Chapter 432

“So, should we put up the flowers or not?”

“I don’t think we should. The mood just doesn’t feel right.”

“Come on, it’s barely been a moment since Lord Ian and the mages arrived. Why the sudden change in attitude, like flipping a hand over?”

“Still, wouldn’t it be better to have some decorations? It’s about showing respect, after all.”

The attendants preparing the banquet paused, exchanging awkward glances. The air, which had been buzzing with excitement over the war hero’s return, was now cooling rapidly. Tonight was supposed to be a night of celebration, everyone drunk on Bariel’s victory, laughing and chatting together.

They glanced at the half-placed floral arrangements and shrugged.

“Those who fuss over formalities usually end up the first to die. Especially when it’s about the royal bloodline. How could they just close their eyes and ears? For the Crown Prince, this isn’t just any matter.”

“I know, but didn’t His Highness stop by the Magic Department earlier? Didn’t he say there was no problem?”

“You only heard half of it. He stormed out, furious from head to toe. And have you heard about Idgal? That synthetic substance used in the old civil war? Turns out it’s connected to Lord Ian!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means the Magic Department is in chaos.”

The attendants chattered nervously, repeatedly adjusting the flower decorations. Then, footsteps approached outside—the officials were beginning to arrive at the assembly hall one by one.

They peeked through the door crack, trying to gauge the overall atmosphere. It was clear something was wrong; the Magic Department exuded a completely different energy than when they first arrived.

“Gasp. It’s Lord Ian.”

Unlike the officials entering with grim faces, Ian looked relatively calm. Was it his pale skin and golden hair? The dozens of mages following him all seemed tense, their eyes scanning the room with complicated emotions.

Acorella licked her lips and whispered to Ian.

“Lord Ian, are you truly alright on your own?”

“Why would I be alone when you’re here?”

“Well, that’s true, but Romandro is better suited to assist you. There will be many questions, and since we weren’t at the Magic Department, we’re in the same position as you.”

Romandro, who had overseen the Magic Department’s administration, was surely the one who could help most. But Ian lightly turned to look at the mages.

“Everyone, don’t worry. Focus only on what’s certain. We are war heroes, the ones who brought victory to Bariel. Everyone will have no choice but to show you favor.”

At Ian’s words, the mages’ eyes sharpened. Weren’t they the ones truly worried? Ian was at the center of all this. Noticing their glances, Ian smiled faintly and stepped forward.

The assembly hall was half-filled. As soon as the Magic Department entered, all eyes turned to them, and the room fell silent.

With a smooth motion, Ian took the seat marked with his name. The mages split to either side, standing guard behind him. After a brief silence, a low murmur of unrest spread.

“Lord Ian, I heard there’s trouble with King Damon.”

“Yes. He’s currently being treated, so I cannot testify here. Has the Burgos delegation arrived?”

“No, not yet. It seems there are internal issues on their side as well.”

“Likely a noble dispute. King Damon paid a heavy price to unite the nobles.”

“Then shall we change the order of proceedings?”

“That’s fine with me.”

“Very well, Lord Ian.”

“Yes, Prime Minister.”

The Prime Minister adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. Though the conversation was strictly business, the tension was palpable. He leaned in and whispered to Ian.

“His Highness seems unsettled. Did something happen at the Magic Department?”

“…I suppose my shortcomings caused him concern. Nothing special occurred.”

“Lord Ian, about the rumors. We can’t avoid mentioning them. If you have a preferred approach, please say so. We’ll handle it as best we can without opposing His Highness’s wishes.”

Ian raised an eyebrow in surprise. This was the man who had supported the Crown Prince and led efforts to keep the Magic Department in check.

Now that the Imperial Defense Department was stabilizing, and its minister, Tweller, was one of Jin’s men, it seemed the Prime Minister was trying to ease the pressure.

“There’s nothing to see here. It’s simply too soon to seek the truth. The people of Bariel are still basking in joy—why douse that with cold water from the palace?”

“I didn’t realize you were so mindful of public opinion and support.”

“The timing is just bad.”

Though Bariel suffered little damage, someone had died. If they couldn’t fully enjoy the victory won atop that death, its meaning would be lost.

“His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Jin, has arrived!”

Screech!

Boom!

The announcement echoed through the hall. The Prime Minister glanced between Ian and those behind him, then returned to his seat to organize documents.

Jin entered, his face stern, his robe billowing. Everyone in the hall rose and saluted.

“Please be seated. Prime Minister, proceed with the assembly.”

“Yes, Your Highness. First, the matter of naming the war between Cliford and Burgos. Though these two nations have fought many wars before, this was a great war involving Bariel, Luswena, and even northern minorities. It’s only right to give it an appropriate name for history.”

In Cliford’s records, it would be called the Cliford War, but in Bariel, it would be the Bariel War. The Prime Minister and officials exchanged opinions, aiming to settle on a name first.

“Hmm. We must hear from the Magic Department, who fought on the front lines. Lord Ian, your thoughts?”

“None. The war is over, but the rift it caused remains. It’s best to leave interpretation to future generations.”

“How wide is this rift? Is there any sign it will close soon?”

At the question, the mages all shook their heads. Did anyone think a cracked earth would heal so easily? Their expressions were incredulous.

“When the Magic Department last checked, the activity level was at stage three. Please refer to the attached documents for the rift’s classification. We define the appearance of formless monsters, called Dust, as stage three.”

Rustle.

The sound of papers turning filled the room. This concept had been established centuries ago, and no one was sure if it still held true.

Jin scratched his brow, lips pressed tight. He wanted to object, but doing so would let Ian steer everything his way. Ian would surely insist on a new investigation of the rift, and he and Bariel’s mages would head back to Cliford.

“Lord Ian, you’ve made a mistake.”

Jin thought, glaring at Ian. If he hadn’t known, it would be one thing—but he clearly understood Ian’s intentions. He wasn’t about to be easily outmaneuvered.

Someone raised a hand and asked.

“This classification was established centuries ago. Is it still valid?”

Who was that? How dare they?

Jin frowned deeply and answered instead.

“In the history of magic, centuries are but a blink. Unlike other knowledge, the deeper the years, the closer to truth. Lord Ian, are you unaware of this?”

“I-I apologize.”

Ian was about to respond, but Jin cut him off.

Is the Crown Prince protecting Ian now? The atmosphere suggested so. Everyone rolled their eyes and fell silent. They had expected trouble based on rumors, but apparently not.

“No, Your Highness.”

Ian paused, then carefully countered. His clear, impassioned voice was surprisingly pleasant to hear. In a way, he was raising his voice for himself.

“The question is valid. Though this standard has been passed down for centuries, the original author is unknown. For a more accurate response, the Magic Department must conduct its own investigation.”

“Lord Ian!”

“Your Highness, did I speak disrespectfully?”

Jin shouted angrily, but Ian calmly retorted. This was the assembly hall, and they were discussing matters before officials.

“Maintain your decorum,” Ian implied, and Jin bit his lip hard. The mages watching from behind murmured among themselves at Ian’s words.

“The Magic Department will investigate? We have to go back to Cliford?”

“How will they even examine the rift?”

“I don’t know. Lord Ian must have a plan.”

“Hey, get a grip. We just got back to Bariel. Can we really go back to Cliford now?”

“Shh! Quiet! Everyone, keep your mouths shut.”

“Acorella!”

Ian ignored the whispers behind him and spoke.

“However, investigating the rift carries significant risks. Each mage in Bariel is precious and irreplaceable. I cannot make this decision alone. I trust other departments will understand. Why would I force my subordinates into a deadly mission against their will?”

“What is it you want to say, Sir Ian?”

“I will volunteer. We’ll recruit those willing to investigate the rift and form an expedition team.”

“Who would go? Even I wouldn’t.”

“If no one volunteers, then I will go myself.”

A heavy silence fell once more.

The officials’ eyes widened in shock, and Jin pressed his forehead with both hands again. The mages froze in place, whispering ceased, and all they could do was stare at the back of Ian’s head.

“Ah…”

“Why would Sir Ian go there? Are you out of your mind?”

“Akorella, control yourself.”

“No, seriously, where have you ever heard of a minister going in person? If the Ministry of Magic is left empty, who’s going to handle the work?”

“Captain Akorella! Please be respectful!”

Bang! Bang bang!

The Prime Minister slammed his staff down in warning, but it did nothing to calm the agitated Akorella. The mages held her arms, exchanging bewildered glances as they looked at Ian.

“Investigations are necessary, but if no one volunteers, then I must go. Isn’t that the duty of a leader?”

“Th-that’s not—”

“Don’t ‘not’ me. Akorella, if you raise your voice disrespectfully again, I will have you removed.”

“I-I—!”

Akorella ground her teeth, painfully aware of Romandro’s absence. When it came to speaking candidly to Ian, no one was as effective as Romandro had been.

Ian returned his attention to the documents and continued.

“This is not yet finalized. There are mages in Luswena and the northern regions as well. I intend to propose the mission to them too. We will decide in a way that minimizes the loss of Bariel’s mages, so please don’t worry too much.”

Isn’t the greatest loss that Ian himself is going? The mages felt a lump in their throats and exchanged anxious glances.

“Sir Ian, while your commitment as the person in charge is admirable, frankly, it seems a bit reckless. Is there another reason behind this?”

At that moment, one of the officials raised a question, suspecting this was a calculated move to quell the wild rumors spreading through the palace.

Ian raised his eyebrows, as if acknowledging the point was quite astute.