A carriage ascending the slope.
Rutherford was looking out the window while reclining diagonally on soft bear fur, as if pleased with the very slow movement of the carriage.
But at that moment, a small ripple occurred along with a chilly sensation in one side of his chest. His gaze, which had been fixed straight on the sky, also wavered.
“Ah.”
“What’s wrong?”
Without answering his subordinate’s question, Rutherford picked up a cigarette. In the deeply inhaled smoke, Rutherford’s brow furrowed.
The magic he had placed on Damon had been triggered. It felt like the thread connected through his sixth sense had been severed. It was clear why he had triggered the magic, but he couldn’t tell if he was dead or alive. If his head had blown off, that would be the end, but somehow the feeling was strange.
Rutherford tapped cigarette ash out the slightly open carriage window and said.
“We should hurry a bit. King Damon might be dead.”
“Has the spell been activated?”
“Yes, it has. But it doesn’t feel quite right.”
“I’ll urge the coachman.”
Tap tap. The subordinate knocked on the coachman’s window and gave hand signals. The tense coachman gripped the reins tightly, and the carriage that had been moving regularly began to sway greatly.
Rutherford didn’t like this. It made him feel like a worm crawling on the earth, just like how lowly humans walk and run on two legs.
The subordinate who noticed Rutherford’s mood change carefully spoke up.
“How about sending just Lord Rutherford and part of the carriage near Bariel?”
“That’s enough. What would I do by going first? How is that different from charging into enemy lines without weapons? Whether Damon is dead or alive, things will flow accordingly. And most importantly, we need to conserve our children’s strength, don’t we?”
When Rutherford smiled and chided him, the subordinate bowed his head.
His return to Bariel carried considerable meaning. It didn’t simply mean stepping on the earth, taking in the empire’s citizens with his eyes, and looking around.
He would enter the imperial palace, have the royal bloodline see him, and furthermore, his name would be carved into history books once again. Rutherford exhaled a sigh mixed with excitement and tension along with the cigarette smoke.
“It took too long.”
He couldn’t measure the years. The very beginning, the start of memory. From the name Vandor, he had lived eons between countless deaths and lives. The subordinate carefully added words of comfort.
“Since it took so long, everything will be accomplished according to Lord Rutherford’s will.”
Rutherford smiled palely and grabbed his subordinate’s chin, opening it slightly. A black pattern slightly visible beside the tongue. The same as Damon’s. Rutherford lightly patted his chin and asked.
“Do you think so?”
“Of course. Lord Rutherford is someone close to gods by mere existence.”
“…How could that be my will?”
Vandor. Rutherford recalled his first body that had already faded into the distant past. He had thrown himself into the rift bearing everything for Bariel, for a mage’s convictions, but what remained for him was cursed immortality.
“I’m sick of it.”
It was continuous death.
Sometimes a nomad at the edge of Gaia, sometimes a wandering fisherman on the vast Blaster Sea. And at other times a criminal waiting for death with severed limbs, sometimes a noble son imprisoned and slowly dying in fraternal power struggles…
All these things had overwhelmed Rutherford in succession. Death, death. And more death.
“…”
In countless deaths, Rutherford lost his fighting spirit at some point and just endured what he experienced. Then one day, he met that person. The ‘gypsy who eats secrets’.
“Where’s Clark?”
“He’s in the carriage right behind. Should I call him?”
“No, that’s fine. His heart must be fluttering at meeting his lover, so why interfere? I know that feeling very well too.”
Clark meeting Rien, and Rutherford meeting Bariel after eons of death. When he stubbed out his cigarette, the subordinate knocked on the coachman’s window again and urged him on.
Behind Rutherford’s carriage, nearly a hundred large and small carriages quickly attached. Then dozens of black horses leading at the front of the carriage procession.
If God looked down from that sky above, it would surely be a sight that caught the eye first.
***
“Gasp, wh-what is this—”
“Explain the situation later, hurry! Stop the bleeding!”
“Ah, yes yes. Th-this is King Damon, right? Excuse me for a moment. Bring hemostatic agent!”
“What should we do with the tongue fragment?”
“It doesn’t seem reattachable. Oh my, I’ve seen a few with cut tongues, but this is the first time seeing one shattered into pieces like this. What happened?”
The imperial physicians looked around the wrecked interrogation room and laid Damon down properly. Everything was so covered in blood that there was nothing to say but that it was gruesome. An explosion had occurred in his mouth, so not only was his tongue fragmented, but the inside was indescribably horrific.
The doctors hesitated for a moment, not knowing where to start, then welcomed the arrival of healing mages.
“I’ll inject energy. Since he’s an important attendee for the upcoming grand council, saving him is the priority.”
“No, how can he stand as a witness in this state? It’s impossible. I’m not opposing as a doctor, but medically impossible.”
“He’s the head of war criminals, and this is a meeting to report on that war which just ended. Even a corpse should be brought and placed there.”
“Yes. And that tongue fragment, preserve it securely. It’s evidence that Lord Ian didn’t treat King Damon carelessly. He exploded by himself and caused trouble, so it would be problematic if Lord Ian gets wrongly suspected.”
“Really, bring something to store the tongue fragment!”
“Hemostatic agent is here!”
Clop clop clop!
Bang!
The busy footsteps of those going up and down the stairs echoed noisily.
At the end of the corridor, Romandro blocked the secretaries and carefully read through what they had written. They gripped their pens tightly and glared at Romandro with suspicious eyes.
“If you change even a single dot, we’ll report it immediately.”
“Really, how many times do I have to tell you not to worry? You’re holding the pen, aren’t you? As his aide, I need to know what conversation Lord Ian had with Damon before that incident! Stop making such a fuss and stay still.”
“Fuss? Did you say fuss?”
“Ugh! You keep talking so I have to reread the parts I already read!”
When Romandro threw a tantrum mixed with irritation, the secretaries stepped back with bewildered expressions. Then, realizing that only they would lose by provoking him, they remained silent while holding their pens.
Rustle rustle, the sound of pages turning could be heard amid the commotion. Romandro, who had read everything, looked at Ian sitting a little away.
What on earth was that miraculous boy thinking?
“Ian.”
At Romandro’s call, Ian turned his head. Romandro sat close to Ian and tapped the secretaries’ records.
“So, the fact that Rutherford is a former mage is established based on King Damon’s reaction?”
“Otherwise, his tongue wouldn’t have shattered into pieces like that.”
“Fine. Let’s say that’s true. But is it generally possible for a mage to lose magical power? I’ve never heard of it. Of course, I’m not a mage so I don’t know well. But isn’t magic said to be engraved on the soul? Unless you die, how could it disappear?”
“That’s exactly it.”
“It? What?”
“Death. Since nothing but death can take away a mage’s power, we can assume Rutherford is someone who has already died at least once.”
“Co-could it be related to necromancy?”
“It’s not entirely impossible, but quite unlikely. Hasha didn’t particularly mention anything about Rutherford. Astana has the most authoritative talents in necromancy, and Rutherford wouldn’t have moved excluding them. Looking at his actions including Idgal, it would be more natural to say he’s simply a mage who experienced death.”
“Oh my, really. Wait a minute. I don’t understand well.”
How could someone who died be alive and moving around like that? Being ignorant about regression and reincarnation, Romandro couldn’t easily accept it. Unlike Ian.
‘This body is bastard Ian’s body. Whether I from Bariel a hundred years later died or lived, I can’t be certain yet. But one thing is certain—’
If magical power remained in bastard Ian’s body, it meant his soul hadn’t disappeared either. That he hadn’t died. It would mean he was running a different timeline somewhere like himself, Damon.
That made sense, since Emperor Ian’s possession of bastard Ian happened at Dergha’s backyard, at a meal. Unless he ate poison, there was no reason for bastard Ian to meet death at that place.
“Ian.”
Romandro licked his fingertips and turned the pages of records. His face was full of determination.
Given that there was already talk about connections to the royal family or whatever, and that he made Idgal or whatever, all sorts of nonsense was circulating about Ian, the war hero.
If Damon’s condition became like this too, questions would surely be newly amplified. That Ian harmed Damon to deny and cover up the suspicions.
“We should prepare our defense thoroughly. Since the war just ended, the officials won’t attack too sharply either. But these problems, one by one, are unusual. Don’t give them any openings, okay?”
‘If bastard Ian is alive, where is he now? Is he running a different timeline? Otherwise, he wouldn’t fail to come find Philea. Like I did, he could do the same.’
“First, I’ll try to use some influence with the Administrative Department. I have some connections there more than with other departments. In various ways. The problem is King Damon’s safety that the Burgos side will raise, but since there’s no position from them yet, it would be good for us to hurry and hold the grand council.”
‘The abyss beneath the rift. If there’s no space-time in the abyss, could Naum be there? According to records, Vandor is someone who went beneath the rift. I have no choice but to meet Rutherford directly and ask, but to meet him—’
“Ian. Who am I talking to right now? Are you listening to me?!”
“…Of course.”
“What did I just say?”
“To prepare thoroughly.”
“Hey, hey. You were pretending to listen while half ignoring me!”
“No. I was really listening. But Sir Romandro, please return the records to the secretaries and go to the imperial archives. Please see if there are more records about someone called Vandor. And bring everything that mentions rifts and abysses. Even a single character would be good.”
“No! What if we return the records? Do you know what the secretaries will babble to the imperial family?”
“Then shall we keep holding onto them?”
“That’s not right either—”
“Romandrooo! Sir! Sir Romandro!”
Crash bang!
Bang!
Just then, someone tumbling down the stairs. Romandro clicked his tongue saying it was obvious without looking. Only Beric moved so recklessly in the imperial palace.
“Be quiet, you fool! This is an important moment!”
“Mine’s important too! Viviana is giving birth!”
“Huh?”
Thud. Romandro dropped the records on the floor. His eyes grew round like a rabbit’s and he froze.
“Giving birth. Waa waa. I saw Viviana collapse, so it would be good to hurry?”
“Wh-why did Viviana collapse?”
“I don’t know. Go see for yourself.”
“Th-this is…”
Romandro hurriedly tried to gather up the papers. But Ian gently stopped his hands. He knelt down himself and told Romandro.
“Don’t worry about this and hurry go see.”
“Uh, well, Ian.”
“It’s fine. This isn’t the first time attending a grand council alone. The mother and father should be together at the child’s starting point.”
Strangely, Romandro’s feet wouldn’t move. Normally, usually, he would have just said sorry and run off.
Somehow, if he sent Ian to the grand council alone like this, he felt anxious that he would cause a huge incident. Though he wasn’t sure exactly what.
“Ian, then I’ll just see Viviana and the baby and come right back. Okay?”
“That’s enough. Hurry.”
“Ah, really. Well, anyway, see you later. Beric!”
“The carriage is outside!”
“Right. Got it. Good work! Move!”
Clop clop clop!
Romandro moved his short legs busily and strode up the stairs, while Ian gathered the records and handed them to the secretaries.
Those who had been watching Ian with wary eyes. They snatched the papers away as if stealing them.
“You should return now. And testify at the grand council about what you heard and experienced here without omission.”
“…We would do so without being told. Unnecessary worry.”
“Isn’t worry originally unnecessary?”
When Ian smiled, the secretaries left the interrogation room with hurried steps, pushing through the mages. Wherever they stepped, footprints stained with Damon’s blood were vivid.