A Mage Reborn: Legacy of the Fallen Emperor

Hannah returned with a tray of dried fruits. Sensing a hidden motive behind her summons, she clasped her hands and looked at Ian. He remained engrossed in the vibrant scene outside the window.

"Do you need anything else, Master Ian?"

"Hannah, how are your siblings doing?"

Since they'd started dining in the dining hall, leftovers had become plentiful, enough to line the pockets of not only Hannah but the other kitchen staff as well.

"They're doing very well, thanks to you. Though they're always running around, full of energy."

The girl smiled wholeheartedly. With full bellies came constant laughter, and the bonds within their family grew stronger each day. All thanks to Ian. The servants knew he ate less to leave more for them.

"I'm glad to hear that."

"You have something for me to do, don't you?"

Hannah took a step closer to Ian, careful not to make a sound. He continued to speak, his back still turned.

"Hannah, I have a message for Mother."

Ian continued channeling mana into his brooch, ensuring their conversation remained private from Derga. Both children were, publicly and practically, illiterate, leaving him no other option.

"Yes, Master Ian."

Finally, a chance to repay his kindness!

Hannah bit her lip expectantly. The window shimmered briefly, but she dismissed it as a trick of the sunlight.

"Tell Mother to meet Portroga at the 3rd District park, near the lake, tomorrow at noon. She must be disguised."

"Is that all I need to tell her?"

"…And that she received the pouch safely."

This would likely be their first contact. It would be problematic if his mother, mistaking it for a trap by Derga, didn't show. Hannah committed the brief message to memory.

"Yes, I won't make any mistakes."

"I'm sorry. I promised I wouldn't send you on such errands, but this is urgent."

It had to be tomorrow. There was no time for other methods. Hannah nodded resolutely, then stepped back.

"Then I'll take my leave."

"Take the snacks. Consider it payment."

"Thank you, Master Ian!"

Even as Hannah pocketed the dried fruit, Ian didn't turn.

What could be so captivating outside the window? The girl pictured the view and then smiled knowingly. From here, only the main house and the soldiers' quarters were visible.

"Master Theo said he'll be accompanying you and Master Chel tomorrow."

"Theo?"

Ian's head turned slightly, but not enough to reveal his eyes. Hannah, pleased with the weight of her now-full pockets, replied.

"Yes. It seems tonight's night training is scheduled, so Master Theo is the only one available. His left arm is still bothering him, but he said it wouldn't be a problem to escort you both."

"What happened to his arm?"

"Oh, you didn't know? He got drunk two weeks ago and broke it. He claims he fought some ruffians, but everyone knows he actually fought a tavern wall. It's not even the first time."

Hannah giggled, finding the story amusing. Ian smiled faintly, but he recognized that this Theo was no ordinary man.

He hasn't been fired after such behavior? And he's still entrusted with guarding the two sons despite his injury?

This meant Theo held Derga's trust and was highly skilled. Ian lightly traced a finger on the windowpane and nodded.

"I see. I'll keep that in mind."

"Yes. Please call me if you need anything else."

Click.

The girl left the room with a light step. Only then did Ian turn, withdrawing his mana. His golden eyes returned to their absinthe hue as the brooch's light faded.

Theo, huh?

Chel was practically inconsequential, but this Theo could prove to be a wildcard. Ian sat on the sofa, toying with the pouch his mother had given him.

A week and a day.

That's how long it took for Ian to leave the Bratz estate. The carriage Molin had sent arrived precisely at noon, awaiting the two boys.

"Master Chel. Master Ian. This way."

And then there was Theo. The network of scars crisscrossing his face hinted at his temperament. His sheer size made Ian wonder if he'd even fit inside the carriage.

Whether intentional or not, he addressed the two boys with subtly different titles.

"Are you riding with us?"

"Yes, is there a problem?"

Our knees will be touching if we sit facing each other…

Ian shot Theo a disapproving look before boarding the carriage. He couldn't shake the feeling that the horses were straining under the added weight.

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

Only the rhythmic sound of hooves filled the air. Chel and Ian stared out opposite windows, lost in their own thoughts. Chel felt like he was being led to the slaughterhouse, preferring school to this. Ian, however, was captivated.

Interesting.

Perhaps because they were in the border region, not far from the desert, the scenery was strikingly different. He'd spent most of his life in the capital, and the wars he'd fought were on the opposite side of the continent. Unlike other nobles, he'd never taken leisurely trips.

So this is what Variel has to offer. It felt less like a different part of his country and more like a foreign land. A century's worth of change likely contributed to this feeling.

"Do you know any worthwhile places in Portroga?"

After a long period of observation, Ian finally spoke. Chel turned at the unexpected question, while Theo simply blinked.

"The administrator asked me to give you a tour, so I should at least make an effort. But as you know, I'm not familiar with this area."

He'd been a boy from the slums, preoccupied with survival.

"Isn't that right, brother? I don't think a tour of my old neighborhood would be appropriate."

"…R-right."

Even if visitors were curious, he couldn't actually show them that place. It was a red-light district, after all. It would be ludicrous for the sons of a Count to take guests there.

Theo scratched his nose, looking uncomfortable.

"Well, there are plenty of taverns, but I'm not sure about places suitable for officials from the central government. The places I frequent are always…rowdy."

"…Are you forgetting that I'm underage?"

"Well, you know what I mean."

Despite Ian's rebuke, Theo simply grinned shamelessly, a foul odor seemingly emanating from his blackened teeth.

This man is unsettling.

It wasn't just his hygiene. His habit of constantly fiddling with the hilt of his dagger and his shifty eyes made him seem less than human.

"Forget it. I suppose we'll have to stick to the park."

This was Ian's intention all along – laying the groundwork. He was anticipating Theo's report to the Count. He was meeting his mother at the park, so everything had to appear natural and seamless.

"We've arrived."

"Please disembark, young masters."

The carriage slowed to a stop, and the coachman opened the door.

Portroga was undoubtedly an upper-class residential area. Even disregarding the well-maintained cobblestone streets and trees, the "Hyman Bank" standing prominently on the main street was proof enough.

It was the third sanctuary, responsible for Variel's entire financial infrastructure. Every territory had at least one branch. Without them, they'd have to transport massive amounts of tax revenue by carriage.

Thump!

The carriage lurched as Theo finally stepped out. Mac approached them with a welcoming smile.

"Oh! Master Ian!"

"Sir Mac. Thank you for coming to meet us."

"Don't mention it. It's a pleasure to see you outside the estate. Ah, Master Chel as well. You must be tired from your journey."

While greeting Ian and Chel, Mac glanced at the guard behind them. A sense of wariness lurked beneath his smile. Theo, however, simply picked at his ear, unfazed.

"Welcome."

They seemed to occupy the entire building. It wasn't as grand as Derga's mansion, but the luxurious interior, finished with high-quality materials, exuded an air of old-world elegance.

"Is this the official residence?"

"Yes. It's used when officials are dispatched from the capital. It's comfortable and convenient, so I feel quite at home here."

Inside, everything was prepared. Trays laden with food and decanters of wine awaited them. It was not much different from luncheon at the Bratz estate.

"Is your guard joining us for the meal?"

"Is there a problem with that?"

Mac posed the question, standing by the dining room door. Theo raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. It was quite rude, but Mac simply crossed his arms, contemplating how to get rid of him.

"Please, enjoy your meal and scholarly discussion. I'll just stay in the corner."

At Theo's words, Ian turned and looked up at Mac. He subtly twitched his eyebrows, sending a silent signal.

"He came with us from the estate, so we can't have him just watching us eat. Could we perhaps have another place setting and a wine glass?"

Ian deliberately emphasized the word "wine." A man who lived by the sword and repeatedly broke his arm due to drunkenness was surely someone who couldn't live without alcohol.

Mac hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"…We didn't prepare any wine."

Both invited guests were children. It was unlikely they would have wine at a luncheon without Derga or Lady Mary present. Ian surely knew this…

"Do you enjoy a drink?" he asked Theo.

"What? Well, I wouldn't say no."

"Then come with me to the cellar. We have a wine cellar there. You can choose whatever you like. Although unexpected, you are our guest."

Is this the right course of action? Mac glanced at Ian, trailing off. It was perfect communication. The boy smiled faintly, and Mac, catching on, encouraged Theo.

"We have quite a selection."

"Is it just downstairs?"

"In the building's basement."

Theo sniffed and looked down at Chel and Ian. They were inside the building, so there was no danger. As long as Chel and Ian stayed together, a brief absence wouldn't be an issue. Besides, it was the official residence's wine cellar! It would be filled with liquors he'd never even seen before.

"Well then, I won't refuse."

"Wait a moment. Drogor!"

Mac opened the dining room door and called for Drogor. He whispered something to him, then instructed Theo to follow.

"Young masters, please come in."

Drogor took over Mac's role and led the guests inside. Molin's gaze was as gentle as ever.

"Please, have a seat. I hope the food is to your liking."

It felt like yesterday's scene in Derga's backyard, simply relocated. They exchanged the same pleasantries as before and began their meal.

"Oh, Master Chel, I hear your school is nearby?"

"Yes, it's about a ten-minute carriage ride."

The only difference was the target of their attention. Both men conspicuously showered Chel with interest. Ian knew it was a clumsy ruse, but it might actually work on Chel.

'Father, they barely spoke to Ian. They didn't seem to have any other intentions. And the conversation we had today was…'

Derga had ordered him to report every single word, so Chel was likely struggling to memorize their conversation. Ian chuckled, imagining Chel's obliviousness. Derga would check the brooch anyway.

Now, when will they make their move?

Ian remained silent, chewing his food. He was just as curious as Derga. What was their true motive for bringing him out here? He had his suspicions, but they were just that – suspicions.

"Ah!"

Splash!

Drogor spilled the water pitcher. Directly onto Chel's trousers. A classic, albeit effective, tactic. Ian knew this was the signal.

"Oh dear! Are you alright?"

"Uh, yes…"

Chel's face flushed crimson. His thighs were soaked, as if he'd wet himself. Ian continued eating placidly, predicting Drogor's next line.

'Would you like to change your clothes?'

"You'll need to change."

"I-it's fine."

"Just a moment. I'll send a servant to fetch you some suitable clothes. There's a decent clothing store right next door."

Chew, chew. Ian continued his meal with an indifferent expression, as if he'd expected this.

"Why don't you go yourself, brother? You don't know his size, do you?"

Surely, if they sent a servant, he would return and say that Chel needed to go himself. It was predictable. Molin took a sip of water and looked at Ian.

"Isn't that right, Sir Molin?"

So let's stop wasting time and get to the real conversation. The boy knew how to speak with his eyes.