Dusk descended, bringing silence with it.

The corpses of those who hadn’t survived lay sprawled everywhere, leaving no space to step, while broken spears, arrows, and swords stood rigidly upright among them.

A flock of crows swooped down over the scene. They circled in the air a few times before slowly descending, sensing the land had completely fallen silent.

The plain before the wall was filled with the stench of blood and the cawing of crows. The once rich soil and fresh grass had been trampled and torn beyond recognition.

A Clifford soldier watching from atop the wall heaved a sigh. Even after the war ended, there remained the problem of what to do with all those corpses. Among them would be foreigners of unknown origins, as well as abhorrent hybrid creatures that defied nature’s laws. One way or another, Clifford’s inner sanctum would be sullied with impure, filthy water.

“Any movement out there?”

“Ah, Prince Noah.”

Prince Noah approached slowly, raising his telescope. Straight ahead lay the Burgos camp, and to the right, Ruswena’s forces.

If it had been winter, they wouldn’t have had to worry about crops, and Clifford’s biting winds would have acted as soldiers, claiming the enemy’s lives. But with summer approaching, the night breeze was beginning to carry humid air.

“Any contact between Burgos and Ruswena?”

“We haven’t confirmed anything from this position, but we continue to send out scouts.”

“The kings will surely meet under cover of darkness. Whatever they discuss will be put into action by morning. Prepare the special forces. The night may make them hunker down, but it presents an opportunity for us.”

Even during a ceasefire, fighting would resume once daylight broke. The tide of battle would depend on who made the first move.

It would be best for Clifford, familiar with the terrain, to prevent contact between the two countries and initiate the second battle. The mages and magic swordsmen who formed the core of their forces would be another matter entirely.

Noah patted the soldier’s shoulder before descending from the wall.

Creak.

As the door opened, the gazes of mages and magic swordsmen fell upon Noah. Yet none ventured a greeting aloud. They lacked both the strength and the mood.

“Where is Lord Ian?”

“He’s still asleep.”

Ian slept in an upright position, his breathing shallow.

Beric remained at his side, lying prostrate, while the mages changed their bandages with heavy sighs.

“Ow, be gentle.”

“Has everyone returned?”

“No. Five haven’t come back. We don’t know if they’re alive or dead. The magic swordsmen rescued everyone they could see, but either they missed them or… they’re among the pile of corpses out there.”

Jeirutt exhaled a thin stream of cigarette smoke.

Five people. To be honest, they thought they had completed their mission. They had safely brought back everyone who had been battered and beaten on the battlefield.

But when they finally counted heads, five were missing—an impossible task in the chaos of keeping track of magic division personnel. Jeirutt crushed out his cigarette and explained:

“There’s faint magical energy detectable outside the wall, so someone is likely still alive out there.”

“It could be from Ruswena’s mages, couldn’t it?”

“We can tell precisely. Just like how we can sense each other’s country of origin when we meet face to face.”

Maxim Tweller appeared behind Jeirutt. He was wiping his face with a wet cloth, though the blood stains embedded in his wrinkles refused to fade easily.

“Bariel’s magic division being incapacitated gives them an opportunity; they’ll make their move with daylight. Lord Ian will find it difficult to issue commands in his exhausted state. That captain… Hale, was it?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Hale, who had been infusing magical energy into Ian, half-raised himself.

“If Lord Ian doesn’t wake before then, you’ll command the magic division in his stead. We need a leader with whom we can discuss our options.”

The key figures from the Imperial Defense Department, Imperial Guard, and Ministry of Magic had all gathered.

Maxim downed a warm drink in one gulp, then looked over the mages with a bitter expression.

“So, how many mages can we field tomorrow?”

“We need more time to give you an accurate count. Those with external injuries were all wounded by Idgal weapons, and their recovery rates vary depending on the severity. Captain Akorella is also preparing new amplification agents, so please wait a little longer.”

“Captain Jeirutt. Can the Imperial Guard provide more support?”

“Impossible. The Guard exists to protect and serve His Majesty the Emperor. We’ve been dispatched by special permission from Crown Prince Jin, but this is already the maximum we can spare. Two of the three captains cannot leave the Imperial Palace.”

As Jeirutt spoke, he glanced at Barsabe. She was sweating profusely while applying pressure to her side to stop the bleeding. When their eyes met, she smiled awkwardly, but pain was clearly visible on her face.

“I see. Then Bariel’s reinforcements arriving would be our best option. It would be good if they came from behind Ruswena. In my opinion, we should worry more about the mages than the synthetic monsters. Cutting off Ruswena first seems like the better approach.”

Hiss.

Maxim muttered as he put a cigarette between his lips.

“Besides, isn’t Ruswena farther from their homeland than Burgos? If supply lines are cut, Ruswena will suffer the most.”

Swish.

At that moment, a Clifford general raised his hand.

“I am Captain Samobov of Clifford. While the minister’s view is valid, I must disagree. The distance for supplies simply means their war effort will take longer—it’s not an immediate threat. Therefore, we should put Ruswena aside for now and deal with Burgos first. Above all, I’m concerned about the influx of synthetic monsters and other creatures.”

“Ah, tell me more about that. I hear there’s a fissure beneath Clifford? Is the palace conducting a separate investigation, Your Highness?”

“They are, but magical traces have long since disappeared. Geology experts are researching at the palace, but there have been no significant findings.”

Maxim closed his eyes briefly, as if deep in thought.

Even the locals weren’t aware of the fissure’s existence, and despite experts beginning investigations, results weren’t immediately forthcoming.

So how did King Damon know about it? Given that he started a war, he must have been certain—but what gave him such confidence?

“King Damon’s actions are suspicious.”

“He’s clearly not in his right mind.”

“The fact that he didn’t retreat even with Bariel’s involvement suggests he has his own calculations for victory. Strange. Something’s definitely off.”

In half a lifetime of traversing battlefields, the most dangerous moments were exactly like this—enemies approaching like crocodiles in a swamp, showing only part of themselves.

Not knowing what lay beneath, experience taught him that significant casualties were difficult to avoid in such situations.

“Captain Jeirutt. A moment.”

Barsabe gestured to the captain, requesting a private conversation. The mages glanced at them briefly before returning their focus to their treatments, while Maxim continued to chain-smoke.

“You’re not well. What is it?”

“I have something to report.”

“I’m listening.”

Barsabe had accompanied them to both guard the mages and keep an eye on Ian.

She clutched her throbbing side and looked around. There were only tired guards passing by, no one unusual.

“Lord Ian’s words and actions have been somewhat puzzling.”

“In what way?”

Jeirutt’s eyes instantly sharpened. Thanks to Jin, he knew about the Emperor’s suspension and the Crown Prince’s intentions, but regardless, the Ministry of Magic was always a subject of caution.

Barsabe shook her head, signaling him to relax his vigilance.

“No, not that kind of puzzling. I didn’t hear clearly, but I caught him acting as if he wanted to leave the Imperial Palace several times.”

“Leave the Imperial Palace?”

“Yes. I don’t know the details, but he occasionally made statements implying this to Hale and Akorella. Whether intentional or not, I’m unsure. But he definitely conveyed something to them. I don’t know their responses either.”

“Anything else?”

“No. Lord Ian took the lead in establishing the alliance between Clifford and Bariel, then continued to provide full support. Anyone would agree he acted appropriately as Bariel’s representative.”

Jeirutt stroked his beard and sighed. Given that Barsabe was reporting this, it wasn’t likely to be unfounded.

Ian wants to leave the Imperial Palace? Why?

Was it the burden of exhausting work? The image of the boy working day and night briefly came to mind, but Jeirutt shook his head.

Ian had fulfilled his role perfectly from the beginning, as if he had always belonged. He blended into the Imperial Palace in such a short time, as if the palace was his home and he was part of it—so why would he leave?

Could it be for Crown Prince Jin?

Just as Jeirutt was fumbling for a cigarette in his pocket, a small commotion arose from inside.

“Lord Ian, are you conscious?”

Creak.

Ian had opened his eyes.

The doctor, flustered, performed a quick examination. Given the dosage of sleeping medicine administered, Ian should have woken late the next day, not after just a few hours.

The doctor snapped his fingers to check Ian’s mental state.

Snap.

“Can you hear me? Lord Ian. Please say something. If speaking is difficult, a nod will suffice.”

Ian nodded vaguely. He looked dazed and weak, as if just awakened from sleep.

“How are you feeling?”

“……”

“I hear the magic you used was mental in nature, causing side effects in that area. If you’re uncomfortable, it would be best to sleep more for stability. Can you hear me?”

The doctor continued writing his examination notes while repeatedly glancing at Ian. Though alive, he didn’t seem like it. The doctor bit his lower lip slightly as he recorded the symptoms.

I gave him that much sleeping medicine, yet he’s awake now… Even if I administer more, it’s unlikely to be effective. Medically speaking, excluding magic, this means he’s under too much stress to fall asleep easily.

“Iaaaaan!”

Beric pushed aside the doctor who was busily writing and thrust his face forward. Finally awake! His eyes were sparkling, smiling as if encouraging Ian to say something.

The other mages were the same. They all smiled awkwardly, waiting for Ian to speak.

Let’s pretend we didn’t see him cry, let’s erase from memory how much he suffered—they had all silently agreed. But face-to-face with Ian, they could only manage strange, uncomfortable smiles.

“Lord Ian?”

Swish.

Ian slowly sat up and looked around.

Minister Maxim Tweller watched Ian with interest, cigarette in mouth. The boy’s head was moving ever so slightly. He was surely counting.

“…Five are missing.”

“Ah, about that…”

“Selena, Yen, Kanchi, Tommy, Jang.”

He identified them accurately. Ian immediately recognized the mages who hadn’t returned and sighed.

“Lord Ian. When dawn breaks, we’ll search the area in front of the wall with the magic swordsmen. We can still sense traces of magical energy, so they might be prisoners of the enemy. They’re not dead. We can tell, can’t we?”

One mage added hastily, rambling. It wasn’t clear if he was trying to soothe or comfort Ian.

But Ian just sat slumped at the edge of the bed, continuing to stare into empty space. He wasn’t crying anymore. It was as if he had already shed all his tears, his eyes now completely dry.

Frankly, this wasn’t much better for his comrades to see. Ian’s eyes had always been clear and sparkling, like jewels.

“Ian. Let’s rest a bit more and go out again when the sun rises. They might contact us first. That’s why we’re waiting, see? When we fight again, I’ll really do well. I’ll really cut all those bastards’ throats. Okay?”

Beric fidgeted anxiously, clutching Ian’s clothes, but Ian continued to stare blankly ahead. After a long while lost in thought, he turned his gaze toward the door and ordered:

“…Call Prince Noah. We’re changing the strategy.”

Changing the strategy?

Maxim Tweller raised an eyebrow with interest, while Jeirutt, who had been monitoring the situation from the window, frowned with concern. This wasn’t the Ian he knew