Chapter 423
A new day dawned.

It was the day when the empire’s proud and steadfast magicians—the very backbone of the great Bariel Empire—returned home, victorious from the war.

“Ba-ri-el!”

The beginning of the divine radiance held by the gods—
The heart of Gaia that turns golden when it rains.

Raise your heads high, higher still, and you shall see—
The light shining from above is the beacon of Bariel.

Every time the chant neared its end, someone would shout “Ba-ri-el!” again, and another would gladly pick up the chorus. Thanks to this, the anthem of Bariel had been echoing nonstop for hours.

“Sing louder! So the magicians out there can hear us!”

“I heard your son was deployed with the Imperial Defense Corps this time? Congratulations. You’ve raised a hero.”

“Oh, madam, it’s all thanks to the empire’s blessings. I recently received a letter—he volunteered to help with the cleanup in Clifford. He’ll be home a bit later than expected, but since the magicians have paved the way, it won’t be too hard.”

“How admirable! Hey, another round of beer here!”

“This one’s on me. On a day like today, we’ve got to celebrate properly! Come on, bring the empty mugs!”

“Since when did you become so generous?”

“Didn’t you know? The boss’s son was drafted. He’s been on edge ever since the war started. But the Magic Department handled it cleanly, so he can finally relax. No matter how much you wear the Bariel Empire’s flag on your chest, it won’t stop a spear or sword from striking you. The best thing is not to send him to the battlefield.”

“I see. Boss! Don’t hold back! Fill it up, no foam!”

“Foam’s good for you, you know.”

“Hey! Look! The flag’s waving at the barrier!”

“They’re here! Everyone, get up quickly!”

Clatter, clatter!

The commotion was reminiscent of a crown prince’s investiture ceremony. The only difference was that back then, the whole world sparkled thanks to the magicians’ power.

Now, the air was filled solely with the cheers and shouts of the empire’s citizens. They released white balloons and scattered white petals everywhere, celebrating the magicians’ safe return and the victory in war.

The early risers had already gathered near the central road. Far off, the Bariel Empire’s flag was visible—stained with blood, yet somehow making the banner look even more perfect.

“Ian! Magicians!”

“Waaah! They’re here! The Magic Department has finally returned!”

“Congratulations! Thank you all for your hard work!”

“Look here! Over here!”

“Imperial Defense Corps! And the Royal Palace Guard! We won’t forget you! You’ve upheld Bariel’s history with honor!”

As the crowd surged forward, palace guards formed a human barrier to maintain order.

Hands reached out here and there, tossing white flowers in return. White balloons continued to rise into the sky, while laughter and the lively sounds of a band filled the air.

Ian smiled, showing his face through the open window, and Beric half-stuck his body out, repeatedly slapping palms with the citizens.

“Oh! What’s this? I’ve gotten really popular!”

“Beric, it’s not just you—it’s all of us receiving this welcome. Ha ha ha! Thank you. Oh, it’s nothing.”

The magicians kept their composure, staring straight ahead, but they couldn’t completely ignore the enthusiastic cheers pouring in.

Their smiles slowly grew wider, and they gradually let their guard down, gathering the gifts the citizens handed them.

“Ian! The palace is in sight!”

“Yes. I see it.”

The magicians gripped their chests, hearts pounding with excitement as the palace drew near. How long had it been since they last returned? When they lived and worked inside the palace, it had felt like a place to escape from, but now, from this distance, it felt just like home.

Some magicians’ eyes glistened with tears, lost in nostalgia, while others kept receiving greetings without pause.

“Ian! Congratulations on your safe return!”

“Beric! You’re not hurt anywhere, right? Glad you made it back!”

“Open the gates! I’m starving!”

“Ha ha ha! Some things never change!”

The palace guards peeked out from beyond the barrier, laughing.

Just as Beric marveled at entering the palace grounds, Ian felt a strange emotion rising within him. The palace he had known in his life as Verosion and the palace he now faced were so different, it was hard to believe they existed on the same timeline.

If a mere hundred years could bring such change, how magnificent and grand must the name Bariel be over hundreds or thousands of years?

Creak!

Clatter, clatter!

The carriage turned smoothly, crossing the palace grounds. In the distance, the far end of the First Palace’s main building came into view. Officials had gathered there, no doubt all the bureaucrats currently residing in the palace.

Ian instinctively searched for the silver hair through the window.

“……”

But somehow, it didn’t come into view easily. They hadn’t come out yet. As soon as the carriage stopped, Ian stepped down and greeted the prime minister.

“Sir Ian Hiel, Minister of the Magic Department, has returned safely. I apologize for causing everyone concern.”

“Nonsense. How could we expect an apology from a war hero? If you did, the old men of the palace would be embarrassed. Just knowing you’ve returned safely is enough.”

“Iaaan!”

At that moment, a familiar voice called from the right. The magicians and Beric instinctively turned their heads.

It was Romandro, his face wet with tears and snot. It seemed guarding the Magic Department alone had taken its toll—he’d gained weight and looked worn out.

Ian smiled gently, and Romandro wiped his nose with his sleeve as he trudged over. A humble but steadfast guardian of the palace’s heart.

“Romandro.”

“Oh, why did you take so long? Are you hurt anywhere? The report said you overexerted yourself, and you’ve lost weight. Beric! Beric! Beric, you little rascal!”

“Ah, my ears! What’s with that? Why did Romandro gain weight? He looks like he’s got a bigger belly than Viviana.”

“Judging by your words, you’re fine too! You little—missed you so much! Did you behave? No injuries?”

“I behaved well. Ask Ian.”

There was no time for that. The magicians who had just gotten off the carriage spotted Romandro and bounced over excitedly.

“Waaah! Romandro!”

“Everyone! Ugh, I missed you all. Why did you take so long?”

“Sorry. We’re late, aren’t we?”

“Fieldwork reports, everyone submit them by tomorrow. Include the reports.”

“Ah, if you start like this right after meeting, it ruins the mood.”

“No, this is the perfect time to gather the reports yourselves. If I keep cleaning up after you, I’ll die before seeing my baby.”

“Ah! That can’t happen!”

Despite his protests, Romandro linked arms with the magicians, bouncing around happily. He hugged and greeted everyone warmly, checking that they were unharmed.

Soon, he came over to Ian and embraced him tightly without hesitation. Ian raised his arms awkwardly in surprise, but Romandro didn’t care and squeezed even harder.

“Ian. I’m truly relieved you returned safely. Truly. I missed you.”

“Yes. You worked hard. Thanks to you, even while on the battlefield, I could worry less about the palace.”

“Oh? Romandro, are you crying? Are you?”

“I’m not crying, you fool!”

“Ha ha ha! You are! Me too. Hug me.”

“Oh, you little. Come here!”

Beric playfully threw his arm over their shoulders, and Romandro, tears streaming down, pulled both of them into a group hug.

A familiar scent brushed past Ian’s nose—the nostalgic fragrance of the small, cozy mansion where Philia’s engagement ceremony had been held. Holding Romandro, Ian whispered softly.

“…What about your mother and stepfather?”

“They prepared to leave the mansion long ago. But since you suddenly… well, I haven’t been able to visit often either. I’m staying a bit longer for Viviana. Philia has been eagerly waiting to see her son one last time.”

“I see.”

If only he hadn’t collapsed suddenly from the side effects of the contract magic, things might not have turned out this way. Ian smiled bitterly and gently pulled away from Romandro.

“I must pay my respects to His Majesty. Let’s move.”

At Ian’s words, the magicians who had been laughing and chatting lined up and reformed their ranks. The prime minister checked his watch and, as if waiting for this moment, led them inside the palace’s main building.

“Your Majesty. Ian Hiel, Minister of the Magic Department, has returned.”

“Bring them in.”

With a brief command, the attendants opened the doors to welcome them.

Jin sat slouched on a sofa in the reception room, guarded by Xiaosi behind him. Their eyes met first through the slightly open door.

‘Ah.’

Ian was a little taken aback. He had known the crown prince was young but hadn’t fully realized it.

Seeing how much Jin had grown made Ian suddenly aware of how small the boy had once been. In every way—height and more—he had grown by leaps and bounds.

His gaze had grown deeply mature, his posture straight and proud, his hair slightly longer than before. Above all, there was now an air of authority that brought him one step closer to the title of Emperor.

Ian bowed respectfully as he stepped into the reception room, offering his greetings according to protocol.

“Your Majesty, I am Ian Hiel, Minister of the Magic Department. I have returned from the war between Clifford and Burgos with the future of Bariel in hand. I humbly ask for your forgiveness for my long absence and any shortcomings on my part.”

“Sir Ian.”

Jin twitched his fingertips inside his sleeve. He wanted to immediately check if Ian was injured anywhere, but there were many eyes in the room, including other magicians. Instead, Jin slowly gestured toward an empty sofa.

“Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you.”

“There is much I wish to discuss.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I too have much to report.”

Jin felt a wave rising within him—like the crashing of waves against rocks—joy and excitement stirring restlessly inside.

Had Ian seen the letter? Surely he had heard about the purge of Minister Volbe. What was his impression of Maxim Tweller after meeting and working with him? Did Ian find him trustworthy? What had happened during the war? Ian didn’t seem hurt, but was there any pain he was hiding?

Countless questions danced on Jin’s tongue, but he pressed them down calmly, offering only a faint smile.

“So, it is certain that you have secured Bariel’s future?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I would not lie about such a matter. There is someone who witnessed it firsthand, and I intend to arrange accommodations for him within the Magic Department.”

Putting aside all personal inquiries, Jin’s first concern was the nation’s fate. Ian smiled warmly, clearly pleased, and bowed his head.

“…I am curious. What future has come to me through your hands?”

Though he tried to keep a neutral expression, Xiaosi immediately sensed the child’s excitement. Pretending to check his watch, he subtly reminded the others of the time.

“Will there be enough time for the afternoon meeting?”

“Ah, yes, of course, Sir Xiaosi.”

“The Magic Department will report the war’s outcome directly. As you said, I hope everything proceeds with certainty.”

“Then… please excuse me for a moment.”

“Me too. Ahem.”

One by one, those who understood Xiaosi’s intention quietly left the room, allowing Jin to welcome Ian more comfortably.

As Xiaosi stepped forward to coordinate the schedule with the officials, Beric’s mouth dropped open.

“Did I just hear you say ‘Sir Xiaosi’? Is that for real?”

“Beric, some things never change.”

“Xia— you—”

“Beric.”

Ian lifted his teacup and called to Beric.

“Address him as Sir Xiaosi. He is a viscount, like myself.”

“Really? You actually call him ‘Sir’? Xia, tell me!”

“Shh.” Ian frowned and warned him to be quiet. Xiaosi patted Beric’s shoulder lightly, a teasing look in his eyes reserved for someone easy to poke fun at.

“Call him ‘Sir,’ Beric.”

“Th-this is crazy—”

Beric stumbled backward, mouth agape, while Xiaosi ushered only Romandro and Beric out, closing the door behind them.

“There aren’t enough sofas. It would be best to have the other magicians use the adjacent reception room. Please guide them.”

“Yes, this way, please.”

The door creaked shut.

Xiaosi’s skill in managing the situation was impeccable.

Beric blinked awkwardly at Xiaosi, while Romandro sniffled repeatedly as he approached Jin’s side.

Once the door was fully closed, the child unconsciously reached out his hand to Ian—the same hand that had been fidgeting inside his sleeve.

“Sir Ian.”

And in that moment, the child’s voice lost all its earlier dignity. Ian smiled gently and grasped Jin’s hand firmly with both of his own.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I have returned.”