Chapter 24. Nersaren

"G-Good heavens! What brings the Sky-Piercing Tribe here...?"

That was something Ian wondered as well. What in the world could have brought the Sky-Piercing Tribe all the way here? From their encampment to the Bratz territory was a full three days' ride at a relentless gallop. Surely, they hadn't mobilized their kusille for some trivial reason.

'Seems like an unannounced visit.'

If it had been a scheduled meeting, Hanna would have known. She would have been busy preparing for guests since the previous day.

Ian noticed the Sky-Piercing tribesmen's gazes directed at him.

"Th-They're looking this way."

"Ugh..."

Behind him, Beric could only manage a strained groan. The tribesmen whispered among themselves, then split into two groups. The one who seemed to be their leader went through the main gate towards the manor, while his subordinates approached Ian.

"Th-They're coming! They're coming this way!"

Any resident of the Bratz territory would react like Hanna.

They were a longtime adversary with whom they shared an uneasy truce, beings of unknown origin, barbarians who wielded transcendent power. The servants couldn't hide their mix of bewilderment, fear, and excitement.

"Hanna. No need to make a fuss."

"But they're from the Sky-Piercing Tribe! And wh-why are their birds so big?"

"They arrived here without any resistance. They bear no ill will."

While Ian reassured Hanna, the Sky-Piercing tribesman was already sizing them up.

"Excuse me."

The man, now close, peered down at Ian from atop his kusille. His sharp, un-double-lidded eyes were undeniably intimidating. They scrutinized Ian's hair and features with unsettling intensity.

"Are you Ian, the second son of Count Bratz?"

"I am. And who might you be?"

Hanna subtly hid behind Ian. For someone from the borderlands, the tribesman spoke the Common Tongue remarkably well.

"We have an urgent message from the Sky-Piercing Tribe. We need to meet with the Count, and with you as well. We'd like to go up together, if that's alright."

An urgent message.

The fact that they requested Ian's presence meant it must concern the peace treaty. Ian nodded, signaling to Hanna with his eyes.

"When training is over, give Beric some fruit and cool water."

Beric's face instantly crumpled. It meant that training would continue even in his absence.

"Lord Ian! Lord Ian!"

Sure enough, servants came running out of the manor, calling for Ian. He left the tribesmen behind and ascended to Derga's office. Amidst the chaotic atmosphere, the butler stood with his hands clasped together, looking troubled.

"Father, you called for me?"

"Come closer."

The leader, who had entered the manor earlier, was sitting on the sofa. Countless thick scars ran down his neck.

Derga, with an unusually gentle smile, grasped Ian's shoulder.

"Ian, pay your respects. This is Nersaren, an emissary of the Sky-Piercing Tribe. He is the younger brother of Chieftain Kakantir."

The Count's grip tightened significantly. It was a reminder to stay sharp. Everything they had done so far was a rehearsal for this very moment.

"It is an honor to meet you. I am Ian Bratz."

Jet-black eyes scanned Ian from head to toe. He then clasped his hands together in a prayer-like gesture and responded. It was the custom of the Sky-Piercing Tribe.

"I am Balamei chin Nersaren."

"What brings you here?"

Perhaps finding Ian unreliable, Derga quickly interjected. Though tea hadn't been served yet, Nersaren answered without hesitation.

"We need to adjust the schedule for the peace treaty."

Straight to the point, without any beating around the bush. It was partly due to their nature, but it also indicated the urgency of the situation.

"Chieftain Winchen's health has suddenly deteriorated. It's not as though she hasn't had ailments due to her age, but this is the first time she's taken to her bed. Only the gods know what the future holds, so we must prepare for everything."

This was due to the Sky-Piercing Tribe's funeral customs. When a family member died, they would seclude themselves for a year, praying to the gods for their soul's rest. When a chieftain died, the entire tribe had to participate.

Until now, most chieftains' deaths had been due to rebellions. Those who were overthrown were not given such honors, and only their immediate families performed the rituals.

But what about Chieftain Winchen?

She was the root of the Sky-Piercing Tribe, a figure whose origins even Derga couldn't fathom. If the entire tribe went into seclusion, the peace ceremony would naturally be impossible. They had come in haste to adjust the date because of this.

'It makes sense for the chieftain's own brother to come, even considering they're entering enemy territory.'

"Are you saying you want to move the date forward?"

"Indeed."

Chieftain Winchen was a gypsy who could discern lies. Since a new offering for the peace treaty was entering the community, she intended to use her abilities to uncover any of Ian's impurities.

"Therefore, we seek Count Bratz's and Lord Ian's understanding. We would be grateful if you would consider this a gesture of goodwill for the sake of peace."

Although he used polite words befitting someone making a request, the nuance was quite ambiguous. It was a veiled threat: refuse, and there would be no treaty, and they would once again be smelling blood instead of peace.

Derga masked his displeasure with a dry cough and asked, "There's only a month and a few days left. How much earlier do you want it to be?"

"We would like to proceed with a minimal ceremony."

Nersaren added that even the coming weekend would be acceptable.

The Count chose to remain silent for a moment instead of answering. This put them in a difficult position. They needed to immediately send the cornered lord to the capital to proceed with the registration.

'If we can't make the timing work, there's no choice...'

They would have to finalize the treaty first.

After all, registration was just a formality on paper and had nothing to do with the Sky-Piercing Tribe. They would be more interested in whether Ian truly carried Derga's blood, and they would trust Winchen's word over hundreds of documents.

"...You must be tired after traveling for days."

"I am fine. This is nothing."

"Perhaps you are, but what about your kusille?"

Once they returned to the Great Desert, they would have to push through sandstorms again. It would undoubtedly be a grueling journey for the already fatigued kusille.

"Why don't you rest here for the day and depart tomorrow morning?"

It meant he would give them an answer by then. It was only right for Derga to discuss this matter with the cornered lord before setting a date.

Nersaren's brow furrowed slightly at the evasive answer, but he said nothing more.

"...Thank you for your kindness."

"Nonsense. It is only natural to extend such courtesy to friends of our allies. Butler! Show our guests to their rooms!"

The butler, who had been waiting outside, quickly entered and guided the guests. As Nersaren and his men left the office, Ian turned to look at Derga. He was gnawing on his fingernails, lost in thought.

'Is he really that worried? That's unexpected.'

The verification of registration could only be issued by the Imperial Palace, so even if they applied now, it would take time. Since the Sky-Piercing Tribe had initiated the date change, they could afford to give them the documents a bit later.

The preparations for the peace ceremony must have just begun. The important thing was the treaty itself, so if their intentions aligned, it could be done as early as this weekend, as Nersaren suggested.

'He doesn't seem to be trying to gain anything.'

There was no room for negotiation. The list of exchanges had already been decided, and if Winchen died, the treaty's fate would become uncertain. In this case, it was in Derga's best interest to cooperate as much as possible. Only then could they gain an advantage in future dealings.

"Father?"

Ian called out to him. The nail-biting was getting worse. It was a question driven more by curiosity than concern. At his son's voice, the Count suddenly came to his senses.

"...Are you still here?"

"I was wondering if I should also entertain the guests."

He couldn't leave without being told to do so.

At Ian's words, Derga waved his hand dismissively. It meant to stay put in his room and not cause any trouble.

"Nersaren is a valued younger brother of the chieftain. He is a man of unusual perception, so don't even think about dealing with him carelessly."

"I will keep that in mind."

"Is anyone out there?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Prepare the carriage! Quickly!"

Derga shouted as he grabbed his coat. It seemed he was about to rush to the cornered lord to share the situation.

Ian turned and glanced at the still firmly locked makeshift bedroom. With the aide's position vacant, things must be quite hectic.

'What incredible timing.'

If he had delayed any longer, the cornered lord might have returned to the capital without receiving the secret dispatch. It felt as if the gods were watching over them.

Ian smiled faintly and stepped outside, where he saw Beric sprawled out. Hanna was diligently fanning him nearby.

"Young master! Are you finished with your business? What in the world is going on?"

"It's nothing major. The date of the peace ceremony might be changed. Have you already finished running around the garden?"

"Can't you tell by looking? I'm about to die, dammit! Ugh..."

"Will those Sky-Piercing people be staying at the mansion for long? The butler guided them to the annex earlier."

Hanna continued to fan him while chattering. They couldn't keep foreigners in the main building, especially after the recent unpleasant incident in the office. On the other hand, the annex was full of rooms for entertaining guests. They were probably assigned a room on the floor above Ian's.

'The surveillance will be intense.'

Soldiers would likely stand guard around the building all night. Still, if Ian was determined, he could make contact. After all, they were a party to the "peace" treaty. They couldn't station guards right outside their door.

"Young master, shall I ask the butler to change your room for tonight?"

Hanna asked with concern. She seemed uneasy about having him share a building with the Sky-Piercing Tribe. Ian shook his head and smiled.

"It's fine. They are people I will be living alongside in the future. Beric, get a hold of yourself and follow me. Hanna, you can go back to your duties now."

At the firm command, Beric staggered to his feet. Ian, who had been watching quietly, grabbed his forehead and infused him with mana.

Ziiiiing-

"I told you to get a hold of yourself."

"Damn it. Giving with one hand and taking with the other..."

"Think of it as the carrot and the stick."

Spit! Beric spat out a bitter breath and finally took a step. Gradually, his gait became steadier. As they entered the annex building, they could hear the anxious chatter of the servants.

"Did you see them? They're much bigger than I thought!"

"That's why they say ten soldiers wouldn't be able to take one down. Ugh. They're like beasts."

"What kind of food will we serve them? Did the butler say anything?"

"They're barbarians, so they'll probably just eat raw meat, right?"

Were they ignorant or malicious?

Ian clicked his tongue and made his presence known. The servants greeted Ian without much surprise.

'Ignorant it is.'

"I heard we have guests."

"There were no suitable rooms available, so we put them on the floor above yours, young master. You should sleep in the main building tonight."

"Or shall we have someone stand guard?"

"You must lock your door tightly when you sleep!"

Ian tried to tune them out and gave his instructions.

"Enough. Prepare some light refreshments and wine and bring them up. This isn't a meal, so there's no need to inform the butler."

They had arrived so suddenly that they hadn't even been offered a cup of tea in the office. That was unacceptable etiquette for a nobleman to show guests who had traveled for days. Derga had told him not to get involved, but Ian had no intention of doing so.

Knock, knock.

"It's Ian Bratz. May I come in?"

"...Enter."

He entered the room along with the servants carrying trays. As if they were caged animals, the tribesmen were all standing. The servants hesitantly set the food on the table.

"You must be hungry after your long journey. Please, have some refreshments. Everyone was a bit slow to prepare due to the sudden visit. I apologize for the inconvenience."

At Ian's greeting, Nersaren approached. He looked down at Ian as if he were some fascinating creature. Each was regarding the other as an unfamiliar beast.

"When I saw you earlier, I was puzzled because you look nothing like the Count. I wondered how the bloodlines of the Empire's nobles could be so different."

At the leader's blunt joke, his subordinates burst into laughter. Nersaren turned his head and gestured to them with his eyes. It was a signal to take the food.

"But now that I see you up close, you are definitely a noble."

It was a compliment, but not quite. It was respectful, but not quite. The ambiguous nuance continued. Nersaren smiled and added,

"That was a compliment, young master Ian."

If Derga was the one holding the leash, these were the ones holding a sword to their throats. But...

'Your swords will soon become my swords.'

Ian smiled brightly in return, then calmly approached.