Chapter 460
“Is it even possible to go back?”
Melania turned away, nervously fidgeting with her fingertips.
Before her lay piles of gold coins and various jewels stacked like mountains. Between them were priceless relics of history—treasures beyond any price. It felt like a dream. She had been standing on a vast plain, and now suddenly found herself inside the royal palace’s vault.
Until she saw outside, she couldn’t be sure if this was truly the palace. Wasn’t the other party Rutherford? But the moment she crossed over, meeting a mage with glowing orange eyes was a clear sign.
“Miss, could you please keep it down? I understand you’re worried, but you’re making so much noise I can’t concentrate. If your hands are empty, why don’t you pick up some of these gold coins rolling on the floor?”
The mages of Rutherford scowled at Melania. Their comrades had arrived and spread throughout the palace, but here was some noblewoman making a fuss, seemingly from nowhere. Their nerves were understandably frayed.
“Ugh…”
“Hey, hey, get up.”
“What the hell did you smear on her?”
One of Rutherford’s mages was stomping on Acorella’s head, shouting at her.
The painting was made from mana stones. Normally, minor damage wouldn’t affect its function, but this royal mage’s mark wasn’t just paint—it was some unknown liquid that caused interference between the mana stones, preventing the portal from opening properly.
One mage grabbed Acorella by the hair and yanked her head back sharply.
“If you don’t talk, I’ll make you look like that thing rolling over there.”
“Ah…”
The mage pointed to the steward. He had been guiding Acorella inside but had met a grisly fate. Blood gushed endlessly from the cleanly severed neck.
Nearby stood three guards, and next to them five servants moving goods. Even in the darkness, their bodies were unmistakable. Acorella’s blurry gaze fell on them, and then she let out a faint, eerie chuckle.
“Heh, heh heh…”
“You’re laughing?”
“Ah, damn it. You idiots don’t even know what you smeared on me, but you think you’re so clever just because you outnumber me?”
“Are you crazy!?”
“You think you’re the only ones with friends? I’ve got friends too, damn it…”
“You’re completely insane. Absolutely insane.”
“Catloyne 40 grams, Luron 25 grams, Tapialog 120 grams, Dalron 70 grams…”
“What?”
The mage pressed his foot firmly against Acorella’s neck. Her face flushed red as blood rushed, but she didn’t stop smiling.
“See? Ha, ha, even if I tell you, you won’t understand.”
“Should we just kill her? We need to reduce the number of palace mages anyway.”
The mage drew a dagger from his waist and asked Rutherford. But Rutherford didn’t even blink at the commotion. He slowly wandered the exhibition hall, inspecting the royal treasures. The older the relic, the longer he stared. Then he turned abruptly and smiled.
“No. Enough. You open the door. You have to finish before the others return. If not, you die.”
He wasn’t the type to make empty threats. The mages swallowed hard and nodded, focusing again on the massive painting to open the passage.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Acorella crawled toward the door. She had to warn everyone quickly. The name they’d been whispering in the meeting—the fact that Rutherford had infiltrated the palace, harmed the royal staff, and was hiding like a shadow throughout the palace to bring in the Burgos delegation…
“Ugh…”
“Mage, I see light in her eyes.”
“Let her go!”
“Good job. But can you stay still for a moment?”
Crack!
“Ahhh!”
Rutherford crouched over the crawling Acorella, carefully grabbing her ankle. Without hesitation, he twisted the joint. Bones popped out of place as Acorella screamed in pain.
“Sir Rutherford, we found her.”
“Good.”
If not for the call from behind, he might have broken the other ankle too. Following his subordinate, Rutherford moved deeper into the exhibition hall.
Rows of colorful brooches lined up in display cases reaching waist-high. Rutherford hummed a tune, smiling.
“Hmm. More than I expected.”
“Indeed. After the purge of the seven central nobles, there was a reshuffle. Seems everyone’s scrambling to curry favor with the palace.”
“Good. Take them all. Let’s see how the Bariel nobles who swore loyalty to the crown react.”
These were the seals of the Bariel nobles who had pledged allegiance to the royal family. Handing over a seal meant surrendering everything of the house—a clear sign of loyalty. If these seals were lost, what would the nobles feel, think, or do? Rutherford was curious.
“Sir Rutherford, all the gold coins are bundled. We’re ready to move them as soon as the passage opens.”
“Good work.”
“The palace will probably realize what’s happening soon. Should we join the others?”
Rutherford pulled out his pocket watch. Tick-tock. Time was passing, but unexpected problems made things difficult.
According to the original plan, they had exactly two hours—to empty the palace vault, rescue Vania and the Burgos delegation, and bring Damon along.
“Ah, this is really a headache.”
“We’ll find another way out of the palace. Sir Rutherford, don’t worry. We’ll open a portal if we have to, to ensure your safety…”
“The portal isn’t the problem. The portal.”
As Rutherford’s mages shouted their resolve, he smirked and leaned against the wall.
The palace raid was meant to strengthen Burgos’s position. If they moved Burgos with funds stolen from Bariel, one side would lose, the other would gain maximally.
Moreover, to maintain legitimacy within Burgos, Damon’s body was necessary. It’d be better if he was alive, but even if he died, it wouldn’t be a big problem.
Rutherford slowly brushed back his black hair and muttered,
“When will we escape the palace and return to that hillside? How could we open such a large portal immediately? This isn’t something you can handle. Inevitably, only our people here will remain.”
“…Sir Rutherford.”
His subordinates’ words hinted at concern over information leaks, but they seemed to misunderstand and looked genuinely moved.
Melania watched quietly from a corner. Clark was gathering the bodies, tidying up, while the crawling mage stubbornly kept moving toward the door. What on earth was going on?
‘Am I really on the right path?’
Her small but fierce desire to restore the name Haiman in Bariel had led her here, to Rutherford.
But wasn’t this beyond her control? If this truly was the palace, and that mage was from Ian’s side, what was she supposed to do?
Though Ian had spared her life despite her family’s destruction, many things conflicted with how Melania wanted to repay him. At least, in her own way.
She sighed, clutching her head and sinking down. Rutherford’s group glanced at her but said nothing.
Creak.
Acorella trembled as she barely pushed open one of the doors. A narrow gap let bright light flood in. Rutherford strapped his watch back on and strode over, grabbing her ankle.
“Hey. Where do you think you’re going? You have to fix the mess you made.”
“Ah, ugh, damn it…”
“Want your right leg broken too? Huh?”
“Get lost, get—”
Ziiing! Ziiing!
Paaang!
Acorella unleashed her magic in defiance, firing straight at his face as if to blow it away. But it fizzled out weakly like fireworks underwater, leaving only a brief flash of light.
She stared wide-eyed at Rutherford. This feeling…
“Sir Rutherford, she keeps bothering me. Should I just kill her?”
“Even if there’s a problem with the passage, you should say so before talking about killing. Don’t be reckless.”
“…Sorry.”
“If everyone does their part, everything will go smoothly. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir Rutherford.”
Rutherford tidied Acorella’s disheveled hair and slowly stood. The mages were handling the passage, and the subordinates had gone to rescue the Burgos members. He had work to do too.
Creak.
Ian. Let’s bring Ian. Just as Rutherford thought this and moved to open the door—
“…”
In the vast, empty corridor stood a boy with golden hair and golden eyes. Rutherford’s eyes widened slightly, then a smile spread across his lips.
“Hahaha.”
His laughter drew the attention of his subordinates, who quickly guessed the identity of the beautiful boy. Unfazed, they returned to their tasks inside the exhibition hall.
“This place—who do you think you are, acting like a madman?”
The voice was sharp and cutting. Ian’s magic dripped from him like venom, his anger barely contained. To behave like this in the very heart of Bariel’s imperial palace—no matter if Rutherford was the divine envoy or whatever else, Ian vowed to tear him apart to uphold his dignity.
But Rutherford seemed unfazed by Ian’s fury. Instead, he smiled brightly and stepped forward.
“Ian. I was just about to come get you.”
“Stop right there.”
“You’ve grown well. You still carry much of your childhood self.”
“I said, stop!”
“Binding.”
Zzzzz! Zzzzz!
A brilliant beam of light shot from Ian’s feet, crawling along the walls and ceiling.
He meant to trap Rutherford with his binding magic, but with a casual flick of his hand, Rutherford shattered Ian’s spell as easily as breaking glass.
The smile on Rutherford’s lips faded, replaced by a puzzled tilt of his head as he studied Ian’s face closely—so close that Ian’s reflection shimmered in Rutherford’s dark eyes.
“Ian?”
“…!”
Snap!
Rutherford lightly lifted Ian’s chin with his fingertip. Ian shoved him away roughly, as if insulted. Whatever their past connection—if any—this was no time for sentiment.
“Ian. When your master arrives, you should be wagging your tail in greeting, not glaring with such venom.”
“My master is Bariel.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
Just as Ian gathered his magic to strike Rutherford again, Rutherford issued a sharp command.
“Kneel.”
“…!”
Boom!
Suddenly, an overwhelming force pressed down on Ian’s shoulders. Before he could even register what was happening, he staggered and braced himself against the wall.
“Ian. Kneel.”
“Th-this…”
Boom!
He was bewildered. This wasn’t magic, not really. There was no special device. Yet somehow, the world shifted at the utterance of Rutherford’s words.
Sweat poured down Ian’s face as he struggled to resist. Rutherford frowned.
“Ian, kneeling before your master is no shame. Have you forgotten my face after all this time?”
Slowly, Rutherford stroked Ian’s head, pressing down with gentle but unyielding force. Ian’s knees buckled involuntarily. Gritting his teeth so hard that blood trickled from his mouth, he finally yielded.
Kneeling before Rutherford, Ian was met with a soft smile. Rutherford gently ruffled the boy’s hair.
“Well done, child. Remember this always. This is the posture you must take before me.”