Chapter 12
Chapter 12
While Chel was away in the dressing room, only Ian and Molrin were left in the reception room.
When you cross the border
The reception room was quiet. The sound of the clashing cutlery echoed nicely. At Molrins flat statement, Ian too raised his head.
You will surely miss this place a lot.
One can never leave ones hometown, even in death.
Was that response too mature for a child? Ian pondered for a moment, but Molrin didnt seem particularly bothered.
You seem to have a lot of interest in the capital.
Indeed. As a citizen of Bariel, who wouldnt want to set foot on the capitals soil at least once?
The meanings offered by the royal palace and the papal residence were markedly different. They were the starting points of patriotism and pilgrimage.
Even without these grand reasons, the capital held a myriad of small festivals and events every month. To a child, especially to a poor child, it must have been a place of dreams.
Its unfortunate. If you cross the border in a couple of months, you wont have a chance. So, has master Chel been to the capital?
Ian grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Probably not, right? This place was the furthest province from the capital.
The social debut of the Bariel aristocrats was under the emperors jurisdiction. Each year, a grand party was held for the young nobles on a certain autumn day when the rice is at its most beautiful, just before their coming-of-age ceremony.
Well, I think it will take some more time.
In a year or two, Chel and Ian would be old enough to make their debut in high society. However, they couldnt count on the next year when they didnt know what would happen the next day.
If you have time, you should ask the count to arrange a trip to the capital. Master Chel will have many opportunities, but its not the same for you, master Ian.
The nuance of the statement oddly emphasized Chel. As if comparing the two of them, it seemed to provoke him.
However, Ian deflected it calmly. He wanted to skip the small talk and get straight to the point, but everything has its order.
I still have a lot to learn, I cant even dare to think about it.
But Molrin was skeptical. It didnt seem like the intelligent Ian would be struggling to decipher a single character.
Ian smiled slightly and asked, Can I tour the royal palace if I go to the capital?
Of course. I will personally request His Highness Gale to issue an invitation for the young lords of the Count Derghas family. You seemed curious about the magicians the last time, didnt you?
Molrins eyes sparkled, assessing whether Ians golden eyes were real or just a facade. However, Ian was too busy digesting the name Gale to notice.
I feel like Ive heard that name before.
There are many great mana users under His Highness Gale. It will surely be a great meeting.
Ah.
Ian covered his mouth with a napkin and laughed incredulously. The correlation between Gale and mana user brought back a name buried beneath faded memories.
Thats great. It will indeed be a good meeting.
As an emperor, there were only two kinds of people he needed to keep track of; those who have contributed greatly, or those who were involved in a rebellion.
Especially the latter required follow-up action. Even after a century had passed, they would periodically check to ensure that the bloodline was completely severed.
The second prince, Gale. A rebel. And a failed one at that.
There was a reason the name sounded so familiar. And if Gale was indeed that person
Why are you like that?
No, its nothing.
Ian narrowed his eyes and looked at Molrin. Could it be that he had noticed traces of magic in the reception room that day?
One of the main pillars of Gales rebellion was the magic department.
The impact of that had been significant on Ian.
The purging of the already scarce magicians had burdened Ian immensely. From about five hundred magicians at that time, only around one hundred were left in Ians era.
Right. Thats why I once tore up a report. I was angry asking why the magicians were involved and caused such a fuss.
It became clearer now.
The reason why Molrin approached Ian.
It seemed certain that he noticed something during their reception room meeting. Recruiting a mana user, a promising candidate before becoming a magician, in advance.
You seem uncomfortable.
No, its just
Ian glanced at Morlins reaction. Whether Morlin was sure of his magic or not, it wasnt a bad thing in Ians current situation. Rather, if he used it well, it could even be a favorable event.
Ian slowly fiddled with the brooch on his chest, as if to show it off.
My eyes are a bit sore.
And soon, he covered his mouth with his fingers. To indicate that their conversation was being recorded by the brooch. They needed to communicate their intentions silently.
Is that so? Wait a moment.
Morlin seemed startled for a moment, then got up and walked over to the desk. He showed him a small notepad and pen.
Do you want to try writing it down?
Eye drops, indeed. Thank you.
He carefully handed him the notepad and sat down next to Ian. The sensation of sharpening the pen was refreshing.
-Is it a magic stone?
*Nod.*
Ian affirmed with his head. Morlin touched his temple briefly, then frowned. The magic stone was a valuable item even in the capital; so he wondered how a count in the borderlands had acquired it.
*Swish*
However, his hand moved without hesitation as he jotted down the thoughts that had been repeating in his head.
-Do you want to cross the border?
Hardly likely. Ian shook his head sideways. The sound of scraping the soup bowl echoed alongside.
-Its irrational. You have master Chel as an heir, dont you? And you dont even have a birth mother, do you? If you leave Bariel, the Viscountess wont leave it be.
It matched the preamble he had expected.
He had touched a nerve by mentioning his birth mother, his only weak point. They wanted Ian, not Chel, to stay here.
If theyve seen me using magic, they are probably trying to pull me towards Gales side to strengthen their power, otherwise.
They are rebels, after all, theres only one answer.
They planned to make Ian a puppet to seize control of the Bratz familys territory. Although the administration was in shambles, they had several times more soldiers than other places because of it.
More importantly, the key to a successful rebellion was a swift victory. If they made this place their base before other nobles from the borderlands could send reinforcements, they could effectively block them.
But I wonder, what about Dergha?
One way or another, it was faster and more certain to get the cooperation of the count.
The current situation favors the 1st Prince, so theres a standoff with Dergha. The approach of the 2nd Princes forces wouldnt have been bad, would it? They wouldnt have immediately talked about rebellion and would have just subtly tried to form a power base. But judging by them trying to entice Ian, its natural to assume that it didnt go well.
Even though it was a short time, Ian knew about Dergha.
How could such a greedy and sensitive man reject the 2nd Princes approach? It would be more convincing if the old man was keeping his options open But judging by Morlins attitude, it seemed the count had outright rejected it.
Ian looked at Morlin with a calm gaze.
-Youre saying youll help me?
-If you wish.
Why?
Why is Dergha not interested in the power struggle at the center?
For a moment, Ian remembered the documents he had seen in the office. The military ratio was so high it was hard to predict how it would roll out. The taxation was at an astronomical level, but he doubted it would be enough. It even made him wonder if there were any special resources in the territory.
Could this guy possibly
Is he embezzling the taxes paid to the royal palace?
If so, everything made sense. His attitude of trying not to get entangled with the central powers as much as possible, the abnormal economic structure, even the busy work of the accountant.
*Tap tap.*
Morlin lightly tapped Ians arm, bringing his attention back. He wanted him to answer his last written question. Ian began to write his response with his small hand.
-What do you want from me?
Thats straightforward. Morlin openly mentioned the golden eyes he had that day.
-By any chance, master Ian. Are you a magic user?
-Im not sure what you mean.
Ian was certain. Revealing himself as a magic practitioner would have more cons than pros. Besides, his opponent intended to rebel, backed by the Ministry of Magic. It was wise to stay hidden until he could protect himself.
Molrin tapped the memo pad silently. The old mans eyes were sharp, trying to catch any falsehoods.
-Thats a pity.
-Are you going to hold back because of it?
-Not at all. We need you, master Ian. If you help us, well climb to the capital and oppose your exile. Then, there would be no reason for you to cross the border.
Are the clothes comfortable?
At that moment, DGors voice was heard from outside. It was a clear signal to wrap up the conversation since he was sure to enter soon.
Without showing any signs of fluster, Molrin crumpled up the memo pad into the ashtray. He put a small flame to it, then closed the lid.
*Squeak.*
Huh?
Chel, who was wearing newly tailored clothes, halted as he opened the door. The atmosphere was strangely tense. Molrin greeted Chel with a friendly smile.
Oh my, the madam from the boutique sure did a good job.
Dgor kindly gave them as a gift. Uh, thank you.
It was my fault for spilling the water. Please, finish your meal. By the way, I wonder why Mack is taking so long.
No sooner had he finished speaking, the door opened again. The guards were gone, and Mack was alone.
When you fall into a barrel of liquor, you die from alcohol poisoning, not drowning. I tried a sip, and lost the taste.
Macks jolly words instantly brought the dinner atmosphere back to life. Ian responded with a smile and sliced some remaining meat, while Molrin signaled his subordinates with his eyes.
How is it?
As expected, hes sharp.
Molrin conveyed Gales intentions to the count during their first dinner, but Derghas response was not exactly pleasing.
Just when he was perplexed and about to open the door, he met Ians golden eyes. If done well, its worth it. Especially if youre a magic practitioner, its a god-given opportunity.
But when he denied being a child
Keep an eye on him.
Molrin instructed Mack and Dgor with a flick of his left eyebrow.
Meanwhile, Ian looked down at the fork in his left hand and the knife in his right, feeling as if both the royal court and the Heavenly tribe were in his grasp.
*Swoosh.*
Then the steak in the middle must be Bratz. If he used both at the same time, he could cut and eat it cleanly.
The taste of the meat is, as expected, excellent, Ian added a comment with a satisfied smile. Then, he naturally continued, Since the guards have scattered, we probably cant go far today. How about a walk in the park after the meal, for digestion? I would like to see the lake that Sir Molrin mentioned earlier.
Ngl, the layered conversations in this chapter is giving me a headache.
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