Chapter 414

“Ian, please calm down!”

“Hey, what are you doing? Not going to stop him?”

At the harsh voices, the mages rushed over and grabbed Ian. Even though he was a prisoner, he was still the king of an enemy nation. It was only proper, given the international situation, to guarantee him a certain level of respect.

Ian clenched his teeth tightly despite his subordinates’ protests and released Damon’s collar. The trembling in his jaw betrayed the depth of his fury.

“Oh, great mages.”

“Please, quiet down. Ian, are your hands okay? Why are you trying to handle this yourself?”

“Seems like the side effects of the magic haven’t fully worn off yet.”

“Yes. Leave this kind of thing to Clifford. There’s no good that comes from us interfering. You know that.”

“Please calm down, Ian. Let’s eat. Better to leave before that bastard Beric finishes everything.”

The mages gently tapped the back of Ian’s hand, their voices laced with concern. No one paid any attention to Damon, who sat slumped and powerless in heavy shackles—except for Hale.

Hale scanned Damon from head to toe, checking for any signs of trouble. No matter how much Bariel had contributed to the current war, this was a conflict between Clifford and Burgos. Damon was a prisoner during the truce, a king no less, so any problem could be used as a pretext.

Not from outside, but from within—the palace—there were those glaring daggers at them, watching closely.

“The rumors about the Magic Department have reached all the way to Burgos, huh? Looks like they weren’t just illusions. Sir Ian, you’ve done remarkably well for someone born and raised on the frontier, a lowborn no less. Honestly, bloodlines can’t be ignored.”

“King Damon, I told you to be quiet.”

“Or maybe you were just born that way?”

Damon smirked, brushing off his collar. The shackles clinked with his gesture. Hale, anticipating disrespectful remarks from the man, nudged the mages forward.

But did actions follow words? Damon revealed a secret about Ian—half-true, half-fabricated—that he knew.

“Is it because royal blood flows through you that you’ve found your place?”

The mages flinched instantly, their ears twitching reflexively as they tried to process what Damon had just said.

Ian only looked down at Damon with cold eyes, while Damon kept nodding and grinning.

“Say something, Ian!”

“Ian, he’s… he’s crazy. The King of Burgos has lost his mind. Ha ha.”

“No matter what, to speak of the royal bloodline like that is blasphemy of the highest order. You should be made an example of.”

“Yes. We can act without His Highness Jin’s orders. Shall we? Better to cut him and knock him out.”

The mages blurted out in panic. The more they did, the more Damon ranted nonsense—claiming Ian carried the royal bloodline.

“Those who doubt should return to Bariel for verification. I swear on everything that he is of the royal blood! What you see is not all there is. Who exactly are you following? Is the Ian you know really Ian? Huh?”

The sharp shout made the mages’ shoulders twitch. Hale quickly brought a gag and silenced Damon, then glanced at the soldiers.

No matter how tightly they controlled things, these men were from Clifford, not Bariel. If Prince Noah wanted to hear, he could. So it was best to frame Damon’s outburst as nothing more than baseless enemy bluster.

“Ian, it seems you want to interrogate King Damon. Shall we bring in Akorella? The truth serum isn’t fully reliable yet, but it should get you some answers.”

Love becomes love the moment you recognize it. Problems become problems the moment you acknowledge them. As Hale calmly ignored Damon’s struggles, the mages’ agitation slowly subsided.

“…Enough. The side effects are too severe.”

His Royal Highness the Crown Prince Jin needed to witness Damon kneeling and having his head severed with his own eyes—to demonstrate the empire’s dignity to the world. And Selena needed to see the author’s severed head as a final comfort on her journey to the afterlife.

All of this would serve as a sharp warning to Burgos and neighboring countries.

So they couldn’t just give Damon the hastily made truth serum now. It was better to return to Bariel quickly and administer the perfected version kept by the Magic Department. Since Ian was the head of the department, he could hear Damon’s true confession without interference.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Ian lightly brushed Hale’s hand away.

“Bind him tightly. Keep the gag on except when he’s eating or drinking. We’ll return to Bariel as soon as the camp is organized.”

Return to Bariel!

The mages couldn’t hide their joy, clasping each other’s shoulders in celebration. Clifford was a beautiful land, but how could it compare to home?

After all, the very reason they had left Bariel was to bring Ian here. They could proudly say their mission was complete.

“Yes. Let’s go back. Or perhaps Ian should return first? Mages and magic swordsmen are more mobile, so even if they leave later, they can catch up. If Ian takes King Damon and leaves first, we’ll follow shortly after.”

“Yes. Let’s split the forces in two.”

“First, let’s check those whose magic has returned. I’m halfway there. By evening, I should be fully recovered.”

Let’s send Ian back to the palace first.

All the mages thought so, winking at one another. Romandro was there, as was His Highness Jin, and most importantly, the palace Ian loved. It seemed better in every way to send him back rather than keep him in this unstable state.

Ian hesitated briefly, then nodded.

“Very well. Tomorrow morning, then.”

“Yes. Tomorrow morning! I’ll inform the Clifford side.”

“Also notify Minister Tweller. The Imperial Defense Department will provide escort troops. The palace guard includes Beric and Barsabe.”

The mages supported Ian as they glanced back nervously. Damon’s fierce gaze still followed them, so they avoided his eyes and focused on Ian. Ian seemed unmoved by Damon’s baseless words.

Is this normal? Was it just nonsense not worth reacting to? Or… given Ian’s usual nature, he would punish anyone who insulted the royal family—unless the offender was a king, in which case he let it slide?

Though Hale quickly shut down the topic, the mages couldn’t help but feel lingering doubts.

Tap.

They watched Hale help Ian ascend. Then someone muttered.

“Hey, guys.”

“Hm?”

“Just wondering… what if… just what if…”

“What’s with the ominous tone?”

“What if Ian is actually a hidden royal bloodline, and he created Idgal? What would you do then?”

“Bullshit.”

Laughter broke out here and there, but the one who spoke was serious.

If Ian was secretly of the royal bloodline—something the palace could never officially acknowledge—there had been plenty of rumors. That he was trying to seize power behind the young Crown Prince Jin. One way the royal family controlled mages was through magic-sealing stones.

They couldn’t be sure, but if Ian had created Idgal to challenge the royal authority, then Damon’s pendant reacting to Ian’s tracking magic might make some sense.

Though they had only fragments of evidence, one thing was clear.

“Is the Ian you know really Ian?”

Damon’s last words. There was something deeper, more secretive about Ian than anyone realized.

As the mages’ faces darkened, someone snapped their fingers in front of one of them.

Snap!

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

“Huh?”

“If Ian is royal blood, or if he made Idgal, what then? Have you heard any of this from Ian himself? It’s all just enemy talk. The minister hasn’t said a word, so why are we worrying about this?”

“Yeah. In wartime, all sorts of nonsense spreads. But whatever happens, I don’t think Ian would ever harm Bariel.”

They had watched him up close since the rebellion—throwing himself to save Crown Prince Jin, shedding tears over Selena’s death, charging alone into the Burgos leadership. No matter the doubts, Ian’s actions remained exemplary.

“Because it’s Ian, I want to believe there’s a reason and just watch over him.”

“Me too. Someday, he’ll tell us.”

They had defied palace orders and come all the way to Clifford just to meet Ian. If there was anyone to look to and follow, it was him.

“…You know, honestly, if it weren’t for Ian, I probably would have left the Magic Department long ago.”

There had been many storms. The mages had been caught in the middle, especially with the internal conflicts caused by Wesley.

But look at them now. Since Ian took office, they moved as one, as if they had always been united. Just as the gods are whole, so too were those closest to him.

There were moments when it felt like they had finally found their true identity—not just a mere division within the palace, but a vast, unbreakable bond.

“Wherever Ian goes, I’ll go too. Whatever Ian does, I’ll support it. So if anyone’s against it, please don’t say it in front of me. I don’t want to hear it.”

“But I’m just as good, you know?”

“Yeah, what do we really know? Let’s trust Ian and wait. Once we get back to the palace, there’ll be investigations about Idgal too.”

The mages tried to break the awkward silence by lightly punching each other on the shoulders.

Then, from atop the wall, a soldier on watch let out a suspicious exclamation.

“Huh?”

“What is it?”

“Look, I see the Bariel flag. Seems like reinforcements.”

Reinforcements?

The wall commander took the telescope, and the mages’ gazes immediately shifted in that direction. The war was over—what reinforcements?

More importantly, there had been no word from Minister Maxim Tweller. Since the Imperial Defense Department aimed to make a name for itself in this war, it was unlikely that anyone outside his faction had been dispatched. The pro-Tweller faction still in the palace wouldn’t have allowed that.

“Mages, come take a look. It is the Bariel flag, but there’s another emblem behind it. Looks like nobility.”

“Nobility? Was there a margrave bordering Cliffford?”

“Not that I recall. You check it out.”

One mage lightly jumped up onto the wall and brought his eye to the telescope. The emblem was familiar. The mage couldn’t help but say the name aloud.

“Seroga?”

“Seroga? That idiot?”

“Shh! That’s blasphemy.”

“It’s fine. This is Cliffford’s land, so no punishment.”

“Oh, really? What’s that dumbass doing here?”

“No idea. I’ll go meet them first. Feels like we’re way behind the curve.”

After informing his comrades, the mage began to release his magic to take flight.

Rumble rumble.

Whoosh.

A faint vibration pulsed through the soles of his feet.

He tilted his head, pressing his ear to the wall’s surface, and soon heard the unmistakable rumble of the earth.

An earthquake was coming.