Chapter 201
“…Mother?”

Philia sat there, dazed and slumped to the ground. Her hair clung to her cheeks, soaked with sweat and tears, and her palms were stained with blood.

Nersarn, who had followed behind, rushed over in alarm.

“Philia!”

The warriors quickly subdued the intruder; the whole process was over in moments. But what on earth had just happened in that brief instant?

Philia looked up at Ian, tears streaming down her face. She knew it wasn’t her fault, but the fear of what this might mean for Ian weighed heavily on her.

“Ian, I—”

“Are you alright?”

Ian knelt before her, his face grim. Upon closer inspection, a cut split the corner of his mouth. It must have been one of those two—Gale or Arsen—who had struck Philia’s cheek.

Nersarn’s expression darkened instantly. His sharp jaw clenched tighter, veins bulging at his temples. He glared fiercely at the two princes, his body rising tensely. How dare they… Philia was like a delicate wildflower to him, someone he cherished as if she might be blown away by the slightest breeze.

“Wait, wait a moment.”

Philia grabbed both Ian and Nersarn by the arms, trembling. The shock of what had just happened left no room to feel the pain of her wounds.

“I can’t understand it, but Prince Arsen ordered me to mark my face. Just like the wound on Prince Jin.”

Nersarn frowned, clearly unsettled, but Ian quickly glanced at Arsen. This was no ordinary injury—it was a mark of the heir apparent. The boy was slowly rising, clutching the table for support.

‘No.’

Thankfully, his face was clean. Though Gale’s attack had slightly torn his earlobe, his clear complexion remained untouched.

“I didn’t want to do it, but my mind went blank, and I couldn’t resist. If I’d hesitated even a moment longer… Ian, I’m sorry.”

Philia’s body shook as she clung to Ian’s arm, her eyes pleading silently that this wouldn’t cause him trouble.

“Please don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong. And Mother, your son is the Minister of Magic for the great Bariel Empire. Even as princes, no one can treat him lightly. Hold your head high.”

Ian mulled over Philia’s words—the mind going blank, unable to resist. He had assumed Arsen’s intrusion into Gale’s quarters was aided by an accomplice, but Philia’s testimony suggested Arsen had used some kind of power.

‘Arsen was already inside the room. There’s no way to enter the quarters without passing the guards.’

Suddenly, a sharp sound cut through Ian’s thoughts. Gale had slapped Arsen across the face. The boy, barely steady on his feet, staggered and fell backward again.

“Gah! Your Highness!”

“Prince Gale! This must not happen!”

The guards rushed forward, alarmed, but Gale ignored them and grabbed Arsen by the hair. Though Arsen was a prisoner, what did that matter?

“Ugh.”

“I always thought you were arrogant and reckless, but at least you knew your place. Now I see that’s not true. You’re nothing but a cesspool of filth.”

“Your Highness! Let him go!”

“This is your final warning! Enough!”

“Please, stop this!”

Arsen’s body shook under Gale’s rough grip. The guards reluctantly drew their swords and shouted. Regardless of the circumstances, Arsen was the closest heir to the throne. They couldn’t just stand by and let Gale beat him like this.

Arsen chuckled, eyes half-lidded.

“Know your place? That’s for you, big brother. You’ve lived your whole life in Marib’s shadow, and you’re about to die without ever escaping it! Who do you think you’re lecturing?”

Smack!

Clang!

Gale struck Arsen’s cheek again, and the guards raised their swords in response. That was the limit. Gale released Arsen’s hair and sat on the edge of the bed, wincing as pain shot through his neck and waist.

“Heh, heh…”

“Your Highness, are you alright?”

“Fetch a doctor! Now!”

As Gale rummaged through the table for a cigarette, a warrior approached and handed him a small bundle of tobacco leaves. What he really needed was a sedative, but no one seemed to notice, distracted by Arsen’s bloodied face and anguished cries.

“That brat’s crazy. If he’s the emperor, then I’m the emperor’s grandpa.”

“Shut your mouth.”

“So what? They don’t understand the common tongue anyway.”

“Look at him—he’s lost it. Keeps sneering like that.”

“That brat hit Lady Philia, didn’t he? I want to smash his skull in. Learned nothing but bad habits.”

The warriors muttered among themselves in the common tongue. It was disappointing, really—these princes of the great Bariel Empire were nothing but trouble.

Nersarn signaled for restraint but didn’t intervene. He was just as unsettled by Philia’s injury.

“Prince Arsen.”

“…”

Ian brushed away the tobacco smoke and approached Arsen. The boy blinked slowly, staring up at him.

“Is it true you struck my mother?”

“Yes. That lowborn spoke insolently, so I did.”

Is there a problem? Arsen smiled slyly, but Ian’s gaze was cold. He had seen the cruelty hidden behind the innocence of this child more than once.

‘Arsen has powers. Since he hasn’t revealed them until now, it’s not a card that benefits me entirely. But if I leave him be, he’ll only cause trouble. Better to remove him.’

“There’s no one who stands alone in this world, Prince Arsen. You’ve made a mistake.”

Ian turned to look at Gale, who sat on the bed exhaling smoke from his rolled tobacco leaf. Their eyes met, and Ian gave a subtle raise of his left eyebrow—a silent signal.

“Hah.”

Gale let out a low chuckle, clearly understanding Ian’s meaning. He was the only one who could kill Arsen here and now without repercussions.

“…Sir Ian, didn’t you issue a ban on outsiders entering my quarters?”

“Yes, I did.”

“I’m alive, and people are dying. As the one responsible for restoring order in the palace, I must root out all conspirators. Yet I have no idea why Arsen is here.”

Gale skillfully framed the situation, shifting blame onto Arsen for the chaos to come.

Ian nodded slightly in agreement.

“I don’t know either.”

Clang!

Gale snatched a sword from a nearby guard. The warriors whistled quietly, watching, while the guards hesitated and stepped back. His intent was clear.

“Arsen, if you die here, no one will know why.”

Swish.

Gale’s blade traced a line from the boy’s jaw down to his neck.

“Ian.”

Suddenly, Gale called out to Ian and stopped. He needed to know what he would gain by killing Arsen here.

What he needed most was a reprieve from losing his royal surname. Even if he couldn’t stay in the palace, living outside was better than nothing. Life might offer another chance.

“Prince Gale Verosion, Second Prince. State your business.”

Ian read his intentions and spoke the full title deliberately. Gale scowled but steadied his sword.

Kill, and survive.

If you want to live, kill.

Swish.

“Ian.”

At that moment, Arsen lightly touched the blade with his fingertips. Blood welled from his index and middle fingers.

“The traitor is trying to kill me, the Fourth Prince, yet there’s no sign of protection? I am indispensable to Bariel.”

“You, Your Highness?”

Ian asked, feigning ignorance. How so? Even without that brat, Bariel’s centuries of glory would remain intact. In fact, the future under Jin’s rule would shine even brighter.

Ziiing. Ziiing.

“…!”

“…!”

Arsen sighed, and his pale eyes turned golden. Philia, Nersarn, even the guards noticed the change.

“I am destined to be the first mage emperor.”

Shock gave way to horror.

Gale instinctively staggered back. Nersarn’s arms tightened around Philia. No one understood what was happening.

“So if you kill me, you kill the Bariel Empire. Ian, you know well the boundless glory a single mage can bring.”

Of course. A lowborn from the frontier rose to this position simply because he was a mage. And now, an heir to the throne is a mage? Without a doubt, he was worthy of the throne.

Like Ian once was, wielding divine power beyond all else.

Arsen chuckled again.

“Ian, you said I made a mistake? Well, I think you did. To side with foolish Jin against someone like me… tsk tsk.”

Everyone turned to look at Ian. Even Gale couldn’t hide the shock on his face. He had known Arsen since the day he was born, but never once suspected he had the makings of a mage.

“…Is this some kind of hallucination?”

“Gale, you must have forgotten the blessing of the royal family. Mind control magic won’t work on me. If you try to kill me, then I—ugh!”

Arsen, who had been speaking confidently, suddenly coughed up blood. Dark clots spilled onto the floor in an instant. His eyes bloodshot, he let out a pained scream.

Clack!

“Your Highness! Are you—ugh! Are you alright?”

“Prince Arsen! Your Highness!”

Medical staff rushed in at the guards’ call.

With Gale still holding his sword and Arsen collapsed, bleeding heavily, the guards—unaware of the full situation—restrained Gale and pinned him to the bed.

Clang!

Gale’s sword clattered to the floor.

Swallowing a groan of pain, he stared blankly at the door Arsen had just exited. If Arsen truly was a mage, then no matter what he or Marib had done, they could never claim the throne. What cruel fate was this? Gale buried his face in the bed as the guards held him down.

“Lord Ian.”

Nersarn spoke cautiously, as if asking what to do next.

“…The first Emperor Mage.”

“Lord Ian?”

“Haha! Hahaha!”

Nersarn flinched. Ian was laughing—an incredulous, almost bitter laugh.

“…This is maddening.”

To even dare mention that title in front of the true first Emperor Mage.

A few warriors gripped the doorframe, urgently asking,

“Should we pursue him? If he gets away, won’t this become a real problem?”

Ian shook his head. If they were going to build the image of an Emperor Mage, then those close to the throne likely already knew about this situation. If something happened to Arsen’s condition, it would be a fatal mistake for Ian. In fact, it was a relief that Gale hadn’t killed him.

‘The first mage to come from the royal family… Neither of them fits that description. History has told me otherwise. I was the first.’

Based on the history Ian knew, this simply couldn’t be. If what Arsen just displayed was truly magic in every sense…

‘Then he’s not of the royal bloodline.’