Chapter 233
The sun of that day rose again.

Ian slouched wearily on the sofa as the attendants fussed over him. They smoothed his hair without a single strand out of place, buttoned his coat, and pinned the Minister of Magic badge—bestowed by the royal court—onto his chest. As one attendant brought a golden tray holding leather gloves, footsteps echoed from outside.

“Ian, are you ready?”
It was Viviana. She, too, wore a more formal dress than usual. After all, this was no ordinary royal event—it was the final day for someone.

The opposing side believed the person in question was Ian, but Ian’s close circle was convinced it was Arsen.

“Viviana, are you joining us? I thought you weren’t feeling well.”
“No, I must be there behind you, Ian. And Romandro seems quite unwell. I think my presence will bring him some comfort.”

They were on the defensive. Supporters of Arsen were far more numerous than those backing Jin, whose faction was visibly shrinking.

So Viviana wanted to fill every seat she could. Though, for safety reasons, she wouldn’t be allowed inside.

“Are you feeling alright, Ian? It seems the side effects of Captain Akorella’s stamina potion are kicking in. You look tired, and once you fall asleep, you sleep for days on end…”
“I can still manage. How about Jin?”
“He’s finished.”
“Good. Let’s go.”

Ian clenched his fist and slipped on his gloves with determination. Stepping outside, Jin, Xiaoxi, and Romandro waited with the mages. Ian reached out his hand, and the boy silently took it.

“Did you have a good dream?”
“…Yeah. And you, Lord Ian?”
“I had a very good dream as well.”

Last night, Jin had dreamed of Arsen again, while Ian hadn’t slept at all. Yet, as if to hint that fortune was on their side today, they smiled at each other.

Tap tap tap!

“How’s the magic circle?”
“It’s complete. The Minister will give the final confirmation. We’ve instructed the front gate to notify us when the attendees arrive, and just in case, we’ve requested troop deployment from the royal guards. No response yet.”

Unlike before, this magic verification ceremony was to be held in the Ministry of Magic’s conference hall. There were no additional events like the New Year’s gathering; it was entirely under the Ministry’s jurisdiction.

More importantly, with so many precautions needed for unexpected situations, the Ministry was far more practical than the main palace.

Clatter.

“A little more to the right, right! Perfect!”
“What about this curtain? Should we pull it down?”
“Is the wine ready? Make sure there are enough glasses.”
“Could you lend a hand here? Hold this, please!”

The light of the Oracle, unveiled, was truly breathtaking. Though shaped like a harp, the milky curves studded with countless jewels made it look like a masterpiece of art—worthy of Carbo’s glory, the founder of the kingdom.

“Ian.”
“High Priestess.”

Lily, the High Priestess weaving through the mages, recognized Ian and approached. She sighed deeply, her bent back heaving.

“We’ve finished preparations as you instructed, but honestly, I’m not sure this is the right path.”
“There is no right path. Only the path each must walk. You, High Priestess, need only watch from behind and choose when the time comes.”

Rather than outright accepting the claim that Arsen was a monster, the High Priestess took a more cautious stance—willing to assist in proving it, but reserving judgment until the results were clear. Behind her, Avidel and Makael placed their hands on the Oracle’s light, praying.

“Ian, Quintana from the Administration has arrived.”
“Five carriages just passed through the main gate. Central nobles Leontis, Fileto, and Delma from the Ministry of Culture.”

Though early, the guests were eager—today was a day they had all awaited.

Ian asked Romandro to greet the guests and stepped onto the stage. Beneath the Oracle’s light, the massive magic circle drawn by the mages shimmered with power.

“No issues, Ian.”
“Good. Well drawn.”

He carefully examined each symbol with his fingertips. The mages surrounded him, watching as if grading homework. When a smile crept onto Ian’s lips, the mages relaxed and smiled back.

“Play the orchestra. Let the festival begin.”

---

Hours later.

The hall overflowed with people, packed shoulder to shoulder. Some had no invitations, but the Ministry didn’t stop them. The more, the merrier for a celebration, after all.

“So this is the Ministry of Magic. It’s my first time here. Wow, it’s beautiful—flowers drifting endlessly.”
“I heard there’s a room where it snows and rains constantly. Not an exaggeration, apparently.”
“Where’s Minister Ian? I don’t see him.”
“I thought I misheard. Arsen being a monster? Ridiculous. But the weight of that claim makes me wonder if there’s some truth.”
“Even within the Ministry, opinions are divided. Ian hasn’t taken a clear stance since the conference.”
“One of them said only one will survive. Today will be quite the spectacle.”

Nobles and officials whispered behind cupped hands, eyes darting around. Though the setting was no different from the parties they’d long enjoyed, a sharp tension hung in the air.

Today. Now. Soon.
Bariel’s future would be decided.

“Lady Dilaina and His Highness Arsen!”
“Duke Hyman!”

Creaaak.

The doors slowly opened, and silence fell instantly, as if time itself had stopped. Without the orchestra’s slow music, everyone would have thought so.

Dilaina, Arsen, and Duke Hyman entered together, followed by their supporters taking their seats.

“Oh, welcome, Your Highness Arsen.”
“Lady Dilaina, how have you been?”

Several nobles rushed forward to greet Arsen, swarming like ants drawn to sugar. Romandro, standing guard by the door, clicked his tongue and frowned.

Ziiing. Ziiing.

A faint ringing filled everyone’s ears—the familiar signal from the Ministry’s magical devices. The crowd looked up at the stage and saw Ian, shining brighter than usual.

“I am Ian Hielo, Minister of Magic. Thank you all for attending despite your busy schedules. We gather today to hold the magic verification ceremony, earnestly hoping for the birth of the first royal magician in Bariel’s history.”

Ian smiled directly at Arsen, a smile laced with irony and hope—wishing, above all, that Arsen truly was a magician. With a graceful gesture toward the stage steps, Arsen’s head turned involuntarily.

“The star of today, His Highness Arsen. Please ascend.”

“Before that, Lord Ian, shouldn’t we address something first?”

A challenge to repeat the accusations from the conference.

“You called me a monster, disgracing our Emperor father. Not only that, you brought shame upon our mother, tearing apart the royal family’s honor.”

Insulting the royal family.

“You even declared you would kill me.”

Attempted regicide.

“Your despicable attempt to seize power, using our cursed brother Jin as a shield, is beyond contempt. If I prove I possess the qualities of a magician, would you dare to take your own life?”

The crowd held their breath, eyes flicking between Ian and Arsen.

Their gazes were sharp, unyielding. Ian was the first to smile.

“…Everyone, listen well. I will say this officially once more. Arsen is the brother of the last monster to die in Bariel—a demon who will lead this country to ruin. He can use mind control and wields power akin to magic, making him adept at deceiving humans.”

Gasps escaped from all corners. Ian had thrown down the gauntlet openly; there was no turning back now.

“He manipulated Jin’s oracle and stole Lady Dilaina’s maternal love.”
“Lord Ian! That’s disrespectful!”
“If I am wrong, I will kill myself. But if Arsen’s demon nature is proven, I will personally see to his death.”

Hyman, Dilaina, and the ministers exchanged glances and nodded. This was the moment they had been waiting for—a chance to topple the powerful Minister of Magic without lifting a finger. And he had come willingly.

Dilaina gripped Arsen’s shoulder and spoke.

“Very well. I hope you keep your word and honor. But first! I cannot trust the magic circle you created. How do we know you haven’t tampered with it to make Arsen appear a demon?”

“The magic circle was drawn by the entire Ministry of Magic, working together.”
“Those who follow you!”

A flicker of unease crossed the faces of the mages who didn’t truly support Ian. What if Ian failed? Would their own heads roll for backing him?

“What do you want?”
“The magic circle is meant to amplify the Oracle’s light, even with minimal magic power. Correct?”
“Yes, under normal circumstances.”
“But this one is altered.”

Ian had revealed this at the conference: with the help of the priests, if a monster’s presence was detected, the circle would react differently.

“That’s right.”
“How can you prove this alteration is purely to detect monsters? Why not remove the magic circle and conduct the ceremony with only the Oracle’s light?”
“Without amplification, the light would be faint and insignificant. Do you want to mark the beginning of the first royal magician with such a weak display?”

“A trivial light? No matter how dim, it’s the very first light to come from the royal line. It will shine brighter than anything else. If you refuse it, I’ll have to assume you’ve tampered with the magic circle.”

Dilaina lifted her chin defiantly, making it clear she had no intention of backing down. Ian fell silent for a moment, and the murmurs among the nobles only grew louder.

“Why isn’t Lord Ian responding?”

“Exactly. Well, well.”

“Lady Dilaina’s demand is reasonable. The Carbo Temple is trustworthy, after all. The light of the oracle itself should be pure.”

Snap!

Ian flicked his hand, signaling for quiet, then pointed once more to the stairs—an unmistakable gesture that refusal was no longer an option.

“…Very well. Do as you wish.”

Clatter! Clatter!

The mages and priests stepped back from the oracle’s light. Once they were about three steps away from the magic circle, Arsen pushed through the crowd of nobles and walked forward slowly. The throng parted to avoid the young prince.

“Make way. This stage is for me.”

Arsen placed his hand on the oracle’s light and whispered to Ian.

Though he touched it with bare hands, there was no unusual reaction. The nobles exchanged glances, silently agreeing that Arsen was no monster.

“As you wish.”

With Ian stepping down as well, Arsen was left alone on the stage. The boy confidently raised his fingertips into the air.

And then—

Zzzzzing. Zzzing.

As expected from the mages, their eyes glowing, they unleashed their magic power.

A long, radiant beam of light stretched out.

The orchestra, which had been silent until then, began to play. The powerful melody sent beams of light scattering in all directions. The crowd gasped, covering their mouths in awe.

“Didn’t they say there was no amplification device?”

“This is incredible! Absolutely incredible!”

“Wow. Isn’t that supposed to represent the power of magic? It rivals Lord Ian’s strength! It’s truly a blessing from Bariel!”

Without the magic circle, the display was just as dazzling and beautiful as Ian’s. With flower petals drifting down from the ceiling, it felt as if heaven itself had been brought to life.

Arsen looked at Ian with a thrill of triumph. See this? This will be the last performance you ever hear from me, he seemed to say, unable to hide his delight.

“Uh…?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Look at that.”

“What is it?”

“Doesn’t something seem off?”

At that moment, someone muttered in confusion. Ian, watching Arsen from below, smiled.

“…Prince Arsen, there’s no shadow.”