Chapter 800

“Ian, please—ah—open your mouth.”

The wizard shyly offered a spoon, but Ian frowned. Seeing his reaction, another wizard stepped forward, holding out a fork with some fruit.

Unable to watch any longer, Romandro grabbed the wizards by the back of their necks and shook them off.

“Have you all completely lost your minds?”

“Why not! Romandro, if you were sick, we’d do the same for you!”

“I have Viviana to take care of me!”

“But Ian doesn’t have Viviana!”

“Ugh, enough with the fussing. Just get back to work! Ian can eat just fine on his own.”

It had been three days since Ian regained his senses. He was now able to eat alone, walk—albeit slowly—and, most importantly, hold a pen. In other words, he had been handling urgent matters from the sofa.

Romandro flipped through the reports on the table, checking the signatures. The handwriting was neat, though the pressure of the pen wasn’t as strong as before.

“Romandro, I believe I can attend the afternoon assembly. Please relay this in advance.”

“Don’t push yourself. Didn’t His Majesty order complete rest?”

“I’m fine. Staying in bed all the time only makes it worse.”

“I understand what you mean, but…”

“With the Prime Minister absent, the Minister of Magic can’t just leave his post.”

Leaning back against the sofa, Ian let out a small sigh.

Honestly, he thought he’d been hallucinating. When he came to, Hwan’s rebels had already been crushed, the Eastern wizards were locked in underground prisons, and the Prime Minister was under house arrest. Ian struggled to turn the pages of the report.

‘The reason for the Prime Minister’s punishment remains classified.’

Whether it was to save face or due to some other issue, he didn’t know. But at least the troublesome gunpowder import matter had been indefinitely postponed, so things were more or less settled.

“By the way, Ian…”

“Yes?”

Romandro looked at him with concern.

“Are you really okay?”

Top physicians from the palace had examined him but couldn’t diagnose any clear illness. They could only assume it was a side effect of magic. The problem was that there was almost no data on the ‘Chuswae’ magic, so even the wizards couldn’t help his recovery. All they could do was keep sharing their mana.

“Worried?”

“Is that even a question?”

“I’m fine, as you can see.”

Ian smiled faintly and held up both hands. His wrists, visible beyond his sleeves, were incredibly thin.

Romandro’s nose twitched, and he picked up the spoon and fork the wizards had left behind. Feeding him something seemed the priority.

Knock, knock.

“Ian, His Majesty has arrived.”

“The Emperor? Show him in.”

But the sudden arrival of the Emperor left the spoon and fork forgotten.

The door opened, and Jin entered briskly, immediately checking on Ian. Just seeing him sitting up was a clear relief.

“Sir Ian!”

“You’ve come.”

“Please, sit. I’m truly glad to see you recovering.”

Jin approached, almost overwhelmed with joy. He had wanted to rush over the moment he heard Ian had regained consciousness, but with the Prime Minister absent, he couldn’t leave his post.

“Thank you for your kind words.”

“No, I’m the one who’s grateful.”

Jin nodded as if everything was finally falling into place. Once Ian fully recovered, the palace would enjoy peaceful days without any storms. That was Jin’s heartfelt wish for his Bariel.

He placed his hand on Ian’s, conveying his lingering apologies.

“The support payments for the veterans have begun. Additionally, the Ministry of Magic will be officially commended. Ian, I’ve been thinking long and hard about what to give you.”

“I’m fine. If there’s anything to be given, please distribute it among the wizards.”

Ian’s response was exactly what Jin expected. After all, Ian, the Minister of Magic, had lived without a home. Jin smiled again, admiring his selflessness. Romandro, overhearing this, sniffled in awe.

“Truly, Your Majesty.”

Ian added with a faint smile, amused by their reactions. He was someone who would eventually return to the future; what meaning did honors hold now?

But Jin shook his head.

“You may think that way, but I cannot. Ian, I intend to grant you the title of Count and provide you with a residence in the capital.”

With all suspicions cleared, Ian’s only remaining merit was his role in defeating the underground god.

Jin would have liked to grant him a dukedom, but strong opposition from the nobles prevented it. Dukes were the highest-ranking nobles, mostly from royal branches. Since the fall of the Haiman family ten years ago, no new dukes had appeared.

“I-Ian! This is wonderful! Oh, wait, I shouldn’t call you that anymore.”

Romandro stammered excitedly, as if he himself had received the title.

But Ian’s reaction was calm, contemplative. Jin tilted his head in confusion.

“Is something wrong, Ian?”

“Not happy?”

Ian gave an awkward smile.

“My apologies, Your Majesty.”

The name Hielo didn’t exist in Ian’s Bariel. He had no intention of keeping any title, and his name would soon be erased from history. So a countship? And a mansion in the capital? This was not what Ian wanted.

“Ian?”

“Your Majesty, may I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Do you trust me?”

When the Hwan incident occurred, Jin had immediately dismissed the possibility of the Ministry of Magic’s involvement based on Ian’s word. He had punished the Prime Minister and now was bestowing a noble title on Ian. Such actions required trust.

“Of course.”

Jin answered without hesitation.

He believed he understood Ian’s intentions. The words Ian had said to Eirin in Torlun, the strange disturbances he’d caused to create tension in the palace—all of it was meant for Jin’s sake.

Ian smiled faintly and nodded.

“I see.”

“Strange question.”

“Your Majesty, earlier you asked if I was worried about myself. Having just passed a critical point, my mind is still unsettled.”

Jin looked puzzled, studying Ian, when Romandro stepped in to mediate. Both seemed to genuinely believe Ian was still unwell.

“I’m grateful, Your Majesty.”

After a long silence, Ian quietly expressed his thanks. Jin responded with a smile.

“You’re too modest.”

“But I cannot accept the title or the mansion.”

“Why not?”

Ian gently patted Jin’s hand. Memories flashed through his mind—the child marveling at his mana orb, the child abandoned by his mother, crying with a torn face, the child climbing the palace stairs, excited for his first assembly, the child who first barked orders as a prince…

“Because I’m grateful.”

“Ian.”

“Because I want to give back.”

“I don’t quite understand.”

Ian’s life was limited. That was certain. And the more his traces here were erased, the more his Bariel would remain unchanged.

“I mean to give everything I have.”

Just as Jin trusted Ian, Ian trusted Crony. Though Ian was by Jin’s side now, one day he would be alone.

But what if, then, someone like Crony appeared beside Jin? Jin would surely discern right from wrong, but breaking that trust would not be easy. Ian knew that firsthand.

“Even if it costs me everything, I will create a truly perfect Bariel for Your Majesty.”

Literally, giving everything.

What that meant exactly, Ian didn’t know yet. But now was not the time to ask. Jin was so moved he couldn’t find words, only grasping Ian’s hand tightly.

“Thank you, Ian.”

“Please, Your Majesty, trust only me.”

“Of course. I trust you without a doubt.”

Romandro, witnessing this warm moment after so long, had tears in his eyes. He dabbed at them with his sleeve and comforted Ian.

“Ian, still, since it’s His Majesty’s kindness, wouldn’t you at least accept the title and the mansion in name?”

“Please, Ian. For my sake.”

“That’s out of the question. I truly don’t want them.”

Ian smiled more brightly than ever.

“No one around will say anything. If I were a duke, I might have accepted for the sake of His Majesty’s dignity.”

Jin and Romandro both hesitated. There was a sharp edge to Ian’s words—he implied the honor wasn’t worth the dignity, and it almost sounded like he was asking for a dukedom instead of a countship.

Ian tilted his head as if puzzled.

“Please don’t misunderstand, Your Majesty.”

“Ah, of course.”

“I have no attachment to titles. In fact, I intend to relinquish the Hielo domain.”

“Relinquish? Why?”

The sudden confession stunned Jin and Romandro. Their earlier hesitation vanished as they focused entirely on Ian’s words. Ian wielded his rhetoric without hesitation, shaking those around him to their core.

“Because I neglected the Hielo territory, that tragedy happened before, didn’t it? If I’m to continue handling affairs from the capital, I think it’s only right to let Hielo find a new lord and move on.”

His voice was slightly subdued. Ian didn’t find his own words unfamiliar. It reminded him of when he first opened his eyes in Bratz, when he was pretending to face Derga—that same feeling stirred within him.

The only difference was a faint, uncomfortable ache somewhere deep inside.

“Your concerns aren’t without merit, but…” Jin trailed off. Someone willing to return their fiefdom wouldn’t truly hold onto the title of duke in their heart. Ian’s earlier words were likely just a slip born of pain.

“I haven’t tended to the land for over ten years. The Chillyeo tribe in the Great Desert is still unsettled, but now that my sister has taken the leadership, there’s no need to worry about invasions or unrest.”

In other words, there was no longer any reason for Ian Hielo to remain the lord of that land.

“I’m the one who feels the loss more keenly,” Ian admitted.

“That’s alright. In exchange for returning the fief, I would like to receive the payment in a lump sum.”

“That’s something to discuss with Minister Quintana. For now, let’s gather our thoughts and take our time with the negotiations.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I was scheduled to attend the assembly this afternoon anyway.”

“With that condition?”

“Sitting isn’t too much of a strain. And since the Prime Minister isn’t present, it’s only right that I keep the seat.”

“There’s no one who cares for Bariel as much as you do, Ian.”

“You flatter me, Your Majesty.”

Ian bowed his head lightly in thanks for the praise. Then, casually, he asked about something he had only half-listened to earlier. There was so much to handle—truly, the remaining four months felt far too short.

“By the way, how is Xiaosi these days?”

“Xiaosi?”

“I’ve heard some pleasant rumors. About Lady Chloe.”

“Ah.”

Jin chuckled softly. It seemed something quite enjoyable had happened.

Ian smiled along, but his eyes subtly cooled. When Romandro glanced at him with concern, Ian nodded reassuringly. It was nothing—just fatigue, that was all.