Chapter 137
Ian returned to the Ministry of Magic. Perhaps due to the aftermath of the induction ceremony, the main building was unusually quiet, and the usual bustle was barely noticeable. Though a century had passed, little had changed—except that where the annex once stood, a garden now flourished, letting in more sunlight.
Tap, tap.
There had to be differences in the information.
Inside and outside the Ministry, and even among the inner circle, the depth of knowledge granted to the few at the top inevitably varied. Before meeting Gale, Ian intended to check if there was any information beyond the public knowledge about the magic stones and necromancy.
‘Luron probably won’t arrive at the palace until after sunset.’
Inside the Magic Support Department, Ian caught the sound of voices. Only a few were on duty, lingering at their posts. They were removing their robes, their faces twisted with irritation as they repeatedly twirled their pens. The sudden orders from above had clearly ruffled feathers.
“Summon the necromancers? Out of the blue?”
“Right? Some of them must have already left the palace. How can they expect us to gather without any notice? They’ll throw a fit.”
“The funny thing is, no one dares to say a word to Lord Wesley. They only take it out on us.”
“Every time something happens, it’s discrimination or neglect because we’re foreigners. Ugh, I’m already exhausted. You do it.”
“Yeah, get lost. No way. I’m not doing it.”
“Enough. Just send the telegram magic quickly. Lord Wesley seemed urgent. If things go south, we’ll be caught in the crossfire.”
“Handle ten people at a time, starting from the top.”
“Wait, what did that guy look like again? I can’t remember.”
Stretching, they began casting the telegram magic. Instead of sending written messages, they transmitted colored lights according to prearranged signals to convey the situation.
Zzzzzing.
Orange light flickered in the hands of the mages, then faded like diluted water. The light must have traveled to the intended recipients.
‘Return signal is orange—standard enough. But Wesley summoned the necromancers?’
It was clear that a letter from Mayor Karenna had arrived. Romandro was told it would take up to three days, but if luck ran out, they might have to face Wesley immediately.
The route from the border to the capital was predictable. If the date was known, it wouldn’t be hard to figure out that Ian had passed through Karenna around that time.
‘I need to hurry.’
As Ian made his way to the archives, an unusual stillness surrounded him. It reminded him of the day he was dragged down from the throne.
‘That day was peaceful, just like today.’
The warm scent of sunlight, the cool breeze, and the soft, low chirping of birds. The storm that would change fate had arrived quietly, and by the time he realized it, the water was already up to his chin.
‘The moment fate shifts is instantaneous. It just takes time for it to reach me. Wesley might feel the same. Though everything seems chaotic, it all began the moment I awoke in Bratz territory—or perhaps even earlier, in my previous life.’
Clack!
Ian entered the archives and looked around. The vast space stretched endlessly, filled with black boxes stacked tightly—useless to any ordinary person.
“Are you Ian Hielo, Viscount?”
“Good day.”
“You just had your induction ceremony today, right?”
A mage organizing the archives recognized Ian and greeted him. But Ian had no time to spare.
“Yes. Captain Hale and the others have all gone home. I returned to get a handle on my duties.”
“I don’t know how this will sound, but—huh, you’re surprisingly diligent for a noble. Is this your first time in the archives? Do you know how to use them?”
Instead of answering, Ian placed his palm on the wall. Without hesitation, he released magic. The responding light guided him to the location of the materials he sought.
Zzzzzing!
“Excuse me, I’m a bit busy.”
“Oh, uh….”
The mage awkwardly nodded and watched Ian’s back. They said he had Marib’s backing and decent magic skills—not an exaggeration.
Magic depended on incantations and rituals, but fundamentally, it was about the mage’s focus and ‘visualization.’
The clearer the image of the target, the better the magic worked. If the image blurred, the spell could fail or cause unintended problems.
‘No wonder the Magic Support Department is in an uproar.’
If a monster of a newcomer appeared, the department’s hierarchy could be shaken. That might be why Minister Wesley was so wary.
“Jealous. Tch. Life’s unfair.”
The employee flopped onto the sofa, grumbling irritably.
Tap, tap, tap.
At sunset, Romandro held a small box containing Luron close to his chest. The carriage jolted sharply, making him flinch as he checked if Luron was unharmed. Even if it was just a magic stone, it was still a precious, expensive object.
“Are we going further in?”
“Yes. To the entrance of Lord Gale’s palace.”
“Understood.”
The coachman, unfamiliar with the palace’s inner grounds, slowed the pace. Romandro usually only visited the administrative offices or Marib’s chambers.
Whirrr!
“We’ve arrived, Lord Romandro.”
“Ah, good. Park the carriage over there. We don’t want to draw attention.”
“Yes, I’ll wait here.”
Romandro scanned for any signs of life as he entered Gale’s palace. Guards watched him from afar. But before that—
“Lord Romandro, this way.”
“Oh, Ian. I’m just returning from the administration—”
“Wesley received a letter from Mayor Karenna.”
“Gah! How did you know? Did you come looking for me?”
“Rumors are spreading inside the Ministry. What about Luron?”
“Here it is. We’re about to bring it inside.”
Ian nodded after confirming the faint glow of Luron inside the box. Romandro ignored the piercing gaze of the guards and whispered quietly.
“By the way, I checked with the administration. The high-ranking official appointment ceremony is exactly one week away. The meeting usually happens a day or two before, so keep that in mind.”
“Thank you, Lord Romandro.”
“I’ll wait in the carriage until you’re done.”
“Understood. I’ll be quick.”
Ian lightly patted Romandro’s shoulder to reassure him, then approached the guards, handing over his identification and requesting an audience.
“I am Ian Hielo, Viscount of the Ministry of Magic. I wish to see Lord Gale.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but it’s urgent.”
“If you don’t have an appointment, it will be difficult.”
“Is it your duty to worry about visitors?”
“…My apologies.”
Ian’s firm tone made the guard lower his head slightly and let him in.
Normally, a viscount showing up unannounced to request an audience would be absurd. But Ian knew he was a thorn in Gale’s side. Since he came all this way, they might make him wait, but they wouldn’t turn him away.
Soon, a chamberlain appeared to escort Ian.
“Viscount Ian Hielo, this way.”
The palace was darker than expected, perhaps because the sun had set. It reminded Ian of Gale’s hair. Marib’s palace was bright and warm, but Gale’s quarters exuded the opposite energy.
Knock, knock.
“Viscount Ian Hielo requests an audience, Your Grace.”
“Let him in.”
The chamberlain opened the door and gestured for Ian to enter. Inside, Gale lay on the bed in casual clothes, greeting him. Despite the relaxed atmosphere, piles of disorganized documents cluttered both sides of the bed.
“I didn’t expect you to visit me like this, Ian. Are you here to share your impressions of joining the Ministry? Or did Marib send you with a message? You said it was urgent, so I’m intrigued.”
His tone was playful and light. Ian sat on the sofa and set down the box after Gale motioned. Gale’s sharp eyes immediately fixed on the box.
“I hope it’s a gift.”
“It is. It will surely be a gift for Your Grace.”
Gale smiled knowingly as he continued reading the documents. A gift for the empire’s second most powerful man? It would have to be something extraordinary.
“You’ve taken precious time from me, so don’t disappoint.”
Ian sighed briefly before choosing his words carefully. Gale hadn’t left the bed, so it was clear he hadn’t heard any reports from Wesley.
“Your Grace, I must ask you something.”
“I grant you permission.”
“Have you heard of performing necromancy on the living?”
Gale looked up from the papers, his expression unreadable—only curiosity, no other emotion.
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
Necromancy was performed on the dead, but the subject was alive? Seeing Gale’s furrowed brow, Ian continued.
“I came in such a hurry because I have something urgent to report. You must know that a few years ago, the Ministry invited necromancers to conduct research.”
Gale pushed the documents aside with a hint of curiosity and stood up. His long robe swept slowly across the floor as he moved.
“Minister Wesley secretly commissioned the necromancer to conduct a covert research project. The gist of it is casting necromancy on the living, and from what I gather, the intended subject is Your Highness.”
“So you were supposed to meet expectations, but you’ve done the exact opposite. How did you come to know about Wesley’s secret research? I’m not one to tolerate loose talk—I kill on the spot if there’s any deception.”
His warning was delivered with an unsettling calmness, as if discussing the weather rather than issuing a threat. Yet his gaze locked onto Ian with unmistakable seriousness, leaving no doubt it wasn’t empty words.
“I brought a witness involved in the research, and I personally saw the incident with my own eyes. You’re familiar with the small town of Karenna, aren’t you?”
Ian summarized the events in Karenna as briefly as possible for Gale, who frowned deeper with every word.
‘Wesley conducted secret research behind my back? That Wesley? How dare he?’
It was unexpected. Honestly, it was a bit surprising. Gale had always thought Wesley would just obediently follow orders, but here he was, stirring up trouble like a minister with his own agenda.
“It seems this all happened while they were trying to find a way to bypass the palace’s blessing.”
“And what proof do you have that the subject is me?”
“The fact that Your Highness was unaware of this matter is proof enough.”
It made sense. If Ian had come all this way to bait him directly, it was worth investigating.
Gale’s suspicion deepened. Why would Ian do this? Why come all this way to reveal it? If Wesley cast the spell on him, wouldn’t Marib be the one to benefit?
‘Could this be a ploy to drive a wedge between me and Wesley?’
But Ian seemed to read his thoughts and quickly added, “I assure you, Your Highness Marib has no knowledge of this. I swear on my life, you can use the antidote on me the moment we leave this place.”
Then he extended a box.
The real negotiation was about to begin.