Chapter 133
Chapter 133
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 133
Chapter Title: Initiation Ceremony
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Flash!
Berik, who had fainted, opened his eyes and shot up at once. His last memory was the imperial palace training grounds and Ian. But when he came to, he was on an unfamiliar bed.
"Ah."
Even the slightest twist of his body brought waves of pain as if his muscles were tearing apart. And his skull? Jayrat had focused his attacks on his face, so it was a miracle he could even open his eyes. Berik cautiously touched his nose.
'Whew, lucky. It's still attached properly.'
It was then, as Berik tried to set out in search of Ian. Voices murmured from beyond the curtain beside the bed. He peeked his head through the gap and realized he was in the infirmary. Several empty white beds, warm sunlight, and the smell of alcohol oddly brought a sense of calm.
"Are your wounds all right?"
"You should ask Viscount's swordsman about that."
"The one who gets hit hurts as much as the one who strikes, after all."
Jayrat tapped his knee with his bandaged hand and fell silent. Then, soon enough, he brought up the name of a friend from his memories.
"...Petreio, you mean. I heard from Barsabe. That you stayed with him until the end."
"From what I saw, the rumors have already spread through the imperial palace guard. He fulfilled his duty, and I merely acted according to my position. Amateurish revenge has no place here."
Clink.
Ian lightly rebuked as he lifted his teacup. Despite the middle-aged man and the boy, their words and actions clearly showed who was superior.
"So, how was his skill?"
"You mean Viscount's swordsman?"
Berik, peeking through the curtain, perked up his ears while hiding his presence. Honestly, among all the warriors he'd seen so far, this one was the best, so he was curious about the evaluation. If it was stingy, he'd charge right back in and make him change his mind, Berik's eyes sparkling.
"Not bad, considering his fundamentals are a mess. He's got natural talent in many ways. Though he's terrible at hiding his presence."
As Jayrat turned his head and muttered, Berik flung the curtain open. His face flushed red, looking flustered.
Rustle!
"Hey, why are you spying?"
"Absurd. You're the one who was spying."
"Berik, good you're awake. I was about to leave you behind if you were any later. The joining time is almost here."
Ian smiled brightly and snapped open his pocket watch. Three hours since he collapsed at the training grounds. Perfect timing to regain consciousness—commendable, really.
"Leave me? How am I supposed to get home?"
"You're not a kid. You won't get lost on the way."
"And we're not done yet! The old man cheated with a sneak attack from behind, so we have to go again."
"Berik. That's called losing."
"No it's not? I didn't lose?"
Berik insisted adamantly, but Ian's expression remained mild and unshaken. Jayrat just sighed at the sight of Berik. He wasn't entirely pleased, but taking in such a one to ensure the imperial family's safety was the duty of the guard captain, wasn't it?
"Berik. As Imperial Guard Captain, I have a proposal for you. Join the Imperial Guard and serve His Majesty the Emperor..."
"No."
"...The side dishes are good too."
"...Still no."
"Why?"
Even the trump card Ian had casually mentioned didn't work; the reaction was lukewarm. Berik wiped his face with the wet towel on the table as he replied.
"What can I learn under a captain who cheats with sneak attacks?"
"You insolent..."
"Insolent~ If not for that, I would've won. For real."
Berik stuck out his tongue mockingly and rolled his eyes. At the childish insult, Jayrat wore an expression like he'd seen something he shouldn't have. As sparks flew between them again, Ian stepped in to mediate.
"Now, now, enough of that. Berik, think about joining slowly, but I do recommend using the training grounds for practice. It's not easy at Romandro's mansion."
Physical training was difficult in the small front yard. Plus, with a pregnant woman at home, rough activities were off-limits. Berik seemed gradually convinced, scratching his chin and nodding.
"Besides, there are plenty of skilled people—not quite at Captain Jayrat's level, but good for you. I'll be coming and going to the palace regularly once I join, so we can go together."
"Yeah? Then sure. You know I'm shy with strangers."
Berik grinned widely, and Jayrat eyed him with a look that said nonsense was in season. Ian stood and nodded at Berik.
"Then, behave properly from now on. While at the training grounds, Captain Jayrat will assist you."
"Properly?"
Since the captain had seen Berik's potential, it was a negotiable matter. Guiding Berik to become palace talent. In return, Berik would gain personal growth—couldn't ask for a better deal.
"Properly. Mm-hmm."
Berik's eyes narrowed. Whether he could even open them properly with his swollen face was questionable, but he glanced at Captain Jayrat and bowed his head curtly. It was clearly a greeting, but without a shred of respect.
'Long road ahead.'
The captain pressed his forehead, and Ian rose as well.
"We'll discuss details later. That's it for today. Don't forget what I asked."
"Understood."
The mysterious black sword and the oddly peculiar existence of Berik as a sword-mage. As palace guard captain, gathering information would be easy. As Ian left the infirmary, Berik hurried after him.
"Requested? What request?"
"No need to know. Is your nose bone intact?"
"Yeah, yeah. Breathing fine."
Slide! Click!
Jayrat clicked his tongue at the closed door.
'Just as the viscount said. For that body condition to jump up and walk around is suspicious in itself.'
A highly skilled sword-mage could heal their wounds with mana. But even mages found healing the trickiest, so how much could a sword-bearer do? Certainly, there was something before sword-mage.
'If made an enemy, he'll burden Bariel someday. That's clear. So, securing him from the start is for the empire.'
Tap.
"Huh? Did Viscount Ian and the madman leave?"
"Left? In that condition? He's moving?"
Barsabe entered from the storage room inside the infirmary with the doctor. Jayrat just shook his head side to side, as if he had no idea either.
* * *
At that moment, in the Magic Department's main building grand conference room.
Rarely used except for irregular grand councils, it was perfect for an initiation ceremony introducing new recruits.
"Did you hear? They say Captain Jayrat unleashed his mana at the palace training grounds today."
"What? How? Did a mana beast appear?"
"No, something like sparring with an outside knight, and it happened then. They say it was a sight."
"Outside? Haha, he's on the fast track now. If he held his own against Jayrat, he could join right away, right?"
"Won't know unless the owner sells willingly. The Magic Department's budget has been huge lately; the guards complain every day. Those sword-mages eat like there's no tomorrow."
"By the way, isn't Viscount Ian Hielo joining today?"
"Time's almost up..."
Bang!
It was as the mages gathered, peering outside. The door burst open, and people from the Magic Operations Division entered. Led by Captain Hail, with main members Tommy and Nakina. As they entered, whispers rose again around them.
"What do they say about assigning Viscount Ian Hielo?"
"No big reaction? You know Captain Hail's personality."
"He's got skill but no clue how to play politics."
Tommy scowled back at them, but the mages didn't stop murmuring. Hail calmly chewed his cigarette and checked his watch.
"Captain Hail. Seen the new guy's face?"
"Yeah. At the new year's party. Pretty one."
"Tommy! Thought you'd escape being the baby, but a noble shows up. How am I supposed to senior properly?"
"Better than what you do."
Sharp banter flew between Magic Support and Magic Operations. Other divisions watched from a step back. As time passed, the conference room front door swung wide.
Slide!
"Minister Wesley enters."
At the aide's announcement, everyone quieted and looked ahead. Then, the blond green-eyed boy following her. Those who'd seen him at the new year's party inwardly admired again, while first-timers rolled their eyes awkwardly with flustered smiles. Why hadn't anyone mentioned he was that handsome?
"Is everyone here?"
"Yes, Minister."
"As you've all heard, a new recruit joins the Magic Department today. Viscount Ian Hielo. Said to be Bariel's first noble mage in history—whether he lives up to the hype remains to be seen."
For introducing a recruit after years, it was quite deflating. Mages snorted openly, but Ian's face was impassive, as if deaf.
"If you have greetings, go ahead."
At Wesley's words, Ian stepped forward a pace, scanning the room. He easily spotted Hail, his direct superior, and slowly spoke while looking at him.
"Don't feel inconvenienced just because I'm a noble. I look forward to your guidance."
Even with flowery words, the response would be the same. At the concise greeting, everyone fell silent with absurd expressions. Nakina was first to clap.
Clap clap clap.
"Welcome."
What an awkward atmosphere. Wesley clapped perfunctorily, and soon other mages followed with obligatory applause. Wesley gestured Ian down from the podium, then instructed Hail.
"Captain Hail of Magic Operations will handle Viscount Ian Hielo from now on. Do well."
"Yes, Minister."
She seemed about to add something, then just left. Tommy and Nakina approached, extending hands.
"Nice to meet you. No need for formalities since I'm your mentor. I'm Nakina."
"Pleasure. Thanks for before."
"I'm Tommy. Ask me anything you don't know."
"Yes, will do. Thank you."
As they exchanged greetings, mages from Magic Support approached, eyeing Ian. Clearly the ones who'd tampered with the magic circle.
"We'll be seeing you around a lot, right?"
"Magic Support Division, I presume."
"Yeah. Shake on it?"
One man grinned and reached out. Ian reflexively went to grasp it, but paused at the mana aura from the fingertips. A magic circle was drawn on the palm, no doubt.
"What? Hate it? Noble like that, hates shaking with lowly folks?"
"Guy's got attitude on day one."
"Wonder if we can work with him. Magic Operations are already such pains."
"Captain. Captain Hail can hear."
"That's the point. What with the newbie like that?"
Classic childish trick. But for public image, a handshake was proper. Instead of grasping, Ian smiled while unleashing mana to reflect it back.
"Please take care of me."
But at that moment.
Sizzle.
"Argh!"
Hail pressed the cigarette from his mouth directly onto the mage's hand. Despite the violent act, his expression showed no emotion.
"Your palm's dirty."