Chapter 198

Clink.

Delaina carefully set down her teacup. It was just as Ian’s voice, opening the castle gates, faded from her ears.

The servants bowed their heads, glancing nervously between Delaina and Arsen. Not once had Arsen’s name been mentioned in the efforts to restore order to the palace.

“How blatant,” muttered Duke Haiman.

“Indeed,” Delaina replied through clenched teeth, her voice tight with restrained anger. This wasn’t just about succession—it was a matter of honor. If Jin was spoken of in such a way, anyone would question what Arsen was doing at that very moment.

Arsen sipped his tea, trying to soothe his mother.

“There’s nothing we can do. It happened within Sir Ian’s authority. It’s not like we didn’t expect it.”

“If the gates had opened even a little later, the various news outlets would have raised suspicions about the Ministry of Magic’s reactionaries. It’s a shame.”

Their stance was clear, and they were immediately granted access to the palace. Seeing and hearing things firsthand would push fabricated rumors to the sidelines.

Haiman stroked his beard and gave a bitter smile. Arsen chuckled along.

“It’s not too late. Just keep moving forward.”

“Your Highness, everyone nearby heard Ian’s speech. Wouldn’t it be wiser to exercise restraint? Since the slander is so obvious, pushing back might only backfire.”

There was a risk Ian could seize on this as a pretext to accuse them of disturbing the empire’s order. But Arsen nodded slightly, as if to say, “Don’t worry.”

“Aren’t there several media outlets supported by Haiman? Not immediately, but wait for the right moment and start spreading rumors in the back alleys.”

Fabricated rumors have no power on their own. The real goal is to use them to incite and brainwash.

“No matter how absurd the claim, repeated often enough, people start to believe it. At first, they’ll deny it. But then doubt creeps in—and doubt is always built on some measure of belief. If even one more person grows suspicious of Ian, wouldn’t that work to our advantage?”

Back-alley whispers are hard to trace. It was a risk worth taking, and the butterfly effect it could trigger was limitless. The agitation must not stop.

“Repeat it enough, and they’ll believe it.”

Arsen knew the power of words. His frail brother had spent his life proving it. He smiled wryly and warned Haiman.

“And remember—time is not on our side.”

He had just heard that Marib had been taken to the interrogation chamber. The process from interrogation to trial was entirely in the hands of those involved. If rushed, Marib could be on the judgment stand as soon as tomorrow.

If that happened, Gale’s execution would follow swiftly. It would be Haiman’s turn next.

“Yes, Your Highness. I understand.”

Haiman lowered his eyes, the whites of them showing starkly as he answered.

After returning from receiving the council’s orders, the atmosphere between Delaina and Arsen had shifted subtly. The once talkative Delaina chose silence, while Arsen began issuing most of the instructions.

“Well, this might actually be better. It means the prince we’re backing isn’t foolish.”

They glanced at the clock. By now, the castle gates were likely crowded with people. It was better to wait for the crowd to thin before leaving the palace.

“And one more thing. Don’t you think a little fresh air is in order? Especially for Duke Haiman—it might help him breathe easier.”

“Hmm. I agree.”

“Let’s kill Gale.”

Haiman immediately understood Arsen’s meaning. Gale was living proof of the conspiracy, and Ian had openly declared he was protecting him. Killing Gale would cut off that lifeline.

Haiman nodded but frowned, seeing no clear path.

“I’ve heard that two mages are always stationed beside Gale. The security is tight. His self-inflicted wounds are severe, but given the circumstances, I think Ian is keeping that in mind.”

Stopping the two mages and killing Gale would require considerable effort. And now, with the palace in such turmoil and so many eyes watching, how could they find a way?

Arsen rested his chin on his hand and muttered.

“If only it weren’t for those two mages, this might be easier.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Yes. Anything.”

Arsen’s words were loaded with meaning, but no one asked for details. Delaina stared blankly into space, and Haiman had more pressing matters.

With a smooth motion, Haiman placed a stack of documents on the table—right in front of Arsen, not Delaina. The boy flipped through the papers with practiced ease.

“When palace affairs normalize, a bill to curb the Haiman family’s power will be formally proposed. This list was prepared based on our predictions. The most likely is multiple taxation, followed by restrictions on foreign trade.”

Since Haiman controlled the purse strings, they couldn’t topple him immediately. Instead, they’d slowly trip him up, push him back, then twist his arm and pin him to the ground. This pile of documents outlined the expected attacks.

Clack.

“Duke, aren’t you already paying twice the taxes of other nobles?”

“You’re well informed.”

Once for the noble title, and again for the financial business. Arsen clicked his tongue sympathetically.

“Your taxes help maintain the palace, so naturally, I know. Hmm. Understood. I’ll discuss this with my mother and trusted officials.”

It was Arsen’s role to fend off all the regulations aimed at Haiman. They were already in this together.

“By the way, Mother.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s ask for help from my family.”

“Carbo?”

“Yes. Isn’t that where Jin and I received our prophecies? I believe something will be conveyed about this matter as well.”

“Ah, yes. I’ll contact them.”

Knock, knock.

Just as Arsen reached out to gently grasp his mother’s hand, footsteps sounded outside. A breathless subordinate burst in.

“Duke, there’s news from outside.”

He whispered something into Haiman’s ear. The duke’s calm expression darkened; his eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. His face flushed with rising anger.

Smack!

Without hesitation, he slapped the subordinate’s cheek.

“Oh my.”

Delaina covered her mouth in surprise but said nothing more. A master striking a subordinate wasn’t unusual. What was odd was that he lost his composure in front of Delaina and Arsen.

“How could you let the lower ranks get so out of control?”

“My apologies.”

His huge, pupil-less eyes seemed to grow even wider. Arsen munched on a cookie and asked Haiman.

“What’s wrong?”

“…Nothing. I was out of line. Sorry.”

“Duke, you have to speak if you want help. We’re on the same side, aren’t we? We’ve told you everything. It’s a bit disappointing to see you shut down like this.”

They also shared that Delaina had been stripped of Jin’s guardianship. It was bound to become public knowledge anyway, but sharing even small details was the foundation of true alliance.

Haiman placed his hands on his hips and paced near the window.

“Duke.”

“…One of my men caused an incident outside.”

“An incident?”

“It seems Ian sent someone to print extra editions of a special bulletin, but in trying to stop them, my men used magic stone armor.”

That explained the slap. Arsen whistled quietly to himself.

“So the opponent was a mage? They wouldn’t have used that on a civilian. It’s a regrettable judgment, but I suppose there were extenuating circumstances.”

“A magic swordsman.”

“A magic swordsman? The red-haired one?”

“You know him?”

“He’s one of Ian’s closest aides. A magic swordsman, you say? Is he dead?”

“Barely alive. If they wanted to kill him, they should have done it properly. Tch! The mages are all working to keep him alive. I hear there’s another magic swordsman too—”

“Wait, you said the mages are all involved?”

Arsen cut in sharply.

If the mages were all there, that meant the healing mages were too.

“…!”

“Duke, you should leave the palace quickly.”

Gale’s quarters were empty. Arsen realized this, stood up, and helped his mother to her feet. After exchanging farewells, they parted ways.

Ssshh.

Haiman lit a cigarette and looked back at his subordinate. Blood trickled from the cheek where he’d been slapped.

“So, what happened to the blue-haired swordsman?”

“Well…”

Though only Haiman’s men were in the room, the subordinate leaned in to whisper again. In the palace, even the ears on portraits served their purpose. They spoke carefully to avoid being overheard.

---

“My goodness! Beric! You scoundrel Beric!”

“Turn him this way! Warm water and clean cloths!”

“The mages are taking turns infusing magic! Help with healing magic! Bring all the doctors! We need to stitch the torn wounds!”

“Is this bone… properly aligned?”

“Damn it, this is driving me crazy. Check if his fingers are still attached!”

“Beric, oh, Beric…”

“Romandro, please step aside. You’re in the way.”

“Ugh… please, spare him. Our Beric, what happened to him?”

The mages frowned as they continued pouring their magic into him. At first, Ian thought they’d brought in a torn-apart corpse. Beric looked so battered and broken that there wasn’t a single unscathed spot on his body—he looked far from alive.

Romandro wiped away tears and snot, moving the warm water basin back and forth. Viviana was ordered to stay away, so she wouldn’t be shocked.

“Is he really alive?”

“He even spoke.”

“This is insane. How is he still alive like this? He’s not human. There’s no way this is a person.”

Ziiing. Ziiing.

The healing mages wiped sweat from their brows as they scanned Beric’s injuries. From the tips of their fingers, they could feel the damage inside his body. His organs were completely destroyed.

“Gah! What on earth—”

“Seal the wounds! I don’t know if it’ll do any good, but stop the bleeding first. Akorella! Tell Akorella to bring all the anesthetic potions she has!”

Ian looked down at his blood-soaked hands, then back at Beric. It was a relief he wasn’t dead, but something was definitely off. At this point, anyone else would be better off buried in the ground, so how was Beric still alive?

“Ian.”

Knock, knock.

It was Jaret, one of the three commanders. He knocked on the open door and called out to Ian. He glanced briefly at the battered Beric, then asked awkwardly.

“Do you know anything about Varsabe’s whereabouts?”

“…I haven’t heard anything. According to Viviana, he lured those in armor away. The palace guard has issued a warrant. If anyone spots a swordsman in black armor with blue hair, they’re to report it immediately.”

He was gone. Both the armor and Varsabe had vanished without a trace. Jaret’s face darkened as he furrowed his brow deeply.

Sigh.

Beric was the daughter of a fallen comrade and a trusted subordinate. Ian didn’t doubt his skills, but seeing Beric brought in like this, he couldn’t help but worry.

“And Ian, do you remember when I said I’d look into that bastard Beric?”

When Beric and Jaret first faced off in the training grounds, both had suspicions about Beric’s true identity. There were too many things that didn’t add up for him to be just a simple magic swordsman.

“I’ve gathered some rumors and sifted through them, but nothing concrete came up. Seeing him like this, though, there’s one theory that seems more likely than the rest.”

Ian wiped the blood from his hands with a handkerchief and looked at him, silently urging him to continue.

“Have you ever heard of the Atan tribe?”