Chapter 33

Chapter 33

The necklace was imbued with sunlight. Other than describing it as pumpkin-colored, Ian couldnt define it in any way. Even for Ian, who had spent his entire life surrounded by treasures, this was a gem he had never seen before.

Ian, what on Earth is this?1

Why was a bast*rd from the red-light district raising Silasque, and keeping something like this inside it? No, if we build our assumptions from the beginning, Ian might not have known about it.

Not only his status, but this guys behavior is odd, isnt it? Knowing the hardships of his mother Philea, if he knew it was valuable, he would have sold it to help the family.

And above all, the necklace hidden in the soil. It was clear that whoever planted the Silasque had buried it.

Did he receive a request from someone? To take good care of this?

Right now, that was the only plausible speculation. If so, wouldnt it make some sense? The original Ian took care of it preciously, but it wasnt something to bring when entering the Bratz mansion.

Jingle

I cant figure it out. Really.

Opening his eyes, the most puzzling thing was his own existence as Ian. As always, the only thing that perplexed him was this little child.

What cant you figure out?

Did it break?

Who broke it! It just rattled!

Oh, I see, Ian responded while wearing the necklace. While he didnt know what it was, since he found it, he had no intention of letting it leave his body. The nameless Cheonrye tribe member, who brought the pot, added a comment.

And after you rest, the tribal chief wants to see you.

Really? Then lets go now. Its all broken anyway.

It didnt break! I didnt break it!

Wipe the sand from your mouth and talk. Beric.

Ian left the tent, giggling. Since Winchen had regained consciousness, that persons purpose must have been to verify if Ians words were false. And more than anything, the detailed adjustment of the pre-negotiation rights between the Cheonrye tribe and Ian was needed.

?

Oh!

Ian, who was walking away, stopped in his tracks. Before his eyes, all the Cheonrye tribe members were gathered at the entrance. Beric, who followed him, also peeked around.

After an awkward silence, they placed down what they were holding. From the soft Kusilres covers to the sturdy basket, etc. These were items that enriched life.

What are all these?

Things necessary to survive in the desert. Weve prepared them. Compared to what was given to Chief Winchen, these are trivial, but we, the Cheonrye warriors, never forget favors owed or enmity until death.

Perhaps there was an order to treat Ian as a guest, but this was the first time he was addressed with an honorific. Ian smiled and nodded.

Thank you. I will use them well.

S-sure.

They scattered, as if embarrassed, and Ian couldnt help but laugh.

Whats so funny?

Arent they cute? Although the world regards them as barbaric, when looked at closely, they have integrity. So, theyre humans too.

Acting like a gentleman.

Beric, organize these things until I come back.

Darn it!

Ian, revoking Berics comment of him being a gentleman, looked for Winchens tent, leaving Beric hopping in anger. Inside, the old woman was lying, looking no different from the first day.

Swoosh-!

Sir Ian, welcome.

Kakantir was kneeling beside her, whispering something. Seeing them like this, Seeing her like this, it was clear that the elder held a significant status. Someone who could make the chieftain of the tribe kneel without hesitation.

Chief Winchen, Im truly relieved youre recovering.

The old woman smiled faintly, looking towards the entrance. The smile of a sage who had been to the brink of death was calming in itself.

I called you here to conclude our previous conversation.

Very well. Everything I told chieftain Kakantir is true, and I swore by the heavens to uphold it. Of course, there are still a few things I havent mentioned, but they are irrelevant to the Cheonrye tribe.

Ian took the initiative, smiling openly. Kakantir also seemed satisfied with his unreserved attitude. Winchen brought her hands together and greeted Ian again.

Something didnt feel right.

Dergha frantically gathered the documents on his desk and shouted, Move these documents to the aides office right now! And lock the door from inside and wait. Theres plenty of ink in the left drawer. If anything seems strange, spill it all. Got it?

Wha? Yes, yes. Uh, understood.

Damn it!

Dergha sternly instructed and then went down the stairs. All the servants were gathered at the central entrance, looking anxious.

Mas, master. What is this exactly?

Move aside!

He stepped forward, straightening his disheveled clothing. The butler withdrew with a troubled look, and Dergha faced the imperial investigation team leader.

Are you Count Dergha Bratz?

That I am. But I fail to see the reason for this.

I am Erica Berti, captain of the Imperial Investigation Team, dispatched from the Imperial Palace. Here is the permit personally stamped by the Emperor. I have come to investigate treason under grounds of tax evasion, and I swear an honest and truthful process.

Treason due to tax evasion.

The moment he heard the reason for the dispatch, Dergha felt his heart drop. How did these bastards find out? How, indeed?

But the words he spat out were brazen and confident.

What a farce. Im holding back the barbarians at the border for the sake of Bariel! And what? Treason due to tax evasion? This is absurd!

It was an immediate denial. Until the guilt was confirmed. Dergha was still a count, and this was his domain. Although dozens of carriages had arrived, he was still superior in terms of military strength.

Erica with a familiar air, took another document from her possession.

Is this the Bratz familys seal?

There were clear stamps of a leopard and yew pattern on a tightly-written note.

I am advocating for an inquiry into the Bratz familys tax evasion. Your Majesty, please conduct the investigation without any reservations or doubts.

As Dergha tried to grab the letter, Erica firmly slapped his hand away. The sealed letter, even stamped, meant that they could turn his mansion upside down, and he couldnt say a thing.

We will manage the mansion for the time being. All servants, including the count, must follow the vice-commanders instructions. Make way for the soldiers arriving soon in the garden.

The warning was that additional forces would be arriving soon, so dont act hastily. Ericas men, with swords drawn, pushed into the mansion.

Thump, thump! Bang!

Aargh!

Wait a minute!

Everyone, shut up and follow!

Ma, master! Master!

You! The one going up the stairs!

Aaahhh!

They couldnt tie up the noble count himself, so they first suppressed his hands and feet, which were the servants. Erica stomped on the carpet with the heel of her boot as she entered.

Quite a splendid mansion, I must say.

You

Young master Chel and Countess Mary will also return home soon. You have nothing to worry about. Just stay still and follow instructions. Everyone, sweep from the top floor!

At Ericas shout, Derghas head rang. How did they know that his office is on the top floor? There was no information of it written in the sealed letter. That meant it wasnt just a paper tip-off.

Morlin!

This damned wretched, who he had treated with kindness but being feasted upon! Furious, Derghas face turned red. Erica passed by him, smiling faintly, and all that could be heard was the servants screams.

My lord!

The one running up the stairs was apparently the butler. He was dragged down, but Dergha did not move, lost in thought.

Morlin, how did that bastard stamp the seal? Is he related to that aide? But that guy hasnt awakened yet. Hes still under surveillance

Dergha let out a disbelieving laugh. If he had to name someone close to Morlin in Bratz

Iaaaaan!

At the sudden scream, the soldiers flinched but no one stopped him. It looked like he might collapse from high blood pressure at any moment. Dying sooner rather than later might not be such a bad choice. After all, he was going to die anyway.

Hes talking to himself here. Basically, hes addressing the OG Ian.[]