MBSE Chapter 24

“Oh, oh my! What business do the Cheonrye Tribe have here…?”

That was something Ian was curious about too. Why on earth had the Cheonrye Tribe come all the way here? Wasn’t it a three-day ride from their stronghold to the Bratz territory? They wouldn’t have ridden the kusilles for a trivial reason.

‘It seems like a sudden visit.’

If it had been a scheduled meeting, there’s no way Hannah wouldn’t have known. She would have been busy preparing to receive guests since the day before.

Ian noticed the gazes of the Cheonrye Tribe directed at him.

“They, they’re looking this way.”

“Ugh…”

Beric only let out a strained groan from behind. They whispered among themselves, then soon split into two groups. The one who seemed to be the leader passed through the main gate and headed to the main building, while his subordinates approached Ian.

“They, they’re coming! This way!”

Any Bratz citizen would naturally react like Hannah.

They were the enemy with whom they had an ambiguous truce for a long time, mysterious beings, and barbaric people with transcendent power. They couldn’t hide their bewilderment, fear, and excitement.

“Hannah, you don’t need to make a fuss.”

“But they’re the Cheonrye Tribe! And, and why are the birds so huge?”

“They came all the way here without any interference. They won’t be hostile.”

While reassuring Hannah, the Cheonryeo man surveyed this side.

“Excuse me.”

The man who approached closely looked down at Ian from atop the kusille. His eyes, sharp without double eyelids, were quite intimidating. They intently examined Ian’s hair and facial features.

“Are you Ian, the second son of Marquis Bratz?”

“That I am. And who might you be?”

Hannah quietly hid behind Ian. For a frontiersman, he spoke the Bariel language quite fluently.

“We’ve come from the Cheonrye Tribe with an urgent letter to deliver. It seems we need to meet with the Marquis, so it would be good if we could go up together now.”

An urgent letter to deliver.

Judging by their request for Ian’s companionship, it was clearly related to the peace treaty. Ian nodded, signaling to Hannah with his eyes.

“When the training is over, give Beric some fruit and cool water.”

At the same time, Beric’s face crumpled. It meant to continue training even in Ian’s absence.

“Young Master Ian! Young Master Ian!”

As expected, servants rushed out from the main building, calling for Ian. He turned his back on the Cheonryeo people and went up to Derga’s office. Amidst the highly chaotic atmosphere, the butler was awkwardly clasping his hands.

“Father, did you call for me?”

“Come closer.”

The leader who had entered the main building earlier was sitting on the sofa. Underneath his neck were numerous thick scars.

Derga smiled with great benevolence and grasped Ian’s shoulder.

“Ian, pay your respects. This is Nersarn, the Cheonrye Tribe’s envoy. He’s the younger brother of Chief Kakantir.”

The Marquis’s hand was full of force. It was a prod to be fully alert. Wasn’t everything he had done so far practice to show these people?

“It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Ian Bratz.”

The jet-black eyes scanned Ian up and down. He soon clasped his hands as if praying and responded. It was the Cheonrye Tribe’s etiquette.

“Valamei chin Nersarn.”

“But what’s the matter?”

Derga intervened as if Ian was inadequate. The tea hadn’t even come out yet, but Nersarn answered without minding.

“We need to adjust the peace treaty schedule.”

He was straightforward without beating around the bush. It was partly due to their nature, but it also meant the situation was urgent.

“Chief Winchen’s health has suddenly deteriorated. Being elderly, it’s not that she didn’t have a chronic illness, but this is the first time she’s been bedridden. Only God knows the future, so we want to prepare everything we can.”

It was due to the Cheonrye Tribe’s funeral customs. When a family member died, they secluded themselves for a year and prayed to God for rest, and when a leader died, all the tribesmen had to participate.

Until now, the deaths of the chiefs had been due to rebellions, so those driven from their positions did not receive such honors and only performed the rites with their families.

But what about Chief Winchen?

Even Derga couldn’t tell when her roots in the Cheonrye Tribe began. If they collectively secluded themselves, the peace treaty event would naturally be impossible. That’s why they had rushed here to adjust the date.

‘Considering it’s enemy territory, it’s understandable for the chief’s brother to come.’

“You mean to move up the date?”

“That’s right.”

Chief Winchen was a gypsy who could discern lies. As a new peace offering was entering the community, she wanted to discern Ian’s impurity with her ability.

“So, we’ve come to ask for the understanding of Marquis Bratz and Young Master Ian. We would be grateful if you consider it an accommodation for peace.”

Although he used polite words since he was in a position to make a request, the nuance was quite ambiguous. If they refused, there would be no peace treaty, and instead of peace, they would smell the stench of blood again. Wasn’t it a threat?

Derga concealed his displeasure with a fake cough and asked.

“There’s only a little over a month left. How much do you want to move it up?”

“We’d like to proceed as simply as possible.”

Nersarn added that even the coming weekend would be feasible.

The Marquis chose to remain silent for a moment instead of answering. This was quite troublesome because he had to send Duke Mollin to the central government immediately to proceed with the registration.

‘If we can’t match the timing, there’s no choice…’

But to form the peace treaty first.

Anyway, registration was just a formality on paper, so it had nothing to do with the Cheonrye Tribe. They would be curious about whether Derga’s blood was mixed with Ian’s, and they would take Winchen’s word over hundreds of documents.

“…Aren’t you tired from riding for days?”

“I’m fine. This much is nothing.”

“You may be fine, but the kusilles won’t be, right?”

When they return to the Great Desert, they’ll have to charge through sandstorms again. It would surely be quite an exhausting schedule for the fatigued kusilles.

“How about staying for a day and leaving tomorrow morning?”

It meant he would give an answer then. For Derga, it was the right course of action to discuss this matter with Duke Mollin and set a date.

Nersarn’s brows furrowed slightly at the hesitant answer, but that was it.

“…Thank you for your kindness.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s only natural for a friend of an ally. Butler! Provide rooms for our guests!”

The butler, who had been waiting outside, promptly entered and guided the guests. Nersarn and his subordinates left the office, and Ian turned to Derga. He was lost in thought, biting the tip of his nails.

‘Is it something to agonize over that much? Unexpected.’

The registration confirmation could only be issued at the imperial palace, so even if they applied right now, it would take time. Since the Cheonrye Tribe had changed the date first, it was okay to give it to them late.

The preparations for the peace treaty had only just begun. Since the important thing was the agreement itself, if their intentions aligned, it was possible to hold it this weekend, as Nersarn said.

‘It doesn’t seem like he’s trying to gain something.’

There’s no room. The list of exchanges had already been decided, and if Winchen died, it was unknown what would happen to the peace treaty. In this case, it was advantageous for Derga to cooperate as much as possible in many ways. Wouldn’t that allow him to gain the upper hand in future negotiations?

“Father?”

Ian called out to him. The nail-biting was getting worse. It was a question of puzzlement rather than worry. At the child’s voice, the Marquis suddenly came to his senses.

“…You haven’t left yet?”

“I’m asking if I should also attend to the guests.”

Shouldn’t there be a cue for him to leave?

At Ian’s words, Derga waved his hand dismissively. It meant to stay cooped up in his room without causing any trouble.

“Nersarn is the chief’s beloved younger brother. He’s no ordinary man, so don’t think of treating him carelessly.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Is anyone outside?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Prepare the carriage! Hurry!”

Derga shouted as he picked up his coat. It seemed he was going to rush to Duke Mollin to share the situation.

Ian turned around and glanced at the office door. The side bedroom that was still firmly locked. With the assistant absent, it would be chaotic in many ways.

‘The timing is remarkable.’

If they had stalled for more time, Duke Mollin would have returned to the capital without receiving the sealed letter. Somehow, it felt like they had received God’s blessing.

As Ian came out with a faint smile, he saw Beric lying flat. Hannah was diligently fanning him.

“Young Master! Are you done with your business? What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing much. It seems the date of the peace treaty will be changed. Did you finish circling the garden already?”

“Can’t you see? I’m dying, damn it! Ugh…”

“Those Cheonryeo people won’t be staying at the manor for long, right? Earlier, they followed the butler’s guidance and went to the annex.”

Hannah chattered without stopping her fanning. They couldn’t keep foreigners in the main building, and hadn’t there been an unpleasant incident in the office recently? On the other hand, the annex had numerous guest rooms. They were probably assigned to the floor above Ian’s.

‘The surveillance will be intense.’

Soldiers would guard the building all night. Still, if Ian put his mind to it, he could easily make contact. After all, they were the targets of the “peace treaty.” They couldn’t station guards right in front of the door.

“Young Master, should I ask the butler to change rooms just for today?”

Hannah asked worriedly. She seemed anxious about having Ian stay in the same building as the Cheonrye Tribe. Ian shook his head and smiled.

“It’s fine. They’re the ones I’ll be living with from now on. Beric, pull yourself together and follow me. Hannah, go do your job now.”

At the firm command, Beric staggered to his feet. Ian, who had been quietly watching, grabbed his forehead and infused mana into him.

Zing-

“I told you to get a grip.”

“Damn it. Giving the illness and the cure…”

“Think of it as the stick and the carrot.”

Ptooey! Beric spat out a bitter taste and barely took a step. Gradually, his gait became steady. As they entered the annex building, the servants’ anxious chatter could be heard.

“Did you see? They’re much bigger than I thought!”

“That’s why they say even a dozen soldiers charging at them won’t work. Oh my. They’re like beasts.”

“What kind of food will we serve them? The butler didn’t say anything special.”

“Since they’re barbarians, won’t they eat raw meat if we give it to them?”

Is it ignorance or malice?

Ian clicked his tongue and made his presence known. The servants greeted Ian without much surprise.

‘It’s ignorance.’

“I heard we have guests?”

“There were no suitable rooms, so we placed them on the floor above you, Young Master. Please sleep in the main building tonight.”

“Or should we tell them to keep a night watch?”

“You must sleep with the door locked!”

Ian tried to brush it off and instructed.

“Enough. Prepare some simple snacks and wine with care and bring them up. This isn’t a meal, so there’s no need to tell the butler.”

They had barged in like the wind, so they couldn’t even serve tea in the office. To guests who had ridden for days, it was a breach of etiquette unbecoming of a nobleman. Derga had told him not to show his face, but Ian had no intention of doing so.

Knock knock.

“This is Ian Bratz. Excuse me.”

“…Come in.”

He entered the room with servants carrying trays. Like beasts trapped in a cage, they were all standing in their spots. The servants nervously set the food on the table.

“You must be hungry after the long journey. Please have a bite. Your visit was sudden, so we need a bit more time to prepare. Please understand.”

At Ian’s greeting, Nersarn approached closely. And he looked down as if seeing a very curious creature. It was a gaze that regarded each other as unfamiliar beasts.

“When I saw you earlier, I was puzzled that you don’t resemble the Marquis at all. I wondered how the bloodlines of the nobles of the Great Empire could be so different.”

The leader’s crude joke made the subordinates burst into laughter. Nersarn neatly turned his head and signaled to them with his eyes. It was a cue to take the food.

“But seeing you like this, you’re definitely a nobleman.”

It seemed like a compliment, but not quite. It seemed respectful, but not quite. The ambiguous nuance continued. Nersarn added with a bright smile.

“It’s a compliment. Young Master Ian.”

If Derga was the one holding the leash, these people were the ones holding a sword to his neck. However…

‘Your swords will soon become my swords.’

Ian stood facing him, smiled brightly, and then calmly approached.