Chapter 764: A Name

“Complete devastation, just as they said.”

With a sharp hiss, Captain Hale perched on a pile of rubble, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

Around the royal palace, there wasn’t a single building left standing. Everything was shattered, smashed, and broken into unrecognizable fragments.

And what about the areas a little farther away? Not much better.

“There’s still smoke rising over there.”

“Yeah. Even with the rain, the fires haven’t been put out yet.”

The fires the Imperial Army set to cleanse the city had reduced everything to ashes.

The mages sat in a row, dazed, staring blankly ahead. Even as Imperial soldiers busied themselves moving the wounded and cleaning up, none of the mages made a move. Truth be told, they simply didn’t have the strength.

“…It still doesn’t feel real.”

That the war was over. That the shadow of the gods had vanished from Gaia.

They had thought this cycle would never end, but the sky above was so blue, so full of hope. If not for the shattered scene before them, they might have thought it was all a dream.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

And then there were the comrades who weren’t here anymore.

The mages’ eyes grew hollow. The absence of their friends hadn’t sunk in. They could still hear the nagging voices—“Stop standing around and move!”—echoing among the chaotic soldiers. Now, those voices were silenced forever.

Hale tightened his lips and flicked the ash from his cigarette.

“You feeling alright?”

“Me? I’m fine.”

Though Hale’s answer was calm, the mages knew it was a white lie. His hand holding the cigarette trembled slightly.

Besides, if he really were fine, he wouldn’t be sitting here. He’d be out helping the soldiers clear the debris. He was exhausted. Truly.

“And Ian?”

“Captain Akorella’s tending to him. She said once Ian’s better, it’ll be your turn, Captain Hale.”

“You two go ahead. I’m fine.”

“I’m fine too. But Akorella’s not herself right now… it’s a bit… awkward.”

“So because it’s awkward, you want me to go first?”

Hale and the mages chuckled softly, exchanging light-hearted banter.

It felt like spring had come to a ruined world. Everything around them was a mess, but just being alive was enough to bring a faint smile. A hollow smile, if you looked closely.

“But the world changes so fast.”

“How so?”

“Look over there—Beric.”

Far off, Beric was giving orders to the troops. Who would’ve thought the little runt would end up leading the squad?

The mages rested their chins on their hands, shaking their heads. The palace was in ruins, yet they found themselves worrying about the Imperial Guard.

“What’re you looking at?”

Beric caught their gaze and turned his head. Compared to the mages, the magic swordsmen seemed less injured and less drained, moving without issue. When Beric looked back, the mages clapped and teased him.

“Oh, look at that—acting like a real captain. Look at that stiff neck!”

“Yeah, Beric the Great!”

“Is he officially ranked above us now?”

“Uh… not quite.”

“But you have to admit, the guy’s tough as nails. Still going strong.”

Beric ground his teeth. Busy and stressed as he was, here were these so-called mages just sitting around, talking nonsense.

“Hey, you empty shells, still hanging in there?”

“Feels like dying, you little punk.”

“When you get your strength back, go find Varsabe, will you?”

“Varsabe? Wasn’t he—?”

Just then, a guard called out to Beric from afar. Beric waved he’d be right there and turned back to the mages.

“Since we entered the palace, no contact. He’s probably not dead, but with everything in chaos, finding him won’t be easy.”

“Got it. Once I recharge a bit more, I’ll start looking.”

“Thanks.”

“Whoa…”

“What was that just now?”

“Thanks. Unbelievable.”

The mages rubbed their goosebumps-covered arms, stunned. Yet Beric remained unshaken. Normally, he’d have exploded with curses, but this time he just shot them a glare and turned away. The mages’ skin prickled.

But soon, they understood why.

“He’s trying to fill Captain Jaret’s place.”

No one said it aloud, but they all thought the same. The mages sighed deeply, watching Beric disappear into the distance.

“Would we have done the same… if Ian hadn’t been here?”

They shifted their feet quietly, silence settling over them. They had won, but a sadness lingered that no victory could soothe. That was war.

Some mages couldn’t hold back and wiped their eyes with their sleeves.

“Don’t cry. Everyone’s watching.”

Captain Hale’s low voice comforted them as cigarette smoke drifted in the air.

The mages lifted their heads. Soldiers cleared debris and carried the wounded. When their eyes met the mages’, they smiled brightly—joyful to be alive, proud to be Imperial citizens.

“Mages, are you alright?”

“Yes, but we’re a bit drained. We’ll rest a moment, then help out. Please bear with us a little longer.”

“Oh, nonsense. You’ve done amazing work!”

“Yes, yes, just sit tight. From here on, it’s our turn.”

“Alright! Can you handle it?”

“Yeah. Heh heh. Finally some good company. A veteran, huh? That’s the best title I’ve earned in my life.”

“And next?”

“Probably ‘lame’.”

The mages sniffled, pretending to focus ahead. Dust filled the air, but the soldiers kept chatting, sharing the joy of peace.

Then—

“Found it!”

A soldier searching the rubble called out in surprise. Could it be Varsabe? The mages stiffened, ready to rise, but held back.

“It’s the body of King Toorun!”

“Clear the way.”

Minister Tweller pushed through the soldiers and approached the child’s body. White hair, red eyes—undeniably Kumasha.

Jin confirmed the king’s death and hesitated. If possible, he wanted to display the body in the city center to announce the defeat, but—

“Your Majesty, perhaps we should burn it.”

There was nowhere suitable to display it, and no citizens left to fear or despair. Other cities might be different, but the capital was utterly destroyed.

“Agreed. Cut off the hair and burn the body with the ruins.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Leaving the body intact risked deification, giving the shadow god a foothold. They would leave no trace.

At Tweller’s nod, soldiers lifted the child’s body and tossed it onto a distant pile of corpses. More bodies piled on top, burying the boy quickly.

“Your Majesty.”

“Everyone, remain seated.”

The emperor’s gaze returned to the seated mages. He felt pity for them. While regular wounds could be treated by medics, magical exhaustion was something only they could heal. They would have to rest and recover on their own for now.

“How are your injuries?”

“No major wounds.”

“Thank goodness.”

“And Your Majesty?”

“I’m fine, thanks to all of you. What about Lord Ian?”

“Captain Akorella is nursing him inside. It’s taking some time. Ian’s injuries don’t look severe externally. Shall I announce your presence?”

Jin nodded, and a mage led him behind the rubble to a makeshift tent. It was barely a tent—just some cloth hung to block the view.

“Ian, Captain Akorella, the Emperor is here.”

“Bring him in.”

Ian’s voice was clear and steady as ever.

Jin felt a deep relief as he parted the cloth and stepped inside.

---

“Now, please try this.”

“Ah—”

“I’m going to cover your ears. Let me know if you hear ringing or feel anything unusual. How do you feel?”

“No problem.”

Akorella examined Ian with a serious expression. A military doctor had already checked him and found no major issues. Miraculously, his internal injuries were mild—a blessing from Bariel, she said.

Still, Akorella didn’t stop inspecting him.

“How long are you going to keep this up?”

Ian asked, a hint of worry in his eyes. She pouted, clearly displeased.

‘You used the acceleration spell.’

A magic that draws power from the future. He’d summoned five clones and cast countless high-level enhancement spells, filling the sky.

Even with Ian’s limitless magic and extraordinary recovery, it was strange he looked so fine.

“Akorella?”

“Be honest. Is there any discomfort?”

“No.”

“Liar! If you keep this up, I’m really going to lose it.”

“Really. Akorella, do you want me to be sick or something?”

“Is that even a question?”

“Just kidding.”

Ian chuckled softly and tugged on Akorella’s sleeve, as if to calm her down.

“Let’s just say the gods helped us. The underground god is gone, and here I am, standing before you.”

“…Unrecognized injuries are the most dangerous. No matter how much you say the gods intervened, this isn’t something that should end like this. Do you think I don’t know you, Ian?”

They’d been through countless battles, seen so many fall along the way. That was a problem in itself, but this was another. Akorella murmured as she poured the last of her magic into Ian.

“You’ll collapse if you keep this up. Have you ever seen a cracked porcelain vase? It looks fine on the outside, but even the slightest shock can shatter it beyond repair. It’s better to recognize and treat it before that happens—”

At that moment, footsteps approached from beyond the curtain.

“Ian. Captain Akorella. His Majesty the Emperor has arrived.”

“Show him in.”

Ian nodded as if it was perfect timing, and Akorella scratched her head reluctantly, rising. There was no room for her to interrupt their conversation. She bowed to Jin and stepped outside the tent.

Jin approached Ian with a slightly brighter tone.

“Sir Ian, how do you feel?”

“Surprisingly calm. Though my magic has faded.”

“That’s nothing. It will naturally return with time. I’m just grateful you weren’t seriously hurt.”

Jin grasped Ian’s hand firmly, warmth seeping through. The rain from the battle against the shadows felt like a distant illusion. Jin’s hair was still damp, but the warmth in their joined hands was vivid.

“Leave the cleanup to the Imperial Army and focus on your recovery. Of course, your help will always be needed.”

“Your Majesty.”

“Hmm?”

Ian hesitated, recalling Philia from a dream, and cautiously addressed Jin. But the words wouldn’t come easily.

The Emperor looked at Ian with kind, gentle eyes, waiting patiently. Ian smiled faintly and asked,

“Do you remember my name?”

“My name?”

Jin gave a puzzled smile at the sudden question.

“Yes, just in case.”

“Countless names, but if it’s you asking, there must be a reason.”

Is it really that difficult? Jin met Ian’s gaze and said,

“Ian Hielo.”

“…”

“You are the proud Minister of Magic of the Empire.”

Ian waited a moment, just in case Jin would add the name ‘Verosion.’ But Jin said no more.

A brief silence. Jin thought Ian’s lips trembled slightly.

“Sir Ian?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Ian shook his head and smiled faintly.

“Yes. That is my name.”

It was the usual Ian, but Jin hesitated for a moment, sensing something subtle.

Then, hearing Xiaoshi’s call from outside, Jin turned.

“Your Majesty, Minister Tweller has a report.”

“Ah, very well. Let’s go.”

Jin patted Ian’s shoulder, urging him to rest completely.

“Sir Ian. We’ll see each other later.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I’ll recover quickly and return.”

“Even if you say so.”

The rustle of the curtain as Jin stepped out left Ian alone.

Ian sat quietly for a long while, feeling a sharp ache near his heart, coughing lightly.

“…”

He cupped the blood that dripped down in his hands. Watching it quietly, he wiped it away with cloth and water.

When Akorella returned, Ian was already asleep, as if nothing had happened—his face calm and peaceful.