Chapter 394
Tweller took a deep drag from his cigarette.
As the smoke traveled down into his lungs, swirling inside before rising again, Ian simply stared at him without moving. Despite the urgency of time, his eyes seemed to press silently, as if demanding answers.
Tweller couldn’t help but admit how different Ian was now compared to just a few nights ago under the moonlight. He had seemed like someone who wouldn’t break easily.
This was why magic was both dangerous and awe-inspiring—it could change even the strongest person in an instant.
“Sir Tweller.”
“I want to ask about the fissure beneath Clifford’s land. Is that information reliable?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“They say geological surveys are underway in Clifford, but isn’t that just speculation?”
Ian pressed his forehead as if hearing nonsense.
“The magical anomaly detectors installed along the border have been showing readings far more severe than usual. There have been several earthquakes, too, so the circumstances support it.”
“I find it more curious that you, Sir Ian, would use the phrase ‘circumstances support’.”
Ian was someone who based his judgments on precise, concrete facts—not just circumstantial evidence. Just like King Damon’s recent actions.
“I think we need to clarify exactly how King Damon knows about the fissure in Clifford. You mentioned the magical anomaly detectors—Bariel is responsible for those, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“If that information has been leaked, then we can’t rule out the possibility of a spy within Bariel, can we?”
The magical anomaly detectors were created by the Ministry of Magic and then handed over to the Imperial Palace Guard. The initial report had come through Jarrett.
In any case, the fact that Burgos knew about this was, as Tweller said, something to be wary of.
“It’s best not to rule it out. But we’re at war now. We don’t have the luxury to waste resources on that. It seems you’re curious about how King Damon is so certain about the fissure.”
“Exactly.”
Tweller smiled faintly and flicked his fingers. The cigarette smoke wavered slightly with the gesture.
“……”
Ian fell silent for a moment.
Damon’s certainty must come from his own experience. Since he had returned—reincarnated, even—he must know what had happened in Clifford.
Ian weighed whether sharing this with Tweller would be beneficial or harmful. Tweller had just earned the trust of the Crown Prince and was desperate to prove himself, grasping at his first real chance to solidify his position.
What would happen if he shared Damon’s secret—perhaps even a weakness?
“Sir Ian, if I may say, I am a man loyal to Crown Prince Jin. I am ready to give him all the glory—I swear on my life, on the comrades who died, on my own guilty hands, and on Bariel.”
Tweller sniffed the air. Ian knew something the Bariel Palace did not.
“Damon knows.”
Ian decided to reveal only half the truth. Neither a lie nor the whole truth, but a vague fact on the borderline.
“There’s a woman named Timothy. She was spotted in Bariel recently. His Highness knows of her. She came here searching for the ‘footless gypsy’—a seer who predicts the future. Damon is looking for her and seems to intend to use her, but like any gypsy, she’s elusive as the wind. Even the mages couldn’t stop her.”
“A prophet?”
“Something like that.”
Hmm. Tweller chewed on his cigarette.
Burgos was a country bordering the north, steeped in shamanistic culture. It wasn’t entirely unbelievable, but something felt off.
“I see. And one more thing.”
“Go ahead.”
“What if not all the mages return? Our mission is to ensure the safe return of the Ministry’s mages. To be precise, His Highness wants Sir Ian to come back to Bariel.”
What if not all the mages came back?
Ian turned his head, pretending not to hear, and looked at the shadows lurking outside. Everyone was waiting for their conversation to end.
“…Is Crown Prince Jin well?”
“Yes. Of course. His Majesty’s presence reaches everywhere in the palace. There’s nothing he can’t accomplish.”
At a young age, he had already done remarkable things—replacing the Minister of Imperial Defense with his own hand, learning how to place his people in key positions. Without a doubt, when he grows older, Bariel will enjoy its golden age.
Ian rested his chin on his hand, eyes lowered slightly.
“I’m glad to hear he’s doing well.”
Jin’s path was the path of an emperor. Ian knew this, and history had already drawn that fact.
Then what was his own path?
Rubbing his forehead, Ian asked Tweller,
“Minister, I’m sorry, but I’d like to be alone for a while.”
“Understood. I’ll follow Captain Jarrett as well. The Imperial Palace Guard is working hard to rescue the mages from foreign lands; our Imperial Defense Department can’t just stand by.”
With a creak, Tweller stubbed out his cigarette and stood.
Left alone, Ian quietly gazed out the window. The moon shone unusually bright, like a beacon guiding him out of the darkness where he felt trapped.
‘Naum.’
If you were here beside me now, what advice would you give? Asking myself that seemed to clear my mind.
The path I must take.
It’s not in the past or future, but something found within. The center of the world is myself, and only I can decide my path. That’s what you would say.
‘If history has drawn Jin’s future, then surely mine is drawn as well.’
A soft knock interrupted Ian’s thoughts.
A mage slipped a hand through the narrow gap, looking apologetic for breaking Ian’s request for solitude.
“Sir Ian, I’m sorry. There’s a message from the palace. I’ll just deliver this.”
The door clicked shut quickly. Did they know? Ian could see them all gathered outside, pressed close to the window.
He smirked and took the message, expecting it to be a reply from Jin—but the sender was the Prime Minister.
“…The Burgos envoy Timothy has naturalized alone.”
Cutting out the unnecessary words, this was the part that caught Ian’s eye.
So it’s come to this. Leaning against the wall, Ian repeated Timothy’s name over and over. Whether Damon had returned or he himself had been reborn, some things never changed.
If anything changed here, it would be a small drop in the vast current of history.
“…Beric.”
Bang!
Crash!
“Hey! Did you call me?!”
“Ah, you crazy bastard! What are you doing opening the door like that?!”
Ian whispered softly, but Beric heard and flung the door wide open. At once, a flood of mages poured in. Ian looked at them in disbelief, and they awkwardly smiled and stood at attention.
“Sir Ian, we were worried about you. We were guarding the door. Yes.”
“Ian! Why did you call me? Huh? Why? What’s up?”
“Should we go back out? You only need Beric, right? Captain Jarrett and Minister Tweller went into the operations room with Prince Noah.”
Everyone scrambled to stand and back away, but Ian shook his head.
“No. Bring them in. That’s why I called.”
“I see. Shall I prepare some food, then?”
“Yes. You must be hungry. I haven’t seen you eat anything lately.”
Ian looked at those who cared for him, tilting his head in wonder. Watching them now, he felt a strange sensation. As their leader, he had a duty to guide and protect them—but why did they follow him?
They all exchanged glances, sweat beading on their brows.
‘Is Ian crying again?’
‘Damn it, Beric opened the door suddenly. Damn!’
‘Someone say something, or call Captain Hale or even Captain Akorella.’
‘Are you crazy? Not Akorella!’
“Are you alright?”
They whispered among themselves, surprised by Ian’s unexpected question.
“Huh?”
“Ian, that’s what we were going to ask you.”
“Right. You keep speaking for us. Why don’t you say what you mean? If it’s not to mess with us, then it’s not your place. Think about it. Why is a smart guy like you acting like this? The ones who got hurt were because of the Luswena mages and that grim bastard Damon who started the war. So why do you keep acting like it’s your fault? What the hell are you? You… ugh!”
The mages gasped and clamped their hands over Beric’s mouth. They knew he was crazy, but this was next level.
They all groaned as they dragged Beric away by his limbs.
“Of course you’re something, damn it! You’re Sir Ian!”
“Ah, come on! It’s not like I’m wrong! No one needs to suffer, but if you’re struggling, then we all suffer too!”
“Ian, you’re having magical side effects right now, damn it!”
“That stuff doesn’t work on Ian! Don’t you guys know him at all?”
“No, we do. But… what’s going on? Did he secretly take something wrong?”
“Ian, we’re sorry. We’ll leave you alone now. Please, get some rest.”
Berrick was seriously pissed off. From trying to put him under the Imperial Guard’s command to acting out of character—it wasn’t just annoying, it was downright unsettling.
Ian stared blankly at him for a moment, then nodded slightly.
“…Sa.”
“Yes?”
“Bring food. Let’s eat together.”
“Oh, yes! Right away! Ian, when you’re hungry, your mind gets foggy. Good call.”
Ian still couldn’t accept it. Berrick’s words that it wasn’t his fault.
But if everyone said the same thing, even if he didn’t want to accept it, maybe he had to. He knew mental issues were tied to the self, making them hard to recognize on your own.
“Berrick, am I acting weird right now?”
“Yeah. Totally.”
“…I see.”
Berrick’s eyes widened, and Ian met his gaze calmly. Then he folded the imperial letter neatly and tucked it into his inner pocket.
At Ian’s command to fetch food, the mages bustled happily down the hallway.
“Eat, get some more sleep, then we’ll talk again. I’ll tell you if you’re really acting strange.”
“And if I still am?”
“Eat again. Sleep again.”
“When will we fight the war then?”
“I’ll fight it for you. This time, I’ll do it right.”
Ian didn’t realize it yet—that these small talks and letting others come closer was how you shared the burden.
He frowned at the fluttering feeling deep in his chest, and Berrick pressed his fingertip gently against Ian’s brow.
“Don’t frown. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Ah.”
A short gasp.
Jin woke up drenched in sweat. Xiaosi noticed the movement and lit the lamp. He called out to the young lord with concern.
“Your Highness?”
Had he had a bad dream? Xiaosi prepared a damp cloth and approached, but Jin threw off the covers and sat up fully.
It was still early dawn. There were many meetings during the day, and waking up now could cause fatigue.
“Your Highness, please try to rest even if it’s difficult. I’ll bring you some warm tea.”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Is there something you need to order?”
“…The documents Timothy brought.”
“Yes?”
Wiping the sweat dripping from his chin, Jin said firmly,
“I need to send copies to Lord Ian.”
In his dream, Roberside had appeared after a long time—the mysterious ancestor on his mother’s side who had protected him from Arsen’s evil.
Xiaosi wiped Jin’s sweat, and Jin gently pushed his hand away as he gave the order.
“Immediately. As fast as possible. Prepare someone.”
“…Understood.”
Otherwise, Ian would break—that was the cryptic warning. Jin’s heart pounded as he hurried to his study.