Chapter 883
Count Jacques placed his hands gently on the shoulders of the two children, a warm smile spreading across his face.
As his thoughts drifted to the future of these small, adorable children—and how their futures were intertwined with Bariel’s—he felt a mix of hopeful anticipation and a twinge of sorrow.
“Barsabe.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
“Ian Hadel is the youngest and the first noble-born mage. He is also a direct branch of the royal family. Show him proper respect and treat him with sincerity.”
“A mage? Him?”
Barsabe’s eyes widened in disbelief as she glanced between Ian and her grandfather. She’d heard rumors of a new mage appearing somewhere, but to think it was this little kid! And the youngest? The first? A royal branch? What was all this?
Seeing Barsabe’s stunned expression, Ian looked back calmly, clearly not understanding what the fuss was about.
“And Ian Hadel.”
“Yes, Count.”
“Our Barsabe has already awakened her talent as a magic swordsman and is currently training. You know the Imperial Guard and the Magic Department work closely together, right?”
“I heard that from Captain Hertzi.”
“Ah, so you’ve met Hertzi. Both of you will be spending a long time at the palace, so I hope you get along well and set a good example for each other.”
“Of course. Sister, please teach me a lot from now on.”
“Call me ‘sister,’ not ‘noona’!”
“Yes, sister.”
Despite all the grand titles, Ian seemed surprisingly obedient. Barsabe’s wary gaze softened a bit as she studied the boy, and Ian suddenly let out a small exclamation, as if he’d just remembered something.
“By any chance, do you also attend the Central Enerjes Academy, Barsabe noona?”
“That’s right.”
“I’ll be enrolling soon, too.”
“What? You?”
She thought there were no magic students at the academy. After all, magic users usually went straight to the Magic Department, not the academy. If Ian’s words were true, he’d be an unprecedented student.
“This is going to get noisy.”
“Huh?”
“When will you come?”
“Well, I have a lot to take care of right now.”
He meant the inheritance and tax issues. Count Jacques caught the meaning behind Ian’s words and offered help.
“Do you have anyone to assist you? If not, we can assign someone from our side.”
“I appreciate the offer, but the Magic Department has already promised to help.”
“The Magic Department?”
“Yes, specifically Romandro.”
“Ah, Romandro.”
Jacques stroked his beard thoughtfully. That man was trustworthy—loyal and dependable. He glanced at Ian’s expression and decided to probe a little.
“What about Sir Crony?”
The moment Crony’s name came up, Ian’s face visibly stiffened. He had been quite friendly just moments ago.
Jacques noticed the change immediately, and Barsabe looked back and forth between Ian and her grandfather, puzzled.
“Why do you ask about Sir Crony?”
“I heard he was at the mansion when the incident happened. Though distant, he’s family by blood and could have helped with the inheritance. Did he say nothing at all?”
“He offered help, but I declined.”
“Why?”
Ian hesitated. Why? Because that man had killed his father and mother—and worse, tried to swallow the entire Hadel family.
But he couldn’t reveal all that just yet. Ian didn’t even know who Count Jacques really was.
“The Magic Department offered help first. Honestly, I barely had any dealings with Sir Crony, so to me, the Magic Department and his side are the same. I thought it better to accept help from the Magic Department, where I will be serving, since it carries more authority.”
Ian calmly recited the excuse he had rehearsed countless times in his head.
“That way, someday I can repay the Magic Department’s kindness.”
A reasonable excuse, a fitting reason. Count Jacques nodded knowingly. He didn’t want to press further and risk alienating the boy.
“Very well. As I said, if you ever need anything, just say the word. You don’t owe me any favors.”
Jacques smiled faintly, and Barsabe raised her eyebrows in surprise. He wasn’t a stern grandfather, but he wasn’t so soft and easygoing either. Was he being too kind to a child he’d just met?
“Thank you.”
“All right. For now, rest. You must be tired from everything. I’ve already sent the others to their rooms, so don’t worry. Barsabe.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
“You’ll show Ian around.”
Annoying, but there was no avoiding it. It seemed the grandfather wanted them to get along. Barsabe nodded and gestured for Ian to follow. Ian bowed politely to Count Jacques before leaving the parlor.
creak
The door closed behind them. Jacques sipped his now lukewarm tea and thought of his disciple, Jeria. It had been over five years since he last saw him—before Ian was born—and his face was already fading from memory.
“Jeria… you truly raised a fine son.”
Seeing Ian brought his memories into sharp focus.
He sighed, recalling Ian’s reaction to the mention of Crony. The boy had clearly noticed something.
‘Crony’s involvement in his parents’ deaths.’
Though Ian showed great talent as a mage, he was only five years old and just arrived in the capital. Could he really stand against Crony? No. Absolutely not.
Count Jacques watched Ian and Barsabe cross the estate grounds and muttered to himself.
“Jeria, I will take your revenge. I won’t let your son’s hands be stained with blood. That will be the last gift I can give.”
A child should be a child. There was no need for him to be consumed by vengeance so early, tarnishing his bright years.
“Revenge is a choice, not a fate to be entangled in.”
That was Jacques’ philosophy. Life and revenge intertwined, the head of an enemy was nothing more than a piece of meat—something Ian would come to understand someday.
knock knock
“Count.”
“You’re back, Alexer.”
creak
The butler Alexer entered, bowing his head. He had been dispatched to Onryhol to handle the aftermath of the Hadel family tragedy. He handed over a report.
“As expected, the bandits were hired by someone. However, we haven’t found direct evidence yet—”
“What about Crony’s reaction?”
“After young master Ian went to the capital, he immediately returned to Hadel.”
“Blatant, isn’t it? As if daring us to see. Assign people to watch him closely, no gaps.”
“Yes, Count.”
thud
Crony was currently an officer in the Imperial Defense Department. The relationship between the Jacques family—longtime producers of magic swordsmen with close ties to the Imperial Guard—and the Defense Department was complicated, to say the least.
The Imperial Guard and the Defense Department—
Though they appeared friendly on the surface, these two military forces responsible for the emperor’s safety constantly kept each other in check.
‘Fierce, indeed…’
Though Crony was just an officer, not a minister or deputy minister, Jacques sensed his rise was unusual. Something was bound to happen at the palace soon.
And it would surely affect the Imperial Guard, who prioritized the emperor’s safety, in some way.
‘Better to deal with it before it grows.’
clink
‘I wonder if Crony thinks the same.’
Ian Hadel. So young, yet wielding tremendous power. If Crony truly reached out to the Hadel lord and lady, it was clear he intended to eliminate Ian before he grew stronger.
Jacques raised his teacup and gave his butler an order.
“Assign a shadow to follow Ian Hadel for the time being.”
“Yes, Count.”
If the family’s finest knight protected Ian, that would ease some worries. Jacques set down his cup, feeling the matter settled for now.
“This is the central corridor. To the right are the banquet hall and the annex used by the servants. To the left is the guest room where you’ll be staying. There’s also a passage from the second-floor stairs that leads directly to the training grounds.”
Barsabe kindly explained the layout of the mansion to Ian, who followed her closely. The place was so vast and complicated that one explanation wouldn’t be enough, but for now, he was a guest—and their grandfather had told them to get along.
Barsabe suddenly turned her head and asked,
“What’s that place over there?”
Ian hesitated, then grinned.
“That’s the annex with five floors, used as storage. It’s full of old, rusty weapons, so I was told to be careful. They also said it’s best not to go in, sister.”
“…You were paying attention.”
“Of course. I was focused.”
Hmm. Just once, and he remembered well? Barsabe was a little surprised but led the way again.
Come to think of it, there’s a claim that mages are especially smart. Barsabe never believed it.
‘The last time I saw the Magic Department people, they all seemed weird. And what? Mages are smart, magic swordsmen the opposite, and their personalities are strange? Hah, where do these rumors even come from? I’ve never met a magic swordsman like that.’
The fathers and their comrades Barsabe knew were all meticulous, wise, and kind—people to learn from. If anything, the mages seemed stranger, when you really thought about it.
“Sister?”
“What are you thinking about?” Ian asked quietly as he approached. Barsabe shook his head and changed the subject.
“There’s a lot to prepare before entering the academy.”
“Romandro will probably help you.”
“Are you kidding? I’m not talking about supplies.”
“Oh? Then what?”
Barsabe crossed his arms in disbelief, then suddenly made a lightning-fast move, aiming for the space between Ian’s eyebrows.
Swish!
“…!”
It was an incredibly swift strike. The edge of Barsabe’s hand barely grazed Ian’s brow as he added,
“The academy’s a place where you have to survive on your own.”
“Isn’t it a place to study?”
“Well, yeah, that too… but if you enroll as you are, you’ll get beaten up right away. Do you know how many weirdos there are at the academy?”
“Uh… Romandro said that’s not true.”
Ian opened and closed his palm, still feeling the sharp sting of the lightning bolt that had just sparked from his hand.
“What does that guy know?”
“That guy? You mean me, miss?”
“Kyaaa!”
When Romandro peeked his head around the corner, Barsabe jumped back in fright and fled down the hallway. Romandro looked at Barsabe with slightly hurt eyes.
“I’m not exactly an old man yet, you know.”
“Enough! Ian Hadel, come with me to the training grounds! Change your clothes and get ready! Got it?”
Barsabe shouted that and disappeared around the corner.
Romandro opened the door for Ian, inviting him in. The boy trudged inside and collapsed onto the sofa. After meeting with Count Jacques, all his tension had finally melted away.
“Going to the training grounds, young master?”
“Yeah… I guess I should go…”
Hana had already passed out from exhaustion. It had been a long, grueling day since they’d encountered the bandits. Ian rubbed his face and nodded off on the sofa, while Romandro rummaged through a bag of clothes, seemingly unaware.
“Training clothes, hmm. Ah, this should do nicely. Ian—”
“Want to try this on?” Romandro smiled and turned around, but Ian was already fast asleep, sprawled out just as he was.
“Huh?”
How did he fall asleep so quickly? Romandro gently lifted Ian and laid him on the bed, then carefully wiped his face and hands with a handkerchief.
“You did well today.”
Despite Romandro’s words, Ian only let out a soft snore, his mouth slightly open.
The bedroom light went out. Romandro quietly left the room to return to his own. Then—
“Ha! Haah! Ian Hadeeel! Why aren’t you coming?!”
The sharp shouts echoed from the training grounds behind the mansion, loud and full of energy. It was definitely Barsabe.
“Bariel’s future is bright. Yes, bright indeed.”
Romandro turned around, tugging at his mustache. ‘Old man,’ huh… It was all because of this guy. He wondered whether to just push him away once and for all.