Chapter 312
“Stop.”
“Pardon? Your Majesty, may I ask why?”
“I said stop! Halt the carriage!”
Startled by the king’s sudden command, Timothy knocked on the window by the driver’s seat. Since the carriage wasn’t just rolling on its four wheels, the driver shouted to the escort carriage ahead to slow down.
Damon leaned out the window and glanced back at the distance they’d just passed. It all happened so fast. The spot where he had locked eyes with the gypsy was now far behind them.
Screeeech!
Skreeeek!
“Damn it.”
“Your Majesty!”
As soon as the carriage stopped, Damon flung open the door and dashed out. He veered off the well-paved main road, pushing through the crowd, shouting for a path, and even knocking over cumbersome market stalls in his haste.
Timothy hurried after him, bewildered by Damon’s passionate outburst. Wasn’t this the same man who always maintained his composure? Even when the late king died, or when a new mine was discovered, he never showed such raw emotion.
“Make way! Clear a path!”
“Ahhh! Don’t shove, damn it!”
“The stalls are all falling over! Damn it, you fools!”
“Who’s that? A foreigner? Looks like someone from the palace.”
“Don’t block the way! Move! Damn it! Your Majesty!”
“Stop using titles! Shut your mouth!”
Chaos erupted. Soldiers following Damon clashed with the citizens, and Timothy ordered everyone to keep the king’s identity secret.
Even if word got out later, there was no need to announce that this was the king of Burgos right now.
Pat pat pat!
Damon was gasping for breath, but he didn’t stop running.
He had expected this. From the moment he first entered Bariel, he had foreseen this exact scenario. The arrogant gypsy would appear before those searching for him and greet them with mockery.
Damon arrived at the spot where he had seen the gypsy and looked around.
Huff, huff…
“Y-Your… no, Master!”
“Please, clear the way! Just a moment!”
“You knocked over my stall! You owe me compensation!”
“Enough already, damn it. Master, where are you? Please, stop for a moment!”
The crowd was so thick that Damon couldn’t even see the soldiers nearby. A child sitting on the steps pointed him in a direction.
“Looking for Grandma?”
“…What?”
“She said she had to run away—went that way.”
The child pointed toward a dark alley. Narrow and shadowy, barely wide enough for three or four people to squeeze through. Even amid the festival’s bright cheer, there were always places untouched by light.
Without hesitation, Damon slipped inside. But after turning a couple of corners, he realized he’d been tricked. He’d hit a dead end. There was no fork or secret passage.
“Damn.”
He pressed his palm to his forehead, standing still. Could he have imagined it? Was it just a hopeful illusion? No, the child by the steps had confirmed the gypsy’s presence.
But…
Something felt off. Ian Hielo from the Magic Department had been certain the gypsy had fled abroad, without a shred of doubt.
The gypsy was extraordinary, yes, but did they really have the power to evade the watchful eyes and ears of the mages? Did Ian Hielo truly believe the gypsy had escaped to another country?
If so, it was both disappointing and a relief. It meant that those who claimed godlike power had clear limits—and that they were still manageable opponents.
If Ian didn’t know, that would be pathetic. But what if he did? What if he knew the gypsy was in Bariel and deliberately withheld that information from Burgos?
Whoosh.
A gust of wind curled through the narrow alley.
Damon frowned and leaned against the wall. If the gypsy and Ian Hielo had some secret contact, and if that was being hidden from Burgos, the situation was serious.
There were only so many ways to find out the truth, and right now, Damon had only one option. He whispered quietly, using the distant festival noise as a shield.
“I am—”
If he returned to the palace, the portraits would hear, and the mages’ surveillance would catch him. Only this shabby alley, born of impulse and chance, could hold Damon’s secret.
“My name is Damon Runkvis. I live two lives.”
He instinctively covered his mouth and braced himself against the wall. His heart felt like it was stopping.
To be able to speak his secret… the secret he had sold to the gypsy, to have it passed on by his own will… This couldn’t be. The gypsy wasn’t even dead—how?
…Did I give away the secret? To whom?
Just as he had given away his secret and gained his parents’ secret, someone else must have done the same.
The shock made him nauseous. The sickening feeling was so strong he could barely stand.
“Your Majesty!”
At that moment, Timothy’s voice called from behind. He approached with a troubled expression.
“Your Majesty, what’s wrong?”
“You…”
“Wait a moment. Here! Everyone, get the carriage ready!”
“Yes, understood! The Bariel guard has arrived.”
While Timothy gave orders to his men, Damon’s mind twisted into knots. Timothy had been chasing the gypsy for months.
Should he tell him?
Should he say he saw the gypsy just now?
“Your Majesty, what is the matter? You don’t look well.”
Damon steadied himself and looked up at Timothy.
Before returning home, he had ‘coincidentally’ met Ian Hielo during his mission. Ian had immediately understood the gypsy’s whereabouts at the banquet.
And in his previous life, he had abandoned his homeland…
“Is there anything you wish to instruct? The guards have arrived, but I will handle things well.”
Timothy asked with concern, but Damon shook his head.
“That’s enough.”
“Pardon? But—”
“I said enough.”
For now, the only places where his secret could have leaked were the palace’s inner circle—specifically, Ian Hielo and the crown prince.
If the royal family harbored something big enough to exchange for his secret, it wouldn’t be surprising.
…And above all, Timothy.
He was the one who chased the gypsy directly. Maybe he heard the secret from the gypsy and let them go.
Damon couldn’t be sure. The more he counted the possibilities, the more infinite they became.
He brushed past Timothy, who was watching him with worry, and left the alley. The child who had been sitting by the steps was gone without a trace. The street was a mess, chaos itself, caused by the confusion he had stirred.
“Please, let me through! Okay?”
“No! Wait! Or go around that way!”
“Why are there so many people? Move aside! Just one corner more and we’re there.”
The guards formed a human barrier, clearing a path, and Damon climbed back into the carriage as if nothing had happened.
Timothy gave instructions to the captain while arranging the carriage.
Screeeech!
Pat pat pat!
The carriage resumed its journey. Timothy, sitting opposite Damon, wore a puzzled expression, but Damon remained silent, watching the outside.
How could he confess to a suspicious ally that he had seen the gypsy? They had mocked the idea that the gypsy had crossed the Bariel border into another country.
“Your Majesty, did I make a mistake?”
“The departure schedule is set, right?”
“Yes. The crown prince ordered the Burgos kingdom to leave first. We’ll depart tomorrow afternoon, followed by Cliford and then Luswena.”
“After reporting to the palace, go to the Magic Department. Tell them I want to meet with Minister Ian Hielo.”
“Why Ian Hielo?”
A genuine question. Timothy needed to understand why the king was meeting a foreign minister to assist as his aide and envoy.
The magic stone trade was a matter to be settled by Captain Akorella, so there was no need to meet Ian. The accompanying mage would report as necessary.
Besides, Ian’s standing in the palace was weak right now, so it made sense to plan carefully, even for small matters…
“You only have one thing to say: ‘I will obey.’”
Damon scolded Timothy with a cold glare. It was a clear, hostile warning not to speak further.
Why was he acting like this? Damon had sensed something odd since jumping from the carriage, but this was excessive. Timothy bowed his head, embarrassed and worried.
“…Yes, Your Majesty. I will obey.”
Even on the well-paved stone road, the carriage felt like it was shaking violently. Damon frowned deeper, irritated by the rising nausea, and Timothy glanced out the window, uneasy.
The festival crowd looked so happy—what was he even doing here? He just wanted to finish his mission and return home to his wife and child.
A mage carrying a thick stack of documents turned a corner in the corridor. The office door was half-open. The mage made a loud noise as if to announce his presence and poked his head inside.
Knock knock.
“Are you there?”
“No. Go away.”
“You’re here. I have a message.”
Romandro greeted the mage. His cheeks were sunken from handling the aftermath of the march in Ian’s stead.
Captain Hale and Beric were sprawled on the sofa. Hale was exhausted from channeling magic to Ian, but why Beric was lying there was a mystery.
“A message? From where?”
“From the Prime Minister.”
“Hmm. They never give us a break, do they? The inauguration just ended—wouldn’t it be nice to drink and relax? Huh? Isn’t that right?”
“How is Ian? Is he feeling better?”
“Fortunately, the bleeding has stopped. What about the other mages?”
Romandro flipped to the first page of the report, nodding slightly. The inner door was half-open, revealing Ian’s profile—he’d passed out after receiving Hale’s magic. He lay perfectly still, his even breathing remarkably steady.
The mage shrugged and whispered, realizing his voice had been a bit too loud.
“They say he overexerted himself, but it doesn’t seem serious. Ian had it the worst. While everyone else was dizzy and drooling, he was the only one bleeding. Should I relay that message again?”
“Hm? Wait, let me see.”
Romandro focused on the text, running his fingers along his chin with a troubled expression. Beric, who was lying upside down on the sofa, tugged at his pant leg and asked,
“What’s wrong? Judging by your face, it looks like someone just lost their family estate.”
“Well, um… the Crown Prince Jin has canceled all his appointments this afternoon…”
“Can’t blame him for being tired. Haah. I’m sleepy too.”
“They’re moving his residence from the Ministry of Magic back to the old palace. They want us to start packing.”
“The palace? You mean that wrecked palace?”
“I’d heard the repairs were almost done, so I figured he’d return eventually. But isn’t this a bit soon?”
Just a little further into the office was Jin’s quarters. As Crown Prince, it was only natural he couldn’t stay in a department’s residence.
Still, it was disappointing. Though there were sad and painful memories mixed in, there were also times of laughter and joy. Romandro sniffled, feeling like a parent sending a child away.
“Ah, you’re crying again. There’s no need.”
“Aren’t you sad? Hey, the Crown Prince is moving to another palace.”
“What’s there to be sad about? He’s not leaving the country. We’ll still see him all the time. Anyway, there’s something else on the next page.”
Romandro shot Beric a glare and scanned the note. It was an addendum from the diplomat in charge of Burgos.
“The King of Burgos will be coming to the Ministry of Magic and wants to meet with Ian. Apparently, he left the palace regarding the mana stone.”
“I heard something happened on the way.”
“What kind of ‘something’?”
“I don’t know. There was some trouble with the carriage, and the roads were blocked. That’s just hearsay, though. We’ll know more once he arrives.”
What should they do? Ian wasn’t in good shape; it might be better to postpone the meeting. As Romandro pondered deeply, Ian, who had been lying quietly, opened his eyes.
“They’re leaving.”
His half-conscious mind sharpened the moment he heard about the Crown Prince’s move. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, Ian called for Romandro. His head throbbed painfully, but lying down made it bearable.
“Romandro.”
“Oh? Ian, you’re awake? Ah, damn it. Beric’s voice was way too loud.”
“Ha, that’s funny. You were the one talking the most!”
“Shut up! Both of you, be quiet!”
“…Enough. Hand me the report.”
“Here you go!”
Still lying down, Ian checked the note. The King of Burgos had personally requested a meeting. Whatever his intentions, there was no reason to refuse. Ian nodded and said,
“…We should get some work done before King Damon returns.”
He was ready to face the meeting head-on.