A Mage Reborn: Legacy of the Fallen Emperor
Chapter 37. The Desert’s Betrayal

Chapter 37: Chapter 37. The Desert’s Betrayal

"Hiyah!"

Derga spurred his horse, galloping into the forest that bordered the Mereloff territory—the opposite direction from the Great Desert. A temporary training ground, established by the previous generation to secure the area, lay hidden within its depths.

Deo should be there with the private soldiers.

’No, he has to be there!’

Under pressure from the investigation team, the soldiers stationed at the mansion had been dismissed, but the private army, centered around Deo, remained.

"Deoooo!"

Derga dismounted and ran towards the training grounds. His voice, raw with desperation, echoed back to him.

Silence. Not a soul in sight.

"No, it can’t be..."

Could there be a worse fate after the worst?

A torrent of dreadful possibilities flooded Derga’s mind. Had the fleeing butler managed to relay the message to Deo? Even if he had, could Deo have... fled?

"Count!"

A voice.

The training ground’s banner fluttered, and a figure emerged. Derga, panting, rushed in, finding soldiers concealed within.

"Deo!"

"My lord. Are you alright? What of the Cheonryeo tribe?"

The original plan was to have the Cheonryeo tribe harass the investigation team while Deo’s forces provided support from the rear. A full-scale confrontation with the Central Army held significance beyond mere resistance, and the Cheonryeo were meant to act as a buffer.

"It failed. They betrayed us. We must retake the mansion before the Central Army arrives. We need to hold out until the First Prince Marib’s reply arrives."

They were being humiliated because it was the borderlands, but, also because it was the borderlands, it was doable. The Bratz territory had two to three times the number of soldiers compared to other territories, and its unique terrain offered many variables.

And that wasn’t all.

The presence of the Cheonryeo tribe meant they were always prepared for war. The fact that they could rally their soldiers even during a surprise attack by the investigation team was proof of that.

For the first time in his life, Derga felt a surge of pride for his territory and his soldiers.

"Your orders will be obeyed."

"Unlike the Central Army, the investigation team’s forces are not significant. Let’s go. Let’s kill them all. We’ll tear them to shreds and feed them to the beasts."

Deo smiled, bowing his head.

There are always those who crave war. And now, Deo was one of them.

’If we win this battle, the military command will undoubtedly be mine.’

Then, he would be second only to Derga in the Bratz territory. Chel? Even if that fool became the viscount, the blood and sweat Deo shed today would be forever remembered.

He, too, was from the bottom. The heart of a man who stood at the precipice of his life’s peak began to pound.

"Let’s go! To reclaim our lives!"

"Waaaaaaah!"

Deo’s roar ignited a thunderous battle cry from the soldiers, a fierce shout that seemed to shake the silent mountains. Birds scattered in fright, and amidst them, a large hawk circled leisurely.

Whoosh.

Far away, the long procession of the Central Army was reflected in the hawk’s keen eyes. The Bratz territory, passed down through generations. An unprecedented, internecine bloodbath was fast approaching.

Su, observing this, extended his hand and received the hawk, fixing Cushille’s head towards the Great Desert.

Beric was drenched in cold sweat. The aged physician shoved clumps of herbs into the gaping wound in his side and continued to pour an unidentifiable black liquid into his mouth.

Kakan’tiir, leaning against the entrance of the tent, watched the scene before asking, "How long before he can get up? A month?"

"Kakan, those not of the Cheonryeo blood have weaker constitutions. An ordinary man would have died instantly. But judging by his fiery temper, he might last three or four months."

"Three or four months. That’s a bit inconvenient, Lord Ian."

The battle between Derga and the Central Army was imminent.

Even if Ian had the Cheonryeo tribe on his side, his only personal force was Beric. In this chaotic situation, to be without even him...

Ian smiled faintly and brushed a strand of hair away from Beric’s face. Matted with sweat and sand, it was a mess.

"It’s fine."

"You seem to have something else in mind."

"Whether Beric recovers or not, there’s always a way."

Kakan’tiir left at the sound of Nersaren’s voice calling from outside. The physician continued to treat Beric, replacing the blood-soaked herbs. As time passed, Beric’s dark skin seemed to grow paler.

"Keep an eye on him for a moment. I need to get fresh medicine."

The physician instructed Ian before exiting with an armful of debris. The space fell silent. Ian inhaled deeply and placed a hand on Beric’s forehead.

’I don’t know if this will work, Beric. But it’s better than nothing.’

He would infuse him with mana, just like before. His condition was severe, but it had to help. Beric had shown his abilities as a magic swordsman, hadn’t he? He wanted to believe it would be far more effective than before.

Zzzzt. Zzzzt.

Ian activated his mana.

Unlike before, when he had only pushed it in little by little, he poured it in continuously. It felt like he was exhaling without end.

"Ah..."

After a few minutes, sweat poured down his face, and his vision blurred. But Beric still showed no reaction. Feeling like he couldn’t take it anymore, Ian withdrew his hand.

Thud.

"What are you doing? Lord Ian, are you alright?"

The physician, who had just returned, paused, startled. Ian staggered, barely supporting himself on the edge of the bed.

"I’m fine."

"Why, why suddenly..."

"Just a bit dizzy. Don’t worry about it."

"Just wait a moment. I’ll get something for your dizziness after I change these herbs. Huh? What’s this?"

The physician, while changing the cloth, paused, noticing Beric’s face. The man, who had been groaning in unconsciousness, had found a rather stable breathing pattern. He touched the damp herbs. Much less blood came out.

"What is this guy, really?"

"...Beric?"

"Not his name. I didn’t see the fight myself, but everyone’s been talking about it."

The physician mumbled, continuing the treatment. He glanced at Ian as if expecting an answer, but Ian, drained of energy, turned his head away.

"...Kakan?"

Kakan’tiir entered, holding something in his hand. He looked at Ian’s state with a curious smile.

"Well, this might not be enough."

"What is it?"

Silently, Kakan’tiir placed a gurute leaf on a round candlestick. A crackling sound filled the air as it burned, and a thick smoke filled the tent. The chieftain carefully handled the leaf and held it to Beric’s nose, then offered it to Ian.

"It is the Cheonryeo way of avoiding death."

"Will it work on Beric?"

"I don’t know. I’ve never seen an outsider use it. But at the banquet, he seemed to react to it."

It was a secret technique of the tribe that helped one forget pain and instantly boost the body’s energy. They were strong in their own right, but the effect of the gurute leaf could not be ignored. That was why, even in trade with Bratz, gurute leaves were designated as prohibited goods.

And yet, he was sharing it with outsiders.

The meaning was profound, and it was a new experience.

"Thank you."

Ian chewed on the leaf. A bitter taste followed by a sour, pungent one. Kakan’tiir watched Ian for a moment before speaking.

"Ryul, who I sent with Su, has returned. Su has decided to wait at the border."

"The giant hawk?"

"Yes. As you said, Derga is cornered. He seems to have gathered his soldiers, though."

Bratz’s military strength was somewhat predictable. He had seen and heard things while living in the mansion. More than anything, he had seen how much was poured into maintaining the private army, so that was not the issue.

"What about the Central Army?"

"No report on that yet."

The problem was the size of the Central Army and the investigation team. Only by knowing that could they estimate the situation and respond accordingly. Ian felt his heart beating faster and spat out the gurute leaf.

"You have a few days, so rest."

As soon as Kakan’tiir left, Ian collapsed to the side, curling up. The physician glanced at him and pulled a blanket up to his shoulders.

How much time had passed?

Whoosh.

Ian opened his eyes to a sudden gust of cold wind. It was dark outside. The physician was nowhere to be seen, and the candle was out. Only the faint smell of gurute leaves lingered.

"...Beric?"

Beric was no longer sweating, but he was still unconscious. Ian leaned against the bed, rubbing his face to shake off the drowsiness.

Creak.

A noise came from outside.

It seemed it wasn’t just the wind that had woken him. He stared intently at the entrance, fumbling on the floor. A dagger was attached to the belt Beric had taken off.

"Who is it?"

No answer.

Ian, bathed in the pouring moonlight, slowly walked towards the entrance. His shadow stretched long. He instinctively felt someone’s presence on the other side of the door.

’Damn it. I don’t understand.’

The presence outside was undoubtedly a member of the Cheonryeo tribe. They were the only ones who lived in the Great Desert, and even if Derga had sent a spy, it would have been impossible to penetrate the Cheonryeo’s defenses and reach this place.

That’s why Ian couldn’t fathom it.

Just this afternoon, they had been so friendly to Ian and Beric, even offering the gurute leaf. Why then, was this person outside radiating such murderous intent?

Thwack!

The door was thrown open from the outside. The person outside, realizing Ian’s hesitation, had acted first.

A mask made of fur and feathers concealing the shoulders. The man immediately lunged at Ian, swinging his sword.

Clang!

"Ugh!"

It would be more accurate to say he had luckily deflected it rather than blocked it.

The dagger Ian had reflexively swung was split in two, clattering to the floor. The assailant showed no hesitation. He grabbed Ian’s face with one hand and seized his throat with the other.

Thump!

"Mmph!"

He had completely covered Ian’s mouth, preventing him from calling for help.

Ian’s feet flailed in the air. So this is what it felt like to be on the verge of death. It was a pain he had never experienced before. And who could blame him? Who would dare to grab Emperor Ian by the scruff of his neck?

"A lowborn should stay in his place. What kind of scheme are you plotting?"

The voice was not entirely unfamiliar.

"Do you know how much trouble you and that red-headed bastard have caused? Empire scum are never any help. Just like your father."

Mentioning Derga?

Ian pushed against the assailant’s face. He worried that the fur mask might neutralize his magic, but...

Zzzzt. Zzzzt.

"Just die quietly—!"

Whoosh!

Boom!

Ian unleashed his magic explosively. The sudden impact pushed the assailant back, and Ian, too, was flung into the air, falling hard.

Thump!

"Damn it."

Ian coughed, lying on the floor. His wrist throbbed from the awkward landing. Simultaneously, lights flickered on outside the tent.

The light-sleeping Cheonryeo tribe, awakened by the commotion, were stirring.