Chapter 874
“Th-that’s—”
Philia stammered, and the man bathed in a radiant glow quietly studied her face. His gaze lingered on her shimmering golden hair.
Have I seen her somewhere before? Lost in thought, the man didn’t notice the assassin who had spotted an opening and once again drew his bowstring.
“Arrow!”
Ian shouted in alarm, but the man remained calm. With ease, he caught the arrow mid-flight and snapped it in two.
Throwing the broken arrow aside carelessly, the man muttered, “…Bandits, it seems.”
“Y-yes! Bandits!” Philia confirmed.
“Wait.”
Without hesitation, he strode toward the chaotic clash of swords.
Philia and Ian watched him, holding each other tightly. The scene was jarringly out of place—the air filled with screams and sprays of blood, yet his footsteps were unnervingly calm.
“Die!”
“Eek!”
One of the attackers climbed atop the fallen Romandro, raising his sword high. The blade’s sharp tip aimed straight for Romandro’s neck.
But at that moment—
Thwack!
“Ugh!”
The man’s fist slammed into the attacker’s side, lifting him off the ground and sending him tumbling several meters away.
Romandro looked up at him with moist eyes. Was he even human? That wasn’t the sound of a normal punch.
Thud!
“W-what’s going on—”
“That one’s a different species! Take him down first!”
“Damn it, we never agreed to this! Everyone, attack!”
Seeing their comrade felled in a single blow, the bandits realized this man was no ordinary foe. They split left and right, rushing at him, but he leisurely shrugged off his robe.
Rustle.
Beneath it, his massive, bronze-skinned frame was revealed. The bandits, who had charged boldly, instinctively hesitated.
He seemed to beckon them on, stepping up to close the distance.
Snap!
With a single leap, he was suddenly right in front of them. He didn’t even seem to care that they were armed with swords.
He ducked under a swinging blade, grabbed his opponent by the hair, and slammed him to the ground.
Crack!
“Ugh!”
Smack!
Romandro, watching, covered his face as if his own nose hurt more than the victim’s.
“Oof!”
This time, the man’s strike landed squarely on the attacker’s chest. Romandro clutched his own chest, stiffening as if struggling to breathe.
Crunch!
“Ah! That ankle’s gone!”
In the blink of an eye, the bronze-skinned man had wiped out dozens of bandits. He glanced back at Romandro with a look that said, “What kind of reaction is that?”
Brushing his hands off, he picked up his robe again. The magic department staff swarmed over, binding the bandits’ limbs with ropes.
“Th-thank you!”
“Tie them up and lay them aside!”
“Injured, please raise your hand!”
“Wait! The injuries are severe! Doctors, over here!”
Fortunately, the doctors were with them, so treatment began immediately. The healers gathered around the magic department staff and porters, opening their medical kits.
“……”
The man wrapped the robe around himself again, preparing to leave.
Philia approached, holding Ian.
“Um, thank you. Are you hurt anywhere?”
“I’m fine.”
“Oh, but you have a cut here…”
Philia hurriedly rummaged through her bag, looking for some emergency herbs. Meanwhile, Ian tugged on the man’s arm, signaling him to sit down, and he reluctantly lowered himself to the ground.
“Thank you for saving me. I am Ian Hadel of Hadelga.”
“So you’re a noble. No wonder you carry yourself differently. I am—”
The man hesitated slightly at Philia’s touch. A subtle tension passed between them, and Ian blinked in surprise, tilting his head.
“Malatai’s Nersarn.”
“Nersarn. You don’t seem to be from Bariel.”
“…I’m from Cheonryeo.”
“Cheonryeo?”
Ian’s eyes searched his face, as if wary of any disdain toward barbarians. But instead, he asked with genuine curiosity.
“Are all Cheonryeon people as strong as you? That’s incredible. Where is it exactly?”
“It lies east of Bariel, at the heart of the great desert bordering the Enlow territory. But please, speak freely.”
“That’s not possible. You saved my life.”
The treatment was quick. His injuries were minor, considering he had taken on nearly fifty enemies alone.
Philia finished wrapping the bandages and stood, then hurried off to help elsewhere. Nersarn watched her retreating figure intently.
“Nersarn?”
“…Yes?”
“But what’s happening in Bariel?”
Snapping back to attention, Nersarn answered.
“The funeral of the Cheonryeo chieftain just concluded recently. I came to Bariel to deliver his final will.”
“A will?”
“Yes. He ordered that his death be reported directly to the royal palace. Normally, the allied Enlow would handle such reports, but he must have had his reasons. I believe that.”
Nersarn still didn’t understand the chieftain’s intentions. Why did he have to go to the palace himself?
But the chieftain was a seer, the spiritual guide of the Cheonryeo, and a great leader who saved his people from near extinction. Surely, there was meaning behind it all. So Nersarn was on his way to the palace.
“So we share the same destination.”
“You’re going to the palace too, Ian?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Nersarn hesitated, gripping the reins. After a long pause, as if struggling to say something, he cautiously asked,
“About that woman just now…”
“Who? Philia?”
“Yes, Philia. Is she your mother?”
“No way. Philia is alone.”
The child’s straightforward answer cleared the doubt.
Nersarn’s expression remained unchanged, but Ian quickly sensed his mood and smiled slyly.
“If you don’t mind, would you like to travel together to the capital? It’s not far, but I worry more bandits might appear.”
“…I don’t mind.”
“That’s good. Then, just a moment.”
Ian approached Romandro, who was inspecting the bound bandits. All of them were unconscious from Nersarn’s blows; none were left standing.
“Crazy bastards. Did they really think they could take this carriage by force?!”
“Romandro, no one’s listening.”
“That’s why I’m yelling. Ahem.”
“Um, Romandro.”
“Ah! Ian! Are you alright?”
Ian tugged on Romandro’s sleeve and gestured for a quiet word. Romandro, puzzled, followed him toward the bushes.
“What is it?”
“Romandro, listen carefully. I think those bandits were after me.”
“Huh?”
Romandro crouched down, listening intently.
“Didn’t you hear what they said earlier?”
“…Where is that one?”
“We never agreed to this…”
Amid the chaos, Romandro and the others hadn’t caught those words, but Ian had. He even saw who said them.
“Why would they want Ian…”
Romandro was baffled. He was just a five-year-old child. Assassination? Why would bandits risk their lives for that?
Ian fidgeted, as if unsure whether to tell Romandro.
“Oh my goodness!”
Wheeeet!
At that moment, guards suddenly appeared nearby, blowing their whistles. It was strange. They had been told a carriage hijacking was “in progress,” so why were the bandits already captured?
Romandro waved his hand, calling out.
“Ah! Guards!”
“What’s going on here?”
“What’s going on? We were ambushed on the road. If not for that recluse over there, we’d all be dead! Which guard unit is responsible for this area? They should have wiped out these bandits long ago!”
Romandro pointed at Nersarn. The guards stared in disbelief. The man was standing alone, lifting the overturned carriage. What the hell? What kind of monster is this?
“S-sorry. We’ll take the bandits into custody for investigation and punishment. The village isn’t far; if you need help, we can move together.”
“Hmm.”
Romandro glanced at the doctors. Several were already dead, and many more needed urgent surgery.
There was no choice. They’d have to stay in the village overnight, find a new driver, and repair the carriage.
“Very well. But—”
Romandro turned to the guards with a request.
“I’d like to conduct a preliminary investigation of these bandits first.”
“Excuse me? You? Who are you?”
“Sorry for the late introduction. I am Romandro of the Magic Department.”
When Romandro handed over his business card, the guards scowled, clearly displeased. He wasn’t an investigator or anything official—just some low-level Ministry of Magic employee—who did he think he was, overstepping his bounds like this?
As the guards’ mood stiffened, Romandro subtly jabbed them in the waist.
“There’s something a bit off here. I like the way you’re handling the observation, though.”
“…I’ll report this to my superior.”
“Good. I’d appreciate that.”
Romandro winked at Ian. Just as Ian had suspected, the bandit attack might have been orchestrated by someone. This was definitely something that needed investigating. Ian smiled brightly and nodded.
“All right! Let’s get the injured back to the village first!”
The guards loaded the captured bandits onto the horses, and Nersarn reattached the missing wheel to the carriage, giving it a light tap. Once they pulled in the ropes the bandits had strung up to block the road, the carriage moved forward again.
“Sir Crony! Sir Crony!”
Bang!
Crony, who had been sitting on the sofa reading, frowned and turned around. What was all the commotion? Annoyance bubbled up inside him. Calls like this always brought unexpected bad news.
As he turned, one of the group rushed in, looking flustered.
“There’s a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“Ian Hadel was attacked by a bandit gang and has been moved to a nearby village.”
Clink. The sound of a teacup being set down sharply. Crony’s eyes sharpened, glinting with a cold, cutting light as if blades had taken their place.
Are you kidding me? That can’t be the report.
“Moved to a nearby village?”
No, that can’t be right. It should be, “The guards found Ian Hadel’s body after the bandit attack.”
But the group scratched their heads helplessly.
“It seems they got help from some passing mercenaries nearby. There were some casualties among the coachmen and others, but Ian Hadel is unharmed.”
“…Is that so?”
When they’d hired the bandits, they’d disguised their identities. It wouldn’t be uncovered immediately, but with time, the truth would come out.
Crony snapped his book shut and stood up.
“It’s a relief to hear my uncle is safe. I’ll go see him myself. Bring me a horse.”