In the Second Palace, the mages who had remained at the Ministry of Magic paused in unison. As beings connected by a sixth sense, they had instinctively detected the storm raging somewhere in the palace.
The mages slowly put down their pens and looked at Hale with dissatisfaction.
“Captain.”
Rutherford had invaded the imperial palace. The being who threatened mages by manufacturing Idgal. The cause that was eroding the very foundation of Bariel and forcing Ian to leave the palace.
If they could have their way, they would have rushed to the scene at once to capture those evil beings. They wanted to force Rutherford to his knees before their esteemed highness and secure eternal peace for Bariel. But due to the request from the Imperial Defense, they had no choice but to thoroughly guard the Ministry of Magic—or, more accurately, to guard King Damon, who was being held there.
“Stand by. Don’t be swayed.”
“You felt that just now, didn’t you? This is no ordinary matter.”
“Of course it’s not an ordinary matter when there are intruders in the palace. Instead of talking nonsense, finish writing your reports.”
“Captain Hale! Let’s just hand King Damon over to the Imperial Defense and go provide support! Since they’ve already taken the Burgos delegation, tell them to take charge of King Damon as well!”
“Yes, that’s right. An echo this deep can only be Sir Ian’s mana. You know better than anyone that we create a greater synergy when we’re connected, Captain! You’re a field agent!”
“No one knows if there are other means of restraining mages besides Idgal. I am a mage, but Minister Tweller is a warrior. When it comes to battle, he thinks more deeply than we do, so we will respect his judgment and follow it.”
“Agh, really! Captain!”
“Shut up, you brat. You think I’m comfortable being here?”
“Then let’s go! Since when were you so good at listening to your superiors?”
Hale chewed on his cigarette and sighed. Across from him, he could see Damon’s back through the detention cell window. It was unnerving how he just stood there for so long without moving, as if lost in thought.
He gestured for the mages to shut up and get back to work, then approached the window. Thanks to the mages’ barrier, that place was essentially a completely sealed space.
Knock, knock.
As Hale knocked on the window, Damon turned his head. His expression was impassive, almost peaceful. He looked past Hale, and after confirming there was nothing out of the ordinary, he simply shrugged.
“Is there anything you are uncomfortable with?”
Damon gave a small nod. A result of his severed tongue. Hale thought for a moment, then leaned against the window and frowned.
“Did you anticipate that Rutherford would invade the imperial palace?”
“…”
“This is an interrogation, so answer. Whether it’s Rutherford or his grandfather, the presence of intruders changes nothing. This is the imperial palace, and those bastards will not be able to bring down Bariel.”
Damon smiled as if Hale’s words were truly interesting. He then leaned close to the window and breathed on it, the severed cross-section of his tongue clearly visible within the fog.
Swoosh.
—We have a chance that you do not.
A short phrase was written in the condensation. Something one person considered a curse, and another considered a chance. A life that continued after death.
He didn’t want to admit it, but Damon had, for the ‘present,’ been defeated. But as long as he did not die, that defeat was not the true end, was it? He knew he had a third life, and behind him stood Rutherford, the one who mediated between the gods and the world. He had nothing to fear. When he believed that he was destined to win, what in the world could possibly shake him?
Since only Ian and Jin knew about Damon’s reincarnation, Hale just frowned, wondering what kind of nonsense this was.
Zzzing!
Just then, a powerful force vibrated at the back of his neck. Hale and the mages reacted once more. It was a strange mix of the familiar and the unfamiliar. This meant two different powers.
The familiar one was—
“…The moon is up.”
The black moon. The massive, dark moon that Ian had summoned, now descending toward the edge of the First Palace.
And the unfamiliar one was—
“Intruders! Intruders have come!”
—the presence of Rutherford’s men, who had approached to secure Damon.
Hale drew his sword, and the mages rushed outside, heightening their guard. Where? Where are they hiding? They were not visible.
“Each of you, hold your position!”
“Kill them! The bastards.”
“If we catch you, we’ll tear you apart! Do you know how much shit we’re going through because of you? Why the hell did you make Idgal!?”
“Yeah, and what’s your relationship with Sir Ian?”
“Ever heard of the Magic Ministry Order? Huh?”
The mages shouted into the empty air, glaring at the intruders who were surely listening from somewhere. In that moment, a pillar of light flashed and struck down. Hale instinctively rushed toward it and unleashed his mana, and a figure in a black hood was revealed.
Zzzing! FWOOM!
Just one? The moment Hale had the thought, a roar erupted from behind him—from the direction where Damon was being held.
The mages spread their mana like a net, erecting a wall so that no unauthorized person could take a single step forward.
CRASH! BANG!
Two more intruders in black hoods appeared. As the mages spread their hands wide to conjure a spell, another one fell from the ceiling like a meteor.
The world brightened and darkened with every exchange of blows. It was not long before a crack appeared in the seemingly endless, tense battle.
“…?”
As if sensing something, the intruders paused in unison and looked in one direction—toward the First Palace, where the black moon had risen. They frowned, unable to hide their deep frustration.
“Tigmor, what do we do?”
“Did Lord Rutherford go back? Without us?”
“What? What happened to Rutherford?”
“Hah, haah, you bastards. Talking shit because you think you’re being pushed back.”
“Keep coming, you brats!”
The mages, drenched in sweat, their red headbands fluttering, were about to charge the intruders, not knowing that they, too, should have paused, just as the enemy had sensed the strange energy.
“…Huh?”
“Why…”
Why has the mana that was overflowing from the First Palace vanished without a trace? The mages slowly looked up at the clear sky, where the black moon was now gone.
****
For Ian, it was the absolute right choice.
He had already died under the name of Verocion, and therefore, he could not run along the same timeline as the people he had met here.
If, by dealing with Rutherford, he could enter the abyss and meet Naum, if he could speak even a single word to Naum who was dying in continued agony, if the gods would permit him to bring him back outside, then any choice would be the right one. Unquestionably.
Zzzing!
“Lord Rutherford!”
There was no end to Ian’s coughing up of blood. It was the trace of him having burned everything, thinking this was the end.
Rutherford and his mages stepped back to get away from Ian, but who could possibly escape a moon falling from the sky? Everyone would be devoured. Everyone would seep into that darkness, pass through the Rift, and awaken in the abyss.
「Ten-Thousand Leaves」.
SWOOOOSH!
The World Tree spread from behind Ian’s back like wings.
Rutherford, and of course, his mages, could not believe what was happening. He must have been suffering the pain of his organs being torn and his heart being crushed by the contract magic. And in that state, not only was he opening a portal on his own, but he was casting Ten-Thousand Leaves?
The portal, with high probability, was connected to the Rift in Clifford. It was closer than the one in the north, after all.
SHRED!
“Lord Rutherford! This is no good! You must get out of the building. It’s endless!”
The mages continuously struck down the World Tree, but they instinctively knew that as long as Ian was not dead, there was nothing they could do.
In that opening, a thick tree trunk snaked up Rutherford’s ankle. It wrapped around his thigh, passed his waist, and in an instant, gripped his neck. Rutherford struggled with all his might and shouted.
“You—!”
Ian! Ian! Ian!
Rutherford silently called Ian’s name over and over, invoking the sanctity of the contract magic. Seeing the faint reaction below his chest, the power was clearly still being activated.
But why was that bastard not collapsing? But why was he not kneeling again?
“Sir Ian!”
“G-Going to the abyss…”
The injured mages called out to Ian, limping, but he did not turn his gaze in the slightest. He was using every ounce of his strength to maintain the portal and wield Ten-Thousand Leaves. If his focus were to waver even a little, he felt everything would turn to dust.
That was how desperately Ian was crumbling. It felt as if only a single, small, and fragile thread were holding him up. He did not know what it was. Whether it was the serenity of accepting his own fate, or his love for Bariel. Even thinking about it was a luxury for Ian.
SWOOOOSH!
“Ugh!”
As if connected by an unknown power, Ian and Rutherford were linked by the World Tree. Ian, trying to pull him into the black moon, and Rutherford, resisting. Blood stained the fingertips that were trying to tear away the trunk.
Just then, a hand reached out from among the mages who had been staring blankly at the scene.
Grip.
It was Akorella. She had crawled across the corridor and grabbed Ian’s World Tree. For a moment, it seemed she might try to stop him, but the mages soon realized that Akorella was pouring her remaining power into Ian. She roughly rubbed her blood-caked face and shouted.
“You morons, their side is busy trying to save their master, and we’re just standing here watching?”
“C-Captain! But—”
“But what, but what!?”
“Sir Ian said he’s going to the abyss…”
“The abyss, or hell! It is Sir Ian’s judgment and his decision. Who dares to question a superior’s decision? Get your heads on straight! His Highness Jin is outside!”
If we fail to deal with Rutherford here and leave behind future trouble, can you take responsibility? Since this was a decision made by their guide, Ian, it was right to trust and follow him completely.
Akorella shouted as she transferred her mana. Ian wasn’t looking this way, but he could surely hear her voice.
“Sir Ian! I don’t know about anything else, but live!”
“Captain, please! This really won’t do!”
“If you’re alive, we can see you again! Thank you for the Rulon stone.³ And, ugh. Make sure to eat well.”
“Captain, I don’t want to. I-I can’t do it. It feels like I’m pushing Sir Ian into the abyss—”
“Sir Ian! Come back! We’ll be waiting for you!”
“Please! Don’t do it! No!”
Opinions were divided among the mages. Those who helped Akorella and transferred all their remaining mana, and those who could not bring themselves to do it.
SWOOOOOSH!
The World Tree, having gained the power of the mages, soared even more fiercely. Ian looked only at Rutherford, never turning back. His choice was surely the right one. When considered from every angle, it was the right choice without a single flaw. But why, then, did one side of his heart ache so? Unaware that he was crying, Ian threw his body into the black moon.
Slowly, his surroundings were erased. The mages, the chandelier— The painting hanging on the wall…
‘Ah.’
The painting, so massive it reached the ceiling, lingered in Ian’s gaze for a long time. A painting of an angel blessing Bariel. The blue eyes were so detailed, they seemed to move as if they were alive. As he was drawn into it, Ian suddenly realized.
‘Jin is beyond that painting.’
A truly fitting place of refuge. Just as the Emperor had done, he had been watching everything from behind the painting.
Ian smiled faintly and embraced the World Tree tightly. It felt like sinking into a sea of silence. Rutherford’s screams, chasing after him at the end, felt like they were growing ever more distant.