Episode 694

Night had fallen. One by one, the wizards who had been sound asleep began to stir awake.

Outside the window, a pale white moon hung in the sky. It was hard to tell whether a day had passed—or maybe two. The wizards rubbed their stiff backs and slowly got to their feet.

“Yawn. Slept well.”

“What time is it?”

“More than the hour, I’m wondering how many days have passed.”

“Judging by my hunger, I’d say it’s been two days.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. If you say stuff like that after only sleeping a dozen hours, the captains won’t let you rest next time, saying it’s not cost-effective.”

Oh, that’s true. The wizards glanced around with puffy faces. Thankfully—and naturally—the chief wizards, including Lord Ian, were nowhere to be seen.

Rumble.

A stomach growled, signaling the others to slowly get up. They were starving. Maybe they should head down to the dining hall and scavenge something to eat?

Most of the palace lights were off, and the guards were barely keeping watch. Even they were nodding off, heads tilted back in drowsiness.

“Hey, don’t wander off. Tsk tsk.”

“Huh? Look over there.”

From across the lobby came the sound of footsteps. A figure crossed the room, bathed in the glow of golden hair that shone even in the dead of night. The wizards locked eyes.

“…That’s Lord Ian, right?”

“Yeah, it is. What’s he doing out at this hour?”

“Looks like he’s heading outside.”

Alone? The wizards stared intently at the door Ian had just passed through, then simultaneously crouched and descended the stairs.

At times like this, they truly felt the bond of comradeship—sharing hardships and joys together. No words were needed; they just understood each other.

“This is worrying. He’s not the type to go out alone.”

“Exactly. He should be resting beside His Majesty.”

“Could it be he’s planning to go far away?”

At someone’s suggestion, the wizards exchanged worried glances.

“There’s been so much bad news lately, and with his sensitive nature… his body might act before his heart does—”

“If you’re just going to spout nonsense, go back and get some more sleep.”

Despite the sharp retort, the wizards didn’t stop tailing Ian.

He glanced briefly at the exhausted soldiers dozing nearby and passed by them, soon stepping outside the castle gates. This was definitely strange. What should they do? Follow him or not?

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Ah!”

A familiar voice startled them as they peeked around a corner.

It was Beric. Like the wizards, he craned his neck to see what they were looking at.

“Huh? That’s Ian! Hey—”

“Shh! Quiet!”

The wizards quickly covered Beric’s mouth, blocking him. Just as their rest was precious to them, so was Ian’s solitude. Especially since he was always buried in work and surrounded by people, his alone time was rare and valuable.

“Are you crazy? Then go back and do your own thing.”

“No, but it’s just… leaving him alone like that feels risky.”

“Don’t you get it? Beric, you idiot. Don’t you understand how that feels? Disappointing.”

Beric scratched his ear in frustration. Suddenly, Ian lightly took flight and swiftly headed toward the city.

The wizards hurriedly pulled their robes over their heads and followed. Beric grabbed at their legs, struggling to keep up.

“Ugh! You’re heavy, man!”

“Fly quietly. You want Ian to catch us?”

“Damn it, I’m gonna drop you and kill you.”

“Hah. If you were gonna die over that, you’d be dead already.”

“I heard you got a junior too. How about growing up a bit?”

“Then what about you? Just following your boss around?”

…No comeback for that.

The wizards tightened their lips and kept a careful distance from Ian. Too close, and they’d be spotted; too far, and they’d lose him.

Where on earth was Ian headed? This wasn’t Bariel, and what business could he possibly have in the heart of Burgos, in Kalamath?

Thud.

“Is someone in charge here?”

Ian landed near the city’s waterworks wall and called over the guards. Half-awake, the patrol rushed over and saluted.

“W-what is it?”

“I am Ian Hiel, Minister of Magic. I want to check the condition of the sewage. Could you remove the boards covering it?”

“Ah, we can do that for a section. Will it be quick? The smell is terrible, and if we leave it open too long, the nearby residents will riot.”

“Of course.”

The longer the boards stayed off, the worse the stench became. For now, the river was covered with wooden planks to block it.

At the captain’s signal, the soldiers hurriedly moved aside a plank. Ian frowned and covered his nose with his sleeve.

“…It’s bad.”

“The soil near the riverbank is visibly damaged.”

“Enough. Cover it back up.”

The advance team sent to investigate the sewage hadn’t returned yet. With no roads and no news, it was frustrating.

Ian pondered for a moment. Ironically, the worse the damage in Burgos and Clifford, the more Bariel stood to gain—at least in the short term. With a common enemy in Tolrun, they could rally the support of Burgos’s people and the aid of Clifford.

“How are the nearby residents faring?”

“They can’t live near the river because of the smell, so they’re moving further inland. Most seem to be crowding into the city center.”

The more land that became dead and unusable, the higher the population density would be. That directly affected quality of life.

‘The haunted mother and daughter are going to have a headache.’

To overthrow the existing Burgos palace faction and seize power, public support was crucial. And now this disaster struck. Hopefully, they knew how to channel their anger into strength.

“Very well. Thank you all for your efforts.”

“Y-yes, sir!”

Thud!

Ian dismissed the guards and headed into the city.

What a nightmare in the middle of the night. As the guards wiped cold sweat from their brows, something suddenly whooshed past.

“Gah!”

The wizards appeared—this time with a red-haired man dangling from one of them.

The guards stared after the vanished wizards for a long moment before relaxing and sinking down.

“Is Lord Ian really resting right now?”

“Instead of having a picnic by the river, why’s he out looking at stuff like that?”

“Where’s he off to this time?”

Beric, watching from above, tilted his head in confusion. Something about this felt oddly familiar.

Then—

“Oh, here!”

He remembered! The art gallery he had broken into through the window! The place where he’d drunkenly smashed a magic stone painting! Wasn’t it from there that the merchant had relayed news about Hiel’s situation?

Ian had come looking for that very gallery, hoping to find new clues.

Thump.

The wizards and Beric landed in the alley and peeked around the corner. Sure enough, Ian was staring oddly at the gallery’s firmly locked door.

“Ian’s working here, huh? Shouldn’t we head back now?”

“Wait.”

Just then, the owner of a tavern across the street came out carrying a bucket. He poured water onto the street and asked,

“What business do you have here at this hour?”

“Excuse me. Do you know how long this gallery has been locked? I heard it was investigated after the Bariel palace incident.”

“Oh, it’s been open all along since that mess. But maybe two days ago? The owner came by, tidied up a bit, and locked it up.”

“The owner?”

Ian frowned.

According to reports, the gallery had originally supplied paintings to the palace. But after Damon was taken hostage, it naturally fell into ruin and had been closed and abandoned for nearly ten years. No one even knew who owned it.

And yet, an owner?

“Why? Are you connected to the palace?”

“Yes, I am. I have some questions. Do you know where the owner is?”

“Inside, having a drink.”

The owner nodded toward the tavern.

“He said thanks for watching over the gallery all these years or something. I sell all kinds of drinks here. I’m just running my own business.”

Ian was lucky. Just as he was about to enter the tavern, the owner blocked his way with the empty bucket.

“Hey now!”

“…?”

Was there a problem? Ian looked at him in confusion. The owner twitched his bushy eyebrows and shook his head.

“No kids allowed after ten o’clock in my tavern.”

“…Is that a law in Burgos?”

“No, not in Burgos. Just in my place!”

“Some damn kids get drunk and cause trouble. It’s a pain and a mess, so I made that rule!” The owner’s tone was firm.

Ian stepped back and scanned the tavern. It was crowded, and he couldn’t tell who the gallery owner was.

“Can I prove I’m a palace official?”

“Sorry, that won’t work either. Recently, some palace magic swordsman or something drank a ton of booze and ran off! Since then, no ID accepted.”

Drank a ton and ran off? The wizards who overheard the conversation rolled their eyes and glanced at Beric.

“What the hell has that guy been up to?”

“Not on purpose. I was just distracted with the paintings back then.”

The tavern keeper cast a quick glance at Ian, who had a neat and refined appearance. Though he wore a black robe draped over his shoulders, the lining looked quite expensive, and above all, he carried an air of undeniable authority.

He didn’t seem like a low-ranking soldier… nor did he look like the type to cause trouble after a few drinks. Hmm, maybe I should make an exception here?

“Ahem. You got any money on you?”

“Money…?”

Ian rummaged through his pockets. He’d come out lightly and was completely broke. The tavern keeper let out an exasperated “Ha!” and grabbed his broom.

“Honestly, why are all those Bariel Palace folks so shameless? Trying to get into a tavern with no money? Huh?”

With a sharp sweep, he started sweeping the floor as if to hurry them along.

Ian had no choice but to turn back and ask, aiming right at the wizards hiding in the shadows of the alley.

“Hey, does anyone have any money on them?”

“…!”

“If not, Beric, you’re gonna have to cover this with your body.”

Damn it. How did he know? The wizards squeezed their eyes shut. If only they’d gone when Beric suggested it!

Everyone hesitated to show themselves, but Beric strode out confidently, waving his hand without a care.

“Seriously, how long have you known?”

“Does it matter?”

“Whoa! Y-you’re…!”

“Long time no see, tavern keeper. I didn’t mean to run off without paying last time. Sorry about that. No money on me, but how about some broom work?”

One by one, the wizards slowly emerged from the darkness. All of them looked disheveled, like they’d just been woken up. They smiled awkwardly and emptied their pockets.

“Ian, sir. We just woke up, so we only have some spare change.”

“Sorry about that…”

Clink!

But the “spare change” they offered were all gold coins. The tavern keeper’s head spun.

Wait a minute. What did they just call this boy?

“I-Ian?”

Ian Hielo, Minister of Magic for Bariel? Could it really be him?

Ian examined the gold coins the wizards had handed over, then showed them to the tavern keeper, as if asking for permission to come in.

“Yeah, yeah, come on in.”

It wasn’t the tavern keeper who led the way, but Beric. He was already holding the broom, acting like a staff member.

Creak.

Ian pushed open the waist-high wooden door and looked inside.

In one corner of the tavern, true to the claim that every kind of liquor was sold here, there was a man surrounded by an impressive stack of barrels.

“…?”

At the same time, a faint but familiar scent drifted from somewhere. Ian walked over and sat down opposite the man, greeting him.

“Pleasure to meet you. You’re the owner of Hwarang, right?”