Chapter 904
“Minister Arena, is something the matter?”
Why? Because I see exactly how this game is being played.
Kill the minister, cast suspicion on the vice minister, and take out both top dogs at once? Then send that damn Crony off to the north to create an alibi? These lunatics.
The words were choking in Arena’s throat, but she held them back. Damn it. She had expected the vice minister to be sidelined, but never imagined they’d kill the minister to seize control of the whole operation.
“Minister Arena?”
Her fingertips trembled as she barely managed to move her lips. She wanted to shout, but the words wouldn’t come. Who among them was secretly in league with Crony?
‘Damn bastards.’
Calming herself, Arena flexed her fingers and spoke.
“Even if Commander Crony wasn’t physically present at headquarters, that doesn’t exclude him from suspicion. Those who believe the vice minister is the culprit—do you really think he’s the type to stab Minister Sharto in the neck himself? So brazenly? There are too many inconsistencies here.”
The alibi was simple enough if an assassin was used. There’s no rule saying Crony had to do it personally.
But Crony would know that too. So someone must have taken steps to frame the vice minister…
‘Whoever did this really knows how to play the game.’
It was clear they intended to sweep aside both minister and vice minister in one swift move and take over the Imperial Defense Department.
Arena suddenly recalled Ian’s suspicion about Crony’s northern deployment. Ian’s instincts were remarkably sharp.
“Still, given the circumstances, isn’t the vice minister the most likely suspect? There are witnesses who say they argued. So it’s reasonable to appoint an interim minister who avoids anyone close to the vice minister. After all, Commander Crony is also on the opposing side.”
The officials nodded in agreement, but Arena’s mind was resolute.
‘Whoever fills the vacancy now doesn’t matter.’
Crony would soon be the supreme commander of the impending war. The most powerful military figure in the current crisis.
Though he’s supposedly heading north to end the conflict, who knows if he’s secretly colluding with the minority tribes or pointing his sword toward Bariel?
‘If he returns having ended the war…’
He’ll gain the emperor’s strong support, who has long opposed northern conquest. Crony will be trusted as the man who prevented war.
At that point, no one will care that Crony killed the minister. It will be a natural step for him to become head of the Imperial Defense Department.
“…How about appointing an interim minister but limiting their authority until the investigation concludes?”
To stop this, they must find proof that Crony is the mastermind. Only then can they prevent the situation from unfolding as he intends.
The officials exchanged hesitant glances.
“Minister, I understand your concerns, but limiting the Imperial Defense Department’s authority is not for us to decide.”
“If you find it difficult to appeal, I will personally bring this to His Majesty’s attention.”
“Well, if you insist, I won’t stop you…”
Seeing their displeasure, Arena suddenly blurted out,
“Why? Are you afraid the Imperial Defense Department might speak up?”
“Eh? No, no, that’s not what I meant!”
The officials protested loudly but no one outright denied it. The department was already in turmoil after the minister’s assassination; they would resent outside interference.
If one of them were later appointed as the official minister, it would make future relations awkward.
“Those who wish to sign on, please contact the Magic Department.”
Arena said this with little expectation, then added,
“And the assassination of Minister Sharto is a grave event shaking the empire’s order. To ensure a transparent and fair investigation, the Magic Department will assist.”
“The Magic Department?”
“Yes. They use truth-serum potions during suspect interrogations.”
That would quickly reveal the culprit and any hidden conspirators.
The officials had no real objections and nodded quietly. What a mess, just before the harvest festival—what a sacrilegious disaster.
“Well then.”
Arena rose from her seat, and the officials began to leave one by one, their minds racing. If Crony became head of the Imperial Defense Department, how would palace politics shift?
Undoubtedly, the court would split into two factions: those allied with Crony and those opposed.
“Minister Arena, is the meeting over?”
“Yes. Nothing much. Send me updates as they come in, and secure a supply of truth-serum potions. We’ll need plenty.”
“Understood. I’ll relay that.”
“I should have listened to Ian more carefully.”
“Hm?”
“Never mind. Let’s go.”
Ian’s suspicion about Crony’s northern deployment—it nagged at her. She had checked around, but never imagined things would escalate this far.
“Minister?”
“Hmm?”
Her aide climbed into the carriage, looking troubled.
“Ian Hadel has entered the palace.”
“What? I told him not to come.”
“Yes, I passed the message, but… His Majesty summoned him.”
“The emperor called for him?”
“He’s currently inside the main palace. What should we do?”
Why would the emperor summon Ian Hadel?
Normally, this could wait, but given the circumstances, Arena’s nerves tightened. She grabbed her head as if to tear it off, then sighed calmly.
“Prepare the reports.”
She intended to work from the carriage until Ian emerged.
“Here you go.”
Her aide handed over a file and pen, as if expecting this. Arena signed furiously while glancing repeatedly toward the palace entrance.
‘Even if the Imperial Defense Department takes over every other office, there are two places they can never touch: the Palace Guard and the Magic Department.’
The department alone couldn’t handle both at once. So…
‘They might try to take out one of them first.’
Damn it. Am I just going to stand by and watch? I’d rather find them first, kill them, and bite my tongue off.
Shaking her tangled thoughts, Arena flipped through the papers as if they might tear.
Ian stared out at the peach tree beyond the window.
The trees outside were stained red with the season’s change, but the lone tree here seemed evergreen.
Probably magic. A power that had been there for who knows how long—and might fade at any moment.
Creak.
The inner door opened, and the emperor appeared in his wheelchair. A soft blanket covered his knees, his gaze cast downward.
Ian stood at attention.
“Greetings, Your Majesty.”
“Hmm… So, Ian Hadel.”
The emperor was helped onto the bed by attendants, moving slowly and carefully.
Ian waited calmly until the emperor lay down. His frail fingers were covered by a thick quilt.
“You attend Enerjes, yes?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I’ve learned much there.”
“Any close friends? Companions?”
The emperor motioned for him to come closer, and an attendant brought a chair. Ian approached cautiously. The sick old man smelled faintly sweet.
“Yes. Good friends.”
“Good, that’s a relief.”
“But, forgive me, may I ask why you summoned me…?”
Ian glanced at the attendant, unsure if such a question was appropriate.
The attendant lowered his gaze, offering no response. The emperor was too focused on steadying his labored breath.
“Ian Hadel, I have something to ask.”
“Please, ask anything.”
The emperor looked down at Ian with faded eyes. Once the pinnacle of Bariel’s power, now a frail man confined to bed, unable to move alone. Ian found the contrast strangely poignant.
“You know I have no heirs.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“If I should pass, my position will likely be yours.”
“…!”
The suddenness made Ian step back, his heel scraping the chair with a harsh screech.
The emperor continued.
“Ian Hadel, you are of the royal bloodline, a noble, and the first magician among the aristocracy. Except for your youth, all would follow you without question.”
Youth was the only obstacle. The emperor cleared his throat and struggled on.
“And Ian, if you become emperor, someone will surely try to act as regent. You are a blessing from the gods; I do not worry for Bariel’s future. But the one who whispers in your ear—that is my grave concern.”
“Your Majesty, please do not speak so.”
At that moment, the emperor gripped Ian’s wrist with a dry but firm hand. The strength was surprisingly warm and steady. Looking him in the eye, the emperor made a request.
“So, when I grow old, whenever the time comes—when my health reaches its end—freeze me.”
“Frozen, you say?”
“Yes. It’s the path chosen by the first Emperor Bariel, and by my great-great-grandfather before me. If my death comes too soon, don’t hesitate—use magic to freeze my breath. You have that power.”
“B-but…”
Ian stammered, caught off guard. He didn’t know how to cast freezing magic, and even if he did, this wasn’t a decision he could make alone. Shouldn’t he discuss it with Minister Arena first?
But the Emperor shook his head.
“I’m asking you this because you carry the blessing of the imperial bloodline, passed down through generations.”
No one else could be trusted. Arena was a capable and remarkable mage, but they hadn’t shared a bond forged over years.
“Ian, do you understand what I’m saying?”
Train hard and grow quickly. When the time comes that my death threatens the royal family, use the freezing magic without delay.
“Only a very few by my side know this.”
Two attendants tidying the bedroom and the captain of the palace guard stood nearby. The Emperor pulled a small, round badge from a drawer and handed it to Ian.
“If something happens to me, this will be the signal.”
It was a kind of beacon. Ian took it with both hands, gripping it tightly with resolve.
“I’ve recorded everything about this. Captain Hertzi will explain the details. …Ian Hadel—”
The Emperor lay back down, murmuring softly. Tears welled in the deep lines around his eyes. Regret that he hadn’t been able to set Bariel right, mingled with relief that Ian Hadel was the last bastion, stirred a complex storm of emotions.
Still, the Emperor’s final words to Ian were clear.
“Trust no one. An Emperor must stand alone.”
“…I will remember.”
“Yes, I’m feeling sleepy now.”
At the Emperor’s words, an attendant approached to straighten the blankets. Ian was gently pushed back, and after a brief bow, he left the Emperor’s chamber.
‘This can’t be real.’
Me, the Emperor? The master of this palace? The thought was so overwhelming it felt like my head might explode.
Could I really do this? Could I walk the path that holds the future of Bariel—and all of Gaia—in my hands?
“Ian Hadel?”
A voice called from a distance. A man Ian had never seen before. Quickly, Ian slipped the badge into his pocket and looked up.
“Who are you?”
The man extended a gloved hand in greeting.
“Good day. I’m Soren, an officer of the Imperial Defense Department. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”