Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: The Hidden Thing
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“The bastard isn’t even registered in the family registry, and you send him here? This is deception!”
“You’re right! How could you stab us in the back like this!”
Ian sat back leisurely, watching the elders erupt in fury. They couldn’t believe they’d been done in like this at an official peace negotiation.
“Let me emphasize once more: I am indeed my father’s son. That much is clear.”
“Then what about your birth mother?”
“Well.”
Ian gave a wry smile at Kakantir’s question. It was a silent invitation for them to interpret it as they wished. The situation was already tense enough. There was no need to mention she was from a brothel. It wasn’t important anyway.
“I’d love to snap your neck right now.”
“But you’re the leader of the Cheonryeo Tribe, Kakantir. I’m sure you’ll make a wise decision.”
Kakantir let out an incredulous laugh and growled. Having declared he would treat Ian as a guest of the empire, he couldn’t just kill him now. It was a matter of conviction.
‘But does that mean we can attack Bratz? No. Now that we know the central army is coming down, that would be reckless too.’
“You.”
Kakantir, utterly baffled, rolled and chewed a gurut leaf. It had been a while since he’d dropped the honorific “Lord.” Whether intentional or not, the fact that Ian’s head was still attached proved he was still being shown some respect.
“Keep blabbering. Got more to say?”
“If it’s what you want, Kakantir, then yes.”
The murmurs from the elders behind him grew louder. Ian smiled brightly and continued.
“Ah, yes, you must. More specifically, you want to know exactly what will happen and how.”
“I hope it’s interesting. Enough to clear the noise from my cluttered head in one go.”
Kakantir’s gaze fixated obsessively on Ian’s nape. He seemed to be exerting every effort to suppress his impulses.
“Let’s assume. If I become the lord of Bratz with the Cheonryeo Tribe’s help, I’ll turn Bratz into the greatest territory in the Bariel Empire.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s the only way to support someone like me, born on the frontier.”
“And then?”
“Once I’ve built up enough power, I’ll head to the center—straight to the imperial palace, to be precise.”
Kakantir’s brown eyes gleamed. What was this little punk saying? Go to the center? That meant walking right into the empire’s jaws.
Regardless of what he planned to do there, didn’t he know how a territory falls apart when its lord is absent? It either rots from internal corruption or gets smashed by external invaders. That’s the natural course.
“That’s why I crossed the desert without running away, even without being registered in the family. Kakantir, we need to change now.”
A true alliance and peace.
Not just trading goods and binding ourselves with numbers and letters. A partner the lord could turn his back to. It also meant viewing the Cheonryeo Tribe not as frontier barbarians, but as allies.
“I don’t know if it’s interesting, but my stray thoughts are gone.”
“Good.”
As Kakantir rolled and chewed another gurut leaf, Nersarn raised his hand.
“Lord Ian, there’s one thing we need to address.”
“Please, go ahead.”
“When the central army arrives, will Derga have any time to spare? Time to send a message, that is.”
Wow. Ian felt like applauding. Kakantir, you’ve got a solid advisor there. As befitting the tribe leader’s strategist, his insight was deep. He’d pointed out something no one else had considered.
“Probably. They’ll need to conduct an investigation. Generously speaking, that gives about half a month. In fact, the center is coming down fully convinced.”
“That makes it even more of a problem.”
“Nersarn, what do you mean?”
Kakantir and the other elders couldn’t grasp the implication.
“A cornered rat will bite a cat. If there’s no escape, Derga’s only option is execution—and not just him, but the whole family. He could raise an army to resist. And...”
“He’ll ask the Cheonryeo Tribe for help.”
They had just signed a peace pact a few days ago, after all. Kakantir finally understood and nodded.
“We can’t refuse.”
“Exactly. Especially right after the peace negotiations.”
It was political suicide before even considering conviction. Breaking the peace without justification would make the Cheonryeo Tribe declare themselves barbarians.
It could even give the empire a pretext later. Kakantir found the situation distasteful. Either way, they’d be dancing to the empire’s tune.
“The peace pact is the issue. It’s put us in a tough spot, so we need to resolve that first. Any way to nullify it?”
Nersarn shook his head.
“Not easy.”
“Why not? They deceived us. They sent a bastard not even in the registry.”
“Kakan, he may not be registered, but Ian is still Derga’s son.”
“True. Well said.”
Ian chimed in agreement with Nersarn.
“Besides, my father announced I was his bastard before the peace talks. And they won’t know I delayed registration by colluding with the center, so even if we object, it won’t hold.”
“Sounds like you’re begging us to kill you. Keep talking.”
“I have a way.”
The room fell silent at Ian’s declaration. Even Kakantir clamped his mouth shut, waiting for what came next.
“All history is built on pretexts. And all pretexts come from people. I’ll make one for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“A pretext to break the peace pact. And one to refuse when Derga asks for help.”
Then Ian picked up a gurut leaf from the edge of the table. His eyes shone as if to say this was the answer.
“My father secretly instructed me. When I return to Bratz briefly for his birthday next year, to smuggle in gurut leaves.”
“Good lord. Ha!”
Kakantir burst into derisive laughter at Ian’s prompt response. He’d said he’d planned it before crossing the desert, and it seemed no lie.
“The lord himself ordering smuggling—no less of the strictly forbidden gurut leaves—through the peace envoy, the symbol of peace. Isn’t that enough?”
“It is. More than enough for that backstabbing bastard we’d love to grind up. Evidence?”
“Unfortunately, nothing visible right now. But that can be confirmed through Winchen as well.”
That would let them protest strongly, even throwing in the registry issue. Protest? No need. They could just unilaterally break it, and the other side wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.
“Of course, I had no intention of doing so.”
“What you’ve said today will be sworn beyond Winchen—to the gods.”
“If you wish.”
“Damn it. What the hell is Bratz...”
He’d thought Derga only had idiots like Chel in his bloodline. Ian’s handwritten letter had reinforced that belief.
But look at the atmosphere now. A blond, green-eyed outsider was leading the Cheonryeo leaders.
“...Is that all you want? A statement of support from the Cheonryeo Tribe.”
“That’s enough. I’ll handle the rest.”
No matter how they sliced it, there was no flaw in the deal. If anything, it slightly favored them. In the worst case, Ian might lose his life, but the tribe could just retreat to the desert. If the center invaded, they’d fight with the desert at their back as always.
He drummed the table and added one last thing.
“We won’t shed blood for you.”
“I don’t want that either.”
“Not afraid of death?”
“Not at all.”
Ian’s bold attitude. Kakantir asked out of pure curiosity. This kid, so much younger, had the guts to overshadow Cheonryeo warriors.
“I’ve died once and come back.”
“Impressive resolve.”
It wasn’t a metaphor, but Kakantir didn’t catch on. How could he? That Ian was living a second life under divine protection.
Plus, Ian still had an ace up his sleeve.
He was a mana user.
“List specifically what the Cheonryeo Tribe wants, including tracking silask—no paper trail.”
“We have time. It’ll be a pleasure negotiating.”
Ian smiled brightly, expressing his gratitude. Then he turned to the physician still standing there dazed, watching the proceedings.
“No medicine to dispense?”
“Huh? Oh! Yes! Right away!”
The physician jumped up in surprise, grabbing the potted plant. He planned to feed just one root first and observe the effects. Decisions on the rest could wait.
Whether to cultivate it for future generations or offer it to Winchen depending on the condition.
“Then I’ll take my leave.”
Ian headed for the tent flap. Kakantir grabbed him and asked, half not expecting an answer. His rough speech had softened considerably by now.
“Lord Ian. Does your aim for the center have to do with the emperor’s mind?”
From Kakantir’s perspective, it was a genuine curiosity. Father a frontier noble, but mind tied to the palace? Clearly, the mother he wouldn’t mention held the clue. Ian saw he wasn’t expecting a real answer and just smiled.
Outside, the tribe members were all gathered, ears perked.
“He’s out!”
“We heard yelling inside, but he’s alive.”
“Ooh, for real.”
As Ian and Berik took a step forward, the crowd parted like the Red Sea. In the midst, a familiar face: Su. Ian approached her with a request.
“Su.”
“Huh? Oh.”
“If you have time, could you help us out?”
“With what...?”
Her eyes shook in confusion. But they soon sparkled like stars at his words.
“Train Berik.”
* * *
“Idiot! Slug!”
“Shut up?”
“Even desert ants are faster than you!”
“Damn it! Grab me and your nose really bleeds!”
Splash-!
Ian ate fruit in the shade, watching the sandstorm they kicked up. It was the trace of Berik’s kicks and Su’s movements. Two hours under the blazing sun, and neither showed signs of tiring.
“Berik! You okay?”
“What?”
“...Never mind.”
“Don’t talk to me! Fuck!”
Splash!
He was definitely picking it up fast. Must’ve adapted to the heat after a few days. And the environment amped up the training intensity with the sand.
“Berik, you’re really something.”
“My foot keeps slipping!”
“Oh? Yeah? Mine doesn’t. How much blubber you got on your legs that only yours slip?”
“This is muscle! Fuck!”
“Yeah, yeah, sure.”
Swish! Whoosh!
While they kept exchanging moves, Ian just munched on sweet, cool fruit. He’d planned to slowly win over the Cheonryeo Tribe, but silask had neatly sped things up.
Until returning to Bratz, Ian could just enjoy the Great Desert. Ah! When was the last time he’d relaxed like this? It felt like a true gift from the gods.
“Lord Ian.”
Then, a tribe member approached him, carrying a tray with fresh wine and Ian’s potted plant.
“Winchen has finally opened his eyes.”
“Oh? Has he?”
Winchen had fainted right after greeting Ian. After trickling silask-infused water into his mouth bit by bit, improvement came slowly but surely. Heartbeat stabilized, seizures gone, color returning to his face.
“Good.”
“...Thank you.”
The nameless tribe member offered cautious thanks. The village vibe was crystal clear. Festivals had nothing on this. Ian responded by sipping his cup.
“Th-they say there’ll be an official welcome feast for you soon.”
“Yeah? It already feels like one.”
“...Anyway, thank you so much. Everyone’s grateful to you, Lord Ian.”
“No problem.”
“Oh, right. And we found this when moving the whole clump of dirt.”
He set down the pot. Inside the empty pot was a necklace. A silver chain with an amber gem.
“This is yours, right, Lord Ian? Did you hide it?”