Chapter 797

Romandro wiped the cold sweat from his brow as he studied Jin’s expression.

This was all because of Hans just now. While the Ministry of Magic staff were applying painkillers in the lobby, Hans suddenly burst in, grabbed Jin by the collar, and shook him so violently!

“Where have you been?”

“Me? I’ve been in the minister’s office the whole time.”

“Then why didn’t you open the door? Seriously!”

Hans said it was a relief to finally meet Jin and handed him a bundle of notes—three sheets densely filled with small, neat handwriting. As soon as Romandro read through them, he hurried down to the basement and handed the papers to Jin.

And now—

“Romandro.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Jin finally set the papers down and turned to him. The entire sequence of events was laid out without omission—from the initial incident in Hwan to the explosion near Eirin’s tavern.

Jin tapped the paper lightly with his fingertip, clearly baffled.

“What on earth is Sir Ian thinking?”

“I… I apologize, Your Majesty.”

“No, I’m not asking for apologies. I’m genuinely curious. I thought maybe you might know something.”

Romandro gave an awkward smile and sniffled. He truly wanted to understand Ian’s hidden intentions.

“I thought that Eunrang was just spouting nonsense. That Ian was a monster or whatever—it’s a ridiculous claim.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. To say he’s a monster is absurd. Eunrang must not understand Bariel well.”

“But why didn’t Sir Ian deny it? When Eunrang and Hohun questioned his identity and said he was fundamentally different, according to Melania’s report, he didn’t refute it outright. In fact, he seemed to accept part of it.”

Romandro rubbed the back of his neck, clearly troubled. While he didn’t take the words at face value, the consistent claims from the Eastern magicians made him suspicious.

“And one more thing—”

Jin’s doubts weren’t over.

“The firearms.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“According to Melania, the Eastern magicians didn’t retrieve the firearms. Why would they do that? Even if those weapons aren’t rare to them, Melania explained their value, and it could have given them an advantage in negotiations.”

Despite Melania’s pointed hints, they seemed unconcerned. This only strengthened her claim that something was being hidden.

‘Besides, earlier in the underground prison, they swore to surrender the firearms. Is that just a ploy to escape danger? But it seems too sloppy for that. The truth will come out soon enough.’

To hand over the firearms, they’d have to contact the Eastern side, which would directly contradict their claim of fleeing from the Archmage.

Jin rubbed his forehead, clearly troubled.

“Romandro, for now, keep this information to yourself.”

“Yes, understood.”

“When Sir Ian wakes, I will seek his counsel and reconsider.”

Romandro bowed his head in acknowledgment.

Jin tucked the letter into his chest and stepped out into the lobby. From a distance, the prime minister and his aides turned their heads to look.

“Your Majesty, is something the matter?”

“Nothing. You needn’t worry.”

Though curious, the prime minister and his aides knew better than to press further when the emperor so firmly dismissed their concerns. They returned to the main topic: how to deal with the Eastern magicians.

“Your Majesty, what should be done with the Eastern magicians?”

“No matter how I think about it, targeting Minister Bariel is unforgivable. Even the damage to Minister Raiven’s residence… yes, they must pay with their lives.”

“Sniffle—”

“Oh dear, more tears. Please, everyone, calm down and think clearly. Do you not realize that killing them ends everything? Let’s move this discussion elsewhere.”

“I agree. It’s uncomfortable discussing firearms in front of the Ministry staff.”

“Um, Captain Akorella is looking this way.”

“Ahem! Your Majesty, perhaps we should move to the main palace—”

Jin raised his hand to silence the chatter, and the noisy room fell instantly quiet. Even the grumbling magicians in the distance quieted down. Then, Jin made his decision.

“The Eastern magicians will not be executed.”

The reactions were sharply divided. Those who supported importing firearms clenched their fists in silent celebration, while the magicians stood up in protest. Romandro’s face showed he couldn’t understand Jin’s decision. But—

“They are not envoys of the East, but collaborators.”

“Excuse me? What do you mean?”

“I have reliable information. They stole goods from the Eastern Archmage and smuggled them into Gaia. I cannot be sure they will honor their promise to surrender the firearms.”

Even if the firearms were magical in nature, their production likely didn’t stray far from conventional weapon-making. Unless they had some other method, it was impossible to judge for now.

“Then wouldn’t it be better to execute them as an example? If surrendering the firearms is uncertain, there’s no reason to keep them alive.”

“No.”

Jin shook his head firmly. The key wasn’t the firearms—it was the Archmage himself.

“Their custody will be handed over to the Archmage.”

“Ah!”

“He is the absolute authority over the entire East. We have the Ministry of Magic, but—”

When Jin looked at the magicians, they straightened their backs proudly, blinking with satisfaction. Though all were covered in soot and looked like beggars, there was nothing laughable about them.

“Everyone is exhausted from the war, and above all, we do not know the extent of our opponent’s power. For now, we must maintain a neutral stance. We will hand over Eunrang and Hohun as tokens of peace and gain advantage. Let that be known.”

Advantage.

Each listener pictured something different. Some thought of firearms, others of trade with the New World, some of peace, and others dreamed of the limitless development of magic.

“If they are collaborators—”

The prime minister was the first to voice agreement.

“There is no punishment harsher than that for them.”

“Indeed.”

What could be more painful and terrifying for the Eastern Archmage, who so desperately wanted to escape, than having his life’s fate handed over to others?

The East has its own laws, and despair that Gaia’s people cannot understand. They knew that death could sometimes be salvation, not just the ultimate punishment. They had seen it with Damon and Rutherford.

“Let’s move to another location. But before that—”

Jin looked at Akorella, who was also lost in thought about the Eastern Archmage.

“Captain Akorella?”

“Yes?”

“May I see Sir Ian for a moment?”

Jin’s request was almost a plea. The news of Ian’s unconsciousness gnawed at him.

Akorella nodded as if to say ‘just a moment’ and headed straight for the minister’s office.

Creak.

“Well then, we’ll head to the main palace first.”

“Agreed. It’s better not to crowd the minister’s office.”

“Your Majesty, please send my regards to Minister Ian.”

“Please, he’s unconscious.”

“Oh, I meant that our hearts are connected. Ha ha.”

“By the way, is it true that Minister Ian was defeated by the two Eastern magicians?”

“The Eastern magicians seemed clueless about the situation.”

“Come on, it’s Minister Ian. It must be war fatigue.”

Could he really have lost? Even if the opponents were Eastern magicians, Ian’s subordinates were captured so easily. If Ian lost, what would become of the minister’s reputation? In the Ministry of Magic, where strength alone decides leadership.

Nakinaga, sensing the implication, suddenly shouted in anger.

“Hey!”

“Nakinaga, control yourself.”

“But, Captain Hale—”

“Don’t dignify nonsense with a response. It only harms us.”

Hale answered, cigarette in mouth, calm but with a jaw set tight.

At that moment, the minister’s office door opened again, and Akorella peeked her head in.

“You may enter. Fortunately, his breathing has stabilized.”

“May I come in as well?”

“The prime minister?”

When the prime minister standing behind Jin asked, Akorella’s eyes narrowed. She was skeptical but had no reason to refuse.

“Yes, please come in.”

Akorella opened the door, and they were led inside.

The moment they crossed the threshold, all outside noise vanished—thanks to a spatial separation spell. Jin sighed softly as he looked at Ian lying on the sofa.

“…Good heavens.”

Pale skin, hair soaked with sweat. The magicians tending to him looked just as grim. No matter how much mana they poured in, the liver showed no sign of improvement.

Yet they couldn’t stop. It felt like pouring water into a bottomless pit.

“Lord Ian.”

Jin’s voice trembled softly as he called out to Ian. Aside from the shallow, ragged breaths, Ian showed no sign of response.

“Is he able to wake up?”

The emperor’s question made Akorella hesitate briefly, choosing her words carefully. Even the central archives held almost no records on the Chuswae magic. Only Ian truly knew the extent of its side effects, so it was difficult to speak confidently about his recovery.

But despite that, they would not give up.

“Of course. We are doing everything we can to aid Lord Ian’s recovery. He will be well again soon.”

Akorella murmured this almost like a declaration, exchanging a glance with the prime minister. Neither Lord Ian nor the magic department was to be disturbed at a time like this.

“Lord Ian.”

The bloodstains on Ian’s pillow and blanket were starkly visible—just as they had been when he was first brought in. The chaos of the mages rushing to find Eunrang and Hohun had left no time to tidy up, but more than that, Ian’s condition was simply too grave.

‘Damn it.’

Jin sat beside Ian, running his hands through his hair in regret. If he had known it would come to this, he would have searched for Lord Ian immediately after the explosion instead of returning to the palace. Would things have been different if he’d gone with Beric?

“The mages from the East claim they did not attack. What, then, caused this?”

The prime minister looked at Ian with a puzzled expression. Seeing him now, he really did look like a child of that age—fragile and pitiful.

“It’s the aftereffects of excessive magic use during the war.”

Akorella gave a vague, half-hearted answer. It wasn’t untrue, but she had no intention of revealing the full extent of Ian’s condition.

“I’m sorry to say, but perhaps due to the strain from the war, even generating Idgal itself has become difficult.”

Jin suddenly recalled Ian’s pale smile from days past. He had thought it was just a lie to keep the magic department in check—but it wasn’t.

Though Idgal was supposed to be unrelated to magical power, if Ian’s body had been damaged like this, it must have been a heavy burden.

“Sigh.”

Jin let out a deep breath and bowed his head. Meanwhile, Akorella took her leave from the minister’s office, nodding to the mages who beckoned her.

“……”

Silence settled over the room. The prime minister stood quietly behind, watching Ian.

With a swift motion, he pulled a white fur from his robe. Secretly, he held it close to his eyes and glanced at the emperor, but there was nothing unusual.

Then, it was Ian’s turn.

“……!”

The prime minister’s eyes widened. Just as the Eastern mages had reported, Ian’s form was twisted beyond recognition—something unidentifiable.

He watched the emperor clasp Ian’s hand for a long moment before quietly slipping out of the minister’s office.