Chapter 156
Chapter 156
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 156
Chapter Title: Scattering Pollen
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“Ian, my lord. Are you busy?”
Ian turned his head at the call. His sleeves had been rolled up for ages, and his once-neat hair was a bit disheveled. It was the toll of being buried in paperwork for days on end. As the sole link between the Magic Department and the imperial palace, it was only natural.
“What is it?”
“A carriage has arrived for you, Lord Ian.”
“Ah. The Luron Stones? I’ll head out right away.”
“And you know there’s a mana confirmation ritual a bit later, right?”
Ian nodded. Very naturally, he was receiving honorifics from the other mages. In an atmosphere where even nobles would typically be spoken to informally if they were young newcomers, rising as a leading candidate for the next minister had brought him automatic dignity.
Neigh!
In the distance, four or five carriages came racing in a line. Ian and the other mages gathered to inspect the Luron Stones, with Division Chief Acorella among them. She, who had been gnawing at her nails, bounded down the stairs.
“Hurry! Come on in!!”
“Division Chief Acorella, it’s dangerous!”
Neigh!
Regardless of the startled horses, Acorella bounced around, gesturing to her subordinates. It was an order to unload the goods. Romandro and Berik poked their heads out from one of the carriages, looking for Ian.
“IanIan!”
“Should we unload this here?”
In response to their vigorous waving, Ian smiled and replied. As guards and staff set the crates down on the ground, Acorella snorted excitedly and carefully pried open a lid. It revealed a heap of brilliantly shimmering purple Luron Stones.
“Oh my god! Oh my god!”
“I’ve never seen ones this big before.”
“Wow, chunks. Each box must be several kilograms easy? We’ll need more people.”
Acorella lifted a Luron Stone with trembling hands. The mages watching from the stairs buzzed with admiration. Even if it wasn’t the Mana Stone Management Division, a massive supply of such precious mana stones was good news for everyone.
“Division Chief Acorella! Nosebleed! Nosebleed!”
“…The color is so brilliant and beautiful, haa, I’m seriously losing it. I want to grind it, burn it, mix it everywhere and research it right now. Can I lick it!? Minister Ian!?”
“Are you insane? Why would you lick that?”
“Did I ask you? I asked the mana stone owner.”
She grinned with blood streaming from both nostrils, her eyes half-mad. It looked like trouble if he didn’t allow it, so Ian nodded and gestured.
“It’s under your division’s jurisdiction now, so lick it or not as you please. But you’d better hurry and move it to storage. Someone from the imperial treasury will be here soon.”
“Kya-hoo! Thank you!”
“Yes. Understood.”
After the mages confirmed the Luron Stones were properly received, payment would be made to Ian. It would be a few tens of thousands of gold coins upfront, but enough to settle the tribute and reward Romandro without issue.
“Ian! No, Master! Wanna eat?”
“Don’t fall for it. This guy emptied all the imperial training ground’s food bins. Skipped the training he was supposed to do and just lounged around. By all accounts, he’s got the best luck.”
“I went, but Jayrot wasn’t there, nor was Toothache. Just a bunch of small fry, so I took it easy.”
With the Wesley incident, imperial security had tightened even more. As a result, Jayrot and Barsabe were busy too and rarely showed up at the training grounds. The mages immediately recognized the red-haired young swordsman.
“Oh, that’s him. The one who got Division Chief Jayrot to open his mana.”
“He’s younger than I thought? And he’s Lord Ian’s guard?”
“Impressive. On par with Division Chief Jayrot.”
“I heard he’s from the frontier. Makes sense, that place is full of mysteries. Luron Stone mines, mad dogs like that…”
Berik’s lips twitched into a smile as he glanced at Ian. Eyes sparkling, ears perked up. Whether the attention was praise or insult didn’t matter; he seemed thrilled. Ian chuckled and patted Berik’s shoulder.
“Feeling good?”
“Oho, this is sneakily nice.”
“Those who make swords their fate usually do.”
“So, Ian, food?”
Ian checked his watch at Berik’s words. It was an awkward time for a meal, and more importantly, he had a crucial schedule today.
“Can’t. Time for the mana confirmation ritual soon.”
“Mana confirmation? We did that at the New Year’s gala.”
“That checked if you have mana. This one ranks superiority. If you’re to be the mages’ leader, you need mana everyone acknowledges.”
They could gauge it intuitively, but competing to set rankings was different. Probably some candidates for division chief had withdrawn because they didn’t want their levels exposed.
“Can I come?”
“Do as you like.”
At Ian’s permission, Berik bounced around excitedly. Romandro followed Acorella, waving.
“Lord Ian, I’ll handle the rest here. Once the treasury issues the check, we’ll process the tribute right away.”
“Thank you, Lord Romandro.”
“So, uh, you handle Berik.”
“…I nearly took back my thanks.”
Better paperwork than dragging that rascal around the palace—it’d shave years off his life—Romandro shuddered. Berik, oblivious, tugged at Ian’s collar and whined.
“So? Where’s it at? Mages fighting!”
* * *
It was officially called the Magic Training Room, but all the mages called it the Glass Dome. They’d erected walls of defensive mana stones to prevent damage to the outside during attack magic practice.
“Iaaaaan! Master! Fighting! Kill ’em all! Grind ’em to dust! Crush ’em! Stomp ’em flat! Aja aja!”
Berik stood out glaringly among the composed mages. He clenched his fists and bellowed what he called cheers. At Ian’s glance toward Nakina, she unhesitatingly grabbed Berik’s collar and sat him down.
“Is everyone here?”
It was the division chief from another department conducting the selection. He scanned the room, then paused at a point on the upper level. He bowed his head. Ian and the other candidates turned to look.
“Isn’t that Prince Marib?”
“The Judiciary Minister’s here too.”
“They’re all showing up quietly.”
“What brings a prince here? Oh.”
The mages murmured and glanced at Ian. What other reason? Clearly to witness firsthand the abilities of Ian, whom Prince Marib was backing.
Swish.
Ian and the mages placed hands over their hearts and bowed. The division chief cleared his throat and explained the mana confirmation ritual procedure.
“Face each other and fire mana. We check who pushes and who yields. No spells allowed—just pure mana orbs to prove your power. Time limit is three minutes total. No objections. Anyone who wants to withdraw now, do so. Nothing more unsightly than being pushed over by your opponent’s mana.”
A brief silence. One mage raised a hand.
“…I withdraw.”
“Very well.”
“I withdraw too.”
“Anyone else?”
They declared withdrawal while glancing at Ian. The next minister was practically decided, wasn’t it? Half the department internally supported him, and externally, he had the palace powerhouse’s backing. Plus, facing off against Wesley suggested his raw mana power was untouchable.
“I withdraw.”
“Then the rest…”
The division chief raised an eyebrow at Jean. As if asking if he wouldn’t withdraw. Ian looked at him too—his expression complex and troubled.
‘If Dillaina withdraws support, it’d be utterly meaningless.’
Beyond meaningless, it could be dangerous. Beating the candidate backed by Marib, Gail, and Dillaina to become minister? How long would that seat last?
No one wanted the victor of such intrigue—it’d be like drinking from a poisoned chalice.
“Jean?”
“…I, I won’t withdraw.”
Jean agonized before declaring it through gritted teeth. Pride, and a deep obsession with the minister position. Whether foolish or steadfast, time would tell.
“Very well. Then just Ian and Jean will do the mana confirmation. Won’t take long. One round decides it.”
Clap!
The division chief marked the endpoints with his hand. A signal to move far apart. As the two walked to their positions, everyone else exited the dome.
“Maaaster! Win! If you win, I won’t! Eat whole pig today!! Victory only for us!!”
“My eardrums, you punk. Shut it.”
“Ian! Show ’em!”
“He beat Wesley too!”
“Not beat, he, blocked him!”
“Jean! Be careful!”
“What, Jean didn’t withdraw? Unexpected?”
The mages’ clamor erupted. Magic light spread slowly across the dome. Soon, large numbers bloomed on the glass. Countdown.
“Ian, I don’t know what you did with Lady Dillaina, but it’s not over.”
-10. 9, 8….
“W-With this, I’ll prove it, prove it again.”
Jean stuttered, unable to overcome his tension. Beating Ian here could sway Dillaina’s heart, even flip the entire department’s opinion. Ian smiled genuinely and slowly released his mana.
Zing.
“Jean. It’s good to see you giving it your all to the end.”
“Shut up. Do you know how long I’ve waited for this since joining the Magic Department? What do you know, fresh meat!?”
-7, 6, 5….
“Do I need to?”
“What?”
“You don’t fully grasp my situation either.”
“This is pissing me off.”
-4, 3….
“Consider this not the right chance. The eternal truth is that persistence bears fruit. I respect that you didn’t give up.”
Jean bit his lip at those words. The courage to step forward despite knowing the path was blocked. The tenacity to cling to even a sliver of hope. It wasn’t now, but a new opportunity would come for Jean someday.
“Shut up!”
-2, 1….
Whoosh!
As the numbers vanished, Jean unleashed his mana. It swept the short grass and reached Ian in an instant.
But the moment it met Ian’s golden eyes.
Boom! Bang!
Crack!
Jean’s power bounced back, tearing apart in all directions. Endless light poured from Ian’s body. Their manas clashed midair in a contest of strength.
Or so they thought.
“Huh? Jean?”
“Wh-what!?”
“Jean! You idiot! What’s wrong?”
“Uwaaaah! Fuuuuck, what is this!”
Just a few seconds.
That’s all the time Jean held against Ian’s mana.
Unable to withstand the pushing force, his feet began sliding back. Sweat dripped, but no one noticed. Not even Jean himself.
“No!”
Boom!
The moment his strength slackened slightly, Jean’s body flew and slammed into the wall. Dust settled thickly, and the mages all shot to their feet.
Swish.
Ian elegantly waved the smoke away and looked up at the stands. As if asking why they hadn’t announced the verdict yet.
Then, a single flower drifted slowly down before him.
“Well done.”
It was the flower Marib had tossed. A white one to congratulate the victor.
At that, the surrounding mages conjured pollen with magic. One by one, the pollen they sent piled at Ian’s feet.
“Iaaaaan! That’s my master!”
“Well done, amazing, Ian!”
“What was that just now? I didn’t see wrong, right?”
“Jean! You okay? Jean! Snap out of it!”
“He was no slouch at the New Year’s gala either, but wow.”
Ian held up Marib’s flower in a light salute. The mages’ applause, mingled with awe, erupted alongside the scattering pollen.