Chapter 775
When the veterans returned to everyday life, they brought back three things: the honor of having fought for their homeland, their compensation, and vivid stories from the front lines.
No matter which tavern you entered, you could find groups of men, tipsy and loud, recounting their tales. Even if similar stories echoed from tables just a few seats away, people eagerly listened, entertained by their spirited retellings.
“Back then, the sky just tore apart with thunder and lightning, I swear!”
“Hey now, enough with the exaggerations.”
“Exaggerations? You’ve never been to war, have you? Don’t talk if you haven’t. It was breathtaking—eyes popping, jaws dropping, heart pounding like crazy!”
“Beams of light exploded everywhere! Thousands of them rained down, crushing the heads of those monsters in one blow. It was incredible.”
“And when the monsters swarmed across the northern plains, like ants crawling all over, the mages just took to the air and with a flick of a finger, turned them all to ash.”
“Were they mages or magic swordsmen?”
“What does it matter, man!”
“No, seriously, these were mages. On the final day, the decisive battle! A giant tree trunk sprouted up, bigger than the magic tower itself, and it grabbed the monster’s body—”
“Crash! Smash!”
“Hey! Keep it down over there.”
“Why don’t you be quiet instead?”
“Huh? Third Division?”
“Eh? Seeing you here? So you’re from around here.”
“Ask that guy. Did you really see the sky tear apart? Right?”
“Of course! The mages were amazing.”
“Wow, oh wow!”
The crowd listened with awe, as if hearing a legendary eyewitness account.
Everyone knew the mages were powerful, but how often did ordinary people get to see them in action? Aside from the New Year’s celebrations when flower petals rained down, such displays were rare.
“So it really was possible.”
“I’m from Bariel, so I’m truly grateful.”
“Your Majesty? Did you see him in person?”
“Your Majesty?”
The man who had been talking excitedly suddenly hesitated. While mages flying overhead were a common sight if you looked up, the emperor was in the heart of the camp, not someone easily seen—just a presence you knew was there.
He rinsed his mouth with his drink and shrugged.
“I didn’t get a good look.”
“I heard he’s quite handsome.”
“Skilled with the sword, too.”
“Hmm. Is that so?”
When had the emperor personally taken the field during the war? The man scratched his cheek, trying to recall.
“…Maybe at the final battle in the capital, Toorun. I think he came close then.”
“Why?”
“The Toorun locals staged a riot, so he led the charge to quell it.”
He fell silent for a moment. Only his comrades at the next table understood the weight of that silence—the cries of the young ones who died by his own hand came to mind.
The mood grew heavy, so the others awkwardly smiled and offered him another drink.
“If His Majesty led from the front like that, it must have been a great honor to be there.”
“…Honor? Ah, well, I suppose.”
“Oh, come on, no false modesty.”
“Yeah. There were more casualties than expected. Living through that, how could it not be honorable?”
Someone suddenly asked.
“The Imperial Guard took heavy losses, right?”
“The commander was wiped out. But all the magic division leaders survived.”
“Geez. If that’s the case, shouldn’t the mages be part of the guard? They’re supposed to be the emperor’s right hand. If they’re weaker than the magic division…”
“Listen, their sources of power are different. The magic division has their own way of working together.”
“True. And now there’s no enemy left anyway.”
“Right. Without the magic division, no one would dare think of rebellion. Rumor has it the current Imperial Guard commander is from the magic division minister’s faction.”
The last speaker bit the inside of his cheek reflexively—his comment was dangerously close to crossing a line.
But everyone was drunk, and it wasn’t entirely untrue, so they laughed it off, offering a quiet warning to be careful.
Swish.
The Prime Minister adjusted his glasses and read through the newspaper.
Leading the headlines in the Bariel Central newspapers, including the Daily Mail, was the news of the war’s end. Having conquered the neighboring three nations—Burgos, Luswena, and Toorun—and achieved a decisive victory, such coverage was expected.
But a few article titles caught the Prime Minister’s eye.
“Heroes of Victory: The Great Empire’s Legendary Mages!”
“Bariel’s Glory Blessed by the Gods: The Power of Magic”
“What’s Behind the Strange Rumors in Toorun? The Last Desperate Acts of the Defeated?”
Knock, knock.
“Prime Minister, the meeting is about to begin.”
“Hmm, very well.”
His aide watched him carefully. Something was different. The Prime Minister usually stood immediately after responding, but this time he seemed reluctant to leave the sofa. The aide knew better than anyone that this was a meeting the emperor would attend.
After finishing the newspaper, the Prime Minister slowly rose.
“Well then, let’s go.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Just… everyone seems a little too caught up in their celebrations.”
He waved off the concern and climbed into the carriage.
The corridors leading to the meeting hall buzzed with activity. The festival had ended, and everything was returning to normal—the day the emperor left for war.
“The palace is lively. It’s good to see.”
“Yes. It reminds us how precious everyday life is.”
“Do you plan to address ‘that matter’ in today’s meeting?”
“We’ll see how things go.”
“Understood. I’ll prepare a separate report for submission.”
“We’ve arrived. Let’s proceed.”
The Prime Minister was old now. Without a cane or someone to support him, walking was difficult.
He knew better than anyone that his time was short. Every day in the palace was precious, and he felt a deep affection for the emperor who would carry on after him.
Creak.
As the meeting hall doors slid open, the staff inside greeted him with polite nods.
Among them was Ian, the Minister of Magic. The young man stood straight, busily organizing reports.
“Good morning, Minister.”
“Good morning, Prime Minister.”
“I heard you’ve been with the Magic Division all this time. Have you recovered from your travels?”
Though the greeting sounded warm, Ian hesitated, sensing something beneath the surface. Instead of answering, he simply smiled—a silent question of where the news had come from, since he had kept to himself.
“His Majesty the Emperor is arriving!”
“Please be seated and remain quiet.”
At that moment, a herald announced the emperor’s arrival. The Prime Minister took his seat, and Ian stood to welcome him.
Many administrative officials followed the emperor’s procession, carrying an unprecedented amount of documents—proof of the mountain of work awaiting them.
Ian spotted a familiar face among the officials behind the emperor.
‘Quintana.’
The Minister of Administration and the empire’s chief financial officer. Quintana recognized Ian and gave a friendly nod.
“Everyone, please be seated.”
At the emperor’s command, dozens of officials took their seats and turned their attention to him. The emperor surveyed the packed hall with a fresh smile.
“Good morning. It’s a pleasure to see you all here, away from the battlefield. I believe it’s been a long time since I’ve looked forward to this meeting.”
The session began with the emperor’s light-hearted joke. Warm laughter filled the room, and greetings welcoming his safe return echoed here and there. Though the postwar workload was immense, what else mattered?
After brief updates, Quintana spoke.
“I am Quintana, Minister of Administration. The main agenda today concerns the compensation payments for our veterans.”
“I believe this was announced before deployment.”
“Yes. The pay was set at 70 silver coins per month of service.”
“That’s correct. However, due to the current state of the treasury, we cannot make lump-sum payments to all soldiers at once. Therefore, we need to discuss a phased payment plan and establish the criteria.”
“Hmm. I think sorting by length of service might be best.”
“Wouldn’t rank order be better?”
The officials each voiced their opinions, sparking a debate. Jin listened attentively without missing a word, while the Prime Minister kept glancing over at Ian.
Just then, Ian, who had been deep in thought, raised his hand and offered a suggestion.
“We need to carefully weigh what benefits we can secure from other countries and how long it will take before making a final decision. First, there’s the war reparations. Burgos is the closest and its situation is stable, so we can start by demanding from them.”
The officials quickly chimed in.
“That makes sense. What about the other countries?”
“Ruswena is currently being managed from Cliffford, but the fall of Elbasa was so sudden that there’s widespread unrest in the provinces. There are also complications involving Hwan.”
“The war reparations proposed by Burgos amount to 10,000 gold coins. Additionally, there’s the export of mana stones and the cession of Burgos’s eastern borderlands adjacent to Bariel.”
The officials busied themselves, scribbling notes and flipping through reports to verify these claims.
“We sent a dispatch to Burgos while still in Toorun, so Lady Kayla should already be preparing.”
“Ten thousand gold coins, huh…”
“And what about Toorun?”
“There’s no set amount for Toorun yet. Minister Tweller’s report after the stabilization efforts will clarify that.”
So, they still didn’t know how much would come from Toorun and Ruswena. Quintana was quickly running the numbers when Ian tilted his head in curiosity.
“But—”
Jin and the other officials turned their attention to Ian.
“Why is there no mention of Hwan? Regardless of the circumstances, they attacked Bariel alongside Ruswena.”
The room stirred at his comment. It wasn’t so much a reminder of something forgotten as a sense that the inevitable had arrived. The murmurs came mostly from the administration and foreign affairs departments.
“I was just about to bring that up. The information came in alongside the victory ceremony, so we’ve been verifying its accuracy for several days and haven’t yet reported it to His Majesty the Emperor.”
The Prime Minister said this, then looked at Jin, signaling that since it hadn’t been reported to the Emperor, it couldn’t be disclosed here.
Jin rubbed his chin, pondering briefly. Was there anything sensitive about Hwan that needed censoring? After all, everyone present was a minister-level official.
“For now, proceed with what you can, excluding anything that requires further verification.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
At the Prime Minister’s signal, his aide distributed a fresh report. Ian carefully reviewed it, then hesitated.
“Currently, Hwan’s capital is engulfed in a fierce civil war between the kingdom’s army and rebel forces. Bariel’s informants can’t get close. Meanwhile, the rebels have sent a letter.”
The message was simple: they wanted help to end the civil war. Some officials dismissed it as trivial.
But Ian felt differently.
‘This could go very wrong—’
The Prime Minister had filtered the report. Hwan. And a proposal from the rebels. Ian rubbed his forehead, waiting for the Prime Minister’s next words.
‘This is going to cause problems.’
They had intended to vanish without leaving a trace, but an unexpected situation had just arrived.