Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Empire (1)
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Ariane Castora.
Ian Baltazar's former fiancée.
A name that never appeared in the game, and I had no recollection of hearing it on the frontline either.
In other words, she was someone I didn't know at all—I only knew of "Ian Baltazar."
That was exactly why I'd denied being Ian Baltazar.
I wasn't the original Ian Baltazar to begin with.
And I had no desire to lean on that name either.
Whatever messes the old Ian had made in the past, there was no reason for me to take on that trash too.
That's why, when I enlisted, I'd only written down the name Ian, skipping the family name.
I'd done the same even while introducing myself on the frontline.
Everyone who knew me there thought I was just a commoner named Ian.
So the one standing here now wasn't Ian Baltazar—it was a guy with the same name, Ian.
But that still left one nagging question that wouldn't let it slide so easily.
Why hadn't Ariane Castora recognized Ian's face?
The broken engagement had happened when he was sixteen, which meant eleven years had already passed.
Sure, he'd bulked up massively and grown taller since then, but a face doesn't change that much.
"She said she couldn't tell because of the scars... so she didn't completely fail to recognize me. There must be another reason."
I mulled over what Ariane had muttered to herself.
"There's no way he died that pathetically."
Judging by the meaning of her words, there was only one conclusion.
The information that Ian Baltazar was dead had spread.
My first thought went to Duke Valdyr.
As the head of the Nordelheim family commanding the Northern Frontline, he wouldn't have glossed over an issue like identity.
Aura Energy techniques were the Empire's exclusive domain, and the Northern Frontline was the continent's sole shield.
There was no way he'd let some unknown into the fray without checking, yet the duke hadn't scrutinized my background or records.
"Was it because he'd already looked into it?"
It was just a guess, but Duke Valdyr had spread the word that "Ian Baltazar" was dead.
I had no idea why.
Maybe because the original Ian Baltazar was already rumored to be a hopeless scumbag, or perhaps there was more to it.
Without information, there was no way to know.
And I couldn't exactly ask the dead Duke Valdyr anyway.
I returned to the banquet hall and stood by Irena's side again.
"Ian, you're too late."
"Sorry. I got lost on the way. The palace is huge."
"Next time you have to go somewhere, take me with you."
"Sure thing."
Freya was chatting with some nobleman.
Her expression didn't look pleased at all.
Her left hand, clenched into a fist, was trembling faintly.
Irena smirked as she watched the scene.
"The lady looks worn out. Once you reach her position, you have no choice but to mingle with the other nobles even if you don't want to."
No one approached us.
More precisely, no one could approach even if they wanted to.
Irena was emitting her Aura around us.
It wasn't a physical form but something closer to an intangible pressure.
Approaching it wouldn't cause injury, but ordinary folk without Aura Energy training would feel a chilling dread the moment they got close.
"Aren't you going to mingle, Lady Irena?"
Irena swirled her wine glass.
The contents spun around once.
She took a sip of wine, then leaned against the window, stretching languidly.
"Not interested in anyone except one person."
Irena glanced at me with a smile.
For a moment, I was at a loss for words.
"..."
At that moment, a nobleman pierced through Irena's intimidating Aura and approached.
His eyes and posture oozed excessive confidence.
He seemed to have trained in Aura Energy—broad shoulders, well-balanced build.
But before Irena's intangible killing intent, even his Aura began to waver.
"Pardon the intrusion, Lady Irena."
He smiled, reaching for the back of her hand with elegant, protocol-perfect poise.
"You stand out even in this banquet hall. Might I have the honor of the next dance?"
Irena stared silently at his fingertips touching her hand, then slowly raised an eyebrow.
"Shouldn't you introduce yourself first in a place like this?"
"Ah, my apologies."
He gave an awkward smile and bowed his head.
"Serius, second son of the Roizenkrabel Count family."
"I see."
Irena replied curtly and lifted her wine glass.
"I'll remember that. If we cross paths again, that is."
Serius couldn't tell if she meant she'd remember him or forget him entirely, so he laughed it off awkwardly.
He bowed halfway, flashing an elegant smile.
"Lady Irena, I've heard plenty about your exploits on the Northern Frontline."
He lifted his head cautiously and continued.
"You're even more intense than those feats suggest. And beautiful, Lady Irena."
"...And?"
"Pardon?"
"Is that why you came over? Or did you just want to check my looks in person?"
Serius's smile faltered a beat late.
"No, not at all. I just thought I'd never get a private chance to speak with someone who's achieved such great feats on the battlefield—"
Irena cut him off and stepped forward.
"You've trained in Aura Energy, haven't you? You made it this far through my Aura."
"...I've trained decently. I even had formal knight training."
"Then you should know. That my Aura isn't just a simple threat."
Her smile was short and sharp, like a shard of cold glass.
"Or did you not know that?"
"I get it. You wouldn't. You trained in Aura Energy but never set foot on the Northern Frontline."
"Was the Aura Energy you learned for your own protection? Or to seduce women and climb the social ladder?"
"Did you even graduate from the academy? I'm doubtful. If you'd learned even a shred of common sense there, you wouldn't act like this."
Serius faltered under Irena's barrage of questions.
Even as he opened his mouth to make excuses, another pointed question came flying back.
The questions were slyly worded from various angles, but the meaning was singular.
If you're too scared to join the Northern Frontline, then get lost.
Serius shut his mouth and had no choice but to retreat.
"...I've been rude, Lady Irena. Have a honorable evening."
Serius hid the twitching of his cheek and shot me a meaningful glance.
He seemed to think Irena's rejection was because of me.
"Lord Ian. I know bonds run deep among those who fought together on the Northern Frontline. But influence in the capital matters too, doesn't it?"
"I'm not sure."
"...If it's that kind of relationship, it might just be temporary—"
A temporary relationship.
I grabbed his wrist without letting him finish.
Serius swallowed hard at the silent force from behind.
"If you want to die, there are better ways than this."
I whispered.
The transcendent grip strength of a man who'd wielded a sword for eleven years bore down on Serius.
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead in an instant.
Swallowing the scream bubbling up was Serius's own ingenuity.
"If you wish, I can send you straight to the Northern Frontline. It'll take me a month."
"Ian, make it two weeks for me."
Irena smiled warmly, stepping in front of me to block his view.
The moment I released his hand, Serius fled.
Ting-a-ling. Ting-a-ling.
A clear sound like tinkling silver bells rang out, and the Empress's voice echoed from behind the veil at the center of the banquet hall.
"Now, we shall bestow honors upon the war heroes who graced this gathering."
The banquet hall's clamor died down instantly.
Nobles, generals—all held their breath, focusing on the Empress's voice.
Names of those who'd shone on the Northern Frontline were called one by one.
Faces I all knew—people I'd talked to and fought beside at least once.
Cheers and applause followed each name.
And finally—
"And lastly, Ian."
The name rang out, plunging the entire hall into stunned silence as if everyone had drawn breath at once—then belated applause poured in.
I walked slowly to the stage.
"Your feats are a victory the entire Empire must remember."
Through the curtain, I saw the Empress's gesture.
A servant placed a single sword at the center of my path.
A ceremonial sword in ancient Imperial style, trimmed in silver.
The highest honor bestowed upon a war hero.
I lifted the sword, knelt, and bowed my head.
"We shall remember your honor in the Empire's name."
The Empress's gaze pierced me clearly from beyond that elegant veil.
The emotion in it was neither admiration nor wariness.
Confirmation.
A look as if committing my face to memory.
Just as applause was about to erupt again.
As if his words weren't finished, the Empress spoke.
"Hero who accomplished the feats of the Founding Emperor. The Empire shall grant what you desire."