Chapter 459
After the commotion had passed, the imperial palace settled into a heavy silence.

Like heated sand cooling under the evening breeze, the frantic atmosphere had calmed considerably. It was only natural—there was now but one choice left for them.

“I believe it is best to declare war.”

A full-scale war between Bariel and Burgos—something no one had dared to initiate before. When one official broke the silence with this suggestion, disgruntled murmurs rippled through the room. Yet no one dared dismiss it as nonsense.

“Yes, Your Majesty. We should keep a close eye on the delegation returning to Luswena and respond firmly to Burgos.”

“Luswena is also undergoing a power shift. We must ensure that through war with Burgos, they have no room for reckless ambitions. A strong warning—that’s the most effective approach.”

“Who do you think will succeed to the throne in Luswena?”

“It’s hard to say whether it’s unfortunate or fortunate, but since King Eriphoni has no heir, they will likely decide based on the proper line of succession.”

“I heard the late king’s brother is still alive.”

“But he’s too old. He lacks the strength to stabilize a country in turmoil after defeat.”

“What about Elderd? He was Eriphoni’s right hand and personally delivered the king’s death news to the homeland. Isn’t he suitable?”

“Luswena values legitimacy above all. Though Elderd is Eriphoni’s cousin, he ranks quite low in the hierarchy. That’s why he left the palace in his youth to become a university professor.”

“In any case, both Luswena and Burgos are entering a new era of kingship. Bariel cannot afford to stand idle.”

“There are no talents in Burgos.”

“More precisely, there are no talents that Bariel desires.”

“Yes, yes. Though I wonder if we need to be so precise in our wording, haha. Luswena shouldn’t pose a major problem. They’re trying to shift the blame for war onto Burgos as much as possible. If Bariel shakes Burgos, I believe Luswena will cooperate.”

“Isn’t that right, Lord Ian?”

All eyes turned to Ian simultaneously. It was strange that he hadn’t said a word. Beyond his title as Minister of Magic, Ian was currently the most important figure here—he was responsible for King Eriphoni’s death and the interrogation of the Burgos delegation.

Ian simply shrugged and nodded.

“Yes. But we can’t act on assumptions alone. It would be wise to send someone to Luswena to observe the situation firsthand.”

“Lord Ian, now that it’s just us, let’s speak frankly.”

One official shifted closer to Ian.

“Are you really going down to Clifford as planned?”

“That matter is settled. His Majesty ordered it, and it’s a treaty between nations. Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious about what will happen to your position as Minister of Magic. War with Burgos is inevitable, and without you, honestly, it’s a bit concerning. Ah, Minister Maxim Tweller, I don’t doubt the Imperial Defense Department’s capabilities—”

“Not doubting, but worried, is that it?”

Maxim Tweller’s voice was firm and low. The line between doubt and worry was thinner than a sheet of paper.

The officials cleared their throats awkwardly, avoiding direct answers. Ian spoke up.

“Lord Maxim Tweller, please don’t be angry. The officials aren’t doubting the Defense Department—they’re concerned about the Magic Department. There are many more capable people than me in the Magic Department. So please, don’t add your own opinions to His Majesty’s decisions.”

“Ha ha, even if that’s not your intention…”

“Is His Majesty still meeting privately with King Clifford?”

The officials hurried the attendants to break the awkward silence. Since the negotiations involved both Burgos and Luswena, a conversation between their lords was necessary.

Ian sipped his tea and glanced out the window. The sun was about to set, the sky deepening in color as dusk settled.

Suddenly—

A faint tremor.

Ian froze and turned his head toward the door. Had no one else felt it? The officials continued their meeting as if nothing had happened, but only Maxim Tweller met Ian’s gaze.

Another tremor, slightly stronger.

A soft sliding sound.

“What is it? What’s going on?”

Ian wondered if it was his imagination, but it wasn’t.

Both men stood abruptly. The officials called out in confusion, but Ian was too alert to respond, and Tweller was silent, contemplating the unusual energy. His hand moved to the sword at his side.

The officials panicked.

“Minister! What are you doing!?”

“Quiet! Everyone, be silent.”

“Quiet? This is the imperial palace! The palace!”

“Yes, yes, but drawing weapons hastily isn’t good for anyone. His Majesty is just across the hall, after all.”

“To draw a sword in the palace over some problem? No message came from the main gate, and palace guards are on high alert everywhere.”

“Which makes it all the more strange—an explosion inside the palace?”

“Ex-explosion?”

“Could it be a failed experiment from the Magic Department?”

“No. The energy is different.”

Ian muttered, sharpening all his senses.

It was indeed strange. If there had been an intrusion outside, the gate guards and mages would have stopped it and reported immediately.

And there was no sign of internal trouble. The Burgos rebels were all commoners, and to prevent any unforeseen incidents, they were bound with magical shackles.

So who could have caused such a massive explosion?

“The only external force left is Clifford, but they have no reason or justification for this.”

If they stayed put, Bariel would supply resources, and Ian and the mages would handle the aftermath. Why cause a disturbance?

“Minister Tweller.”

Ian turned the door handle and called to Tweller. The other mages, sensing something, waited anxiously. Only Romandro blinked, unable to read the sudden shift in atmosphere.

“Please protect His Majesty well. I will investigate.”

“Understood.”

“Iaaan! Did you feel that? Something went ‘boom!’ just now!”

“Beric, shh.”

“I think I know where it came from. The left! It was on the left!”

Ian lightly nudged Beric’s shoulder, signaling him to follow, and disappeared down the corridor. The mages and Romandro hurried after him.

Minister Tweller watched them leave, then ran with his subordinates toward the reception room where Crown Prince Jin was.

Tap, tap, tap!

“No, you’re all joking, right? Explosion? I didn’t hear a thing.”

“You didn’t? It was huge! Boom! Maybe you were standing or something—were you asleep with your eyes open?”

“Beric, you talk a big game! I was fully alert!”

“If you didn’t hear it, maybe your ears are the problem. Ha ha.”

Beric teased Romandro as he ran ahead. Whatever was happening, he seemed pleased they were all moving together to handle it. His steps were light and cheerful, as if he didn’t realize they were heading into a crisis.

Tap, tap, tap!

“Is it this way?”

“I don’t know.”

“Seems like the palace storage area…”

Two faint shocks were felt. Ian noticed the palace guards’ movements were uneven—they hadn’t pinpointed the explosion’s origin either.

Then Beric suddenly stopped.

“Ah.”

He sniffed the air, lifted his chin, and frowned. Romandro stomped his foot and looked at him.

“What is it?”

“Smell of blood.”

“Blood? Where?”

“This way. Ian! This way!”

“Can we trust him?”

“His sense of direction is terrible, but his nose is impeccable. We have to trust him! Beric, let’s go!”

The mages rushed toward the exhibition hall where the palace’s treasures were kept. It was a place where no explosion should ever occur.

Ian realized something was terribly wrong. The mages who had rounded the corner stopped abruptly.

“I-Ian…”

“W-what… what happened?”

Bloodstains were mercilessly splattered across the white marble floor.

The guards had been ambushed from behind, their eyes wide open in death. Blood seeped through the tightly shut door cracks.

Buzz! Buzz!

This was the exhibition hall, filled with Bariel’s precious artifacts. It was protected by the Magic Department’s barriers and accessible only to authorized personnel.

As soon as Ian saw the blood, he unleashed his magic. The mages instinctively raised their power.

“Romandro, quickly alert the palace of an emergency and ensure His Majesty’s safety.”

“Y-yes! I’ll gather people immediately!”

“Be careful. Beric, escort Romandro.”

“Me? Why? There’s an enemy ahead.”

Beric frowned, and Romandro sharply tugged his ear.

“You little brat, do you want to see me die?”

There had been an explosion, yet no alarms sounded. Intruders were inside the palace. Look at that corpse—couldn’t even close their eyes before dying. Impressive skill, isn’t it?

“Damn it, seriously. So Ian’s just going to leave him behind?”

“Who’ll die first, me or Ian? Enough talk—hurry and escort him! Beric! This is serious!”

Before the guards could even raise the alarm, they were taken out. Whatever their goal, it was clear the crown prince’s life was in danger.

Romandro had a duty to quickly inform the palace captain, the royal guards, and every Barielian in the Imperial Defense Department about this.

“Move!”

Grabbing Beric by the scruff of his neck, Romandro turned back the way they came. Ian, meanwhile, approached the exhibition hall slowly. He thought he heard something being sliced, and the sounds of frantic movement.

At least five.

No, more than that.

Swish.

Mages spread out on either side of the door, their magic flaring. How had these intruders gotten inside the palace? And here, of all places—the most heavily guarded spot…

‘Did they have some kind of teleportation device?’

Inside the palace? Or maybe something recently brought in? What had Luswena or Burgos delivered lately?

Just then, the exhibition hall door creaked open, and a faint sound came from within.

“Ah…”

A woman staggered out, barely able to crawl, clutching the floor for support. Her face was soaked in blood, almost unrecognizable, but Ian and the mages immediately knew.

‘…Acorella!’

As the mages rushed forward in shock, Ian held them back. Another figure appeared behind Acorella.

He grabbed her ankle roughly, yanking her back like a hunted animal.

“Hey. Where do you think you’re going? You’re going to fix the mess you made.”

“Ah, ugh, damn it…”

“Want your right leg broken too? Huh?”

“Get lost, get—”

Ziiiiiing! Ziiing!

Boom!

Acorella gathered her magic and exploded it in defiance, flooding the exhibition hall with bright light. In that instant, Ian caught sight of the man with black hair—and instinctively, something deep inside him stirred.

He’d never seen this man before, yet somehow he felt etched into his memory. A man who reminded him of a black panther. Someone so striking that the blood covering his body barely registered.

‘Rutherford.’