Chapter 878

“What? You said you’d come tomorrow just a moment ago! Are you kidding me?”

Minister of Magic, Arena, tossed the report onto the table with a thud.

The other wizards grumbled in response, wondering what was going on. After all, they had cleared their schedules because the first noble mage of Bariel was supposed to arrive.

“We went through all this trouble preparing, and you said you’d come tomorrow. So we wrapped things up to handle other tasks, and now you’re saying you’ve already arrived?”

“This is quite the way to start things off.”

“I can see how this is going to go.”

“Minister, what should we do? The report we just submitted was supposed to be finalized by the end of the day. If it’s delayed, the administration will be on our case.”

“Ugh, seriously.”

Arena tugged at her tangled green hair, frowning deeply.

“It’s their fault for changing the schedule. Tell them to go straight to the main palace and pay their respects to His Majesty first, then come to the Ministry of Magic.”

“To His Majesty?”

Was it standard procedure for a magic user to have an audience with the emperor? The wizard’s voice trailed off in confusion, and Arena waved her pen sharply.

“Ian Hadel. He’s a noble, and recently lost his parents. Courtesy comes first. After visiting the main palace, have him wait a bit. It’s the end of the month—everyone’s swamped.”

“Understood.”

“Honestly, I thought it was strange from the start when he said he’d come tomorrow just because he ran into a few thieves. Two hours away, and he’s making such a fuss.”

Thieves? Unless they were armed with supernatural powers, no matter how many came, a single mage could easily handle them.

Muttering in frustration, Arena was met with protests from the wizards.

“Come on, Minister. He’s only five years old.”

“That’s right. He doesn’t even know how to cast a proper spell. How could he stand up to thieves?”

“Oh? And where did all those grumblers go just now?”

Arena slammed the file on the desk, incredulous. Isn’t it an unspoken rule to pick sides when gossiping?

The wizards shrugged and returned to their report writing.

“Look, that’s one thing, but this is another. Sure, the schedule might change if thieves show up, but if he said he’d come tomorrow, he should have come tomorrow.”

“Romandro isn’t the type to be unreasonable, so there must be a good reason. But the more I think about it, the more annoying it gets.”

“Ugh. So, where are we going for the newbie welcome party later? Let’s grab some honey beer—it’s been a while. They’ve got new chicken skewer flavors.”

“Ian Hadel, five years old! Five years old!”

Are they crazy? Arena shook her head in disbelief. But after a moment, she sighed and set the file down.

“Don’t get your hopes up until we confirm he’s really a magic user. Premature excitement is the problem. Who started these rumors anyway?”

Rumors about Ian Hadel were rampant inside and outside the palace. From the sudden death of the Hadel lord and lady to the revelation that their five-year-old heir was a magic user—none of it had precedent, making it perfect fodder for gossipmongers.

“Ahem.”

“Clears throat!”

The wizards, feeling a bit guilty, coughed awkwardly and slipped out of the office.

Soon, news came that Romandro’s carriage had entered the palace grounds, and the wizards sprang into action.

---

“Wow.”

Ian’s forehead seemed glued to the carriage window. The road from the palace gates to the main palace stretched straight ahead, flanked by splendid gardens.

As Ian’s forehead reddened from the pressure, Hana gently pulled the child away and rubbed it softly.

“It’s your first greeting. Having a squished forehead would look silly.”

“It doesn’t hurt. Romandro, we’re heading straight to the Ministry of Magic, right?”

“Yes, well… we were planning to, but there seems to be a problem. When we arrived, we were told to pay respects at the main palace first.”

“Pay respects at the main palace?”

“That means meeting His Majesty the Emperor.”

“His Majesty the Emperor?”

Ian looked surprised, as if it hadn’t occurred to him. Since seeing the flying mages, his focus had been solely on the Ministry of Magic.

Romandro pressed a handkerchief to his temple, clearly nervous.

“You’ll be offering condolences for the passing of Lord and Lady Hadel. I’ve only met His Majesty from afar, so I don’t know much about him. But he’s a very kind man. Don’t be too nervous—hic! Let’s not get worked up!”

Romandro’s encouragement was met with simultaneous looks of disbelief from Hana and Ian. Anyone could tell Romandro was the most nervous of all.

Ian muttered quietly as he gazed at the approaching main palace building.

“…But you know.”

Why does this feel so familiar?

The grand, imposing building and landscaping should be overwhelming, yet somehow, Ian felt at ease. Like a sense of déjà vu, as if returning after a long journey.

Click.

Ian’s eyes sparkled as a guard opened the carriage door.

“Welcome, Romandro. Is this your carriage?”

“Yes. This is Ian Hadel, a magic user and heir of the Hadel family. This is his caretaker.”

“Yes. Since this bears the seal of Count Jacques’ family, I verified it formally. You may proceed. The steward is waiting.”

Passing the guard’s respectful salute, Romandro took Ian’s hand and climbed the stairs. The grand white central staircase was breathtaking.

Looking up, Ian thought again.

‘Definitely familiar.’

Not just the stairs, but especially the feeling of holding someone’s hand while ascending.

Inside the main palace, as the steward had said, the steward awaited them. Palace staff bustled about, but many glanced at Ian.

“Welcome, Ian Hadel.”

“P-pleased to meet you.”

“His Majesty is resting in his chambers. This way.”

Ian had heard the emperor was unwell. It must be true. Dinner time was near, yet he hadn’t left his bed. Either he was too exhausted or truly ill. Whatever the case, he was clearly not in good health.

As they turned several corners, portraits lined the walls. Ian flinched in surprise, and Romandro whispered.

“These are portraits of the previous emperors.”

Ian examined each painting with fascination, noting the different styles and the marks of time. Then, he stopped before one.

‘This person…’

A massive scar ran across the face. Silver hair, cold blue eyes, a steady gaze fixed forward—the portrait of an emperor.

Ian read the name beneath.

“…Jin Verosion.”

Jin Verosion. The one who enacted the Special Protection Act for Magic Users, known as the “Iron-Blooded Emperor,” who led Bariel’s golden age.

Ian stared at the portrait for a long time, speechless. Perhaps because this emperor had freed him from Crony’s curse, a wave of gratitude surged through him.

Noticing Ian’s trance, the steward added,

“He was the grandfather of the current emperor. A remarkable man. His regal presence is truly impressive, isn’t it?”

“Yes, truly magnificent. I can’t take my eyes off him. But what about the scar on his face?”

“That was a symbol of the emperor’s authority back then. Young Master Ian, I’m sorry, but shall we move on? His Majesty’s evening schedule is tight.”

“Oh! Sorry.”

“No problem. You can admire the portraits later.”

Ian bowed apologetically, and the steward smiled. They hurried to the emperor’s chambers.

Knock, knock.

“Your Majesty, Ian Hadel of House Hadel has arrived.”

“…Let him in.”

Creak.

The door opened, and a sweet fragrance wafted out. Ian immediately recognized it.

The spacious bedroom held a solitary bed and a large window leading outside. Beyond it, a small garden with a large tree—the source of the scent.

‘A peach tree. Definitely.’

“Are you Ian Hadel?”

A dry voice. Ian snapped to attention and bowed respectfully.

The emperor lay propped up in bed, appearing about the same age as Ian’s father, but pale and gray-haired from illness.

“I offer my respects, Your Majesty. I am Ian Hadel.”

“Indeed. Despite your youth, your intelligence shines brightly. Come closer.”

Ian cautiously approached the bed. The emperor smiled, deep wrinkles forming around his eyes.

“I have heard of the tragedy that befell House Hadel. Yet I could not comfort you sooner, as the medicine left me dazed.”

The emperor himself, and the palace.

Ian bowed slightly to show he understood.

“Please do not trouble yourself. I am deeply grateful for your kindness.”

The emperor smiled faintly, but it was weak, like a deflating balloon.

“A magic user, you say.”

“…Yes, Your Majesty.”

Ian lowered his head awkwardly. Romandro stepped forward to explain further.

“Your Majesty, I am Romandro from the Ministry of Magic. I intend to double-check, but during the initial examination, the Light of Prophecy was clearly manifested. To ensure full confidence, I was considering gathering testimonies from others—”

“No.”

The emperor waved his hand dismissively.

“There’s no need for such formalities. The time has finally come.”

Time? Ian looked up at the emperor, but he offered no further explanation.

The emperor stared straight ahead for a long moment, lost in thought, before turning back to Ian.

“…Child.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Welcome to the palace.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you know I have no living children?”

Though he had fathered three, all had been lost to accidents and illness. Since then, he had no heir, and with each passing day, his authority grew more precarious. Without blood relatives to check the power-hungry nobles, he was forced to watch silently as they schemed for the throne.

Ian shook his head, clearly unsure.

“I’m glad to have you here in the palace. And to think you’re a mage blessed by the gods. Though you’re from a collateral branch, never forget that we share the same blood.”

At the emperor’s words, Romandro pressed his lips tightly shut. The emperor was clearly trying to make young Ian his shield. To stand against the scheming nobles sharpening their blades, Ian—noble, mage, and a member of the royal collateral line—was the perfect candidate.

‘So, basically, the message is: if you want the throne, you’ll have to get past Ian Hadel first? Using the child as a distraction while His Majesty enjoys a peaceful life in the palace…’

No, that was a leap. Romandro rubbed his eyelids, telling himself not to entertain such futile thoughts.

Ian pondered the emperor’s words carefully before asking, “What do you mean by ‘the time has come’?”

“Ah. There’s something I heard from the elders when I was your age.”

The emperor sighed dryly, lost in memory.

“There are many secrets passed down quietly within the royal family. Most are beyond the understanding of ordinary people. Ancient laws like the Special Protection Act for Magic Users, and taboos like the prohibition against cutting down those fragrant peach trees…”

Ian followed the emperor’s gaze to the tree outside. Who would want to cut down something so beautiful?

The emperor wiped his dry hands a few times, then glanced subtly at the chamberlain. He was signaling that he was tired and that the child should be excused.

“We’ll talk more in detail later. There’s plenty of time.”