Chapter 483

The shattered window, the scattered furniture, the cluttered mess of a bedroom—it was hardly a place to dine. Yet Ian paid it no mind as he accepted the meal.

Compared to the stable-turned-warehouse they’d been in before, this was practically a fine restaurant. Granted, in the corner, Landreau lay half-naked and unconscious, and the servants carrying the food wore faces pale with fear.

But neither Ian nor Beric cared about that.

With a knife in his right hand, a fork in his left, and a napkin neatly placed on his lap, Ian was the picture of composure. He extended his arm naturally and sliced through the tough meat with ease. This was already his second helping.

Judging by how relentlessly he cut, he must have been starving. Yet strangely, not a single clink of cutlery disturbed the air. Beric watched Ian intently as he chewed on a chunk of meat.

Feeling the weight of Beric’s gaze, Ian didn’t look up but asked, “Why?”

“Because it’s fascinating.”

“That I didn’t grow up?”

“No. That we met.”

It was strange. Unlike Ian, Beric had endured years of waiting. Yet now that they’d met, those years seemed to vanish without a trace.

They’d said he was powerless in the past—and it was true. Once the present gained meaning, the past became insignificant. For Ian, those ten years had never existed; for Beric, they no longer mattered. In a way, they were on equal footing.

“Beric, eat up.”

“What do you mean? I’ve already finished five plates while you were cutting.”

“Exactly.”

If this was the Beric Ian knew, five plates were just the beginning.

Munching thoughtfully, Ian’s serious gaze made Beric laugh in disbelief. Had Ian softened, or had he himself grown up? He wasn’t sure.

“I’m eating without worry. Otherwise, you’d starve again.”

“This is enough for me.”

“What? You said you went days without food. And now you’re only eating this?”

Nonsense! Beric slammed a half-picked bone on the table and barked at the servants. Meat should keep coming nonstop. But the dishes were arriving slower and slower. No wonder Ian was only eating what was in front of him.

“Are you sure you’re bringing all the meat from the mansion?”

“Yes, yes, of course. The kitchen can’t handle it all at once, so please bear with us a little longer.”

“Bring me what I paid for, or else.”

“Beric, did you pay? How much?”

Surprisingly, Ian had assumed they were dining without paying, given the state of the owner crumpled in the corner. Apparently, there was more history between Beric and Landreau than he’d thought. The wrecked bedroom was proof enough.

“I don’t know. I gave him about ten gold coins earlier.”

Ian paused mid-cut and turned to Beric, his lips pressed tight. Something was off.

Beric straightened up, sniffled, and wondered if he’d done something wrong.

“Why? Is that a problem?”

“Of course. Is that the current price in Bariel?”

“Huh? Oh, no. I’m no minister or anything.”

One gold coin equaled a peasant’s monthly income. And Beric had just paid ten times that for this low-grade meat.

Such an abnormal price hike was a clear sign of the kingdom’s turmoil and instability. Ian couldn’t help but be shocked.

Beric waved the bone dismissively.

“Prices have gone up, sure. Used to buy ten geun of meat; now only nine. But the gold I gave? Think of it as… compensation. Something like that.”

Compensation? Ian took a bite and glanced around the room. Yeah, some compensation was definitely in order. The ceiling was the only thing intact.

“I passed out in the mountains, and that bastard brought me here.”

“A kind of reward, then.”

“Yeah, that. But I didn’t expect this mess. Damn it.”

Beric tossed the bone at the unconscious Landreau. It thudded against his head, making him flinch reflexively, but he didn’t wake.

“I tried to get the money back, but after the fight, I lost track of the coins. So it’s basically a gift. Bring more meat, you lot!”

“Yes, yes! Please wait a moment!”

Bang! Beric slammed the table hard, but Ian’s knife never faltered. He was reassured, knowing the price was justified.

“But Beric, you said ‘passed out’?”

“The mole tribe cracked my skull with a hammer. Normally, I wouldn’t pass out, but I don’t know what those crazy bastards made it with. Before heading back to the palace, let’s stop by the mountains. I’m gonna wipe those bastards out.”

Ian set down his cutlery and raised an eyebrow. The Dera tribe was indeed in the Raja Mountains. Beric hadn’t been slacking in training all these years.

“That means they have enough power to knock out a royal guard swordsman. Most likely, they used some invention rather than brute strength. Better to see for myself. It still bothers me that the place I first opened my eyes in the Abyss was near Raja Mountain.”

“Hey Ian, you listening?”

Beric snapped his fingers to catch Ian’s attention. Ian smiled and nodded.

“Yeah. But before that—”

“Before what?”

“Tell me the prince’s orders. I’m guessing it was to detect Rutherford and head to Toalun?”

“You know me too well.”

Beric counted on his fingers, recalling the plan.

“Right, go to Toalun, confirm if Rutherford really returned, beat him to death, then check if you’re there. Meet the Atan tribe, and join Captain Hale.”

He remembered all that well.

But it was strange. They hadn’t even reached Toalun yet, and the prince’s orders remained unfulfilled. So why was Beric thinking of returning to the palace?

Ian sighed softly and folded one of Beric’s fingers.

“That’s done.”

“……”

He folded another.

“Confirming Rutherford’s true return is done too. He must have come back alive with me. But whether that’s in Toalun is another matter. Rutherford’s base is there, but given the current situation, he’s more likely in Burgos.”

To be precise, Toalun was the spiritual center that sustained the underground god’s existence. Burgos, which they used as a foothold to approach Bariel, was in civil war and chaos. It made sense to prioritize stabilizing Burgos first.

Besides, wasn’t the sacred rite for Jin’s sainthood coming up? That would mark a turning point in Bariel’s history and a new era. Neighboring countries would be quick to respond.

“If Rutherford appeared in Toalun, it might be a ruse to deceive Bariel. The prince was wise not to send too many troops.”

“I don’t know about all that.”

Ian decided to send a message to the palace. Just confirming that Rutherford and he had returned would widen Bariel’s options. As a servant struggled to bring another chunk of meat, Ian asked,

“Do you have carrier pigeons at the mansion?”

“Carrier pigeons? Pigeons? No, we don’t.”

“Even if you don’t have magic stones, that’s fine.”

“All we have with wings are chickens.”

“How long does it take to reach the capital by land?”

“I… don’t know.”

The servant had never been outside, so he couldn’t answer clearly. Ian’s worry deepened, and the servant added as he set down the dish,

“If you go to the market, you might find an old carrier pigeon. They’re rare, but I’ve seen a few.”

“The market? The place I was supposed to be sold to?”

“…Yes. That one.”

As the servant hurriedly backed away, Ian mapped out their next moves in his mind.

“Beric, let’s go to the market, send a report by carrier pigeon, then head to the mountains.”

“Sounds good.”

“Then you head north to fulfill the prince’s orders and return. I’ll go to the capital.”

“What?!”

Beric dropped his meat. Was this a joke or what?

“Come on, you’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all.”

What part seemed like a joke? Ian smiled firmly and resumed cutting his meat. Beric slowly buried his head in the table, realizing he wanted to return to the palace but couldn’t because of the prince’s orders.

Maybe he should try canceling the orders by sending a message? Though he wasn’t sure it would be accepted. Either way, they’d have to leave before any reply came.

“Oh, right.”

Ian hesitated, a question lingering. Wasn’t Captain Hale currently in the northern region? Mentioning the Atan tribe suggested the monster-infested area…

“Beric, who’s the current Minister of Magic? Captain Hale wouldn’t leave the palace unattended.”

“The minister? That’s your crap. The position’s been vacant since you left.”

Beric mumbled, forehead on the table.

“It’s been empty all this time. I told you, the Magic Department’s broke. The kids scattered. Half went to the northern monster-infested zone, the other half to Cliffopod in the south, busy planting Idgal.”

Ten years without a minister? Ian was so stunned he was at a loss for words.

Isn’t the Department of Magic one of the most crucial branches for maintaining and advancing the royal palace? It also served as a symbol of Bariel’s prestige to the outside world.

And yet, that very Department of Magic had scattered without a leader. That was hardly good news for the future struggle over Jin’s royal authority.

“…Are they controlling the Idgalo rift?”

“From what I’ve heard? It’s about absorbing magical energy. Zaira discovered it, and apparently, by doing this and that, they can suppress the rift.”

There were only two rifts near Bariel now: the northern monster-infested zone and the southern Klipoford. For the mages, it was an unavoidable choice.

Ian set down his food and fell silent for a moment.

“Ian?”

There was one more thing to do.

“…I have to call the mages back.”

He needed to gather the scattered ones and strengthen the Department of Magic. To stand against Rutherford and the underground god, the mages’ power was absolutely essential.

Ian pictured the map of Bariel in his mind. They were near the Raja Mountains here. How long would it take to reach the northern zone? Using a portal would be ideal, but unfortunately, Ian’s current magical energy wasn’t enough. It would take quite some time to recover, which would impose all sorts of limitations.

‘Go north, share magic with the mages to recover, open a portal together to the center, then head there alone. Which is better?’

He looked down at his gaunt wrist. Hunger was part of it, but after swimming through the Abyss, his stamina was completely drained.

Could he even ride a horse in this state? He’d have to find a carriage, but would there be one in the market? In a place where even a single letter was hard to come by?

“…Beric, no. Let’s stop by the market and the mountains, then head north together. I don’t think I can manage on my own.”

Beric perked up, jumped to his feet, and clapped loudly, as if to show full support for Ian’s decision.

“Right? That’s the way. The world’s rough enough as it is—if you wander around looking like that, you’ll get robbed by bandits for sure. Trust me.”

He then moved a large chunk of meat onto Ian’s plate, nodding encouragingly—as if to say, “Eat up, chew well.” When Ian smiled in acknowledgment, Beric smiled back.

“But you… considering you just came back from the Abyss, you look… how should I put it… pretty intact. Or maybe just more okay than I expected? I thought the Abyss was some terrible hell, but maybe it’s not exactly that.”

Then, a sudden question flashed through Ian’s mind.

“What exactly was the Abyss?”

Sensing Beric’s curiosity, Ian took a breath and answered quietly.

“It was a place filled with all the darkness of the world. That’s why I left my own darkness there.”