Chapter 681

The power structure of Toorun was made up of three groups: the king, the bureaucrats who crowned the king, and the elemental sorcerer families.

The king solidified his authority by commanding the puppeteers, while the elemental sorcerers—who controlled the elements—handled practical affairs like national defense, firefighting, and public security.

Lastly, the bureaucrats. Though ordinary humans, they upheld ancient traditions by discovering and elevating the king.

“I just don’t get it,” Beric muttered, scratching his nose. He could understand the elemental sorcerers’ power, but how on earth could mere bureaucrats stand against the king?

Even the magic users—like Barsabe, the magic swordsman, and those close to the gods—had suffered greatly from a single misstep. So what kind of power did these humans have?

“…The temple. The Masantar Temple.”

The mages followed Darsi’s gaze and read the inscription aloud.

“…All faith in Toorun began with the Masantar Temple. Over time and generations, the object of worship shifted slightly, but the Masantar Temple has steadfastly held its place. End of inscription.”

“Ian, isn’t that the temple where Rutherford sent the Vargas royal bloodline?”

“Yes, that’s right. But it seems Lady Darsi knows of the temple too. I thought it was a secret place, not even on the map.”

“Someone as close to the king as Lady Darsi would surely know. What do you think, Ian?”

The Masantar Temple—the mysterious temple where Rutherford sent the half-blood descendants of King Damon, connected to their return. Ian looked down at Lady Darsi’s eyes, silently urging her to continue.

“Are you implying a connection between the temple and the bureaucrats, Lady Darsi?”

“Yes! Yes!” Ian caught on quickly, and Lady Darsi beamed with excitement.

“All bureaucrats come from the Masantar Temple, and those who come from there…”

The mages reading the text suddenly hesitated.

“They are freed from the puppeteers’ control by the blessing of the gods. End of inscription.”

“Ian, this sounds familiar.”

“Toorun, right? This is exactly like Bariel.”

The sorcerers who wielded transcendent power were like the mages, and the bureaucrats—who were effectively at the top of the power hierarchy—were said to be blessed by the temple, making them immune to the puppeteers’ control.

This closely resembled the blessing of the Bariel royal family, which ensured that no mental domination could affect those of royal blood.

“…So they’re underground gods.”

Shadows, by nature, imitate their targets. The underground gods had been carefully shaping Toorun in the image of the divine.

But why had they only realized this now?

Faith is what sustains a god. If Bariel is the center of the gods, then naturally, Toorun—the center of the underground gods—would imitate Bariel. Though imitation has its limits.

“That explains it. Kumasha is called king, but in truth, he isn’t. The bureaucrats from the temple, blessed by the gods, are the true pinnacle of Toorun.”

“Then why not just turn everyone except the bureaucrats into puppets? Even if they crown the king, they’re just humans. Killing them should be easy.”

Ian shook his head lightly at the mages’ questions.

“Toorun has long had a fixed system for selecting kings. What can someone do who enters the palace young, with no backing? Their term is also quite short, I hear.”

-They usually step down before reaching adulthood! Either they die or disappear.

Lady Darsi rolled her eyes, and Ian frowned. Being deposed before adulthood—his own life flashed before him.

“Anyway, it must be incredibly difficult for the king to shake the foundation and system. To overturn it, he’d have to pressure the bureaucrats through other means…”

-This king is different. Kumasha has puppeteered all the puppeteers and some of the elemental sorcerers. The bureaucrats seem unsettled by this unprecedented move, but so far, the balance remains delicate. The king is both useful and necessary for the country.

“If there are no limits to puppeteering, why not just puppet everyone? Even if the bureaucrats snort disdainfully, they wouldn’t last.”

“The underground gods won’t allow it.”

“The underground gods?”

“Those who lose their self to puppeteering become useful weapons, but that also means the power that makes up the underground gods disappears.”

Do puppets have faith? Does the underground god’s existence mean anything to them? No. It’s like cutting off one’s own flesh.

“The king wants to deal with the bureaucrats, but thanks to the temple’s blessing, puppeteering doesn’t work on them. And using force would be risky with the people watching.”

Though it seems the underground gods’ will reaches toward Bariel, Kumasha’s personal desire is also at play. If war breaks out with foreign powers, the bureaucrats could be given a justified death.

Inside Toorun, the situation was far more complicated than it appeared externally. Their internal affairs were undoubtedly tangled with their own concerns.

Rumble rumble!

“A massive stage for puppets is being built beneath the royal palace, covering the entire capital. Once completed, no foreign force will be able to approach the city. You know how puppeteers attack, right?”

“I know, damn well. I’ve seen it firsthand since Agiar.”

“Yeah, like the hole in Beric’s side here!”

“Hey, that’s not from a puppeteer.”

The mages laughed as they lifted Beric’s shirt to reveal the wound, and Beric awkwardly scratched beside it.

They had guessed that physical attacks required a ‘stage’ beyond just controlling the opponent, but to have one spanning the entire capital was astonishing.

“What about the Masantar Temple?”

“That’s beyond the king’s authority. I heard an elemental sorcerer recently went down there, but details are unknown. Whether it’s just a rumor or a move to expand influence toward the temple…”

“Do you know who that elemental sorcerer is?”

“No,” Lady Darsi rolled her eyes vigorously, clearly unsure.

At that moment, a mage who had interrogated Rutherford’s men stepped forward.

“Still, we can roughly estimate the temple’s location. On the map, it seems to be near the source of the river the locals call the ‘Breast of Vargas.’ The Masantar Temple is said to be around there, so it’s worth investigating.”

Other mages unfolded a map beside the wooden board to check. As expected, the exact location of Masantar wasn’t marked. Only a circle roughly indicated the area based on Rutherford’s men’s testimony.

‘Underground gods, temple, poison…’

Ian suspected the poison in the water wasn’t ordinary. As he fell silent, Lady Darsi grew more restless, rolling the wooden board around with greater urgency.

“They say the Toorun king is a girl with red eyes, white hair, and pale skin. When she lived in the slums, her name was… Amari.”

Amari, a child from the slums who used puppeteering. After being called by the underground gods, she was discovered by the bureaucrats and placed on the throne.

But she was clearly a different kind of ruler from previous kings. She lived in the same era as Ian Hielo, who was born as the vessel of the gods. To the underground gods, this girl was likely a tool, much like Ian.

“Good, good. Keep spilling everything, you eyeball hag. Did you come all the way here alone from Toorun? Looks like you don’t even have any kids with you.”

“How did you get puppeteered by the king? Is this some kind of bond between puppeteers, like how we mages have our own?”

“And who came up with the idea to use forbidden magic?”

As questions poured in, the eyeball rolled rapidly. Quick and precise answers were her only chance at survival.

“I used a painting.”

“…A painting? Rutherford was the first to use that, right?”

“Who knows? It’s hard to say who was first. There were rumors it was used in the Bariel palace long ago.”

Ten years ago, paintings made from mana stones that created new spaces were revolutionary. That’s why the former emperor, Jin’s father, used them as escape routes.

But over time, the technique spread, and now many can use it easily. Just off the top of my head, there’s the Balijuad guild that connected Hielo and Kalamath, and the underground of the Luswena palace.

“So there are painting portals in Hawan too.”

“Of course. The Balijuad guild fled from Hawan to Merelro. The palace must have some as well.”

“Ha, so the age of portal magic is ending. No romance left, damn it. Long-distance travel should come with tears, snot, and blood.”

Truly, this was the era of mana stone paintings.

The only saving grace was that paintings, unlike portals, had limitations. The destination was fixed, and depending on the mana stone type, the number of people and uses per trip were limited.

The one under Luswena was probably the palace’s last emergency escape route, made with the highest-grade mana stones. That’s why the soldiers from Clifford palace could cross over so easily.

“So, where exactly in Hawan did you come through? Don’t hold back—tell us the whole route. And did you puppet Bertie Erica too? Was that your doing?”

Positive! Positive! But in the end, negative! It was she herself who stole Erika’s identity, but behind it all stood the king of Toorun. The eyeball kept shifting.

“…Kill him. Kill the king?”

“Oh, no use blabbering now. Or should I say, no use rolling your eyeballs around?”

“Darcy, look at that—it’s still moving. See? From Toorun’s capital to Bariel, and from Bariel to Hawan…”

“Wait, hold on. You’re saying there’s a symbol like that in Bariel too?”

“Of course. But it’s a very low-grade magic stone.”

It was something that undermined the very meaning of the border. Ian thought that once the war was over, they’d have to come up with a way to regulate these magic stone symbols.

“Bariel, where exactly?”

Even if it was low-grade, it was best to cut off any connection to Toorun. Mrs. Darcy rolled across the letter board and gave the answer.

“Ka…renna?”

“Karenna? That name sounds familiar.”

“Beric. It’s a small town we stopped at briefly on our way from Bratz to the center. Karenna, Longin, Zailkuf. Those three places were hotspots for bandits—”

“Ah, the place where we met Hasha!”

Beric jumped up excitedly as if he’d just remembered. Most of the mages, however, had never heard of it and checked the location on the map.

“It’s not far from here. We can get there within a week by carriage. If we push, maybe even a day or two.”

“Shall we wrap this up?”

“Mrs. Darcy, where’s the symbol?”

Clatter, clatter!

“In the annex warehouse of the mayor’s mansion in Karenna, a still life of fruit…”

“Oh!”

Beric let out a loud exclamation, as if a memory had just clicked. Could it be the Karenna mayor he knew?

As Beric’s eyes sparkled with excitement, Ian raised a hand to signal him to wait.

“Not yet. We’ll decide after finishing our conversation with Mrs. Darcy, Beric.”

Burgos, Bariel, Hawan, and even Ruswena—the puppeteers sent from Toorun had infiltrated everywhere, like worms gnawing away in the dark.

Beric stood as if ready to rush out, but Ian looked up at him and added,

“It’ll be over soon, so hold on. Karenna is a key point the Bariel central army will pass through, so it’s best to clear it out beforehand. One more thing, Mrs. Darcy.”

Positive! Positive! Then those eyes stared straight at him. Ian voiced his suspicion.

“Has the mayor of Karenna been turned into a puppet too?”