A Mage Reborn: Legacy of the Fallen Emperor
Chapter 40: Return

Chapter 40: Chapter 40: Return

Across the vast expanse of the Great Desert, the warriors of the Cheonryeo tribe thundered, each stride a testament to their self-proclaimed title. At their vanguard rode Kakantir, a whirlwind of sand and fury in his wake. Close behind, shrouded beneath a concealing hood, followed Ian.

And Beric?

"Heh...hehehe..."

"Shut it. Can you keep your mouth shut for once?"

He was practically glued to the back of the warrior assigned to guard Ian, a constant stream of laughter escaping his lips. He seemed thrilled to have been brought along, despite being trussed up like a sack of grain, bound tightly with ropes.

"Lord Ian, are you sure about bringing this...thing along?"

"What else can we do? He threatened to cause trouble if we left him behind."

"Crazy bastard. He refused to rest, even when we told him to."

"That’s not resting! That’s being left out!"

Beric had miraculously regained the ability to sit upright, but even walking was a struggle. The others had agreed that leaving him behind was the better option, but then he’d dropped his bombshell.

He’d threatened to bite his tongue and kill himself if they left him.

It was absurd, but knowing Beric, he might actually do it. They had no choice.

"So, is this considered participating in battle? Just being carried around, clinging to Kusile’s back? Well, at least you can be a shield if arrows start flying."

"Yeah. No thanks. I reckon I’ll be good in two days."

"Your head’s gone, man."

"I’m serious. I can feel it."

Ian shook his head, listening to Beric’s babble with the warrior. This guy, there had to be more to him than just being a cursed swordsman. Even the Cheonryeo, blessed by the spirits of nature, didn’t possess such a ridiculous recovery rate.

Ian kept glancing back at Beric, who grinned whenever their eyes met. He was clearly enjoying himself.

Thud, thud, thud!

"Kakan! Bariel is in sight!" a warrior riding ahead shouted.

"Let’s go!"

At Kakan’s command, they urged their Kusiles to pick up the pace. They swiftly passed the small temple where they had formed a peace treaty, then crossed the twin rocks that marked the border. Beric chewed on a gurun leaf, letting out a whoop of joy.

"We’re back!"

"Happy, Beric?"

"Damn right! Feels amazing!"

The warriors burst into laughter. Even Kakantir, who had been glancing back, joined in. He slowly pulled on Kusile’s reins, slowing their pace. They had reached the rendezvous point where they were to meet with Su.

"Everyone! Over here!"

"Su!"

They greeted Su with relief. After a brief exchange of embraces with her comrades, she quickly reported the current situation.

"The Bratz mercenaries are quite capable. Even when pushed back, they used the terrain to their advantage and held their ground well. Of course, they’re lacking in other areas, so the tide inevitably turned. If they had given up on retaking the mansion and retreated into the forest, wouldn’t it have been over? They fought tooth and nail, a truly desperate battle."

"And Derga?"

That was the crucial question for the Cheonryeo. Su smiled at Kakantir’s anger-laden question.

"Still alive. The Central Army hasn’t stopped their pursuit. And there’s been no sign of them entering the mansion."

"Good, Su. Join us. We’re heading deeper into Bratz."

At Kakantir’s order, they nodded in unison. They rode further into the heart of Bratz. The river that ran through the territory was stained crimson, and unidentifiable corpses littered the landscape.

And that wasn’t all.

Fields, ready for the autumn harvest, were ruined by the debris of half-destroyed houses. Screams and wails blended together, creating the most horrific sound imaginable. It was impossible to pinpoint the source of the cacophony.

"Aaaagh!"

"Someone help us! Please!"

"Wait, wait! Thief! Thief!"

"You crazy bastard! Give me back my bread!"

Thud! Thwack!

Where swords had passed, the dregs of humanity spilled forth. Stepping on others to survive was commonplace, as the weak preyed on the weaker, a vicious cycle with no end in sight.

"It’s more gruesome than I expected."

"Is it? I think it’s exactly as gruesome as I expected."

Ian replied to Kakantir’s comment. Having witnessed countless wars, Ian was accustomed to such scenes, but they still unsettled him. It was an unavoidable part of the flow of history, after all.

Nersaren muttered, looking at the smoke rising in the distance.

"This seems like a fatal blow for both sides."

"Yes. It’s perfect."

The ideal scenario for Ian and the Cheonryeo was for both the Central Army and Derga’s mercenaries to be on the verge of annihilation. Only then would the presence of the Cheonryeo be felt most strongly, giving Ian the leverage he needed.

"Look! Over there!"

Just then, villagers tending to the streets pointed and shouted. They had noticed the Cheonryeo procession.

"Barbarians! The barbarians are attacking!"

"Oh, gods! Why?! Why?!"

"Everyone, run! Run!"

"Waaaaah!"

People clutched their children and fled. Some, having given up all hope, simply knelt and prayed.

It was understandable. The battle with the Central Army had already devastated the area. To add insult to injury, if the barbarians joined the fray, all that awaited them was despair.

"Those heartless bastards! They saw their chance and attacked, didn’t they? Like the beasts they are! Get lost! Get out of here!"

"Honey! Don’t! Please!"

"Yeah, kill us! Kill us all! Let’s see you judged by the gods! Kill us all!"

"The Cheonryeo are attacking! It’s the Cheonryeo!"

"Those bastards would even rob a bank, hurry, keep running! Run!"

It was utter chaos. Kakantir’s expression remained stoic, but the warriors couldn’t hide their displeasure. They hadn’t come to help, but they hadn’t come to attack either. They were simply riding slowly towards the mansion.

"Waaaaah!"

Thump!

A child stumbled and fell amidst the fleeing villagers. The parents who had let go of the child’s hand were nowhere to be seen. Kakantir stopped his Kusile and looked down at the child.

"Sniffle..."

Tears welled up in the child’s bright eyes. Even as the child trembled, lips pressed tightly together, Kakantir simply stared down silently. The fleeing villagers also watched from a distance.

"There’s a child in front. Guide your Kusiles carefully."

"Yes, Kakan."

Thud, thud, thud.

There was no kindness in offering to help the child up or asking if they were alright. But he instructed his followers to split up and pass by the small child as if it were a rock. The child, frozen in shock, could only stare up at them.

"Here. Get up. The ground is cold."

Ian, passing by, slowly extended his hand. Beneath the hood, his face was not that of a Cheonryeo, but the familiar blonde hair and green eyes. The child, with a grimy hand, instinctively grabbed Ian’s hand.

"Good kid."

Ian, holding the child, slowly urged his Kusile forward. He gestured to a villager standing frozen in the distance.

"Come and take your child. Is your parent there?"

"I, I, I am! I’m the father!"

"What are you doing standing there, father?"

At Ian’s call, a man rushed over, snapping out of his daze. He hesitantly took the child from Ian. The face revealed beneath the slightly lifted hood was familiar.

"...Lord Ian?"

"Do you know me?"

"I, I’m the stable hand. Don’t you remember?"

"Ah, yes. It’s you."

He didn’t remember the name, but the face was familiar. Aside from the minor injuries, he was covered in dirt, making him hard to recognize. Ian patted the stable hand’s shoulder and smiled.

"It’s been a while. I’m glad you’re alive."

"...What, what’s going on?"

"Later. I’m a bit busy right now. But the Cheonryeo have come to help Bratz, so don’t be afraid, and tell your neighbors. Take care."

Turning his head, he saw that the Cheonryeo were waiting for him, including Beric, still tied up and hanging. Ian, as if returning to his original position, naturally urged his Kusile forward.

"Hey, hey. What did he say?"

"Do you know him?"

As the Cheonryeo disappeared from sight, people rushed to the stable hand, eager to know what was going on. They were desperate to know the fate of their hometown.

"It’s...Lord Ian, right?"

"Ian? The Count’s bastard son?"

"He was sold to the Cheonryeo... Huh?! That’s right! He went across the desert!"

"What did the bastard say? Huh? He said something long."

They exclaimed, realizing they had forgotten about the bastard son. The stable hand, clutching his child, followed Ian’s disappearing figure with his eyes. Before crossing the Great Desert, Ian had told Haena to quit her job at the mansion, as if he knew the future.

’Well, that’s not the only reason I quit...’

In any case, those who had left the mansion had mostly escaped harm, while those who remained had been killed by the investigation team.

With the Countess and the heir’s fates unknown, the lives of the servants were worth less than dirt.

"He said...the Cheonryeo would help..."

"The Cheonryeo will help?"

"What..."

The villagers scoffed, but no one dared to openly refute his words, because the reality was just that desperate.

In this situation, where their own country, Bariel, and their lord, Derga, were fighting, who else could stop them?

"Move. We have no business with you."

"Run, keep running forward!"

"The barbarians are here! The barbarians are attacking!"

"Ah, those bastards keep saying barbarians, barbarians. Can’t we just kill those ones and go?"

"Aaaagh! The beastmen are here! Save us!"

"Shut up, Mugurun. Don’t get distracted."

"The mansion is in sight!"

Meanwhile, the Cheonryeo, having crossed the village, finally reached the Bratz mansion. Instead of the family’s banner, the scorched banner of the investigation team fluttered in the wind. A clear indication of who had won the battle.

Neigh!

Kakantir pulled on Kusile’s reins, bringing it to a complete stop. The soldiers guarding the front of the mansion hastily raised their spears. Their helmets and armor were covered in blood, and they looked utterly exhausted.

"Wh-who are you?!"

"Are you barbarians from the borderlands? How did you get here?"

Clang!

Their limping and shouting were pathetic. Just as a warrior, his temper flaring, drew his sword and stepped forward, Ian stopped him. He gave an apologetic look and stepped forward himself.

"I am Ian, the bastard son of Count Bratz. These are the great warriors of the desert, the Cheonryeo. We have not come to fight, so inform your master of ’our’ presence."

The soldiers hesitated, seeing Ian’s blonde hair and green eyes. That appearance was definitely that of a Bariel. Their gazes shifted to the warriors standing firmly behind Ian.

They were the embodiment of the spirit of the great wilderness. The aura of an apex predator emanated from them, raw and untamed. The soldiers stammered, stepping back.

"...J-just, w-wait a moment."

If they were told to retreat, they felt like their heads would be crushed instantly. The soldier stumbled backward and then ran inside to report.

His remaining comrades held their swords in awkward positions.

Neigh!

Even the sound of Kusile’s cry made them flinch and break out in a cold sweat.