Chapter 419

On the blood-soaked plains of Klipoford, a new development had taken shape. The fallen bodies that had yet to be dealt with were moved aside, creating a vast open space.

From the hillside, figures from Luswena, Burgos, and even some third parties watched this scene with puzzled expressions.

The king of Burgos had been captured. Wouldn’t that mean the war was over? So why was Klipoford creating such a space?

The ordinary soldiers, unable to understand, quietly touched the word “home” that they had folded away deep in their hearts. But their questions were soon answered.

“Huh?”

Movement was spotted from the Luswena side. Soldiers escorting a dazzling horse, carrying a bright yellow flag held high. Anyone could tell it was the king’s procession.

If the defeat hadn’t been so crushing, everyone would have looked on with reverence. But now, even those dressed in rags only cast suspicious glances.

A sharp neigh!

Then, movement came from the Burgos side as well. Specifically, the war mages and a small number of tribes from the north. Each was a representative of their tribe, summoned by Ian.

As they pondered what might happen next, they didn’t hesitate. They spurred their horses and galloped toward the center of the plains.

This war had been fought to save their tribes. If it ended in defeat, not only their own safety but the very survival of their peoples would be at risk. Their opponent was Bariel.

Screech.

The gates of the Klipoford barrier opened. They had pitched a massive tent of pale silk, and soon a blonde boy stepped out—Ian.

Countless mages followed the small, young boy. As he turned, the mages parted left and right, clearing a path. Then, the king of Klipoford rode out slowly on horseback. Ian gestured with his hand, signaling the barrier, and took command of the entire procession.

Originally, this should have been Prince Noah’s role, but the prince followed quietly behind the king, accepting Ian’s orders without complaint. After all, if his father—the king and father of Klipoford—had no objections, why should he?

Bwooo—

The sound of water buffalo horns announcing their meeting echoed loudly. The king fixed his gaze straight ahead, refusing to look at the mountains of corpses piled on either side. Soon, he came face to face with Eriphony, who had arrived first at the tent.

Eriphony dismounted gracefully and nodded slightly in greeting.

“King of Klipoford, it has truly been a long time since we last met. Your son is the pride of Klipoford—I never expected to see him here.”

“King of Luswena, your tongue is far too sharp for an invader. Even now, the stench of blood and the cawing of crows churn my stomach.”

Eriphony was momentarily taken aback but quickly masked it. Despite her appearance, her words were like blades.

In truth, this was somewhat expected. Eriphony admitted she had made an arrogant mistake, believing she could somehow turn the situation around. She smiled faintly and shook her head.

“Invader? I regret that our presence has disturbed the beautiful lands of Klipoford. But we too were deceived by Burgos. In a way, we are victims as well. This meeting is to clear up misunderstandings—Your Majesty, please share your grievances openly, and we will do the same.”

She never uttered an apology. To do so would be to admit Luswena’s fault, which could weaken their position in the negotiations to come.

Just as the king of Klipoford was about to respond—

Swish.

Ian parted the tent flap and stepped inside.

His arrival instantly sharpened the atmosphere among the northern chieftains and Eriphony’s group. Here was someone even more alert and decisive than Klipoford’s king.

Eriphony wiped the smile from her face and studied Ian. Though pale overall, he showed no obvious injuries.

“Is everyone here?”

Ian gave the Klipoford king a look, as if to ask why he was still standing. The king took his seat first, followed by Eriphony and the northern chieftains. Ian stepped forward and introduced himself.

“I am Ian Hielo, Minister of Magic for Bariel. This meeting is to discuss the aftermath of the Klipoford invasion, including reparations and measures to address the fractures caused. Though I am Minister of Magic, I speak here as Bariel’s representative. Everything said here will be reported to His Majesty the Emperor, sovereign of the Great Empire, so please choose your words carefully and show proper respect.”

With that, Ian grasped the edge of the table.

“If anyone does not wish to participate in this dialogue, you may leave this tent now.”

The chieftains showed no intention of leaving, and all eyes subtly turned toward Eriphony. She nodded lightly, signaling her willingness to proceed.

Ian snapped his fingers, signaling for a map.

Swish.

“Due to the recent battles, the damaged areas of Klipoford include the border regions adjacent to Burgos and Luswena, as well as the Bakki village and several other settlements. While exact figures are difficult to determine, estimated damages exceed one million gold coins.”

The chieftains involuntarily gasped. One million gold coins? The average monthly wage for a commoner was about one gold coin. For these small tribes, even ten thousand coins were beyond their means.

“In light of this, half of the burden will fall on Burgos, the other half on Luswena. The tribes that fought alongside Burgos will share the Burgos portion.”

“Wait, wait.”

Eriphony raised her hand at Ian’s demand for war reparations.

The amount was absurd. The capital hadn’t even been breached; the fighting had lasted only a few days outside the barrier. And yet, one million coins? This was outrageous.

“I must reiterate,” Eriphony said quietly, pressing her words, “Luswena was also deceived by Burgos. King Damon misled us with false information, and that must be taken into account. King of Klipoford, I express my sincere regrets for the unintended damage caused. Luswena will do its utmost to aid in Klipoford’s recovery, but we cannot ignore that the reparations demanded are excessive.”

“False information?” Ian interrupted, folding his arms.

“At most, it’s a difference in how the spoils of war are divided, isn’t it? King Eriphony, from Bariel’s perspective, Luswena’s actions are indefensible. And there’s more I haven’t mentioned—this is only the reparations for Klipoford.”

The chieftains’ faces paled. If there were reparations for Klipoford, that meant there would be separate reparations for Bariel.

“Please, continue to listen.”

Ian subtly emphasized the alliance between Bariel and Klipoford, quietly asking Eriphony to hold her tongue.

If Klipoford received reparations, some of that would flow back to Bariel as a gesture of goodwill to an ally.

In other words, all the gold and assets exchanged here were like salt flowing into Bariel’s coffers.

“While Klipoford suffered heavy losses among its common soldiers, Bariel’s losses among mages have been severe. Your marksmanship was quite impressive, Your Majesty.”

This was both an accusation that Eriphony had directly targeted mages and a mocking jab that she had failed to hit them.

Eriphony’s expression stiffened, but Ian’s face softened.

“When I return to Bariel, I will have mountains of duties to perform for the imperial palace, but the current situation makes that impossible. Therefore, Bariel demands reparations of ten million gold coins. This too will be split evenly between Burgos and Luswena, with the tribes sharing Burgos’ portion.”

“Preposterous! Ten million coins?”

“More precisely, five and a half million coins, Your Majesty. If you find the calculations unclear, I can provide a written breakdown.”

“Do you think I’m asking because I don’t understand?”

“If not, then what is your question?”

Ian’s retort implied that a defeated nation had no right to complain. Eriphony bit the inside of her cheek, restraining herself.

“…Five and a half million gold coins is equivalent to several years’ worth of Luswena’s budget.”

“Pay in installments. With interest, of course.”

“I must see the Crown Prince himself. You have no intention of acknowledging Luswena’s grievances.”

“Why should Bariel recognize Luswena’s grievances?”

With a soft rustle, Ian calmly flipped through documents detailing the reparations owed by the defeated nations.

“Besides gold, deliver one thousand slaves and ten treasures from each royal palace to Klipoford and Bariel. These too will be divided accordingly—”

“No. I cannot accept any of this here.”

Eriphony’s resolve hardened. She judged that continuing the war might be more advantageous than paying such enormous reparations. It might be better to wait for Bariel to withdraw, then circumvent and seize Klipoford.

To accept these terms would mean Luswena’s utter collapse—joining the war only to be powerless and branded a defeated nation. Upon returning home, public support would plummet, and opposition within the palace would grow louder.

Right. Rather than war, through Alenara, end the Author’s breath and absorb the remnants of Burgos’ forces to wage war…

Swish.

Eriphoni glanced at the chieftains. The Authors looked just as troubled. Even on a national level, this was a heavy burden—how could a small tribe possibly accept this willingly?

They, too, had joined the fight to solidify their power in their own lands. If they returned now, everything would be over. Whether by death or some other end, it would be final. So wouldn’t it be better to keep fighting, to cling to even the faintest hope?

“And what of you?” Ian asked lazily, tilting his head. He was asking the northern strangers if they, too, found the proposals from Clifford and Bariel unacceptable.

But unlike Eriphoni, they couldn’t respond with such confidence. Though Ruthwena was smaller compared to Bariel, it was a country with vast lands, a large population, and powerful mages. Their relations with neighboring states were friendly, so if a direct conflict with Bariel erupted, there were nations—including Hwan—that could mediate.

And above all, they had a massive army clad in black armor and equipped with Idgallo weapons right here.

And what about themselves?

“It’s not a matter of burden, but of impossibility. If you can offer a proposal within feasible terms, I will gladly dedicate all glory to Bariel’s royal palace.”

“Right,” Ian nodded knowingly.

He had expected as much. Even if they divided Burgos’ spoils, it was clear to him that it was beyond their capacity. This was about staking a claim on the fractures to come.

Eriphoni rose and turned toward the tent’s entrance.

“Ruthwena, too, cannot comply—not out of burden, but impossibility. I will confer briefly with my subordinates and return. King Clifford, I beg your mercy for a moment’s time.”

As Eriphoni, showing at least some respect to the king, reached out to touch the tent flap—

Zzzzz… zzzzz…

Whoosh!

“Ah!”

Ian unleashed a torrent of flames at the tent’s entrance. Eriphoni clutched her scorched palm, turning to face him, while he merely shrugged his shoulders.

“I told you before we started—if you wanted to leave, you should have done so earlier. I’ll say it again, with all due respect: sit back down, King Eriphoni. Your great army may be outside, but in here, you’re alone.”