Chapter 33: The Imperial Investigation Unit

The necklace seemed to drink in the sunlight. "Amber," was the only word Ian could conjure to describe it, yet it felt inadequate. Even he, surrounded by treasures his entire life, had never laid eyes on a gem quite like this.

'Ian... what in the hells is this thing?'

Why would the bastard child of a brothel whore be raising a Silask, and one that held such an object within it? No. To start at the beginning, perhaps Ian didn't know.

'His social standing aside, his actions don't add up. Knowing his mother, Philia's, struggles, he would have sold it off to support the family if he knew its value.'

And more than anything, the necklace had been hidden in the dirt. It was obvious that whoever planted the Silask had buried it there.

'Did someone ask him to take care of it? To look after it well?'

It was the only plausible theory at the moment. That would explain it, wouldn't it? He treated it with care but didn't bother to take it when he came to the Bratz estate.

Clink.

"I can't make heads or tails of it. Truly."

The most perplexing thing since he'd opened his eyes was Ian himself. This small child was the only one who constantly threw him into a spiral of confusion.

"What can't you figure out?"

"Did you get smashed?"

"Smashed? Who got smashed?! It was a draw!"

"Uh-huh. Sure."

Ian put on the necklace as he replied. Whatever it was, now that he'd found it, he had no intention of letting it leave his person. The Tenebris warrior who had brought the flowerpot added:

"Also, after you rest, the Chieftain wishes to see you."

"Oh? Then I'll go now. Since he's been utterly smashed."

"I wasn't smashed! I didn't get smashed!"

"Wipe the sand from your mouth before you speak, Berik."

Chuckling, Ian left the tent. Since Wintzen had regained consciousness, they likely wanted to confirm whether Ian had been truthful. And, more importantly, they needed to finalize the details of the priority negotiation rights between the Tenebris and Ian.

"...?"

"Uh!"

Ian, who had been pushing aside the tent flap, froze. The entrance was crowded with Tenebris warriors. Berik, who had been following him, also poked his head out and looked around.

After an awkward silence, they placed the items they were carrying on the ground. Soft Cushile covers, sturdy baskets, and other items that would improve their quality of life.

"What is all this?"

"...Things needed to survive in the desert. We brought them. It's nothing compared to what you gave up for Chieftain Wintzen, but the Tenebris warriors never forget a kindness or a grudge until the day they die."

It seemed they had been ordered to treat Ian as a guest, as this was the first time he had heard them use honorifics. He smiled and nodded.

"Thank you. I'll make good use of them."

"Th-then..."

They scattered, flustered and embarrassed, and Ian couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Aren't they cute? Even those who the world considers savages have a heart when you look closely. They are human, after all."

"Look who's talking, Mr. Saint."

"Berik, you organize these things until I get back."

Damn it! Berik, cursing the word 'saint', was left behind as Ian headed for Wintzen's tent. Inside, the old woman lay in a state not much different from the first day.

Shaa-!

Kakantir was kneeling close to her, whispering something. Seeing it like this, the old woman's status was truly felt. The leader of the tribe was kneeling without hesitation before this person.

"Chieftain Wintzen. I'm truly glad you've recovered."

The old woman smiled faintly and looked towards the entrance. The smile of a sage who had visited the threshold of death brought peace just by looking at it.

"I called you here to conclude our previous conversation."

"Very well. Everything I told Chieftain Kakantir is true, and I swear on the heavens that I will uphold it. Of course, there are a few things I haven't told you yet, but they are unrelated to the Tenebris."

Ian smiled and took the initiative. His easygoing attitude brought a satisfied look to Kakantir's face. Wintzen clasped her hands together and greeted Ian again.

"The God..."

Her voice was a strained whisper. Her condition was so poor that he thought she wouldn't speak again. The attendants strained their ears not to miss the old woman's message.

"...has commanded that you change everything."

"Pardon?"

"...Even if it is your very existence."

Ian turned to Kakantir, surprised. Wintzen was delivering a divine revelation. Hearing the words of a god outside a temple was unheard of, but Kakantir nodded as if accustomed to it.

"The Imperials wouldn't understand. You believe you can only discern the will of the gods within your holy temples."

"That is true. We believe that only those who can interpret the holy texts can convey the will of the gods."

The Papacy would probably call this heresy. Regardless, Ian bowed his head in gratitude for receiving the words of a god.

"However, the message isn't exactly pleasant."

"How could that be? They are always meaningful words."

Ian immediately denied it. Just because humans are ignorant doesn't mean the truth disappears. Kakantir realized he was growing increasingly fond of this golden-haired outsider. As a warrior, he possessed everything.

'He is bold, courageous, and as calm as a deep, flowing river.'

"I heard that my brethren brought you gifts."

"Yes, I received them gratefully."

"We will now discuss the details of the priority negotiation rights, but before that, if there is anything you need in particular, speak now."

This was a roundabout way of saying that once negotiations began, he wouldn't yield even the slightest thing. But at the same time, it was a considerably generous offer. Ian thought for a moment before answering.

"The Tenebris are a tribe of warriors, are they not?"

"That's right. They are the rulers of the Great Desert."

"I would like you to impart all the knowledge of a warrior to the red-haired one I brought with me. He wants to believe he is the strongest in the world, but he still has much to learn."

"You mean Berik?"

Cherishing one's subordinates is a virtue of a leader. Since it wasn't a difficult request, Kakantir readily agreed.

"I will see to it."

"Thank you."

"Bring paper."

Shaa-!

At Kakantir's call, attendants brought paper and a brush from outside. With Wintzen between them, they began to create a true contract.

Thump! Thump-thump! Bang!

The sudden noise caused Derga's pen to slip. He had almost finished writing, and now he had to start over.

"Count! Count!"

"Where's all this racket coming from?!"

Fwoosh!

As soon as the door opened, Derga reflexively threw the ink bottle. The sky wasn't falling, so why was he acting like this! He was already having a headache over these tax calculations!

The servant, hit directly by the bottle, wiped his pants in a panic.

"S-sorry. But you need to come out right now. Someone has come down from the capital."

It was to be expected since the confirmation of enlistment was due to arrive. But the servant's behavior was strange. Derga hid behind the curtain and looked out the window.

"...?!"

Normally, if it were just a document delivery, two people would have come. But there were carriages lined up from the main gate to the front door, and at the forefront, a familiar flag fluttered.

"Isn't that the Imperial Investigation Unit?"

"The butler is currently receiving the guests, but..."

Something felt wrong. Derga gathered the documents on his desk and shouted.

"You, immediately move all the documents here to the aide's office! And wait inside with the door locked. There are plenty of ink bottles in the left cabinet. If things seem off, pour them all out. Do you understand?"

"Huh? Y-yes. I understand."

"Damn it!"

Derga gave firm instructions and went down the stairs. All the servants were gathered at the main entrance, looking anxious.

"M-master. What is the meaning of this..."

"Out of my way!"

He adjusted his clothes and stepped forward. The butler stepped back with a troubled look, and Derga faced the head of the Imperial Investigation Unit.

"Are you Count Derga Bratz?"

"I am. What is the meaning of this?"

"I am Bertie Erika, the head of the Imperial Investigation Unit dispatched from the Imperial Palace. This is the authorization personally sealed by His Majesty the Emperor. We are dispatched to investigate treason due to tax evasion, and we swear to a faithful and truthful process."

Treason due to tax evasion.

As soon as he heard the reason for their dispatch, Derga felt his heart drop. How did these bastards find out? How? But his words were brazen and bold.

"This is outrageous. I am protecting the frontier from those savages out of my loyalty to Bariel! And now you say what? Treason due to tax evasion? It's absurd!"

Deny it first. Until the crime is confirmed. Derga was still a Count, and this was his territory. A dozen or so carriages had come, but in terms of power, he had the upper hand.

Erika calmly took out another document from his other pocket.

"Is this the Bratz seal?"

The pattern of a tiger and laurel. It was clearly stamped on top of someone's scrawled signature.

I report the tax evasion of the Bratz family. Your Majesty, please investigate without a single doubt.

When Derga tried to grab the letter, Erika firmly pushed his hand away. A report, and one with a seal at that, meant they could ransack the mansion right now, and he couldn't say a word.

"We will be managing the mansion for the time being. All servants, including the Count, are to follow the instructions of the vice-captain. Infantry will be arriving soon, so please clear the garden for them."

It was a warning not to do anything rash, as additional forces would be arriving soon. At Erika's signal, his subordinates entered the mansion with swords drawn.

Thump-thump! Thump!

"Kyaaak!"

"W-wait a minute!"

"Everyone shut up and follow!"

"M-master! Master!"

"You there! The one going up the stairs!"

"Aaaahhh!"

They couldn't tie up a nobleman like the Count, so they were subduing his hands and feet, the servants, first. Erika stepped in, crushing the carpet under his boots.

"Quite a magnificent mansion."

"You..."

"Young Master Chel and Lady Mary will also be returning soon. There is nothing to worry about, so just follow the instructions and remain calm. Everyone, sweep from the top floor down!"

At Erika's shout, Derga's head rang. These guys knew the office was at the top, didn't they? That information wasn't in the report. That meant they didn't just send up the paper.

'Molin!'

That son of a bitch, he fed him meat and treated him well, and this is what he does...! Derga's face turned red as if the blood was rushing to his head. Erika smiled faintly and passed him, and all that could be heard were the screams of the servants.

"Count!"

The one who had run upstairs was apparently the butler. He was dragged down, but Derga was lost in thought and didn't move.

'Molin, how did that bastard get the seal? Was he involved with the aide? But he hasn't woken up yet. He's still being watched...'

Derga let out an absurd laugh. If there was one person in Bratz who was close to Molin...

"Iaaaaan!"

At the outburst, the soldiers glanced at him but didn't stop him. He looked like he was about to collapse from high blood pressure any minute. If he was going to die anyway, dying early wouldn't be such a bad choice.