"The highest peak, you say..." the count murmured, his eyes narrowing as he stroked his white beard in thought.

Meanwhile, Ian slowly took another sip of the thick beer.

It was partly to avoid the weight of the stares from those beside him. By now, not just Thesaya and Mev, but even Nasser had subtly leaned back to look at him.

"I cannot recall the mountain’s exact name, no matter how I try. It seems the older I grow, the more things slip away from me."

Fortunately, the silence didn’t last long.

Before Ian even lowered his glass, the count continued, "But I do know where it is. To the west of the range—northwest of the city, beyond the forest."

"Can you be more specific?" Ian set his glass down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

The count nodded. "It lies within a gorge known as the Mist Valley. As I said, I don’t recall its true name, but... It’s often called Wraith Mountain due to an ill-omened legend."

"Ill-omened legend?"

"It’s not widely known these days, but the mist within that gorge is said to have been created by an ancient fairy curse, with wraiths dwelling within."

Figures. Nothing good ever comes from fairy-related legends.

Ian let out a chuckle.

The count continued, "Those who fall under its influence lose their way in an instant. The fortunate may stumble back out the way they came, but most wander endlessly, plagued by hallucinations and whispers until they finally collapse from exhaustion—"

"They become food for the wraiths." Thesaya finished quietly.

By now, everyone was listening closely.

The count nodded, lifting his glass.

"If the mist is born of a curse, it would indeed be a suitable place for wraiths. Perhaps the victims themselves become wraiths as well," Mev added, eyes narrowed.

Thesaya nodded. "And if madness seeps in, it might not be just wraiths either."

"For generations, no one has attempted to cultivate the forest near that place, a tradition I have honored as well." The count set his glass down.

That was enough to make Ian’s brow tighten slightly. "Then you’re saying there’s no path leading to the gorge?"

"There is an old roadway, believed to have been built by the ancient fairies. It’s said to cut through the forest and connect to the mountain range, though I’ve never confirmed it myself."

"I’ll confirm it for you. How far is it from here?" Ian said immediately.

Count’s eyes narrowed again. "On foot, you should be able to reach the forest in less than three days... but why, exactly, are you heading to that mountain?"

Once more, the group’s attention shifted to Ian. This time, their gazes carried speculation.

"I have business there. More importantly, you’d best focus on setting a proper price for those supplies."

Without even glancing to the side, Ian lifted his glass with a smile.

"If you don’t, then I’d rather take nothing at all."

"What do you mean by that?"

Count’s brow twitched, but soon he let out a hollow chuckle and shook his head.

"You remain as difficult to grasp as ever. Still, please do not take away this chance for me to repay the debt I owe you, Your Grace. It may well be my last opportunity."

"I’m not saying this out of sentiment; I’m giving you a justification for when things take a turn," Ian said lightly, raising his glass.

Though his tone was casual, it was enough to stiffen the count’s smile.

Ian narrowed his eyes slightly as he added, "You’re not completely unaware of the situation in the capital, are you?"

"If you mean the unbelievable news that His Highness the Crown Prince has returned, then yes, I am aware," the count answered at once.

His brow tightened before he continued, "As for the equally unbelievable report that he defied the Imperial command, entered illegally, and seized Plante by force... I only heard that from a caravan master a few days ago."

"He didn’t seize it by force." Ian let out a short scoff, bringing the glass to his lips.

So that’s how the story’s being told.

It wasn’t surprising.

Not everyone could know the full truth as they did, and the royal house was no doubt controlling the narrative. If anything, it wouldn’t be strange for rumors to be shaped in their favor. And given the timing, even Fael likely hadn’t had the chance to grasp the full details yet.

Count’s expression twisted a beat too late. "What do you mean by that—"

"Plante opened its gates to him. That city stands with His Highness the Crown Prince," Thesaya answered.

Meeting the count’s gaze, she added with a faint, fairy-like smile, "And by now, there may be even more who do."

"By Lu Solar..."

A quiet exclamation slipped from the count.

Shock and disbelief spread across his gaunt face.

"Then are you saying His Highness has truly committed treason? That the madness beyond the Black Wall has corrupted even him?"

He looked as though he didn’t want to believe it.

Like many others, he likely remembered Hyked as the crown prince he once was. Perhaps he was even thinking of his own eldest son.

"Corrupted, yes. But still shining." Ian set down his empty glass.

The count flinched slightly and looked at him, as if suddenly recalling that Ian himself had returned from beyond the Wall.

"Beyond the Black Wall was a vast demonic realm. He defiled himself to protect those trapped there, and even after returning to the Empire, he hasn’t spilled a single drop of blood. That’s why the central elite forces haven’t made the first move," Ian said calmly, meeting the count’s widened eyes.

Then he gave a small shrug. "And didn’t His Majesty reject them first? That alone ensures this conflict won’t end easily."

"O Della Lu..." With a heavy sigh, the count finally shut his eyes.

He dragged a rough, farm-worn hand across his face. "So that’s why the royal house suddenly demanded so much grain. Now it makes sense. Even the capital expects this conflict to drag on."

Though his eyes remained closed, he had already regained his composure, his voice steadying considerably.

Ian nodded. "They’ll ask for more. It won’t end with one request. And when that happens, there may come a time when you no longer have enough to send."

"So you’re giving me justification for that moment."

"Exactly. If necessary, you can substitute it with funds instead." Ian shrugged again.

At last, the count let out a low breath of admiration. "Indeed. You possess both wisdom and magnanimity, Your Grace. I thought as much before, but..."

Opening his eyes, he smiled faintly at Ian. "Then I will not refuse. I will charge you the full market price, down to the last coin."

"Don’t concern yourself with the cost. Just make sure everything is prepared in full."

The count raised his glass in response and drained it in one go.

As Thesaya picked up the bottle and refilled his cup, Ian continued, "I plan to head to Wraith Mountain tomorrow. I’d appreciate it if everything is ready by the time I return. And if you could assign someone familiar with the area, even better."

Setting his glass down, the count answered, "There is a map of the western region. I’ll mark the route for you—following that should suffice."

As Ian gave a small nod, the count wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and added, "I wonder if this old body of mine will last until the war ends."

"You’re exaggerating. As I said, you look healthier than before." Ian let out a small chuckle, lifting his glass again.

Thesaya and Mev nodded in agreement.

But the count only shook his head.

"I won’t last more than a few years. I can feel the day I return to the soil drawing closer."

Still shaking his head, the count clicked his tongue.

"My only concern is whether I can rest easy leaving that foolish son behind. There’s still a mountain of things I need to teach him."

"In that case, all the more reason to focus on preparing your successor," Ian said simply, glancing at Thesaya before continuing, "This civil war is nothing more than a family feud in another house. The flames won’t reach here. As I told you before, don’t repeat something you’ll come to regret."

"I will keep that in mind, Your Grace," the count answered respectfully.

Ian knew it might sound presumptuous, but this time, it wasn’t just for the count’s sake.

"Well, you’re not the only one here with regrets," Ian added lightly.

At that, Thesaya and Mev both turned to the left. Nasser scratched his chin awkwardly under their gaze.

Before he could speak, the count let out a low scoff. "Just as you did with the bishop, you want to apologize to me as well, don’t you?"

Nasser’s eyes widened. "You already knew?"

"I may not be all-seeing, but I do have eyes and ears."

Before the words had even fully settled, Nasser shot to his feet. "Your Excellency, what happened back then—I sincerely—"

"It’s in the past." The count cut him off calmly. "I’ve already forgotten it. Already forgiven it. There’s no need to dwell on it or feel guilt."

In some ways, it almost sounded as though he was speaking to himself.

Looking up at Nasser, he gave a short snort. "Besides, if we’re being honest, I, too, fed you my share of lies."

"You sound just like Bishop Luce, Your Excellency." Nasser let out a small laugh and bent one knee. "Then allow me to offer my thanks instead. I am grateful for your generosity."

"You do have a talent for saying embarrassing things."

Clicking his tongue, the count rose to his feet.

"My schedule is not lenient, so I must take my leave. Your Grace, I’ll have the map prepared at once and sent over."

"Very well. I’ll make good use of it." Ian nodded.

After bowing once more to Thesaya and Mev, the count turned and left.

"Feels like I’ve washed away another sin," Nasser murmured, sitting back down.

Beyond the closed door, the sharp voice of the count calling his son’s name rang out.

Just as a faint smile curved across Ian’s lips, Thesaya blurted, "Wait! The gift you received from that great being wasn't just those golden wings, was it?"

Meeting Ian’s gaze, her eyes gleamed sharply as she continued, "That mountain—there’s a hidden treasure vault there. That’s what this is! It fits too perfectly."

Mev and Nasser both turned to Ian at once.

As Ian took another drink, the smile at the corner of his lips deepened.

Maybe I won’t have to explain after all.

After all, there really was a treasure hoard in that nest.

"I knew it! It had to be something like that!" Thesaya clenched her fist, convinced.

"Good heavens..." Mev let out a quiet gasp.

Nasser, equally wide-eyed, parted his lips. "Then, bringing my lord and me here—could it be?"

It was at that moment that Ian set down his empty glass and rose to his feet. As everyone’s attention snapped to him, he turned and started toward the door.

"Where are you going, my lord?" Nasser asked.

Without hesitation, Ian opened the door. "To bathe."

For now, that was the most urgent matter of all.