Chapter 957

“Who?”

“Chrony. Don’t you know him? Never heard the name?”

“I’m from the streets, you know.”

“Even street kids know that name.”

Beric shrugged as he roughly wiped his sword blade. Chrony, whatever—he had no idea what kind of man could cause such a commotion just by entering the palace. The entire imperial court was turned upside down.

Thanks to that, lunch was canceled, and the long-awaited afternoon sparring session was scrapped. Everyone was ordered to assemble immediately. Not only Beric but all the palace guards wore grim expressions as they prepared their weapons.

Thunk.

“He’s Ian’s uncle.”

At that moment, Barsabe tossed an oil-soaked cloth to Beric and added, as if telling him to shine his blade properly if he was going to make a fuss standing next to His Majesty the Emperor. Beric caught the cloth, surprised.

“Chrony?”

“Yeah. Uncle and nephew. Ian’s the uncle, by the way.”

“Whoa. What happened in that family?”

Barsabe sighed, holding his blade up to the light. The sword gleamed sharply, as if shouting it would cut down an opponent in a single strike.

“Something did happen. I don’t know the details, but Ian and Chrony don’t get along. Actually, to be precise…”

They were probably the kind of people who’d point swords at each other in a deadly feud.

Beric sniffled, waiting for Barsabe to finish.

“Precisely what?”

“Just that. If you want details, ask Ian.”

“Hey, what are you leaving out?”

“Shh. The captain’s coming.”

Barsabe grabbed Beric’s hair, pulling it back to straighten his posture. Captain Hertzi and the other two commanders were fully armed, inspecting the guards.

“The Magic Department says their preliminary investigation is complete. No unusual findings, so we’ll move straight to the audience chamber. Everyone, split into squads and tighten security.”

They’d already passed the first checkpoint at the palace gates, but since this was the first time anyone had returned alive from the Rift, the mood among the guards was tense. One soldier tightened his bootlaces and muttered.

“Are you sure the Magic Department checked everything? It’s unsettling with no minister in charge.”

“Common sense says no ordinary person survives the Rift. There’s definitely something going on.”

“The mages will be in the audience chamber, right? The Rift’s their jurisdiction.”

“Who knows? They’re always busy. Ha. You’d think they ran the whole palace alone. No minister, no staff—no wonder they’re short-handed.”

The murmurs came from a group of young recruits whispering among themselves.

Beric whipped his head around, jaw tightening, eyes blinking sharply. He looked ready to charge.

“They’re talking about—”

“Hey, Beric. No.”

Shh! Barsabe urgently grabbed his hair again to stop him.

Wasn’t Captain Hertzi watching? And this wasn’t just a group of rookies—three commanders were present. Beric had to hold back his anger.

“All right, move out.”

At Hertzi’s clap, everyone rose and fell into formation. Barsabe pulled Beric’s head back and whispered.

“We’re going to see His Majesty. Keep your head straight.”

“Damn it. Can’t I just punch them and then keep my head straight?”

“You know Ian’s not on duty today, right?”

“Really? I didn’t know. What’s up? Is he sick?”

Beric’s interest shifted instantly upon hearing Ian was off.

“No matter what, he’d be at work.”

“Of course. He’s a mage.”

“So, is he sick or what?”

“No, not that. But since Chrony’s here, Ian will probably come to the palace soon.”

Barsabe gestured to stop the conversation as they followed the others. Ian had never taken a day off before, and now, just as Chrony returned, he had to cancel his break. Chrony was the last person who helped Ian’s life in any way.

Screeeech.

The banquet hall doors opened, and the Emperor slowly lifted his gaze from the dais. He looked frail, as if he was wearing his clothes rather than being dressed in them. His faded blue eyes scanned the palace guards.

“Ah, the new recruits.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The rookies, still apprentices, were seeing the Emperor for the first time. Barsabe and the others bowed first, and Beric lowered his eyes respectfully. The Emperor mumbled something, chewing quietly.

“So, Chrony?”

“He will arrive shortly. The Magic Department is escorting him.”

The Emperor sighed softly. Beric raised an eyebrow, glancing at the old man. Wasn’t he too old to bear the burden of Bariel? He looked like he might collapse at the slightest noise.

Barsabe caught Beric’s impudent thoughts and glared, biting his lip.

‘Why?’

‘Watch your eyes.’

Damn it! Beric cleared his throat and straightened up. The Emperor, seemingly unaware of the commotion, murmured while resting his forehead on his hand.

“A man who returned alive from the Rift… Has Bariel ever seen such a thing?”

There was no precedent in official records. In fact, records about the Rift were almost nonexistent.

The Emperor skimmed through the Rift report from the Magic Department.

“We will first verify if Chrony’s account matches the records.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“If he wishes to return…”

The Emperor trailed off, looking at the empty chair to his left. The Imperial Defense Department’s representative had not yet arrived. Since this meeting was mainly an ‘investigation’ of Chrony, even if they came, there was little they could do.

“Your Majesty, Chrony has arrived.”

“Ah, bring him in.”

With the Emperor’s permission, the three commanders took their positions—flanking the Emperor’s sides and rear. The guards, including the rookies, assumed their defensive stances.

Screeeech.

The doors opened, and Chrony stepped in first. The Emperor and officials couldn’t hide their shock upon seeing his face.

“Your Majesty!”

Chrony approached warmly and knelt on one knee, but the Emperor was speechless. Ten years had passed, yet Chrony looked unchanged.

“Sir Chrony?”

“Yes, Your Majesty! I am Chrony Alphat. I have returned too late. I am ashamed to have failed to complete Your Majesty’s command to secure victory in the Northern War.”

“No, Sir Chrony. How is it that—”

The Emperor looked at the mages with a bewildered gaze, as if inviting anyone who knew to speak.

“How is it that you remain unchanged?”

“Your Majesty, I have much to say. I, too, was astonished.”

Chrony rose, wearing a gentle smile.

“I spent only ten days in the Rift. It was brief, but the longest time in my life. Yet in Bariel, ten years had passed.”

“Meaning time flows differently?”

“From my experience, yes. The Rift is a world completely separate from Gaia. Concepts of time, up and down, front and back—all were mixed and confused.”

“Hmm…”

The Emperor stroked his white beard in amazement. An official asked the mages.

“Does the Magic Department have any relevant information or records?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. We understand there is a definite time difference between the Abyss beneath the Rift and Gaia.”

It was true.

The audience chamber buzzed with excitement. There had been suspicions that Chrony had wandered somewhere else, not the Rift, but this dispelled all doubts.

Even without the Magic Department’s records, Chrony’s unchanged appearance over ten years was proof enough.

“Then, Sir Chrony, speak candidly about the Abyss. No one has returned alive from there. Your experience will open new horizons for us.”

“Your Majesty, it was an indescribably complex world. But one thing was certain.”

Chrony smiled at the mages.

“A treacherous group of underground gods had dragged me into the Abyss, and the monsters that emerged into Gaia and harmed people originated there.”

Chrony raised a finger, and everyone watched, wondering what he intended. The three commanders instinctively gripped their swords, and the palace guards tensed their senses.

Ziiing. Ziiing.

The mages did the same. The protective barrier around the audience chamber shimmered faintly as magic was infused.

“Your Majesty, no human can survive the Abyss in their natural body.”

“Yet you have returned.”

“Yes, but I am no longer the Chrony Alphat I once was.”

“What do you mean?”

The Emperor furrowed his brow. The longer Chrony hesitated, the tenser the atmosphere became. The officials watched him with anxious eyes.

“When I was lost, wandering through an endless darkness, someone called out to me and guided my way. It was a ray of light, a warmth… an instinctive pull.”

Ziiing. Ziiing!

The wizards’ eyes widened—not with their own magic, but sensing a third, unfamiliar power.

“The gods took pity on me and placed a spear of light in my hand. With it, I charged at the Underworld God hundreds, no, thousands of times.”

A long shaft of light formed in Crony’s grip. Then, in an instant, his eyes glowed golden. The wizards covered their mouths in shock.

“I fought. I kept fighting, over and over. When I was too exhausted to breathe, the gods encouraged me, shouting, ‘Defeat the Underworld God!’ I carried the weight of countless ages on my back, unable to fall even when I wanted to—”

At that moment—

Hale stepped forward and grabbed his hand, stopping him. A warning not to recklessly display such power before the emperor. Whether this was truly magic or not was a matter for the Mage Department to decide.

“Control yourself.”

“…My apologies, Your Majesty.”

Crony glared briefly at Hale, then bowed his head to the emperor. But the emperor, half lost in thought, waved his hand dismissively.

“…Continue.”

“The King of Monsters perished beneath the golden spear granted by the gods. Because of that, I was able to escape the abyss, and when I came to, I found myself far away with Bariel. I wanted to return immediately and relay the gods’ will to Your Majesty, but it was no easy task.”

“Perished? You say he perished?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. The Underworld God has been destroyed.”

Crony answered confidently. He shifted slightly, as if seeking confirmation from the Mage Department.

“Hasn’t the flood of monsters decreased recently?”

“……”

Everyone fell silent. It was common knowledge that fewer monsters were leaking out from the rift.

Crony declared proudly,

“That is proof of the Underworld God’s destruction. By killing that fiend, I have brought change to Gaia.”