Chapter 163
Chapter 163
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 163
Chapter Title: Proving the Truth
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Romandro sneaked a peek at the letter and stuck out his tongue in amazement. Father's name, of all things. He really did feel like a fool for thinking Ian would oppose it. Given Ian's pragmatic nature, there was no way he'd refuse.
Ian finished the letter and properly stamped it with his seal.
"Lord Romandro. Please take good care of this."
"Of course. Vivianna's messenger bird is swift—quite useful."
"And I have one proposal for you."
"What is it?"
Ian rested his chin on his interlaced hands and smiled. He had risen to minister and enjoyed every privilege, but one thing was missing. For perfect execution, he needed an aide to assist him.
"Would you consider transferring from the Administration to the Magic Department?"
"The Magic Department? Me?"
"Yes. You're well-versed in the palace's inner workings and have long served in public office, so your administrative skills are exceptional. I've seen it firsthand since the borderlands."
"No, no. If you put it like that, I—haha! Ahaha!"
"Ah, you're pleased. Weak to compliments."
Berik snickered, and Romandro was about to retort but held back. He didn't want to interrupt the flow.
He cleared his throat and straightened his tie. Being praised like this by the palace's hottest topic left him at a loss.
"First off, thank you for the compliment on my abilities."
"It's not a compliment—just my honest thought."
"But I'm not a mage."
"It doesn't matter. An aide is purely for convenience, and you'd be helpful to me even without being a mage."
Romandro scratched his head, looking genuinely troubled. Ian smiled brightly and handed the decision to him.
"Of course, your opinion matters most, Lord Romandro. A dispatched advisor role involves frequent travel, which is tough. And with a child on the way soon, you can't be wandering."
"That's true."
"The pay is much higher, too."
"Uh, ahem."
"And it'd be safer by my side."
Romandro's eyes widened at the unexpected words. What did that mean? Earlier in the letter, something about thin ice cracking—what was that about?
"Think it over and let me know your decision. The terms and conditions will be far better than before."
The Administration worked under the Emperor's authority. But even there, the princes' factions were seeping in bit by bit. In Gail's case, Molin and Chielonia were examples. Marib surely had his hidden forces, too. No need to look far—Romandro himself had been dispatched to the borderlands on his orders.
'When the princes clash, the Administration will fracture, too. And if the Emperor holds his seat amid that, it'll be uncontrollable.'
Now that he knew Marib was deeply involved in the Emperor's health, it wasn't a stretch. Ian looked up at the puzzled Romandro and just nodded. Romandro studied his expression closely, then suddenly realized something and shouted.
"I'll do it!"
"Yes?"
"So suddenly?"
Berik, who had been listening quietly, seemed startled too. He stopped chewing his gulla and turned to Romandro.
"Haina told me. Before you headed to the desert, Ian, you told the mansion staff to quit. Those who listened all survived, and those who didn't all died. Now that I see it, my gut's screaming. Feels like I'd die if I didn't listen to you."
The intuition of someone who'd lived a lifetime in the storm of intrigue. He'd only hinted vaguely, yet Romandro had caught on perfectly—without even knowing the chaos's true nature.
"You're exaggerating."
"Where's the exaggeration when it comes to life? I have no plans to die before my baby grows up."
With someone to be responsible for, he was even more cautious. In any case, Ian nodded gladly.
"Then, put in the transfer request. I'll process it right away. Looking forward to your help with the workload. As you can see, it's overwhelming."
At Ian's words, Romandro glanced around the office. The chair Ian sat in and the sofa Berik lounged on—everywhere else was buried in papers. The Magic Operations Division helped, but they were field agents, not great with details.
Knock knock.
"Come in."
"Lord Ian. Prince Marib's attendant is here."
"Ah. Tell him Prince Marib I'll be there shortly."
When the council ended, he'd been told to come to his palace. Ian looked up at the ceiling with annoyance. Rather than trusting Gail's curse, Marib would doubt the truth serum's reliability—for his own benefit. That would lead him to suspect and interrogate Ian soon enough.
"And about rescheduling the Magic Department agenda. The captains are asking what training they should do."
Ian pondered briefly as he changed his jacket. Those skilled in combat spells like offensive magic were limited to the Magic Operations Division. So the others...
"Any mages who can open portals?"
"Hmm, doesn't seem like it. Too advanced."
"What's a portal?"
"It connects one space to another."
"Isn't defying nature's laws forbidden magic?"
Ian and the Magic Department staff exchanged glances at Romandro's question. A pondering silence on how to explain.
"Twisting and turning space-time does go against nature's order, so yes, it's forbidden magic. But a portal is essentially a 'road.'"
"A road?"
"It links spaces, clearing a path. But the farther the distance, the exponentially more mana it requires to maintain. And if it breaks midway, the traveler's in danger—that's why it's rarely attempted."
He stopped there, figuring they'd understand once they saw it. He instructed them to train on portals and headed out.
A carriage waited in front of the building. Likely due to Marib's urgent summons, the attendant fidgeted anxiously as he guided Ian.
"We'll hurry, Minister."
"Ian! Want me to come along?"
"No need. Stay put—I'll be back."
Ian waved off Berik as he came running. Marib would be furious after losing to Gail. No telling what mishap might occur if he brought him. The carriage exited the Magic Department grounds without further delay, and Ian drew the window curtains.
Screeech!
* * *
At sunset, Marib's palace was dyed in deep orange glows as always. Unlike the warm hues, the atmosphere felt cold and precarious. Ian realized the guiding attendant was holding even his breath.
'Quite the outburst, it seems.'
Pitiful. Marib must have thought he'd drive Gail from the palace today. But Gail had survived spectacularly and even bluffed about an 'upper echelon.' Ian could imagine his mindset—and how he'd vented on his attendants.
A quiet bell announced Ian's arrival, like an ant crawling.
"Prince Marib, Magic Department Minister Ian Hielo has arrived."
"...Enter."
Creak.
The door opened, and disheveled-haired Marib turned to him. Raw, stripped of any princely dignity.
The room was even worse. Glass ornaments shattered everywhere, servants prostrated, bearing their master's wrath. Clothes torn, skin bruised.
"Lord Ian, sit."
"Your Highness. Are you alright?"
"Sit, sit."
He smiled brightly and pointed to the sofa. Marib tied his hair into a single ponytail and leaned back opposite. His eyes curved in a smile, yet no emotion registered.
"At the council, I said something regrettable."
"No, Your Highness. I was shocked too."
"You understand me, right? Gail's scheme was obvious, yet the truth serum I trusted failed to expose it."
Ian sat ramrod straight, staring ahead. He knew no answer would satisfy him now. Not now, anyway.
"No issue with the serum allowed me to prove it by drinking it myself. If you wish, I can fetch a fresh one and demonstrate now."
"Hahaha! Haha!"
Marib burst into laughter. The clear ring made the prostrated servants tremble in fear.
"Lord Ian. I trust you. No problem with the serum. But Gail blatantly evaded its effects, didn't he?"
A slip. He claimed to trust Ian, yet believed Gail evading the serum meant Ian's interference.
"I'll reinvestigate that matter."
"No need. Gail's already admitted the curse and dodged the serum. How do you reuse a torn net?"
He wouldn't trust truth serum henceforth. Ian's expression showed no change. Time for Marib to reveal what he truly wanted.
"So, I'll gauge your sincerity another way."
Your sincerity? Plural.
Ah. Ian smirked inwardly, recalling Marib's humiliation at the council. He'd called his subordinates to prove the serum, but none stepped forward. Must have been embarrassing before Gail.
"Your command."
"Magic Department Minister Ian Hielo. You're the current head of the Magic Department and, by His Majesty's order, the chief overseer of this incident."
"Yes."
"Thus, lift Gail's curse as soon as possible. Real or fake, I don't care."
Marib didn't believe in the curse. So its true resolution was irrelevant. Ian felt the same, but could guess the follow-up.
'Ah. You've finally bared your fangs.'
"Lifting the curse will be highly dangerous and complex. If Gail dies in the process, who would grieve?"
"Prince Marib."
"They might regret it. But if the one chaining Variel's fate dies, everyone would breathe easy."
Kill Gail.
By any means, announce the curse lifted and dispose of him simultaneously. Then I won't doubt your loyalty regarding the serum.
That's what Marib was saying.
"Your Highness. But if the curse is real, how will you handle the fallout? It endangers not just Variel, but you too."
"No. Absolutely not—I don't believe it. Wesley, dying of lovesickness, cast such a curse? One that benefits Gail?"
Marib slowly bowed his head to Ian, grinding his teeth in warning. His faith wavered—better grasp it quickly.
"Handle the aftermath well. Ian. Just because it's in your hand doesn't make it yours. Who put you there?"
He thought he did, but clearly wrong. Maybe he'd never realize.
That this position was one Ian had forged himself.