Chapter 823
Ian stared out the carriage window for a long while, clearly lost in heavy, tangled thoughts.
Even when Romandro asked whether Ian had officially received permission to leave the palace, or where he planned to stay from now on, Ian remained silent.
The carriage cut through the darkness, traveling for quite some time before finally arriving at their destination—the residence of the Abel Trading Company, where Romandro had been purchasing mana stones.
“What business do you have here? This is the Abel Trading Company’s headquarters,” a guard approached warily, clearly on alert at the unexpected visit.
Romandro glanced at Ian, who had no explanation for why they had come—he’d just said to come, so they came.
Ian rolled down the window and gave the name of a fictitious contact Romandro had come up with.
“Eli Wagner. Here to collect the mana stones we ordered.”
“Excuse me? At this hour?”
“Is there a problem?”
“No, no problem. But the company head is currently out. If you didn’t make an appointment, you’ll have to wait.”
The head of the company, Abel, had been summoned urgently to the palace. By now, he was likely deep in a heated meeting with Quintana and Kyla, discussing the monopoly on mana stones.
But Ian merely nodded as if this worked out perfectly.
“We’ve already paid in full. We’re just here to pick up the goods. I have no intention of meeting the company head or making small talk.”
“Uh…”
“Is the Abel Trading Company just a hole-in-the-wall run by the head and two guards? If this is how you operate, I’d rather cancel the deal.”
Ian’s tone implied there must be a proxy for situations like this, and they shouldn’t be so difficult. The guard realized his mistake, gave a quick salute, and apologized.
“No, of course not. Please, come inside.”
Ian strode into the building, followed by the guard. The sudden arrival roused the company’s staff, who lit lanterns as they woke.
A moment later, the deputy director—the company’s proxy—greeted Ian with a puffy, tired face.
“Hello, uh, good evening, Mr. Eli Wagner. I apologize, I just woke up, so my voice is… not at its best.”
The deputy was about to add that his voice sounded terrible but blinked in confusion.
Wait a minute. Was he still half-asleep? That striking blonde hair, green eyes, the impressive appearance, and the quality of the clothes… no matter how you looked at it, this was Ian Hielro himself.
“Are you perhaps the Minister of Magic?”
“And the goods?”
“Gasp!”
He didn’t deny it. What was going on? The deputy’s eyes darted around in panic.
The company head was absent, summoned to the palace to discuss measures to curb the Ministry of Magic’s influence. Yet here stood the Minister of Magic himself, under the alias Eli Wagner.
“Minister Ian,” the deputy stammered.
“Still waking up?”
Ian’s tone was sharper than usual, and Romandro noticed his mood was tense—something must have troubled him at the conference.
“We’ve paid you, and you just need to hand over the goods. I don’t understand why you’re stalling. If the items aren’t ready, say so quickly. I’m very tired right now.”
“No! The goods are all prepared!”
Ian Hielro was no ordinary man. Known as the absolute genius of the empire, the so-called sovereign of magic, he could have burned the entire trading company to ashes and no one could have stopped him—not even the emperor.
“This way, please.”
Ian followed the deputy down to the basement. The space was large, with boxes neatly stacked behind curtains, used solely for storage.
“Fifteen large boxes, regardless of the size of the Idgal. And two boxes of the high-grade and mid-grade mana stones you requested. We’ve sorted them by weight inside.”
Ian gestured, and the deputy opened the boxes to show him. Inside were amber-colored Idgal stones.
These were undoubtedly the byproducts of war, created by Ian’s own hands. There was no need to question their authenticity. Ian gave a quick glance and nodded as if satisfied.
“Where should we move them?”
“Destroy the Idgal here. The rest, send to the Ministry of Magic.”
“Excuse me?”
The deputy, closing the boxes, stared blankly as if he’d misheard. But Ian was firm.
“I said destroy the Idgal here.”
“Minister?”
“Assign some people. Grind them into fine powder and dispose of them. Since this is a trading company that handles mana stones, you should have the proper tools.”
Though it would take a long time to dispose of all the Idgal scattered across Gaia, at least the central stockpile would be cleared. Romandro nudged the stunned deputy.
“What are you doing? And you expect to be paid for this?”
Idgal was a special substance that nullified magic. As Minister of Magic, Ian had every right to order its disposal. But given the circumstances, it felt more like a deliberate act than a mere order.
After all, the palace was already tinkering with mana-sealing stones to keep the mages in check. Ian knew well that provoking and countering them left no other choice.
“No, I’m just surprised. You know how much this all costs, right? If there’s any misunderstanding in the delivery—”
“Misunderstanding? I bought these goods, so I’ll dispose of them. Who else would have a say?”
“Understood. I’ll prepare it.”
The deputy hurried outside under the moonlight, signaling to his subordinates.
“Send someone to the company head at the palace. Tell him Minister Ian has disposed of all the Idgal. This is no ordinary matter. And send some men down with the grinder.”
“Understood.”
Ian leaned against the wall, quietly waiting for the deputy. His gaze was fixed on the Idgal stones.
What was he thinking? Romandro couldn’t tell. It was deep and dark, as if he were mourning the Idgal fragments that would soon be reduced to dust.
“Ian.”
Romandro hesitated, then called his name with effort, as if trying to anchor him back to reality.
Ian’s darkness lifted as if it had been a lie.
“Once the Idgal is dealt with, Romandro, you should return to the mansion. I’ll stay at a nearby hotel.”
“Why? Come with me.”
“No, I really can’t.”
Ian smiled faintly.
“The rumor that I destroyed the Idgal will spread quickly. It will reach His Majesty’s ears. It could become the spark that unites the palace, shaken by the mana-sealing stone debate.”
“Ian, I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“I won’t return to the palace unless that debate is completely dropped. It’s a form of protest.”
Ian crossed his arms and sighed softly. Unexpected things had happened, but he was relieved that the bigger picture remained unchanged.
“Listen carefully, Romandro. This is the important part.”
“Now? What about everything before?”
“Tell the mages this: no matter what happens, they must not enter the palace.”
The mages, including Ian, couldn’t stay away forever. Soon, the palace would order their return. When that time comes, they must absolutely not go.
“Make sure they know this is my direct order.”
“Understood.”
Even if they were later punished for disobeying the return order, it would be clear it was on the minister’s command, protecting the mages from blame.
Ian felt the real ‘event’ was just around the corner.
“If they find out the mages aren’t returning because of my order, the palace will have no choice but to dismiss me.”
If Ian were dismissed, everything would proceed naturally. He would loudly proclaim his innocence, and the nobles would watch the situation quietly.
“At that moment, I just need to drop a small hint.”
That he could not accept the palace’s choice. That he was still strong, and this was clearly the palace’s mistake.
Then, surely, nobles who sympathized would reach out to him.
“Those who value the realm’s stability over royal dignity, but secretly harbor knives in their hearts.”
Ian would gather them all, march into the palace, and hand them over to the emperor.
Then Jin would crush the rebellious mages and nobles, solidify his power, and Ian would rise as the iron-fisted emperor he knew he could be. Then everything would…
“Here’s the grinder.”
“Good.”
Are you really going to destroy all these precious stones? The company staff asked again with their eyes, but Ian was resolute. Reluctantly, they began moving the Idgal boxes.
“Romandro, once you’re back at the mansion, try not to go outside if you can help it.”
“What about you, Ian?”
“I’ll handle my own affairs.”
Ian smiled faintly, as if amused by all the worries.
“By the way, where is Lady Melania?”
“She’s probably not at the mansion.”
“Hm? That can’t be. I haven’t heard anything.”
“She’s a smart woman. She knows she has nothing to gain by staying. She must have left long ago, hiding away, waiting for another chance.”
Could it really be true? Romandro was curious, but he quickly shrank back, covering his ears as the sound of Idgal crumbling filled the air.
Grrrrrk! Grkk!
Uddddd!
Ian watched closely as Idgal turned to fine dust, not a speck left behind, hoping it would drift away somewhere in the world.
“He’s gone.”
The palace guard’s report made Jin press his palm to his forehead. His hand was still wrapped in bandages, faint traces of blood seeping through.
“Are you certain?”
“The tavern owner said it wasn’t long ago. Eirin, who was on duty, went out sweeping the alley and then vanished without a trace.”
The owner, a sincere man, had tears streaming down his face, saying Eirin was a diligent worker and that disappearing like this was deeply suspicious and worrying.
They tried to find witnesses, but it was useless—no information came through. He had simply evaporated. In an instant.
“We’ll need more time to investigate thoroughly.”
“Hmph.”
Honestly, Jin had half-expected it to be a lie. He’d suspected that what Ian had handed over was just a tool to pressure each other, or a way to cover their own backs. Somewhere deep down, he had hoped it wasn’t true.
He felt conflicted. Not just that Eirin had disappeared, but that Ian had used it to his advantage. Was this really the Ian he knew? Could it be true?
‘Maybe if the war hadn’t ended…’
Would none of this have happened? Where had it all gone wrong? Jin remained silent, still pressing his forehead, while the guards exchanged looks of helpless sympathy.
Knock, knock.
“Your Majesty, the Prime Minister has arrived.”
The Prime Minister, who had been in seclusion, was summoned back. He bowed deeply to the emperor, then spoke with a tone of regret.
“My apologies, Your Majesty. The palace is in chaos, disturbing your peace—it is entirely my failing.”
“Spare me the formalities.”
Jin replied curtly. He hadn’t called him to exchange pleasantries, but to find a way to resolve the crisis.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but there is no way forward.”
“Such comforting words. It seems your seclusion was quite comfortable.”
“I’ve heard Minister Ian has left the palace. Once someone leaves, they rarely return easily. He won’t come back until his demands are met, and the mages will side with him. There is no way to defeat the mages who stand firm.”
The Prime Minister sank into a sofa, sighing before continuing.
“Therefore, I believe the only option is to dismiss Minister Ian and appoint a new head to rebuild the Magic Department—”
Jin frowned. Removing Ian from his post would be like letting the reins slip entirely. Was that truly the best course?
“No.”
He couldn’t pressure him like that. Jin knew Ian wasn’t someone to be handled so roughly.
“…We have to do the opposite.”
What did Ian hold dear?
Even with operations halted, he had ordered the mages not to be swayed by baseless commotion. He remained silent about his own authority but reacted strongly when it came to the Magic Department’s rights.
“Listen well. I hereby issue an imperial decree.”
The answer was simple. Just as Ian held Eirin, Jin would take control of the Magic Department. And if possible, it wouldn’t hurt to shake things up a little.
“To the Magic Department: anyone who refuses to follow the palace’s orders will be stripped of their position.”