Chapter 410
While Ian had Damon’s hair firmly in his grip, the ones who found themselves in the most absurdly awkward and difficult position were actually the Luswena side.
Luswena had just been hit with Bariel’s trade sanctions and, at the same time, suddenly clashed head-on with their main forces. Surrounded by an endless wave of blue magic surging through the forest, they couldn’t even retreat toward Burgos and had to face Gaia’s massive army.
“Your Majesty! This is a disaster!”
But the head of the Magic Department had grabbed the king by the scruff of his neck? In effect, the outcome was already decided before anything else could be done.
If there had been a worthy successor within Burgos to take his place, things might have been different. But as far as Eriphoni knew, Damon was the unshakable pillar of the monarchy in Burgos.
Back when Damon’s parents were alive, there had been rumors of half-siblings and step-siblings, but those were just rumors, weren’t they?
Eriphoni strained her eyes, peering through the telescope Eldert had given her, trying to spot gaps among the Burgos soldiers.
“It seems King Damon has been captured.”
What the hell? Eriphoni barely swallowed the curse rising in her throat and scanned the battlefield where the fighting was still raging. No matter how she looked at it, Luswena and Bariel were clearly hostile toward each other.
If only she had delayed the order a little longer! Trying to support the battle between Burgos and Clifford had backfired completely. She slammed her bow down roughly and covered her face with her hands.
“What should we do, Eldert? We’ve come too far to talk peace with Bariel, but Damon’s fate is in Ian’s hands. What’s the best course of action?”
“Whatever you decide, Your Majesty, I will follow. But in my opinion, it might be best to retreat and reassess the situation. There could be internal strife in Burgos, and we still have no information about the earthquake. If Bariel holds us accountable, we can use that as a shield to deflect blame.”
Burgos—and specifically Damon—had promised a false future in their alliance. If Luswena could spin themselves as victims of Bariel’s schemes, they could reduce much of the responsibility and compensation they’d have to bear for the war.
Though with Ian’s strict and old-fashioned nature, it was uncertain how well that would fly.
“But what are those? The reinforcements from the north Bariel mentioned—they’re running wild without reading the situation.”
“They’re the Atan tribe.”
“The Atan tribe?”
“Yes. That woman with the afro is the famed monster hunter, Efdiram. I’ve heard rumors that she awakened as an Atan and now travels with her group. She’s a mage, and her closest companion is a magic swordsman. They once operated alone in the north, and wherever they stayed, monsters seemed to vanish.”
The problem was that they were so wild no one welcomed them.
Eriphoni bit her nails nervously and looked away. They still had the black-armored soldiers and mages. If the Atan tribe could hold their ground, maybe they could somehow keep the war going.
Whatever happened, ending it like this was the worst option for Eriphoni. A war that yielded nothing. Of course, war was a gamble where defeat meant losing everything, but right now, it felt like she’d lost her hand before even playing a card.
In this situation, pushing forward was the best card Eriphoni could play.
“Eldert. Summon the mages.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
First, they’d send the mages out as scouts again. This time, they needed someone who would do their job quietly and efficiently.
The Bariel soldiers rampaging across the land could be handled by the mages. They had to make a decision before Bariel’s mages joined the fray.
“Mages!”
At the soldier’s call, Zaira turned her head.
They were struggling to maintain the front lines, waiting for Eriphoni’s orders. To keep Bariel’s blind arrows and spears from reaching the king’s feet, and to minimize Luswena’s casualties.
“The queen urgently requests your presence. She needs scouts again.”
Ping! Clink!
Scouting! Zaira’s eyes sparkled. Something had happened in the battle between Clifford and Burgos.
With Bariel’s main forces suddenly crashing in, this was a shortcut for Zaira. She could request reinforcements to leave the Luswena palace and defect to Bariel.
“Uncle! You’re going!”
Zaira grabbed the shoulder of the man in front of her and shouted, then whispered against his cheek as if wishing him luck.
“Uncle, whatever you see on the scout, lead the Luswena reinforcements to where they’re needed most and report back. The queen wants hope. You remember what we talked about in our tent, right?”
If the battle quieted, they’d need reinforcements for the future, and the mages would be the messengers to deliver the news quickly.
Then everything would go smoothly. The mages returning to Luswena could bring documents and family members to Bariel, and those remaining would defect as soon as they heard the news. Simple and easy—if only Eriphoni could hold onto hope in this war!
Zaira’s uncle nodded and followed the soldiers, soon disappearing into the distance.
“Zaira, what did he say?”
“I made sure he understood.”
The other Luswena mages glanced over worriedly. Zaira’s plan was simple and clear, but the others, weighed down by years and experience, found it more complicated.
What if they didn’t send a mage as messenger? What if they couldn’t evacuate their families from the palace? What if they defected to Bariel only to be treated as hostages? All sorts of negative, messy worries filled their minds, but Zaira smiled brightly.
“If I go to Bariel, I can save Grandma. I’ll go to the Abyss and take her hand myself. I can do it. Grandma, just wait a little longer. Please.”
Ping! Clink!
Whoosh!
Zaira deflected the incoming arrows with a protective shield, and the energy scattered across the Clifford land on the wind.
“That’s working.”
One of the mages muttered, leaning against the barrier.
The wild colts had vanished, replaced by the Atan tribe gathered calmly as if on a picnic. Centered around Efdiram, they were deep in discussion, but despite the intense atmosphere, it didn’t seem very productive.
“Yeah. The ‘let’s talk over a meal’ approach worked. Those same people who were wildly swinging swords and shooting arrows just moments ago.”
“Maybe it’s just survival instinct.”
“I’m betting they’re deciding what to eat.”
Thanks to Ian’s sudden grab of Damon’s neck as he stormed into the command post, peace had settled over the war. Soldiers no longer killed each other, Burgos awaited their fate, and Clifford’s forces simply hoped for a return to normalcy.
Burgos’s army had quieted for now, but the problem was the Atan tribe. What if they insisted on continuing the war?
No one could predict how things would unfold inside Burgos. Perhaps a new leader would rise, or a hero would emerge from the chaos somewhere in that camp.
“I don’t get why they keep charging like that when it’s hopeless.”
“That’s their nature. They eat monsters and run wild however they want. How great must that be from their perspective?”
“It’s pointless. Futile. We have enough mages here; once they recover, those guys won’t be anything. Honestly, the palace guard could probably handle half of them—they’re mostly ordinary people.”
“Open the gates!”
Amid the mages’ chatter, Efdiram stepped forward and shouted. The gates slowly swung open. Accompanied by a subordinate, she strode confidently into enemy territory.
Creak. The mages looked down at her entering, then naturally turned and descended the stairs. Bariel’s mages had gathered to greet Efdiram.
“Where’s Bariel’s lackey?”
“The Atan chief. His words are extremely unpleasant.”
“Oh, was he? Then what about that handsome guy?”
“…Call him Minister Ian Hielo. Otherwise, there will be no negotiations.”
Handsome guy? Hale hesitated briefly but then threatened her. It didn’t faze Efdiram at all.
“Who are you to meddle in the positions your superiors created? If you want to remove me, go ahead. But make sure you tell them it’s their problem, not mine. Got it? I really hate it when messages get twisted.”
Efdiram pressed her fingers into Hale’s chest, laughing. Beric sat on the stair railing, looking down at her with disdain, seemingly unaware he was confronting himself through a third party.
Efdiram glanced around inside the barrier, circled once, then nodded.
“So, where do we go? Are you just going to keep us standing here? You said we’d talk over a meal. Our people ran all this way starving.”
“Suck your thumb!”
“That little runt might be satisfied with that, but we’re on a whole different level. Redhead. And don’t interrupt when adults are talking.”
“Sounds like something an adult would say! Anyone under a hundred is just a friend!”
“Is she really part of the Bariel Imperial Guard? She said so herself earlier.”
Judging by their silence, it must be true. Efdiram whistled and clapped her hands together.
Had the Atan tribe ever been part of the Bariel Imperial Guard? There wasn’t a long history of it, and since so many came and went like the wind, she couldn’t say for sure. But as far as she knew, Beric was the first.
Efdiram popped a piece of gum into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully, as if to cleanse her palate.
“This way.”
“Is your superior feeling any better? The way his magic was draining was no joke. I wonder what the hell they did to Idgal.”
As Efdiram muttered with interest while following Hale’s lead, the mages all came to a halt.
Ian’s condition was definitely bad. It was as if there was a hole somewhere in his body, leaking magic. They all assumed it was the effect of Idgal. They figured time would heal it—naive, yet tinged with blind faith.
“What?”
“Why the shock? You saw the magic circle coming out of Idgal earlier, didn’t you?”
“…Do you even know what that is?”
“Oh? Look at these guys.”
Efdiram was the one surprised now. Did the Bariel mages really not know this? This is why you can’t have delicate flowers growing in a greenhouse. She clicked her tongue and crossed her arms.
“That’s ‘Chusae’—literally, ‘debt collection.’ It means accepting a debt. Magic that temporarily demands great power or, for some reason, steals abilities from your future self.”
She shrugged, curious.
“But why it’s linked to Idgal, I have no idea. And that’s from the enemy country, the Idgal that belonged to King Burgos. Did the Minister of Magic have some connection to it in the past?”
At her words, Hale flinched as if caught off guard. Didn’t Ian confess that his unknown past was what created Idgal?
Efdiram draped an arm over Hale’s shoulder and laughed.
“Idgal or Damon—whenever something’s connected to them, everyone’s bound to be surprised, right?”