Episode 5

“Ian?”

The child glanced nervously at Ian before calling out. His complexion wasn’t bad, but there was a strange sharpness in his eyes. Rumors had been swirling that Ian seemed different today, but no one expected it to be this intense.

“Ah, yes.”

Only then did Ian understand Chel’s attitude.

After all, Chel had been holding his mother’s life hostage, which explained the cruel words that had snapped out so quickly. Ian smiled gently and thanked the child.

“That’s enough. There’s nothing more to report.”

“Huh? But…”

The child’s eyes widened in surprise. This was unusual. Ian was the type who always brought back a bundle of small stories every time he went out. Since the servant couldn’t read or write, he usually scribbled rough sketches to help him remember.

“My father went out.”

“The Count?”

Today was a special luncheon with the gathered officials. The Count’s schedule was different from usual. The servant, who went out at regular intervals, must have overlooked that.

“It would be dangerous if you happened to run into him. Besides, you’re still quite young. Be careful where you step.”

Apparently, the brothel was mentioned repeatedly—a dangerous place even in Ian’s time. A hundred years ago, it must have been even worse.

If you were unlucky, even a healthy man could be knocked out by a drug and robbed. There was no way Ian could send a child there.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Hm? With what?”

“You cry late into the night, don’t you…?”

Ian knew someone was aware of his late-night tears. Did he have a roommate? If not, it meant someone was outside his door in the dead of night.

‘So they’re keeping watch on me.’

That was a relief. It was good to find out before making a mistake. Ian smiled softly and replied,

“I’m fine now. I don’t cry anymore.”

“Th-then, what about your payment for the errand…?”

“Payment?”

The servant looked like he might cry instead, fidgeting with his fingers, clearly embarrassed. Ian instinctively reached into his pocket but found it empty.

“If I don’t bring food today, my siblings might go hungry. I’m really okay, so please send me on the errand. This time, I promise to bring back the exact words, not a single word wrong.”

So the payment wasn’t money. That made sense. The child had been born poor and was now practically imprisoned in the mansion. He probably didn’t have a single coin to his name.

“Please, Ian.”

Then what was Ian’s payment in this mansion? It was three full meals a day.

‘No wonder you’re so thin.’

The Cheonryeo tribe was a hardy, tough barbarian people. One of them could hold their own against dozens of enemies. That’s why their tribe alone was a headache for the Bariel Empire.

The standards of strength were already worlds apart, so sending a skinny child like Ian out would surely raise eyebrows.

Thanks to that, his meals were served equally, no different from the Count’s family. That was all Ian was given—his currency to the outside world.

“I have five younger siblings. If I don’t bring back payment for the errand, they’ll have to fill their stomachs with thin porridge.”

The servant begged earnestly, even wiping his hands together. Ian guessed the estate was struggling, but not this badly.

Still, Ian couldn’t guarantee his own safety right now. He couldn’t just take the child’s side blindly. After a moment’s thought, Ian nodded.

“Alright. But there’s a condition. This time, it’s an advance. I’ll give you the payment first, and you’ll work when I ask later.”

“Ah!”

The child bowed repeatedly, clearly delighted by the offer.

So there was someone here willing to help Ian. Even if it was a transactional relationship, it was better than nothing. Having an ally in any form was a blessing.

“And I want to call you something easier.”

Ian thought it was time to learn the child’s name. He hinted at it, implying he’d be asking for many favors in the future.

The child caught on and smiled brightly.

“Call me Haena! Everyone in the mansion calls me that!”

Before, Ian had only called her “Hey, you” or “You know.” Haena introduced herself clearly, as if she’d been waiting for this moment.

---

Ian’s room was at the end of the third-floor corridor.

The moment he opened the door, a wave of mildew hit him. The small window was clearly insufficient for ventilation. This was definitely not a guest room but a servant’s quarters.

The old chair creaked, but it didn’t break Ian’s concentration. Fortunately, there was cheap paper and a pen in the corner. The child’s attempts at writing were evident—more like drawings than actual letters.

“Year 1100 of the Empire.”

Ian learned the exact date from Haena.

He had been in the year 1198, so he had traveled nearly a century into the past. His rough estimate of about 100 years was correct. Ian sighed deeply and brushed back his golden hair.

‘Where on earth do I even begin…?’

Whether it was Naum or not, he was definitely caught in someone’s space-time magic. Otherwise, this was a vision he saw at the moment of death.

‘For now, the only connection is that the person possessing this body shares my name.’

But that didn’t mean much. The name Ian wasn’t rare or special.

Swish, swish.

To clear his mind, Ian began jotting down major events on the paper. If this was a vision or another world, things would unfold differently than he expected.

“Hmm.”

Ian smoothly recorded the historical timeline of Bariel’s future. There were gaps here and there, but that was fine. No notable events meant peace.

“By the way, why is there so little paper on a child’s desk?”

The clean sheets quickly filled with dense writing. The only remaining scraps were covered in strange, crooked handwriting—probably Ian’s own. He sighed and tried to decipher it, but it was impossible.

‘Are these even letters? The patterns suggest something was written, but it’s not Bariel’s language, is it?’

Knock, knock.

At that moment, a sound came from outside. Ian quickly tucked the paper into the drawer and turned around. Whoever it was, it would be bad if they saw him reading.

“Come in.”

“I’ve brought your dinner, Ian.”

Ah, Haena.

He smoothed the crumpled paper in the drawer and looked out the window. The sun was setting. It was early spring, but the evening sky still held the heavy traces of winter. The glow stones on the ceiling began to emit a faint light.

“Haena.”

“Yes?”

Glow stones were much cheaper than candles. They only gave off a soft light, enough to make out shapes in the dark.

“Could you bring me a candlestick?”

“Oh, that… Everyone who enters your room needs the Countess’s permission.”

Haena’s embarrassed voice came from beyond the door. Judging by the shabby state of the room, there was no way they’d allow it. Ian was the child who had caused the Count’s ‘mistake’ outside. He could imagine how much of a thorn in their side he was.

‘Maybe I should be grateful they don’t starve me.’

“…Should I ask for permission?”

The odds of getting a used candle versus being scolded for needing one— which was higher? Especially on a day when proud Chel had made a blunder in the reception room.

“No, it’s fine. You can go now.”

“Very well. I’ll leave then.”

Ian heard Haena’s footsteps fade away.

He picked up the pen again. He tried several times to write more, but it was too dark to even see the ink pot. He leaned back in the chair and stared toward the door.

Creak.

A small tray had been placed there. Two pieces of rye bread, a cheap slice of ham, and some water.

“Well, well.”

This was the bare minimum Haena had left after taking her payment. No wonder Ian was so weak. He clicked his tongue and carried the tray inside.

Not ideal, but what can you do with an empty stomach?

He dipped the bread in water and nibbled. Even orphans on the battlefield ate better than this. They at least had goulash soup…

“Ah!”

A breeze seemed to clear the fog in his mind. Everything sharpened, and an itch was scratched.

Right, something felt off about the kitchen.

The lavish luncheon had felt lacking somehow.

‘There was no goulash.’

Goulash was a nutrient-rich vegetable often eaten as a meal substitute. It was delicious and versatile, a staple ingredient every Bariel citizen kept on hand.

The discovery of goulash was a turning point for the empire.

It reduced annual deaths from famine by nearly 85%, dividing Bariel’s history into before and after its discovery.

‘Originally, goulash wouldn’t be discovered for another fifty years.’

It wasn’t an invention but a discovery.

Not creating something new, but realizing what already existed. Goulash came from the East, but except for the seeds, it was toxic. No one had recognized it as edible, so it was discarded in the mountains and fields, becoming naturalized.

‘No one knew how to eat this strange Eastern food for fifty years.’

But Ian knew how to prepare goulash. That meant if he could ‘discover’ it now, he could erase the great famine from Bariel’s history.

“Unbelievable.”

Ian suddenly wished this was all real.

This wasn’t some magical illusion—it was truly a journey back to Bariel’s past. And with that, the hope to change history.

“Ian, it’s alright. There’s always, always a chance. The gods don’t give us problems without answers.”

Naum’s final words echoed in my ears. I didn’t fully understand yet, but somehow, I felt like I could find the answer—whatever it might be.

“For now, I just have to survive, no matter what.”

And then, head to the palace—to trace Naum’s footsteps.

That was the first decision I made.