Episode 696
Silask.
The moment Ian heard Beric’s words, something clicked inside him. Yes, that’s it. Where had he smelled it before? The red flower.
Before heading to the Great Desert, his mother had given him a potted plant—the only way to save Chief Winchen of the Winchen tribe. It was a clue hinting at Ian’s past connection with Rutherford as a bastard son, and a rare, almost mythical thing to find.
“Sniff, sniff sniff… Yeah, that’s definitely it.”
The more Beric smelled it, the more certain he became. The imprint of Silask was unmistakably clear.
No wonder—the final battle with Rutherford had taken place right in Laromedia’s sanctuary. The faintly sweet scent of Silask lingered in his memory, unforgettable.
“Beric, what nonsense are you spouting now?”
“That thing we struggled so hard over. Hmm.”
“Are you drunk? You only had a couple of drinks.”
“If you’re going to pass out, do it quietly. Waste of money.”
The source of the scent was definitely Taoma. Ian filled his cup and casually asked.
“Taoma, I detect the scent of Silask on you.”
“Oh? You know Silask?”
Taoma didn’t deny it. He sniffed his sleeve and arm, chuckling.
“It’s something I’ve been handling recently. The scent is strong and lingers. Well, it’s convenient—I don’t even have to wash.”
“Ugh, did I just hear that right?”
“Hey, Taoma, let’s keep the hygiene talk to a minimum while we’re enjoying the food.”
Ian glanced at his reflection in the window and naturally thought of Roel. The one who would succeed Chief Winchen as leader of the tribe, and someday share the same fate as her child.
Winchen had died as a member of the Silask tribe, but Roel wouldn’t. As long as Silask thrived, they could save the child from suffering anytime.
“Interested, are you?”
Taoma’s drunken eyes narrowed deeper than ever. His instincts had caught the other’s desire.
The more someone wants something, the more its value skyrockets. Ian’s gaze when talking about magical glyphs was different from when he spoke of Silask—so distinct that even a drunk Taoma could tell.
“Yes. I am.”
Ian realized his true intentions had been seen through. So he admitted it willingly. Taoma clearly held the upper hand in Silask dealings, and provoking him now would only complicate negotiations.
“You’re straightforward, I like that.”
“But there’s one thing you should know. Silask is my personal interest, but the fairies of Laromedia who cultivate it are a matter of national concern.”
“I don’t follow. Am I too drunk?”
Laromedia—the fairies who cast illusions.
They were one of the ‘ingredients’ used in Tolrun’s puppetry, and Silask was found in their colonies. Their fates were inseparable.
Moreover, since Laromedia was closely tied to Tolrun, Bariel naturally kept a close watch. In other words—
“Don’t try to make a quick buck off this, got it? Hmph.”
Taoma scratched his nose and set down his cup. His brain was swimming in alcohol, but Ian’s warning was crystal clear.
“Silask trade mostly happens in the southern countries. You might not know, but fairy habitats are rare and little is known about them. Plus, they’re dangerous creatures, so the price is steep.”
Understanding a fairy’s mind was nearly impossible. They flitted between here and there in an instant, capricious and unpredictable, bestowing curses and blessings unexpectedly. Sometimes they seemed brainless, other times transcendent—mysterious beyond explanation.
“Don’t worry about the price.”
Ian smiled and answered immediately. Who else but Ian would talk about price? As Minister of Magic and master of Hielo, price was just a number to him. More importantly, it was a matter tied to Bariel’s future. Whatever the cost, it was worth it.
The wizards nearby nodded enthusiastically.
“Exactly! Don’t even mention ‘expensive’ in front of Ian. You know how rich he is, right?”
“Look at Beric here—he eats like a bottomless pit. Even skilled wizards struggle to keep up. The palace chefs have a hard time!”
“No, no, you don’t have to go all the way to Ian. We can handle it ourselves. How much do you need? Just say the word.”
“Wait, wait, what about the gold coins from earlier…”
“Owner! Keep the change!”
“Forget it, keep it! Don’t be stingy with small change!”
They’d been teasing Beric for being drunk, but the wizards themselves seemed half out of their minds.
Well, even after a good night’s sleep, Ian hadn’t fully recovered his strength, and he hadn’t eaten. No matter how powerful a wizard, they’re still human. No one stands a chance against alcohol.
“So, you only want Silask?”
“Information on Laromedia would be even better. Like I said, it’s a national matter.”
“Well, the ones living here or there are probably the same. Got it. I’ll bring some Silask and info back.”
Since plants can be cultivated endlessly, the initial trade is usually the most expensive. Taoma advised Ian to prepare himself, but Ian just waved it off.
“Today’s a lucky day. Meeting a noble like Taoma.”
“Since you call me a noble, I have to say the same. Haha! It was a quiet drinking session, but now it’s lively and fun—I like it.”
Roel would live. Though wearing Winchen’s clothes, she would walk a different path. Ian was satisfied with that alone. It felt like he could protect his last remaining family.
“By the way, I heard a country in the East has been supplying goods to Hawan. Is that true?”
Beric, who had been munching on snacks, froze at Taoma’s question. The wizards did too. They all pictured the fire muskets in their minds.
The mood turned awkward, and Taoma gave an embarrassed laugh.
“That’s what the rumors say, but there’s no way to confirm.”
To verify that, you’d have to contact Hawan’s leadership or be in the middle of the bloody Ruswena battlefield. Not something a merchant could handle.
Beric swallowed and asked again.
“Why? Planning to make moves with the East too?”
“Having all routes open is good, but it won’t be easy. I hear the East is a strange place.”
“Strange how?”
“Hmm.”
Should he tell or not? In a world where information is money, Taoma hesitated. Beric, losing patience, shouted to the owner.
“Bring the strongest, most expensive liquor here!”
“The strongest?”
“Yes. Something so strong you can’t tell if it’s liquor or poison! One sip and you’ll curse the owner!”
The owner dashed to the storage. Perfect! Ian had been wondering how to clear some stock, and now they were asking for it.
Soon, the owner returned with a heavy jar and set it beside the table.
Boom!
“Just a warning—if you die drinking this, it’s not our fault.”
“Don’t worry. You know who we are.”
Clang! Beric raised his fist, and the wizards followed, crossing their fists in solidarity.
They were elite warriors who’d survived gut wounds, drained all their magic, faced forbidden wizards, and battled huge, ferocious monsters. A little liquor? No problem.
“Let’s take turns drinking. Deal?”
“Deal!”
Taoma swept the table clean, dipped an empty cup deep into the jar, and gulped it down. No snacks—just a serious showdown.
Beric grinned and followed suit.
“Ugh! Damn it, owner! What kind of liquor is this… Gah!”
“Yeah, it’s pretty strong.”
“Keep going?”
“Of course!”
Taoma and Beric kept pouring and drinking. The wizards watched with their chins in their hands, and Ian folded his arms, waiting quietly. The strong smell meant the winner would be decided soon.
“Ugh!”
Bang! On the seventh cup, Beric finally slammed his head on the table. Taoma wobbled in his seat, laughing hoarsely.
“You dared challenge me? Serves you right!”
“Next up, me!”
“Oh?”
Then the wizards stepped forward. With five of them, maybe they could win. Besides, Taoma was already quite drunk. Ian, I’ll give my all to secure favorable terms in this deal.
The wizards shouted, fired up.
“Let’s go!”
“Let’s gooo!”
Boom!
But sometimes, no matter how fierce the will, the body just can’t keep up. This was one of those times. The wizards toppled like dominoes, banging their heads on the table.
“Hah, hahaha. These guys, at least they know how to drink. Ouch, my head. It’s been a while since I had this much fun. Hmm.”
Ian stared at the wizards in disbelief, then turned to Taoma. He, too, was barely holding himself upright, his speech slurred and unsteady. With his eyes half-open, he asked Ian,
“Last round, Minister? Will you join me?”
“What?”
After such a glorious death up front, it wouldn’t be right to refuse a drink back here. It’s a shame we can’t back out now that it’s one-on-one…
Ian slid his glass forward.
“Let’s drink.”
“Heh, heh, alright. Sounds good.”
Taoma staggered as he downed a full cup. Ian followed suit, dipping his cup deep and draining it in one gulp.
The hot, bitter burn slid down his throat. But when he set the glass down, Ian showed no sign of faltering.
“One more!”
Bang!
“Ugh, l-let’s go.”
Bang!
“Ugh…ugh…”
Taoma’s vision blurred. He knew that if he let his guard down even a little now, he’d black out for sure.
But he had no choice. He’d reached his limit. His body began to lean sideways, and with a loud crash, Taoma’s consciousness faded into darkness.
“…”
Ian let out a breath and glanced over his fallen comrades before calling the innkeeper.
“Some paper, a pen, and ink, please.”
“Ah, just a moment.”
The innkeeper hurried off, then returned with the supplies. Ian carefully wrote something down, even pressing Taoma’s fingerprint onto the paper with great care.
The innkeeper peered into the now-empty jar and pinched his nose. Ian was something else—most heavy drinkers would be out cold after just a couple of drinks.
Creak.
“Well drunk.”
“Ah, what about your companions?”
“I’ll send someone for them. Just wait a bit.”
With that, Ian abruptly stepped outside. The innkeeper, flustered, looked around the empty shop, then, with a resigned sigh, turned off all the lights. He’d made a good haul today—time to close up and clean tomorrow.
“Ugh!”
Taoma gasped harshly as he sat up. The tavern was empty—he was alone. His head felt like it was about to split open, and his insides twisted in agony. He felt like he might go mad.
…What happened yesterday? Oh, right, I met with the Minister of Magic to discuss a deal…
“Ugh…ugh…”
Taoma vomited into the empty jar beside him, rubbing his face. A sheet of paper fluttered from the table and landed next to him.
“What…what is this?”
—Taoma promises to sell a single branch of Silask for one gold coin and swears to share all information about Laromedia with the Imperial Palace without omission. Within three days, he will discuss the details of the magic stone ledger with the Bariel Imperial Palace. Failure to comply will result in the death penalty.