Chapter 589
“Ugh…”
Barsabe groaned, her head pounding as if it would split open. The mage who had been cleaning her legs jumped up in surprise and gently pushed her back down when she tried to sit up.
“Agent Barsabe, are you coming to your senses?”
“My head… it hurts so much…”
“That’s to be expected. You’ve been through a lot. Still, I’m relieved you’re awake and coherent. The doctor said if you didn’t regain consciousness by tomorrow, it would be really dangerous. You must be thirsty, but please wait a moment. You can’t drink water just yet.”
The mage injected an accelerator serum from Akorella into her arm and handed her a damp cloth. He told her to moisten her dry mouth first.
Barsabe stared up at the tent’s ceiling and asked, “How many days has it been? What about Rutherford?”
“Three days now. Rutherford was captured alive that very night. They say the execution of the remaining rebels will be held soon. Ian has gone there as well, and His Majesty, along with most of the palace guards, should be inside Agiar Castle.”
“I see. That’s a relief.”
Just knowing Rutherford had been caught gave Barsabe the strength to endure everything—the searing pain tearing through her body, the humiliation she suffered during the battle, even the shame of confronting her own shortcomings.
“How’s my condition exactly?”
“I’m not sure what you’re asking—daily life or combat readiness?”
“Both.”
“I don’t think you’ll be sent into battle anytime soon. Your body is covered in countless torn and gaping wounds. But since the palace guard isn’t what it used to be, I can’t say what the higher-ups will decide. As for daily life, you should manage as long as you don’t push yourself too hard. And you’re not thinking of calling training ‘daily life,’ are you?”
The mage babbled on as he changed the gauze, and Barsabe gave a bitter smile without replying. So many comrades, including Bonita, had died. This wasn’t the time for her to be lying here—it was pathetic.
“Oh, and Agent Barsabe, do you feel any discomfort when you speak?”
“No, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
He had been worried that the doll manipulators from Toorun might have tampered with the inside of her cheek, but it seemed to have healed quickly.
The mage handed her clean clothes and stood up.
“Rest a bit, and if you can, try walking. I’ll bring the doctor.”
“Thank you.”
Left alone in the tent, Barsabe slowly changed her clothes. Her head still felt like it was about to explode, but with no part of her limbs unscathed, this level of pain was to be expected.
When the mage didn’t return after a long wait, she gathered her strength and carefully stood up.
Swish.
Since it was her first time inside Agiar, she furrowed her brow and looked around. In the distance, she could see the collapsed castle walls.
So that chaos happened three days ago… she thought to herself. Just as she was about to look for the mage, a sudden voice echoed in her mind.
—I see you.
The chilling sensation made her spin around reflexively, only to find a fellow palace guard standing there with a welcoming smile.
“Barsabe, you’re awake? You look well.”
“Ah, yes. Sorry for lying down so long.”
“Don’t say that. But why are you out here? Not resting more?”
Was that what the voice meant? Had she mistaken a greeting for a hallucination because of her weak state? Barsabe smiled awkwardly and shook her head.
“The mage hasn’t come back yet.”
“He was called away in a hurry earlier. Must be some problem inside the castle.”
“What kind of problem?”
“No idea. Something happened during Rutherford’s interrogation. I didn’t hear the details. You should lie down. I’m going in too.”
Barsabe hesitated for a moment, then turned as if to follow. If these were the remaining rebels, they were surely the ones who had toyed with her with their swords. She wanted to see their end with her own eyes.
“Why is she turning this way?”
“Come with me.”
“What? She just woke up.”
“The ones being executed are the magic swordsmen, right? I owe them a lot. If I don’t repay before they die, I’ll be sick at heart and never pick up a sword again.”
So just shut up and come get the news.
Though her body was battered everywhere, Barsabe remained resolute. Her companion opened his mouth to scold her but thought better of it, recalling her stubbornness. He grabbed the reins of a horse resting in the stable and warned her.
“Just watch, okay? Don’t overdo it, please.”
Rustle.
The vast open space outside was eerily silent, the still air making the quiet feel heavier. The only sounds were the ragged breaths of those kneeling and the rustling of papers as Ian flipped through them.
The Bariel soldiers kept their spears tense, while Rutherford bowed his head slightly, smiling. He seemed genuinely surprised by his fate, yet still clung to a faint, futile hope.
“There’s so much to ask that finding a starting point is the real challenge. Rutherford, did you know about the Laromedia habitat beneath the cliff?”
At Ian’s question, Katimako picked up a pen.
They had investigated the area below the cliff but found nothing significant. Only a cautious opinion that the Laromedia’s habitat was relatively new.
“…The god told me.”
“The Under-God?”
Could the Under-God beneath the rift really be giving orders to Rutherford, who was standing on Gaia? Was that even possible?
It was already accepted that the Under-God sought to expand its influence on Gaia by creating the rift. That meant the rift was a necessary conduit.
Ian furrowed his brow, resting his chin on his hand.
“Question is, Rutherford, how exactly are you connected to the Under-God?”
“…The Under-God is a new religion in Toorun.”
“You know well. The ‘god’ you worship and follow is exactly that.”
Rutherford bit his lower lip and glared at Ian, but Ian showed no reaction, lost in thought.
How could the Under-God give direct orders to Rutherford? If that was possible, could it influence others as well?
Was it something only Rutherford could do, or did the Under-God possess unique powers?
“Have you always had contact with Toorun?”
“…”
“Considering the support from the doll manipulators and the place you used as a base ten years ago—before you started moving directly—it’s identified as Toorun. Explain in detail how you made contact and what you did while there.”
Ian’s calm questioning was met with silence from Rutherford and the others.
After a few seconds, Ian motioned to the soldiers. Their blades flew not at Rutherford, but at the magic swordsmen beside him.
Shing!
“Ahhh!”
“You can speak, but why no answers? That’s what I want to know. If Rutherford won’t answer, you’ll bleed instead. If you want, keep silent. I’ll break it with your screams.”
“T-Toorun… I met Rutherford for the first time there!”
As a soldier raised his sword again, one of the magic swordsmen, unable to hide his fear, shouted out.
“I heard the leader of the target group was recruiting guards, so I went. That was him. I joined near the end, so I don’t know much about the process, but by then, many powerful people had already gathered.”
“Was the price for turning Bariel into enemies and throwing the world into chaos just money?”
Ian asked disdainfully, and the man’s eyes wavered.
“At first, yes. At the very beginning—yes, that’s how it was.”
“And later?”
“Later—”
He faltered, rambling incoherently. Jarrett, who had been watching, approached Ian and whispered.
“It’s a kind of brainwashing, isn’t it? Like what I experienced in the northern monster zone. The Under-God may have engraved false loyalty in their hearts. Otherwise, it makes no sense.”
“I agree. Even if Rutherford had the power to create Idgals, it would be foolish to turn Bariel against us on that alone.”
At the time, Idgals were a means to control mages and magic swordsmen. They were powerful enough to completely neutralize those with magical abilities, but fear alone couldn’t buy such extreme loyalty.
Then…
“Was there a rift in Toorun? Since he heard the Under-God’s voice, it seems Rutherford himself must be connected to it.”
“Ian Verosion, is it?”
After a long silence, Rutherford finally spoke.
“From the future Bariel, I am the one who carries the name Verosion.”
“That’s right.”
Rutherford chuckled, shifting in his seat.
“He’s finally lost it.” Everyone frowned and watched him closely. Ian lifted his chin slightly, as if daring him to say whatever he wanted.
“How can someone like that be here? Does the future Bariel no longer need the name Verosion? If so, that’s wonderful news, and I can’t help but laugh.”
Whatever his reason for being here, the fact itself was proof that Bariel was in trouble. Either the future Bariel no longer needs an emperor, or the current Bariel desperately needs Ian’s help.
Rutherford let his long hair fall and muttered,
“You know, Ian, you and I are very much alike.”
Having transferred souls, creating Idgals, being connected to a godlike entity, having traveled the abyss—all of it.
Unlike Ian’s calm gaze, those around him reacted immediately.
“Disrespectful words demand a price, Ian. Cut off your finger.”
“Eek!”
The ones who screamed were Rutherford’s magic swordsmen.
But Ian, instead of being rattled, found a clue in their provocation.
‘Just as I, Ian the illegitimate, was able to create Idgal by entering Idgal’s body, so too can Bandor create Idgal by entering Rutherford’s body.’
That meant Rutherford himself was a creation of the underground god.
“When I met you, Ian the illegitimate, in Bratz, you clearly couldn’t create Idgal easily. But with your help, you overcame that.”
The god’s intention to suppress monsters and seal the rift perfectly aligned with the underground god’s plan to subdue the magicians and bring down Bariel.
Because of that, Ian the illegitimate gave Idgal to Rutherford—just as he had pierced through Beric’s bloodline.
‘But the god believed it was right for Ian the illegitimate to remain in Bratz. So, to buy time, a contract was made with the target, Rutherford. Without that, Ian would have been kidnapped and shackled by Rutherford.’
“…Did I say I would go to the imperial palace? I said I wanted to live with my mother for now, and if necessary, I’d even make a contract through magic to open a path of loyalty to the palace. That’s what I said.”
It wasn’t a question expecting an answer. After all, Ian had possessed the right body at the right time to survive, entered the palace at the right time to take down Arsen, and met Rutherford again at the right time to descend into the abyss.
No doubt, all the events to come would be seen in history as happening at the right time.
“So that was the contract’s terms.”
Ian nodded knowingly and passed over the documents.
“Next, the question concerns Damon, king of Burgos.”