Chapter 23. Warriors

"Those central nobles lack tenacity," Derga muttered, his frown deepening as he ascended the stairs to his study. It seemed the tutor's long years of diligent service had vanished from his memory. The butler, too, wore a troubled smile.

"Indeed. To think he would resign so suddenly."

"Is there another scholar from Bariel Academy in Bratz?"

"I shall make inquiries. If not, we must bring one in from elsewhere."

This was an unwelcome complication. Where else could he find a Bariel Academy graduate willing to tutor for such a meager sum?

Perhaps freezing his salary for years had been a mistake. He should have offered gradual increases to keep him on the hook. Though, if the tutor was leaving for research in another land, perhaps money hadn't been the issue.

"It will be expensive, won't it?"

"Undoubtedly. We'll need to offer at least ten times the previous tuition. And even then, there's no guarantee they'll accept..."

Damn it! Derga stomped his foot in frustration. As he neared the study, he suddenly remembered his aide, who had been conspicuously absent.

"Is my aide still asleep?"

"He retired late last night, my lord. He must be exhausted."

"What a charmed life. Wake him and send him home."

Creak.

The moment he opened the door, Derga froze. The butler's puzzled look was irrelevant. The room, usually a picture of order, was subtly altered.

"...What is this?"

It wasn't his imagination. His aide was sprawled on the floor, a pile of documents slightly askew. The butler, rushing in behind him, gasped and covered his mouth.

"Heavens! Are you alright?"

Unlike the butler, who immediately checked the aide's condition, Derga rushed to the drawers. He checked the secret safe inside, confirming that the seal and various valuables were untouched.

"My lord! Shall I summon a physician?"

"...Is he dead?" Derga's voice was sharp, edged with suspicion. If the aide had collapsed in front of the desk, only one possibility came to mind. He had fallen into the same trap as the previous butler.

"He still breathes."

"Fetch a physician. And the moment he wakes, report to me. Station someone to ensure he doesn't flee."

"Yes, my lord. At once! Someone! Is anyone out there!"

"What is the matter?"

Chaos erupted. Servants rushed to move the aide while Derga meticulously inspected the study. Fortunately, nothing seemed to be missing or altered.

Perhaps it was the relief of finding no losses, but a surge of betrayal now welled up within him.

"...Insolent wretch!"

"My lord, please, you mustn't!"

"After everything I did for you! To repay me like this!"

Thud!

Derga struck the unconscious aide's face, venting his frustrated rage.

Meanwhile, back in the annex, Beric bit into an apple and asked, "It's noisy. Did they find out?"

Servants who had been leisurely resting were now rushing towards the main building. A carriage sped across the garden, no doubt carrying a physician. Ian leaned against the window, observing the commotion with keen interest.

"They found out. The aide was inside."

"Damn. Your head's on the chopping block now."

"Are you scared?"

"If I die like this, it means I was exploited for nothing."

Not entirely untrue. Ian chuckled at Beric's words.

Ian broke the wooden key and handed Beric a small pouch. Inside, a carefully rolled piece of paper meant for the informant.

"Burn the key somewhere discreetly. And deliver this to Lord Molin. You must hand it to him personally. You know the address?"

This was the final step. Beric tucked it into his pocket and nodded.

"Deliver it to Lord Molin, get the gold coins. And on your way back, stop by my home and relay a message to Philia."

"Excellent."

He was to deliver a message to Ian's mother, Philia.

Tell her the time was near. If she was ready to disappear, she should vanish without a trace. Only Ian, through Beric, would know her whereabouts. Even if they crossed the border, there would be nothing to tie them down.

"Let's start proper training tomorrow."

"Once I complete this task successfully."

"Oh? Fine. Don't go back on your word later."

Beric had the look of someone who would stop at nothing to complete a task if it served his purpose. Ian tossed him another apple and grinned.

"See you tomorrow."

Creak.

The die was cast.

All that remained was to observe how the other side would react. On second thought, being discovered by the aide might not be entirely bad.

'Even though I cleaned up, I might have missed something in my haste. Derga would surely notice. This could divert his attention to the aide.'

If the aide woke up and gave his testimony, it would open another can of worms, but whether Derga would believe him was another matter. While the aide was incapacitated, the Count would likely come to his own conclusions, and those were unlikely to change, no matter what.

Knock, knock.

The sound of knocking turned Ian's head.

"Lord Ian. May I come in?"

"Ah, tutor."

The tutor entered, sweating profusely. He seemed utterly drained from his conversation with Derga. The image of an employer reluctant to let go and an employee desperate to leave was clear.

"Did your discussion with my father go well?"

"Y-yes..."

"I'm saddened that today is our last lesson. I'm truly grateful for your excellent teaching. As a token of my appreciation, I've prepared a small gift."

Ian smoothly presented a folded piece of paper. It was a travel permit bearing the seal of Bratz. The tutor exhaled a sigh of relief, repeatedly wiping his dry face.

"Oh, heavens."

"Is it not to your liking?"

"No, it's just... When our eyes met earlier, you should have smiled! I was so worried something was wrong."

The tutor clutched the permit to his chest as if it were his lifeline.

"I hope you continue your valuable research in Blastor. Though many may not pay attention, it is people like you who ultimately change the world."

Ian offered genuine encouragement. The tutor's lifelong dedication to his studies formed the foundation of Bariel Academy, and one day, it would become a driving force for Ian.

The tutor, searching for the right words, rummaged through his bag.

"Here, this is the data you requested."

It was a map of the Great Desert and its predicted climate. It meticulously detailed oasis locations and even the altitudes of sand dunes.

"Based on the dates you mentioned, there's a high probability of a sandstorm forming in the northeast, around this area. I can't say for certain about the Thousand Blade Tribe's movements, but with any luck, you should be able to avoid it."

The daily temperature fluctuations were extreme, described as a hellish inferno and a freezing abyss. Ian sighed, imagining the hardships ahead, which could be measured in numbers.

"You look troubled."

"It makes me want to give up the whole thing."

"Well, people do live there."

Was this his way of returning the earlier encouragement? Ian carefully folded the paper and placed it in a drawer.

"Are you leaving today?"

"Yes. I can't wait any longer."

Ian extended his hand, marking their final farewell, and the tutor hesitantly took it. They exchanged smiles, wishing each other good fortune.

"Ah, before you go."

"Yes?"

He looked as if to ask what else there could be.

Ian took out the letter from the Thousand Blade Tribe that he had copied from Derga's study yesterday. It was a transcription of scattered words, not complete sentences.

"Could you translate this for me?"

The tutor studied the paper and tilted his head.

"'Who will come after the current female chieftain?'"

He read it aloud but chuckled, clearly not understanding its meaning. Neither did Ian.

However, the fact that it was kept in the secret safe confirmed its importance.

"Did you hear?"

"About the aide? Oh, it's a scary world."

"I know. I heard this has happened before."

"You never really know what's in a person's heart. It's shocking."

The atmosphere in the mansion was unsettled. The butler tried his best to maintain order, but it was a difficult task. Whenever two or more servants gathered, the incident with the aide was the main topic of conversation.

"...So, he still hasn't woken up?"

"No, young master."

Ian asked Hanna, leaving behind the chatter of the departing servants. The child followed, holding his outer garment. Behind them, Beric trudged along, weighed down by sandbags.

"The Count hasn't sent him home. He's locked him in the office inside his study. Two guards in the hallway, one in front of the door. Servants are strictly forbidden from approaching."

Hanna whispered, relaying what she had overheard. It was no surprise he hadn't woken up easily, considering the amount of mana Ian had used. Hanna was bursting with curiosity.

"What on earth did you do?"

She was asking how he had managed to incapacitate the aide. Hanna had no idea that Ian could manipulate mana, and her curiosity was driving her mad.

"Here, take this."

"Gasp! Gold coins!"

Instead of answering, Ian handed her a gold coin from the pouch Beric had brought. It was proof that the informant letter had been successfully delivered to Molin.

"This is for your efforts and the carpenter's share. Make sure it's delivered properly."

"This is too much. Wow."

"Really? Then you can give some back."

"No, no. Hehe. Don't be silly."

Saying it was too much was not the same as refusing. Hanna grinned, biting the gold coin with her front teeth. She quickly tucked it into her inner pocket and stepped back, pretending nothing had happened.

"Beric, hurry up."

"Didn't you say this was proper training...?"

"What if it isn't? Should we increase the weight?"

"...I'll shut up."

"You're impatient, so this method suits you. We'll gradually increase your limits. Two more laps, and then we'll try some swordsmanship."

"You sure found a great master!"

"Thank you for the compliment. I found a useful pair of hands, too."

Beric glared at Ian with burning eyes, then took a heavy step forward. With no more tutoring sessions, he could dedicate the entire day to training with Beric. Derga, too, remained holed up in his study after yesterday's incident.

But then...

Clip-clop!

The sound of hooves echoed from the front gate. They wondered if the physician had returned, but the commotion was unusual. Ian stood idly under a tree, his gaze fixed on the entrance.

"Ah."

He thought it might be a black horse, but it wasn't.

It was a Kushile, an essential mode of transportation for traversing the desert. A creature somewhere between a horse and a camel, the Kushile was a representative animal companion of the Thousand Blade Tribe. In other words-

"Who are they?"

Hanna asked, and Ian hesitated before answering.

Mounted on the saddles were imposing warriors. Their faces were painted with red pigments, and they adorned themselves with golden ornaments to announce their presence. They were, without a doubt...

"The Thousand Blade Tribe."