Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 108

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 108. Abandoned Village
“…I’m freezing to death.”
Berik muttered through chattering teeth, barely able to control his trembling body. It had seemed like a good idea to set out on horseback with such enthusiasm, but the bitter winter wind cut far more sharply than he’d anticipated. Walking would have been far preferable to this.
“When I catch those bastards who stole our things, they’re dead. Ugh. If only we’d come by carriage… then I wouldn’t be freezing like this, right?”
“If we had a carriage, we wouldn’t have come out here in the first place.”
“Ah. Right.”
Berik hadn’t thought of that, and continued sniffling constantly. Ian returned to the spot where he’d turned the carriage around and surveyed the surroundings. The only thing illuminating the area was the brilliant glow of moonlight.
“Berik. Where did you first see that dog?”
“A bit up that way. I went to take care of some business. Oh right. I didn’t bring a lantern.”
At his words, Ian blinked, as if questioning why he’d be worried about such a thing when he had a mage with him.
Zzzzzing.
“Stay close and don’t fall behind. It’s dark.”
“You can do that?”
“It’s basic magic. I’m just condensing mana and holding it.”
“Then why have you been using a lantern all this time?!”
“…If there’s a lantern available, one uses it. I thought you were only weak to heat, but it seems you’re weak to cold too. Judging by all the nonsense you keep spouting.”
Ian walked ahead with condensed mana, and bright light lingered then faded with each step he took. In the sleeping forest, there was nothing but the rustling of wind—not even the common sound of a cuckoo could be heard.
“Around here! This is the spot.”
“Mm.”
Upon reaching the familiar location, Berik cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted.
“You mutt! Come out here! Let’s finish that conversation from before!”
But all that returned was a faint echo. Ian gazed down the opposite side of the hill they’d climbed and gestured.
“I think we should venture into the village.”
“The village? Yeah. Let’s get out of this wind.”
A small path led directly to the village. If the dog had made its dwelling there, it could have come up this way without passing through the carriage road. Ian descended without hesitation, and Berik quickly followed suit.
Whoosh.
As Ian and Berik entered the village, they fell silent for a moment, struck by its eerie atmosphere. It felt as though any sound they made would immediately wake the residents.
The village was maintained so well that it didn’t seem like it had been abandoned for long.
“You said no one lives here?”
“That’s right. They said it was left to decay because demolition was difficult. But why are you lowering your voice so much?”
“I don’t know. It just feels like we’re breaking into someone’s home.”
According to the Ministry of Magic’s findings, the cause of the mass deaths was food poisoning. Perhaps because of this, the village showed no traces of combat or attack whatsoever.
“Berik.”
“Yeah?”
About halfway through their exploration of the village, Ian stopped in front of a single-story cottage. It was a small house with a quaint, charming feel. Ian tilted his head.
“Go inside.”
“Go inside here? Me?”
“Who else?”
Well, if ordered to do it, what choice did he have?
Berik gripped his sword tighter and stepped into the yard. He grasped the door handle and glanced back at Ian.
“But why here? I’d like to know the reason.”
I tilted my head gracefully, gazing down at Berik’s feet. There was an additional auxiliary door through which small animals could freely pass.
“This is the first house I’ve seen with a pet door.”
“Okay. I’m convinced. It’s exactly that mutt’s size. Should we open it?”
“It’s better to be cautious. He’s a suspicious character.”
Creak!
Despite my warning, Berik wrenched the door open with all his might. He immediately drew his sword and took a defensive stance, but it was disappointingly empty.
“There’s nothing here?”
“Let’s have a look. If we search around, something should turn up.”
Berik flopped onto the sofa and glanced around the house. There was no musty smell, but it was indeed clean. He suddenly noticed a photograph hanging on the wall—an elderly man with white hair and a boy with blue hair, both smiling brightly.
“Ian. Look at this. It seems someone lived here.”
I narrowed my eyes and frowned. Setting aside the uncommon blue hair, those ears were distinctly pointed, weren’t they? Judging by their clothing and overall appearance…
-You bastards!
“Kyaaaah!”
Suddenly, a strange yet familiar voice rang out. Berik was so startled he convulsed and jumped to his feet, while I calmly turned around. A dog sat there confidently.
-You barge into someone’s home and show such disrespect!
“Maybe give a warning before you appear, huh?”
-What a rude intruder, and a talkative one at that!
I noticed the voice was oddly youthful. I set the photograph down on the table and called to the dog.
“Are you a guardian spirit living here? The people in the photograph seem to be the owners. They look quite pleasant.”
The dog maintained a stern expression and remained motionless. But that wagging tail couldn’t be hidden.
“I apologize for the rudeness that occurred earlier today.”
“I’m the one who got bitten, so why are you apologizing on your behalf?”
“I heard you wanted to spare some time. Is there perhaps something you wish to ask of me? I also have questions for you. I believe this could be a meaningful exchange for us both.”
I ignored Berik’s words lightly and made my proposal. As the dog, who had been listening silently, began to move slowly, its shadow stretched in the moonlight.
‘…A human’s shadow.’
Though it wore the form of a dog, its shadow was that of a person.
I realized the situation was becoming more complicated than expected. It wasn’t a curse on the guardian spirit or the dog itself—a soul was dwelling within it.
-Before that, I need to confirm something. What is your connection to the Ministry of Magic?
Hostility resonated in the tone as the words “Ministry of Magic” were spoken. I answered preemptively before Berik could say anything.
“I am a mana user, but I am not affiliated with the Ministry of Magic. Rather, it would be accurate to say I walk a different path from them.”
The dog’s eyes narrowed. The very fact that I was a mana user seemed to irritate him. I deliberately held up the photograph to redirect the conversation.
“Are the owners perhaps from Astana?”
When hostility was overt, finding that opening was crucial. I hadn’t missed how the dog’s tail wagged when I mentioned the owners earlier.
-You know of Astana!?
The moment I mentioned Astana directly, the dog’s eyes widened. It seemed remarkable to him that someone in Bariel would know of Astana.
“Yes. From the blue hair and the style of dress, I can tell. I’ve heard much about how beautiful that country is, and I’ve long wished to visit it.”
The tail wagged even more vigorously.
It seemed handling him wouldn’t be as difficult as I thought.
“Is it true that those who dwell in a gorge so distant it’s called the end of the world are more leisurely than clouds and more natural than the wind?”
-That’s the truth! You know a thing or two, don’t you!
The dog couldn’t contain its excitement and bounded up repeatedly. Before I knew it, I’d landed on Ian’s lap. Ian gripped my body firmly and smiled warmly.
“And I’ve inherited necromancy as my tradition.”
-Ah.
“Let’s discuss this in detail. I’m Ian, and you’re Berik.”
Ian pondered how to shake hands, then gently grasped the dog’s front paw and shook it lightly. I worried he might dislike it, but surprisingly, the dog seemed satisfied with the courtesy.
-Hasha and Tokunda. Call me Hasha.
“Pleased to meet you, Hasha. First, let me ask—how did you suspect I was connected to the Ministry of Magic? Did you see me use magic?”
-Yes. I saw it with the eyes of the undead.
“So it was yours after all. Then are you a thief as well?”
-That’s absurd!
“Then your master is a thief?”
-No! I’m the boy in the photograph!
At the dog’s words, Berik examined the photograph carefully again. Then, as if finding it ridiculous, he stretched out the dog’s cheeks.
“But why does this mutt talk like that? How old are you? About ten years old?”
-Let go! Why do you count the days you’ve been alive every single day?
“This is crazy. You little runt. Remember when you asked me earlier? Come here. Since you have four legs, three should be enough, right? Huh?”
“Berik. Astana walks through time differently than we do. With a typical lifespan of three hundred years, this appearance would make him about thirty years old.”
At Ian’s words, Berik stopped stretching the dog’s cheeks. The dog growled indignantly and bared its teeth, then bit the back of Berik’s hand again.
Snap!
“Ow! Damn it!”
-Even by this measure, my teeth are identical to a tiger’s!
Ian barely separated the two excited beasts and quickly changed the subject.
“But Hasha, if you’re from Astana, how did you end up here? And what about that form?”
At the question, Hasha’s growling subsided. As if retracing memories in detail, the black eyes gleamed in the moonlight. It seemed like quite a long story.
-She called herself Wesley. That woman.
“The Minister of Magic, Wesley?”
The lover of Prince Gail and the current head of the Ministry of Magic—the woman’s name was indeed Wesley. At this unexpected yet certain mention, Ian couldn’t hide his surprise.
-An invitation came to Astana for the purpose of cultural and academic exchange. My grandmother was the leader of the largest faction in Astana, and under the king’s orders, she brought me to Bariel.
At first, everything was novel and entertaining.
I learned that buildings existed as tall as towering cliffs, and I discovered that the wind howling against the rocks could be drowned out by human voices.
But the joy didn’t last long.
-Wesley proposed testing necromancy on the living. She kept forcing my grandmother to do something that should never happen.
“I don’t understand. Explanation needed from Ian or this mutt.”
Berik asked while scratching his ear. It was natural—necromancy, the undead, words he’d never heard in his life. Ian muttered to himself, organizing his thoughts.
“Necromancy is fundamentally meant to be cast on corpses. Casting it on a living person isn’t a matter of life and death—it defies the natural order, so no one knows what might happen.”
-The foundation of misfortune and the source of annihilation. Ahem! My grandmother was different from other sorcerers—she was wise.
Faced with Wesley’s unreasonable proposal, they fled. I don’t know why they didn’t return to Astana and came to the provinces instead, but I can only assume there were circumstances warranting it.
Ian stroked Hasha’s nape and asked.
“I see. I roughly understand why Hasha is here now. When you mention other sorcerers, it means Wesley continues to research necromancy, doesn’t it?”
-Those obsessed with necromancy have always brought blood and war in their wake.
Surprisingly quick-witted. He was preparing a rebellion, so my conjecture proved reasonably accurate. Yet in the history of Bariel that I remembered, there was no mention of the undead in Prince Gail’s rebellion specifically.
“So? What happened after that?”
At my question, the tail that had been swishing came to an abrupt halt. He clearly remembered that day when all the villagers perished.
-Wesley eventually found us.
From that brief answer, I could infer much. In Hasha’s gleaming eyes, traces of the past flickered like shadows.
-And she finally confirmed what happens when necromancy is cast upon the living. I am the proof of that.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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