Chapter 342

The envoys from Burgos entered Clifford Palace, their nation’s flag wrapped around their left arms. Their strides toward the audience chamber were proud and sharp, so much so that the attendant guiding them ahead felt almost chased.

As dusk settled over the dim palace, lights flickered on here and there, and the sunset flared like a blaze, burning through the night. King Clifford sat upon his throne, ready to receive the envoys.

“Welcome, envoys of our neighbor.”

“We greet the King of Clifford. It is an honor to be received so graciously despite our sudden visit.”

With a crisp gesture, the Burgos envoys traced their national emblem near their hearts. Though they were guests in a foreign land, the Burgos delegation had never once abandoned their own customs in Clifford. Seeing this, the courtiers exchanged glances, hiding their displeasure behind their sleeves.

“Indeed. Your sudden arrival is curious. What brings you here? Has something happened in Burgos? Has King Damon passed away?”

Though the king’s tone was dignified and warm, the question was sharp and chilling—he was asking if their king was dead. It was as if he couldn’t fathom such a breach of etiquette otherwise.

The envoys clenched their teeth and bowed deeply. How dare a mere farmer-king discuss the death of their sovereign?

“No, Your Majesty. We come because we heard that Clifford was ambushed on the way back from Bariel’s investiture ceremony. King Damon sent us personally to inquire if Burgos could be of assistance.”

“Ah, how kind of you. But rest assured, no such incident occurred.”

“None at all?”

“None. But do not be too harsh on your subordinates.”

The king laughed heartily, stroking his beard. This was a probing conversation about the relationship between Clifford and Bariel. It was clear there had been some conflict, but judging from the king’s answer, it seemed the situation hadn’t changed much.

‘There was a clash, but no real problem?’

Clifford couldn’t afford to fall out with Bariel, nor did it want to. Surely some arrangement had been made. The envoys exchanged glances.

“That is a relief. Clifford is currently safeguarding Burgos’s jewels, is it not? We wondered if the conflict might have damaged them, and if we could offer assistance…”

“Hmm, no.”

“Pardon?”

“Those jewels aren’t Burgos’s—they belong to Bariel. They were a gift from the Crown Prince himself. Surely you understand the significance of a royal gift?”

“…We only meant that the jewels were crafted in Burgos.”

“Be careful with your words; misunderstandings are easy.”

King Clifford chuckled as he teased the Burgos envoys, who bowed their heads, suppressing their own smiles.

“Now, when you say ‘assistance,’ what exactly do you mean? Surely you don’t intend to send jewelers here. Clifford has many skilled jewelers of its own.”

To be honest, compared to the harsh, arid Burgos kingdom, Clifford’s culture of leisure and indulgence was more dazzling and refined. Naturally, if one were to compare jewel crafting, Clifford’s artisans would be superior.

The Burgos envoys shook their heads.

“No, no. The jewels are heirlooms passed down through generations of Burgos nobility. If any damage occurred, our family’s caretakers can handle repairs flawlessly. Even if a piece chipped or fell off, it’s no problem. We still have smaller pieces of the same kind, and if entrusted, we can restore them perfectly. King Damon’s concern is that if anything happens to the jewels gifted by Bariel’s Crown Prince, it might cause trouble for Clifford.”

The king rested his chin on his soft cheek, looking down at them. It was a kind of proposal.

Noah had told him that Burgos’s jewels were an important means of uniting the nobility. This was a subtle request to return the jewels under the pretense of repair, without Bariel knowing. From Clifford’s perspective, even if Burgos refused to hand over the jewels, they’d have a valid excuse to argue with Bariel.

But what to do? The jewels were no longer in their possession.

“Very well. Convey our gratitude to King Damon.”

Noah Prince had already handed over the Idgal jewels to a mysterious group as payment. The Minister of Magic and Bariel were aware of this.

Any open defiance against Bariel was now absolutely forbidden. Whether it was fortunate or not that Ian had fallen, Clifford could now use that as a bargaining chip to appeal to Bariel’s sense of compassion.

In any case, Clifford’s stance was clear: they would side with Bariel unconditionally. Binding the mages was part of that strategy.

“…Your Majesty, if it’s not too much trouble, may we see the jewels while we’re here?”

“Hm. That would be rude. Clifford has no obligation to show them. You’ve been asking as if we’ve been neglecting their care, which is quite unpleasant to hear. The jewels are safe and sound, so rest assured and report well to your king.”

The king laughed heartily and cut off the request. Continuing to press on the jewels would be seen as questioning Clifford’s competence and trustworthiness. He was firm in refusing to discuss it further.

“What about the Black Moon?”

The king hesitated. The Black Moon—the rift from which the mages had poured forth.

Even if he wanted to feign ignorance, everyone in Clifford’s capital was already talking about it. The Burgos envoys must have easily caught wind of it.

“Are the mages in Clifford?”

“……”

The king fell silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. His gaze swept over his courtiers, resolute yet cautious.

The opposition faction among the courtiers seemed to think they hadn’t missed their chance to intervene. Burgos had sensed something and sent envoys, but if there were no mages here, Clifford would have no reason to confront Bariel. Some courtiers shook their heads, worried they might be stirring trouble unnecessarily.

But the king made no request for their opinion and declared:

“Yes. Bariel’s mages are currently stationed in Clifford.”

“……!”

“……!”

The envoys looked surprised, and the courtiers closed their eyes tightly, as if they’d made a grave mistake.

A strange silence filled the audience chamber. The Burgos envoys bowed even lower and asked:

“May we ask why they are here? Burgos and Clifford share a border. If magical matters arise in Clifford, they could affect Burgos as well.”

“It is a personal matter. There is nothing to report to Burgos.”

“But Your Majesty—”

“It’s too late now. We will arrange a place for you to rest tonight. Perhaps you should return early tomorrow.”

Though he smiled gently, he was still a king. This was his way of saying he had already given them enough time for such an unexpected meeting.

The envoys only parted their lips slightly, swallowing their sighs before bowing.

“Then, we shall pay our respects again upon departure tomorrow.”

“Do so. Rest well. We will offer you many things you cannot taste in Burgos. Everyone, treat the envoys with utmost hospitality.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

With that, the king gestured, and attendants appeared carrying goblets adorned with gold and jewels. The envoys reluctantly accepted the cups and watched as rich wine was poured.

In that moment, the king spotted Mei and raised an eyebrow, as if asking whether Prince Noah had come to fetch the mage. Mei frowned and crossed her fingers in an X.

“…Your Majesty?”

“Ah, well then, drink up. There’s no better wine to whet the appetite.”

At a subordinate’s call, the king gave permission to drink. The envoys downed the wine in a single gulp, then wiped their mouths. Perhaps due to the fruitless journey, their faces twisted as if the wine were bitter.

“Excuse me, but such rudeness before the king—”

“Indeed. This is why Burgos people are…”

Clatter!

As the courtiers murmured, one who had been grimacing suddenly threw down his goblet and collapsed forward. The sound of the cup rolling across the marble floor and his choking breaths filled the room. Everyone froze in shock.

“Ugh, ugh… cough…”

“Hey, what’s wrong? Breathe! Breathe!”

“What’s happening?”

“Ugh! He’s coughing up blood! Doctor! Doctor!”

“Hey! What is this? What’s going on here?”

“This is our concern. What are you all doing?”

“Breathe, man! Your pupils are dilating!”

Chaos erupted instantly. The envoys frantically tried to save their comrade, while the courtiers called for a doctor and formed a protective line around the king. When someone reached for the golden cup, a Burgos envoy shouted:

“Stop! Don’t touch it! We must examine the cup thoroughly to see what was done to it!”

“Do you even realize what you’re saying? That we—us—did this?”

“He collapsed right after drinking!”

“Outrageous! You wretched scoundrels!”

“Everyone, calm down, please—!”

Clatter! Bang!

The king ordered everyone to calm down, but the atmosphere quickly heated up, becoming uncontrollably intense.

The envoy’s guards drew hidden daggers and crouched low, while the palace soldiers surrounded them at a distance with long spears. Just as the king was about to shout again—

Screeeech.

The reception room door slowly creaked open. Through the gap as it swung wide, Prince Noah appeared.

Behind him came Ian’s group. A gust of wind swept in with their arrival, stirring the senses of everyone present.

“This is quite a commotion,” Ian said, leaning over Prince Noah’s shoulder as he stepped forward. People began to step aside one by one. Even the envoys, frozen by the unfamiliar pressure, looked up at Ian.

Ian knelt down and checked the breath of the fallen man.

“He’s dead.”

“D-dead, you say?”

“What are we to do, Your Majesty?”

One of the envoys had died without even closing his eyes. Ian’s words sparked a renewed murmur. The envoys shouted angrily, warning the king.

“We represent Burgos and come on behalf of King Damon! How can this be allowed? Clifford must explain immediately and prepare to take responsibility!”

“Shh. Sir, your ears.”

“W-what are you—!?”

“Me? Beric.”

Beric gently placed his hand over the shouting envoy’s mouth. The envoy tried to push him away, but Beric covered his mouth from the other side.

“Shh. This place is too big; it echoes. Ian said we need to keep quiet.”

“You crazy bastard! Who the hell are you?”

“Beric, I said. Sir, are you an idiot?”

Ziiing. Ziiing.

At that moment, a glow surrounded the fallen envoy.

Hail and Akorella were using magic to examine the body, checking for any magical devices or traps.

“Ian, the body is clean.”

“Yes. No signs of any spells or curses.”

“T-they were mages, of course! They died right after drinking the wine! We must officially protest—!”

“Why only one?”

Ian’s clear voice rang softly.

The envoys looked puzzled. Ian wiped his hands on a handkerchief and scanned them all. Five envoys in total, and five guards.

“There was only one bottle of wine. How could only one person die? If you can’t logically explain this suspicious situation, then there are only two possibilities.”

The envoys sent by Damon didn’t expect to die. Or—

“Are they sending a signal to their homeland through the number of deaths?”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying!”

“In wartime, rapid communication is crucial. Since we don’t know how Clifford will respond, they’re sending information through the incident itself. For example: if one dies, it means ‘mages are stationed here.’ Two deaths mean ‘no mages present.’ Three deaths mean ‘presence unknown,’ and so on.”

Ian met each envoy’s gaze as he spoke, and the room quickly fell silent. The only sound was Akorella scraping her shoe on the floor to wipe off blood.

“If you don’t understand, that’s fine. Your Majesty, King of Clifford.”

“Y-yes, yes, Ian.”

“I beg you, detain these men separately. It would be wise to confirm whether they are sending signals to Burgos.”

If they are, that could be turned to their advantage. The king nodded blankly and asked,

“Y-yes, but how?”

“Akorrella.”

“Ah, yes! I’ve already written down what we need. Please get it within the hour. This is a kingdom, after all—I think it’s possible. It won’t be exactly the same, but close enough.”

At Ian’s command, Akorella pulled out a note from her pocket. A nearby courtier unfolded it and muttered,

“…A recipe for a truth serum?”