Episode 995

Ian stood in the main palace corridor, gazing up at the portrait of the Former Emperor. Jin Verosion—the victor of the Great Demon War a century ago, the Iron-Blooded Emperor.

Ian’s eyes lingered on the scar etched across Jin’s face. Then, as if the wound belonged to himself, he gently traced his own face with his fingertips.

“Sir Ian.”

It was unmistakable. The pale-eyed man who had addressed him as Sir Ian in the void—the scarred face belonged to that very Jin Verosion. The sharpness of the blade that had grazed his cheek still felt vivid, sending a shiver down his neck.

“Sir Ian?”

Ian turned at the voice behind him. It was Hashada, King of Astana.

Though his movements were limited, he leaned back in his wheelchair. Everyone attending him was cloaked head to toe in robes, their faces hidden. Were they even human?

“Your Majesty of Astana.”

Ian bowed respectfully. After all, he was a king, and Ian was still just a member of the Magic Department. Besides, Astana had come to Bariel’s aid unconditionally when they were in danger—a steadfast ally. No amount of courtesy could express his gratitude.

“Oh my.”

Hashada pursed his lips, a hint of disappointment in his expression. He remembered Ian from a past life, and a deep friendship had blossomed in his heart. Yet Ian treated him like a distant foreign king. Not unexpected, but the king still frowned.

‘Sir Ian, this is what it feels like when time flows differently between dear friends. It’s not just a matter of time—it’s like an invisible wall blocking us from reaching each other.’

Ian took a step closer to Hashada.

“Your Majesty, the courage Astana has shown this time will serve as a lasting bridge between Bariel and Astana. I swear Bariel will regard Astana as a true friend and spread word of your bravery far and wide. All those who bask in Gaia’s peace will owe their thanks to Astana.”

“Thank you for saying so. Astana merely chose the path that was rightfully theirs.”

“The path that was rightfully theirs?”

Hashada’s eyes reflected the day from a hundred years ago. Then, as now, as long as you were there, victory was inevitable. Following that path required no special courage or resolve. It was simply the obvious choice.

“Faith.”

Hashada smiled kindly.

“Ah, my friends from a hundred years past. Before me now stands Ian Hielo—no, Ian Verosion—the very person you longed for so deeply. And yet, he looks at me with innocent eyes, unaware of it all. If there’s anything to envy, envy that greatly.”

“Your Majesty.”

Ian hesitated, then spoke carefully. When he glanced at the attendants around Hashada, the king raised a hand, sending their eyes and ears away. As the attendants retreated, Ian stepped closer.

“A hundred years ago, the golden mage known as Ian Hielo—he was truly you, wasn’t he?”

Hashada’s eyes widened. It was almost a question asked with certainty, but what was he really seeking?

“Were you with King Hashada then?”

“Ah, yes. I was.”

“As a friend?”

“As a friend.”

Ian chose his words carefully.

“What kind of person was Ian Hielo?”

There were almost no official records, only the printed words in the Hielo Chronicles. But those alone made it hard to grasp who Hielo truly was.

Hashada gently raised his hand, brushing Ian’s hair back as he added,

“He was radiant. Just like you are now.”

He had a gaze that drew people in completely, as if a new world lay within. Staring into it endlessly felt like approaching the truth itself. And that was not all.

“His indescribable spirit was so beautiful it was almost frightening. He shouted for Bariel alongside you, unwavering in his belief in what was right. Though he bore the weight of everything on his back, he flew farther and higher than anyone else.”

It was a hymn soaked in the longing of a dear friend.

Ian took Hashada’s trembling hand gently.

“I’m sorry.”

You remember me, but I cannot remember you.

Hashada paused, surprised by the unexpected words.

“There’s no need to apologize. Everything is as it should be.”

But Ian shook his head softly.

“Because of those who stood by me in the past, I am who I am today. I am deeply grateful, but I cannot recall them clearly—the fog never lifts. Does that not sadden Your Majesty as well?”

Hashada shook his head slightly.

“No matter what, you are my friend. You helped them once, so it is only natural.”

He placed a trembling hand on Ian’s shoulder. Though frail, the touch was real. That small reality comforted him. Even if an invisible wall of time stood between them, they had reached each other.

“I’m just so glad to see you one last time.”

“Is that so?”

“If I’d known, I would have come when you were younger. I’ve heard stories of your childhood, but seeing it with my own eyes is different.”

Hashada joked lightly, and Ian smiled faintly. The king’s grip tightened.

“Sir Ian, do you want to recover your memories?”

“I don’t know. But one thing’s certain—I don’t want to lose them. I know they’re precious.”

“Then that’s enough.”

“Pardon?”

“If you wish, you can achieve it. You are loved by the gods and stand at the pinnacle of Bariel.”

Hashada twitched his nose again.

“If you find your memories, I will sing a song of celebration from the afterlife. May it ride the wind and reach you.”

“…Are you leaving?”

As Hashada leaned back, the attendants returned. Ian didn’t let go of his hand, reluctant to part—this felt like the final farewell.

“I must. To where I belong.”

To Astana, and to the resting place of a soul that defies the flow of time.

Ian bowed deeply and embraced Hashada tightly. His body was so frail it seemed it might crumble, but warmth radiated from him. Ian etched that warmth into his mind and said,

“Farewell.”

Pat, pat. Hashada lightly patted Ian’s back.

Then he slowly released him and left the main palace. Sorcerers resting nearby rose one by one, gathering around the king.

“Your Majesty of Astana, we will keep in touch. Thank you again, truly, for coming here.”

As the prime minister bowed, all palace staff showed their respect and saw them off.

Hashada said nothing, staring ahead. The portal to Astana opened.

Ziiing! Ziiing!

“Farewell, then.”

Hashada smiled, savoring the warmth Ian had left on his fingertips. Now, with nothing left to worry about, his heart was at peace. My friend, Ian. Now you may live the life you couldn’t finish in Bariel.

Swoosh.

Hashada and the sorcerers vanished beyond the portal.

The people felt a strange sense of loss and returned to their places. Ian stepped outside, and the sorcerers rushed toward him.

“Iaaaan!”

“Ian! Something big’s happened!”

What’s all the fuss about? Ian frowned, worried something was wrong. Then came Arena’s determined voice.

“Minister Arena is resigning.”

“What?”

“Not now, but later. After the palace settles down.”

“That’s ridiculous! Why would she do that? Ian, you have to say something. What will we do without her?”

“Exactly. And when that time comes, your support as the next emperor will be crucial!”

“Where is the minister now?”

“Over there! Over there! Meeting with the officials.”

The sorcerers pushed Ian toward Arena. She was poring over documents with department officials, discussing damage control. Her expression was so stern it was almost intimidating.

When she spotted Ian, her eyebrows lifted—a sudden change like spring arriving on a bleak winter mountain.

“Ian?”

“Minister, if you have a moment, I’d like to talk.”

“Oh, those sorcerers and their loose tongues. Did they run straight to you with their gossip?”

Arena crossed her arms and glared behind Ian. The sorcerers half-hidden in the tent peeked out. Huh? They didn’t even try to hide. As Arena muttered curses under her breath, the sorcerers stuck out their lips defiantly.

“Hah! Those bastards are dead meat.”

“You’re resigning as minister?”

Ian blocked her path, speaking firmly. Arena bared her teeth in a ‘we’ll see about that’ expression toward the sorcerers.

“Minister.”

“Cut the jokes and answer me.”

Ian pressed, and Arena cleared her throat.

“Yeah, that’s right. The timing’s undecided, but once things settle down, I plan to resign.”

“Why?”

The Magic Department can’t function without her. She’s the pillar and the center of all sorcerers.

Arena made a thoughtful sound and held up one finger.

“First, I abandoned the palace at the critical moment when the underground god was reborn. That’s a clear dereliction of duty. Not only did the protective barrier around the palace shatter, but I let it collapse completely. It was a catastrophic failure of the Magical Security Department. As head of the department, I must humbly accept whatever punishment comes my way.”

“But—”

“No buts, Ian.”

She had gone north on a solo expedition after losing her subordinates, chasing the monster that killed the wizard, but the emperor never gave that order. Because of her reckless actions and the embarrassing defeat at Crony, the response was delayed. If she had stayed in the palace, the damage would have been far less.

“Second, I believe the Magical Department needs regular generational change. Do you know how many years I’ve been minister? At least…”

It’s definitely been over ten years. Lost in the passage of time, Arena trailed off.

“Anyway, all that chaos with monsters and whatnot passed in a blur, but not anymore. When I took this position, I swore loyalty to the emperor—not to you.”

Arena leaned in and whispered into Ian’s ear. The busy officials passing by pretended not to notice, focusing instead on their own affairs.

“Times of turmoil are exactly when change is needed. Ian, if you want to replace the heads of each department, you have to start by stepping down from what you’ve already taken. Even if it’s by my hand.”

Everything happens for a reason. The emperor, who came from the Magical Department, wouldn’t leave other departments untouched when removing the minister of magic.

“And finally, the third!”

Arena wiggled her fingers playfully and added,

“I just can’t do this anymore!”

“Huh?”

“It’s too exhausting. I’m not as young as I used to be. See this scar on my back? My healing’s definitely slower now. I’m thinking of buying a villa somewhere with good water and fresh air, just to relax and enjoy life.”

A lie. When Ian gave her a skeptical look, she poked him sharply in the cheek.

“So, here’s the deal, Ian.”

“Don’t be so formal.”

“The emperor’s coronation will be held a year from now. That’s roughly agreed upon with the officials. We’ll have to discuss the details at the next assembly.”

“…!”

Even after Arena leaves, the entire Magical Department stands with Ian. That’s why he can trust them. The little boy she met when he was five has grown into someone remarkable. She’ll nod with satisfaction, knowing she fulfilled her duty.

Arena smiled, and Ian reluctantly returned the smile.

“The coronation… my final gift.”