Ariane Castora.
Ian Balthazar’s former fiancée.
Her name is not mentioned in the game, and I have no memory of hearing it on the front lines either.
In other words, I am someone who only knows ‘Ian Balthazar’ without knowing anything more.
It was for this reason that I denied being Ian Balthazar.
I was originally not Ian Balthazar.
And I did not want to rely on that name.
I do not know what the past Ian did, but there’s no reason to carry the past’s filth along with me.
Because of this, when I enlisted, I did not write my surname and only wrote the name Ian.
Even until I introduced myself in the front lines, I continued this way.
Everyone who knows me on the front lines believes that I am a commoner named Ian.
Therefore, the one present here now is not Ian Balthazar but a person sharing the same name, Ian.
However, there is one question that I cannot let pass without thought.
Why did Ariane Castora not recognize Ian’s face?
If it was said that they broke off their engagement at 16, it has already been 11 years.
I have bulked up immensely and grown taller during that time, but the real face should not disappear.
‘Considering she said she couldn’t recognize me due to the scar… it means she didn’t completely fail to recognize me. Is there another reason?’
I mulled over what Ariane had muttered to herself.
‘There’s no way she could have died so easily.’
From the meaning of her words, one conclusion could be drawn.
The information that Ian Balthazar had died had spread.
The first person I thought of was Duke Baldir.
As the head of Nordelheim commanding the Northern Front, he would not have brushed off the issue of identity.
The Energy Accumulation Technique was the Empire’s exclusive property, and the Northern Front was the only shield protecting the continent.
There was no way he would permit an identity-unknown person on the front lines, yet the Duke did not closely verify my background or records.
‘Is it because he had already done a background check?’
It’s a speculation, but Duke Baldir spread the news that ‘Ian Balthazar’ was dead.
I don’t know why.
Whether it was because the original Ian Balthazar was known to be an irredeemable wastrel, or if there’s something more.
With no information available now, it’s impossible to know.
It wouldn’t even be possible to question the deceased Duke Baldir.
I returned to the banquet hall and stood once again next to Irene.
“Ian, you’re late.”
“I’m sorry. I got lost on the way. The Imperial Palace is quite vast.”
“If you’re going again next time, let me come along.”
“I’ll do that.”
Freya was having a conversation with another nobleman.
From her expression, it didn’t seem she was enjoying it much.
Her left hand, clenched into a fist, was shaking slightly.
Irene, watching this scene, chuckled.
“The Duchess looks like she’s having a hard time. Once you reach that position, you have to socialize with other nobles even if you don’t want to.”
No one approached us.
To be more precise, they could not come close even if they wanted to.
Irene was radiating her aura, spreading it around.
It was closer to an intangible energy than a physical form.
Although no harm would come from getting closer, ordinary people who had not mastered energy would feel a chilling sensation as soon as they approached.
“Are you not going, Irene?”
Irene swirled her wine glass.
The liquid inside spun around.
After taking a sip, she leaned against the window and stretched her body languidly.
“I’m not particularly interested, except for one person.”
Irene glanced at me and smiled.
For a moment, I was at a loss for words.
“…”
At that moment, a male noble approached Irene, piercing through her aura.
He exuded excessive confidence in his eyes and gestures.
He seemed to have somewhat mastered energy, with broad shoulders and a balanced physique.
However, before the intangible aura emitted by Irene, even his confidence faded gradually.
“Excuse me, Lady Irene.”
He wore a smile on his face and attempted to elegantly grasp her hand with a courteous gesture.
“You stand out even in this banquet hall. Would you like to accompany me to the next dance?”
Irene slowly and silently regarded the tip of his finger that had touched her hand, then slowly raised an eyebrow.
“Isn’t it the proper order to introduce yourself before doing such things?”
“Oh, my apologies.”
He awkwardly smiled and bowed his head.
“I am Sirius, the second son of Count Roizenkravel.”
“I see.”
Irene replied briefly and lifted her wine glass.
“I’ll remember that. Just in case we meet again.”
Sirius was unsure whether her words meant he would remember her or that he shouldn’t care, and awkwardly laughed.
He half-bowed with an elegant smile.
“Lady Irene, I’ve heard much about your exploits in the North.”
He raised his head and carefully continued speaking.
“You are even more striking than your tremendous achievements. And you are beautiful, Lady Irene.”
“…So?”
“Pardon?”
“Did you come to say that to me? Or to confirm my appearance in person?”
Sirius’s smile wavered slightly with a delay.
“No, that’s not it. I just thought there might be a chance to have a conversation with someone who has achieved great merits in battle in such a private setting—”
Irene cut him off and stepped forward.
“It seems you’ve mastered the Energy Accumulation Technique? Considering you managed to penetrate my aura and get this close.”
“…I’ve somewhat mastered it. I’ve even received formal training from the Knights Order.”
“Then you would understand that my aura is not merely a threat.”
Her laughter was short and sharp, like a cold shard of glass.
“Well, did you not know that?”
“I understand. It’s possible not to know. You’ve learned energy but never set foot in the North.”
“Did you learn energy for self-preservation? Or to seduce women and aim for social ascension?”
“Did you graduate from the Academy? That’s a mystery. If you had learned even a little common sense there, you would have refrained from such behavior.”
Sirius was flustered by Irene’s barrage of questions.
Even if he opened his mouth to defend himself, more questions, even more piercing, returned.
Though the questions were cleverly phrased from various angles, their meaning was the same.
If you were too scared to participate in the Northern Front, then get lost.
Sirius had no choice but to keep his mouth shut and retreat.
“…I apologize, Lady Irene. Have a dignified night.”
Sirius tried hard to hide the twitch in his cheeks and cast a meaningful glance at me.
It seemed he thought that my presence was the reason Irene had rejected him.
“Sir Ian. I understand that those who fought together in the North have strong bonds. But isn’t influence also important in the Central?” (Sirius)
“I’m not sure about that.”
“…If it is such a relation, then I must mention it could be temporary—”
A temporary relationship.
Not letting him finish, I abruptly grabbed his wrist.
Sirius swallowed hard at the sudden force applied to his abdomen without an aura.
“If you wish to die, there are many other ways to do it besides this.”
I whispered, applying transcendent strength cultivated from gripping a sword for 11 years upon Sirius.
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead in an instant.
His attempt to suppress a scream was a testament to Sirius’s ingenuity.
“If you wish, I will send you directly to the North. I will take a month.”
“Ian, I will take it in two weeks.”
Irene smiled pleasantly and stepped in front of me.
As soon as I released my grip, Sirius fled.
Tinkle. Tinkle.
A clear sound reminiscent of silver bells rang as the Emperor’s voice echoed from behind the veil at the center of the banquet hall.
“Now, I shall bestow awards to the heroes of war who have illuminated this event.”
The noise in the banquet hall immediately quieted down.
Nobles and generals all held their breath and focused on the Emperor’s voice.
The names of those who had fought on the Northern Front were called one by one.
Each face was familiar, individuals with whom I had spoken at least once and fought alongside.
With each name called, applause and tribute followed.
Then finally—
“And lastly, Ian.”
When that name rang out, the entire banquet hall seemed to inhale sharply and fell into silence before an avalanche of applause erupted.
I slowly walked to the front of the stage.
“Your merits are victories the entire Empire must remember.”
Beyond the curtain, the Emperor’s gesture was visible.
Then a courtier placed a sword right in the center of where I was walking.
An ornate sword with silver finishing in the style of the ancient Empire.
It was the highest distinction awarded to a war hero.
I lifted the sword, knelt down, and bowed my head.
“I will remember your honor in the name of the Empire.”
The Emperor’s gaze, clearly piercing through the elegant veil, was fixed on me.
The emotion contained within was neither admiration nor caution.
It was acknowledgment.
A gaze as if trying to memorize my face.
Just as applause was about to burst forth again, the Emperor opened his mouth as if the words were not finished.
“O hero who established the Empire. The Empire will grant you what you desire.”
