Chapter 912
Beyond the border stood a military camp. Inside, a massive round table was already surrounded by the chieftains of various minority tribes, each having arrived early and taken their seats.
Their interests were tangled and complicated, so they neither treated each other warmly nor with outright hostility. In front of Bariel, they were comrades, but among themselves, they were long-standing rivals and adversaries.
Shhh.
At that moment, Kroni entered the tent, leading his subordinates. The chieftains naturally rose from their seats. Kroni gestured for them to sit back down and took his place.
“Thank you all for agreeing to this sudden meeting.”
“Ahem. It’s no trouble at all.”
“With the situation changing so rapidly, wouldn’t it be wise to share our thoughts openly?”
Everyone exchanged cautious glances, each silently weighing when and how to voice their own positions.
The first to speak was the largest of the northern tribes, the Enzargal clan. Their chieftain, towering at eight feet tall, slouched awkwardly in his chair, clearly uncomfortable.
“So, when exactly do you plan to deliver the funds?”
True to his muscular, straightforward nature, he didn’t bother with subtlety. Yet, oddly enough, his bluntness was welcomed among the minority tribes at this moment.
The Imperial Defense Department had promised to provide funding and ordered soldiers to be brought to the northern region, but so far, it was all standoff with no exchanges. Were they just out for a stroll?
“Calling it ‘funds’ might be a bit much—”
Kroni lit a cigarette and corrected him.
“How about ‘mutual aid support’ instead?”
“Same difference. Tch. You said you’d give us money if we caused some trouble at the border, right? But there’s no timeline, and the people’s dissatisfaction is growing. At this rate, we’ll have no choice but to return home.”
“Now, now, please calm down. The Empire surely has its reasons.”
The Megetu tribe’s chieftain intervened. His face and body were covered in green paint, giving him a peculiar appearance, but he carried a faint scent of fresh grass.
Kroni forced down his disgust and flicked ash from his cigarette.
“Yes, I understand the wait has been long. I apologize for the delay. But great events always take time, don’t they? Please be generous, considering the Empire’s circumstances.”
“The Empire’s circumstances my foot,” the Enzargal chieftain snorted, turning his massive head sharply. His expression said it all: no more talks with these two-faced Empire folks.
At that moment, Kroni slid a sheet of paper across the table.
“But I’m glad to bring you good news. This just arrived via portal from the Empire—it means the funding channel has been opened.”
The joint guardianship application for Ian Hadel.
Kroni knew exactly what this meant. Ian’s father was likely dead, and this was a shallow ploy to conduct an autopsy.
Whether it was the work of that small-minded man or the cunning of that arrogant Arena woman, he didn’t know. What mattered was that a path had opened.
“Funding channel opened?”
“Yes. We can provide up to twice the promised amount.”
“Tw-twice?”
Why?
There had to be conditions. The chieftains swallowed hard, worried about what Kroni might demand.
“You’ll need to return to the center soon. This means clearing out this area quickly.”
“Are you kidding? We won’t move until we get the money—”
“Please, hear me out. Unless cutting in is part of your tribal customs.”
Kroni smiled faintly, a subtle warning: don’t act like barbarians; show some respect.
The Enzargal chieftain’s face flushed, but no one defended him. Twice the money was worth listening to.
“If you withdraw now, it will take over a month to return to the center. By then, we won’t be able to provide the promised compensation.”
“What? Why not?”
Kroni said nothing.
The moment he agreed to become Ian’s guardian, the autopsy would proceed. Frozen magic? Portals? The Magic Department wouldn’t cooperate, that was obvious. If the autopsy revealed suspicious causes of death, the Empire Defense Department’s plans would collapse entirely.
‘But refusing isn’t an option. A pile of gold just rolled in.’
Kroni’s lips curved into a determined smile.
“But there is a way.”
“What on earth is going on?”
“The Empire’s situation is complicated. In any case, to receive the promised funds, you’ll need to cooperate with one more thing…”
Kroni’s gaze shifted directly forward, and the chieftains followed it.
There stood the representative of Astana. Blue hair, pale skin. Rumors that she lived covered in corpses seemed true, given her ghostly complexion.
The Astana representative sighed softly.
“I believe discussions on that matter have already concluded.”
“We can start again.”
“As I said, I don’t know the exact location of the Idgal burial grounds.”
Among existing magic stones, only two can neutralize mages: the Mana Seal Stone and Idgal.
The Mana Seal Stones are all owned jointly by the palace and various departments, so monopolizing them is impossible. But Idgal? It’s a banned substance, scattered indiscriminately under a policy of prohibition.
“Representative of Astana, though we face each other across the border, we are now seated at the same table.”
Why make negotiations so difficult when they could end amicably? The other tribes’ simmering frustrations began to bubble over.
“So, Captain Kroni’s proposal is: if we reveal the Idgal burial site, you’ll provide us with funds—no, support—and we’ll return to the center?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Astana, please cooperate. This is a duty to strengthen the minority tribes’ alliance.”
The Astana representative frowned, clearly troubled, then addressed the other chieftains.
“I don’t know the details of the Idgal burial site. And even if I did, what would you do with it? It’s a region that supports Gaia by sealing the rift.”
“I’ve heard the Idgal deposits are enormous, piled like mountains. Would taking a little cause problems? Some already know of the site and have been mining and distributing it.”
They only needed to extract enough to prevent the rift from reopening. That alone would be enough to keep the mages in check.
Even if they refused out of some misguided sense of justice, the truth would come out eventually. Better to claim it first and profit.
“…I must discuss this with His Majesty.”
The Astana representative reluctantly replied. It was the best he could do. The chieftains sighed quietly, and Kroni’s expression betrayed his disappointment.
“We can’t afford to wait long.”
“Yes, just a moment. Excuse me.”
He excused himself and left the tent. Kroni and the chieftains watched his retreating figure, then each muttered under their breath.
“If he’s the king of Astana, isn’t he practically a corpse?”
“Not practically—he is a corpse. They say his soul wanders… it’s unsettling.”
“I heard he died over a hundred years ago, and his soul will soon vanish. The heir apparent is said to be the author.”
“So that’s why he sent a representative instead of coming himself?”
“All the other tribes sent their chieftains, but Astana only sent a proxy… Honestly, their power isn’t that impressive.”
Astana was a coalition of very small tribes. Though called a kingdom for a long time, it was frankly embarrassing.
Kroni stood, stretching.
“Let’s resume talks once the Astana representative returns.”
“Understood.”
Kroni stepped outside and signaled to his men. The portal was still open. Someone was surely waiting for his reply.
“Bring me pen and paper.”
He stroked his mustache, hesitated briefly, then began writing a letter for Ian. The opening line read: “Dear Ian.”
—Ian, I’m glad you finally seem to understand my true intentions. I swear to God I will do my utmost to fulfill my role as your guardian until you come of age.
But there’s a slight problem hearing this news from so far away. If I become your guardian, there’s something secret I want to tell you in person. Would you come through the portal? It concerns your parents. If you do, I’ll have you sign the guardianship application. It won’t take long. I’ll ask the Magic Department to grant us about a week.
If they plan to pull tricks with the autopsy while I’m away, the only way is to bring the culprit here.
Becoming Ian Hadel’s guardian is a bait I can’t refuse. And the condition to sign, using his parents’ secret as leverage, will be an irresistible temptation for Ian. Let’s see who outsmarts whom, shall we?
Swish.
Kroni rolled up the letter and sent it through the portal. As if waiting for this, the hole hovering in the sky vanished.
Meanwhile, back with the Astana camp, the representative scratched his head in frustration.
He sprinkled something into the fire burning inside the tent. The flames flared green and grew instantly, glowing brightly without burning anything around. Then, a voice echoed from within the fire.
[What is it…?]
He was a king. His voice was weak, fragile, as if it could wither away at any moment. Having transferred his soul from vessel to vessel for over a century, he could no longer prevent the erosion of his spirit. Moving his body had become so difficult that he was reduced to inhabiting inanimate objects rather than living flesh.
“Your Majesty, there’s a problem with the negotiations,” the envoy reported.
He relayed the recent developments: the Bariel faction demanded the burial site of Idgal, and if they provided just a single clue, they could secure funding without any armed conflict. Moreover, it would strengthen alliances with other tribes.
The king listened quietly, then murmured softly.
[What was the name of Bariel’s commander?]
“Chroni. Chroni Alphat.”
[Chroni Alphat… Chroni Alphat…]
The king repeated the name over and over, as if trying to etch it into his fading memory. The decay of his soul was much like the aging of a human—time erasing memories, then identity itself.
The envoy watched the king’s muttering with growing concern.
‘Should I stop him?’
He knew well that the king’s mind was no longer sound. Just as he was about to interrupt, the king spoke again, his voice clearer.
[So it has come to this, after all this time.]
“Pardon?”
[…I have waited long enough. For the chains of fate.]
“Your Majesty, I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you mean.”
A sudden green flame flickered around the king’s form, a warning blazing in the air.
[I, Hasha, King of Astana, command you: do not turn Bariel into an enemy, but kill Chroni Alphat.]
“W-what…?”
Was it even possible to kill Chroni without making Bariel an enemy? And why? The envoy had so many questions, but King Hasha only repeated the same command.
[Kill Chroni. For the golden mage’s sake…]