Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Palace Investigation Squad
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The necklace absorbed the sunlight. Beyond calling it 'amber-colored,' Ian couldn't define it any further. Even Ian, who had lived his life surrounded by treasures, was seeing this gem for the first time.
'Ian. What the hell is this?'
Why had a bastard from a brothel been raising Silask and storing something like this inside it? Or rather, starting from the assumption, maybe Ian hadn't known.
'His status aside, his actions don't match. Knowing his mother Philia's hardships, if he'd known it was valuable, he would've sold it to help the household.'
And above all, the necklace hidden in the soil. Clearly, the one who planted the Silask had buried it.
'Did someone entrust it to him? Asked him to take good care of it?'
That was the most plausible guess right now. Didn't it make some sense that way? He treated it preciously but didn't bring it when entering the Bratz estate.
Clink.
"I have no idea. Truly."
The most baffling thing, even with eyes wide open, was the existence of the bastard Ian. This little kid was the only one who always plunged him into contemplation.
"What's so unknowable?"
"Did it all shatter?"
"Who said it shattered! It was bubbling away!"
"Yeah, yeah. Alright."
Ian replied while putting on the necklace. Whatever it was, now that he'd found it, he had no intention of letting it leave his body. The Cheonryeo tribesman who brought the flowerpot added,
"And after resting, the chieftain wishes to see you."
"Really? Then I'll go now. Since it's all shattered."
"I said it didn't shatter? I'm not shattered!"
"Wipe the sand off your mouth first. Berik."
Ian chuckled as he left the tent. With Winchen regaining consciousness, it was probably to verify if there was any lie in Ian's words. And above all, they needed to fine-tune the details of the priority negotiation rights between the Cheonryeo Tribe and Ian.
"......?"
"Yeah!"
Ian paused while lifting the tent flap. Cheonryeo tribesmen were gathered at the entrance. Berik, following behind, also poked his head out to look around.
After an awkward silence, they placed what they held onto the ground. From soft Kusille covers to sturdy baskets and more. They were items to enrich daily life.
"What are all these?"
"...Things needed to live in the desert. We gathered them. They're nothing compared to what you gave Chieftain Winchen, but Cheonryeo warriors never forget a favor or grudge until death."
Whether ordered to treat Ian as a guest, it was the first time hearing honorifics from them. He smiled brightly and nodded.
"Thank you. I'll put them to good use."
"Th-then......"
They scattered in a fluster, embarrassed, and Ian couldn't hold back his laughter.
"What's so funny?"
"Aren't they cute? Even those seen as barbarians have humanity when looked at closely. Because they're human, after all."
"Here comes the sage."
"Berik. Sort these items while I'm gone."
Damn it! Leaving Berik jumping up and down, retracting the sage comment, Ian headed to Winchen's tent. Inside lay an old man not much different from the first day.
Rustle-!
"Lord Ian. Come in."
Kakantir had been kneeling close, whispering something. Seeing it this way, the old man's stature was clear. The one leading the tribe knelt without hesitation.
"Chieftain Winchen. I'm truly glad you're recovering."
The old man smiled faintly, glancing toward the entrance. The sage's smile, returned from death's door, brought peace just by looking.
"I called you to conclude our previous conversation."
"Very well. Everything I told Clan Leader Kakantir is true, and I swear it upon the heavens. Of course, there are a few facts I haven't mentioned yet, but they're unrelated to the Cheonryeo Tribe."
Ian smiled brightly, striking first. Kakantir's satisfied expression matched the unreserved attitude. Winchen clasped his hands and bowed to Ian again.
"The gods......"
A voice squeezed out with effort. His condition was poor; they'd thought he'd never speak again. Attendants pressed close to not miss the old man's words.
"...command to change all that you are."
"Yes?"
"...Even if it be your existence."
Ian turned to Kakantir with surprised eyes. Winchen was delivering an oracle now. Hearing a god's word outside a temple was impossible, but Kakantir nodded as if accustomed.
"Imperials wouldn't understand. You believe you can only grasp the divine will through holy texts."
"True. We think only those who interpret the scriptures can convey the gods' will."
The Papal Court might brand it heresy if they knew. In any case, Ian bowed in thanks for relaying the divine message.
"But the message isn't exactly pleasant."
"How could it not be? It's always meaningful."
Ian denied it outright. Truth doesn't vanish because humans don't know it. Kakantir realized he was growing fond of this blond outsider. Didn't he possess everything as a warrior?
'Bold and courageous, calm like deeply flowing water.'
"I heard the brothers brought you gifts."
"I gratefully accepted them."
"Now we'll adjust the priority negotiation details, but before that, speak if there's anything special you need."
It was a roundabout way of saying they wouldn't yield even the smallest thing once negotiations began. But also a highly favorable offer. Ian pondered briefly before answering.
"Aren't the Cheonryeo a tribe of warriors?"
"Indeed. Rulers of the Great Desert."
"Please teach everything of a warrior to the redhead I brought. He's a guy who wants to be the strongest in the world, but he's still lacking."
"Berik, was it?"
Caring for subordinates is a leader's virtue. Not a difficult request, so Kakantir readily agreed.
"I'll see to it."
"Thank you."
"Bring paper."
Rustle-!
At Kakantir's call, attendants outside brought paper and brushes. Leaving Winchen aside, they began crafting a true contract.
* * *
Thud! Thud thud! Crash!
Sudden noise threw off Derga's pen. Nearly finished, now he'd have to start over.
"Count! Count!"
"What's with the fuss!"
Whoosh!
As the door opened, Derga reflexively hurled the inkwell. It wasn't like the sky had split! He was already racking his brains over tax calculations!
The servant who took the inkwell head-on panicked, wiping his pants.
"S-sorry. But you need to come out right away. People have come from the capital."
The household registry confirmation was due, so wasn't it expected? But the servant's behavior was odd. Derga peeked out the window from behind the curtain.
"......?!"
For mere document delivery, two people would suffice. But carriages filled the path from the main gate to the entrance, and at the lead fluttered a familiar flag.
"Isn't that the Palace Investigation Squad?"
"The butler is receiving the guests for now, but......"
Something felt off. Derga gathered the papers on the desk and shouted.
"You, take these documents to the adjutant's office immediately! Then lock the inner door and wait. There's plenty of ink barrels in the left cabinet. If things seem wrong, pour them all out. Got it?"
"Y-yes? Y-yes, understood."
"Damn it!"
Derga firmly instructed and descended the stairs. Servants gathered at the central entrance, all anxious.
"M-master. What is this......"
"Out of the way!"
He straightened his clothes and stepped forward. The butler retreated with a troubled look, and Derga faced the Palace Investigation Squad leader.
"Are you Count Derga Bratz?"
"Yes, but? I have no idea what's going on."
"I'm Bertie Erika, leader of the Palace Investigation Squad dispatched from the palace. This is a permit stamped directly by His Majesty the Emperor. Dispatched to investigate treason via tax evasion, we swear a thorough and truthful process."
Treason via tax evasion.
Hearing the reason, Derga felt his heart drop. How the hell did these bastards find out? How? But his words were brazen and confident.
"Most displeasing. I'm blocking those savages at the border for Bariel's sake! And what? Treason via tax evasion? Absurd!"
Deny first. Until guilt was confirmed. Derga was still a count, and this his territory. Dozens of carriages came, but in force, they held the advantage.
Erika familiarly drew another document from elsewhere.
"Is this the Bratz seal?"
Bear and laurel pattern. Clearly stamped over someone's scrawled crest.
-We report House Bratz's tax evasion. Your Majesty, please investigate without a shred of doubt.
As Derga reached for the letter, Erika firmly slapped his hand away. An anonymous report with a seal meant they could ransack the estate without rebuttal.
"We'll manage the estate for the time being. All personnel, including you, Count, follow the vice-leader's orders. Infantry will arrive soon, so please clear the garden for them."
Additional forces were incoming; don't try anything rash. At Erika's glance, subordinates drew swords and surged into the estate.
Thud thud! Thud!
"Eek!"
"W-wait a moment!"
"Everyone shut up and follow!"
"M-master! Master!"
"You! The one heading upstairs!"
"Uwaaaah!"
They couldn't bind a noble count yet, so they targeted the hands and feet: the servants first. Erika strode in, trampling the carpet with boots.
"The estate is quite splendid."
"You......"
"Young Master Chel and Lady Mary will return soon as well. No need to worry; just follow orders quietly. Everyone, sweep from the top floor down!"
Derga's head rang at Erika's shout. Didn't these bastards know the office was at the top? That info wasn't in the report. So it wasn't just paper sent.
'Molin!'
That bastard he'd wined and dined! To do this...! Derga's face flushed as if blood surged backward. Erika passed him with a faint smile, and only servants' screams echoed.
"Count!"
The one racing upstairs was the butler, apparently. Dragged down wailing, but Derga remained lost in thought.
'Molin, how did that bastard get the seal? Connected to the adjutant? But he hasn't woken yet. Still under watch......'
Derga burst into incredulous laughter. If naming one close to Molin in Bratz......
"Iaaaaan!"
The guttural roar made soldiers glance, but none intervened. He looked ready to collapse from hypertension any second. If dying anyway, dying early wasn't a bad choice.