Chapter 836
As the booming voice continued, the corner of Ian’s mouth twitched.
He didn’t have to try that hard.
Though others might not have noticed, Ian saw the cold sweat beading across Miguel’s forehead and nose. His complexion was sallow as well. The seasickness hadn’t passed; he was forcing himself to endure it.
Of course, the twitch in Miguel’s eyes was not only from discomfort.
No one, neither on the fortress wall nor on the ships, lowered their weapons or kneeled.
They merely frowned or tilted their heads, glancing back at Miguel. Even Hector reacted the same way.
Then again, it wasn’t exactly surprising.
"Before you is the savior of the frontier, the bearer of the ember who reignited the brazier of the Blazing Goddess! The final executioner of the Giant Kingdom, the Dragon Slayer who pierced the heart of an evil dragon! The destroyer of the vampire clan, the purifier of the western lands—"
That was likely why Miguel started speaking again.
So he’s starting from there.
Unconsciously narrowing his eyes, Ian shifted his gaze back to the fortress. At that very moment, Hector was staring back at him with visible surprise.
"The godslayer who struck down the manifested avatar of chaos, the returner from the demonic realm of the Black Lands. The benefactor of the southern fairies, the true Great Warrior of the beastfolk of both North and South. The guardian of the continent who has subdued the archdemons of jungle and desert, the deep sea and the snowfields!"
Even as Ian and Hector exchanged looks, Miguel’s voice carried on without pause.
There was no rasp in his throat, no stuttering—his pronunciation was sharp and precise.
"Huh..."
The archipelago soldiers all turned to stare at Ian, mouths hanging open.
That alone was enough to make Ian click his tongue again.
Miguel wasn’t one for anything grand. Knowing his personality, Ian had expected him to keep it short and to the point.
"Furthermore, the judge of the fallen Gray Magic Tower and its new master. The official Agent of that great Platinum Dragon, the heavenly envoy who spreads blessings and grace—"
However, contrary to his expectations, Miguel seemed to have chosen to prepare as thoroughly as possible. If anything, the list was only getting longer.
"The master of the divine sword imbued with the grace of two goddesses, the ruler of demonic swords and beasts! The new heir of the Empire who inherits the sacred bloodline, the chosen one who rejected revelation and stood alone—!"
His voice even rose higher, as though he had gained confidence. Extending his prosthetic arm to the side as if swinging it, Miguel pointed at Ian and shouted as though he might cough up blood.
"The rightful ruler of the North, the golden demigod who does not reign! His Grace, Archduke Ian Hope—"
"What?"
When Sanford belatedly gasped in shock, Miguel’s breathing abruptly cut off, as if sliced clean through.
Ian raised a brow and glanced to the side.
Beyond Sanford, who stood staring with his mouth wide open, Miguel came into view—his lips tightly pressed together, his body trembling.
It was enough to make Ian stifle a laugh.
Figures... he was getting worked up.
It was obvious he was suppressing the nausea rising in his throat with all his strength. Otherwise, there was no reason for the veins in his neck to stand out like that.
Still, there was no need for Ian to step in.
Charlotte, who had been glaring at the wall with her hands clasped behind her back, stepped forward and declared sharply, "From this moment on, any act of disrespect shall be deemed blasphemy!"
A low, resonant hum laced her words, causing the golden ornaments on her relic armor to gleam for an instant.
"Lower your weapons at once and kneel to welcome the Golden Demigod!"
As Charlotte bared her fangs and added the command, a chorus of metallic sounds rang out behind Ian. It was the fairies and beastfolk gathered on the smuggling ship’s deck, all dropping to one knee at once.
"Let there be light in the highest heavens!"
"Victory to the Golden Demigod!"
Cries followed, similar in meaning if not in exact wording. At least for this moment, they seemed united.
"Glory to the radiant light!"
It was enough to make the smuggling ship’s captain and crew, who had been awkwardly standing, as well as the soldiers on the ships and the fortress, collapse to their knees.
The only ones still standing were Hector Drapier and his adjutant, Theodore Turner.
Of course, both were staring at Ian, their eyes filled with shock and doubt. Ian met their gaze without flinching.
For a brief moment, the sound of waves crashing against the hull filled the silence.
At last, Hector stepped forward with a slight limp and bowed respectfully in the Imperial manner. "I am Hector Drapier, the rightful ruler of Milav, an apostle of the capricious goddess, and one recognized by the royal house and the Great Church."
It seemed he had finally accepted that Miguel’s introduction was true.
As Theodore finally dropped to one knee and lowered his head, Hector added, "I had long heard of your great reputation, but with only one eye, I failed to recognize you at once. Please forgive my discourtesy, Your Grace."
"No need for that. You may rise," Ian replied lightly.
Hector rose without hesitation, a faint, curious smile still lingering on his lips.
After a brief moment of studying Ian, he said, "Your identity has been confirmed. However, there are still inspection procedures that must be completed—"
"How dare—" Just as Charlotte growled, Ian raised his left hand to stop her.
Charlotte halted, wrinkling the bridge of her nose before bowing her head.
Ian then turned back to Hector. "If it’s the procedure, then I’ll cooperate. Proceed."
"Yes. If you truly came here to aid us... How did you learn of the archipelago’s situation from the mainland?"
At the question, Ian shrugged lightly and answered, "I didn’t know the exact situation. I still don’t. The only thing I knew was that the archipelago had fallen to corruption."
Of course, he had no intention of bringing up foresight. There were too many ears around, and he could explain the situation just fine without mentioning it.
As Hector’s gaze narrowed, Ian continued, "As you know, I subdued the archdemon of the deep sea in their stead. I had merely resolved that one day I would make the rulers of the archipelago pay the price for their corruption. When I stopped by Racliffe on other business, I heard a troubling rumor. It wasn’t something I could simply ignore."
Ian briefly glanced at Elia, then faced forward, tilting his head slightly toward Sanford.
"So I asked Captain Sanford of the Black Wave for help. And the captain gave me some unexpected advice. He said there might be a lord here who hadn’t fallen to corruption."
Under Hector’s gaze, Sanford flinched and blurted it out, his shoulders jerking. "Th-That’s true."
He glanced at Ian as if seeking permission belatedly.
When Ian gave a slight nod, he finally continued, "Agent of the Saint originally intended to storm into another lord’s territory without hesitation. Instead, I brought him to you, sir. I told him you would never have fallen to corruption—and that you would surely lend him your strength."
It wasn’t entirely accurate.
Ian could tell Sanford had caught on; he had been given a chance to settle his debt.
"I see... that does explain why you came here directly."
As Sanford let out a quiet breath of relief, Ian simply nodded.
Hector, who had by then turned his gaze toward the smuggling ships, said, "But I see no signs of battle anywhere. As you know, beyond that point, the currents cease, the winds do not blow, and corrupted pirates run rampant."
"We were simply lucky."
At Ian’s blunt reply, Hector paused and looked down at him again. "Lucky?"
Meeting his gaze without flinching, Ian continued calmly, "Some fools were throwing fireballs around while fleeing. The corrupted pirates and sea creatures chased after them instead of us. Thanks to that, we passed through the doldrums without trouble."
"Fireballs?" Hector blinked, then suddenly burst into laughter. "Good heavens! Those must be our deserters—cowards who fled under the excuse of patrol! To think those ungrateful bastards ended up helping me!"
He slapped his thigh, laughing heartily, tears even forming at the corners of his eye as he looked back at Ian.
"Then truly, it was Lu Logis who guided you here! O capricious goddess, may you ever smile upon us!"
So that’s how it is.
A faint chuckle touched Ian’s lips. It was the exact kind of reaction that confirmed his suspicions all along.
He watched Hector shaking his head and laughing for a moment before adding, "Any more questions?"
"That will be enough! Welcome to Villanueva, Your Grace!"
Wiping the bloody tears flowing beneath his eyepatch, Hector turned his head sharply and shouted, "Did you not hear me? Open the way at once! These are those who have come to help us. Treat them with the utmost respect! Move!"
The sailors sprawled across the deck sprang up as if launched by a spring. The surroundings quickly grew chaotic.
Even the soldiers kneeling atop the walls began to withdraw, still keeping their heads lowered, while the distant docks grew busy.
"Shall we pull back the ship as well, Your Grace?" Sanford asked in a low voice as he turned, raising an eyebrow at Ian with a faint smile—clearly grateful for the chance to settle his debt.
Ian let out a quiet scoff and gave a small nod.
Sanford immediately moved, shouting, "Hashim! Reverse the oars! Prepare to disembark!"
"Dock at the nearest pier, Your Grace! I will come down personally to escort you!" Hector’s voice followed.
When Ian gave another slight nod, Hector chuckled and turned, limping away. His adjutant, Theodore, cast Ian a peculiar glance before following behind.
Charlotte and Elia, meeting Ian’s gaze, both nodded.
It was a silent reassurance—telling him to go on and meet Hector without concern.
Swoosh—
As Ian smiled, the Black Wave slowly drifted backward.
Turning to the right, Ian lifted a brow slightly.
Miguel was once again leaning over the bow railing, his upper body hanging out. He seemed to have rushed there the moment things turned chaotic.
Lily, who had been mechanically patting his back, turned her gaze toward Ian.
Pointing at Miguel with his index finger, Ian gave a thumbs-up and jerked his chin. "Tell him he did well."
Lily nodded expressionlessly, her hand never stopping its rhythmic patting of Miguel's back.
Letting out a soft laugh, Ian turned his gaze back to the receding fortress.
Then now...
Though a faint smile lingered on his lips, his eyes, fixed on the empty spire, cooled in an instant.
It’s my turn to ask questions.