Chapter 484
The Next Morning
Ian changed into neat clothes and took care to groom himself properly before looking into the mirror. There stood Ian—the illegitimate son with blond hair and green eyes. Compared to how he looked back at the Bratz estate, he still appeared worn and tired, but his eyes shone with a distinct strength.
Every time Ian looked into the mirror, it felt as if he were facing the god he had seen in the abyss, and for some reason, that made him smile.
“You’re laughing at your own face? What a weirdo.”
“Beric, are you ready?”
“Not yet. I don’t have the right pen or paper, and I’m still filling the backpack. Looks like we ate a lot yesterday—the kitchen’s completely empty.”
“Alright, just fill it up enough. We’ll stop by the market anyway, so we can buy whatever we need there. Carrying too much is a pain.”
Earlier, the commotion between Beric and the servants had been quite loud. Beric was determined to secure the full ten gold coins, even ordering them to clear out the wine cellar to make room in the backpack. The servants were aghast, complaining that the fabric would tear.
Judging by Beric’s cheerful smile now, it seemed they had found a solution. Ian glanced at the shabby patch sewn onto the side of the backpack and thought the servants must have had a hard time. To exaggerate slightly, the backpack was swollen to a size that Ian himself could fit inside.
“Honestly, what do you take me for? When I was training, I used to run carrying ten of these at once.”
“And Landreau?”
“He’s been pretending to be unconscious since last night. What should we do? Kill him and move on? The way he acts is just suspicious—really off.”
Kidnapping was second nature to him, and he had no qualms about murder. Ian agreed with that assessment but smoothed his sleeves and said firmly:
“Keep him alive for now.”
“Why? We should just clean things up neatly and leave.”
“You don’t have that right—not you, Beric, especially not now. With His Majesty’s coming coming-of-age ceremony and coronation, we must be careful not to cause any trouble, even from falling leaves. What if rumors spread that the Imperial Guard killed a citizen?”
If the rumors grew into something like “They killed innocent citizens,” who knows how far that would spiral?
There are plenty of foolish people who believe baseless rumors. There might be no immediate problem, but from a broader perspective, caution was necessary. Not for himself, but for Jin.
“I’ll request that the central government send an investigation team to the Western District. If slave trading is happening in the nearby market, it means the guards are ineffective. The whole system needs to be overhauled—officially documented.”
“Got it, got it. Oh, Ian, look at this.”
Beric dragged something in from outside with his foot. A jumble of odd-shaped scrap metal rolled roughly into the room.
What is that? Ian wondered briefly, then realized all the pieces were strange objects belonging to the Dera tribe.
“I heard they stole a lot of stuff from the Mole tribe. Apparently, it happened often when they climbed the mountain. Especially that one guy—Hot or something like that.”
Ian crouched down and rummaged through the pile. Most of it was unrecognizable, and even when he guessed their purpose, most looked like failed experiments. Collecting junk like this and selling it at the market seemed to be a decent source of income.
Beric clicked his tongue, recalling the muscular arms of the Mole tribe they had last seen.
“Those guys have no fear. If a normal person got hit in the head with a hammer, they’d be dead.”
“Beric, bring the stuff behind you over here, too.”
“Oh, this? I thought I’d seen it somewhere before.”
Ian picked up a very familiar object with both hands.
“…A dripper.”
A kind of automatic recording device. It marked dots at regular intervals—an essential component of automated machinery. Even during Ian’s reign as emperor, it was a key part of a major revolutionary technology under research.
Ian knew why Beric was familiar with it.
“Beric, you’ve seen one before. A long time ago.”
“When?”
“When we were at Bratz. Lady Lien Mereloff gave it to me as a gift. I brought it with me when I came to the capital. If Romandro didn’t throw out my stuff, it should still be somewhere in the mansion.”
“Throw out? No way. The room you used on the second floor is still exactly the same.”
Ian looked up at Beric, surprised. Ten whole years had passed. Didn’t he say the child had grown? Surely the child would need a room, yet the room remained untouched?
“Vivi’s still little, so she uses the small room. When she grows up, we’ll move her somewhere else.”
“…Looks like the rent’s overdue.”
“Yeah. You’re going to have to work like a beast.”
Ian smiled faintly, and Beric gestured for the dripper in his hand.
“So, you’re taking this too? I wonder if there’s room in the backpack. Should I sew on another pocket?”
“Hmm.”
Ian hesitated. This dripper was identical to the one he had. It must have been stolen recently. If not, Landreau would have sold it for scrap by now.
Then, a sudden thought struck Ian.
‘…The dripper from ten years ago looks exactly the same as this one.’
He had a rough idea what that meant.
Ian handed the object back to Beric and said:
“No, don’t take it.”
“Then what?”
Back when Ian was emperor, drippers were among the most difficult parts to manufacture. It took dozens of craftsmen years of effort to make just one.
The dripper gifted to him ten years ago was surely the only one of its kind before it was stolen. That meant…
‘This one is also unique in the world.’
“Destroy it.”
“Huh?”
Despite the Dera tribe’s decade-long efforts, they hadn’t been able to improve or abandon the automatic recording device. If this was their last dripper, and they had to invest years of labor to make a new one, wouldn’t the dripper in the capital become a link to the Dera tribe?
“Destroy it. Smash it to pieces so it’s unrecognizable.”
An hour on an old donkey.
They had traveled around the base of Mount Raja, and all that could be seen were grass, hills, and wildflowers. But as they neared the market, a faint but definite liveliness filled the air.
Ian felt as if he were witnessing Bariel ten years later for the first time since emerging from the abyss. At the same time, he realized just how remote Landreau’s mansion truly was.
“Wild greens for sale! Cheap!”
“Lottery tickets, two donghwa each. Barter accepted.”
“Hey! Why are you in someone else’s spot?”
“Whose spot? Are you some kind of lord?”
“Traveler! Are you passing through? I’ll give you a discount. Stay here.”
Shops were rare; most vendors sold their goods from stalls or carts.
Ian and Beric pulled their robes tighter, avoiding attention. Then, from afar, a boy selling newspapers came running, waving a yellowed paper and shouting:
“Newspapers! Fresh news from the capital! This is huge! Something happened at the palace! If you’re curious, buy a paper and read!”
In the capital, everyone would have reached out for a copy, but here, people were surprisingly indifferent. It was almost as if they thought the capital was a foreign land. Ian nudged Beric’s side, and Beric raised his hand.
“One here! Newspaper.”
“Hello, traveler! How much?”
“One donghwa.”
While Beric paid, Ian took the paper first. The headline announced the emperor’s death. After a long illness, the emperor’s condition suddenly worsened, and he had passed away.
‘His Majesty has lifted the freeze.’
Gera had shown his will to pass Bariel by ending his own life.
Since the death came shortly after the freeze, regardless of Rutherford’s presence, it was clear the decision had been made first.
“What’s wrong? Something happened?”
“The emperor has died.”
“Really? He lived a long time, but was bedridden and couldn’t move. Well, the palace must be busy now. Good thing you’re out.”
The newspaper boy’s eyes narrowed as he focused on Beric’s mention of the palace. Ian quickly asked:
“Is there a place nearby that handles official mail?”
Usually, places that handled mail also managed official dispatches. In a developed place like the capital, even low-grade magic stones were included.
But here, Ian didn’t expect much. He imagined a stall with a couple of pigeons for sale. That alone was enough for Ian.
“Official mail? This way, please.”
The boy led them down an alley, and Ian’s expectations were spot on. A tented shop lined with empty birdcages.
Rustle!
“This is it? Really?”
“Well, hello there, customer. What do you need to send?”
Beric pinched his nose at the smell of bird droppings. Two old pigeons dozed inside rusty cages, looking too weak to fly.
Beric shook his head vigorously at Ian.
“This won’t do. Ian, these birds will die trying to fly.”
“Nonsense! They’re still spry.”
“Are you kidding? They look like they couldn’t even be cooked.”
“Beric.”
Ian stepped in front of Beric, signaling him to calm down. The shopkeeper looked displeased but patiently dealt with the rare customer.
“If this is going to the palace, the process must be flawless. Can you guarantee that?”
“The… the Imperial Palace?”
The shop owner froze, eyes wide at the incredible destination. But then, realizing it meant money, he eagerly nodded.
“Of course! But we can’t send it directly to the palace. The carrier pigeons don’t know the route, and we don’t have any magic stones. The only way is to send it via the central post office as a relay point. Will that be alright?”
“No, I have the magic stones.”
Beric waved off the unnecessary worry and pulled out his ID. With a click, he pressed the side of the card, and a small magic stone popped out attached to it.
“Still, I’m not sure if those birds can even fly that far.”
“…Is there a way to send it by land?”
“Once every two weeks, the guards go up to the central post to pick up supplies. You could send it with them then. Otherwise, you’d have to find someone else, but most haven’t really been outside, so it’s not exactly safe.”
The guards were out of the question. They weren’t trustworthy, and since the message would include a request to dispatch an investigation team, if anything went wrong en route, the message might never get through.
Ian watched the two dozing pigeons quietly for a moment, then nodded in understanding. There was no special way around it.
“I’ll send one bird.”
“Excellent choice! I’ll take full responsibility!”
“Can I borrow some paper and a pen?”
“Y-yes, of course. Normally there’s a fee for that—”
“Charge me. Why would I want a discount?”
“No, haha.”
Just as Ian reached for the pen, he glanced back at Beric. Now that he was out here alone, did that mean he could write and submit reports on his own?
“Beric, you can write now?”
“What are you talking about? Look.”
He slid a roughly scrawled note across the table.
Beric handed the pen to Ian after scribbling the report. “Your turn next. Go on, let everyone know you’re here.”
Ian fiddled with the pen, then carefully wrote the opening lines.