Chapter 120
Chapter 120
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 120
Chapter Title: End of the Outing
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Pollen signaling the start of the New Year's Assembly blanketed the entire Bariel Empire when Barsabe returned to the imperial palace covered in blood.
With her father gone, the small mansion in the city center had lost all meaning, so now the barracks next to the training grounds, prepared for the soldiers, was her only residence.
Boom!
"Barsabe, oh my god!"
"Shut up. Be quiet."
"Did you get into some kind of accident?"
"No. Mind your own business."
Barsabe flung off her tattered clothes and rummaged for her uniform. The tattoo on her left shoulder marking her affiliation with the guard unit. She'd mishandled her mana release, causing bursts of heat blooms across her body, but the area around the tattoo remained perfectly clear and intact.
"I'm out of gloves. Lend me yours."
"Uniform? Why pull out your uniform all of a sudden? The New Year's event hasn't started yet. The pollen signal flare just went off."
She didn't know what Ian was scheming, but right now, there was only one thing she could do.
Play along with his words.
He'd said he'd hand over her father's belongings if she came formally with all due propriety, so she had no choice. With his body not even recovered, those were truly the last traces of her father.
"You didn't go see that Ian guy, did you?"
"I did. And I got my ass kicked, see?"
Her colleague clutched his forehead at her response. News of Petreio's death had spread like wildfire even within the palace direct guard unit. Though he'd retired, Barsabe had taken up the mantle, and with active exchanges among the knights, it was natural for everyone to know.
It had probably started around the time Molin returned to the administration building in critical condition. That Ian had severed Molin's arms and legs in the process of usurping the lordship.
Of course, the gossipers mostly mentioned Erika, but Petreio's name was undoubtedly wrapped up in it too.
'What about my father?'
'I'm sorry, Barsabe. Petreio fulfilled his knightly duty protecting me from Ian.'
'Why, Lord Molin is an imperial palace administrator...'
'To those vulgar frontier bastards, that meant nothing. Barsabe, when I was locked in the underground dungeon, I heard your father's agonized groans day and night.'
Barsabe grimaced, recalling her conversation with Molin. He'd clearly said Ian had tortured her father to death. But when she'd actually met him, he didn't seem like the type at all—that was the problem.
'You shouldn't judge by appearances, but still, there's this feeling...'
"Barsabe! Are you listening to me?"
Her chain of thoughts snapped to a halt. Her colleague was grabbing her arm with a worried look. Precisely, her left shoulder with the tattoo.
"If you cause trouble during probation, it's dismissal without warning. You know that, right? I get how you feel, but that guy's going to be a noble by His Majesty's decree. It means he's not someone we can point our swords at."
In the imperial palace, it was natural for everyone except Marib's faction to dislike Ian. Even the neutral direct guard unit had stamped a negative first impression of him due to Petreio's death.
"I know. But who's gonna scold me if I get dismissed? No dad's left."
"That's not the point! And how dare you charge at a mana user without fear? They say he pacified the barbarians in the borderlands! Even Lord Molin and Erika's central army got wrecked— what were you thinking?"
Rumors swirled in a thousand directions throughout the palace. Those who'd heard of Ian's exploits focused on different parts depending on their perspective. The Magic Department on him being a mana user; the direct guard unit especially on how he'd driven out the central army.
"Yeah. Ian's got this one guard with him, total psycho. What's in the borderland food? Just brute strength like a moron."
Barsabe muttered nonchalantly, but she meant it. The fact that she'd unconsciously released her mana was proof. Even setting aside the tension from seeking revenge for her father, it was undoubtedly a mistake.
'I'll let it slide for now. Then I'll get a proper look at him.'
Whether he was responsible for her father's death or not. Since they'd already clashed once, she'd be able to fight more calmly next time. The moment Barsabe picked up the scabbard for her uniform sword—
Weeeeng.
A noisy assembly signal blared from outside. It was the call for all knights in the barracks, excluding those out on leave, to don their uniforms and come out.
Her colleague peeked outside, then glanced back at Barsabe. The knights who'd stayed in the palace were shuffling back to their rooms.
"Take off the gloves."
"Oh..."
"I've only got one pair."
If she'd known, she'd have just grabbed her clothes and bolted. Barsabe scowled and set down the scabbard.
* * *
"Wow."
Berik let out an exclamation as he surveyed the wrecked smithy. It was already a mess of dirt and ash, but now unknown blast marks had charred the floor black. The blacksmith's long chin beard was singed and bumpy too.
"Sir! You didn't say a word about this!"
"Calm down and explain what happened."
"How could you not warn me when entrusting me with something like this? Even calling it a special sword, it's just one silver coin. This is way cheaper than compensation for damages!"
As if lightning would strike the unexpected, he'd come just in case—and sure enough. Ian kept telling him to calm down, but the blacksmith wouldn't lower his voice.
And for good reason—the sword had exploded!
Precisely...
"I heated it up, but the heat wouldn't cool."
To straighten the bent blade, he'd applied heat. He'd thought it was sufficiently hot and started hammering away, but the temperature wouldn't drop as time passed. Perplexed, he'd tried quenching it, and an immense heat had erupted, wrecking the place.
"Heh heh, my sword. So sharp now!"
"That thing nearly blew me to bits!"
But a craftsman is a craftsman. Despite the disaster, he'd finished it perfectly, come hell or high water. The client might be at fault, but the sword was innocent. Berik dashed over, grabbed the sword, and swung it around. His eyes widened as he grinned in satisfaction.
"It's lighter. Insane! And straight as an arrow!"
"You'll have to pay compensation and a life endangerment fee! Jeez, you carry this around without knowing what it is? No offense, but you didn't pick it up off the street, did you?"
"I picked it—"
"Sorry about this. It's not picked up; actually, it was secretly bestowed by the family, so that's the situation. Please understand."
Romandro hurriedly clamped Berik's mouth shut, and Ian gestured for a check to be brought. It was more than understandable.
"How much do you want?"
"One gold coin at least."
"That's too modest for a life fee. I heard from Lady Vivianna that you're the top blacksmith in the capital."
Ian asked coolly as he took up a pen. The blacksmith's arched eyebrows softened a bit. Rough smithy craftsmen had tremendous pride. Ian's praise seemed to hit just right.
"I'll give two gold coins. Consider it payment for a result better than expected."
"Ahem. Well, if you put it that way, I'll gratefully accept. Lucky nothing major broke or got hurt."
"Thanks for saying that. Berik, you like it?"
"Totally! Awesome! Best ever!"
Berik swung the sword this way and that to test it. Romandro clicked his tongue watching him.
"Tsk tsk. No dinner for you tonight, you brat!"
"Huh? What? Ian said he'd buy me meat."
"That, that! Money-eating pig."
Romandro whispered to Ian, but too loudly. Berik, who'd overheard, flew into a rage and charged at Romandro, while Ian calmly finished the payment.
"You've worked hard."
"Yes. Next time, please bring something normal. I'll do even better."
"Berik! Stop harassing Lord Romandro and come out."
Creak.
As they stepped outside, Vivianna poked her head out anxiously from the waiting carriage.
"What happened? Are you alright?"
"Yes, my lady. No issue. Stay inside, it's cold. Best to wrap up and head back today."
Ian said so while scanning the surroundings again. Whether because he knew his pursuer was Barsabe, or just a hunch, he no longer sensed any odd presence nearby.
"Berik, looks like it explodes if it gets hot, so handle it carefully. Got it? Don't shove it in a furnace or anything."
Romandro repeatedly cautioned Berik as he pried him away. This wasn't the borderlands where Ian held power anymore; it was the capital. The fallout from one incident was unpredictable.
"You think I'm an idiot? Why put this in a furnace? You put food in furnaces!"
Ian subtly peered at the reforged sword.
Definitely not an ordinary blade. Whether made from a mana stone, a dragon's fang, or a meteor shard—who knew. Too many possibilities, but it was no common item, that was certain.
"Berik, swear you'll take good care of it. Otherwise, for everyone's safety, I'll have to confiscate it."
"Master? What're you saying? We came from Karenna here without issue. Just don't heat it up. For real!"
Just don't heat it up?
Ian's gaze lingered suddenly on Berik's red hair and eyes.
'Come to think of it, mana is ultimately a form of heat, an energy.'
If he released mana through the sword?
It would be the same as applying heat.
"Berik, don't let any mana flow when holding the sword."
"Got it, got it. I'll do as told. I listen well, right?"
It was something to try someday, but not now. Wrong place, no capacity to handle fallout.
"Ian, what're you thinking?"
With no reply from Ian, Berik asked slyly. Ian hopped into the carriage and tossed out a playful jab. It wouldn't feel like a joke to Berik, though.
"...Figuring how many pounds of meat two gold coins buys."
"What? Wasn't my fault!"
"You brat, if you hadn't picked that thing up, would this have happened? And what were you thinking picking it up? Got something to hide from investigators?"
Romandro threw in his two cents as he boarded. Berik, feeling wronged, hurried up the steps too, ending their rowdy outing.
* * *
And finally.
Ian rose earlier than usual and watched the sunrise. The luxurious uniform hung on the wall rack, new shoes, gloves, and accessories—all perfectly set. Mini the maid had prepared it all at dawn.
Knock knock.
"Master Ian. Awake?"
"Yeah. Just now."
"You've got a lot to prepare. Hurry and change, come out."
At Mini's urging, Ian got out of bed. Today was special—the day the pollen blanketing Bariel reached full bloom.
"It's the day you attend the New Year's Assembly."
The day Ian would meet the emperor at this hour.
And the day he'd establish a new house and rise as its lord.