Chapter 122

The exquisite fabric was embroidered with intricate golden threads, leaving no gaps. The emperor was adorned with jewels so lavish they outshone even his crown, yet he looked like a withered old tree.

Deep wrinkles etched by time, pupils faded halfway to colorlessness, and a sallow, almost lifeless complexion—he looked as if he could pass any day.

“Looking at his face, I think I vaguely remember.”

Ian recalled him without much trouble. The emperor’s portrait hung at the far left end of the corridor, and the image was hard to forget—his unhealthy complexion had left a strong impression. Ian had also heard that despite such a frail appearance, the emperor had lived a surprisingly long life, which made the image stick in his mind.

“So then, after him comes…”

Ian’s gaze naturally shifted behind the emperor. Prince Marib and Gale entered one after the other. Unlike before, they were now dressed properly in their uniforms, looking dignified and impressive. The other princes didn’t even attempt to step onto the dais; they simply turned and left.

“The next emperor will have silver hair and blue eyes, with a scar running from the left temple down to the right jaw. But I don’t see any other princes here.”

Marib and Gale were definitely not the ones. Their features were completely different, and neither bore a scar. Ian kept glancing around, trying to spot the next emperor’s face.

Just in case—though it was rare—if all the princes had died and an outsider heir was brought in, he’d have to check even the dukes.

“Silver hair, silver hair…”

Still, silver hair wasn’t common. If he saw it, he’d recognize it immediately.

As Ian felt a sense of relief and slowly turned his gaze, he realized that Marib and Gale, standing on either side behind the emperor, were watching him. Their eyes held a mix of curiosity and, perhaps, suspicion.

“Hmm. Seeing them side by side, they really are brothers.”

They stood facing forward, unaware that each was looking down on Ian.

Ian pretended not to notice and fixed his gaze on the emperor. Only the nobles beside him looked uneasy, stealing glances at the princes.

“Why are they looking at me like that?”

“They’re not looking at us—they’re watching Ian.”

“Today’s real star is someone else, for sure.”

“I have no idea what they’re thinking. It’s scary.”

“Shh. Quiet now. His Majesty will speak soon.”

The nobles’ whispers abruptly ceased as the emperor took a step forward. His dry lips moved a few times before he smiled kindly.

“A year has passed in the great empire of Bariel.”

Though his voice was quiet and strained, it echoed throughout the vast banquet hall. It was a magical effect—his voice seemed to fill the space without any sense of distance. Beric flinched in surprise.

“To those who have labored for the empire this year, I offer my personal encouragement. Surely, the flowers that bloom next year will be even more radiant, the fields golden, and the returning winds warm.”

It was the emperor’s New Year’s greeting. The nobles responded with polite smiles and slight nods, attentively looking up at him. He recounted the major and minor events of the past year.

“The restoration of the temple after the great earthquake in spring…”

His speech dragged on endlessly, honestly quite dull. Ian glanced back and caught eye contact with Romandro and Beric.

“Boring! So boring!”

Beric silently mouthed to Ian, while Romandro sighed as if half his soul had left him. Ian smirked and turned back just as his name was called.

“The rebellious Bratz family from the borderlands has been exterminated. Those who oppose the great empire of Bariel and seek to foresee their future should look that way.”

The nobles lightly applauded in agreement. It was a clear warning that any family caught evading taxes or skimming funds would meet the same fate as the Bratz. As the emperor spoke, Marib glanced at Gale with a smile, but Gale remained expressionless.

Ian realized his own name would soon be called. The chancellor approached carrying a pedestal decorated with flowers. The emperor nodded slightly and continued.

“I hereby erase the name of Bratz from history forever and, by imperial decree, establish a new family.”

The nobles’ gazes slowly turned toward Ian. This was the moment he officially stepped into their world.

“Ian.”

The emperor called his name personally, and the nobles parted to make way. Applause filled the hall, accompanied by the palace orchestra’s melody, as Ian smiled and stepped forward. Standing on the dais, he could see the emperor’s face more clearly.

“How old is he? I know he’s lived long, but he really looks unwell.”

Ian knelt on one knee to show respect, and the emperor gently patted his shoulder.

“Ian. It’s good to see you up close.”

“The honor is mine, Your Majesty.”

“You carry the blood of Derga Bratz, but I recognize your contributions in suppressing the rebels for the empire. You are also undoubtedly a talent essential to Bariel’s progress.”

At the emperor’s gesture, Ian rose and straightened his posture. The brooch pinned to his chest caught his eye—a white flower blooming behind crossed swords in an X shape. This would be the emblem of Ian’s new family.

“What exactly is that?”

“I’m not sure. It looks like a white flower.”

“White, when there are so many vibrant colors…”

Some nobles sneered quietly, but Ian paid no mind. Unlike his surname, he had personally chosen the family crest.

“They don’t even know it’s a gulla flower.”

In the borderlands, gulla was an indispensable crop. Soon, it would be widely cultivated across Bariel, signaling the end of the great famine. To firmly establish that achievement as his own, Ian had chosen the gulla flower as his family emblem.

In time, this white flower would become the empire’s most honorable symbol.

“Therefore, I confer upon you the title of Viscount Hielo.”

Ian Hielo.

That was his new name. He bowed gracefully, accepting the honor.

“Hielo? That sounds familiar.”

Though the name rang a bell, he couldn’t quite place it. It didn’t seem to be a noble family name—more like something he’d overheard somewhere.

Hielo, Hielo.

Ian repeated his new surname as he received his title.

“For the glory of Bariel.”

“For the glory of Bariel.”

Placing his hand over his chest, Ian pledged his loyalty to the emperor. Marib, watching from behind, smiled warmly and applauded. Gale did the same, though more formally. The hall filled with the shimmering light of spirits, drifting like flower petals.

Clap, clap, clap.

“Congratulations, Viscount Ian Hielo.”

“Thank you, Viscount Hawkman.”

“Oh, you know me?”

“More precisely, I know your son, Sir Furlan. His humanism has helped me greatly.”

“Glad to hear it. I am Marquis Hainis.”

“Your Grace, it’s an honor to meet you.”

As Ian stepped down, the nobles’ attitudes softened somewhat. Just because he had received a name from the emperor, nothing about Ian himself had changed. Of course, many still whispered behind his back, unwilling to approach, but it was clear Ian was now the center of the social scene.

“Next, we honor those who distinguished themselves in the Battle of Roxanne: Hale, Tommy, and Nakina of the Magic Department.”

Ian’s turn was over, but the New Year’s celebration continued. Many knights who had earned merit in various battles were recognized, and some nobles were promoted. As the congratulations for Ian gradually subsided, he quietly stepped back.

“Ian! Over here!”

“Master Ian Hielo~!”

“Now you’re a real viscount. Congratulations, nobleman!”

Romandro and Beric seemed to have come looking for him, and they met easily. Their whispered congratulations and joyful expressions were heartwarming. Ian smiled and nodded.

“The magic power verification ceremony will take some time.”

“Yeah. Now I can just stand and watch. It’s a relief.”

Unlike Ian, whose status had completely changed, others used the stairs beside the dais rather than the central red carpet to ascend.

“By the way, Romandro.”

“Hmm?”

They hadn’t noticed before because they’d gone straight in through the entrance. On the second floor above the door, groups of women were seated, watching the New Year’s celebration.

“Are those the emperor’s concubines?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

The boundaries were strictly drawn. Apart from the emperor, empress, and princes, the rest of the family stood a step back from the center of power.

“Ah. Silver hair.”

Ian spotted a woman among them with silver hair, her hair elegantly twisted up. She carried herself with such dignity that she seemed to hold a high rank even among the concubines. Ian quietly called Romandro over again.

“Do you know who that silver-haired concubine is?”

“Who? Silver hair? Ah…”

Romandro glanced around cautiously before leaning in to whisper. The place they were in was quiet, with most people more interested in their own secretive chatter than the emperor’s words—but this was the imperial palace. Every word had to be chosen carefully.

“That’s Lady Dilaina,” he said.

Dilaina—the mother of the Fourth and Fifth Princes, and currently the only consort who stood by the emperor’s side, assisting him directly. The other consorts had married him for political reasons and rarely interacted with the aging emperor, who seemed close to death.

But Dilaina, with her sons to protect, clung to whatever influence she could muster. She served the emperor personally and took an active role in managing palace affairs.

“She was the one who prepared this New Year’s gathering on behalf of His Majesty. She handles all sorts of internal matters, filling the void left by the empress.”

Dilaina had silver hair.

Which meant…

“Do her sons have silver hair, too?”

“Hm? Yes. Their hair resembles their mother’s, but their eyes take after the emperor’s.”

Blue eyes, then. Ian was certain the next heir to the throne would be one of Dilaina’s sons. The question was which one—the Fourth or the Fifth Prince.

‘With the First and Second Princes already pushed aside from the throne, the order between the Fourth and Fifth doesn’t really matter.’

Ian kept his gaze upward, scanning for any sign of the princes.

Then—

“…!”

A boy of about ten appeared beside Dilaina. Ian immediately recognized him as the young man from the emperor’s portrait. This child would grow into the figure in that painting.

“Romandro, um…”

Ian was about to ask if this boy was the Fourth or Fifth Prince when another boy, identical in appearance, appeared. Romandro glanced up casually and replied,

“Ah, yes. The Fourth and Fifth Princes are twins.”