Chapter 30
Chapter 30
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Eyes That See Lies
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Ian stared only at the red flower inside the tent. Berik was still snoring soundly, and outside it was noisy.
Roughly piecing together the situation, Winchen's illness required a plant called Silask, and several expeditions had apparently set out for it. But no one had returned.
'And this is it?'
Silask. The identity of the potted plant that no one in the Bratz mansion had known about. Ian frowned lightly as he brushed the petals. How on earth had the bastard Ian obtained this in his lifetime?
'It was definitely said that Ian grew it himself. If Philia were nearby, I could have asked her.'
Could it be some famous remedy visible only in the blind spots of brothels? Like Gula. Something that, if discovered, could lead humanity to leap forward once more.
At that thought, Ian could feel his heart pounding.
"Um."
At that moment, Berik woke up. His face was puffy from the meat and alcohol he'd consumed the day before. Ian tossed him a towel, signaling him to hurry and get ready, and Berik stumbled out of the tent half-asleep.
"Ah. It's the outsider."
"Shh. It's the outsider."
"He went to the banquet yesterday, right?"
"Hey! Did you have sweet dreams? What went into your bellies was the finest stuff!"
Pushing through the murmuring crowd, Ian headed toward the one place that felt somewhat familiar. It was Winchen's tent, the first place he'd gone to right after arriving yesterday. The scent of Gurut Leaf was even thicker now. Nersarn turned his head in puzzlement upon spotting Ian.
"What business do you have?"
"Good morning. I followed the commotion, and it led me here."
"This has nothing to do with you. Stay in your tent until Kakantir's message arrives."
From now on, Ian would live here while earning his keep. Given his position, he would probably be tasked with teaching the higher-ups the Variel language and customs.
As for Berik... who knew. As Su had said, he might be worked like a slave, or perhaps recognized as Ian's aide.
"Winchen the clan leader seems to be in critical condition."
"Ian Bratz. You're talking too much right now."
The moment he uttered the clan leader Winchen's name, the surroundings fell silent in an instant. Some clicked their tongues in disbelief, while others shot him openly furious glares. If he weren't dealing with Nersarn, trouble might have erupted right then and there.
"Noise from all directions since morning—hard not to hear even if I tried."
"Sorry, but you—"
"They were calling it Silask, a flower that never wilts once it blooms. Having that alone would restore Clan Leader Winchen's health, right?"
Nersarn hadn't known Ian for long, but he knew he wasn't the type to disregard the mood like this. Ian glanced around and whispered quietly.
"I have something to discuss, so please let me meet with the clan leader."
That was enough eyes on him. If what he had was indeed Silask, let the credit seep in among them like the wind. Since he needed to draw out friendly feelings, a bit of attention was necessary.
Ssshh—
Nersarn led Ian not to Winchen's chamber, but to the adjacent barracks. Inside, Kakantir and the other leaders were discussing the expedition.
"—but that man just had a son."
"The fifth one. He has four grown children already, so there shouldn't be any issues for the remaining family."
"And he's especially skilled with a bow..."
"Kakan."
At Nersarn's call, Kakantir turned his head. He still had a Gurut Leaf rolled in his mouth.
"What's the matter?"
"Ian Bratz says he has something to say about Silask."
"To be precise, something to ask."
"...Sit."
Ian took a seat amid the thick haze of smoke. The old men sitting in a row beside him watched him with all sorts of expressions.
"Please explain what the Silask plant is. I have my suspicions, and I want to confirm if they match."
"Suspicions? Ah. You don't know what Silask is?"
Ian answered with silence.
Kakantir exhaled a light puff of smoke and gave a nod to the councilor seated nearby. The councilor pulled a single sheet of paper from his robes. It seemed to be a page from a plant guide written in an unknown language.
"The illness that befalls those who receive the god's will directly, like Clan Leader Winchen, is called Silask. They contain that energy their whole lives, but in their old age, they can no longer endure it and shatter into pieces."
The councilor's explanation continued.
"There are records from ages ago of Cheonryeo Tribe members saving merchants from the southern lands in the desert and obtaining Silask seeds in return... but these days, it's impossible to find."
It was impossible to gauge just how far back their "ages ago" went. After all, no one in the current Cheonryeo Tribe even remembered Winchen's younger days.
While she had endured for so long, the records on Silask had faded into obscurity, and it was only now that they had finally grasped a clue.
Ian offered appropriate words of comfort.
"There aren't many who receive the god's will in Variel, so that's probably why."
He'd nearly slipped and said "gypsy." Winchen was an important figure to them, but in the Variel Empire, she was just one old gypsy among many. At best, one with actual skill amid a sea of frauds. That was about it.
Gypsies wandered their whole lives, so no one knew how they ended up in their final years. It was more accurate to say no one cared.
The councilor furrowed his brow.
"At some point, Silask vanished, and well... now it's as you see."
"Is Silask perhaps... a red flower that never wilts once it blooms?"
"If the records are accurate."
At that, Kakantir creased his brow deeply.
"I smell the scent of Silask in your words."
This guy's a total bloodhound.
Ian nodded with a bright smile.
"Actually, I've seen a flower in Bratz territory that I suspect is Silask. It was red, and once it bloomed, it never wilted."
Even the sun sets once a day, yet a mere flower doesn't wilt? It had to be something special. Kakantir pressed Ian at his words.
"Is it true?"
"I was shocked myself. That's why I came right away when I heard about Silask."
Now, what to do. If the timing aligned perfectly, there was a way to lure them to Bratz.
When the emperor's central army turned Bratz into a wasteland, riding on the power of the Cheonryeo Tribe would save not only his life but possibly secure the territory itself.
But...
'Winchen being on her last breath is the problem.'
Would she hold out until the central army reached Bratz? Hard to say. The fact that the clan leader had rushed out during the banquet meant she was in a state where she could breathe her last at any moment.
"Tell me the details."
"I have a request first."
In that case, he'd have no choice but to use it another way.
Kakantir didn't hide his displeasure at Ian's words. Haggling at a time like this, with the clan leader's life on the line.
"A request? If Winchen's breath stops before that, your head will roll too?"
"Please treat me not as an object of peace negotiations, but as a guest of the Variel Empire."
Without the emperor's explicit orders, he couldn't use terms like "envoy" or "representative." But the intent was much the same. He wanted assured safety for his life and proper respect.
"Bratz is one piece of the great Variel. The palace is aware of Bratz's peace efforts, and in the end, my presence here stems from the palace's will."
Kakantir slyly curled the corner of his mouth at Ian's honeyed claims, his gaze saying, *Well, well?*
"Is that so? Then let me ask: if your head rolls right now, will the palace march an army all the way here? If what you say is true, they ought to, right?"
"I'm not sure about marching an army, but it would certainly cause problems. After all, the enduring spirit of the imperial palace resides within me."
Bang!
No sooner had the words left his mouth than one of the old men slammed the desk. It was in their language, so Ian had no idea what was said. Something about a snake's tongue, maybe...
The others remained silent, but their eyes suggested they saw Ian's words as nonsense.
"The spirit of the imperial palace?"
Was this Ian claiming to be of imperial blood? With Deruga as his father?
"I can't go into details. What I can say for certain is that my body was inherited from Deruga Bratz, while my spirit is that of the imperial palace. I don't think it's a difficult matter for the clan leader to accept."
"Fine. Yeah, fine. It's because of scum like you that the god sent us Winchen. Hey!"
At Kakantir's shout, two warriors approached and seized Ian's arms. Berik, waiting outside the tent, startled and started to rush in, but Ian lightly raised a hand to stop him.
*It's done.*
They were taking him to Winchen. Ian shot Berik a look to wait, and soon they reentered the clan leader's tent.
"Winchen."
"Ahh..."
Her breathing was ragged, but she seemed conscious. The attendants gently helped her sit up, and her cloudy eyes remained fixed toward the sky.
"This one claims to know something about Silask."
"To be precise, he says he has his suspicions."
"...Suspicions, you say. Is it true?"
Saliva dribbled from the corner of Winchen's mouth. She nodded in response instead of speaking. At once, the attendants let out joyful cries, and Nersarn, who had followed behind, brightened as if he'd found a ray of light.
"And he also claims that his spirit is that of the Variel imperial palace."
Did she have any corrections?
Kakantir looked down at Ian, trailing off. Right here, if Winchen shook her head, he planned to chop off Ian's legs. He needed to staunch the bleeding properly since he still had to hear about Silask.
"Ah..."
At that moment, Winchen sharply drew in a breath. Her body trembled as she closed her eyes. She never closed her eyes while discerning lies.
"......!"
And soon, everyone fell silent. Winchen placed her two hands, dry as twigs, over her chest in a gesture of respect. Then, she bowed forward as far as she could manage. To anyone watching, it was a greeting reserved for someone precious.
"Winchen?"
"Uu..."
And with that, the clan leader toppled sideways. The councilor rushed over to check her pulse, while the attendants ran off to fetch warm water. Ian watched her quietly and murmured.
"Silask is in my tent."
Kakantir froze in shock at his words. With no orders from the clan leader, Nersarn, who had been listening, dashed outside and shouted.
"To the outsider's tent! Go find the red flower!"
"Eh? Wh-what? Why?"
"Hurry! Every second counts!"
"Ian! What is it? What do we do? Should we grab it and run?"
Ian smiled faintly at Berik's shout.
"It's done. It's my first gift to them as a guest of Variel."
Ian informed Berik in a dignified tone. In Winchen's tent, thick with the scent of Gurut Leaf, Ian stood as an equal to Kakantir for the first time.