Chapter 577

Tweller downed the last of his drink in one gulp, then let out a heavy, regretful sigh.

Emperor Jin Verosion stood firm and resolute, surrounded by loyal followers who had sworn their allegiance.

So why, then, had the nation of Bariel in Ian’s time seemingly reached its end? What had happened in Bariel over the past hundred years to bring it to ruin?

“Lord Ian,” Tweller began, “a hundred years is a long stretch in human terms, but in the grand scope of history, it’s but a fleeting moment. Since the reign of His Majesty Emperor Jin, there’s been a sudden decline that can’t be ignored. What exactly happened?”

Ian shook his head lightly, as if only able to offer speculation.

“Well, it’s all interconnected, so pinpointing the exact moment things went wrong is impossible. The battle against the Atan tribe in the northern territories, the resulting losses suffered by the palace guard, the fall of Agiar, the loss of Rutherford, and the current emptiness of the palace—all these are chapters in the history of Bariel.”

He looked toward Jin and added, “As I said before, my existence is proof that Jin’s history exists, and Jin’s present forms the foundation of my future.”

“But one thing is certain: the gods have deemed this moment—the moment I stand here with you all—to be the right time.”

“I agree with that. Without Lord Ian, we would have faced countless hardships.”

“In the midst of the great threat posed by the Arsen incident, you were a beacon of light. I think I’m beginning to understand the will of the gods.”

“Lord Ian, in your timeline, was there no such war? It seems the downfall of Bariel is tied to the Shadow of the Gods, centered in Toorun.”

“There were traces of the Shadow infiltrating the palace, much like with Arsen. Without that, Bariel could not have fallen so drastically in just a hundred years.”

Ian raised a hand, signaling for calm.

“Some things may have changed slightly due to my involvement, but history unfolds within a grand framework. The annihilation of the Atan tribe in the north and the religious wars with Toorun are well-documented events. The new religion that arose in Toorun wielded great influence across Gaia, except in Bariel.”

“So, the influence of the underground gods will, a hundred years later, completely consume Gaia. Even if they never directly entered Bariel, their negative impact was undeniable.”

“Yes, I share that view.”

Minister Tweller stroked his white beard thoughtfully, letting out a deep sigh as if lost in contemplation. Empty bottles lined up before him, but his expression remained unchanged.

“In my opinion, Lord Ian—”

“Please, speak freely.”

“Since the conflict with Toorun is already recorded history, perhaps the gods desire something beyond that.”

“What do you mean? Could you explain it simply? There’s a few of us here who aren’t exactly quick on the uptake.”

Beric, chewing on some jerky, interrupted. Tweller shot him a brief, disdainful glance.

“What I mean is this: the clash with Toorun has already happened, so it alone can’t be the turning point to save Bariel. But after that, there must be something Lord Ian can do—something the gods have guided us toward.”

“Oh, why didn’t you say so earlier? Ian, do you have any idea what that might be?”

“No, I don’t. I suppose we’ll only know when the time comes.”

“Right, let’s just go then—go and—!”

Bang!

Beric slammed his glass down roughly, taking a deep breath. His harsh breathing betrayed a barely contained fury.

“So it’s about taking down the underground gods, isn’t it?”

If that’s the case, then Bariel a hundred years from now would be fine, and Ian wouldn’t be crushed under Crony’s oppression and die. The solution was simple and clear—though, of course, there were complications.

“Lord Ian, I understand that eradicating the underground gods is the will of the gods, your will, and ultimately the greater good for Bariel. But if that happens, what will become of you?”

Jin, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. This wasn’t a question about Ian Verosion, but about Ian Hielo.

Just as Jin had his own Bariel, Ian had his own version of Bariel. It was inevitable that one day he would leave. But before that—what of Ian Hielo?

“Ian Hielo was originally a figure absent from history.”

“What are you saying? You’ve done so much here.”

“Beric, it’s true. The surname Hielo was familiar, but that was all. In my time, Ian Hielo did not exist.”

Beric’s pupils dilated and trembled slightly. What did this mean? That someday, Ian’s traces in this world would be completely erased?

Beric was left speechless, his mouth opening and closing. Jerat looked at him with concern, thinking to himself:

“So that’s why he had no hesitation in revealing this.”

He must have been certain that this existence would vanish someday, which is why he shared the shocking truth that Ian would become emperor a hundred years later.

Jin seemed to have anticipated this, but Beric was visibly stunned, blinking helplessly.

“Didn’t King Damon also live his life twice?”

“That’s right, Minister Tweller.”

“Is there a connection?”

“I traveled back in time by the will of the gods, but Damon is definitely linked to the underground gods. If we want to uncover the truth, we must capture Rutherford.”

“Hmm. I see. That makes sense.”

Quietly, Jin slid a sheet of paper and a pen forward. Despite his puzzled look, Ian instinctively took the pen.

“Why this, Your Majesty?”

“Write down the names of all those who conspired with Crony at the time, including Duke Hiron. Also, record your thoughts on the institutional shortcomings and the palace’s political situation as you remember them.”

Ian had helped Jin so far; now it was time for Jin to return the favor. To completely eradicate the seeds of impurity that would sprout in the future.

He wanted, if possible, to wipe out the entire Crony family so that such a being would never be born—but that might affect Ian’s existence, since they shared blood.

“Your Majesty, Bariel is currently stable and prosperous. The royal family need only watch the future unfold and focus all efforts on repelling the underground gods. That alone will suffice.”

“…Let’s keep a close eye on the Hiron family for now.”

“Yes, if that is your will, we shall simply observe.”

Having overcome the crisis of Agiar’s fall, everyone now had a new goal: to stop the underground gods, win the war, and seize complete dominance over Gaia. Burgos was just a piece of the puzzle; the true threat lay in Toorun above.

Tweller vowed victory as a warrior, and Jin embraced his power as emperor. The problem was…

“Beric?”

Jerat snapped his fingers in front of Beric’s face, but Beric remained unresponsive, lost in thought—or perhaps unconscious with his eyes open.

Beric slowly lifted his gaze to Ian, then bit his lower lip.

“Ian.”

“Yes, Beric.”

“You said you met a god, right?”

“My very existence is proof of that.”

Good. Beric clenched his mouth shut and nodded vigorously. If gods existed, there must be a way. A way for Ian and the others to share the same timeline. If not, then damn it, they’d just have to fight their way to create one.

“Minister Ian.”

Quietly, Jerat turned away from Beric and tilted a bottle. Ian’s empty glass was soon refilled.

“Thank you for your hard work. Though it was long ago, I want to sincerely apologize for having misunderstood you.”

This was an apology for the years when they had kept watch over the lone prince, fearing Ian might wield too much power.

Ian shook his head and instead praised him.

“You did well. At that time, the magic department’s power was absolute, and His Majesty was too young for balance to be maintained. To be honest, if you hadn’t kept watch, I would have worried about that.”

Perhaps this was where the empire’s vulnerabilities began, prompting a major reorganization of the palace. The fact that those close to Jin—like the prime minister and Jerat—were trusted to keep an eye on Ian was a relief to him.

“Balance. Yes, that’s important.”

As Ian and Jerat lightly clinked their glasses, Jin muttered with his arms crossed. No matter how he looked at it, there was no sign of collapse within the royal family now.

That left only one answer.

The underground gods. The root cause of everything. The fundamental reason Ian had been bound, oppressed, and robbed of joy.

“We’ll spend two days regrouping the army in Agiar and await word from Barsabe. Continue searching the buried barriers. We will recover the remains of all missing soldiers.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I will obey your orders.”

“Once preparations are complete, we’ll move south to closely monitor the Burgos royalist faction, capture the capital Kalamath, and then immediately advance on Toorun. Send a messenger to the palace to gather intelligence on Toorun’s situation.”

“Your Majesty, I apologize for the interruption, but it would be wise to also keep an eye on the eastern regions of Bariel—Ruswena and Hawan. If we move toward Toorun, we’ll be quite far from Bariel, making it difficult to respond quickly should anything happen.”

“Even with Cliffopod there, you think so?”

“Of course. It’s the soldiers of our own country who protect our land. While Clifford is an ally, in the end, he will act in their interest. To fully safeguard Bariel, we have no choice but to remain vigilant.”

“The pursuit team is also searching with the Luswena mages, so you can wait a little longer before making a decision. What do you think, Sir Ian?”

Ian nodded in agreement at Tweller’s question.

“Yes. For now, it’s best to focus on completely dealing with Agiar, then catch our breath before moving on to the next step.”

“Understood. We’ll do just that. Tonight, I’ll have the soldiers served with wine and meat to help them unwind and recover their strength.”

“A wise decision, Your Majesty.”

“And Sir Ian—”

A faint scent of alcohol drifted from Tweller’s sigh.

“My apologies.”

“What do you mean?”

“Whatever the gods have done, as Minister of Imperial Defense, I bear responsibility for the future. I apologize for that. I must steel myself and set my resolve straight. Consider this my apology to you.”

Beyond titles like minister or emperor, there was a genuine respect between them as human beings. How had this young man endured so much and grown into such a formidable presence?

Tweller placed a hand over his chest and gave the imperial salute. Ian smiled and bowed in return.

“Our Ian. Oh, you’ve suffered so much because of that miserable little pest.”

“Accorella!”

A slightly tipsy Accorella wrapped her arms around Ian’s shoulder, rubbing her head against him with a look of sympathy. Hale tried to pull her away, lightly slapping the back of her hand.

“Don’t worry, Ian. If I ever see that Crony bastard, I’ll make sure he pays. The more I think about it, the crazier he seems, right?”

“That’s right! Our little Beric’s got it all figured out!”

“Acco, you’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“Ha, I’m drunk on sorrow, you idiot.”

Ian just laughed and patted Accorella’s back. Then he gently tapped the backs of Hale, who was nearby, Beric rushing over, and Jindo, who approached more slowly. He embraced them all.

It was warm. Familiar. Ian realized it was similar to the warmth Crony had once given him, but he quickly shook his head.

‘…No. This is warmer.’

A gift granted to me by the gods themselves.