As the count unconsciously raised a brow, the closed door opened.

"My apologies for the interruption, Agent of the Saint. Please excuse us..." Fael entered with a strained voice, followed by heavy footsteps.

Fael, teeth clenched, and Oscar, the large gray-striped beastfolk, stepped inside, carrying a massive metal chest gripped between them.

Even at a glance, it was obvious that the chest was far heavier than it looked.

The count’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"You could’ve taken your time," Ian said with a chuckle.

Fael shook his head as he struggled forward. "We couldn’t keep our guests waiting. My apologies, Your Excellency."

With care, he lowered the chest beside the count.

Unlike Oscar, whose expression hadn’t changed in the slightest, Fael exhaled deeply through his nose as he straightened.

Once Mev quietly closed the door behind them, Fael asked cautiously, "Shall we open it right away?"

Ian tilted his head slightly toward the chest. "Go ahead."

"Yes."

As the count turned his gaze back, Oscar dropped to one knee, deftly unfastened the latches, and lifted the lid with both hands.

The count gasped, "Huh."

Gold coins and ornaments filled the chest to the brim. Intricately cut gemstones glittered among them.

For a moment, it felt as though the entire room had brightened.

Still staring into the chest, the count muttered hoarsely, "This is hardly what I’d call a little..."

"That depends on perspective," said Ian, his voice tinged with amusement.

The count turned, puzzled.

Ian shrugged. "You accepted my request without a moment’s hesitation. Even if you felt indebted, that wasn’t an easy decision in times like these. You deserve compensation befitting that."

"Even so, I cannot accept this much, Your Grace. Taking only half would more than cover the additional grain I provided." The count frowned. If anything, this would only deepen his debt.

Fael and Oscar glanced between them, clearly unable to follow.

Ian, however, continued without the slightest hesitation. "You already know it will take a long time to receive payment from the royal house. And you’re planning a land reclamation project as well. With sufficient funds, it would be much easier to establish your son’s reputation."

"That is true, but..." The count faltered.

There was nothing incorrect about it. And yet, accepting it would go directly against the principles he had always upheld.

"You really are impossibly stubborn." Thesaya let out a soft sigh.

The count paused and turned.

She set down her cup and rose to her feet. "His Grace just said it himself, didn’t he? Value is relative."

Then, she removed her hood and drew back her cloak.

The count’s eyes widened instantly at the sight: a delicate golden wing circlet rested among her silver hair, and her robe shimmered with a mystical light, flowing past her knees.

Even at a glance, they were treasures beyond ordinary measure.

Spreading her hands in presentation, Thesaya continued, "Do you really think what I’m wearing now is worth less than what’s inside that chest?"

Every finger bore a slender gold ring. Fine golden chains linked them across the back of her hands, connecting to small golden loops. More chains wrapped around her wrists like bracelets, all intricately interwoven.

"His Grace is preparing for the chaos to come. He’s willing to give away even treasures like these, not just to me, but to everyone who stands with him," added Thesaya, her gaze shifting sideways.

Fael and Oscar, catching her look, both nodded in agreement.

Turning back to face the count, Thesaya let a cold smile settle on her lips. "And from what I can see, Count, you’re one of those people as well. So are you really going to cling to your stubbornness and refuse to honor His Grace’s generosity?"

For a brief moment, the count simply stared at her, holding his breath.

"Just what..." His lips moved in a quiet exhale before he finally turned to Ian. "What exactly was hidden in that Mist Valley?"

"Treasures bestowed by the great being were sleeping there," Ian replied casually, sipping his drink.

The offhand tone only made the weight of his words sink in deeper.

Setting down his cup, Ian met the count’s eyes and said, "I imagine that great being would be pleased to see me supporting a mud-stained noble devoted to Della Lu, all for the sake of stability in the West."

At last, the count closed his mouth, swallowed once, and bowed his head. "I will accept it—with gratitude. May the blessings of abundance fall upon the great Platinum Dragon and its agent."

Thesaya, now covering herself again with her cloak, let out a soft snort as she sat back down, pulling her hood up once more.

"Giving is harder than receiving," Ian muttered, shaking his head lightly before turning to Fael. "Since he’s accepted, see that it’s transported as is."

"Yes, Agent of the Saint. The guests’ belongings are already being loaded. And Father Miguel asked if he may return to the estate once he finishes his work," Fael answered promptly, gesturing subtly to Oscar. "He plans to head to the church with Sir Nasser after a quick wash."

"I see. Count, is there anything else you wish to say?" Ian asked after a brief pause.

The count shook his head without hesitation. "Nothing beyond my gratitude, Your Grace. If anything, I should be the one asking."

"I... yes, there is one thing." Ian picked up his cup again, a faint smile touching his lips. "Could you prepare a covered carriage? Some of my companions will be parting ways here."

"Of course. I’ll also provide two fine-bred horses. Please don’t refuse," the count replied immediately.

Having only incurred an even greater debt while attempting to repay the first, the count resolved that if there were anything he could offer, he would.

"Excellent." Ian drained the rest of his drink, closed the lid of the chest, and rose to his feet, glancing at Oscar, who stood ready. "Then let’s head back together."

"I hope you won’t mind riding in a cargo wagon," Thesaya added, rising to her feet. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

The count snorted and rose as well. "My joints aren’t rusted to that extent just yet, Elder. I’ll manage for a few more years, at least."

"Then I suppose I’ll have to visit again in a few years, just so I can make fun of you then."

At that, not only Fael and Oscar, but even Ian turned to look at her, brows faintly furrowed.

However, Thesaya didn’t spare them a glance. She simply smiled faintly, her eyes gleaming with playful mischief as she looked at the count.

After watching her for a moment, the count let out a quiet laugh and turned away.

"Then I suppose I’ll have to endure—if only to avoid that fate," said the count. Privately, he added to himself that no one matched a fairy when it came to wit.

***

"Now I can finally breathe."

Having changed into the clean clothes laid out on the bed, Ian let out a light, relieved sigh. He ran a hand through his still-damp hair, tousling it dry.

It had been nearly ten days since he’d had a proper meal and a proper bath.

I should’ve just snuck into the hot spring back at the nest...

The thought surfaced again, one he’d already had several times on the way here.

With a quiet exhale, Ian walked over to the window, reaching for the bottle on the side table. Outside, the rooftops of the city lay beneath a clear blue sky, where the sun slowly tilted westward. There was still some time before it would be dyed red.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

Drawing the bottle toward him with the Willful Grasp, Ian perched against the window frame and smiled faintly.

By now, the others were likely either fast asleep after their baths or dragging their tired bodies through whatever work remained.

Ian didn’t bother wondering further.

Lifting the bottle, he drank straight from it, taking in the view of the sky and the city. It was the first real moment of quiet he’d had in a while.

After all, the entire journey back had been filled with Thesaya and the others' relentless, exaggerated tales.

That whole golden demigod nonsense...

The reverent looks from Bor and the guards had been nearly as irritating as the stiff saddle. He had no intention whatsoever of becoming some new god of this world.

Even now, having grown used to this place, having things he cared about, what he wanted hadn’t changed: to return to his original world and live an ordinary, peaceful life.

Dangerous battles, death always close at hand, grotesque monsters, twisted schemes, and even the watchful gaze of gods—this world offered nothing that didn’t wear a person down.

Becoming an emperor or a god here held far less appeal than living quietly as an ordinary person back home.

To do that, I’ll have to...

He needed to see this story through to its ending. Even now, after all this time, that was still the only clue to getting back. And in his estimation, the game’s ending wasn’t far off. It was likely tied directly to the conclusion of the ongoing civil war.

Perhaps that was why his foresight never extended beyond it.

And if not, I guess I’ll just have to start hunting down gods one by one.

Whether that was even possible, he wasn’t sure. Taking another drink, Ian let his gaze drift to the opposite wall.

Below it sat the ornate chest brought in from the carriage. By now, there was probably new information waiting in the Scroll of Correspondence tucked away inside.

However, he didn’t move to check it just yet. Footsteps approached beyond the closed door, growing clearer by the second.

Judging by the rhythm, it was Nasser.

A knock followed, along with Nasser’s voice.

"My lord. Are you resting?"

Right on cue.

Setting the bottle down on the window frame, Ian replied, "No. Come in."

"Excuse me." Nasser entered, closing the door quietly behind him as he removed his hood.

"So, did you meet Bishop Luce?" Ian asked.

"Yes. He asked me to tell you he’s relieved you returned safely." Nasser stepped closer as he answered, his tone calm as usual—though slightly lowered.

Ian continued, pretending not to notice. "And?"

"He said the solar eclipse in the South isn’t far off—at the soonest, three months; at most, five."

"Three to five months..." Ian nodded lightly, picking up the bottle again.

That’s a wider range than I expected.

Still, it was enough time for Thesaya to reach the South and warn Duke Jihandar.

"And... he also said to be careful," Nasser added in a near whisper, his lips barely moving, clearly wary of being overheard.

Ian glanced at him and took another drink. "Seems writing a report to the capital wasn’t enough."