Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 123

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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 123. Magical Power Verification Ceremony
Though I rarely found myself at a loss for words, my speech came to an abrupt halt.
Twins? Had they been different genders or even fraternal twins, this wouldn’t have happened. Even from a distance, the two princes looked identical, as if gazing into a mirror.
“Surprising, isn’t it? According to rumors, even their mother, Deilaina, sometimes confuses them. But their personalities are so different that it’s not really a problem. I can tell them apart the moment I see them.”
“What are their names?”
I continued searching my memory as I asked. A hundred years ago—was there an Emperor with twin brothers? I couldn’t quite recall. When it came to the Emperor’s siblings, they were typically losers in historical power struggles, so they were often deliberately excluded from records.
“Prince 4 goes by Arcen. Prince 5 uses the name Jin.”
At Romandro’s murmur, I frowned. Usually with twins, their names share some unity, but anyone could see that Arcen was a noble name, while Jin was the sort of name commoners used.
“I know what you’re curious about. But the location here….”
“Please step outside for a moment.”
This wasn’t something to hear later. One of these two would definitely become Emperor, so there was no need to delay.
At my glance, Romandro caught on and quietly stepped back. Berik did the same.
“Excuse us.”
They exited through the massive arched entrance into the corridor opposite. Unlike the grand banquet hall, this area was filled with relatively young and dissolute nobles who had no interest in the Emperor’s New Year address, enjoying social pleasantries. A few glanced at me with curiosity, but that was all. They focused on enjoying themselves, teasing one another and having a good time.
“Oh look. They’re kissing over there.”
“Berik, stop talking nonsense and come here. Romandro, I know this is an irreverent question, but is the current Emperor indeed the 13th?”
According to my memory, he should be. I clearly recalled the characters “Beroshion, 13th Emperor” written beneath the portrait. But Romandro turned his head awkwardly and glanced around.
“Choose your words more carefully. That matter was only recently settled. The current Emperor is the 14th.”
I let out a small sigh. I immediately understood what Romandro meant. There was such a vast difference between observing history from a distant future and living within it.
“When the previous Emperor passed away due to his predecessor’s treason, his father’s legitimacy was recognized. So until last year he was the 13th, but now he is the 14th.”
When power is seized, history is often rewritten to justify it. Especially as branches diverge further, those in power wish to be recognized as legitimate heirs for political standing. But since one cannot change the blood flowing through one’s veins, history must be rewritten instead.
“What are you talking about? Did he find hidden parents or something?”
Berik scratched his ear, clearly confused. The Emperor hadn’t died and been reborn, so how could he be the 13th one moment and the 14th the next? I pressed my forehead and answered as if muttering to myself.
“History changes meaning depending on who writes it. It means removing a predecessor from the throne or restoring him to it. The current Emperor is the 14th, but just as he was the 13th last year, who knows what he’ll be next year.”
Either way, it suggested that standing in the midst of history’s currents, one cannot gauge the depth of the storm. One can only feel one’s way forward by instinct.
‘When I received my appointment as lord in the borderlands, I had already heard the Emperor’s name but didn’t know it. I suspect the same will be true for the next one as well….’
“But why do the twin princes have such different names?”
I asked, trying to organize my complicated thoughts. Arcen and Jin—there seemed to be a clue hidden in those names with their stark difference in tone.
“When the twins were born, an oracle was delivered.”
“An oracle? A formal one?”
“Yes. The details are recorded in the archives. It was ten years ago, but it caused quite a stir at the time.”
So the princes are ten years old. I nodded, gesturing for him to continue. Romandro lowered his voice and whispered between his teeth.
“The child born later will bring great calamity upon the child born first.”
“…!”
My eyes widened. Though the oracle left room for interpretation as oracles do, it felt like a significant milestone to me. Romandro twisted his beard and made an awkward sound.
“So as infants, the two of them couldn’t even share the same bedroom. There was concern it might lead to a power struggle later, but since Prince Marib and Prince Gail are already grown and holding their ground, that worry seems unfounded. In any case, they were given ordinary names so that demons wouldn’t meddle.”
It was based on the superstition that if one lived hidden among ordinary names, one could avoid a demon’s tricks. After all, once either Marib or Gail became the next Emperor, Arcen and Jin were destined to live as if dead.
“But as with all oracles, they’re not always accurate, are they? After ten years of observation, it seems to be completely wrong.”
“Is that so?”
“From childhood, they received thorough education, and Prince Jin takes excellent care of and cherishes Prince Arcen. He shows respect and affection without hesitation. Sometimes it feels as though their roles as older and younger brother are reversed.”
As a result, Arcen, the older brother, maintained his bright and vibrant personality, always wearing a smile, while Jin, the younger brother, exuded a calm, composed, and dignified demeanor. Though their faces were identical, everyone in the imperial court had no difficulty distinguishing between the two.
“I see.”
I decided I should meet the two princes at least once, and turned my body. The music from the imperial orchestra flowing from deeper within was growing louder. I could infer that the Emperor’s speech had concluded and the peerage appointment ceremony had ended, leaving a brief gap in the schedule.
“Let us go inside. We can discuss the details at the mansion later.”
“Details? Isn’t what we’ve discussed so far already detailed?”
What else could he be curious about? Romandro scratched his chin, but I simply nodded and took the lead. Berik followed right beside me and laughed.
Tap, tap, tap!
“Ian. But—”
“Master.”
“Ah. Master. But, what about dinner?”
“Still a long way off. The dinner party won’t begin until after the mana verification ceremony concludes.”
Berik’s expression turned shocked—apparently the fact that dinner was far away mattered more than the correction of his form of address. He should have eaten a heartier meal beforehand. It was a mistake to have listened to the advice to eat lightly for the sake of appearance in his formal uniform.
Whoosh.
When I returned to the banquet hall, the atmosphere had certainly changed. The Emperor and the princes had gone up to the second floor to observe the remaining schedule, the music had become even more lively, and the spirits’ movements had become increasingly busy.
“Viscount Ian Hielo.”
At that moment, a voice called me from behind. When I turned around, a man in the Ministry of Magic’s uniform was respectfully bowing his head. He appeared to be an administrative official overseeing the event for the Ministry of Magic.
“I wish to explain the mana verification ceremony that will take place shortly. Please come this way. Minister Wesley will speak to you directly.”
Wesley. Prince Gail’s lover and the head of the Ministry of Magic. From what I knew, all the current misdeeds revolved around Wesley at the center. I gestured to Berik to follow me.
“Yes. Let’s go. Lead the way.”
“Yes. This way.”
As I turned behind the platform, I could immediately recognize the woman called Wesley. Her black hair was tied back in a single knot, her skin was pale to the point of being ghostly, and her lips were as red as if painted with blood. Above all, she wore a cape that only a minister could wear.
“Good day to you, Minister Wesley.”
She, who had been directing the verification ceremony, turned around. And the moment she saw me, her lips twisted into a strange smile. It was beautiful, certainly, but the subtle pressure emanating from her was tremendous. Perhaps it felt that way because I knew Wesley’s true nature so well.
“Ho! And who might this be? A noble of lowborn bastard origin from the borderlands. Viscount Ian Hielo?”
Wesley clapped her hands and raised her voice loudly. The mages around her also glanced over, barely suppressing their snickers and laughter. Berik frowned irritably, but when his gaze met mine, he patiently gazed toward the distant mountains.
“Delighted to meet you, Minister Wesley. If I may be so bold, would you tell me your family name?”
I smiled without concern, offering Wesley a handshake. It was an attack that dug into the fact that most mages were of commoner origin. No matter how much she wore a title in the imperial palace, Wesley would have no family name to speak of.
Her lips hardened sharply, and the laughter around her instantly faded away.
“Viscount Ian Hielo. I hold the position of minister, equivalent to a court count.”
It was not an actual peerage, but it meant she possessed honor and authority equivalent to it. I skillfully withdrew my hand and smiled.
“Ah. My apologies. I was ignorant and mistakenly thought I had not heard Minister Wesley’s name.”
The implication was that she had no family name to speak of. I did not avoid the mages’ blatant and hostile gazes; I met each one head-on. There was no reason for me to back down.
“If you carry yourself so proudly and then fall into slavery, it would be quite a sight to see.”
“How kind of you to worry about such things. The Minister of Magic is quite compassionate, contrary to the rumors.”
I had no concern about my status declining due to inability to pay the ten thousand rial contribution. Rather, because of it, my status had become free, so was this not something to be grateful for?
If that were the case, joining the Ministry of Magic would be entirely my choice.
‘Setting aside Prince Marib’s orders and the construction of the annex and such.’
Wesley stared down at me, her eyes sharpening. She found the sight of this small child, having received a noble title, acting so arrogantly utterly distasteful.
“Ian. The mana verification ceremony will proceed shortly. Therefore, if we confirm that mana flows through your body, an official request to join the Ministry of Magic will be sent tomorrow.”
“Oh. It is an honor, Minister.”
“How tediously conventional. Do you have a preferred department in mind?”
Wesley’s lips twisted into a smile. It was clear she was scheming something behind those eyes. Ian chose silence over an answer, instead studying the atmosphere among the mages around her, including Wesley herself.
‘She’s definitely plotting something. Could it be what I anticipated?’
“Well, a country bumpkin fresh off the farm wouldn’t know anything, would you? You’d need someone beside you to tell you the answer.”
She meant Prince Marib. She was signaling that she knew all about Prince Marib planting Ian as a spy.
“However, the Magic Department values results based on ability above all else. We don’t tolerate mediocrity sitting around wasting taxes. I’m not sure what your magical power is like, but you’ll be assigned to a department befitting that level.”
Ian couldn’t help but smile slightly. It was exactly what he’d anticipated upon entering the New Year Conference. Placing a bet on the Oracle’s light to show no reaction.
“I see.”
Ian responded with feigned innocence, but Berik standing beside him caught the hint of laughter in his voice.

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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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