Episode 31

While the healer peered into the flowerpot, the clan members watched anxiously from behind. Their eyes begged the old man to confirm that it was indeed the Silask. After carefully flipping through the leaves and examining every angle, the healer finally declared,

“It is Silask.”

“Damn it! No way!”

“Thank the gods!”

“Then hurry up and brew the medicine! Winchen’s breath is growing faint!”

A burst of short cheers erupted at the healer’s words. They embraced one another, offering prayers of gratitude to the gods. Only the clan chief, Kakantir, remained composed at the center.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. Compared to existing records, this is definitely Silask. The number and thickness of the leaves, their color and scent, the shape of the roots—all match expectations. And above all, according to the foreigner’s testimony, the flower bloomed and never withered, correct?”

The most crucial characteristic had already been confirmed through Winchen, so there was nothing more to add. The chief nodded and urged,

“Then brew the medicine at once.”

“But…”

A slight hesitation. Yet it was enough to freeze the atmosphere inside the tent.

“The quantity is the problem.”

“Quantity?”

“The records say three roots must be brewed for a full cure. Winchen’s strength is already greatly diminished, and this pot contains only two roots. It will likely only serve to put out the immediate fire.”

They were short on the amount needed. Still, they chose to focus on the positive.

“Even just putting out the immediate fire is a blessing. Prepare the decoction quickly. Start with one root first.”

“Yes, Kakantir.”

“And send for Ian outside…”

He trailed off mid-command. Everyone looked at him, puzzled. After a moment’s thought, Kakantir corrected the formality.

“Summon Sir Ian Bratz.”

After all, he had brought the Silask to them of his own accord to assist the chief. Whatever his motives, as chief and as a member of the Cheonryeo tribe, this was a clear act of goodwill. They had an obligation to honor their promise.

Clack.

Ian entered the tent calmly. He seemed to have already heard the commotion from outside. He glanced at the flowerpot on the table and smiled.

“Perhaps it knows this is its last day—it’s especially red today.”

“Sir Ian Bratz.”

He placed a hand over his chest in greeting—the same formal gesture Nersarn had shown at the manor. When Kakantir returned the greeting, the others bowed their heads as well.

“I sincerely thank you for your help.”

“I heard the quantity is insufficient, though.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you helped. By the way, I have some questions. Please, have a seat.”

His tone had clearly shifted. As chief of the Cheonryeo tribe, it wasn’t full formal respect, but there was definite deference in his words.

“Please, speak.”

“Is it possible to obtain more Silask from Bratz?”

If Winchen died, someone else in the tribe would take her place. That was an unchanging truth. And over time, that person would also need Silask. In the long run, cultivating the red flower was essential for the Cheonryeo.

“I cannot say for certain.”

“Explain in detail, so we can understand.”

“The flowerpot is indeed mine. But to be precise…”

Ian hesitated. To explain the exact origin of the pot, he would have to mention Philia’s existence, which implied his own half-blood status.

It was something he would reveal someday, but whether now was the right time was another matter. As Ian fell silent, everyone inside the tent held their breath, eyes fixed on his lips.

“Sir Ian?”

“I’m sorry. It’s something I’ve had since childhood, but I don’t know how it came into my possession. There is someone who might know, but I cannot meet them right now. It will be at least two weeks to a month before I can make contact.”

It was true that Bratz was a more advantageous location than the uncertain southern lands, being only a few days’ travel away.

“Does that mean Count Derga doesn’t know about Silask either?”

“No one at the Bratz manor knew of the flower. I only learned of it after arriving here.”

Ian had considered formally requesting trade goods, but if it wasn’t even circulating within Bratz, that was troublesome. Kakantir tapped the table thoughtfully.

“…Then why does it take two weeks to a month to make contact?”

It was a distance that could be covered in three or four days if one wished. Was the person who knew Silask elsewhere? Ian nodded as if confirming Kakantir’s suspicion.

“There are circumstances that make it difficult to see them in Bratz.”

“May I ask for details?”

“…I would like to, but if so, you must make one more promise.”

What could it be this time? Ian wondered if he was about to request to be sent back to Bratz.

‘That would be difficult.’

“Grant me the right of first negotiation over Bratz.”

“Right of first negotiation?”

Ian’s words caused a stir among those behind him. Weren’t they all united under the Bratz family? To speak of a right of first negotiation between father and son was to suggest internal strife.

Kakantir frowned.

“You intend to overthrow your father?”

“The strong sit in the leader’s seat. Isn’t that the way of the Cheonryeo as well?”

True. He wasn’t in a position to judge. The Cheonryeo were the very embodiment of survival of the fittest. Kakantir realized this conversation was taking an increasingly intriguing turn.

“Sorry, but I cannot grant the right of first negotiation. You cannot command Bratz’s soldiers, nor increase the grain supplies you provide us.”

It was a way of saying, “Why should we trust someone with no power?” But despite Ian’s denial, Kakantir noticed a smile tugging at his lips. He expected Ian to satisfy their curiosity.

“Very well. I will speak first. If you believe this information justifies granting me the right of first negotiation, swear to the gods to keep your promise with me.”

“I swear.”

There was nothing to lose. Kakantir leaned back in his soft wool chair, inviting Ian to speak. But the words that followed stiffened him instantly.

“The imperial palace will send an inspection force with the army. The charge: treason through tax evasion. Within a month, the name Bratz may be wiped from existence.”

“What? Treason?”

“Did he just say that?”

“The army is coming down from the palace?”

Murmurs spread like wildfire. No one could believe it. Kakantir’s deep brown eyes fixed on Ian. Even without Winchen’s gypsy abilities, he could tell Ian was telling the truth.

“Is it true?”

“I swear to the heavens it is.”

“How do you know this?”

“Before the peace talks, officials came from the central government to assess whether I was a suitable candidate for the treaty. I heard it from them.”

“If the Bratz family is wiped out, you won’t be safe either.”

“That’s why I came here. If Bratz falls, the Cheonryeo will be in trouble as well.”

The Bratz family and the Cheonryeo tribe shared a border, maintaining a tense relationship. Not exactly friendly, but they respected each other’s territories.

But if Bratz disappeared and the emperor’s central army took up garrison there? Would the empire’s emperor treat the border barbarians like Derga did? Even if a new count was installed, would they maintain relations?

It would be a monumental shift in the political landscape.

“What about Count Derga? Does he know?”

“I don’t know. Even if he did, it would only lead to pointless bloodshed. Treason is punishable by beheading, regardless of the emperor’s mercy. I took the desert path to protect the territory as best I could.”

“What does that mean?”

“If my father dies and the territory is left vacant, I want you to lead the warriors and enter the Bratz lands with me.”

“That’s absurd! Kakantir!”

An old man listening from behind shouted in alarm. But unlike him, Kakantir and Nersarn’s eyes gleamed sharply. They sensed Ian was hiding something else.

Kakantir spoke thoughtfully.

“If Derga dies, it means the emperor’s central army will be in the territory. Facing them would be difficult.”

“I understand. But they will try to avoid conflict with you.”

Because they are preparing for a real rebellion. They would never want to fight the border barbarians, especially an enemy whose strength is unknown.

“Why?”

“The chief demands a great deal from me.”

That was his way of saying he couldn’t reveal more.

Kakantir’s tapping on the table grew faster, signaling his mind was racing.

“The Cheonryeo only need to stand behind me. It would be good if you could say something like, ‘As an ally of Bratz for many years, we stand with Ian Bratz, now part of the Cheonryeo family.’”

“But then the empire might point their swords at us?”

“The vast desert and the Cheonryeo warriors? I doubt it. It would likely be the opposite.”

From the central government’s perspective, having Ian manage the territory would be the most effective way to control the Cheonryeo. Depending on Ian’s intentions, it could even hint at full independence.

If the territory became independent, all the effort to purge Derga would be for nothing.

“War with the empire doesn’t always mean drawing swords. They will choose the easiest and cheapest method. Even if conflict breaks out, if you don’t want it, you can always return to the great desert.”

“Sir Ian, you’re speaking of something tremendous.”

“This is something I’ve been thinking about even before we crossed the desert. If you help me—if I can protect Bratz, or more precisely, the territory—I will show you the true power of an alliance the Cheollyeo tribe has never experienced before.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. With peace, military rations would dwindle, and the territory’s granaries would surely fill to the brim. That meant everyone could live well-fed.

“Wait a moment.”

Nersarn, who had been quietly listening, raised his hand. His expression showed he didn’t quite understand.

“Please, go ahead.”

“You said that treason is a capital offense punishable by extermination. Your name is Ian Bratz, the son of a traitor. Isn’t it reckless to return to the territory? No matter how much we cover for you.”

“As expected of you, Nersarn. That’s a very important point.”

Ian clapped lightly and smiled.

Then he emphasized once more.

“I am indeed Derg’s biological son.”

He made it clear there was no question about their blood relation.

“But legally, I am not. I have not been officially registered yet. So my name isn’t ‘Ian Bratz,’ just ‘Ian.’”

“What?”

A murmur spread through the hall. But what Ian said next silenced everyone completely.

“—Therefore, the Empire cannot legally charge me with treason. That is why I can become the new lord of Bratz.”

Of course, if he slipped up, he’d be reduced to a slave. But that was information there was no need to share with the Cheollyeo tribe.