Chapter 774

The Ministry of Magic was completely deserted. Not a single wizard—or even staff member—had come to work, leaving the place steeped in silence. The only sound was the faint scratching of a pen in the Minister’s office.

Ian glanced at Romandro sitting across from him and asked quietly, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“About what?” Romandro replied, eyes widening in surprise. Who was he to be asked that? The Minister of Magic, who had led the front lines throughout the war, being questioned by a mere aide who had only managed the office desk? Unbelievable! Seizing the moment, Romandro pulled his chair closer.

“Ian, it’s you who should be saying that. Don’t sit here like this—come to my house. Vivian said she’s prepared a delicious chicken dish.”

“How is your wife doing?”

“Well…” Romandro hesitated.

“I’m asking sincerely,” Ian pressed.

Romandro sighed softly. It was understandable—Vivian still carried a deep sense of guilt. Sending their child to the Hielo territory at Roel’s request, Philia’s furious reaction upon discovering it, and then the tragic news that followed.

Vivian had cried almost daily, praying for Philia’s soul. Though she had somewhat pulled herself together, she was clearly not the same as before.

When Romandro’s answer was slow in coming, Ian added, “Please tell her not to be too hard on herself. Mrs. Vivian did nothing wrong. It was Roel’s choice, her mother’s choice, and fate’s will.”

“Ian…”

“I mean it. If she keeps suffering like this, her mother will only grieve more. You understand that, don’t you?”

Romandro sniffled again and gently took Ian’s hand. Ian smiled warmly, sensing the sincerity.

“Also, separate from everything else, I want to be alone for a while.”

“You don’t want to come to my house?”

“No. During the war, I was always surrounded by others. Honestly, I’m a bit exhausted. I need some time alone in a familiar place.”

Romandro understood perfectly. Even without the war, just going out for earthquake recovery work meant being jostled and overwhelmed all day—noise, chaos, nerves on edge. The battlefield was on a whole other level, with the enemy to consider. The energy drain was unimaginable.

“Hmm. I get it. I really do.”

“Thank you. Please tell your wife I’m sorry, but it’s just fatigue. I’ll definitely visit next time.”

“Alright. Don’t push yourself. No pressure.”

“That’s a relief to hear.”

The chair creaked as Ian leaned back and checked the time. Evening had already fallen. Romandro tidied up his work and stood, then asked one last thing just in case.

“Have you eaten?”

“I’m fine.”

“Alright, then. Let’s meet again the day after tomorrow. Leave this as it is until then—I’ll help you out, okay?”

Bariel had declared the day after tomorrow a victory celebration. Most of the palace staff would be out, so it was a good time. Ian saw Romandro off, replying, “Understood.”

“Hey, make sure you eat well.”

“Enjoy your holiday, Romandro. I’ll rest properly too.”

Romandro scowled but climbed into his carriage. Despite his words, he was the type who would be back at his desk the moment he arrived home. Ian silently hoped he wouldn’t overdo it.

After watching the carriage disappear into the distance, Ian wiped the smile from his face and turned away. He pressed his hand against his chest, as if something was uncomfortable.

“Hmm.”

…This is tough.

Ian exhaled sharply and returned to the Minister’s office. Truthfully, he wanted to go to Romandro’s house too. It was like a second home to him—a rare place where he could truly rest, no matter how busy it got.

He sat down, staring blankly for a moment before picking up his pen again. If he didn’t keep busy with work, he felt like something inside him would be swept away. He didn’t know what it was, but that uncertainty made it all the more frightening.

Suddenly, a faint magical energy stirred somewhere nearby.

Ian’s pen faltered, and his gaze shifted toward the fireplace. Through the unlit hearth’s cracks, green flames began to flicker upward.

“…Well, this is unexpected.”

With a calm expression, Ian tossed a piece of papaleri wood into the fire. Like oil meeting water, the green flames surged higher.

Within the wavering, almost illusory flames, a figure slowly took shape.

“Tommy.”

[Ian! So you’re here after all. Thank goodness.]

It was Tommy, sent on an errand to Astana. His features were faint, and his voice buzzed strangely, but Ian had no trouble recognizing him. He crossed his legs on the sofa.

“What would have happened if I weren’t here?”

[Then I thought Romandro would be here. Sorry—I couldn’t perform any magic on my own. I borrowed the power of an Astana sorcerer.]

The green flames weren’t magic but a form of sorcery—an enchanted fire that allowed communication for a limited time, with the other party’s permission. To keep the flames burning, they needed not ordinary wood but pieces from fairy trees.

Ian watched the flickering flames, feeling no warmth, and added, “If Romandro had seen this, he’d say the Ministry was on fire.”

[Ha ha! That’s true. Ian, I delivered the letter to the king in Astana personally. You can see the sorcerer now or arrange another time. But long conversations aren’t possible—he’s quite old.]

“I’ll see him now. I don’t have many questions. Tommy, please arrange for me to speak with the sorcerer alone.”

[Ah, just a moment!]

Tommy glanced aside and said something, but Ian couldn’t hear clearly. The voice didn’t carry well even a short distance away.

After a moment, an elderly woman with sagging skin appeared. Though blurry, Ian could clearly see three pupils in her left eye—the eye that sees past, present, and future.

[I am honored to meet you, Ian Hielo, Minister of Magic. I am Bannaglen, the seer of Astana.]

“Pleasure to meet you. Can you keep our conversation secret? This isn’t about Astana—it’s entirely my own matter.”

The old woman nodded slowly. She had expected this. For the Minister of Bariel to seek a sorcerer all the way in Astana meant the matter couldn’t be known back home.

Her left pupil began to spin slowly. Ian hesitated a moment, then asked calmly,

“…Can you see the end of my fate?”

He had felt it clearly since defeating the underground god. If Akorella had known, she would have raged and cried bitter tears. Ian imagined her silent fury and smiled wryly.

[The end of your fate…]

Cruelly, the underground god’s words had some truth. Ian’s role as a Hielo was over. It was only natural to erase all traces and return. Ian sensed the end was near—each moment, the god’s grip tightened around his heart.

He rubbed his chest with his fingertips, biting his lip as the seer’s answer delayed, anxiety gnawing at him.

[I see it. Very clearly.]

To see clearly meant it was close.

The seer’s pupils continued spinning in circles.

“What do you see?”

It was a delicate matter—for Ian personally and for all of Bariel. That was why he had reached out to Astana, seeking clues from afar.

The spinning stopped abruptly. Her voice drifted faintly.

[You are smiling. And… there are many who will share your final moments.]

Ian was startled by the unexpected words and paused, pressing his forehead as if overwhelmed. This message was completely at odds with his plans.

The seer sighed softly.

[…Rain is falling. It’s very clear, but I cannot say exactly when.]

Ian sipped his tea and remained silent.

Rain…

[That is all I can tell you. But remember this: to divine fate is like trying to count the waves in the middle of the ocean. Even the slightest breeze or the flick of a fish’s tail can change everything.]

“Sounds like something I’ve heard before. Thanks.”

Ian smiled faintly. It was a shame, but it was okay. Just knowing there was still time left was enough. After all, there was still much to be done here.

The sorcerer bowed his head and slowly vanished. Then Tommy’s eyes widened as he leaned in close.

“Mr. Ian, have you finished what you needed to do?”

“Yes. So you should hurry back too, Tommy.”

Hearing there wasn’t much time, Ian felt a sudden urge to see more. Unaware of Ian’s thoughts, Tommy nodded brightly with a wide smile.

And just like that, the green flames disappeared. Ian leaned back into the sofa, picturing his own end. Smiling? He? And with so many people around?

“That can’t happen…”

According to his plan, it wasn’t supposed to be like that. Just as Ian muttered to himself, footsteps came from the door.

“What’s not supposed to happen?”

It was Berrick, carrying a bunch of wine bottles and snacks. Ian jumped in surprise and turned around, while Berrick frowned as he looked around the desk.

“See? I knew it. How can you be working on a day like this? How are you supposed to enjoy yourself when you’re worried about the others downstairs?”

“And what about you?”

“I’m the captain.”

Good grief, why was that so funny? Ian burst out laughing. Berrick scratched his chin awkwardly and sat down across from him on the sofa.

“I’m a minister too.”

“Yeah, but that’s different from me.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

“Anyway, life’s really funny. I’m the captain now, Ian.”

“Yeah. It’s a shame I can’t just celebrate.”

Berrick poured wine into his glass in a steady stream, then stared intently at Ian. Their eyes met. Ian worried Berrick might have overheard their earlier conversation, and Berrick—

“You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“What do you mean?”

“You keep smelling like blood.”

Berrick was trying to find the source of the faint scent of blood lingering somewhere.

Ian shrugged casually.

“I was on a battlefield just this afternoon.”

“That’s not quite it.”

“Berrick, you’re human. Don’t act like a dog.”

“Still, it’s strange. Be honest with me. You—”

Berrick lowered his voice, his expression serious.

“You keep having nosebleeds, don’t you?”

Nosebleeds? Ian’s eyes rolled slightly. Well, that was a decent enough excuse. When he chose to stay silent, Berrick sighed.

“Come on, take care of yourself.”

“Alright. I’ll be fine if I rest a bit.”

“Try to delegate some work to the others downstairs. Huh? Like me.”

“Then you’ll be fired soon, Berrick.”

“Hmph. Who else could do it? Everyone else is barely holding on.”

Ian stared into his glass filled with deep purple wine. Then, almost to himself, he added,

“Berrick. The kind of person who can do that is always close by. That’s what makes it dangerous.”