Chapter 181

“…”

“What about the painting?”

Why was there no answer?

When Ian cautiously opened his eyes, he saw Beric’s face awkwardly smiling at him. His mission had been to escort Akorella and safely retrieve the painting, yet now he stood empty-handed.

Beric muttered, supporting Ian’s back.

“I’m probably bringing it back safely.”

“Ian.”

“No, I—I thought you were dead, so I—”

His voice trailed off into a weak excuse. Ian was relieved he was unharmed, but if he’d known this, he would have hurried sooner. With the enemy completely wiped out, there was no glory to claim, nor any excuse to make.

“That’s enough, Beric. Go and get the painting.”

“Oh! Right! You’ll be surprised when you see it. It’s huge! And the angel’s eyes—they actually move, like this, spinning around. I’d say it’s worth about as much as a pig. Mm-hmm.”

“You’re making me want to see it.”

“Yes, sir! On my way!”

Beric’s eyes, wide and bloodshot, darted around as he rambled on with some incomprehensible explanation. Despite Ian’s scolding, he immediately got up. Then, from afar, Akorella’s shout rang out.

“Hey, Beric, you crazy fool!”

“Oh? That’s right! You’re coming back just fine!”

“What am I supposed to do if you leave this behind, huh!?”

“Is everyone okay? Why did the portal suddenly disappear? Gah! Wh-where did the border tribes come from?”

Tommy, who had been carrying the front of the painting, froze at the chaotic scene. Piles of corpses like hills, blood flowing endlessly. The sudden appearance of the border tribes was one thing, but the injured mages scattered about felt out of place.

“What happened here?”

“It’s a long story. First, let’s get things organized. Warrior, move the painting inside.”

“Yes, Lord Ian.”

With a swift motion, a nearby warrior took the painting. Just as Tommy was about to warn him to be careful, the warrior lifted it with one hand and climbed the stairs. What had taken two of them to carry now seemed like nothing more than a sheet of newspaper to him.

“Leaders, after counting personnel, rebuild the protective barrier and prepare defenses. Captain Akorella, follow me.”

As Ian pointed toward the central lobby, Akorella hurried after him, whispering.

Tap tap tap!

“Lord Ian, on the way here, we encountered Lord Gale. He was hiding in the Third Imperial Palace and approached us when he saw us.”

Ian’s steps came to an abrupt halt at her words.

So much was implied in that one sentence: Gale’s forces had been decisively repelled by Marib, and that was why he was hiding in the Third Palace among the many imperial palaces.

“So Gale knows about the Emperor’s secret passage.”

“Since he was once Minister Wesley’s lover, he probably didn’t know all the details but had a good idea.”

“But if you were moving the painting, why didn’t he stop you? There’s no sign of a fight.”

Akorella’s hair was soaked with sweat, but it was from exertion, not battle. She lowered her voice further.

“Lord Gale asked me to relay a message. He wishes to meet discreetly if the opportunity arises. It seems to be a request concerning the palace entrance.”

That was hopeless. The embers had barely died down, and now they wanted to bring in outside forces to throw the palace into chaos again? Ian chuckled softly and asked.

“He’s not one to make pointless requests, is he?”

“No. He set several conditions.”

“Relay them without omission.”

Ian stopped in the hallway and leaned against the wall. His legs felt weak, but Akorella didn’t notice—his posture and movements were too natural.

“Information about the Emperor’s secret passage. And—”

“Hmm.”

Ian wasn’t particularly interested. Since the passage was created by magic, it was only a matter of time before the mages figured it out. With Marib captured, time was on their side. And above all, if the Emperor learned the situation, he would likely appear himself.

“The management, authority, and delegation of the magical power-sealing stones currently held in the palace. Honestly, when I heard that, I nearly lost my mind.”

Akorella’s voice, usually restrained, was sincere now.

Those stones were of the highest rank, beyond comparison—precious gems of immense significance to mages.

“As you know, Lord Gale holds the most power-sealing stones in the current palace. If he plays his cards right, he could use this crisis to elevate the glory of the Magic Department.”

Though she spoke calmly, Ian could easily guess the thoughts running through her mind.

“You want to study the power-sealing stones?”

“Yes. To dissect, analyze, savor, and enjoy understanding the principles behind the stones…”

She blurted out her true feelings without realizing it. Akorella trailed off, standing at attention and staring into space. Ian pulled out an amber-colored gem from his pocket.

“Take this.”

“What is this?”

“A new type of power-sealing stone created by Marib.”

“Whaaat!? How?”

Akorella gasped, a mix of shock, joy, reverence, and curiosity all tangled in her exclamation.

“It seems to work differently from the existing stones. You and the mages in the Power Stone Management Department should go underground and start research immediately. Several mages, including Nakina, were hit by arrows made with this and can’t use magic, so be especially careful.”

“They can’t use magic?”

“It’s probably temporary, but that’s just a guess. Collect all the amber arrows scattered outside—they’re all debris—and proceed.”

“I’ll check on it right away.”

Akorella swallowed nervously, clutching the gem as if it were the most precious thing in the world, then bowed deeply before rushing out.

Tap tap tap!

“L-Lord Ian! About the painting—it’s definitely drawn with liqui-stone, and according to Beric, the angel’s eyes actually moved. It’s probably what you were looking for.”

“Understood. I’ll take a look.”

“Yes. Then, Power Stone Management Department! Gather up!”

Leaving her shout behind, Ian entered the conference room.

A quiet space, empty of people.

The painting leaned against the left wall at an angle.

‘Akorella and Tommy brought the painting without interference from Gale. That means he’s already seen it. And since it’s just one of many secret passage entrances, he probably didn’t think it mattered.’

Ian stepped back and scanned the painting.

When he was Emperor—back when Crony’s rebellion broke out—he had used such passages to escape the palace.

“Your Majesty, are you listening?”

No answer. But Ian knew it was a deliberate silence. The Emperor was probably sitting in the dark, watching over the place where the painting hung.

“I know you’re in there. This isn’t a comfortable place for you, so come out. Is Beols there with you?”

Still no reply. To an outsider, Ian might have seemed mad. After a moment’s hesitation, he mentioned Marib’s name.

“We have captured Prince Marib.”

That was a plea for the Emperor to manifest and take control of the situation. Then, the angel’s leftmost eye in the painting looked directly at Ian.

—Is that true?

A chilling voice, impossibly high-pitched for an old Emperor. Ian saluted lightly and nodded.

“Yes, it is.”

The Magic Department had no painting made with liqui-stone. Even if they did, it would only show the opposite wall, so visual information was extremely limited. All they could hear were explosions and loud noises. The Emperor seemed unable to grasp the situation fully.

“Is Beols with you? Is he unharmed?”

So he must have sent Beols to scout the surroundings. Hael sensed each moment and tracked the path.

“You may come out now. Everything is settled and safe.”

But the Emperor only blinked and looked down at Ian.

—Show me both Marib and Gale. I cannot leave until then.

Ian frowned involuntarily at the unexpected reply. He hadn’t imagined this. Wouldn’t an Emperor rush out to resolve the situation?

But now, he was telling Ian to prove their safety first. Despite never having communicated before.

“Your Majesty.”

Ian suddenly recalled the records of the Emperor’s unusually long life. How could such a withered old tree live so long? It was because of this temperament.

A pitiful Emperor who feared death like divine punishment, prioritizing his own safety over the palace’s recovery.

“Does Prince Gale not follow your will? You should appear yourself and make your intentions clear.”

—I cannot trust them. Marib poisoned me, and Gale gathered noble forces without consulting me. Both sons have torn my heart to shreds.

It seemed the ‘deal’ to support Gale was to politically sideline Marib but forbid any forces that might threaten the Emperor’s safety.

Yet, noble reinforcements lay dead all over the palace.

“Then come out and declare the removal of both princes’ titles. Your Majesty, there is nothing to fear.”

Ian was dumbfounded. An Emperor who had to be coaxed and cajoled like this. The angel in the painting asked again.

“If we strip Prince Marib and Gale of their titles, only Arsen and Jin remain. Do you wish for Arsen to become the heir?”

Ian suddenly sensed something peculiar in the emperor’s tone—as if he was well aware that Arsen wasn’t truly fit for the role. Ian lowered his gaze for a moment.

“No. If Prince Marib were still strong, appointing another heir would only undermine his legitimacy. But the situation now is different. It would be best to leave the position vacant for the time being, allowing the chaos to settle before making any decisions.”

Though Ian wanted to strongly endorse Jin as the successor, he knew every process had its proper course.

‘If I support Jin now, the emperor will only grow more suspicious of me, forcing me further into hiding. This is the perfect moment—an opportune time when, even if the emperor were assassinated, history might simply move on.’

The emperor knew this too. He was aware that Ian currently held nearly as much situational support within the palace as he did. If Ian sought power, the emperor understood that an act of rebellion—like killing him—could easily happen. That’s why he sharpened his scrutiny, trying to discern Ian’s true intentions.

‘For Jin to surpass Arsen and be recognized as the rightful heir, the emperor’s support is absolutely essential.’

With that in mind, Ian bowed gracefully. For Jin’s future—and the future Ian envisioned—he was willing to do whatever it took.

“Your Majesty, please manifest yourself and tend to the palace. Everyone awaits only you.”

A heavy silence followed. Suddenly, Ian sensed movement and looked up. It was Beols, still watching him with wary eyes.

“Sir Ian, rise.”

“And the emperor?”

Beols held out a letter, stained heavily with blood.

“…Is this His Majesty’s blood?”

“Listen carefully to what I’m about to say. This is a message the emperor left for me—and for Bariel.”