"What do you—...ah." Thesaya tilted her head, then let out a short realization. "The trading company got here first, huh?"

"Most likely." Ian nodded calmly.

They’d been delayed over ten days longer than expected, clearing demonic realms along the way. That was more than enough time for the trading company of Hexagonal Alliance to arrive ahead of them.

"They must’ve already informed the count."

There wouldn’t be many outsiders coming to Drenorov at a time like this. If an unusual group was spotted, orders had likely been given to signal it.

"Well, looks like we won’t be waiting long," Miguel muttered, glancing at the approaching farm hut.

Right on cue, the young man who had been ringing the bell stopped, gave the group a slight bow, and headed inside. Like the others scattered across the wheat fields who had paused their work to look over, he carried an attitude that was blunt yet respectful.

"Well, congratulations either way, Half-Ear."

As the carriage rolled toward another gentle hill, Thesaya glanced across and said, "Looks like your chance to make amends hasn’t disappeared after all."

"It’s too early to be certain," Nasser replied evenly, opening his eyes. He looked past the carriage roof toward Ian. "There’s no guarantee that those orders came from the same count we once knew."

Pointlessly cautious, as always.

Ian snorted softly, while Thesaya nodded. "True. Since the Agent of the Saint is visiting, even if it’s not that old man, someone else could’ve given those orders in advance."

"We’ll know once we get there," Ian said, shifting his gaze toward the now-quiet hill ahead.

Though if someone else were ruling Drenorov, I doubt they’d go this far.

"Still, judging by the fields, this year’s harvest doesn’t seem bad. At least we won’t have to worry about military supplies." Nasser added, looking out over the green wheat fields stretching along the slope.

"Assuming the royal family hasn’t already swept through and taken everything." Thesaya cut in dryly.

Ian showed no reaction. It was something they had all been concerned about for a while. The scale of those who would gather under his name had grown far beyond expectations.

If they truly assembled, the frontier and northern resources alone wouldn’t sustain them for long.

To prevent the fallout, support from Drenorov was essential.

"Uh... I’ve been keeping quiet since it feels like I’m the only one who doesn’t know, but..." Miguel said cautiously as the carriage began climbing the hill.

Ian turned to him.

Scratching his scarred cheek, Miguel continued, "How exactly are you planning to pay for all this? The grain alone is one thing, but storage fees, transport costs from the caravan—this isn’t pocket change..."

Before Ian could answer, Thesaya scoffed. "What kind of ridiculous question is that, Prosthetic? Ian’s the Archduke of the North. You think money’s an issue for him?"

"Easy mistake to make, but the North isn’t exactly wealthy," Miguel added bluntly.

"Huh?" Thesaya’s brows arched upward. "Why wouldn’t the North have money? Half the Empire’s weapons come from there."

Miguel let out a dry laugh and continued, "The royal family still hasn’t paid even half of what they owe for the war supplies delivered during the erosion. It’s been years. Do you have any idea how much the blacksmiths complain?"

"Wait, really? Why would they do that?" Thesaya blinked, clearly caught off guard.

Nasser and even Ian stared at Miguel. It wasn’t just news to them. It was something they’d never even bothered to think about.

"They said restoring order and supporting the people came first. Hard to argue with that, isn’t it?" Miguel clicked his tongue and shrugged. "At least the former archduke wrote off a good portion of the taxes. If he hadn’t, the dwarves would’ve torn cities apart by now."

"He reduced them, not deferred them?" Ian asked.

Miguel glanced at him and nodded. "That’s what I heard. It was probably the only way to calm the unrest. Things were already volatile in every sense. And the North had its own mess to clean up as well."

"Yeah, with even the barbarians causing chaos, if the craftsmen had walked out too, things would’ve gotten ugly," Thesaya muttered.

"With the fall of the Black Wall, they gained yet another excuse to delay payment. And with the Prince returning, even more so," said Nasser.

"And that’s not all. The Northern Front is also in ruins. Fixing that will take enormous resources and manpower. Her Highness the Princess has a lot on her mind... though it seems no one here noticed."

At that, Ian finally clicked his tongue. "Not even a little."

He’d been too busy thinking about ominous visions, leveling up, and how to dump troublesome responsibilities and leave the North as quickly as possible.

He had never once cared about its internal finances.

"If Ian buys up massive supplies under the archduke’s name, the princess might just collapse on the spot, huh?" Thesaya said, almost sounding as if she’d enjoy seeing it happen.

"Bankruptcy would be the best-case scenario. More realistically, they’d just raise taxes. Since it’s under your authority, people would have no choice but to comply. I thought you had some kind of plan..." Miguel trailed off.

He then awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well, whatever. Can’t let people starve, right? I’m sure the princess will come up with something—"

"Don’t worry. I never planned on using the North’s money in the first place." Ian cut him off.

Miguel blinked.

Thesaya immediately leaned in. "You didn’t? Then what were you planning? Credit?"

"Like the count would ever agree to that," Ian scoffed, glancing at her.

Thesaya, Nasser, and even Mev, leaning forward from inside the carriage, looked at him.

"I’ll need a bit of time, but I’ll pay for everything. Now that I know the North’s financial situation, I might as well deliver a little gift to the representative while I’m at it." Ian shrugged, meeting Miguel’s gaze a beat later.

"No, seriously. Where are you getting that kind of money? You’ve got some hidden vault stacked with gold or something?" Miguel asked, dumbfounded.

Thesaya blinked as well.

Ian’s lips curled slightly. "Something like that."

Through his mind flashed an image: a vast hoard of ancient relics, gold, and treasures.

Unless the entire Hexagonal Alliance was mobilized, a single merchant company wouldn’t even be able to transport it all at once.

"Just wait a bit. You’ll find out soon enough, whether you want to or not." Ian concluded, turning his gaze forward.

The others followed his gaze.

Clip-clop, clip-clop...

The carriage had already reached level ground again. Beneath the clear sky, green wheat fields stretched endlessly ahead.

And beyond them, atop a low hill, the vast silhouette of a great city came into view.

"So that’s Drenorov," murmured Miguel.

"Yeah," answered Thesaya. Her eyes traced the sturdy, timeworn walls and the buildings rising even beyond them.

A faint smile curved her lips. "Last time I saw it, it was a complete mess. Now it looks perfectly intact."

"If we’d come around harvest season, it would’ve been even more beautiful. The whole place would’ve looked like a golden city," Miguel said with a note of admiration.

"I’ve thought this before, but... I wish the whole continent looked like this," Mev murmured.

Nodding along, Ian glanced briefly at Lily.

Even if the chaos had been removed, she had still undergone forbidden experiments. In a place this bright and sacred, it wouldn’t have been strange if she felt fear or pain.

However, those concerns proved unnecessary.

Lily didn’t react at all. She simply leaned back against the driver’s seat, staring blankly up at the blue sky.

Click—

The carriage door opened just then.

Thesaya moved to the opposite side, while Mev, now wearing her helmet, leaned out.

"You should get in the carriage now, Ian."

"Alright," Ian slipped his foot out of the stirrup.

At the same time, Miguel helped Lily to her feet. "Mind taking her inside as well?"

"Not a problem," Ian replied, extending his Willful Grasp toward Lily.

A moment later, she floated up into the air. Even though it must have felt like something was binding her body, she didn’t struggle.

Not exactly a fun reaction.

Still, Ian guided her toward Mev. Mev caught her easily and ushered her into the carriage.

"Sit here, Pup," said Thesaya.

Ian jumped down onto the carriage step.

Mev smoothly mounted Nila in his place, and Ian stepped inside.

"We’re going straight to see the count, right?" Mev asked, adjusting her helmet.

Ian dropped into his seat and nodded. "Yeah. But try not to waste time on unnecessary formalities."

Mev hesitated for a moment, then answered, "Got it. I’ll keep it simple."

Clearly, she had no intention of skipping them entirely.

"Call me if you need me."

That was why Ian shut the window. It was easier not to hear any of it. With a flick of his Willful Grasp, he closed the opposite window too.

Silence settled inside the carriage.

Letting out a short breath, Ian reached down and picked up the bottle by his seat.

"I wonder what happened to my insignia," Thesaya said casually from across him, gently running her fingers through Lily’s hair.

Ian straightened slightly as he answered, "The Alliance knows you’re traveling with me. They’ve probably prepared it by now."

Thesaya’s smile deepened. "I know. I’m just curious what color it’ll be."

Probably silver.

Ian thought it, but said nothing, instead raising the bottle to his lips.

She watched him for a moment with a curious look, then asked, her voice low. "So, what are you hiding this time, Ian? Tell me first, at least. Coming to Drenov wasn’t just about supplies, was it?"

"No. There’s another reason." Ian met her gaze briefly.

"Figured as much," Thesaya murmured, watching him expectantly.

"Looks like we’ve arrived," Ian added, lifting the bottle again.

The carriage had come to a stop.

Outside, Mev was likely announcing his identity—or so he thought.

Knock, knock—

As the carriage began moving again, a tapping sound came from the window.

Ian handed the bottle to Thesaya and opened it.

The corner of his lips curled upward.

A familiar face came into view: a middle-aged knight with round, thick features.

"O Della Lu... You’ve truly returned, Agent of the Saint!"

"It's been a while, Sir Spello," Ian replied calmly.

They had met before in Racliffe. He was the knight who had gone out of his way to assist their group. His presence here was likely the result of Ian’s recommendation.

"You look just as you did before, Agent of the Saint. I heard many things and was worried, but now I can finally be at ease," Spello added, walking alongside the carriage as it passed through the gates.

His expression was all the more moved, clearly grateful that Ian had recognized him at once.

"No need to ask how you’ve been. I can tell just by looking—you’re doing well." Ian said with a smile.

Spello looked far healthier than before—plump, in fact.

"Thanks to Della Lu’s blessings." Spello laughed heartily.

More like bread and ale.

"And the count? Is he well?"

"Of course. He was in the middle of his duties, so he wasn’t in a state to receive you properly. That’s why I came to greet you in his stead."

Working in the fields again, is he?

Even so, a smile of relief appeared on Ian’s face. "Still the same, then. And it seems he knew we were coming."

"Yes. About a week ago—ah. There he is." Spello turned his head mid-sentence.

Beyond Nila and Mev, the buildings of Drenorov and its residents came into view.

"Finally! It’s been too long!" A familiar voice rang out from the front of the carriage.

Ian glanced at Thesaya with a faint smile.

"I had a feeling... but he really came in person."

Soon after, a man stepped forward before Spello—his face lit with a warm, welcoming smile.

"Glory to the Radiant Light! We’ve been waiting for you, Agent of the Saint!"

It was Fael, the representative of the Hexagonal Alliance and leader of the Ark Caravan.