Chapter 152
Bang! Boom!

The escalating commotion finally forced Romandro to rise from his seat. Pressing his ear against the door, his eyes darted anxiously. The chaotic mix of curses and loud noises made it clear something serious was happening.

Disgusted, Romandro called out to Ian.

“Is that… Beric, right?”

What if it wasn’t Beric? What if there was some other problem? What if the slaves had escaped and were fighting? Their own safety, sitting here in the office to purchase slaves, would be at risk.

But Ian calmly rummaged through the desk and drawers, nodding.

“It has to be him. The magic’s gone now, but I definitely felt Beric’s presence.”

“Th-then that’s a relief.”

Bang! Clatter!

“Ahhh!”

At that moment, the door flew wide open. Romandro jumped back in shock and fell over. Standing there was Beric, his hair wild and disheveled. He grinned broadly at Romandro and Ian.

“Ian, Ian, Ian!”

“Oh, Beric. It’s been a while.”

“Man, I’ve been through hell! It was so tough!”

“You bastard! Die!”

“As soon as I got here, I roasted a whole pig.”

“Good. But only if you clean up properly afterward.”

Smack!

A slave trader swung a knife behind Beric, but he ducked smoothly, using the momentum to spin and punch the man square in the face.

“By the way, Beric, why did you call us? You don’t seem to have any trouble handling this alone.”

“Ah, that’s because of Hasha.”

—Lord Ian! Lord Ian!

Suddenly, a white dog darted between Beric’s legs and leapt into Ian’s arms. Ian set down the papers he was reading and gently stroked the dog’s neck.

“Hasha. Are you unharmed?”

—Lord Ian, I’m sorry! I accidentally spoke human words in front of those brutes! I thought if I just panted like a dog, they’d let it slide, but no, I got caught right away! Ugh, it’s so frustrating!

“Shh. Calm down. As long as you’re safe, that’s what matters. Hasha, I have much to tell you.”

—I feel the same. Ian. But before that, Beric asked me to call you here because…

With Hasha’s words, half a dozen figures appeared at the door. They had blue hair and pointed ears. Ian immediately recognized them as Astanians.

“Beric, clean this place up quickly. You can kill them all, but leave the guildmaster, Pakens, alive. Do you know him?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Good. Astanians, come inside.”

“I’m off! Ian!”

Creak. Bang!

At Ian’s gesture, the Astanians hesitated but entered the office, all shackled at the ankles. Beric closed the door behind them, as if to say, “Just leave it to me.” Romandro grabbed a fallen wooden stick as a weapon and kept watch outside.

‘They couldn’t escape alone because the Astanians were captured. Even if Beric killed everyone and freed their shackles, if these foreigners and slaves were caught by the guards, they’d just be sold to another slave trader.’

“Hasha, you did well to call me.”

Ian’s praise made Hasha’s tail wag and thump against the floor. They needed an authorized imperial citizen who could manage the situation.

“And don’t be too shocked. Wesley is dead. More precisely, he destroyed himself.”

—What did you say?

Hasha’s tail stopped abruptly. The one who had upended Hasha and his grandmother’s life with forbidden necromantic research was dead? It was hard to believe.

“…The mayor of Karenna sent a letter.”

Ian gently stroked Hasha’s back and began explaining the whole story from the beginning, detailing how she had fallen into ruin.

Though in the form of a dog, Ian could clearly see the emotions she was feeling. The Astanians, who didn’t understand Bariel’s language, exchanged uneasy glances and held each other’s hands tightly.

“So, Hasha, you are safe now. No one in Bariel threatens you anymore. Wesley is dead. If you have any lingering grudges, use them as fuel to move forward and live with all your strength. That is the last way the living can avenge the dead.”

At Ian’s comforting words, Hasha lowered her head and slowly nudged his hand with her snout, rubbing gently.

Tears fell.

Ian gladly wiped them away with his sleeve.

—Thank you.

“If you want, I can send you to Astana soon. Will you go?”

Wesley’s death itself was proof of forbidden necromancy. Otherwise, Gale wouldn’t have made such a decision. Now, Hasha didn’t need to act directly.

—I was going to tell you about that. Do you remember? My grandmother was the head of the largest faction in Astana.

There were many questions about why such a grandmother hadn’t fled to the homeland to escape Wesley, and why the Astanians hadn’t sought them out. But Hasha finally understood.

—I heard there was a massive earthquake in Astana while we were running from Wesley. They were displaced by the disaster and captured by slave traders. Also, the power struggles between factions reached a peak during the chaos. I must hurry back and pass on my grandmother’s will.

“There have been more earthquakes on the continent in recent years. I even went to help repair the Grand Temple after one before I left for Hiel.”

Romandro, who had been quietly listening, added a word. Hasha’s dark eyes glistened with moisture.

—When I return, even if it’s not my original body, there must be a way to transfer my soul into a human form. Ian, I ask one last favor: send me and the Astanians back to our homeland.

Hasha bowed his head. When he spoke something in Astanian, the others also bowed deeply, pleading with Ian in their own languages.

“Hasha, I already made a promise once. It’s still in your memory. How can I say otherwise? Enough. Pull yourself together.”

—I have more to tell you. The Pakens guild sold undead to Karenna bandits. But no matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t understand why they used necromancy on my corpse. Listening to the Astanians here…

When the displaced Astanians were captured by the slave guild, they were repeatedly asked about their place of origin. They also placed great importance on whether the faction could use necromancy.

—It seems there’s a necromancer who taught them this knowledge. That person is probably in the imperial palace. Whether it’s just a money-making scheme or something else, it’s best to find and watch them closely.

Bang! Crash!

At the same moment, a loud noise erupted. Then silence. Footsteps approached, and the Astanians dropped to the floor, trembling.

Creak.

“Ahhh!”

“Ahhh!”

The Astanians screamed twice—once at the blood-soaked Beric, and again at the hair he was dragging behind him. Beric, however, smiled brightly and shoved Pakens forward.

“Ian, this guy’s the guildmaster, right?”

“Yeah. Good job. What about outside?”

“Probably all dead.”

“…All?”

“Yeah. Somehow.”

Judging by the way he glanced around, it wasn’t ‘somehow’ but deliberate. Ian narrowed his eyes and stared, but Beric just grinned. After all, it had been a week since they last met. Ian figured he wouldn’t scold him.

“…Alright. Well done.”

“Wow, Ian, it was really tough! Following the compass, I kept hitting dead ends. When I turned back, the path was cut off. I barely ate for a week.”

“Why not just climb over the walls?”

“I did. But I went further to shake off the guards. You said not to kill the guards. Man, it was such a pain!”

“…I can understand that.”

So that’s why it took a whole week. Considering Ian had taken less than a few hours by carriage from the palace, Beric’s performance was impressive. Ian decided not to assign him to any future pursuits and opened the last drawer.

—Brooch!

“You should always wear this before going to Astana.”

Ian fastened the brooch around Hasha’s neck, then looked at the unconscious Pakens. With all the guild members dead, he wondered how best to deal with him.

“The guards. They’re here. They responded to a disturbance report.”

“Hey! Is anyone inside?”

“What is this? My god, everyone’s dead.”

“Is anyone alive? If so, respond!”

The guards were stepping over bloodied corpses as they entered. Ian was about to intervene, but Romandro stopped him.

“I’ll handle this. Ian, you’re about to become Minister of Magic, right? It wouldn’t do to have any trouble. Leave it to me! I may not catch monsters like Beric, but I’ve made a living in the palace with just a pen!”

“Oh, impressive, Romandro!”

“You better wipe your face! If the guards see you like that, they’ll think you’re a monster and attack.”

Beric chuckled, rubbing his face, which only spread the bloodstains and made him look even more grotesque.

“We’ll discuss the details back at the mansion.”

“Yeah. That sounds like the best plan. What about Packens?”

“We’ll take him along. There are questions to ask, and he might come in handy. Beric, cover him with a cloth and carry him.”

“Are you going to roast some pork for me as soon as we get there, Master? Honestly, I’m starving right now. I’d be fine just dragging this guy along.”

Beric staggered dramatically, groaning loudly. The Astanians exchanged glances, then awkwardly stepped in to help. They insisted on carrying him instead.

“…Those who carry him will be given a drink as well.”

“Move aside!!”

At Ian’s sharp command, Beric swatted away the Astanians’ hands in an instant. Then, as if he hadn’t been groaning moments before, he slung the cloth over his shoulder and sprang to his feet. Hasha, who had been about to lead the way, froze and glanced back.

—Ian. But there are more slaves down in the basement. What will happen to them?

“Slaves?”

The Astanians lived in tribal communities in harmony with nature. They knew of slavery in theory but had never encountered it culturally. Yet, what was locked behind those iron bars wasn’t just a person—it was their dignity.

Ian was about to say something when Romandro’s voice came from outside.

“Hey, don’t go any further inside! There’s a high-ranking official in the palace. If you’re seen, you’ll be in trouble—that’s a warning.”

A guard paused as he stepped into the hallway near the office.

“There was a scuffle while checking on some who were illegally enslaved. Are these people licensed slave traders authorized by the kingdom?”

There was no way those dealing with bandits had official permission. And if any traces of the undead were found, it wouldn’t matter if a few merchants died here. Besides, they all seemed to be foreigners.

“Uh, that will require a separate investigation.”

“How could the so-called Bariel guards not notice a noble’s family member being kidnapped by illegal slave traders? That’s a clear failure! State your names and affiliations.”

“No, Counselor, there are so many illegal immigrants here, who has time to check every single one?”

“I know, I know!”

Romandro slipped some money into the guard’s hand. Being assigned here after a demotion meant the guard had probably messed up badly—most likely bribery charges. The guards exchanged glances, eyeing Romandro’s ID and their surroundings.

“Fine. Submit a report to the guard unit as soon as possible. We’ll verify the legality of the merchants. You’re saying there were illegal slaves?”

“Yes! And they were kidnapped!”

“Hmm. Understood.”

People had died, yet they were so easily swayed by a few coins. Romandro clenched the money tightly, trying to hide the tremor in his chest. The guard scratched his head and asked,

“Were all the illegal slaves members of your household, Counselor?”

“Uh? Y-Yes, that’s right!”

“Understood. We’ll provide a carriage. Take the victims and return for now. We’ll report back after sorting out the incident.”

All the slaves? Romandro turned around in surprise, only to see Ian shrug his shoulders as if to say, “What can you do?”