Chapter 767
“Excuse me.”
“Oh? Corporal Barsabe?”
As soon as Barsabe made her presence known, she pulled back the cloth covering her arm.
Akorella, who was in the middle of giving an injection, froze in surprise. The mage beside her fussed, telling her to focus—probably some kind of magical amplifier.
“Captain! Pay attention and do it right!”
“Turning your head won’t make the needle move—oh? It actually did.”
“Caaaaptain!”
“Don’t throw a tantrum. It’s not because your beard’s getting scruffy.”
Akorella finished the injection hastily and turned to greet Barsabe. She’d heard that Barsabe had been found beneath the rubble, but the wound on her left arm looked severe—something even Akorella couldn’t fix easily. She rummaged through the scattered supplies and found a fresh amplifier.
“Are you alright? Let me give you a shot. When the supply wagon couldn’t get inside the castle, I thought we were done for. But maybe this is what they call a blessing in disguise. I never expected the whole area to be reduced to ashes.”
“And Minister Ian?”
“Ian? You mean Ian?”
Akorella looked at her with a puzzled expression. There was something urgent and serious about her demeanor. Akorella shook her head and clicked her tongue, signaling her not to worry.
“What is it? You still seem like something’s unsettled.”
“I want to see Minister Ian.”
“Yes, you can see him. But not right now.”
“Why not?”
“Why? Well…”
Akorella raised an eyebrow as if the question was obvious. What Ian needed most right now was absolute rest. The aftereffects of the destructive magic had shattered his body to pieces.
Ian insisted he was fine, but that only made things more worrisome. As both a mage and a scientist, Akorella knew how impossible it was for his body to endure such trauma.
“No one is allowed to disturb Minister Ian’s rest until he wakes up on his own. I’m sorry, but not even His Majesty the Emperor can come in.”
The Emperor? Don’t be ridiculous. Not even if the underground god crawled out again. Akorella was firm. She would never lift the soundproofing magic set around Ian’s bedside.
The captain’s sharp tone made the mages inch closer, chuckling as if trying to lighten the mood.
“Come on, don’t be so harsh, Captain.”
“Yes, Corporal Barsabe wouldn’t just want to see Minister Ian for fun. There must be a reason.”
“What’s going on? If it’s magic-related, we can help. We’re all getting small doses of the amplifier.”
Barsabe hesitated for a moment. Had they lost their memories of ‘Verosion’ too? If so, was it right to spread rumors recklessly?
When Barsabe fell silent, Akorella crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.
“Everyone…”
After a long pause, Barsabe finally spoke, her eyes cautious yet resolute.
“Do you remember the Masantar Temple?”
“Huh? Where’s that?”
“The Masantar Temple.”
“Oh, Masantar. Yes, yes, I remember. How could I forget? It wasn’t that long ago. But why?”
The mages exchanged confused looks, clearly unable to guess Barsabe’s intention.
“Then do you remember what you saw there?”
“Uh…”
If Beric’s report was accurate, they had definitely seen ‘Ian Verosion’ in the underground chamber of the Masantar Temple.
“That place was an abyss, and many things happened because of it.”
They didn’t know the details, but the mages had witnessed Ian’s true form twice.
“Well…”
But the mages couldn’t answer right away. Their faces showed discomfort—they realized their memories were fragmented.
Like something shrouded in mist—faint, elusive, and so uncertain that they even doubted if it had truly existed.
“Monsters. We fought countless monsters. All those underground god’s minions, like Deputy Rajoo, swarmed us.”
“Yeah, that’s right. It was hell back then.”
“We kept the communication magic going, afraid of falling into the abyss.”
“Hmm. And…”
What else was there? Something else seemed to be missing.
The mages groaned as they tried to recall.
“…A strange magic department annex.”
At that moment, Hale, who had been quietly observing, added something. Nakina and Tomi gasped as if they’d just realized something.
“That’s right! We saw that. But why did we see it?”
“I don’t know either. Only afterimages remain. Captain Hale, do you know?”
“No. I can only picture the shape.”
“This is strange. What is it?”
“What is it, Corporal Barsabe?”
The mages all turned sharply toward Barsabe. She clearly knew something about this strange phenomenon.
“…I was going to ask the same.”
But Barsabe took a step back. Since even the mages’ memories had been erased, she couldn’t just spill everything.
It might be Ian’s intention, and more importantly, the controversy over the royal bloodline was a heavy and sensitive matter. Spreading it recklessly could lead to unpredictable consequences.
“Ah! So you have some problematic parts too.”
“Hmph. That underground god bastard. What did it do as it died?”
“For something like that, it’s not so bad, right? It’s not like our memories were wiped clean. I think it’s just a simple aftereffect.”
“The shockwave was pretty strong.”
“True. The shadow god’s energy swept through like a storm.”
Could that really be it? Barsabe scratched her cheek, uncertain. Maybe because she was underground, the impact was less on her?
The mages whispered among themselves with serious expressions. They wanted to figure out what had been erased, but how could they? They wouldn’t even realize the moment it was wiped. All they could do was compare their memories and see if anything was missing.
Snap!
At that moment, Akorella clapped her hands quietly.
“Everyone, quiet! Be careful not to let any of this leak outside. When Minister Ian wakes up, we’ll discuss it again.”
“Yes, understood.”
“And Corporal Barsabe, you can’t see Minister Ian right now. If you want, you can wait here while receiving healing magic.”
“Ah.”
Barsabe nodded, looking at her damaged left arm. Then she glanced inside the cloth covering. Since the space was magically sealed, no presence could be felt.
“When do you think he’ll wake up?”
“He’s been sleeping for two days straight. He should wake up sometime soon.”
Akorella casually injected herself. After a moment, as her magic began to fill her, she reached out to Barsabe.
“Grab my hand. I’ll heal you.”
Blue moonlight filtered through the gaps in the tent.
Ian’s fingertips twitched, and slowly, his eyes opened. His whole body felt heavy, as if every tendon had been severed.
With a soft rustle, Ian shifted and carefully sat up. His head spun, and nausea rose from within. He struggled to get off the bed and slowly pulled back the cloth.
“……”
In the corner, mages were curled up asleep. Ian wondered why Akorella was lying on the table.
He studied them quietly, then spotted Barsabe sitting in a chair. She was alive.
There was no noise from outside. Except for the guards on watch, the entire imperial army was asleep. Ian poured water from the kettle.
“…Ah.”
At the sound, Barsabe’s eyes snapped open. It was a reflex. Whenever she wasn’t lying down, she was always on edge, never fully asleep. All the palace guards were like that. Except Beric.
“Minister Ian.”
“Shh.”
Ian put a finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet. The soft snores of the mages were oddly comforting.
Barsabe nodded and whispered softly.
“I’ve been waiting to tell you something.”
“Come in.”
Barsabe stepped inside with Ian’s permission. As the curtain was drawn, an astonishing silence settled over the room. Not a single sound escaped—no snoring, no rustling of wind, not even the faint chirp of insects.
Ian sat perched on the edge of the bed, looking up at her.
“What brings you here? If you’ve been waiting for me until now, it must be urgent.”
Should I have woken him? No, it’s fine.
Barsabe waved her hand dismissively.
“That was impossible. The Ministry of Magic was vehemently opposed.”
“I see. Unintentionally, I apologize. So?”
“…Minister Ian, something’s strange.”
“What exactly?”
Though the sound wouldn’t leak out thanks to the soundproofing magic, Barsabe lowered her voice even further, whispering with utmost secrecy.
“It seems everyone has forgotten that you came from the future.”
At those words, Ian slowly lifted his head. The half-drowsy look in his eyes vanished, replaced by a sharp, piercing gaze. The pale blue moonlight settled over his emerald eyes.
After a long silence, Ian smiled, as if surprised.
“Fate is truly a mystery, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t expect you to remember me.”
Not Jindo, not Beric, but Barsabe.
Barsabe couldn’t quite grasp the meaning behind Ian’s words. She simply thought, so it’s true—‘Verosion’ has been erased from the world, and the Minister knew this all along. But how such a thing could happen was beyond her understanding.
As she wrestled with her confusion, Ian asked,
“How did you find out?”
“There are rumors.”
“Rumors?”
“They say Ian is of royal blood. A woman who appeared from the water told them—most likely Vanusa.”
“On what grounds?”
Ian poured water into a fresh cup.
“During the battle, Vanusa was buried with me beneath the palace. But when I was rescued, she was already gone. The key detail is that the woman who emerged from the water is linked to Vanusa’s abilities.”
“Right. She couldn’t be a monster.”
After all, Bariel had defeated the underground god, so there was no way a monster would show up now.
“Besides, Vanusa knows your true identity. Everything fits together. But there’s one puzzling thing…”
Why she spread the rumor in the first place.
Barsabe hesitated briefly, and Ian’s gaze darkened.
“Barsabe, you may not know this, but during the battle, it was necessary to eliminate the cultists to keep the underground god in check.”
He didn’t add that it was close to a massacre. Such words didn’t suit Jin’s character.
But Barsabe was quick to catch the implication. Vanusa was simply someone who wanted to free Torlun from the king’s grasp and save it from the underground god. Yet, if in the process—while she was absent—the people of Torlun were slaughtered mercilessly—
“Ah.”
It could be part of a revenge plan. Vanusa knew ‘Verosion’ had been erased and was using that knowledge to sow chaos within Bariel.
As this thought took hold, Barsabe furrowed her brow. But how on earth did Vanusa find out? That ‘Verosion’ had been wiped from existence?
A soft sound.
At that moment, Ian handed Barsabe a cup of water, half-filled with clear liquid.
“Calm yourself first. This conversation might take a while.”
“Ah, thank you.”
Entranced, Barsabe accepted the cup. Ian’s smile as he encouraged her to drink somehow seemed tinged with loneliness. Was it just her imagination?
Suddenly, the blue moonlight felt cold—so cold that it seemed as if something within Minister Ian had fallen into a deep, wintry slumber.