Brown hair tied back tightly under a helmet, and eyes that curved softly at the corners. Though she was a mess, soaked in sweat and dust, Ian recognized her immediately. She was the woman he had seen in front of the puppet show when he snuck out with Jin. The woman who had reportedly appeared in Jin’s dreams countless times, replacing Roberside.
Irene looked bewildered, wondering why on earth the Minister of Magic would call for her.
“What is the matter, sir?”
At Ian’s call, everyone’s attention focused on them. The Minister of Magic himself had stopped a low-ranking soldier; surely there was a significant reason? Some soldiers rolled their eyes, wondering if it was simply because Irene was a woman.
“Irene?”
“Yes. That is me.”
Irene. Ian felt he had heard her name somewhere before, too.
He instantly realized that the longer his silence stretched, the more overheated the soldiers’ attention became. Simultaneously, he retrieved a fragment from the depths of his memory.
“You were a soldier who participated in the Northern Battle, correct?”
“Yes. That is correct. I am one of the survivors.”
One of the soldiers who had stood against the overflow of demonic beasts in the North and returned alive by divine grace. He had only confirmed the survivors of the Northern overflow later through a list, but he remembered her because she was the only woman on it, leaving a deep impression.
As Ian opened with that, the soldiers let out small gasps of admiration. Of course, a Minister is different! He had recognized one specific soldier out of tens of thousands.
Some soldiers chimed in, praising Irene.
“Irene really was amazing back then. She stood at the very front of the vanguard. She is a soldier of incredible courage.”
“That she is. Even with severe injuries, she fulfilled her role perfectly. She is a comrade worth holding up as an example.”
“Ahem, how dare you interrupt. That is disrespectful!”
“Ah, I-I apologize.”
When a superior officer raised his voice in rebuke, Ian stopped him with a gesture. He needed more information about her.
“It is fine. A soldier of valiant spirit is a blessing to Bariel and a treasure to His Imperial Majesty, so it is only right that you race to speak of her good points. I do not mind, so do not scold them too harshly.”
“Yes, Minister.”
“Right. I heard that His Majesty personally visited to commend your efforts some time ago. It is good to see you like this.”
Ian mentioned the Emperor and observed Irene’s reaction. If the two had met, surely he wouldn’t be unaware of it? Jin would have told him.
But judging by the current situation, it was clear they had missed each other.
“I merely did my duty as a soldier of Bariel, yet he bestowed liquor and meat to comfort us. It was a true honor.”
So she didn’t see him in person.
As Ian’s eyes narrowed slightly, Tweller also examined Irene with a puzzled look. If this was the Ian Hielo he knew, he wouldn’t be standing here holding up a passing soldier without a special reason.
The situation wasn’t quite right to call it a move for boosting morale. There were too few soldiers around to view it as an intentional propaganda moment. Besides, with a crucial reconnaissance mission ahead, wasn’t everyone busy?
“I see. Understood. Keep up the hard work.”
“Yes, Minister. I will keep it in mind.”
After a moment of deliberation, Ian passed her by without any further action. The soldiers made a fuss with their eyes, and Irene continued on her way to the shift change.
Tweller watched Irene’s receding figure disappear into the distance, then matched his pace with Ian’s and whispered.
“What is it? Is she a woman you know?”
“Yes. A little. But it is fine. Minister Tweller, please forget this encounter and treat her just like any ordinary soldier. I know you would do so without my saying, but I ask out of needless worry.”
By reiterating the obvious, he was emphasizing that Irene’s existence was special. Do not intervene, but watch over her. Tweller understood Ian’s intent and simply nodded.
“Thank you.”
Ian smiled faintly.
The fact that Irene was appearing in Jin’s dreams instead of Roberside was surely a sign of a fated connection. However it unfolded, it was certain to draw out a positive change for Jin.
But they had missed each other once already?
Does that mean the time is not yet right?
God had judged it wasn’t the appropriate time, and Ian found himself agreeing. What could a common soldier, not even a noble, do right now? It wouldn’t help Jin, nor would it help Irene herself.
It was better to watch her secretly and offer help only when intervention was truly necessary. Like God opening a path with the tip of a finger.
“Minister.”
“Xiaoshi. Did you feel the earthquake just now?”
At that moment, Xiaoshi, who had been summoned, approached fully armed. It was a night of rest for everyone, but it seemed that didn’t apply to him.
“Yes. I felt it, but determining the exact location is impossible.”
“It’s because it happened some distance away. We will organize a scout team. Take command and go swiftly.”
“Understood.”
Xiaoshi bowed silently to Tweller and Ian, then led the soldiers out.
Soon, the sound of hoofbeats cutting through the darkness rang out. The residents shrank back, peering outside, and Ian continued to watch Xiaoshi and the soldiers until they disappeared. At this, Tweller spoke firmly.
“Do not worry, Minister Ian. If something is happening, Xiaoshi will report it immediately.”
***
“Wow, fuck. That really wakes you up.”
Clutching her thigh, Barsabe muttered a curse through her teeth. At first, it had burned like fire, but now warm, wet blood was flowing down steadily.
She swallowed dryly and stared ahead. Even though she had prepared herself for being outmatched, she was painfully realizing that there’s no beating a mob. She should have at least pretended to listen when Beric was making a fuss earlier.
“It’s that Imperial Guard magic swordsman from before.”
“Magic swordsman?”
At Rutherford’s words, his subordinates snickered in mockery. It was ridicule—for a magic swordsman who serves the Emperor in the palace, you look pathetic.
Barsabe felt heat rush to her face, and unable to hold back, she swung her sword. In a place where only dim twilight existed, blades clashed, creating sparks.
Chae-aeng! Cheng!
Puw-wung!
“For a guy running his mouth during a fight, I’ve never seen one keep his tongue intact!”
“Maybe because they’re all dead? Like you’re about to be?”
“Hiyahhh!”
“Not just stupid, but arrogant! What did you think you could do alone!”
Krr-rruk!
A blade pushed right up to Barsabe’s eyes. She was blocking with all her might, but the stab wounds in her abdomen and lower body disrupted her sense of balance.
Fucking bastards. They’re toying with me.
Even though her back was completely exposed, no one attacked. Having completely calculated their odds of victory, they were trying to vent their humiliation from the fall of Aguiar on her.
When the enemy lets their guard down, an opportunity comes.
Barsabe recalled Jeirutt’s teaching and focused on every exchange.
Swoosh! Slash!
“Aaaagh!”
What followed was the opponent’s scream. She had sliced cleanly through his windpipe.
The sense of achievement was brief before a strange mana burst open from behind.
Puw-wung! Pow!
Thud!
In an instant, another one grabbed Barsabe by the nape of her neck and slammed her into the ground. She tried to explode her mana to create a reaction force, but her strength was severely lacking. Even if they had all exhausted their mana in the Aguiar battle, there were many of them, and she was alone.
A man grabbed a fistful of Barsabe’s hair roughly and slammed her head into the ground repeatedly.
“Using a sword on you is a waste.”
“Kuh-heuk…”
Barsabe’s resistance faded meaninglessly. Aside from the pain in her forehead, the shame of having her hair grabbed made her feel like she could die of rage.
While the magic swordsmen beat Barsabe this way and that, Rutherford whispered something to the Toolun puppeteers. The puppeteers frowned in question at Rutherford’s words, but soon nodded.
“It’s worth a try.”
“Good. Hey, you lot. Stop.”
“Die! Die!”
“Stop!”
The excited magic swordsmen, drenched in sweat, looked back. Their breathing was rough with rage, while Barsabe lay motionless, not twitching a muscle.
“Is she dead?”
“No. She’s still breathing. Though she looks like she’d die with just one more hit. Should we cut off a piece and throw her off the cliff?”
“No. There is a better way.”
At Rutherford’s nod, the puppeteers scampered over and surrounded Barsabe. They took out sewing kits and the like from their robes, then nudged Barsabe’s face with the tips of their shoes.
“Tsk. Completely mashed. Will she even be able to return to proper function if she survives this?”
“She’s a magic swordsman, not a regular soldier. If there’s a possibility of recovery, we can’t throw her away. It’s a waste.”
“Well, that is true. Ahem. Now, now, open up… Oh? She’s missing a molar? Was it just knocked out?”
“For that, the gum looks healed.”
“Lord Rutherford. What are those people doing right now?”
The magic swordsmen, wiping away sweat, muttered disapprovingly as they watched the puppeteers. Their actions were so suspicious and shady that, despite being on the same side, they felt doubtful.
Rutherford signaled the magic swordsmen to stay calm with his eyes.
“We will make her into the puppeteers’ doll. There have been cases of making dolls from human skin, but I believe this is the first time attempting it with a living subject.”
“Yes, that’s correct. I don’t know if it will work well. Even necromancy gets messy to clean up if you cast it on a live one. Wasn’t this controversial once in Bariel a long time ago?”
“If you make her into a doll… what, what happens?”
“Literally, she will move as we desire. Even if that is impossible because the body is living, if we focus, we will see what she sees and hear exactly what she hears.”
“Is that possible?”
“I’m holding a needle right now to make it possible, aren’t I? Would you shut up a bit?”
Visuals might be a bit difficult. The mental consumption for the puppeteer is significant when using the ability, and visual confirmation is almost impossible even with original tools. In this case, well, isn’t it obvious without looking?
But hearing is different. They could reasonably expect that.
“Hum-hum-hum. Good thing I oiled the needle yesterday.”
Disgusting bastards. The magic swordsmen frowned and whispered to Rutherford.
“Lord Rutherford. Still, how about we move locations first? The pursuit is still ongoing. Did this magic swordsman not follow us all the way here? If there is anyone else nearby, they surely sensed the mana from the battle just now. The possibility they felt the vibration is even higher.”
“Puppeteers. How long will it take?”
“It’ll be over soon. Ten minutes? Am I not the best stitch master in Toolun?”
“Where did Lord Bagban go then?”
“I’m saying that because that old man died.”
Ten minutes. Isn’t that acceptable?
When Rutherford looked back at the magic swordsmen, the puppeteers turned their heads as if they had given up arguing. Tick-tock, they just checked their pocket watches, watching the endlessly flowing time.
“Oh, and about the portal you mentioned earlier—”
It was just as the Ruswena mages were about to mention their next move.
Suddenly, the surroundings seemed to brighten, and then a searing heat washed over them. Startled, they turned around to see flames soaring up from below the cliff.
Chwa-aaak!
The scene before their eyes brightened instantly as if it were midday. Their vision, accustomed to the darkness, went blind for a moment. They stumbled back, covering their eyes with their arms, and then felt a heavy, dull roar.
It was—
KABOOM!
“…What do you lot think you’re doing with someone else’s molar?”
The vibration caused by Beric, who had flown up the cliff and landed on the earth.