Episode 154

The moment Wesley’s influence—the kind that could make even birds fall from the sky—vanished, Sailor, the head of the Magic Support Division, found himself pushed to the brink just the same.

No, it would have been better if he’d only been cornered. But at the imperial palace, Wesley was branded a grave criminal, and the Magic Support Division was seen as his accomplice. Meanwhile, the other magic departments, distracted by their ministerial duties, turned a blind eye and shunned them.

Tap, tap, tap!

So, for now, Sailor planned to keep a low profile, like a ghost, waiting for a new minister to be appointed before trying to turn the tide. But then, out of nowhere, he was summoned—at dawn, no less. And the summons came from Ian, who still enjoyed the prince’s full trust.

Rrrr-click!

“Huff, huff…”

“Twenty-one minutes, thirty-four seconds.”

“Seriously made it in under thirty minutes? Did you use a portal?”

“How could he use a portal alone? He must’ve had a rough run. It’s been a while since he had to sprint like that, being office staff.”

Panting heavily, Sailor glanced around the Magic Operations office. Five division heads, including Hale, were already gathered. Ian set down his teacup and gestured for him to sit.

“Your dedication is commendable. Please, have a seat, Captain Sailor.”

Sailor noticed Ian’s gaze drop toward the back of his neck. He hadn’t even realized his collar was flipped up in his rush. Casting a sidelong glance at Hale, who was lazily smoking while lying back, Sailor took the seat opposite him.

“So, what’s the occasion?”

“Ha ha. Indeed. What could bring Captain Sailor running here at dawn? It must be something worthy of such urgency.”

Ian smiled gently. Though this wasn’t a time for pleasantries with the Magic Support Division, the formality was oddly amusing. Sailor’s face flushed bright red, and he barely managed to hide it by gulping down his tea.

“It’s about the ongoing election for the Minister of Magic. I wanted to ask about the Magic Support Division’s stance. You didn’t register as a candidate, so I assume you have other intentions.”

It wasn’t that Sailor hadn’t registered—he simply couldn’t. Ian had seen it with his own eyes during the meeting: given the close ties between Wesley and the Support Division, they were deliberately excluded to avoid public scrutiny.

Sailor bit his lower lip hard and swallowed dryly.

“Oh, Ian, don’t ask about that. After our meeting, all the Support Division members were summoned by the palace guard.”

“Is that so?”

“They’re probably overwhelmed with investigations and can’t think straight. Right, Sailor?”

Acorella smiled brightly and nodded. Her freckled cheeks were flushed, clearly still stirred up. She draped an arm over Sailor’s shoulder, offering exaggerated comfort.

“But don’t worry. Right now, we have no one to represent us at the palace, so we’re taking the full brunt. Once a minister is appointed, everything will be fine. That’s why we gathered here and called you.”

“Hey, I’ve never benefited from your proposals.”

“That’s in the past, and besides, it’s Ian making the proposals now! Ha ha!”

Smack! Thwack!

Acorella laughed openly, patting Sailor’s shoulder with a grin. All her previous proposals to other departments had involved experiments with mana crystals, which often left her writhing in pain for days.

“Captain Sailor, I know very well that the Magic Support Division isn’t involved in the Wesley incident.”

Ian sipped his tea and quietly laid the groundwork. Sailor noticed that unlike the disheveled Acorella and Hale, Ian looked sharp and composed. If anyone should be frazzled, it would be him, given his central role in managing the Magic Department’s crisis.

Is it the weight of his noble name? Or just good looks?

“Captain Sailor?”

“…I’m listening.”

“I believe you, but I’m not sure the palace does. Even among the magic practitioners, opinions are divided, which is only natural.”

And what if the palace decides to completely purge the Magic Support Division to keep the Magic Department in check? What if they dig through past records and find something incriminating?

Regardless of Wesley, Sailor wouldn’t escape punishment.

“As you know, I’m currently reporting on internal Magic Department affairs to the palace. I’ll make sure the Support Division’s innocence is clearly conveyed. That’s well within my capabilities.”

Ian’s meaning was clear: he intended to persuade Prince Marib, Sailor’s patron, to grant leniency to the Support Division. Sailor stammered, cautiously pushing back.

“Even if His Highness Marib agrees, the direct victim is His Highness Gale. I don’t know how he’ll respond…”

“His Highness Gale won’t be a problem.”

At that, Acorella and Hale turned to look at Ian. Marib was obviously Ian’s supporter, but Gale? Why?

Ian skirted around the secret dealings between himself and Gale with a vague answer.

“Because that would be his downfall.”

“Downfall? Hmm, I see.”

Hale, who had been quietly puffing on his cigarette, exhaled a cloud of smoke. If Marib took control, Gale’s influence would definitely shrink.

In that case, there’d be no reason to pick a fight with the Support Division. They’d probably tolerate them as far as possible. After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. The Magic Department would absorb those cast out, even if they were cut off from elsewhere.

“Right. No need to worry about His Highness Gale, Sailor.”

Even if not, if Ian became Minister of Magic, his power combined with Marib’s real authority would be enough to cover everything. Hale flicked his cigarette ash, and Sailor frowned, clearly not understanding.

“What do you mean?”

“If you don’t get it, just shut up and nod. That’s how you survive.”

Acorella pressed her lips shut, biting back a smile. If even a hint of laughter escaped, Sailor might storm out.

“Don’t worry. Just gather the support of the Magic Support Division members for me. What do you say? I think it was worth running here at dawn without even noticing your collar was flipped.”

Ian gave Sailor’s shoulder a friendly tap and asked again.

Sailor looked slowly around at the division heads and Ian, then forced himself to speak, scraping together what little pride he had left.

“And if I refuse?”

“Oh? If you do—”

Ian let out a low chuckle just as dawn broke outside the window. The dazzling sunlight made his blond hair shine even brighter. The warmth was almost tangible, but it couldn’t melt the chill in his emerald eyes.

“Then I suppose no one will remember Captain Sailor.”

Short but pointed. It implied that Sailor, tied to Wesley, could be accused of treason and disappear without a trace. No matter how much time passed, not a single word of his name would remain here.

“…I was just asking if you’d refuse. I’m naturally curious. I don’t expect you to choose that.”

Sailor quickly corrected himself, mumbling excuses. Acorella couldn’t hold back her laughter, and Hale lit a fresh cigarette.

“Ha ha! That was pretty pathetic, but it’s okay. We’ll keep it between us. Good call! Hey, we’re family, after all. Sailor, if you die, I’ll be so sad. Then who’ll do the mana crystal experiments? Huh?”

“Lucky you’re stubborn but not stupid. Congratulations on your extended life.”

The division heads teased, and Sailor clenched his fists, trembling. But what choice did he have? If he refused Ian, he’d have to side with Jean, and no matter who Jean had backing from, he couldn’t stand against Marib.

“Fine. But get our people who were taken by the palace guard released first. Otherwise, I have nothing to convince the others with.”

Snap!

Ian snapped his fingers, nodding in agreement. Securing the Support Division’s votes was important, but so was placing as many of Ian’s allies as possible inside the Magic Department building to set the tone.

“Understood. I’ll do my best to have them all sent home by this afternoon. Captain Sailor, since you’re here, why not head over to that corner and review some documents? With operations stalled, we might even have to borrow a dog’s paw.”

“A dog’s paw?”

“Come on, let’s get to work.”

“When did they say the administrative report would be delivered?”

“You’ll have to ask the neighboring department. I heard it was sent down separately.”

Leaving a bewildered Sailor behind, they all stretched and stood. No matter how little sleep they’d had, morning came mercilessly.

Just as Acorella swung the door wide to return to her department—

Rrrr-click!

“Ah! You startled me!”

Standing right in front of the door was an unfamiliar steward. Her outburst drew everyone’s attention.

“Who are you?”

“I am the steward of Lady Dilaina, my lord Ian Hielo, Viscount. Please spare a moment. The carriage is ready.”

…Dilaina? The only concubine currently beside the emperor, and the biological mother of Arsen and Jin. Ian set down the stack of documents and grabbed his coat.

“Let’s go.”

What could this be about? He had a rough idea but no certainty.

Arsen and Jin. Dilaina will want to maintain the balance between Marib and Gale for the sake of the two princes. At least until they come of age.

But now that things have come to this, if Marib takes control of the Ministry of Magic and firmly seizes power, no one will be able to stop his unchecked rule. And if Marib ascends to the throne as emperor, there will be no guarantee of safety for Arsen and Jin.

Dillaina would rather side with Gale for now.

‘Since the emperor’s death would be disastrous, Gale and Dillaina have every reason to be on the same side.’

Could it be that Gale gave Dillaina a heads-up beforehand? That although Ian appears to stand beside Marib on the surface, he’s secretly holding a knife behind his back?

‘It’s possible. For now, maintaining their power to respond is crucial. They might even try to bring Arsen and Jin into the fold to consolidate strength.’

If not that, then maybe Ian summoned her to keep an eye on her, since she’s considered one of Marib’s talented people? As Ian rode in the carriage, he kept running through these possibilities in his mind.

Screeeech!

It was early morning, and the area around Dillaina’s palace was utterly quiet. A chilly breeze brushed through Ian’s hair as the steward bowed halfway and led him forward.

“This way, please.”

The steward’s footsteps echoed unusually loudly in the empty corridor. Though it was early, the emptiness was extreme for a palace housing concubines. Surely, someone had deliberately cleared the area.

At the large arched doorway leading to the reception room, the steward bowed his head.

“Excuse me. I will announce your arrival inside.”

Creak.

With no messenger available, the steward entered first. As she stepped through the door, Ian stood rigidly, staring straight ahead.

How long had it been?

Swish.

Ian turned his head down toward the warmth he felt in his right hand. A child with silver hair and blue eyes was holding his hand.

“Lord Ian.”

It was a greeting with the eyes, the first in a long time. The tone was calm, quietly low. The strange atmosphere made Ian almost say the name ‘Jin’ aloud—but he stopped himself, distracted by the child’s smiling face.

“Your Highness Arsen. Good morning.”

Arsen looked at Ian with wide, surprised eyes. Then, as if intrigued, his gaze narrowed slyly. Ian sensed a cunning intelligence in those eyes.

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That I am Arsen.”

Ian’s gaze lingered on Arsen’s cheek—smooth, without a dimple. Arsen lightly brushed Ian’s hand away and smiled.

“That’s a secret.”