Chapter 244
Chapter 244
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 244
Chapter Title: This is the Blood Wind
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“Your Highness.”
“Mm…”
“It’s time to rise.”
Siaoshi quietly roused Jin’s morning. As always, kneeling by the bedside, her voice was cautious.
Jin buried his face in the pillow, whining not quite like a sulk. No matter that he was of the imperial bloodline—even unconscious instincts couldn’t be helped. Siaoshi watched him for a moment before adding,
“Lord Ian woke at dawn.”
“…Huh?”
“He asked that Your Highness prepare and come straight to his office once you rise. He has a favor to ask.”
His half-closed eyes snapped open. The drowsy fog of sleep vanished like it had been doused in cold water. The boy threw off the covers and slipped into his slippers in one swift motion.
“Lord Ian’s awake? How’s his condition?”
“He looked fine. Your Highness, shall you go in your nightclothes?”
“Oh, right. Wait. Fetch the wash water! The wash water!”
Unlike his usual self, Jin hurried about in a fluster.
Meanwhile, Siaoshi calmly prepared his clothes, checked the temperature of the wash water, and neatly laid out his hair tools.
Jin sat on the edge of the bed, watching her. That brief wait calmed his excited heart.
“Did Lord Ian say what the favor was?”
“I didn’t hear the details, but it seemed like something only Your Highness could handle.”
“I see.”
While being dressed, Jin kept glancing toward the door. He was holding back as best he could, but even the attendants noticed his fidgeting. Their hands grew hurried in response.
“Your Highness. All done.”
“Well done.”
“Siaoshi, let’s go.”
Jin politely dismissed the attendants with a dignified gesture and left the bedroom. At first, his steps were a measured patter, but they soon gained force. Tap-tap-tap! By the time they reached Ian’s office, he was breathless.
Creak.
The door was half-open, likely from people coming and going on business. Jin cautiously announced himself and peeked in.
“Lord Ian?”
“Your Highness.”
Ian sat at the desk with a blanket over his shoulders. His complexion was still pale, but compared to when he’d been vomiting blood, he looked stabilized.
Ian set down his papers and greeted Jin.
“Good morning, Your Highness.”
“Good, good morning!”
“Yes. I heard from Captain Hail’s report. You did something huge at the Grand Council. You accomplished what I couldn’t—how ever can I thank you?”
Jin’s dimples slowly deepened. Like a flower bud bursting open, or sunset clouds turning rosy. Jin bared his teeth in a brilliant smile.
“Thanks are unnecessary! How are you feeling?”
“Thanks to you.”
Ian’s gaze flicked briefly to the corner sofa. There sprawled Captain Hail, half out of it. He’d been pouring mana into Ian for hours without relief, but the boy had no way of knowing.
“But what is it? You said you had a favor?”
“Before the Judiciary sets Haiman’s trial date, there’s much to prepare. As you know, granting and revoking noble titles is His Imperial Majesty’s sole prerogative.”
In the early days of the founding, when the emperor’s authority was strongest and the nation’s foundations unsteady, titles were granted and revoked frequently. It was a mark of imperial favor.
“As generations passed, the kingdom stabilized, and lands, titles, and noble privileges became hereditary and inheritable. Unless tied to grave crimes, even His Majesty couldn’t strip them without cause.”
Rustle.
Ian slid a few sheets of paper in front of Jin. [Decree on Temporary Title Revocation]. At the bottom were the seals of the Prime Minister and Ian himself.
“With the trial looming and Haiman and his nobles’ guilt clear, the prevailing opinion is to impose legal restraints now. If Your Highness approves, the Prime Minister will handle it. We can pressure the nobles from all sides—freezing assets, lifting detention limits, forcibly reducing private soldiers, and more.”
It wasn’t limited to Haiman. It would crush him and his allied factions at once.
The forced reduction of private soldiers, in particular, would effectively prevent any potential armed uprising.
“Can it be done?”
It was a decision even the emperor couldn’t make lightly—could proxies decide it among themselves? Ian dipped his pen in ink, signaling no need for worry.
“Yes. It’s feasible. But it requires the approval of Your Highness, the sole heir in the line of succession.”
Who would dare oppose the revocation of nobles’ titles? This wasn’t a power struggle between the imperial house and nobility. It was a one-sided imperial purge, a consolidation of power—anyone meddling recklessly wouldn’t keep their head.
“The Prime Minister and Administrative Branch are just awaiting Your Highness’s decision.”
“The Administrative Branch too?”
“Confiscated noble assets will benefit the national treasury. The Imperial Defense Ministry awaits their private soldiers and weapons, and the Culture Ministry wants their artworks.”
Everyone in the palace was salivating, biding their time for the chance. When you grab a stiff collar, snap it—that made the perfect example.
Jin reached for the pen in front of Ian and moved to sign without hesitation. At that moment, Ian’s hand gently blocked him.
“Your Highness.”
“Hm?”
“A signature bears your name, so even from a trusted hand, don’t give it lightly. Scrutinize every word, its meaning and nuance.”
Ah. Jin scratched his cheek with the pen tip and nodded.
“Read slowly, and ask if anything’s unclear.”
“Got it.”
The boy sat beside the sprawled Hail and flipped through the papers. The little emperor wouldn’t know. This was his first undertaking as crown prince—the part where ‘Jin Berosion’ would first appear in history.
And it was a [Decree on Temporary Title Revocation]. At ten years old, he’d be recorded as the one who subdued the central nobility.
“Mm. Lord Ian?”
Stuck on the first page, Jin shyly raised his hand with an embarrassed smile.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Explain this part, please.”
It was then, as Ian moved to lower his blanket and stand, that the door burst open. A mage barged in.
Bang!
Crash-clatter!
Jin froze, and the sprawled Hail reflexively pulled the boy behind him into a defensive stance. But realizing the intruder was a former mage colleague, they exhaled in relief.
“Petric. What’s this commotion?”
“L-Lord Ian. There’s some misunderstanding.”
One of the traitors named in Gail’s note. The guards and mages who followed seized him and dragged him out, but he clung to the door handle, thrashing.
“Lord Ian! Lord Ian!”
“Damn it, Petric! This only makes trouble for you!”
“I-I’m not a traitor. I swear!”
“His Highness the Prince is here! You trying to add to your crimes?”
“Sorry, Lord Ian. He slipped away from the interrogation room.”
“Please, hear me out! Please, please!”
What in the world? Jin, stunned, covered his mouth with the papers and just rolled his eyes. What was Ian thinking? His expression hadn’t changed.
“…Enough. Stop.”
“Lord Ian! It’s really not me.”
“Petric. If you’re not a traitor, cooperate with the investigation. You know better than anyone how capable your Magic Department colleagues are. And even if you were, I understand. Pursuing gain is human nature.”
Ian thought of Crony and the betrayers. They must have too. Under personal judgment, they chose a better path.
But—
“So understand me in turn, and pay the price.”
This was Ian’s judgment.
“Lord Ian, please, please…”
“Own your choices. Those who keep faith are all too foolish to chase gain? If you advanced seeking more, be prepared to lose it too. That’s the way of things. Petric.”
Petric groveled and begged, but Ian added firmly. The watching mage colleagues inhaled awkwardly.
“If you can’t stay in the Magic Department, you may leave the palace. But you know what that means.”
A talented individual who knew palace inner workings and wielded magic. Exiled for disloyalty, he’d likely become a threat. Tracking devices and Mana Sealing Stones were unavoidable.
“Take him away.”
“Y-Yes. Sorry. Petric, up.”
“Hic, ugh…”
Creak.
Petric was dragged out by his colleagues, and Hail leaned back over the sofa, clicking his tongue. Jin set down the papers and pressed his lips together.
“Your Highness. My apologies.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“…A mid-range fine refers to the amount aggravated under the National Tax Collection Law for violations of duty. For nobles, it’s typically 10 percent; otherwise, up to 40 percent can be imposed.”
Ian pointed to the part Jin had asked about and explained. The boy nodded repeatedly, but it was clear he couldn’t focus. Ian knelt and examined his face closely.
“Were you very startled?”
“I was startled, but that’s not it.”
“Then what?”
Jin smiled awkwardly.
“Someday, I’ll have to do as you did.”
The imperial palace—a place beautiful and cruel just in name. Mercy withered before power, and obedience masquerading as order festered overnight.
“Realizing that startled me.”
That even Jin would one day cut down someone once his own for survival. Willingly or not. Ian met the boy’s eyes and fell silent for a moment.
“You’re right. The time will come. When it does, don’t forget, don’t hesitate—sever them.”
“Understood.”
“But until then, I’ll do it in your stead.”
Ian smiled brightly. A boy who’d lived through one history. Because Jin existed, Ian did too—he’d help with all he had.
Jin’s dimples deepened again. The boy gripped the pen firmly and read the papers meticulously.
Scratch.
And with his own judgment and will, he signed. When Jin handed the papers back to Ian, Ian bowed his head and received them reverently.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“Do well.”
“Of course. Anyone outside?”
Knock-knock.
“Yes, Lord Ian.”
Ian tightly tied the leather strap around the decree. The rolled document was sealed in a wooden tube.
“Deliver to the Administrative Branch.”
“Yes, understood. Oh, and Lord Romandro’s awake. Lord Berik keeps crawling into the hallway and rolling around too.”
“Looks like they’re finally feeling better.”
The mage shrugged in disbelief. What, like some beast always escaping the room? Ian gestured for her to go, and she bowed and turned.
“What now?”
“Hm. The Administrative Branch and Prime Minister will handle execution, so we wait for word and move then. Before that.”
“Before that?”
Another task for him. Jin’s eyes sparkled.
“The Ruswena envoy has arrived, and Your Highness is the next in succession, no? Best to meet them yourself.”
He’d been dodging with a stomachache excuse, so no choice but to check personally.
“And Your Highness, have you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“Lady Dillaina’s condition is quite poor.”
“Even attendants can’t enter easily, it’s so dire.”
“…Best to see her soon.”
At Ian’s words, Jin paused. Wasn’t that a roundabout way of saying the crisis had come? The boy’s breath trembled faintly, but Ian pretended not to notice.
“Yeah. Got it.”
Ian extended his hand to leave, and Jin clasped it firmly.
So as not to waver in the palace’s blood wind.
* * *
Tap-tap-tap!
“Prince Jin’s approval signature.”
“Oh, it’s here! Permission granted on the decree!”
“Contact the Imperial Defense Ministry and Palace Guard.”
“From now on, head to the named houses and order title revocation. Arm up! Tell them to fling the gates wide!”
“Send Captain Jeyrat to Haiman’s side.”
“How many in total?”
“Haiman included, hm, seven central houses.”
Moments later, the Administrative Branch, having received Jin’s signature, scrambled to execute. As it spread through the departments, the palace moved as one for the first time in ages.
Aiming swords outward, not inward—how long had it been! The palace soldiers marched in perfect formation out the main gate.
Their targets: the central nobles’ mansions, Haiman’s stronghold.