Chapter 790
“…What about Beric?”
Eirin found herself asking the question before she could stop herself, setting down the new beer on the table. She had only just resolved to pretend she didn’t know, yet the words slipped out anyway.
It was hardly surprising—Beric, who had been sitting right across from them moments ago, had vanished without a trace. Jin shrugged and pointed toward the window, signaling that he didn’t know either.
“Looks like he saw something.”
“Huh? Saw what?”
“No idea. Must have been important.”
“No matter what, Your Majesty—no, you can’t just leave your party alone like this. That’s not right.”
She almost called him “Your Majesty” again… Eirin glanced behind her, scanning the tavern’s interior. The patrons were already half-drunk and barely coherent, and even the owner, who had been grilling meat, was now sitting among the customers with an empty glass in hand. At this hour, no one was quite themselves. Was that a relief or a worry?
Just then, Jin tapped the spot where Beric had been sitting and asked Eirin quietly, “It’s a bit lonely sitting alone.”
Technically, he wasn’t alone—two palace guards were watching over him out of sight. But what did that matter?
“Want to sit?”
In the end, Eirin couldn’t resist Jin’s steady gaze. She turned slightly and took the seat opposite him.
…If she thought about it, it was all Minister Ian’s fault. Stirring up strange talk and making everyone nervous!
“How have you been?”
Jin’s greeting sounded as if they’d known each other for years. Eirin pinched her thigh hard, trying to stay grounded. No misunderstandings—how could the Emperor possibly care for someone like her? It was best to chalk it up to Ian’s mischievous joke for her own sanity.
“I’ve been well. And Your Majesty—”
“Jin.”
Jin cut her off gently.
“Call me Jin.”
“…!”
He gave her a knowing look, warning her not to say it aloud lest they attract the attention of the noisy drunks around them. Eirin hesitated. Anyone would hesitate—few dared to call Jin by his name openly in Bariel, or anywhere in Gaia. So she chose to omit the subject altogether.
“…Is there something you need?”
The palace must be overwhelming with work, so there had to be a reason he came to this small tavern at such an hour.
Jin took a slow sip of his beer without answering. Then, as if recalling a memory, he pointed toward the opposite door, now blocked off with crates and unused.
“Ten years ago, when I first came here, that was the entrance.”
“Ten years ago?”
“Back then, Beric’s outfit was really strange. Romandro and Minister Ian were playing the role of housekeepers, and you kept messing up the titles, just like now. Beric scolded you for it.”
Eirin smiled, intrigued. Jin smiled along with her.
“Beric kept getting lost, so Xiaosi grabbed his collar to pull him back. I found that oddly amusing. At the time, I drank milk instead of beer.”
“Milk?”
“Yeah. Honeyed milk. It was delicious.”
“Oh, the owner does have a knack for sweets. So you came back for that taste?”
“…Yeah. I missed it.”
What Jin missed wasn’t just the taste of that milk, but the laughter they shared, the gentle touch of Minister Ian’s hand, and the hopeful feeling of looking toward tomorrow.
Eirin nodded softly, sensing the weight behind Jin’s words. Something had definitely happened. She’d worked here for three years and never seen a guest as notable as Jin or Beric. So, as he said, it had been nearly a decade since he last came.
“I’ll be returning to Bariel soon, but I want you to stay close to His Majesty. You’re more reliable than anyone and will surely be a great support to him.”
Eirin suddenly recalled her conversation with Ian. It had seemed odd then, but now it felt even stranger—almost as if Jin had anticipated this hardship all along.
She rubbed the wooden table lightly and ventured, “Is this because of Minister Ian?”
Jin turned to her, surprised. How did she know? Eirin smiled awkwardly and scratched her cheek.
“After the war, I spoke briefly with Minister Ian in Toorun.”
“Minister Ian?”
“Yes. It wasn’t anything grand, but—”
Eirin paused, searching for the right words.
“I was worried about His Majesty. It seemed he thought the road ahead would be difficult. Now that I see you here, I guess his concerns were justified.”
“You think I’ll have a hard time…”
Jin rubbed his forehead gently.
‘Minister Ian foresaw changes in the palace after the war. Yet he took no action. He must have thought it was the natural course of things.’
And rather than trying to lessen the burden of power that had shifted to the Magic Department and himself, he believed it was right for Jin to face it head-on. What’s given can be lost, but what’s earned stays forever.
“Sigh.”
“Your Majesty?”
“It’s complicated.”
Difficult, but it had to be done. Just as Ian expected, just as he wished, this was the only way forward. The only way to restore balance.
“Eirin, whenever I talk with you, somehow the path becomes clear.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
Should he say he was glad to have met her? Jin hesitated. Another beer was placed between them.
Boom.
“Your Majesty, a moment, please.”
It was Beric.
If he was going to disappear without a word, he could at least come back quietly and be discreet. Why now? Jin frowned in displeasure.
“Why so early?”
“Your Majesty, it’s all out in the open. Can’t you see the atmosphere over there?”
Only then did Jin and Eirin notice the drunks’ glasses were empty. The fact that the man in the corner was the Emperor, and the teasing conversation with Eirin, had them frozen in place.
Beric openly called them out, yet shamelessly, they kept clinking their empty glasses together.
“Ahh, ahh, delicious.”
“This chicken here really is the best!”
“Hmm. So what happened then?”
“Well, it went like this and then that.”
Not only were their glasses empty, but their plates were too. They stabbed at thin air with their forks, filling the background with disjointed chatter.
Eirin closed her eyes tightly in frustration and dashed into the kitchen.
“Ah.”
Jin just shook his head regretfully and looked at Beric.
“Where did you go?”
“…I saw Ian and Melania passing behind that alley.”
“Who? Minister Ian and Melania?”
Ian was supposed to be at Romandro’s mansion, wasn’t he? Well, that could be. But where did Melania come from all of a sudden?
Beric shrugged.
“Romandro was with them, so it seems related to the Magic Department, but I couldn’t find out the details.”
“Ah…”
Something else was brewing. Jin trailed off.
Boom.
A faint explosion echoed from somewhere. If Jin noticed it, Beric and the other palace guards certainly did. Beric jumped up and looked toward the window; the drunks flinched and turned their heads.
“Your Majesty.”
“Yes.”
It was probably related to Ian. Jin drained the rest of his beer in one gulp and grabbed his coat.
“We’re heading back to the palace.”
“Yes, understood.”
“Beric, you come with me. The other two, scout the nearby area and report.”
Because it was Ian’s matter, he would trust it. It was all for himself and Bariel.
At the same time, because it was Ian’s matter, he would face it with everything he had. And in the end, just as Ian wished, he would restore the palace’s balance with his own hands.
‘Ah.’
It had always been this way. The truth he realized after learning his late father, the former emperor, had been frozen. Jin smiled faintly. Nothing had changed—neither Ian nor himself, then or now.
Jin pulled out the money for the drinks from his pocket and greeted them—loud enough for everyone to hear, especially the woman in the kitchen.
“I had a great time. I’ll be back.”
Crack! Crack!
The Ministry of Magic was suddenly thrown into chaos in the early hours. It was the usual time of night, but an urgent message had just arrived, throwing everything into disarray.
The wizards, still half-asleep and disheveled, rushed down the corridor and burst into the minister’s office.
Bang!
“Ian! Oh my god!”
“No, why—what happened to you?”
“Damn it, get Captain Hale here! Now!”
“Romandro, are you alright?”
“What on earth happened, haah… Ian, wait. Try to breathe slowly. Lift your head. Don’t swallow your blood. Can you hear me?”
“Must be the backlash magic, right?”
“Move aside! Captain Akorella’s here!”
Boom!
Akorella came running in barefoot and immediately checked Ian’s condition. Maybe from shock, her hands trembled—uncharacteristic for her. She rummaged through her pockets and barked orders to her subordinates.
“Go get the amplifier.”
Then she scanned the wizards gathered around her. Ian was only just starting to recover. If they tried to share his magic now, it would only make things worse.
Without hesitation, Akorella stuck a syringe into her own arm and began channeling her magic into Ian.
Zzzzz! Zzzzz!
“Ugh.”
“Captain, I’ll take over now.”
“Shut up. He can hold on until Hale gets here.”
I knew it. She was right. After using backlash magic like that, Ian’s body couldn’t possibly be fine. No, it was a complete mess!
And yet Ian had opened portals from Toorun to Bariel and kept working nonstop? He was insane. Ian was insane, and I was insane for not stopping him.
Haah, haah—
A drop of sweat trickled down Akorella’s jaw. Ian’s eyelids twitched slightly. He was starting to respond.
“Damn it, when the hell is Hale coming?”
“He’ll be here soon. I’ll handle it, Captain.”
“Ah, damn it! Enough! Romandro, what happened? How did Ian end up like this?”
If it had gotten this bad for no reason, it was a serious problem. Romandro, tears streaming down his face, cleared his throat and explained.
“W-well, sob! Lady Melania brought some Eastern wizards from Hawan. I didn’t see clearly. Ian told me to stay put. Then there was an explosion—I never thought it’d be this bad.”
“Wait, who?”
“Melania?”
“No—”
When the wizards mentioned Melania, Akorella immediately shook her head. They already knew her whereabouts from Ian. But wasn’t there another name?
“Eastern wizards?”
“Yeah.”
“Wizards—?”
“Yeah…”
Akorella and the others’ eyes flashed. So Ian had come face to face with those guys and ended up like this?
Romandro, overwhelmed and confused, collapsed and sobbed uncontrollably. Meanwhile, the wizards exchanged sharp glances and muttered curses.
“Damn it, don’t tell me those bastards—”
How dare they? Ian?
“…are trying to kill him.”