Chapter 282
KABOOM! BANG!

Once again, a blinding flash erupted. The tremors crawling up from the ground grew heavier, pounding relentlessly, and cracks began to spiderweb across the protective barrier.

The wizards, noticing this, gasped in horror and shouted urgently.

“The shield’s breaking! Hold it together!”

“Everyone, fall back! It’s too dangerous—move now!”

“Focus on maintaining the barrier! Who’s in charge of the left side?”

While the mages scrambled frantically, most others remained frozen, eyes glued to the match.

Especially the Imperial Defense Department officials on the second floor—they were leaning far over the railing.

This was a critical moment.

What if—just what if—Jaret lost…?

KABOOM!

At that instant, two figures emerged from the smoke. Beric and Jaret were tangled on the ground, each gripping the other’s nape with their left hands.

Unlike Beric, whose long sword limited his range of attack, Jaret was free—his sword was pure magic, without a fixed form.

When Jaret unleashed his power against Beric’s temple, Beric’s head snapped back at a right angle and flew away. A breath of relief swept over him.

“…Gah!”

Jaret gasped harshly, rubbing his own neck. They had grappled together, yet why was he the only one on the brink of death? If he’d been a moment slower, his neck might have snapped, he thought without realizing it.

It had been a while since he’d felt this way.

Confused, blood boiling, and yet somehow exhilarated.

“…Ha. Ha ha.”

Beric bled from his nose, mouth, and ears. The deep red staining beneath his eyes made him look like a monster that had just feasted on a man.

“Ugh, thought my head was gonna come off.”

The palace guards covered their mouths in stunned silence. Had they ever seen their captain bleed during training? Or struggle this much?

Absolutely not. Maybe the late Beols or Riama had, but no one in the current guard had ever shaken Jaret like this.

“Captain!”

“Beric, don’t you have any pride as a swordsman?!”

“This is cheating! Stop the match!”

“Minister Ian! This is unfair!”

The guards shouted protests from all sides, but Ian remained calm and unhurried. He passed the complaints to the official in charge.

“Is there any evidence that Beric’s actions were unfair?”

“Well, that is…”

It wasn’t exactly fair, but it wasn’t clearly unfair either. All the rules had been followed. There was a ban on drugs, but magic wasn’t classified as a drug.

The officials rushed to headquarters to verify the complaints from the guards and other departments.

Crackle! Snap!

Bang! KABOOM!

Then, the continuous roar suddenly ceased.

Beric’s sword pressed tightly against Jaret’s throat.

Jaret’s sword hung suspended in midair, tracing a curve before stopping.

Both men instinctively froze, sensing the match was over. As the raucous noise that had filled the arena died down, an astonishingly deep silence settled.

“What now? Continue? Or forfeit?”

“……”

Jaret sighed and raised his hand—a sign of surrender. As he unclenched his fist, the magical sword faded, leaving only a faint trace.

“Woooo! I won! Old man’s got it!”

“…Be-Beric!”

“Romandro! Did you see that? Did you see? Amazing! Crazy! Ahhh! This is awesome! Ian, you saw that, right? I just went ‘snap’ and won! Damn it! I’m the captain now!”

Beric ran around wildly, cheering like a madman. The silence broke as the crowd erupted into applause, the palace folk murmured anxiously, and chaos quickly spread.

“Man, that was insane! He beat the captain! His name’s Beric, right? Still unaffiliated magic swordsman?”

“Unbelievable! Bam bam, pow! This is incredible.”

“Whoa. Is his side okay? That wound looks pretty deep.”

“It’s fine! A hole in the side means he’ll be stronger once it heals. Hahaha!”

“Yeah, definitely not normal. Not in the usual category.”

“Captain! Captain! Are you alright?”

“Get a healer! Captain!”

“We just witnessed something rare. Someone surpassing the captain in training! We have to celebrate tonight!”

The palace guards rushed to support Jaret. His arm was cut, and wounds ran deep all over. Limping, Jaret refused their help.

“I can walk on my own.”

“Captain, this was your victory.”

“Yes. So don’t be too discouraged. We—”

As his subordinates offered clumsy consolation, Jaret’s face twisted with genuine displeasure. Wiping the blood from his neck, he replied sharply.

“What are you all saying? Have you forgotten the meaning of this match?”

The main goal of this selection was to choose two captains. Naturally, Jaret had expected a tough fight and hoped for just that.

The three captains would unite to protect His Majesty the Emperor and lead the palace guard as comrades. He never imagined Beric would rise this far.

“Hey, you! I remember your face clearly. Don’t forget, if I become captain, you’ll be working for free. Hahaha!”

Beric stuck out his tongue, mocking the guards.

Some bristled, hands on their swords, but their comrades held them back. Was it worth the trouble? Even if they fought, victory was uncertain.

“Enough. Ignore him.”

“Let’s wrap this up. Captain, shall we move?”

“Palace Captain.”

Ian called to Jaret, leaning casually against the railing. Compared to the bustling staff behind him, he looked utterly relaxed. It was easy to guess how pleased he was that his subordinate had defeated the captain.

“You did well. I’ll send healers to your department. There are still nine left; focus on managing them. If your condition is uneven, it could raise fairness issues.”

“Minister! Are you giving me medicine after poisoning me?”

At someone’s cheeky retort, Ian raised an eyebrow. His gaze instantly turned icy. Neither his rank nor status would tolerate such insolence.

He shook his head, issuing a warning with a chill dripping from his words.

“Be careful. I don’t want to know your name.”

“My apologies, Minister. I’ll get treatment and see you again soon.”

Jaret stepped forward, shielding his subordinate as he spoke, then hurried out of the training ground.

The palace guards followed, glancing back at Beric, who was being hoisted on shoulders amid the crowd. Every face was etched with worry for the future.

“Let’s get up, too.”

“Yes. Let’s.”

The Imperial Defense officers exchanged glances and rose. They offered formal congratulations to Ian, but that was all. Their words were hollow and quickly faded.

“This is maddening.”

“Shh. Ian’s still in sight.”

“What good does that do? No one will hear us.”

“Well, I can understand the guards, but the captain’s position? That crosses a line. They’re supposed to protect the Emperor’s closest circle. It’s absurd.”

The officers vented their frustration and concern. With Jin, the heir apparent, firmly in Ian’s grasp, his influence was undeniable. Now, he was extending it right beside the Emperor?

It was as if the empire itself was slipping into Ian’s hands. Those unaware of the Emperor’s frozen state shook their heads, refusing to accept reality.

“This is too dangerous. Honestly—”

Honestly, even if Ian assassinated the Emperor and the heir, who could stop him? The royal line would be severed before anyone noticed.

It was too close. The Emperor’s side was off-limits. The officers exchanged wary glances, urging caution.

“Watch your words. The mages are still nearby.”

“Yes, I know. Sigh, but still.”

“First, let’s check on Captain Jaret. Assess his injuries and sort out the schedule. That’s best.”

And then plan a response. Only Jaret could stop this crisis. He was the current palace captain and held decision-making authority.

The officers’ footsteps all turned toward one place.

Tap tap tap!

The crisp sound of marching echoed down the corridor. Despite the stiff atmosphere, people murmured and stepped aside. Disorderly, yet everyone acted in their own way.

“Hey, you! Good job! But stop now and come up here! Your side’s worse! You need treatment, okay?”

“Got it! Romandro, Xia! Where’s Xia? Oh, there!”

“……”

“Did I do well? Huh?”

“……”

“He never talks at times like this. Makes me wanna bite him.”

Beric grinned, baring his fangs teasingly. Xiaosi just nodded briefly. Beric clung to him, ranting nonstop. Romandro, unable to handle it, stepped forward to take him away.

“Your Highness, please wait a moment.”

“Alright.”

As Jin exchanged handshakes with Beric, he suddenly glanced over at Ian. He had expected to see him enjoying himself, or at least smiling—but instead…

“Sir Ian?”

There was something oddly calm and unreadable about Ian’s expression. Maybe it was because the surroundings were so noisy, but standing there alone, he drew even more attention.

Ian was staring straight ahead.

Jin couldn’t tell what he was thinking—

Snap, snap!

“Sir Ian?”

“Oh, Your Highness.”

Jin stepped closer and gently tugged on Ian’s sleeve. As if the thoughts that had been weighing him down shattered instantly, Ian smiled.

Ah, thank goodness. Whatever was on his mind, it was good to break through it. Jin casually urged him on.

“Let’s tend to Beric’s wounds and call it a day. We should head back early.”

“Yes. That sounds best. It’s been quite hectic.”

“Things must be chaotic inside and out. Captain Jarrett lost to a rookie, after all.”

Ian clasped Jin’s hand in agreement. Meeting his gaze, he spoke quietly.

“Yes. There will probably be a lot of rumors, Your Highness. It will be noisy for you as well, so it’s best to steel your heart.”

Though the meaning was vague, Jin simply nodded in understanding. Perhaps pleased by this, Ian playfully scrunched his nose. Jin followed suit, scrunching his own.

*    *    *

“Aha! It’s true what they say—you’ve got to earn your keep! Whoa, this table’s gonna break! Hey, eat before it does! Let’s dig in! Bon appétit! Go on, enjoy!”

Beric sat perched on the edge of the bed, shoveling meat into his mouth with both hands.

The doctor wrapping his bandages beside him frowned awkwardly, but Beric had no concern for such things. How could anyone stop a man who was drumming his own beat, greeting everyone with such gusto?

Romandro picked up the clothes strewn on the floor and scolded him.

“If you knew you had to earn your keep, why didn’t you start sooner?”

“Romandro, come on. Don’t you know life’s all about that one big shot? I just beat the captain! When I become captain, right? It’s good for me, good for Ian, and good for you too!”

“Your way of speaking is getting more and more like a street thug…”

“Ahhh! This is delicious! Oh yeah!”

Ian sat at the opposite table, watching the scene unfold. Fortunately, Beric’s wounds didn’t look too deep.

“Good work, Beric. Congratulations in advance on your victory.”

“Yeah, I worked hard. But since I’m captain now, how about you congratulate me properly?”

Beric corrected himself mid-bite, tearing into the meat. Ian smiled gently but declined.

“Sorry, but I don’t think I can do that.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t you hear? This time, the selection for captain includes an internal evaluation by the Royal Palace Guard.”

Thunk.

Beric dropped the piece of meat he was holding. Romandro, recalling Captain Jarrett’s remarks during the tournament, let out a small gasp.

They said that, learning from Riama’s betrayal, the Royal Palace Guard would now conduct character assessments.

“What? What did you say?”

“Originally, it was all about skill, but this time it’s different. There were concerns back then, but now everyone’s relieved. You could say Captain Jarrett was ahead of his time.”

“No way! What kind of nonsense is that?”

Beric slammed his fist on the table, meat still in hand. The doctor pinched his side, silently begging him to calm down. But Beric ignored it, clutching his head in frustration.

“Please, just be quiet!”

“Ugh, if I’d known this, I wouldn’t have given up my salary!”

“That’s not really the point, Beric.”

“Damn it, don’t stick your tongue out at me!”

“…Doctor, continue the treatment.”

“Ahhh!”

The doctor dodged Beric’s flailing arms overhead as he tightly wrapped the bandages. His expression said it all—he wasn’t sure if he was treating a man or a wild beast.