Episode 19
“I know full well you have nowhere to sleep and nothing to eat right now.”
It was obvious that all the wages Beric had earned so far had been confiscated under the guise of compensation for damages. He was, quite literally, left with nothing but his bare skin.
He had managed to scrounge a meal at the tavern where he used to beg, but he couldn’t live like that for days on end. Beric furrowed his brows and glared at Ian.
“Damn it, did you drug me or something?”
“Seems that way.”
“Come to think of it, every time I met you, my body felt like this. I don’t know what it is, but it’d be better for you to be honest about it. I don’t fight like that.”
A fierce determination surged through his veins. The moment his fist connected, the rush was almost overwhelming. No matter how he thought about it, this wasn’t a normal reaction. The only common factor in both experiences was that blond-haired bastard.
“Hmm.”
Ian smiled leisurely and shook his head, a hint of disappointment in his expression.
“Your posture is good, but you’re surprisingly dull-witted.”
“What?”
Beric blinked in confusion at the sudden remark. Ian crossed his arms and leaned against the door, tapping near his temple as if urging Beric to think carefully.
“The water you poured when we first met wasn’t mine—it belonged to one of the trainees. And didn’t you refuse the jerky?”
He hadn’t taken a single sip of water besides that. Beric’s face grew increasingly puzzled. In truth, he had come half convinced.
“I can tell you what you want to know. But first, you have to promise me something.”
Ian’s eyes shimmered gold.
But unlike before, he didn’t send any magic flowing into Beric. If he ran wild like a colt here, things could go wrong.
“First, keep silent about the golden eyes.”
“What? No way! This is—”
Beric jumped up, shouting, which made the guards behind him glance over in confusion. Ian had his back turned, so his face was hidden.
“And don’t act insolent.”
Ian warned calmly, staring Beric down. He had tolerated a lot because he needed the power of a magic swordsman, but Beric had crossed the line. Given his personality, he’d probably act the same way in front of Derga.
‘Is that why magic swordsmen are so rare?’
A temper that pushed for orders and even begged to be killed. The whip scars that hadn’t fully healed yet were proof. Beric bit his lower lip and muttered.
“…That’s all?”
“Lastly, I want you to protect me from all kinds of dangers. If you do, I’ll make the power you felt that day entirely yours. Just so there’s no misunderstanding, I only drew out the power hidden inside you.”
Ian seemed to despise relying on external forces, so it was best to make that clear. Beric blinked in surprise.
“My power?”
“That’s the offer. If you agree—”
“I will!”
“Please lower your voice.”
Beric’s loud outburst left the guards looking increasingly suspicious. They whispered among themselves, clearly discussing something.
“Joining me means crossing borders. I’m not sure if you’ll be needed when we return.”
“Return? Here?”
How could a sacrifice sold off in a peace treaty ever come back to Bratz? Even Beric knew that was impossible. But regardless, Ian’s answer was clear.
“Crossing borders is no big deal. You don’t have a home or family anyway, so where else would you go?”
“Keep in mind, you might die.”
“You’d starve to death if you stayed here.”
Right. No respect even in death. Ian chuckled dryly and looked down at him. He was about to add something but stopped himself. After all the complaints he’d heard, this was progress.
“So, speak plainly now.”
Beric’s eyes burned with a simple desire for strength. Ian chose his words carefully before asking.
“Have you ever heard of a magic swordsman?”
“No.”
“How about magic power?”
“Nope.”
“……”
They stared at each other in awkward silence.
Even during Ian’s time as emperor, it wasn’t unusual for uneducated people to be unaware of such things. Especially here, a rural borderland from over a hundred years ago. It was natural that Beric, an orphan wandering the streets, didn’t know.
“Ian, sir. It’s getting late.”
“It’s time for the shift change.”
As their conversation ended, the guards took the opportunity to step in. Ian stroked his chin and gave Beric a final instruction.
“I’ll call for you soon. Wait here.”
“Uh? Hey, wait a minute.”
“Quietly now.”
The last words were almost a plea. As the guards slowly pushed the massive door closed, Beric tried to follow, but was stopped by a long spear.
‘I clearly told him to wait.’
How could he break orders the moment they were given? Ian already had enough on his plate without adding another worry.
He clicked his tongue and headed toward the annex. Since it was an odd hour, there wasn’t a single servant in the hallway. They must have finished cleaning and gone to rest.
Knock knock.
“Ian here.”
Without waiting for a reply, Ian opened the door.
He had expected the tutor to be waiting, but the room was empty. Judging by the coat, bag, and half-cold teacup, the tutor hadn’t left long ago.
“…Where did the teacher go?”
Maybe to the bathroom, but there was no sign of anyone. Ian leaned back against the sofa, then suddenly sat up, eyeing the tutor’s bag.
‘Derga assigned this person to watch me. There might be useful information inside.’
Ian rummaged through the bag and found mostly reference materials for lessons.
Among them was a paper titled
‘So he really did graduate from Bariel.’
It was easy to guess why such a prodigy ended up in the Bratz borderlands. The “Great Desert” referred to the territory of the Cheonryeo tribe, and the “Blister Sea” was the sea at the edge of the desert, bordering the East.
He searched the bottom of the bag but found nothing special. After neatly putting the materials away, Ian rifled through the worn coat. Aside from some trash in the pockets, it was clean.
“Hm?”
Deep inside the sleeve, a tailor’s label was sewn in. The name of the designer was there, along with a seal that looked oddly familiar.
‘…This looks similar to the seal Lord Morin used.’
He traced the lines with his fingertips, recalling Morin’s gestures.
At that moment, the Bariel University journal caught his eye again. Since Bariel was a government-run institution, there were plenty of opportunities to connect with officials. Ian couldn’t help but laugh quietly.
‘Lord Morin’s eyes and ears were the tutor all along.’
That made sense. Servants wouldn’t know about sending letters to the Cheonryeo tribe. Ian tidied the coat and sat on the sofa as if nothing had happened.
‘Does the tutor know I’m working with Lord Morin?’
If he was just a simple informant, he wouldn’t be told that far. If more, then Ian was being doubly watched from behind.
Just then—
Creak.
“Ian, sir?”
The tutor burst in, startled to see Ian. Sweat clung to his brow, and his face was flushed. He must have just come from a risky situation.
Usually, this meant a secret meeting, spying, or theft. Since he was unarmed, spying was the most likely.
“I was delayed because of some business. Where have you been?”
“T-the bathroom.”
“There’s one in the room, too.”
“Well, um…”
His eyes darted nervously. Ian waved it off and sat at the desk.
“We need to write a letter today. You heard from your father, right?”
“Yes, I did. I’ve already written it. You just need to copy it.”
Ian could hear the sigh of relief. The tutor seemed glad Ian wasn’t paying much attention.
How could he be so clumsy? It seemed more plausible that the tutor was a distant relative rather than a planted informant.
“Teacher, it looks like you’ll be late today. Should I notify your home? Since it’s late, why not have dinner here?”
Ian asked, trying to gauge him. The tutor wiped his sweat and looked troubled.
“No, it’s fine. No one’s waiting for me. I’ll eat at home.”
Single, in his late thirties, a poor noble struggling far from home. His life was clearly devoted to research.
Back at the palace, such people occasionally showed remarkable results.
‘No wonder he lacked enthusiasm for lessons.’
He wanted to finish quickly and get back to his research.
As Ian copied the text, he kept a close eye on the tutor. There was definitely something off; the tutor’s demeanor was tense.
The quiet scratching of the quill filled the room. Ian thought to himself.
‘It seems Morin ordered him to do something. But there wasn’t enough time to visit Derga’s office.’
Ian’s room was on the third floor of the annex, while Derga’s office was at the top of the main building. He couldn’t have gone there, not knowing when the student might arrive. So he must have taken care of business somewhere else in the annex.
The first floor had a small kitchen, servants’ bathroom, and storage. The second floor housed the butler and lower servants’ quarters. The third floor and above were guest rooms and empty rooms.
“Butler…”
Did he just stop by the butler’s room? Ian let the thought hang in the air, then glanced back at the tutor. The tutor seemed to have a talent for silent replies—his face was dark and rigid, like stone.
“The butler isn’t offering any snacks today. Aren’t you feeling a bit hungry?”
“I-I’m fine,” came the stiff response.
Ian chuckled softly and continued writing the rest of the letter. From Morin’s perspective, it was only natural to keep multiple possibilities open.
If Ian failed—especially if Derga found out and everything fell apart—how would they handle the fallout? The tutor probably had some orders from higher up.
‘Looks like he has business with the butler.’
A master key? But among the family heads, it was rare to grant the butler access to the seal. It would be more likely to entrust him with managing finances, but knowing Derga’s temperament, that seemed unlikely.
‘Then…’
Ian had no choice but to find out himself.
He skillfully copied the text while keeping an eye on the tutor. For now, the tutor didn’t seem to know about Ian’s alliance with Morin. He was visibly uneasy, sweating nervously.
In that case, Ian had no reason to reveal anything. With a bright smile on his face, the tutor seemed relieved and returned a somewhat awkward smile in response.