Chapter 771

“…What do you think?”

Eirin’s mind grew tangled. She was deeply troubled, trying to grasp the intention behind the question.

Was he asking about the relationship between lord and vassal? The nuance seemed to hint at affection, but how could a mere soldier possibly view His Majesty the Emperor in such a way? And even if asked, how could she answer?

When no reply came, Ian tilted his head in confusion.

“Did you not hear me?”

“I—I’m not well-educated enough to understand your meaning, Minister. Could you please ask again?”

“There’s no need to overthink it. It’s exactly as I said. I asked if Eirin harbors feelings of love for His Majesty.”

Eirin’s mouth dropped open in shock—so wide that the mages watching from afar looked on in bewilderment. Ian hesitated briefly, wondering if he should close her mouth for her, but decided against it.

“Uh—”

“His Majesty holds you dear, Eirin. He hopes you feel the same.”

“Y-you must be joking, Minister.”

“Joking? Why would I?”

“I’m just a lowly soldier.”

Eirin’s face flushed deeply, as if she had dared to covet something forbidden.

In truth, it had been like this from the start. The moment Ian casually touched on the idea of ‘affection,’ she found herself unconsciously aware of the Emperor. It was all part of Ian’s deliberate plan, but seeing her so thoroughly flustered almost made him feel sorry for her.

“Eirin, your spirit in this war has been truly remarkable. Have confidence in yourself.”

Suddenly, Eirin noticed Ian was speaking to her with an unusual formality, as if addressing someone of great importance. Curious, she studied him closely.

“Minister Ian, why are you acting like this? Is something wrong?”

Ian smiled—a radiant, dazzling smile—but somehow, Eirin sensed a tinge of sadness beneath it.

“I’ll be returning to Bariel soon, and I want you to stay close to His Majesty when I’m gone. You’re trustworthy, and I’m certain you’ll be a great support to him.”

“There are already many reliable and capable people by His Majesty’s side, including you, Minister Ian.”

“That’s different.”

Me and Eirin.

Instead of continuing, Ian fell silent. After a long moment staring into the distance, he shook his head, though it was unclear what exactly he was denying.

“In any case, stay vigilant. If you need help, I’ll gladly assist—so don’t worry. Just keep that in mind.”

Fifteen days remained before returning to Bariel. Ian hoped that during that time, Jin and Eirin’s relationship would grow stronger.

‘Because one pillar is about to fall.’

If a new support could be established beforehand, Jin would feel at least a little more at ease.

Ian rose as if his business was done, and Eirin awkwardly saw him off, clutching her combat boots. He had dropped a bombshell and left so suddenly that she didn’t know how to react. Help? Help with what?

“Um, Minister Ian.”

Eirin instinctively grabbed his arm and spoke from the heart, words she had long held inside.

“Thank you.”

“…For what?”

“For everything. Your words made me feel like you’re about to leave, and I just had to say it now.”

Ian nodded at her honesty. This time, she couldn’t tell what he was agreeing to—was it the gratitude, or the idea that he might be leaving?

He chose his words carefully and spoke softly.

“I won’t be leaving of my own accord.”

“Y-yes, of course. After all, where would you go, Minister? I’m sorry—I was foolish to think otherwise.”

“Well then, I’ll take my leave.”

Ian gave a light bow and turned away, soon disappearing between the tents with the mages waiting for him.

Eirin fiddled with her combat boots, mulling over his words.

Clack, clack!

At that moment, pigeons flew in from somewhere, each with silk cloth tied to their legs. They were imperial dispatch birds sent by the Empire’s Defense Department to announce the end of the war to the palace, Burgos, and Clifford.

The white-winged birds spread their wings wide, crossing the sky of Torolun.

‘So the war really is over.’

Eirin sat down, tying her boots once more, while Tweller, watching from afar, turned his head away.

The war had ended, but the history of the palace continued to flow.

---

“The Masantar Shrine was sealed with Idgalo, but it requires ongoing maintenance. Idgalo will inevitably break. Prepare a report proposing management measures for Minister Tweller. Has the incident at the shrine already been shared?”

“……”

“And another thing. We need to investigate the returns of Rutherford and King Damon. It seems the chain was broken when Deputy Minister Raju, who led their returns, died, but it still feels suspicious. Any thoughts?”

“……”

“Ah, and Minister Tweller, please also look into King Damon’s bloodline. Though the slave market is gone, the records should still exist somewhere. Banusa might know. Isn’t that right?”

“……”

Ian asked these questions as he worked on the documents, but no answers came.

After a long silence, sensing something was off, Ian finally stopped writing and looked up. The mages stood in a line, glaring at him with scowls, clearly displeased.

“Ian.”

“…I made a mistake.”

“Yes, exactly!”

“Banusa is in charge of firefighting; it’s a different jurisdiction.”

“Not that! This is driving me crazy! What are you doing right now?”

“What do you mean?”

Working.

Ian and the mages stared at each other, baffled. Unlike the calm child, the adults twisted and squirmed in frustration.

“So why are you doing that right now?”

“If I don’t do it, who will? I’m the one who approves it.”

“Ian, that’s your bed over there!”

Thud!

The mages pointed at the bed. Fine, they could understand writing reports and meeting the Emperor right after waking up, but why sit back down at the desk afterward?

The mages tore at their hair, throwing a tantrum, but Ian ignored them and kept writing.

“Those who need rest can rest.”

“That’s exactly Ian for you!”

“Um, Minister Ian, may I ask something?”

“What is it?”

“If I tear up a document, will you tear mine up too?”

The tone was polite, but the content was not. Ian’s eyes flashed sharply, and the mage grinned, as if expecting that reaction. They wanted to stop him, but unless they risked their lives, there was no way.

Finally, Ian put down his pen and pressed his forehead.

“Enough fuss. Everyone, pull yourselves together. Don’t fall for Akorella’s illusions.”

“Oh my, illusions? Minister Ian, I’m only speaking within reason. Is it natural to be fine after using so much destructive magic? Does that make sense?”

“Exactly! This time, Captain Akorella is right!”

“Someone go fetch that Beric guy. We need to unleash the dog so he stops being so restless and actually works.”

“Don’t even mention it. He’s so busy it’s hard to see him.”

“Huh? Beric? Really?”

“He’s not a dog anymore. He’s a cow. A cow.”

The moment the tension eased, the noise picked up again.

This was probably another aftereffect of ‘Ian Verosion’ being erased. If they understood he was a divine body, they might accept it, but without that, it was impossible for them to comprehend.

Ian finally slammed his pen down.

“Oh, Ian, you’re finally listening to us? Thank you!”

“Come this way. I’ll treat you comfortably. The sunshine today is nice, and the bedding is all nicely dried.”

“No thanks.”

Ian shook his hand firmly to refuse, a faint smile playing on his lips.

The mages’ cheerful faces instantly stiffened. That smile—it felt ominous.

“You all seem full of energy, so I’m assigning you a mission.”

“Ah, um—”

“Distribute and carry it out as you see fit. First: find the body of Aris, the half-brother of King Torolun.”

To install Banusa as leader according to Bariel’s wishes, it was crucial to completely eliminate the remaining factions.

Right now, the only surviving royal bloodline was Aris, wasn’t it? Although the capital’s residents had all been slaughtered during the final battle, there was still a faint possibility that a child had survived and escaped.

The wizards’ eyes widened in shock, as if they might pop out.

“W-what do we do?” one stammered.

“Figure it out yourselves. Is it really my job to spell everything out?” came the curt reply.

“N-no, sir!” they quickly backpedaled.

“Second. Gather the materials for the magic power amplifier.”

At that, Akorella’s ears perked up. They’d been struggling with a shortage of materials, so this was good news.

But then came the problem.

“Where exactly?”

“That’s for you to figure out as well.”

Damn it. Ian must be seriously pissed. The wizards exchanged nervous glances, their eyes darting around. At this point, grabbing the easiest task was the only way to survive.

“Third—”

“Thiiiird!” they all shouted at once.

“I’ll take the third mission!” someone volunteered eagerly.

“You brats have no respect for rank! Let’s go by seniority. I’m the right person for it!” another barked.

Everyone lunged forward, desperate to claim the third task. They didn’t know what it was, but compared to searching for Aris’s corpse in the desert—a needle in a haystack—or going on a backbreaking mining trip with Akorella, it had to be better.

Ian pulled out a letter he had prepared in advance from his pocket.

“Third. Deliver this directly to King Hasha and Tokundai in Astana.”

“W-what? All the way there in person?”

“And if you don’t have magic?”

“Not having magic doesn’t mean you don’t have legs. Request a sturdy horse from the Defense Department.”

The wizards’ faces drained of color.

The sharpest among them bolted outside, shouting they’d go find the corpse or the materials. The first and second missions were, frankly, just time-consuming but manageable. The third was clearly going to be a nightmare.

“W-wait?!”

Tommy, who had been handed the letter on the spot, looked utterly miserable, glancing back and forth. Ian patted his shoulder, meaning, “You’re going to have a rough time.”

“Make sure you come back safely. If you think you can’t return within two weeks, come straight to Bariel.”

“N-no, wait! I-Ian! I was wrong!”

“Well then, good luck.”

Ian nodded at Tommy as he was dragged away by another wizard.

Once he was gone, the area finally fell silent. Ian pressed his throbbing forehead. This wasn’t stress. This was…

“You can stop signaling now.”

With that, a surge of territorial rage welled up inside him, mingled with the scent of blood.

Ian calmly wiped the corner of his mouth and straightened his clothes, then turned his attention to the commotion outside.

Meanwhile, outside the Magic Department’s tent—

Beric appeared after a long absence, carrying something tucked under his arm as he poked his head in.

“Hey there.”

“Oh my, Captain Beric!”

“Shut up. Where’s everyone going?”

“They’re not going anywhere—they’re being kicked out. What about you? What’s that you’re carrying?”

“Got it from Chloe’s carriage. Supposedly it’s really good for your health.”

“Huh?”

“Is Ian inside?”

Rumors were rampant that Chloe had stashed all sorts of elixirs for Xiaosi. And Beric wasn’t the type to just stand by. Maybe sharing some would help? Ian had been looking pretty weak lately.

“He’s here. Go on in.”

“Alright. By the way, why does Tommy look so miserable?”

“He’s been sent on a long errand.”

“Bullshit.”

“Bullshit? What do you know?”

“Easy, Tommy. Don’t waste your energy; you’ve got a long way to go.”

“Ahhh!”

Beric sniffled as he stepped inside the tent. The familiar scratch of pen on paper sounded pleasantly in the quiet.

Ian sensed his presence and glanced up to greet him.

“You’re here.”

“Yeah. How’s your health?”

“Fine. I’m tired of everyone asking me that.”

“Is that so?”

Beric dropped the elixirs onto the desk. Good to hear he was okay. If Ian said he was fine, then he really was. Always had been.

But today… something felt off.

‘…Why do I smell blood?’