Chapter 350

The King of Klipoford stared anxiously at the marble floor beneath him. Just hours ago, the envoy from Burgos had bled out and died right there, yet now not a trace remained—the floor was spotless. His courtiers bustled about, hastily carrying out orders to summon the soldiers, while the king waited for the audience chamber doors to open.

Though Klipoford had endured many wars, both great and small, with Burgos, the king always felt uneasy before making any decision. The tears of a child crying over a devastated vineyard after battle were as bitter and deep as the drought that could wither an entire nation’s future.

With a sharp click, the awaited doors swung open, drawing every eye.

“Noah, Sir Ian.”

“Father, thank you for waiting.”

“No, no. Waiting? How could I say such a thing? Come, tell me what you’ve learned.”

Noah peeled off his blood-soaked leather gloves as if tearing away a second skin. The sharp scent of iron and the dank smell of the cellar hinted at the brutal interrogation that must have taken place.

The king looked on with a pang of sympathy. His son bore the burden of all the palace’s dirty work, taking on the grim tasks the frail king could not face. Though Noah seemed unfazed, the king rubbed his aching nose and steadied his voice.

“Did the Burgos envoys come here fully aware of what awaited them?”

“No. Only one of them knew—they came here to die. By the end, they were nearly unconscious, so we couldn’t get much from them. But yes, that’s the truth.”

Noah glanced toward Akorella as he reported.

They had hoped for just enough effect, but the potion’s impact wildly exceeded expectations—truth extracted at the cost of coughing up blood.

Acorella stepped forward, a proud smile on her face as she jotted down notes.

“Your Majesty, here’s what the Akorella’s truth serum revealed: if one envoy dies, it means a mage is stationed here and they want to observe the situation longer. Two deaths mean a mage is present but immediate entry is permitted. Three deaths mean no mage is present. Four deaths mean no mage and entry is forbidden. Also, coughing up blood was seen in earlier versions of the serum, but this time it seems to come with pain—likely due to insufficient refinement—”

“Acorella.”

Ian’s sharp gaze cut her off. She hesitated, then glanced between her densely written notes and Ian, muttering softly.

“Oh. Did I cross a line?”

“Your Majesty, this is Acorella, the potion expert of our Magic Department.”

“Ah, so she’s the one in charge. That explains it.”

“Explains it, you say…”

“A compliment, of course.”

“Wow! Thank you!”

The king recalled clearly the first impression of Acorella, syringe in hand, grinning broadly. He waved his hand to lighten the mood.

Regardless, it was now clear that Burgos had used the lives of their own envoys—men who trusted and followed him—as mere signals. No matter how young the king, such inhumane tactics were excessive.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Truly astonishing. Even the previous dynasty would not have dared such measures. A reckless move beyond all bounds.”

“No need to approach it recklessly, Father.”

“Burgos must have made a firm decision. Conflict is inevitable. While they await news, this is our chance. Noah, what do you think?”

“I agree, but currently, Bariel’s mages are stationed in Klipoford. To protect our citizens and theirs, and to maintain an alliance with Bariel, it’s best to avoid a preemptive strike.”

Noah looked to Ian, who nodded in agreement. Everyone accepted Ian’s proposal without objection. Unlike the bloodied Noah, Ian was neat and composed, sleeves rolled up.

“As you know, justification is crucial. Sending envoys with ill intent isn’t enough. After all, they died inside Klipoford’s palace—whether from wine or some unknown poison.”

Acorella gave a thumbs-up and smiled, clearly impressed by the perpetrator’s audacity. The king averted his gaze, unwilling to dwell on it.

“Unless Klipoford can claim a stronger justification. Haven’t these two nations shared a long history?”

“Too many to count.”

There were lingering disputes over southern borders, disagreements over compensation, and cultural conflicts that had sparked past skirmishes. Living side by side, there were plenty of reasons to bring up.

But none were sufficient to suddenly declare war, and more importantly, none provided a righteous cause to seek Bariel’s support.

“Those disputes are mixed with Klipoford’s own interests. To prevent Luswena’s interference and secure Bariel’s cooperation, we need to present Klipoford as the clear victim.”

The king grasped Ian’s point without further explanation. Ian nodded in satisfaction and relayed the suggestion to Noah.

“Therefore, I recommend we do not officially announce the envoys’ deaths. Admit only that they entered the palace and fell ill from some unknown disease, and that Klipoford is caring for them.”

“Won’t they send people to check on the situation?”

Acorella asked, but Ian smiled as if it were no problem.

“The envoys will still be sick.”

“Hmm.”

If every envoy sent from Burgos suddenly went silent, Burgos would grow suspicious and likely see it as a pretext for invasion.

Furthermore—

“It seems the people of Klipoford enjoy singing. Perhaps spreading rumors would help.”

That three of the first envoys died.

That their bodies were seen being carried out of the palace.

Such rumors would quickly reach Burgos, reinforcing their doubts and justifying their suspicions. The king murmured thoughtfully.

“Three deaths. A sign there’s no mage.”

“They may not take it at face value, but we lose nothing. The envoys did die, after all. If Burgos starts the war, Bariel will have ample reason to intervene.”

“Ample reason to intervene?”

“I personally couldn’t form a contract spell, but the palace has many mages. If you proceed with what we couldn’t before, we can assist in the initial conflict between Klipoford and Burgos.”

Ian gestured, and Hale stepped forward. The contract would be forged through magic between the king and Hale, acting on Ian’s behalf.

“I will also send word to Bariel, informing them of the situation and requesting reinforcements. This will help prevent a prolonged war and minimize damage.”

If Bariel holds the border and intervenes when conflict is imminent, they can mediate and seize the advantage.

The king rubbed his plump cheeks, deep in thought.

“When the time comes to hand over the Burgos envoys’ bodies, what then?”

“No problem. We’ll say Burgos invaded, cutting off medicine supplies and causing their deaths.”

Klipoford would claim to have treated the envoys humanely to the end, and that their deaths were ultimately Burgos’s own doing. With those two points, there’d be no grounds for external accusations.

As long as the palace keeps tight control over information.

“We can keep the bodies, but if they deteriorate too much, we can dispose of all but a lock of hair. The key is to publicize that all fault and damage originated with Burgos.”

“You’re the head of the Magic Department, right?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The king’s expression twisted oddly. He’d heard mages were intelligent, but were they all this bold? Such daring plans from someone who’d spent their life in the palace bureaucracy. Well, perhaps being from Bariel and dealing with Klipoford’s affairs made Ian more audacious.

As it stood, the envoys were dead and the course of events set. The question was which way to steer the current.

“Very well. Let us forge the contract we couldn’t before.”

“A wise decision, indeed.”

“But you’re not really in pain, are you? I saw you collapse earlier, Sir Ian. It was nerve-wracking. Your first impression was a bit… unsettling.”

“That was a side effect of a personal matter. You needn’t worry with Captain Hale. I swear this by my name as head of the Magic Department and my loyalty to Bariel.”

Swearing on Bariel’s name left no room for doubt.

The king extended his hand, and Captain Hale knelt, taking it with both hands. Noah gripped the hilt of his sword, prepared for any emergency, when Beric leaned in and whispered.

“But, Your Highness—”

“What? Don’t pretend to be friendly and whisper in my ear.”

“Your Highness, when will the curse strike again? I saw it happen to your brother, even in broad daylight.”

“…Do you really expect me to answer that? Fool.”

“Fool? Calling a fool a fool really hurts, you know? I was just worried about you suddenly getting hit during battle. Forget it.”

Noah rolled his eyes and turned back to watch over his father.

A soft, glowing magic shimmered gently, radiating brightly. Complex and dizzying spells blossomed and faded, shifting through a spectrum of colors. The king watched the spectacle in rapt fascination, then suddenly remembered something and asked,

“But I’ve heard rumors that three reapers have died. I doubt they’d believe that in Burgos. Wouldn’t it be better to say only one died?”

Ziiing. Ziiing.

“No, it doesn’t matter whether they believe it or not. Since we’re going to do this anyway, it’s better to say there are no mages at all. Your Majesty, please be careful with your words. Captain Hale isn’t as focused as I am.”

“Ian!”

“Oh, sorry.”

The moment he said that, the spell faltered. Was this really so difficult? Last time, Ian had just smiled and cast it right away.

King Clifford eyed Hale suspiciously, while Hale closed his eyes tightly, concentrating on the binding magic. Sweat dripped down his face as a faint light wrapped around both their wrists before fading away.

Ziiing. Ziiing.

“D-did it work? Right?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. It’s done.”

“I always thought mages were supposed to be smart, but I guess not all of them are. Sweating like that, struggling so much?”

“…Your Majesty, I’m perfectly fine. Ian is the one who’s the minister.”

Hale wiped his sweat, embarrassed.

King Clifford curled his fingers, fascinated by the strange sensation in his hand. Ian gave a light clap, as if to snap him back to attention.

Snap.

“Your Majesty, and Your Highness, one thing above all else: we must keep this strictly confidential within the palace. Please be mindful of that.”

“Of course. I’ll be careful.”

“Good. Now then, shall we begin preparing properly for Burgos? Let’s throw out the bait.”