Episode 442
Immersed Reading.

It was the perfect word to describe Zaira.

Ian looked down at the scattered papers on the floor and the child who was lying flat over them, painstakingly examining each letter in detail.

Like a castaway crossing a desert who buries their face in an oasis, the child had held the same position for tens of minutes without any sign of neck pain.

Ian had suspected something unusual, but this was definitely different. No matter how intelligent a child might be, such intense focus was far from ordinary.

“The records…”

Clink.

The shackles locked around Zaira’s left arm rattled. Ian knew exactly what she was about to say.

“Unfortunately, that’s all there is. So much time has passed—time so long it’s almost meaningless. I consider myself lucky just to have found even this.”

“After the mage called Bandor led his followers into the Rift, there were no reports. The one who called himself Bandor was executed back then. So, whether then or now, it means they were all distrusted, right?”

“Exactly. Just like you, Zaira, people back then didn’t trust him either. But there’s an interesting detail. The first person to claim the name Bandor—and others who did so later—appeared sporadically.”

“Wait a minute. That sounds strange. Is it some kind of copycat crime?”

“What’s more interesting is that these impersonations never happened simultaneously. They occurred at irregular intervals.”

“I don’t understand what that means.”

“It means that at any given time, there was only one person pretending to be Bandor. This suggests that impersonating Bandor didn’t bring much benefit to people of that era.”

Zaira remained lying down, resting her chin on the floor, but her bright eyes never stopped scanning the letters.

“More importantly, among the first mages who impersonated Bandor, the abstract concept of the ‘Abyss’ took shape and became tangible. It might be that magic evolved as the ages passed, but I believe this change carries meaning.”

“It does have meaning. Even a faint hope is the brightest thing in darkness.”

Zaira lightly propped herself up with her arm and stood. Whether these records were from a thousand or two thousand years ago didn’t really matter. Aside from forbidden magic, if there was any way to reach the Abyss, anything would do. If it meant walking through fire, she would walk it; if it meant sinking into the deepest ocean, she would sink.

“What about the records of the Luswena mages?”

“They exist, but not nearly as many. Especially forbidden magic—I only heard about it from my grandmother. This is the first time I’ve seen it properly.”

“That’s normal, Zaira. That’s why it’s forbidden magic.”

“…Wait a moment. Seeing this, Ian, there’s something you really need to see.”

The child crawled over and pulled a small bag from the corner of the office. Having grown wild and free in the forest with her family, Ian thought Zaira could use some lessons in etiquette.

If the future was entrusted to Bariel, she was certainly the kind of talent who could one day lead the Magic Department. Ian crossed his arms lightly and offered some advice.

“Zaira, even if it’s a short distance, crawling on your knees isn’t good for your health or manners. Be careful from now on.”

“Wow, just as everyone worried.”

“Everyone worried? About what?”

“Some family members said that Luswena mages who played and ate in the mountains might get an upset stomach eating palace food.”

But Zaira didn’t seem to care much. She squatted and rifled through the papers. Occasionally, notes tucked between the pages drifted down like the first snow of the night. Softly. Softly. Yellowed papers scattered across the floor, showing the passage of many years.

“But unlike Bariel’s records, these are anonymous. I don’t know who wrote them, so it’s hard to trust them.”

“All records are like that. Even if someone claims to have seen the truth, it might not be true. Zaira, all we can do is believe.”

Just as you did.

Believing despite the limits you set yourself, saying you can’t save those lost in the Abyss, yet erasing those boundaries to believe anyway. Each person’s world, their own universe, sky, and truth—all painted with the Abyss.

Zaira understood Ian’s meaning and nodded.

“Don’t waver, Zaira. The reason you and I are here together is because I admire your world. Admiration always changes reality.”

Ian smiled faintly as he examined the papers: round coffee stains, smudged ink, doodle-like drawings, and two or three different handwriting styles.

• Just as the Rift flows through the land, the world beneath flows as well. Flowing and flowing, monsters close to the surface spill out.

• Look at the stars. We are moving. The world beneath the Rift must be moving too. If we call each other unknown worlds, their stars must be ours.

• Look closely. What do you see?

• Nothing is as dangerous to the Rift as abstract ideas. From a human perspective, you’d never understand.

“Is this a written dialogue?”

“Seems like it. I asked around, but no one knows. Probably notes passed down from the previous generation—or the one before that.”

“It’s quite cryptic. Like a riddle. One side asks questions, the other answers.”

Ian tilted his head and asked,

“Is there anyone new in Luswena’s upper ranks? Or someone who’s been listening in?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“More than one of those two is probably an outsider. Otherwise, at least one Luswena mage would have answers. If no one knows, it’s natural to think the writer was an outsider.”

“Is that so?”

Ian held the paper up to the sunlight, squinting. The handwriting on the back looked familiar somehow.

As Ian tilted his head, Zaira held out her hands, signaling for the papers back. Bariel was Bariel, Luswena was Luswena. The information they brought was their weapon.

“There’s more, but I don’t have it. It was one way to persuade my family.”

What remained in the Mage’s Forest was shared equally. Nothing was more precious, no one more needed—everyone was equal.

Since they were running into the arms of their former enemy Bariel, the Luswena mages needed to be even more tightly united.

Ian raised an eyebrow and asked,

“Oh? Who?”

“I can’t say now. Once we all have Bariel citizenship and feel safe, I’ll unpack everything. Then you’ll know.”

At the child’s cheeky words, Ian shrugged.

“Alright, fair enough. But Zaira, as you’ve seen and heard, I will soon step down from my ministerial post. It’s not just because of the issues raised. But I can’t stay in this palace forever, no matter everyone’s expectations.”

“This is ridiculous. I came all this way trusting you.”

“I promise I will live up to that trust. Zaira, you and your family will live the life you want in Bariel.”

Ian fixed his gaze on the note in Zaira’s hand and made a request.

Even if he wasn’t here, he wanted Zaira to continue her research on the Abyss independently. Of course, she was still a child, so her limits were clear.

But as days and years passed, as life accumulated, Zaira would one day turn her belief into reality—the reality of saving mages lost in the Abyss.

“I’ll be below, and you’ll be above.”

“…”

“Whether there is an Abyss beneath the Rift, how to save those precious to us if it exists, and whether there’s a way to mend the torn land—let’s look toward the same goal, Zaira.”

The child rolled her eyes, seeming to ponder something. Ian wasn’t expecting an answer, so he straightened up and turned away without hesitation. But barely a step later, Zaira spoke again.

“I want to come too.”

Ian frowned. That wasn’t what he wanted. But Zaira didn’t miss the expression and took a step closer.

“Logically, shouldn’t I be the one to go investigate the Rift directly?”

“You’re too young.”

At those words, a puzzled look flashed across Zaira’s face. Funny. She lost. The child took a deep breath and calmly continued.

“…But I’m Luswena. You’re the Bariel-born Minister of Magic. Since you’re going yourself, you must have high expectations. Take me with you. It’s better to run around than to sit upstairs flipping papers.”

“No.”

“Saying no just makes me want to go more.”

“More trouble than I thought.”

“Whatever you imagine, I can do better. I’m the second strongest mage in my village after my grandmother. I’m way better than those ragtag kids with headbands.”

Zaira glared at the firmly closed door. Foolish fools. If you want to eavesdrop, at least hide your presence.

Though Ian and Zaira’s conversation wouldn’t leak outside, their magical presence was too clear. It was like a red headband gang announcing, “We’re here!”

Bang!

Crash! Boom!

“Whoa! Waaah!”

“Don’t push! Don’t push!”

As Zaira strode forward and flung the door open, Bariel’s mages who had been pressed close to the door poured in.

Ian had wondered why only one child was brought into the office. He needed to find out what they had talked about, Luswena mages’ stance, and how it might affect Ian’s faction amid the ongoing strike.

“Is this part of the etiquette too? I’ll learn well.”

The child turned to Ian with a sly smile and bowed.

Having dealt with this kind of thing multiple times during the strike, Ian said nothing and sat on the sofa, picking up a file.

“Looks like everyone’s finally decided to help me out with my work. If you don’t have anything else to do, bring over the completed reports.”

“That’s not it! Mama Yeon will fight to the very end!”

“F-fight, huh? Well, since you’ve brought in a Luswena mage who isn’t even a Bariel yet, I’m honestly a bit worried—and curious—so I came over.”

“Oh, really? Worried, or curious? You’re Zaira, right? Once you’re done talking with Ian, why don’t you chat with us? As you can see, the mages are dealing with something pretty serious.”

When the mage pointed to the red headband, Zaira perched on the armrest of the sofa, wearing a look of utter disbelief. What kind of ridiculous prank was this?

“No thanks.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t mind me. Keep on with your little ‘fight’ or whatever. I’m leaving the palace soon anyway, following Ian.”

Clink.

Ian set down his teacup sharply, signaling her to be careful. But the girl just kept fidgeting with her toes, chattering away without stopping.

“To be honest, I don’t get it. Why are you even striking? Is it because Ian wants to keep you in the Magic Department, but you don’t want to follow him through the rift?”

At that moment, Akorella strode through the group of mages and grabbed Zaira by the tip of her nose, shaking her roughly.

“Hey, you arrogant brat! I knew you were trouble when I first saw you. Your tongue’s just like Beric’s, huh?”

“Ah!”

“If Ian goes through the rift, so do we. So from now on, behave yourself, Zaira. Luswena mages are sailing in the same boat as us.”