Chapter 65. Gathering in the Heart

"Oh my, what in the world is this?"

"Did a riot break out in the middle of the night?"

"What for? Who did it?"

"Lord Ian was attacked on his way back to the mansion."

"What?! How did it happen?"

"Isn't that what they're investigating now? He was distributing gula when something unexpected happened."

"Lord Ian? Is one of those bodies Lord Ian?"

As dawn broke, everyone learned about the events of the early morning. With the pile of bodies blocking the alley, it was impossible to keep it a secret. The blood flowing onto the main street was another matter entirely.

While the guards lined up the bodies to identify them, people stood back and whispered among themselves.

Meanwhile, the mansion was also in a state of chaos, especially the basement of the main building.

"Aaaah!"

Two of the attackers survived.

One was identified as 'Petraio,' and the other was an unknown man. Among them, Petraio, who had a gag in his mouth, was screaming. He was drenched in sweat, tears, and blood.

"Do you know how terrible you look right now?"

"Ugh..."

"If this continues, you'll die. If we can confirm your identity, I'll have a doctor treat you."

In fact, a doctor had already visited while he was unconscious. However, due to the bizarre and severe nature of his injuries, the doctor diagnosed that he wouldn't last more than four days. Beric pressed a cloth against his face, showing his frustration.

"Stop making so much noise!"

"Aaaah!"

"Stop screaming! Damn it, if someone sees this, they'll think I'm torturing you!"

While they had him tied to a chair and gagged, what they were doing was closer to nursing than torture. They cleaned the filth with lukewarm water, but the pain was intense due to the skin that had peeled off.

"Ugh..."

"Beric. That's enough. Strip him completely."

"Completely? All of it?"

"Leave not a single piece of cloth."

"Ugh."

Beric, though reluctant, followed Ian's orders.

Petraio had a military background. While it wasn't clear exactly what he did, he definitely worked under the palace's discipline. Judging by his age, he had participated in many battles, large and small. In such cases, it was common to have one's identity marked on the body, in case they were torn apart on the battlefield and needed to be returned to their homeland.

"Huh? Is this it?"

Beric discovered a tattoo on Petraio's left side as he removed his shirt. However, it had been deliberately damaged, the flesh scratched away. It was a very thorough preparation.

"Tsk tsk."

Ian leaned in to examine the wound, then met his eyes. Even with his stomach pierced and face melting, his eyes still shone. People like this rarely spoke easily. Molin would know this very well.

"I don't want to torture someone who's about to die."

"..."

"But a true warrior never forgets revenge. I hope you have no one precious to you. Those who bear the name Petraio will meet the same fate as you."

It was a calm but extremely cruel statement. While he didn't really intend to do it, he said it to exploit Petraio's weakness. As expected, he showed no reaction.

"...Keep watching."

"Okay. Phew. The smell of blood is awful. Really."

Ian had no choice but to leave the cleanup to Beric and escape through the basement corridor.

Creak.

"...Aaaah!"

Petraio's scream escaped through the closing door and abruptly stopped. As Ian moved to the other end of the corridor, he heard someone tumbling down the stairs.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

"I, I, Ian!"

"Oh. Lord Romandor. You're awake."

"Th-this! This! Oh my..."

He rushed over in a rather light outfit. Grabbing Ian's shoulders and scanning him up and down, he seemed surprised by how unharmed he was.

"T-they said more than a dozen men died..."

"As you can see, I'm fine."

"Indeed, indeed, a mana user is different! Indeed!"

"Please calm down."

If Beric had heard this, he would have been astonished. He fought to the death, yet Ian received such praise.

"Petraio conspired and carried out the attack. He seems to be one of Molin's subordinates. When we caught him, he used poison to disfigure his face, making identification impossible. The investigation is ongoing, but he keeps mentioning strange names."

"M-Molin's group?"

"There's not much difference with them either."

In response to Romandor's question, Ian nodded toward the room at the end of the corridor, where Molin and two other men were being held.

"What do you plan to do now?"

Romandor paced in front of Ian, clearly at a loss for what to do. Even if it was true that Molin tried to kill Ian, there wouldn't be much trouble for him by custom. Molin was an administrative officer of the palace, and Ian was a commoner stationed in the Great Desert. While Ian was a mana user and the head of the mansion, he held no official position.

"Will you kill them?"

"No. I don't want any more investigation teams from the palace."

If Ian killed Molin, the palace would send more people. If he was unlucky, Gail might even send an army to execute him.

"Then what?"

"It's not my decision to make."

"...Huh?"

"Didn't I say I would prove it? Please send a message to His Highness Marib. I will follow."

Proving he wasn't on Gail's side was the cleanest and safest way. While he could guess the situation in the palace, it was just a guess. He couldn't be sure what the consequences of Molin's death would be, so he was passing the responsibility to Marib.

"Then until the reply comes..."

"Leave them be. That's fine."

"Understood. I'll send a messenger bird right away."

"Ah, wait. Lord Romandor."

He grabbed Romandor, who was about to rush up the stairs. Ian handed him a ring wrapped in cloth. It was a simple silver ring with a small needle inside, which had turned black from poison.

"Have you heard of this? When you stab it, the face melts away."

"Hmm. Let me see..."

Romandor leaned back and narrowed his eyes.

"Are you planning to use it again?"

"Can it be used?"

"Well, you'd need a technician to replace the needle, but it's not completely unusable. The poison is probably Tevarphin, used by assassins to hide their identity or by human traffickers in their crimes... That's what it is."

It was a toxic substance used in crimes where the victim's identity must remain hidden, such as human trafficking or organ trafficking. It was shocking to Ian, as it wasn't used in his time.

"Such a thing exists?"

"You might not know, why are you so surprised?"

They used such potent poisons 100 years ago. Ian felt a chill run down his spine. How many crimes had been committed and covered up due to the destruction of bodies?

It was a poison that wasn't even recognized in Ian's time. It must have been banned for some reason, but he couldn't determine the exact cause.

Romandor glanced at Ian, then said he would write the letter and went upstairs.

"I'll send it as soon as possible."

"Yes, thank you. I'll see you later."

Ian wrapped the ring in cloth again and put it in his inner pocket. Then he approached the room at the end of the corridor where Molin and his group were being held.

"Was there any commotion inside?"

"No, there wasn't."

"Open the door."

Click.

The doorman unlocked the large lock at Ian's command. A wooden bowl was placed on the floor, like feeding an animal.

The sound of the door opening made them react instinctively.

"Ian, you bastard!"

But they were quickly restrained by the guards. Ian placed the overturned bowl on the table and asked.

"Did you get some sleep?"

"You lowborn, how dare you! Do you know who we are? Open the door immediately! If you don't, I'll kill you! The palace won't let you off!"

This time, Degor also showed signs of excitement, ready to grab him by the collar and start arguing.

"We are here on the palace's orders! Treating us like this is an insult to the center! Act like you're on the border! You Thousanders! Act properly! Ian is a Thousanders, as you all know! Treating a palace administrative officer like this, what does it mean?"

"That's why you're still alive, isn't it?"

"What, what do you mean?"

"If it weren't for the palace flag, you'd be in Petraio's place, not eating."

Ian said this and took out the ring. Holding the ring part with the cloth, he brought the needle close to Mac's face. Mac instinctively pulled back, knowing what it was.

"Petraio!"

"The investigation is ongoing. Even if his face is necrotic, he still exists. And haven't you heard already?"

The red brooch Beric showed. Their conversation had been recorded. However, Molin's group was not intimidated. They boldly shouted, claiming injustice.

"We don't know anything! If you're so confident, hold a formal trial! What kind of process is this? A nameless person like you..."

"Even the territory has lost its name. How can a person keep it? Degor, this is the border. Not the