Chapter 72
Chapter 72
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: Gail Takes Action
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Meanwhile, the moment Chielonia returned after completing her mission to deliver the imperial decree, the first place she headed was Second Prince Gail's office. Sunlight poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, yet his office strangely always felt chilled.
"They've only locked Molin and his group in the underground prison?"
"Yes. No torture or anything—just confirmed they're detained and left alone without any special treatment."
Gail crossed his arms, tapping and twitching his fingertips. It was a habit that emerged only when he was deep in thought. His sharp eyes, which had pierced even his mother, turned toward Wesley behind Chielonia. They were directed at Wesley, who was reading the report.
"He seemed well-versed in palace etiquette too?"
"Yes. His expression changed the instant Your Highness was mentioned. Even Romandro, his advisor, seemed clueless."
At that moment, Wesley, who had been pacing while reading the documents, whipped her head around. Her beautiful black hair and red lips were, as always, perfect.
"It's certain. He has ties to Marib."
"Don't jump to conclusions, Wesley."
"Nothing else makes sense. A kid who lived in a brothel out of poverty gets a short education, crosses the desert, and now knows palace etiquette? He could barely have learned the basics."
Wesley's words rang true from start to finish.
"Marib recommending Ian for lordship in the first place was no accident. How many people offer money to Marib just to win his favor? And yet this Ian was chosen over them."
"Isn't he supposed to be a mana user?"
"Even so, it's too much."
Marib was the empire's acknowledged heir to the throne. Those fawning over him to catch his eye lined up enough to circle the entire Bariel Empire.
Especially lordship appointments, which offered a chance at reversing one's status—Marib could have easily given it to someone far more influential if he'd wanted.
"The territory being on the border is a big factor too. It's so unique that there are many restrictions."
Wesley tossed the report in front of Chielonia, who was carefully chiming in. Despite the age gap, Wesley was the Magic Department Minister, while Chielonia was just one of many administrative officers. The status difference was clear.
"Anyway, good work. You may go."
"…I'll take my leave."
Chielonia bowed politely and exited Gail's chambers. Wesley muttered around her pipe,
"Ian—should we kill him?"
Gail leaned his chin on his hand, chuckling at her words. It was funnier because she wasn't joking.
"How?"
"He'll come up for the New Year's lordship ceremony and join the Magic Department. Plenty of opportunities, plenty of ways."
The smoke she exhaled filled the room. Gail took the pipe from her mouth. Wesley continued in a slightly irritated tone.
"I don't like how he's suddenly popping up and getting in our way. He'll become a Magic Department slave if he can't pay back that 10,000 nicks in tribute anyway—better to cut him down before then."
Wesley wrapped her arms around Gail's neck and whispered. Her dangerously seductive smile lingered, but Gail turned his head away without budging.
"No matter how I think about it, you don't suit being Magic Department Minister."
"Me?"
Gail meant it literally, but Wesley seemed to misunderstand—as if he meant she suited the position of Empress beside Emperor Gail better.
"If Your Highness says so, then it must be."
Gail stared out the window with a wry smile. Wesley was perfect as a woman, but as a political ally, not so much. How could a Magic Department Minister so casually suggest killing Ian?
Especially in these times when the number of mages was dwindling.
If she truly cared about magic's revival and progress, even if Gail suggested killing him, she should persuade and seek alternatives—that was the demeanor of a Magic Department Minister.
"Gail. Look at me."
Did this beautiful woman not know the Empress must also be the Emperor's political partner? Even if Gail pushed Marib aside and ascended the throne, Wesley's place beside him wasn't guaranteed.
Gail brushed off her tempting touch and stood.
"Where are you going?"
"To see my brother."
"You mean Prince Marib?"
Gail fastened his cuffs and stared piercingly at Wesley.
Again. That gaze, as if testing me sometimes. Wesley kept her smile steady.
"Why did Ian spare Molin instead of killing him?"
"…Because he's an imperial administrative officer. If things went wrong, they'd send another investigative team our way. It's only been how long since Erika's squad and that mess?"
"Hmm. Right. I see."
Gail asked no more. He judged that Wesley's grasp of the situation only went that far. No room for a second chance, no shared insights.
Wesley followed behind Gail.
"Or what?"
"What do you mean 'or what'? That's why I asked—I don't know either."
Smack.
Gail gave Wesley a brief farewell kiss and turned away without lingering. His subordinates shadowed him like ghosts, leaving the woman standing there in dismay.
Outwardly, she was the acclaimed head of the Magic Department. Born a commoner, she'd seized wealth and power, etching her name into history. Yet before Gail, she always felt endlessly small.
"Fuck…"
Her quiet curse didn't even reach Gail's heels, scattering unheard before even his following attendant. An invisible aura churned chaotically around her.
Clop clop!
"Your Highness, where to?"
"To Marib's palace."
"Understood."
Gail replied curtly, and his men ran ahead, clearing the path so his steps never faltered.
'Ian spared Molin because of Marib.'
Wesley's words were half right, of course.
With the Cheonryeo Tribe involved, killing Molin would elevate the issue's severity in the capital's eyes. They might dispatch regular troops instead of an investigative team.
That's why he'd handed the decision to Marib. A choice showing he fully understood the power dynamics between Marib and Gail, and had chosen his path.
In any case, Molin's life hung by Marib's fingertips, and to Gail, it was quite precious. There were few poached from the executive branch, and seasoned veterans like Molin were rare.
Neigh!
The horses whinnied fiercely as the carriage moved. Gail, gazing at the sky in thought, opened the window and commanded.
"…Hold. Change course."
"Yes?"
"Not to Marib—to Father."
"You mean His Imperial Majesty's palace?"
"Yes. Hurry."
At their master's order, the horses slowly turned the corner, heading back the way they'd come. Their direction fixed not toward north to Marib's palace, but east to the Emperor's residence.
* * *
The mansion bustled from dawn.
It was the day Kakantir and sixty-five warriors returned to the Great Desert. Though they lived nearby and could meet anytime, parting wasn't easy, so no one hid their reluctance.
"When will we see you again?"
"Thanks for everything."
"Here, take this…"
"We packed dried meat and water. Safe travels."
"Kakan! How many kusille stamps?"
The mansion's main gate was as chaotic as a marketplace. Ian hurried preparations to see them to the border. Checking gifts, gratuities, food one last time, he spotted Halna in the corner, eyes unusually red-rimmed.
"…Farewell."
"I'll come back."
Their lightly clasped hands dripped with affection, the emotion plain to see. Ian unwittingly turned away, rolling his eyes as if he hadn't noticed.
Berik, seeing it, picked at his ear.
"What'd you see to make you do that?"
"Berik. Over here."
"Oh ho, look at that? Ha—!"
"Berik! Shut it, you clueless idiot!"
Thwack!
Romandro smacked Berik's head. Ian glared warningly too. Berik rubbed his nape, grumbling unjustly.
"My head's the neighborhood punching bag, damn it."
"More people grew attached than expected."
"Even fleeting encounters forge bonds, and Cheonryeo folk don't just pass through seasons."
An affinity arriving in scorching summer, departing in fall.
Ian nodded thoughtfully. It wasn't bad. To solidify the Cheonryeo alliance or foster cultural fusion, marriage was best.
'…Too political a judgment?'
Ian reined himself in, watching Halna sniffle.
'Ian. Your choices change lives, so listen to the voices beneath the letters. Don't just check rising agendas—feel them with your heart.'
Suddenly, pre-regression Naum's advice resurfaced. The sole friend and mage mentor who'd stayed by the dying Emperor's side. Ian clenched his teeth and turned away.
"Ian. Preparations complete."
"Good. Let's go."
"Open the gates!"
"Back to our Great Desert!"
"Woooo!"
"Take care!"
"Hey, meet in Cheonryeo!"
The remaining Cheonryeo laughed heartily, waving. Nersarn was among them. Kakan exited with dignified poise. Territory folk, hearing the news, came to see them off.
"Thanks! Safe trip!"
"Truly grateful!"
"We'd have been lost without you!"
Whoosh!
Petals and fallen leaves swirled everywhere. Even the gula swaying in a line with the wind made a splendid sight.
Kakantir, leading at the front, gazed down at a child offering a bouquet. The same kid who'd tripped and cried at his feet upon first entering Bratz. The child remembered that brief brush.
"Th-thank you."
The child's hand trembled. Kakan took the bouquet, paused as if to leave, then turned back.
"Demosha."
He didn't check the child's face. The kusille moved again. To the border—quickly.
And soon, true farewell came.
"Here. Lord Ian."
"Kakan. You worked hard."
The place where Ian had been sold as a peace offering. Two massive boulders marking the border. An abandoned small temple.
"We'll handle Merelrof the moment we return to Cheonryeo."
"I'd be grateful."
"Do well in the capital. Or this day becomes our last."
"I'll do my utmost. Gula and gratuity."
Kakantir eyed Ian, taking only gula seeds. His right hand boldly held the swaying bouquet.
"No room. Pass on the rest."
"Ah."
"To Cheonryeo!"
"Demosha!"
"Demosha! Safe travels!"
Berik bellowed with the warriors' chant. They dashed into the desert and vanished. Movements swifter than wind, lighter than sand. Ian and Berik watched their backs long after.
"…Let's head back."
"Sure. What next?"
"What else?"
Berik grinned at Ian's smile, grabbing the reins.
Nothing set in stone. Gula cultivation and…
'Merelrof investigation.'