrick at all.
“…I was just calculating how much meat you could buy with two gold coins.”
“Wait, is this my fault?”
“You idiot, if you hadn’t picked that up, none of this would have happened. And what were you thinking bringing it back? Do you expect to be interrogated or something?”
Romandro chimed in as he climbed aboard. Berrick, looking wronged, hurried up the steps, and their noisy outing came to an end.
And finally.
Ian woke earlier than usual to watch the sunrise. The luxurious uniform hung neatly on the wall, along with a new pair of shoes. Gloves and accessories were perfectly arranged. Mini, the servant, had finished preparing everything before dawn.
Knock, knock.
“Ian, are you awake?”
“Yes, just now.”
“There’s a lot to get ready. Hurry and change.”
Prompted by Mini, Ian got out of bed. Today was a special day—the day when the pollen blanketing Bariel would be in full bloom.
“Today’s the day of the New Year’s gathering.”
The day Ian would meet the emperor at this hour.
And the day he would establish a new family and rise as its head.