Chapter 435
“There is someone I must meet in the Abyss. Even if it means giving up everything I have, I cannot help but look toward that person, Your Highness.”
The moment Ian spoke these words to Jin, the child crumbled.
Is this really the Ian I knew? The Ian who, like me, held only Bariel in his heart and shared the same lifelong goal. I thought that place on the hill was their sanctuary, but Ian seemed to have let go of my hand here, as if saying he would stop now.
That must mean there’s something even more important to him. Jin couldn’t hold back any longer and tears streamed down her face. Ian gently wiped them away.
“…I am sorry, Your Highness.”
“Who could be in the Abyss to make you say that? I am here, as is Sia, and Beric. Is it only them? There are also Romandro and the mages who follow you, and your mother, Philia. You know well the weight of the empire’s people without me saying it. Is this person truly so precious that you would leave all of them behind?”
Ian’s fingertips hesitated for a moment. How could one possibly weigh the value of each person?
Jin bit her lip hard and grabbed Ian’s sleeve. She instinctively knew it was hopeless, but this was all she could do.
“Convince me that this person is worth leaving us all behind. Otherwise, I will not allow it. This is an order from the Crown Prince of Bariel.”
At the Crown Prince’s refusal, Ian simply smiled. His emerald eyes, meeting the child’s gaze, glowed warmly.
Facing him silently and kindly, Jin felt her heart burn even more.
“Your Highness, that person… gave everything of themselves to bring me into existence. If I may be so bold, coming to the palace and the Magic Department was all to meet that person.”
Ian occupied a large part of her heart. Sniffling, Jin opened her eyes wide, ready to catch any inconsistency.
“Is that all?”
“Of course, I came here for that person, but everything I have done was for Bariel and Your Highness. That is my sincere truth—please understand. And Your Highness, you and everyone else have taken a part of my heart as well.”
Ian spoke cautiously. Though he smiled brightly, there was something almost wet in his eyes. Jin, confused, frustrated, and overwhelmed, didn’t notice it.
“But I know my path. And on that path, there is a flower I can offer to Your Highness. How could I turn my back empty-handed?”
“Sir Ian, you’re truly cruel. The officials were right about you.”
“Ha ha. Is that so? The officials have devoted their lives to the palace. Surely their eyes are sharp. I did not want to appear that way to Your Highness, though.”
“You’re cruel. Everyone will say so. Especially Philia—she will be heartbroken. To throw yourself into something based on a single old record is foolish. And even if it’s true, it’s been ten long years. There’s no guarantee you’ll return safely. And yet you still want to go? Really?”
“Your Highness, may I say something a bit harsher?”
Ian gently patted the back of Jin’s hand, which was gripping his sleeve tightly.
“I am more capable than that Vandor fellow. It took him ten years, but I will finish investigating the rift much sooner. I swear this by the name Bariel.”
Ian’s playful words made Jin pout, but she had no argument. Unlike Vandor, who merely passed through the palace’s Magic Department, Ian was destined to be a significant figure in Bariel’s history.
Even beyond his genius and astonishing magical talent, the mark he left on Bariel in just half a year was remarkable in many ways.
“So please, don’t worry too much. The rift in Clifford isn’t just Clifford’s problem, is it? Bariel, the heart of Gaia, must step in to resolve it.”
A hundred years later in Bariel, as far as Ian Verosion knew, the rift in Clifford never existed.
The past had been distorted by Damon’s return. Ian had a duty to fix it for both present and future Bariel. He was the only one traveling a different timeline. And above all, he was the future emperor of Bariel.
“…I understand.”
“Your Highness, there is one more thing you should know.”
Ian glanced toward Siaoshi, signaling her to secure the door. Siaoshi, who had been righting a fallen chair, approached the door and peered through the crack.
Outside, a few groups were gathered, deep in discussion, but none dared to eavesdrop. In the palace, knowledge could be poison, staining one’s own blood. With Ian and Jin moving like a sharp wind, who could approach?
Creak.
“What is it? I’m beginning to fear speaking with you.”
“It concerns King Damon. He is living a second life.”
“Hm?”
Jin frowned, and Siaoshi, closing the door firmly, also paused. Ian lowered his voice and continued.
“I heard it from the gypsy Damon was chasing before. You met that gypsy, didn’t you, Your Highness?”
“Y-yes.”
“The eater of secrets pulled the secret from Damon’s belly and told me. Damon himself admitted it, so there’s no doubt. Besides, he’s already a prisoner after defeat, so you need not worry too much. But the problem is—”
“Wait. A second life? What does that mean? Am I understanding this correctly?”
“Yes. It means he holds both the time when he was Prince Damon and when he was King Damon simultaneously.”
“How is that even possible?”
“Sometimes, things happen that humans cannot understand. It’s all the will of the gods. It’s natural that we cannot grasp the meaning.”
For the first time ever, Jin felt Ian’s complaints and laments in his muttering. He was always so aloof, gazing beyond the horizon, but under the gods, he was just as human as anyone.
Jin didn’t let go of Ian’s hand and asked again.
“What was the problem you wanted to tell me?”
“Ah, Rutherford is behind Damon.”
“Rutherford? That’s a merchant guild. How can a mere guild stand behind a king?”
“Not a mere guild, Your Highness. It is the source of Idgal and directly connected to Damon’s return. Please take a look at this.”
Ian rose from his kneeling position and brought a report from his seat. It was a document only for Jin, not shared with other officials. It neatly summarized all the information Ian had gathered so far. Jin quickly scanned the text.
Click.
“This is absurd.”
“It is, but Damon pulled it off. He’s quite a remarkable king.”
Though his tone was ironic, Jin said nothing and kept reading Ian’s report.
Too much information flooded her mind at once. The Idgal accessories that had quietly gained popularity since Ian’s time on the frontier. Damon’s wealth and siblings. The Marib civil war. The war…
“Do you know Rutherford’s goal?”
“Unfortunately, I cannot say. But judging by their actions, it seems far from mere wealth, honor, or power. With this war, Idgal’s trade routes have opened to neighboring countries outside Bariel. Money is just a number.”
Ian tapped the table lightly with his fingertips.
Rutherford. Ian didn’t know him, but Rutherford knew Ian—or rather, knew the illegitimate Ian.
But the difference in perspective caused by this imbalance of information created a surprisingly deep divide. Ian could not see Rutherford, but Rutherford could see Ian.
“We should watch how Rutherford reacts to Damon’s downfall.”
Ian said this and stood, returning to his seat.
Ian drifted away again. Jin placed the report on the table with a dissatisfied look.
“Um, Your Highness, I have one favor to ask.”
“A favor?”
Jin was startled by the word but quickly relaxed. Had Ian ever asked for a favor before? He was the type to design and obtain whatever he wanted.
“What is it?”
“The next Minister of Magic will have a different approach from mine for smooth operations. To mend the divided Magic Department, strong internal policies will be necessary.”
“You already know the Magic Department is divided?”
“Of course. I, as the head, caused quite a stir. Naturally, some will waver, and others will stubbornly remain. I don’t mean to blame or praise anyone. The Magic Department will be shaken but never broken. Those who wield the power of the gods are, in a way, truly brothers and sisters.”
“…By strong internal policies, you mean building an annex.”
“That’s right. Regardless of the minister’s political standing, it’s something Wesley and the entire Magic Department have wanted. The budget is already allocated, so with a little support from the royal family, it can proceed smoothly.”
“I see no reason to agree. You said you would be my stepping stone to strengthen royal authority, yet now you want to allow a Magic Department annex? That’s contradictory. And above all, Ian, you’re just too cruel—I don’t like it.”
Ian chuckled softly.
“Please reconsider. Once the annex is complete, I will return to the palace even while investigating the rift.”
Jin’s ears perked up. Ian had just revealed the condition under which he might abandon the investigation into the rift halfway through. Of course, even if he returned, nothing between them would be quite the same as before.
“The next minister won’t exactly welcome me, so I don’t expect to stay long.”
Once the annex was completed, and once Ian uncovered clues about the Abyss within the rift, he would surely return to Bariel a hundred years in the future. So, he would leave again.
Ian had subtly dropped a hint to Jin, but Jin didn’t catch it and furrowed his brow.
“The next minister is either Hale or Akorella, right? Why wouldn’t they welcome you?”
“Water that has flowed must keep flowing. Who would welcome water that turns back against the current? Besides, in the position of minister, personal friendships must be strictly set aside. Oh, and please exclude Akorella from that.”
“Hmm. Fair enough.”
A brief silence fell. Jin rolled his eyes, then suddenly sprang to his feet, clearing his throat awkwardly. Whenever Ian tried to intervene, the conversation would always end on a lighter note.
“I—I’m confused right now. I need some time to think. Let’s postpone the meeting by a day. King Damon’s recovery, too—no one’s in the right state to offer sound advice. Thanks to someone.”
Bang!
So now he knew how to openly call someone out. Just as Ian was about to admire that, Jin strode out of the conference room. The officials, startled by the sudden exit, hurried after him, leaving Ian alone to sigh deeply.
The rift—the searing, flickering crack in reality—held the Abyss within. So he mustn’t let his steps grow heavy with doubt. Closing his empty eyes, Ian pictured the hazy future.
Bariel, a hundred years from now. He was Emperor Ian Verosion.
“…Ian, you don’t know this song?”
Philía’s trembling voice made Ian sense something was off. She was reading far too much into the song’s meaning.
Ian immediately recalled the note his mother had sent through Count Bratz. He knew it—the melody was a cherished memory from his childhood, a lullaby his mother once sang to him. The textbook answer hovered on his tongue, but he hesitated.
His gaze drifted to Philía’s belly. Was she showing signs of pregnancy? If he ventured into the rift and returned to the future, she would lose her son once again—unless the illegitimate Ian returned in his own body.
“Yes. I’m familiar with it, but I don’t really know it well.”
Ian repeated the words, recalling how Philía had once called him her “beloved little stone.” He wasn’t the illegitimate Ian. Even if he vanished, she mustn’t waver—she had to brave the stormy waves ahead. Yet the words refused to leave his lips.