Chapter 232

“Arsen!”

“Let go of this!”

As the two drew closer, Dilaina panicked and hurriedly tried to pull the child away.

But Arsen’s gaze was locked fiercely on Ian, like a young wild animal who’d just spotted an intriguing new toy. He roughly shook off his mother’s hand and grabbed Ian by the collar, pulling him closer.

“This is amusing.”

“…”

Arsen’s eyes flashed sharply. He had opened his power again. A primal force surged at the edge of his senses, but the moment it touched Ian, it faded away.

Crack!

The bones on the back of Arsen’s hand, gripping Ian’s collar, turned white from the pressure.

How could he forget this? The Emperor had felt it, Marib as well, and so had Gale and Jin.

Their very existence was proof of the divine’s absolute protection, and Arsen had no choice but to realize his limits—right now, just like the bones on his hand.

“You’re royal blood, huh? Strange. Where did this come from?”

Arsen whispered softly, his cheeks flushed with excitement. Knowing something incredible, he wondered how best to use it.

The more he thought, the more he chuckled. The child’s shoulders shook with laughter, while Dilaina watched her son in confusion—this was unfamiliar, strange, and frightening.

“…The behavior of a monster is quite a sight. Look at the eyes of those watching you.”

Ian calmly and firmly pulled his hand free, muttering under his breath.

Suddenly, Arsen’s clouded vision cleared. The ministers, priests, even the mages, including Dilaina, were all watching the two with shock and bewilderment.

“Ah.”

But what did it matter? Arsen’s power had been nullified the moment it touched Ian, leaving no trace.

Their actions were strange, yes, but so what? It was just a power struggle between two people on the eve of a major event.

“Mother, let’s go now.”

“Hmm? Y-yes.”

Arsen smiled faintly, and Dilaina reluctantly lifted the corners of her mouth. As always, her son was kind. Ian must have said something unpleasant just now to provoke him.

“Sir Ian, I’m as eager for tomorrow as you are. Truly remarkable.”

She shook her head and clicked her tongue, sincerity clear in her voice. Arsen climbed into the carriage with Dilaina, followed by the now-composed officials. The once-chaotic procession slowly disappeared down the road they had come.

Squeeeak!

Facing each other inside the carriage, Dilaina gently grasped her son’s hand. Outside the window—more precisely, outside the window where Ian still glared—Arsen turned his head with a smile. Pure delight shone in his eyes.

“Arsen, what did Ian say earlier?”

“Why? What do you want to know?”

“If it was something that might upset you—”

“How many children did Father have?”

“Huh?”

Including the third prince who died from a fall, Jin was the last in the line of succession. Below him were children born to women of no status within the palace, so it didn’t really matter.

“About a dozen. But don’t worry. They all live as if dead outside the palace. As long as the heir’s position is secure, no one can challenge you.”

“Hmm. Is that so?”

Arsen replied without much feeling. His mind was still occupied by Philia, whom he had seen at Gale’s residence.

She looked exactly like a mold—surely his birth mother. So, was his father royal blood? He had heard she was the illegitimate child of the disgraced Derga family.

“How do I connect all this? Jin, do you know?”

No matter how he tried to piece it together, an interesting situation was bound to unfold. Arsen couldn’t hold back his laughter again.

“Ahahaha!”

Royal blessings or not, it was all meaningless. Now, he was just one step away from seizing the empire. And with Ian’s secret falling into his lap, things couldn’t be better.

Tap tap tap!

Meanwhile, Romandro approached Ian as the carriage disappeared into the distance. Ian brushed off his disheveled clothes and waved his hand, signaling he was fine. A bright red scratch marked his pale neck—likely from Arsen’s grip on his collar.

“I-Ian, are you alright?”

“What’s going on? Why is His Highness Arsen acting like that?”

“Look! There’s a scratch on his neck!”

No one dared touch it, nervously pacing around.

After straightening his clothes, Ian glanced at the ministers and priests. Though their expressions were hidden beneath their robes, their whispered conversations betrayed their unease. The atmosphere was tense from the moment they entered the palace.

“Let’s move again. The people outside are waiting. Ministers and Ranko, follow me.”

With a sharp snap of his fingers, the stunned gatekeepers suddenly sprang into action. They hurriedly loaded the priests’ belongings onto the carriage and scrambled to tidy the area. No matter what, when the upper ranks fight, it’s always the lower ones who suffer. Avoiding trouble was best.

“Minister Ian.”

“Speak.”

Lily, a minister walking alongside Ian, called out cautiously. This was not the palace they had imagined. Though it was never a place brimming with love and hope, this unstable, chaotic atmosphere was something else entirely. The palace was the world’s center—it had to bear that weight firmly.

“What happened in the palace? We’ve been cut off from the outside world and are out of the loop. Setting aside the strange behavior of Lady Dilaina and His Highness Arsen, where is His Highness Jin?”

“Jin has taken up residence at the Magic Department.”

“The Magic Department?”

“Before that, Ranko.”

“Yes?”

Ian stopped abruptly. Before meeting Avidel and Makael, there was something he needed to clarify.

“When you received the oracle, what was the voice of the divine like?”

“The voice of the divine? My power cannot express its greatness.”

Ranko’s voice carried a faint emotion, as if recalling the glory of that day. Ian pressed gently.

“I’m asking about your memory. I know the divine is great. By the way, Avidel and Makael’s descriptions were quite interesting.”

“…It was deep and heavy, and I felt the ground beneath me tremble. Every word shook my heart with immense weight.”

This matched Makael’s description of a heavy voice more than Avidel’s claim of a thin one.

Ian nodded knowingly, recalling the flash in Arsen’s eyes earlier.

‘He tried to use his power on me.’

Ian brushed his neck. It was clear Arsen had attempted a form of mental magic—‘brainwashing.’

It was his most insidious trick, and judging by his mention of royal blood, it seemed he had been blocked from ‘neutralizing’ Ian.

‘The royal blessing remains intact, meaning I am still Ian.’

Not the illegitimate Ian, but Emperor Ian.

He looked back at Romandro and gave an order.

“Send more personnel to His Highness Gale’s residence.”

“Personnel? Why?”

Arsen was beginning to doubt Ian’s bloodline. Naturally, he would dig into Philia, the birth mother. There was less than a day left. The chance of Arsen exposing this in the palace was slim—who would believe him? And even if they did, it wouldn’t benefit Arsen.

‘If I, the Minister of Magic, am royal blood, then Arsen’s claim of being the first royal court mage would be invalidated. It’s better to use this as a means to shake those around me rather than make it official.’

Philia.

…Or Jin.

Romandro stared at Ian, who didn’t answer his question. Realizing this, Ian just smiled and walked ahead.

“Did you see Arsen’s antics earlier? I’m just worried, that’s all.”

Philia had Nersarn and the warriors, and politically, her options were limited.

But Jin? Being at the heart of the political storm, he would use Ian’s secret to shake things up in any way possible.

‘I’ll protect Jin’s side.’

“Tashigena.”

Ian opened the carriage door himself and guided Minister Lily and Ranko inside. Once they were in the enclosed, private space, Ian revealed the hidden truth.

“Avidel’s oracle was wrong.”

“…What? What are you saying?”

“Ten years ago, what she heard was not the voice of the divine, but that of a monster. It was a devil’s trick to ruin Bariel by making them hate Roberside. I am certain that devil is Arsen.”

Instead of answering, the minister lifted his robe. As expected, his sparse white hair and gnarled wrinkles bore the marks of time. The old man frowned in disbelief.

“…I wasn’t this shocked when I first heard the oracle. Are you really Ian of the Magic Department? The Karbo Temple—since the founding of the nation.”

Ranko, on the other hand, bowed her head deeply, hands clasped tightly, as if praying for forgiveness for such disrespectful words.

“I understand. It’s natural not to believe immediately. But your understanding isn’t important right now. The magic verification ceremony is imminent, and I intend to reveal the truth then.”

“Ian.”

“There is only one thing I want.”

Tap tap tap!

The carriage jolted violently. The Grand Chancellor staggered, clutching the armrest, but his startled gaze remained fixed unwaveringly on Ian.

“I want you, with your long experience, to be the final one to confirm whether the mana verification ritual I’ve prepared is even feasible. And if you happen to encounter any monsters…”

Swoosh!

The carriage wheels sliced cleanly through a puddle of water. At that moment, the faint image of a rainbow—like the one Ian had seen in the Ministry of Magic’s garden—flickered into view. As Ian raced forward, this very moment seemed to summon that rainbow.

“Help me deal with the monsters. And grant His Majesty a new life. That is the only way to atone for Carbo’s mistake.”

“Ian, sir—”

Before the Grand Chancellor could protest, the Ministry building came into view outside the window. Standing on the steps were Avidel and Makael. Both had shed their robes, their faces visible, tears glistening as they hurried toward them.

‘This can’t be happening.’

Lily couldn’t bring herself to say those words aloud. Ian hadn’t wanted an answer. She remained silent for a moment, tracing the sign of the cross with her fingertips—again and again, without pause.

---

Clink.

Gale stirred his soup with a spoon. Sure enough, something round surfaced.

It was a bead, slightly larger than a pill. He pushed it aside, then lightly tapped it to shatter it. With a crisp snap, a tightly rolled piece of paper was revealed.

“Ridiculous.”

The rumors that Gale would defect had spread faster than expected. Every mealtime, whether soup or bread, scraps of paper kept turning up. They were messages from those eager to join Luswena’s side.

Gale rubbed his forehead in irritation.

Knock, knock.

“Your Highness, I heard the sound of glass breaking. Are you all right?”

“…”

Philia peeked her head in. Gale said nothing, only pushed the bowl away, signaling her to clear the dishes. Five notes were already stacked in his drawer—each written in the unmistakable handwriting of a defector, just as Ian had hoped.

“Your meals have been poor lately. I’m worried about you.”

“What’s there to worry about? I’m going to die anyway.”

“…I don’t think I’ll be able to eat with you tomorrow. Ian is holding the mana verification ritual, and I feel I should go.”

Philia smiled awkwardly as she cleared the dishes, though her fingertips trembled ever so slightly. She had only just heard the palace rumors—that on the day of the ritual, either Arsen or Ian would die.

“Why?”

“Oh, Your Highness, you haven’t heard?”

Philia hesitated, then relayed the palace gossip: Arsen is a monster, or if not, then Ian will die. Gale’s eyes widened as he slowly turned his head.

“What?”

“So I want to go. Even if me going won’t change much, I’m worried.”

‘…Arsen is a monster?’

Gale bit down on his pipe, deep in thought. He didn’t understand how things were unfolding, but one thing was clear…

“Philia.”

“Yes?”

“I have a favor to ask.”

Philia tilted her head, holding a plate. A favor? The prince asking me for a favor?

“Take me with you to the mana verification ritual tomorrow.”