Chapter 208
“Hah… hah…”
“Ugh, I’m dead.”
“Dead? What are you talking about? We’re still breathing.”
“Is everyone okay? No injuries?”
The drenched royal guards all dropped to their knees, gasping for breath. The rain grew heavier as dawn approached, and they all sighed in relief, shaking water from their hair.
Before them lay the fallen armored legion. A few with enough strength dragged enemy knights to the ground.
“This one’s dead.”
“This one too. Dead.”
“Damn it. This is ridiculous.”
It was the downside of the magic stone armor. While it granted near-absolute offense and defense in battle, the moment it shattered, the magic swordsmen’s attacks overwhelmed the wearer, killing them outright. The guards kicked aside the shattered armor pieces, focusing on checking who had survived.
“This one’s alive, but bleeding badly.”
“Move him! By the way, why is support taking so long to arrive?”
“Usually, they come as soon as you say that.”
“Yeah, that’s their thing—finish the job, then show up.”
“I hear hooves. No exceptions, huh? None at all.”
Clatter, clatter. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed from afar. The guards joked lightly, waving toward the newcomers.
“Iaaaan! Ian!”
“Romandro, sir! We’re here!”
Romandro, riding alongside Beols, waved a handkerchief repeatedly to signal his arrival to Ian. Captain Jaret wrung out his soaked shirt and called out.
“Beols, why are you so late?”
“Sorry. The rain was so heavy the roads flooded. Had to take a detour. Is everyone okay?”
Since Riama’s death, only Beols and Jaret remained to lead the royal guards. Though unlikely, Beols’ face darkened with worry. Seeing Jaret unscathed, he handed him a cigarette.
“Riama always flew around the most during training duels.”
“She was young. Tch. And besides, no intel.”
“Was it manageable?”
“Even five of them together couldn’t take her down.”
Jaret and Beols immediately shared details of the midnight battle—the tactics used, the formation of their troops, everything. They wanted to be ready to respond effectively if the armored legion appeared again.
“Move the wounded this way!”
“Can you walk?”
“It hurts… but I’ll manage, slowly.”
An emergency transport wagon arrived, ferrying the injured in a line. Most were enemy survivors, except for Varsabe. The next task was clear: keep them alive and extract testimony.
“Captain, Minister Ian.”
Varsabe, limping and supported by others, called out to the two. Dawn’s light was breaking, the sky still gray but promising a bright afternoon.
“The pursuers seem to have been mostly drawn from District 3. You should check there.”
“Understood.”
“Thank you for coming, Captain.”
“…”
Jaret closed his mouth tightly and turned away, waving them off briskly.
“If I hear about any more bodies found, you’ll regret it.”
“Yes, understood.”
“Go on.”
Varsabe bowed to Ian and climbed into the wagon. The urgent left Chetur first.
Ian signaled Romandro, Jaret, and Beols to step aside for a moment. They moved away from the chaotic cleanup and lit cigarettes.
“Romandro, want a smoke?”
“No, thanks. My wife’s pregnant.”
“How about you, Minister Ian?”
“Me too. But more importantly, now that the sun’s fully up, what do you expect will happen?”
“You mean Haiman?”
“Even after revealing they’re the Imperial Guard, they launched an attack. That’s a clear violation of the National Security Act. The ‘Meili Daily’ incident, the ties with Gale—all of it. Nothing good comes from the Haiman family.”
Except for Arsen being a magic user, but even that would be useless in a few days. Ian glanced at Beols.
“Jaret’s negative about Haiman, especially after Varsabe’s situation and the midnight battle. The real question is Beols.”
Beols was the one who received the emperor’s direct orders. Whether it was Jin or Arsen, he would want to select a suitable heir without bias. If he were a passive neutral party, that’d be one thing—but if he helped Arsen under the guise of balance, things would get complicated. Reading Ian’s calm yet suspicious gaze, Beols stubbed out his cigarette and added,
“My priority is His Majesty’s safety, then the Imperial Guard. Jaret’s intentions are mine as well, so don’t read too much into it.”
Ian smiled lightly and gestured for them to come closer.
“Soon the morning shift will flood in. Since the roads are flooded, Beols, have someone block the path you came through.”
“But this is private property. There’s no official reason.”
“Just say there’s a risk of flooding and collapse from last night’s heavy rain. It’s a special disaster measure. I trust you know how difficult searches get when crowds mix in.”
That made sense. Jaret and Beols nodded in agreement, while Romandro looked at Ian in amazement. Wasn’t this the same info he’d been given during the night?
Knowledge and wisdom differ. Applying what you know immediately is impressive. Romandro cleared his throat and silently prayed his child would take after Ian.
“Romandro?”
“Yes? Yes, yes? Ah, yes!”
“Tiring as it is, let’s push on and search District 3. File a formal complaint against the Haiman family through the palace, and protect the detainees caught on site.”
“Caught again just a day after leaving the palace.”
“No matter the Haiman name, this situation is spiraling out of control. We’ll need to convene the Grand Assembly quickly.”
“Understood. I’ll relay the message immediately.”
A generational shift was no longer a matter of rivalry but necessity. The tangled problems involving the Haiman family were so complex that if they faltered, Bariel would suffer too. It was safer to unload the sinking ship quickly.
‘Compared to my past life, the Haiman family is walking a completely new path.’
They had been a powerful clan even when Ian was emperor. Their banks still dotted the city, and without them, Bariel’s economy couldn’t be discussed.
‘…Still, it’s troubling.’
If the Haiman family fell differently from history, what would become of Bariel’s future? Would the Serro family take their place, for better or worse?
History is a vast current. No matter how much one struggles, the flow from top to bottom never changes—like a pin pressed down by a god, never to be pulled out.
“Ian, shall we go?”
Romandro nudged Ian. By now, the bodies and armor debris had been cleared, leaving the streets clean. They decided to focus their search on warehouses and buildings in District 3.
Tap, tap, tap!
“Bring the manager! Cross-check for any unreported items, and if anything suspicious is found, bring it out!”
“There are people in this warehouse!”
“We were just working overtime all night.”
“We don’t know what’s going on, really.”
“We’re with Co&Co, not Haiman.”
“Well, we do get funding from Haiman…”
Those who had stayed overnight in Chetur were being dragged out one by one. They had to show ID, and even families were ordered to undergo brief interrogations by the guards.
“Come to think of it, I don’t see the Chetur guard captain. The commotion’s bigger than expected.”
Beols muttered, flipping through a stack of documents from the District 3 checkpoint. All regular soldiers except those guarding the bodies had been dispatched for the search, yet the key guard captain was nowhere to be found.
“Sorry. The captain had personal matters and left Chetur. He sent word and should arrive soon.”
Ian clicked his tongue. This was just like when they met bandits in Karenna. The person responsible was never around when trouble struck. It was practically scientific.
Wheeeeet!
A whistle sounded from afar—a signal that someone had found something suspicious. Ian and Beols dashed out of the checkpoint.
Tap, tap, tap!
The rain had stopped completely, but the ground was still soaked. Wooden crates were stacked in layers on the wet road—items from a suspicious warehouse.
“What is all this?”
“Ah, these came from the Co&Co warehouse. This side is iron, copper, tin supplied to blacksmiths, and this side has unmarked items, possibly unregistered goods.”
“But…”
“These black ones? Aren’t they exactly the same color as that armor? Matte finish and all. I tried a little magic on them, and they reacted. I was just testing for anomalies.”
Creak.
One of the guards opened the box. At first glance, it looked like coal—small, round pieces about the size of a fist piled inside. Ian picked one up, turning it over in his hand.
“Hmm.”
“Do you recognize it?”
A matte black mana stone. Ian had a rough idea of what it might be, but he wasn’t an expert in the field. They’d need to run tests to be sure. Closing the lid, he glanced at Romandro.
“Let’s send these to Captain Akorella.”
“Oh dear, that captain’s going to faint with joy again. I wonder if she’ll be able to get back up this time.”
“If it’s a new discovery, it’ll be quite significant.”
From the inner warehouse came a shout—another find. The appearance of a new mana stone, discovered through the seizure of the Haiman family’s storage. Ian tossed a mana stone lightly to Romandro.
“Before we send a formal complaint to the Haiman family, we might get a call from them first. Seize everything! All suspicious raw stones found here will be claimed by the palace!”
“Yes, understood!”
“Alright, let’s move.”
“Assign a few to handle transport, and the rest continue searching the next warehouse. We’re focusing on Zone 3, but we’ll inspect every area before the day ends.”
With a sharp salute, the guards dispersed. Romandro sorted the mana stones destined for Akorella, then turned to Ian with a suggestion. They’d been soaked by rain and hadn’t had a chance to rest or release their mana.
“How about you take the stones inside, Ian? There should be paperwork waiting in your office. You can get some rest on a soft chair and handle things from there.”
“Would you prefer I go?”
“Yes, yes. You can also check on that Beric fellow, see if he’s alright. Pay your respects to His Highness as well. I’ll hold down the fort here.”
Ian’s eyes twinkled mischievously at Romandro’s urging. Just as he was about to decline, a messenger bird swooped down and landed swiftly on his shoulder—a dispatch from the Magic Department.
“…In that case, I’ll take the stones with me. Romandro, you handle the rest and return safely.”
“What’s this?”
Ian shook the note lightly. Scrawled on it was a crude drawing of a yellow ox. Beric had woken up.