Chapter 525

“Life’s really unpredictable. Who would’ve thought this guy would end up king?”

Beric, sprawled out on the sofa, muttered in amazement. Ten years ago, when he came up from the borderlands, trapped in a beast’s body and helpless, and now—he’d returned to his homeland and claimed the throne.

Beric suddenly sat up and asked Ian, “Didn’t they say those people usually live in small, isolated tribes?”

“They did mention several factions. Hasha’s grandmother was the head of the necromancer faction. Seems like a lot must have happened. But honestly, you probably know more about it than I do.”

Ian had been in the Abyss, while Beric had never left the central lands. Romandro, sharpening his quill, shook his head knowingly.

“Unless they fought in the Burgos civil war, the northern small kingdoms weren’t really on Bariel’s radar. They weren’t countries with much interaction or official events. The only way to keep up was through correspondence. Well, that’s just how life goes.”

“So Hasha must be eating all the meat she wants now, huh? Talk about a total life turnaround.”

“You eat your fill of meat too. And you’re not even a king. So you’re the real winner here.”

“Come on, Romandro. I’m always eating with one eye open.”

“Oh, please. If you weren’t so cautious, you’d have gnawed through the palace pillars by now.”

“Here we go again. Is this because your quill slipped earlier? Give it here! I’ll write it down for you!”

“No thanks! I’d rather just write it with my foot.”

Grumbling, Romandro pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and unfolded it with solemn care.

“Also, Hasha sustains herself through necromancy, so she doesn’t actually need to eat. Though who knows what she’s up to now.”

The Hasha Ian had seen during the Clifford-Burgos war might be very different from the one now. A life lived by inhabiting the bodies of the dead—similar to Rutherford’s reincarnation, but fundamentally a different way to survive.

Ian checked the list for Luswena as well.

Sliding through the pages, he said, “Looks like Eldert succeeded there.”

“Ah, yes. I know that well. It’s been three or four years since his ascension. A lot has happened in Luswena since then.”

When King Eriphoni of Luswena died suddenly in the palace due to a mysterious illness, Eldert rushed home, abandoning any claims for war reparations. The death of a defeated king could be seen as an opportunity for opposition forces to seize power.

Ian still thought Eldert’s choice was a wise one.

“All the mages defected to Bariel, and the king died before anyone could hold him accountable… Eldert carries the royal bloodline, but in terms of legitimacy, he’s lacking.”

“He’s a cousin, right?”

“Yeah. Luswena values direct lineage more than other countries. Ugh, don’t even get me started. Burgos is a mess now, but Luswena wasn’t exactly a walk in the park at first.”

The palace was torn apart by brutal civil war.

Bloodied hands reached for the empty throne, and golden fields swayed restlessly in the wind. It was a chaotic world. Ian remembered watching little Vivi toddle away, worrying about the future every night.

“Still, unlike Burgos, Luswena managed to settle things internally. That’s fortunate, at least from their perspective.”

“What’s Eldert’s political stance like?”

“He was Eriphoni’s aide and has inherited much of his approach. They pay reparations on time but aren’t exactly submissive to Bariel.”

“I see.”

Should they have dealt with Eriphoni’s situation as well?

At the very least, some measures should have been taken when Eldert returned home. If it weren’t for the Rutherford incident, the war might have been wrapped up cleanly.

‘Jin must have had a tough time.’

So young, with no support, navigating this complex political landscape to become crown prince. Even walking a well-paved path would be hard enough.

Ian flipped through the documents slowly, feeling a pang of sympathy.

“So Eldert won’t attend the coronation, then? He’ll send someone else?”

“That’s what the foreign ministry expects. The magic stones they requested are low grade. But how did you know that?”

“I have some bad memories from the palace. Besides, if Bariel falls, Luswena stands to gain. If Eldert showed up in person, that would raise questions.”

International relations are built on countless small details. They require careful interpretation and handling. Ian added, nodding at Romandro.

“And reclaiming what was lost is a natural step for Luswena.”

“By ‘what was lost,’ you mean the mages?”

No amount of persuasion would bring back the exiled mages. Not just individually, but Bariel wouldn’t sit idly by either.

From Luswena’s perspective, the easiest, surest, and fastest way is to eliminate the mages’ strongholds. Bariel and the palace—most effectively, the magic department.

Ian nodded.

“Include everything. Also, compile a report on Luswena’s internal situation. It’s best to be prepared. If Eldert doesn’t come, narrow down the candidates.”

“Oh boy, more work.”

Romandro, caught off guard, sniffled and began jotting down the orders.

“And what about the Duchess Holin? Have you found anything?”

“What?”

“The Duchess Holin.”

“Oh, right. Just a moment.”

Romandro rummaged through the piles of documents and pulled out a few sheets.

“I’ve been asking around, but it’s been really hard to find any trace. She’s kept a very low profile. She hasn’t been seen in society for nearly ten years. The last official news from the palace was before she went home to recover—”

“Home?”

“Tusti, a small town in southern Bariel. But recently, there are rumors she’s in Burgos.”

“What does that mean?”

Ian looked up, and Romandro twirled his beard, clearly puzzled.

“They say the Duchess is handling weapons distribution in Burgos. Holin’s side hasn’t officially commented, which makes sense since it’s a business secret. But they haven’t denied it either, so it seems likely. And there are immigration records to back it up.”

The weapons trade in Burgos was one of the Holin family’s business secrets. Naturally, the family had to oversee it, and since the Duchess was the only one missing, everyone tacitly assumed she was in charge.

Beric, listening quietly, asked suspiciously, “She went down to Tusti or whatever, but now she’s in Burgos? That sounds fishy.”

“Maybe she went straight from there to Burgos. Anyway, that’s all I could find out, Ian.”

Romandro shrugged and set the papers down, but Ian didn’t respond. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully with the back of his pen.

“One more thing.”

“Again? What now?”

“About the Burgos royal family. Do they have black hair and purple eyes? That would clear up some questions.”

Every bloodline has distinct genetic traits. Bariel has blue eyes, Luswena has teal hair.

They couldn’t be sure about Burgos, but Damon’s half-sister, Vania, had black hair and purple eyes, so it was a reasonable guess.

But if the Duchess Holin and Lady Kyla from Burgos shared those features?

“It’s remarkable that the Duchess, who never appeared publicly, managed to secure and maintain a business route in a country torn by civil war. Did the palace ever question this when granting the business rights?”

“They only granted the rights. What the Holin family does in Burgos is entirely their choice and method. It’s not the palace’s concern.”

“I’m pretty sure the Duchess is from Burgos.”

“What? No, she’s from a noble family in Tusti.”

“Who knows? For now, the evidence points to her being Burgos-born. Especially if she’s of royal blood, she could have allied with the pro-Bariel royalists to establish the trade routes.”

Romandro awkwardly picked up and put down the papers.

No, Ian, the Duchess is from a noble family in Tusti, he wanted to say, but Ian’s reasoning made sense, so he kept quiet.

A knock at the door.

“Ian, are you there?”

“Come in.”

“I brought some important documents for the administration, but the person in charge wasn’t here, so I’m returning with them.”

A mage entered humming cheerfully. Despite the failed delivery, he looked unusually happy, prompting Romandro to ask curiously.

“You look really pleased. What’s going on?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe what I heard at the administration! The world these days is so dynamic. It’s fantastic.”

“What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

The mage handed the documents back to Ian and chattered excitedly.

“All the officials from the Davion family who were in the administration and other departments have all left. The whole system’s paralyzed. Do you know why they all left the palace?”

He sounded like he’d just heard something secret and thrilling.

Ian smiled faintly and twirled his pen, while Romandro and Beric’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Rumor has it that the Hollin family was secretly colluding with the Burgos clan.”

“Huh? What did you say?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ian paused, stopping his paperwork to look up at the mage. Judging by his expression, there was more to the story—something even juicier waiting to be told.

“Something about jewels, but I’m not clear on the details. The important part is that this was brought up by Lady Chloe Davion, the daughter of the Davion family. Apparently, it happened during some tea party. There was a bit of a spat with Lady Kyla.”

“A bit of a spat, you say…?”

Thump-thump. Romandro and Beric clasped their hands together, eyes glued to the mage, waiting for the rest. The mage, as if feeding their anticipation, picked up an empty cup from the desk. Their gazes sparkled brighter than any gem.

Swish!

“Gah! Seriously?!”

The mage mimed splashing water on someone, and Romandro gasped in shock, shouting out loud. The mage then flicked his fingers.

“It’s not over yet. Watch this.”

Rolling up his sleeves, he delivered a slap to Beric with all his might.

Smack!

“Ah!”

“Oops, sorry. Why did I get hit?”

“You idiot! You got hit because you hit first!”

“Usually, you dodge just fine. Ah, my bad. It was on purpose. No, wait—an accident.”

While Beric clutched his right cheek, laughing nervously, Romandro, practically bouncing with excitement, urged the mage to continue. “Come on, tell us what happened next!”

“You said someone got hit? Who hit who?”

“Judging by the Davion side storming out, it must have been Lady Chloe Davion who got slapped.”

“Wow, no way. That’s incredible. And it’s not just anyone—it’s those two, both aiming for the Empress’s throne, getting into a fight.”

“Exactly. These are people who can easily fend off most attacks, and yet… I’m dying to know what they said to each other. Since the slap came from the Hollin side, I’m guessing the Davions started by splashing water?”

Ah! So curious, so curious!

Romandro kept shaking his head in disbelief, while Beric rubbed his cheek against the sofa, still a bit swollen.

“Watching fights is the best! Ian! Let’s go watch! If Davion and Hollin really go at it, let’s root for whoever wins!”

Thud.

Ian calmly set down his pen and smiled gently.

“Shall we?”