“By the way… what kind of country is Toolun, really?”

A mage asked the question as they sat in a circle, tearing into roasted meat. Everyone blinked, cheeks bulging with food, unable to offer a clear answer.

After a brief silence, Akorella was the first to speak.

“Toolun? It’s a place rich in Macnotipia and Kellen deposits. Strangely enough, you can barely find those two anywhere else. It’s a good thing their reserves are abundant; otherwise, they would have been classified as rare minerals instantly. For the record, I don’t care for either. Macnotipia’s cohesion is just terrible—”

“True. I’ve heard the names plenty of times, but I actually know nothing about the place. Honestly, until recently, I didn’t even know where it was stuck on the map. Do they even have mages there?”

“Hey, punk. Did you just cut me off?”

“No. I cut the meat.”

“Mages? Wouldn’t they? Mages aren’t born in just one specific region, after all.”

“Still, since they’re close to the Northern Region, the influence of shamans must be strong. I bet if we asked the Astana side, they’d know more details.”

“Astana says they don’t know much either. Apparently, interaction with Toolun hasn’t been that active. And right now, that place is basically a funeral home, so we can’t exactly strike up a chat.”

“Right. The damage was severe because of those mysterious long-range attacks, wasn’t it? Is it connected to that puppeteer Beric caught?”

“Who knows. The dead tell no tales.”

“I have been there once.”

At one mage’s comment, everyone’s eyes went round. Wasn’t Toolun a region with almost zero exchange with Bariel? It was a distant country, and the religious differences were distinct.

Though a new religion worshipping the Underground God was currently sweeping the nation, to the people of Bariel, both the Underground God and the gods before it were unfamiliar concepts.

“When? How?”

“Yeah, that’s fascinating. Even at His Majesty’s coronation, not a single envoy came from Toolun. How did you end up there?”

“It was a long time ago. I went with my father when I was very young. Though we only stayed for about two months.”

“Ah, right. You said your father was a peddler?”

“Not a peddler, he did odd jobs under one.”

“Anyway, how was it? I heard people climb onto their roofs and prostrate themselves to pray. Is that true?”

The mages pushed their meat aside, eyes shining with curiosity.

The mage, suddenly the center of attention, looked a bit sheepish before muttering as old memories surfaced one by one.

“When the time comes, a bell rings from somewhere. Then people stop whatever they are doing and offer prayers to the sky. Since it’s something you must do even if you’re on a roof, maybe that’s where the saying came from?”

“Hmm. Is that so?”

“And from what I remember, the atmosphere was quite open. How should I put it… freedom within strict discipline? No, maybe ‘order within chaos’ fits better? And there were so many people. I was riding a donkey, but my shoulders kept bumping against the person next to me, to the point where I wondered if I was the one walking.”

“The land is pretty big there too, right? I heard it’s about two or three times the size of Bariel.”

“Yes, that’s probably correct. Most of it was farmland. Though, because the climate is a bit dry, the agricultural efficiency wasn’t great.”

“Right, exactly. The country itself tends to be closed off. Since they can be self-sufficient anyway, they don’t feel the need to interact with the outside world.”

“That’s part of it, but maybe they feared religious change? In Gaia, Toolun is the only outlier, after all.”

“Could be. They have a king there too, right?”

“Ah, yes. They do, but…”

“But what?”

The mage shrugged and smiled, as if he didn’t know the details perfectly.

“I heard this when I was very young, so I don’t know if it’s correct.”

“Spit it out, man. Either there’s a king or there isn’t.”

“They say they ‘elect’ their king.”

“Huh?”

What kind of nonsense was that? Not direct hereditary succession, but an election? Could the concept of electing a king even exist? It wasn’t as if a rebellion happened every generation.

“How do they elect a king?”

“They believe there is a god hiding among the royal family. There are several criteria to find it, and the child who meets them ascends to the throne. Whether it’s just symbolic or real, I don’t know. It was such a long time ago.”

“How old are you again?”

“I am forty-five. Captain Akorella.”

“Ah, right. Sorry.”

Akorella scratched the tip of her nose awkwardly, and everyone coughed dryly. It was a mystery why the Ministry of Magic seemed to put younger people in key positions. Well, considering Ian, the youngest of them all, was the Minister, that said everything.

“Anyway, it’s a fascinating country.”

“Yes, it’s worth visiting at least once. The whole world there is a yellowish earthen color, but the unique red and yellow hues are impressive. It feels completely different from Hawan. If Hawan is an intense red based on white, Toolun is like a bonfire built upon the soil.”

“Mmhmm. Well, we’ll probably end up going soon anyway. Once we march to southern Burgos and clean everything up, we’re crossing straight into Toolun.”

“What?!”

Why are you telling us this now? As the shocked mages froze, Akorella casually bit off a huge chunk of meat and grinned.

“Why are you so surprised? You knew we were going to Toolun. It was discussed right from the departure ceremony, come on.”

“No, it was under discussion back then! This means it’s confirmed?”

“Yep. I just heard it now, too. Good?”

“…In that case, we need to send a carrier pigeon to the Imperial Palace Ministry of Magic. Ask them to send over any data related to Toolun. And to pass our regards to Lord Romandro as well.”

“Ah, forget it. Already sent it.”

Akorella waved her hand dismissively and tugged at her subordinates’ collars. Stop doing useless things and just keep eating.

“Really? Then, by chance, did you include Lord Ian’s story…?”

“Yep.”

“Everything?”

“Yep. Everything. Lord Romandro needs to know too.”

“…He’ll be shocked, won’t he?”

“If shock is all he feels, he’ll be lucky.”

Glug! Akorella downed her wine and let out a bitter groan. Who didn’t have a story in life? But the life of Ian she had heard about from the inner circle was perfectly wretched. It was as if God had painstakingly crafted every detail to lead him to ruin.

Just then, she saw Hale passing by.

“Oi, Captain Hale. Where are you going without eating?”

“Just a quick reconnaissance with the Royal Guard.”

Hale gestured toward the Imperial Guard’s tent with a nod. Since the magic swordsmen couldn’t fly, it seemed they had asked Hale and his subordinates for assistance.

Honestly, people who didn’t know how to rest even when told to. Akorella pouted and asked:

“What about Lord Ian? haven’t seen him for a while.”

“He’s negotiating with the representative of the Aguiar residents. Seeing how slow the progress is, there must be some issues.”

“Hmm? Why? Aguiar is already finished.”

“Before being Aguiar residents, they are citizens of Burgos.”

Even among the civilians, opinions were starkly divided. The view that they would rather be prisoners of war than cooperate with Bariel, versus the view that they should preserve their lives and open a new era.

Ian was reportedly sitting quietly, watching them clash. Whatever the outcome, it would proceed in the direction Bariel wanted, but he had judged it more beneficial to let the opposing opinions burn themselves out through fierce collision rather than suppression. The night given to them was long, after all.

“Keep eating and resting, you lot. I’m going out with Nakina for a bit.”

“Sure. If you come late, there won’t be anything left.”

“Eat your fill.”

Saying so, Hale lifted the flap of the Imperial Guard’s tent.

Unlike the outside, which was drunk on the victory of battle, the atmosphere inside the tent was heavy and sunken. It was only natural; the price paid for victory had been significant.

Guardsmen wrapping bandages around their injuries stood to welcome Hale.

“You’ve come.”

“Yes, you asked for support.”

“Commander Jeirutt.”

Commander Jeirutt was already fully dressed in his uniform. The injury he sustained in the Northern Region had been deep, keeping him behind the front lines, but that could no longer be the case. Now that Bonita was dead, Jeirutt had to fulfill the duties of the Commander.

“I would like to search the area below the cliff once more. It is too narrow for a dragon to enter, so I was hoping the mages could assist with flight. I have already mentioned it to Minister Ian.”

“Yes, we understand the heavy heart of the Commander. However, the darkness is too thick tonight, so we won’t go far.”

“Thank you. Beric.”

“Yeah. Got it, got it.”

Rip, Beric tore a bandage roughly, tied it, and threw on his outer coat. His wounds were deep, but his mobility was still better than the other members. Beric tied his hair back loosely and peered at the map.

“We just need to check around the places we looked at this afternoon, right?”

“Beric, aren’t you drunk?”

“Is wine alcohol? It’s juice. Everyone just stretch your legs and rest. The perfectly fine Beric will go and come back.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you for your trouble.”

“Commander Jeirutt. Please return safely.”

They waved a rough goodbye and soon soared into the air with the help of Hale and Nakina.

Whoosh—

The wind was fierce in the deep night sky. Though they had risen high, the only thing visible was the lights of Aguiar. Everything beyond was pitch darkness.

Jeirutt strained every nerve hoping to sense Barsabe’s energy, while Beric let out a huge yawn and sniffed the air.

Swoosh!

“We’re going down below the cliff.”

Upon reaching the entrance of the sheer cliff outside the wall, Hale spoke and lowered their altitude. Relying on faint magical light, the four entered the space between the rocks.

No human presence could be felt. Yet.

***

Barsabe finally understood what it felt like for blood to freeze solid in one’s veins.

Rutherford’s eyes, looking down from above, flashed cold like a grim reaper’s. And that long hair? She forgot to breathe, hiding her presence as best she could.

“Lord Rutherford, what is it?”

“Bring a torch.”

It wasn’t simple suspicion. He had definitely sensed something. Barsabe bit her lower lip hard, terrified the thumping of her heart would leak out.

“There might be pursuers nearby. Lighting a fire now is dangerous, Lord Rutherford.”

“Then you. You go down there.”

“Pardon?”

“I think there’s something down there. As you said, it could be a pursuer, so go down and check if there are any blind ears listening. That is what I’m saying.”

At Rutherford’s words, the surroundings fell silent again.

Barsabe was truly in a bind. The others seemed to have noticed nothing, so why was Rutherford alone acting like this?

However, the silver lining was that no one wanted to step forward rashly. The Ruswena mages were reinforcements here to support Rutherford, not servants to obey him, and the magic swordsmen lacked flight abilities, making a descent down a dark cliff unappealing.

“Then I shall take a look.”

The voice that cut in then was that piercingly unpleasant one.

“With just a plank and a doll, I can confirm if anyone other than us is here. I can pierce their heart at once, so there is no problem.”

“And take how many years to do it?”

Rutherford clicked his tongue. The puppeteers of Toolun possessed formidable abilities, but they required too much preparation. The target’s precise location, a doll suitable for the hex…

The higher-ranked the puppeteer, the more effort they put into their materials to ensure the hex took hold. He knew that even the skilled Bagban had taken months just to replicate the Aguiar wall.

“Light the torch.”

At the repeated command, the subordinates reluctantly lit a torch and thrust their heads over the cliff edge. The darkness thinned, and vision brightened.

Watching the light drawing closer, Barsabe muttered inwardly.

Hah, fuck. Persistent bastard.

But there was no other way. If there was no road back, the only option was to charge forward.

The moment the light illuminated her, Barsabe grabbed the magic swordsman’s arm with lightning speed and yanked him off the cliff.

“Aaaagh!”

Screaming, the magic swordsman vanished into the darkness below.

Barsabe used the counter-force to vault herself upward. Simultaneously, she clamped her empty molars tight, exploded her mana, and lunged straight at Rutherford.

Whoosh!

Now that she was up, she saw six magic swordsmen and five mages. Besides them, there were over a dozen puppeteers and regular soldiers gathered.

Barsabe crouched low and glanced behind her. Nothing but empty air. In short…

…I’m fucked.

And so it was.