Chapter 970
A few hours earlier, at the Mage Tower.
Soif turned his head slightly at the sound of footsteps outside. A gag wrapped in cloth was tied around his mouth, a temporary measure to treat the wounds melted by poison.
Creak.
Ian entered. His hair and collar were slightly tousled, as if he had just finished intense exercise. He ran a hand through his hair, dragged a chair over, and sat down. Behind him, the mages came in and began organizing documents.
“Soif Albanchino. From a minor noble family in the capital, graduated from Enerjes. Considering he caused trouble less than a year after entering the imperial palace, it’s safe to say this was his original intent.”
Thud.
Ian tossed a sheet of paper with Soif’s personal information onto the table. It wasn’t a question expecting an answer—after all, Soif’s mouth was ruined, and he could only groan.
“Pen. Outside.”
“Yes, Minister.”
…Minister?
Soif’s eyes narrowed slightly. When he saw Ian at the emperor’s quarters, he wasn’t a minister. What had happened to change his title?
Soif glanced up at the mage who brought the pen, noticing the roughness around his mouth, and frowned again.
“What, never seen a guy with a busted face before?”
The mage caught Soif’s gaze and snapped back curtly. Soif slowly looked away.
‘Ah, if I’d known this would get so ugly, I wouldn’t have challenged them.’
Those who didn’t participate in the temporary minister selection were the true winners and the wise ones. But why? He couldn’t resist his curiosity about Ian’s magic power.
His pride and foolish curiosity had led them to this mess—not Ian’s merciless magic strikes.
‘Yeah, that’s right. Ahem.’
The mages quietly stepped back, glancing at the back of Ian’s head.
‘But he seems different now.’
Ian had always been cold and quiet, but after meeting Crony, something had changed. From proposing the temporary minister election to decisively subduing the mages, he showed no hesitation. Being a collateral relative of the emperor, he still carried an undeniable aura of authority.
“Cutting out your tongue doesn’t mean you can’t communicate. I’m going to ask a few questions now. Write your answers clearly.”
Ian crossed his legs and nodded toward Soif. But Soif’s gaze was resolute, as if he’d rather die. He refused Ian’s order without moving a finger.
“Why did you attempt to assassinate His Majesty the Emperor?”
“……”
“There’s testimony from a servant who cleaned His Majesty’s body with you. They said your care was different than before. And here’s the doctor’s report—about the poison found on your arm.”
Rustle.
Ian continued regardless of Soif’s willingness to answer. He couldn’t push any further; there were observers from other departments outside the interrogation room.
“Attempting to assassinate His Majesty is the gravest of crimes. Your parents, siblings, or close ones will share the punishment. Confess who ordered you, and I will show mercy.”
Say Crony’s name. The one who ordered you to kill the emperor is Crony Alphat. Say it now. Ian’s eyes were sharp, already certain of the whole story.
“……”
But Soif remained silent and unmoving. His gaze fixed on the tip of the pen. Ian sensed it was a sign of suicide—if given the chance, Soif would stab himself immediately.
“At Enerjes—”
Ian carefully chose his words.
“I thought maybe we passed each other by without noticing.”
Ian had no memory of Soif, but it was easy to check.
“So I asked Hans. Sure enough, Hans remembered you right away.”
The administration was just as shaken by the emperor’s freezing incident. As soon as they heard Soif was the suspect, they contacted Ian.
“Your grades were better than expected. For someone foolish enough to try to assassinate the emperor.”
Ian smiled faintly when their eyes met.
“And you were especially close with those who tricked you into the incinerator?”
Hans had said the students who locked Soif in the incinerator disguised as a garden followed him well.
Ian believed none of this was coincidence. Crony wanted to eliminate him to seize Hadel’s fortune, but the only weak point was inside Enerjes, protected by Count Jacques.
“It’s only a matter of time before your connection to Crony is exposed. So act wisely. At least I can make sure you die without pain.”
Despite Ian’s final warning, Soif didn’t waver. What kind of blind loyalty was this based on?
‘Ten years ago, I could understand why they tried to kill me at Enerjes.’
He was just a kid, barely six years old. It was disguised as an accident, so the risk was low. Some might have done it for a few coins.
‘But this time?’
There was a ten-year gap between Crony and Soif. More importantly, the target was the emperor, and the assassination was direct, not disguised. Without a spiritual bond with Crony, such a decision was impossible.
“What could have made you like this…”
Ian muttered softly, folding his arms. If he uncovered this, he could root out other factions loyal to Crony in one stroke.
Knock knock.
A signal came from outside. The observers, except the mages, were leaving.
Ian flung the door open.
“Hans? Leaving already?”
“I got a message from the palace…”
Hans from the administration awkwardly raised his voice. Was it because Ian was now a minister? Soif watched their exchange carefully.
“We’ve confirmed Soif’s face. Just send us the interrogation records, and we’ll verify on our end.”
“Of course. Don’t worry.”
“Well then, thank you all for your hard work.”
As the observers left the Mage Tower, the mages nodded briefly. Ian looked back at Soif and gave an order.
“Dismiss the soldiers as well.”
“Yes, understood.”
Clank, clank. The soldiers on guard descended the stairs. Soif unconsciously wore a worried expression. What were the mages planning? Removing eyes and ears was never a good sign. Torture?
‘Here it comes.’
Soif clenched his fists until his nails dug into his palms. Magical torture was on another level. Even though he risked death to assassinate, fear stirred before pain. Ian noticed and smiled.
“How pathetic. Trying to kill His Majesty yet afraid of pain. The height of foolishness.”
Ian stepped closer and pressed his foot down on the pen. Soif lifted his head, confused.
“If you don’t want to confess, don’t. Either way, you’ll die, and I’ll tear Crony apart.”
The mages scratched their chins, looking uneasy.
“Are you sure about this, Minister? Really?”
“Of course.”
Ian’s gaze shifted from Soif’s face to his hands.
“You did well to keep silent for the observers. It’s better no one knows what’s written. Right?”
Those hands would soon be broken. Losing use of a limb during torture was common.
Ian’s cold smile made Soif hold his breath, sensing something was wrong.
‘Wait—’
Were these mages planning to fabricate evidence? To force a confession that ‘Crony ordered it’?
Clank! Clank!
Soif struggled, the sound of shackles scraping echoed. He grabbed the pen near Ian’s feet and hastily wrote something.
“What of it? You swore loyalty to the emperor but betrayed that oath.”
“Ah, you won’t forgive, huh…”
Ian flipped the paper, tilting his head.
“Looking forward to it.”
Ian turned and left without hesitation. Soif lunged forward, but the short shackles allowed only one step.
Creak.
Ian and the mages left Soif alone in the cell. Unlike Ian’s calm demeanor, the mages still looked uneasy.
“Ian, this is really…”
But as the door closed behind them, their eyes relaxed, and they spread their hands wide. Ian gave a light high-five.
Snap!
“Wow, not just anyone can pull off an act like that.”
“You did well. Ian’s still the best.”
“Ian, sir. Even if temporary, you’re a minister now.”
“No idea what that bastard thinks we are. Does he really believe that scribbling on scraps of paper will be accepted as evidence?”
“He must’ve been caught off guard too, especially with Ian being so firm.”
“From what I see, he’s done for. His head’s full of nothing but nonsense, so of course he’d get involved in the assassination.”
As the mages whispered quietly among themselves, Hans, who had gone down the stairs earlier, peeked his head back up.
“Done?”
“Yeah, done.”
Ian said that as he handed the paper to Hans. Every sample of Soif’s handwriting recorded in the palace was likely planted. Given that his purpose for entering the palace was to assassinate the emperor, suspicion was only natural.
“This is the real handwriting. Get it verified.”
“Okay, this should do it. Did you find anything at his place?”
“Nope. Looks like he cleaned up beforehand.”
There wasn’t a single letter exchanged with Crony, not even a signed receipt. So Ian and the mages had no choice but to add a little theatrics to secure Soif’s genuine handwriting. Hans was involved as a supporting actor.
“But Ian, what about a comparison sample?”
Hans carefully slipped the paper into an envelope and asked. Securing Soif’s handwriting meant they had secret letters exchanged with Crony, right? Otherwise, it wouldn’t make sense.
“There isn’t any.”
“Huh?”
Hans hesitated at Ian’s firm reply. The mages, having roughly shared the plan, calmly tidied up the area.
“Soif uses a different handwriting for work, and there wasn’t a single scrap of paper at his mansion. If Soif’s like that, imagine how careful Crony must be.”
Besides, Crony had only just returned home. He’d know better than anyone that hiding or storing letters would be too obvious.
“So then?”
Hans asked, and Ian tapped lightly on his chest—a reminder to take good care of the papers.
“We’re going to forge Soif’s handwriting. Pour all our heart into it, and send a letter to Crony, just like that.”