Chapter 27. The Treaty Ceremony

The day had finally arrived.

Ian sat on his bed, watching the sun rise over the horizon. Ever since he had opened his eyes in the Bratz Estate, he had been striving for this very moment.

Knock, knock.

"Lord Ian."

Hannah entered cautiously, calling out to him. It was clear that she had been crying the previous night. Her small eyes were swollen, making it difficult for her to meet his gaze.

"Hannah. My word."

"Have you finished packing?"

Ian wanted to chuckle, but he simply nodded in response to her serious question. There wasn't much to pack. A few articles of clothing, some miscellaneous books, and the only thing in the room that truly belonged to 'Ian' - a potted plant.

"...I almost wish there were more to pack."

So that those left behind in the mansion could remember him. Ian smiled and adjusted his clothes. The shirt alone was worth more than two gold coins. The intricate white embroidery and gold leaf made Ian appear as a precious 'thing'.

"Where is Father?"

"He just had a coughing fit. He asked to be brought to the dining room."

"Alright. Let's go."

Ian was about to leave the room, passing Hannah, but he turned back and quietly advised her.

"Hannah. If possible, I want you to quit working at the mansion after I leave."

"What? What do you mean...?"

"It will be difficult, but it will be beneficial for you. Tell the others as well. Of course, do not let the Count, no, the Count must not know."

Hannah looked at him questioningly, but Ian simply turned and walked away without answering. Beyond this, Hannah's choice was important.

In the dining room, Derga, Lady Mary, and Chel were already seated, perfectly dressed.

"Sit."

"Yes, Father."

This was their last meal together. However, the atmosphere was no different from usual. To them, Ian was never truly a part of the family.

"You have memorized the order of the treaty ceremony, I presume?"

"There will be no problems."

"Always remember why you are alive."

"Of course. For the honor and glory of Bratz."

Ian seemed to be in a better mood than usual. How could he be so relaxed when his head could roll any moment after crossing the border?

"When I return for my next birthday—"

He said, slicing a piece of meat and putting it in his mouth.

If he survived, Ian would be granted a short return on his birthday. Derga paused, stopping his chewing.

"—may I see Mother?"

"...Ian."

"I am going far away, and I did not get to see Moulin before she left, nor Mother."

Moulin had hurriedly packed her bags and headed to the capital the morning after the Cheonryeo tribe left the Bratz mansion. The deal with Ian was progressing smoothly and was in its final stages, so there was no need for farewells.

Their carriage was probably still racing across the plains. The round trip took a month. They would return around the time Ian returned from the Great Desert.

"Hmm. Your mother."

Derga muttered, stroking his beard. He was clearly referring to the message to smuggle in Gurus leaves, pretending it was a request from his mother. Lady Mary's eyes narrowed fiercely, but Derga ignored her.

"Alright. I will allow you to see her at least once then."

"Thank you."

Does Ian not know yet? That his mother, Philia, had disappeared without a trace? Some said she ran off with the stableman next door, while others claimed she was sold off to cover her gambling debts.

"Count, the carriage is ready."

Just as the meal was drawing to a close, the butler announced that everything was ready. The Count stood up, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Let's go."

Led by Derga, everyone exited the main building. A small number of armed soldiers and knights stood proudly before them. It was the first time Ian had seen them since he arrived.

'One, two, three... ten in total.'

Just then, Hannah and the other servants rushed to Ian, their eyes filled with tears. They held his hands tightly, unable to hide their sorrow.

"Please, please come back alive."

"We will make you something delicious on your birthday."

"Lord Ian, please be safe."

In the past few months, he had formed a deeper bond with them than with Derga's family. Ian simply smiled, not giving a specific answer. As Hannah's sobs grew louder, the Count snapped.

"Crying on such an auspicious day! Butler!"

"I apologize, Count. I will take care of it."

"Let's depart at once!"

However, most of the mansion's servants were surrounding Ian, making it difficult to single anyone out for punishment. Ian held Hannah's hand tightly and said his farewell.

"Thank you for everything, Hannah."

"Young master! Sob..."

"See you again."

See you again. At these words promising a future, Hannah wiped her tears with her palm. Under Derga's fierce gaze, Ian got into the carriage without further delay. Derga grumbled continuously, clearly displeased with the atmosphere of the mansion.

"Giddy up!"

Hee-haw!

With the crack of the coachman's whip, the mansion receded into the distance. The scenery of Bratz flashed past the palm-sized window. Ian glanced at Derga. The seal must be in his possession.

'I heard the aide still hasn't woken up.'

It had been over a week since he fell unconscious. It was safe to assume that the chances of him waking up were slim. Even if he did, Ian would be in the desert.

Clatter, clatter!

After about three or four hours of travel, the once-green land turned desolate. They had reached the edge of the Great Desert.

"We have arrived, Count."

Whoosh.

As the door opened, the coachman's voice was carried away by the harsh wind. A blue sky and golden sand dunes. In the distance stood dozens of Kushiles and their masters, the Cheonryeo tribe.

"There..."

Two huge rocks marking the border were placed there. Derga and his party passed between them and approached the Cheonryeo tribe.

'I've crossed the border.'

Good heavens. Had he ever crossed a border in his life for something other than war? Ian tried to hide his excitement.

Nearby was a small temple built of white stone. Devoid of any decorations, it existed simply as a space. The marks of time, carved by wind and sand, were evident.

"Welcome, friends."

The voice was low yet powerful. No one had to say he was the chief for Ian to instinctively know. The absolute superiority of power. The aura of a man who possessed it was as great and heavy as nature itself.

"I am Kakantir, chief of the Cheonryeo tribe of the Great Desert."

"I am Derga Bratz, Count of the Bariel Empire."

The two slowly clasped hands. Following them, their wives and children also exchanged greetings. The main figures sat around a table in the temple, while their respective soldiers stood under the sun, watching each other.

"First, we express our gratitude for your generosity."

"Is this not a place to promise that your difficulties are our difficulties? Do not worry."

Back and forth, Derga's tongue moved as if it were oiled, as befitting an official occasion. Kakantir's gaze landed on Ian.

"This is Bratz's gift."

"It is an honor to meet you."

"...The agreement."

Derga hurriedly gave the order. The parchment of the agreement, written identically by both parties, was placed on the table. It detailed the prohibited clauses, the items to be traded, and Ian's circumstances.

'When the Cheonryeo receive the token of friendship from Bratz, they will send their token in return within three years... From the moment the treaty is signed, Cheonryeo and Bratz will not invade each other's territory...'

The document spanned over ten pages. Derga carefully reviewed the document and nodded.

"I have confirmed it. While the seal is melting, let us proceed with the verification."

"Very well. However..."

Bratz had prepared a kinship potion. As far as they knew, it was the most reliable way to confirm that they were of Derga's bloodline. Though it might not hold the same meaning for the Cheonryeo tribe.

"Chieftain Winchen was unable to accompany us due to his health. We will conduct our verification upon our return."

"As you wish. However, the imperial confirmation of your status has not yet arrived from the palace. I will send it as soon as it arrives."

Derga dropped his blood into the potion. Ian did the same. The transparent liquid turned blue. The people from Bratz looked at them, wondering if they would acknowledge it, but the Cheonryeo tribe seemed indifferent.

"Then let us proceed with the handwriting verification."

Ian took the pen in front of him. He then painstakingly wrote the contents of the letter he had sent earlier, his handwriting clumsy and barely legible for such an official setting.

"Is it confirmed?"

"Nersaren."

The chief nodded and called his brother, who was standing behind him. He approached with his waist bent and presented a dagger. Without hesitation, he drew blood by cutting his palm.

Slash!

Blood dripped from the blade. Kakantir signed the agreement with his blood. Derga's face turned pale as he watched.

'Savages, the lot of them.'

Why draw blood when you can just use a seal!

The Count stamped his seal and waited for the wax to dry. The two exchanged documents and clasped hands once more.

"To the eternal glory of Bratz."

"Demosha, Gurun Tu (Happiness under God's blessing)."

And with that, they concluded the simple treaty ceremony, wishing each other good fortune. As the people emerged from the temple, the soldiers relaxed their guard.

"Then, farewell."

Ian looked at Derga. They would now return in their carriage, but Ian had to cross the desert with the Cheonryeo tribe. Derga gave Ian a perfunctory hug.

"Ian. Take care."

"Yes, Father."

The hand that gripped his shoulder was rough, but Ian reciprocated in kind. Derga and his party turned back without a second glance and headed back to the border rocks.

"Ian."

It was Soo. She looked down at the remaining luggage with her arms crossed. Kakantir, Nersaren, and a few warriors were discussing something while looking at the sky.

"Is this really it?"

"Why? Is something missing?"

"No, it's not that, but..."

"I'm just kidding. It hasn't all arrived yet. Ah, there it comes."

No sooner had Ian finished speaking than someone came running from the direction Derga had disappeared.

Through the rough, dusty sandstorm, a figure with red hair could be seen. He dismounted from his horse and ran through the sinking desert. When the horse tried to follow, he kicked its hindquarters to send it back.

"Just in time."

"Ian, are you ready to depart!"

At Nersaren's shout, Soo took Ian's luggage. She easily lifted what two soldiers had carried together.

"Yes, I am ready."

"Chief, this is the one I told you about. The one we'll use as our slave!"

Soo said, grinding her teeth and addressing the chief. He chuckled and stroked Soo's head, then turned to Ian. He had heard that the chief was barbaric and quite violent...

'He doesn't seem so bad.'

It was probably just a monstrous image created by the people of the Bratz estate. To Ian, he seemed like a reliable leader of a small tribe, nothing more. Well, he would have to get to know him better to be sure.

"We must hurry, so make preparations. If we are not careful, we might encounter a sandstorm."

From here to the Great Desert, their main encampment, was another several days' journey. Encountering a sandstorm could result in a loss of manpower and a prolonged journey.

"Iaaaan-!"

In the distance, Beric shouted. Kakantir gave two Kushiles to Ian and turned away without a word.