Chapter 232
Chapter 232
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 232
Chapter Title: Imperial Blood
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“Arsen!”
“Let go!”
As the two drew closer, a horrified Dillaina hurriedly tried to pull the child away.
But Arsen’s gaze fiercely pursued Ian. Like a young beast that had spotted an amusing toy. Instead, he roughly shook off his mother’s hand and grabbed Ian by the collar.
“Fun.”
“…….”
Arsen’s eyes gleamed. He had unleashed his ability once more. Ian could feel a primal power surging to the tips of his senses, but it fizzled out the moment it reached him.
Crunch!
The bones in the back of Arsen’s hand, gripping the collar tightly, turned white.
How could he forget this? The Emperor had been like this, Marib had been like this, and so had Gail and Jin.
They proved divine protection simply by existing, and Arsen had no choice but to realize his limits. Right here, right now, just like the bones in that hand.
“You’re imperial blood, aren’t you? Huh? That’s weird. Where did this come from?”
Arsen whispered softly as well. His cheeks were flushed with excitement. He had learned something tremendous—so how should he make use of it?
The more he turned it over in his mind, the more laughter bubbled up. As the boy’s shoulders shook with giggles, Dillaina watched her son in bewilderment. It was unfamiliar, and that unfamiliarity scared her.
“…What a beastly display. Look at the eyes of those watching you.”
Ian murmured calmly and firmly as he detached the hand.
At that, Arsen’s excited vision cleared in an instant. Dillaina and the ministers, the priests, even the mages—all were watching the two with shock and confusion.
“Aha.”
But so what? Arsen’s ability had been nullified by Ian the moment it manifested, leaving no trace.
His behavior was odd, sure, but what of it? Couldn’t it just be dismissed as a power struggle between the two ahead of the grand event?
“Mother. Let’s go.”
“Huh? Y-yes.”
Arsen grinned, and Dillaina reluctantly lifted the corners of her mouth. Her sweet son, as always. Whatever Ian had just said must have been wicked.
“Lord Ian. I’m just as excited for tomorrow as you are. Ah, it’s truly astonishing.”
He shook his head and clicked his tongue, his sincerity evident. Arsen boarded the carriage with Dillaina, and the recovered officials followed behind. The whirlwind procession of carriages gradually vanished back the way they had come.
Neigh!
Dillaina and Arsen sat facing each other.
The mother cautiously grasped her son’s hand. Arsen, who had been glaring at Ian out the window until the last moment, turned his head with a smile. Pure delight was etched on his face.
“Arsen. What did Ian say earlier?”
“Why? What will you do if you know?”
“If it was something that might upset you—”
“How many children has Father sired?”
“Huh?”
Including the Third Prince who had died from a fall, those with succession rights ended with Jin. Below that were children born to women without status in the palace, so they held no meaning.
“About a dozen. But don’t worry. They’re all living like they’re dead outside the palace. As long as we secure the succession, no one can challenge you.”
“Hmm. Is that so?”
Arsen replied indifferently. His mind was filled only with the image of Philia he had seen in Gail’s chambers.
She looked just like him, as if stamped from the same mold, so she must be his birth mother. But then, was his father imperial blood? He had heard it was the bastard son of the destroyed Deruga family?
‘How should I connect this? Huh? Jin, do you know?’
Whether this way or that, something amusing was sure to unfold. Unable to hold back, Arsen burst into laughter once more.
“Hahaha!”
Imperial blessings or whatever—they were all meaningless. He was now just one step away from seizing the empire. And now Ian’s secret had rolled right into his lap. What could be more perfect?
Clop clop!
Meanwhile, Romandro approached Ian, leaving the departing carriages behind. Ian brushed off his disheveled clothes and waved a hand, signaling he was fine. A bright red scratch mark stood out on his pale nape. It seemed Arsen had scratched him while grabbing the collar.
“I-Ian. Are you alright?”
“What happened, exactly? Why was Prince Arsen acting like that?”
“Gasp, there’s a scratch on your nape!”
No one dared touch him and could only hover anxiously.
Ian finished straightening his clothes, then turned to the High Priest and the priests. Their robes hid their expressions, but they were whispering closely together, clearly flustered. They had sensed the unnatural atmosphere the moment they entered the palace.
“Alright, let’s move again. The empire’s citizens are waiting outside. High Priest and Langko, follow me.”
Ian snapped his fingers, and the dazed guards jolted into action. They loaded the priests’ luggage onto carriages and hurriedly cleared the site. Whatever it was, getting caught in the quarrels of superiors always meant blood for the underlings. Best to make themselves scarce.
“Um, Minister Ian.”
“Speak.”
High Priest Liril, walking beside Ian, cautiously called out to him. This was not the imperial palace they had imagined. It had never been a place brimming with love and hope, but it shouldn’t feel this precarious and chaotic either. The palace was the center of the world—it had to stand firm under that weight.
“What has happened in the palace? Isolated from the world, we’re slow to hear outside news. Leaving aside the odd behavior of Lady Dillaina and Prince Arsen, where is Prince Jin?”
“Prince Jin has made the Magic Department his residence.”
“The Magic Department?”
“Before that, Priest Langko.”
“Yes?”
Ian stopped in his tracks. Before meeting Abidel and Makael, there was something he needed to clarify in advance.
“When you received the oracle, what was the voice of the god like?”
“The voice of the god? My ability cannot even begin to express its greatness.”
A faint emotion colored his voice, as if Langko were reliving that day’s glory. Ian pressed gently and asked again.
“I’m asking about your memory. I know the god is great. For reference, Abidel and Makael’s descriptions were quite intriguing.”
“…It was a deep, heavy echo, as if the ground beneath me shook. Every word carried a strong weight that shook my heart.”
It matched Makael’s claim of heaviness more than Abidel’s thin voice.
Ian nodded as if he had expected as much. Then he recalled Arsen’s gleaming eyes.
‘He tried to use his power on me earlier.’
Ian rubbed his nape. It was clearly an attempt at ‘Serro,’ a type of mental magic.
The best of his peculiar tricks, and his talk of imperial blood afterward suggested it had been blocked by ‘Neutralization.’
‘The imperial blessing remains intact, meaning I’m still Ian.’
Not bastard Ian, but Emperor Ian.
He turned to Romandro and instructed.
“Assign more personnel to Prince Gail’s chambers.”
“Personnel? Why?”
Arsen had begun to suspect Ian’s bloodline. Naturally, he would dig into Philia, his birth mother. Less than a full day remained. The chance of Arsen exposing it in the palace was slim. Who would believe it anyway, and even if they did, it gained Arsen nothing.
‘If the Magic Department Minister is imperial blood, it invalidates Arsen’s push for the first imperial mage. Rather than raising it officially, he’ll use it to unsettle those around me.’
Philia.
…Or perhaps Jin.
Romandro stared at Ian, who hadn’t answered his question. Noticing the gaze, Ian just smiled and walked ahead.
“Didn’t you see it earlier, Arsen’s odd behavior? Just in case.”
Philia had Nerthorn and warriors, and politically, her options were limited.
But Jin? In the eye of the political storm, he would hurl Ian’s secret in some way to shake things up.
‘I’ll protect Jin’s side myself.’
“Ride.”
Ian personally opened the carriage door and escorted High Priest Liril and Langko inside. Once in the secluded, enclosed space, he revealed the hidden truth.
“Abidel’s oracle was false.”
“…Pardon? What are you saying?”
“Ten years ago, what she heard was not the voice of the god, but the voice of a beast. It was the devil’s scheme, born of hatred for Roberside, to bring ruin to Bariel. I am certain that devil is Arsen.”
Instead of replying, the High Priest pulled back her robe. As expected, sparse white hair and tree-bark wrinkles bore the weight of years. The elder furrowed his brows in disbelief.
“…Even when I first heard the oracle, I wasn’t this shocked. Are you truly Ian of the Magic Department? This is the Carbo Temple. The Carbo that has stood since the founding.”
In contrast, Langko bowed his head in fear, clasping his hands as if praying for forgiveness for the blasphemous words.
“I know. I understand if you can’t believe it right away. But your understanding isn’t what matters now. The Mana Confirmation Ritual is right around the corner, and I will reveal it there.”
“Lord Ian.”
“What I want is one thing.”
Clop clop!
The carriage shook violently. The High Priest gripped the armrest hesitantly, but her startled gaze remained fixed on Ian.
“I want you, with your vast experience, to make one final confirmation: whether the Mana Confirmation Ritual I’ve prepared can proceed. And if you see a beast…….”
Splash!
The carriage wheel sliced cleanly through a puddle. Then, the rainbow from the Magic Department garden faintly resurfaced in his mind. Ian’s charge forward, this very moment, was what ignited it.
“Help me eliminate the beast. And grant Prince Jin a new life. That is the only way for Carbo to atone for its mistake.”
“Lord Ian. What in the—”
As the High Priest began to protest, the Magic Department building came into view through the window. Abidel and Makael stood on the steps. The two, robes shed to reveal their faces, were running toward them with tears in their eyes.
‘Impossible.’
Unbelievable, but Liril did not voice it. Ian hadn’t asked for a response. She fell silent for a moment, tracing the holy sign with her fingertips. Again and again.
* * *
Clink.
Gail stirred his soup with a spoon. Sure enough, a round something hooked up.
A bead slightly larger than a pill. He set it aside and smashed it lightly. With a tink, a tightly rolled paper unfurled.
“Ridiculous.”
The rumor of his defection must have spread faster than expected. Every mealtime, bits of paper hid in his soup or bread. Contacts from retainers eager to follow him to Ruswena.
Gail irritably rubbed his forehead.
Knock knock.
“Your Highness. I heard glass breaking. Are you alright?”
“…….”
Philia peeked her head in. Gail pushed the bowl aside, signaling to clear the meal without a word. His drawer already held five such notes. Notes in the handwriting of turncoats Ian desired.
“Your meals have been so meager lately. I’m worried.”
“What’s there to worry about? I’m dying anyway.”
“…Tomorrow, I probably won’t be able to eat with you. Ian is holding the Mana Confirmation Ritual, so I think I have to go.”
Philia smiled awkwardly as she cleared the bowl. But her fingertips trembled ever so slightly. She had heard the palace rumor late. On the day of the Mana Confirmation Ritual, either Arsen or Ian would die.
“Why?”
“Oh, you haven’t heard, Your Highness.”
Philia hesitated, then relayed the palace rumor. That Arsen was a beast, or if not, Ian would die. Gail’s eyes widened as he slowly turned his head.
“What?”
“So I’m going to check. It probably won’t change much even if I’m there, but I’m worried.”
‘…Arsen is a beast?’
Gail chewed on his mana cigarette, deep in thought. He didn’t know how the situation was unfolding, but one thing was clear……
“Philia.”
“Yes?”
“One request.”
Philia tilted her head, plate in hand. A request? From a prince to me?
“Tomorrow, take me to the Mana Confirmation Ritual too.”