Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 14

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

Chapter 14. Training Ground
The Count and Countess’s quarrel echoed through the manor until dawn broke. As a result, the following morning saw only Chel and Ian in the dining hall. Chel entered with a weary body and hesitated, his eyes darting about.
“Good morning, brother.”
“…”
Ian greeted him first, but no response came. I couldn’t fathom why Father and Mother’s seats remained empty.
“They seem to be running late today. Shall we go ahead and eat? Please, have a seat.”
Facing each other was already uncomfortable, and now he wanted me to eat too? Would I get indigestion this early in the morning? As Chel tried to slip away, Ian caught him with a low voice.
“Must I pull out your chair for you as well?”
“Ah, no. It’s not like that.”
Chel, fumbling for an excuse, resigned himself and took his seat. Just last week, it had been Ian who was the one wavering. I couldn’t understand how the situation had reversed so completely.
‘Those golden eyes back then… what were they?’
Could it be a curse? Had Father planted a curse within Ian’s body to send him to destroy the Cheonryo Tribe? All manner of imaginative speculation born from ignorance tangled in Chel’s mind.
Ian observed him intently while eating his salad.
“Brother.”
“…Yes?”
“I noticed yesterday that your stamina seems quite weak. Do you receive any separate training?”
Training? He habitually feigned illness to skip physical conditioning at school. There was no way someone like Chel would engage in additional exercise.
Ian suggested with an air of concern.
“Looking at yesterday, both you and I seem to have rather poor stamina. Since we’re the only children in House of Bratz, I’m quite worried about what the Cheonryo Tribe might think if we’re both like this.”
Perhaps sensing something ominous, Chel slowly set down his knife. Ian, smiling brightly, tidied his dishes.
“So, what do you say? Shall we go to the training ground together?”
Chel gasped, his mouth falling open.
The training ground? That place where soldiers wielded swords and spears?
“If you suggest it, Father will surely be pleased. He’ll certainly praise it as befitting conduct for the next Count.”
In truth, Count Derga harbored many concerns. Given the near-wartime state with the Cheonryo Tribe, the strength of the young nobles mattered greatly, yet Chel, despite being the First Son, kept his distance from such matters.
Thus, the method the Count chose was to elevate the authority of the Training Master. Deo was among those who benefited from this arrangement.
“W-well, I suppose he might…”
Chel, who disliked even running, let alone wielding a sword, briefly pondered how to refuse. But Ian seized the opportunity swiftly.
“Excellent. Then let’s go take a look right after breakfast. I hear it’s just beyond the mansion’s rear gate.”
“Right after eating?”
“Why? Does that displease you?”
The choice was simple: eat and then go, or go on an empty stomach. Chel pressed his lips together and cast a resentful glance at his absent parents’ empty seats.
Ian, as always, ate sparingly. There would be quite a lot left over today.
* * *
The training ground came into view the moment we stepped through the mansion’s rear gate.
The building, used since ancient times by previous generations, was weathered, yet its gray walls retained the full dignity of a military installation. The Bariel flag and the banner of House of Bratz fluttered proudly in the wind.
“Deo.”
“Young Master Chel?”
Upon entering the training ground, I spotted Deo half-reclined on a bench. It was clear he was still using his injury as an excuse to avoid participating in training.
At the unexpected visit of these two boys who rarely showed their faces, Deo rose in surprise.
“What brings you here, sir?”
“I’d like to have a look at the training ground.”
“You, sir? Why?”
Ian, standing behind Deo, stepped forward at his response. His tone was not merely disrespectful—it was downright insolent.
“Is it so extraordinary that the young lord visits the training ground?”
“It’s the first time, after all.”
“During yesterday’s outing, I felt the lack of physical conditioning. I thought it best to train together going forward. Even if my escort passes out drunk, I should be capable of protecting myself.”
It was a rebuke directed at Deo, who had collapsed after drinking wine at the residence. From Ian’s perspective, it was fortunate indeed, though the man had nonetheless neglected his duties.
The man chuckled and ran his dark tongue across his teeth.
‘What’s gotten into him all of a sudden?’
For Deo, this was an unwelcome change.
Though unlikely, if Chel showed interest and talent in martial arts, some of the authority granted to the commander would certainly be restricted.
Well, considering he was still young and his soft, rounded frame, there seemed little cause for concern…
“Very well. Come along then. It’s hardly difficult to show someone around.”
Deo walked ahead leisurely. Within the spacious grounds, soldiers trained freely. Most were shirtless, wielding swords or running while carrying wagon wheels—the raw, unrefined atmosphere was palpable.
“Haaaah!”
“Once more!”
“Push! Harder!”
“Haaaah!”
These were individuals gathered for personal training. The intensity was thick, with cries erupting from every corner. Chel attempted to maintain his composure, but he appeared distinctly uncomfortable.
“This is the largest training ground, that’s the warehouse, and beyond that is the rest area. When training through the night, soldiers can lodge and eat in the rest area. And…”
Listening to Deo’s explanation with half an ear—his reluctance evident—Ian surveyed the interior. In a corner, young men lay prone with their heads down.
“What are they doing over there?”
Unlike most of the adult soldiers, they appeared young. At most, no older than eighteen. Deo answered indifferently.
“Orphans.”
“Orphans?”
It was inconceivable that House of Bratz, struggling even to meet tax obligations, would operate an orphanage. For orphans without guardians wandering the streets, there was only one path to survival: becoming Count Derga’s soldier. Once they entered the army, at least they received food and a place to sleep.
Deo muttered with a grin.
“If you’d been unlucky, sir, you’d be seeing me here.”
Crude, perhaps, but not untrue.
I am a bastard born of a commoner mother. My origins were such that abandonment would have been unremarkable. Had that been the case, Ian too would have had no choice but to enter here.
“Is that what you think? Brother, what do you make of it?”
At Ian’s question, Chel’s face hardened.
“…Deo. Don’t speak that way.”
Please, stop saying such unfilial things to Ian.
What would happen if those golden eyes appeared once more? No one could say. It was a rebuke born of fear, yet Deo’s expression suggested surprise.
Then, commotion erupted in the center of the training ground, beneath the blazing sun.
“Get your head down properly!”
Crack!
A man who appeared to be an instructor wielded a thin whip mercilessly. Red welts marked the children’s arms, backs, and thighs.
‘Child soldiers and abuse. This man has completely lost his mind.’
Count Derga—what was wrong with him? I could never have imagined such treatment. Back when I was Emperor of Bariel, child soldiers were a tactic that only appeared when a nation was on the brink of collapse.
I called for Deo, wanting to ease the children’s suffering even for a moment.
“Deo, by your own admission, these would have been my comrades had fortune favored them differently. Call them to the shade for a moment—I’d like to encourage them.”
“Pardon? Are you serious?”
“Do I need to repeat myself for you to understand?”
“That won’t be possible. Training cannot be interrupted, even if the Count himself arrives. It’s a matter of discipline, as I’m sure you understand.”
Discipline be damned. Instead of answering, I sat on a nearby bench and watched them. Once this wretched training ended, I would call them over immediately to check on their condition. Chel hesitated as well before settling onto the edge of the bench beside me.
“Aaaahhh!”
“Can’t do it properly? Want to starve?”
“No! I can do it!”
“Keep your arms straight!”
“Aaaahhh!”
The screams were agonizing—so raw they pierced through the surrounding training noise. One by one, the children supporting themselves on their heads with their arms pinned behind them began to collapse sideways.
“Hold on!”
Among them, one child caught my eye in particular.
Tousled red hair tied back haphazardly, and through the strands, eyes that gleamed with something unsettling. Pure venom itself. Not merely present, but a gaze that seemed to perceive the world through that very poison.
“That child…”
I found myself speaking without thinking.
Red hair and eyes. His build was lean, and even as his body trembled violently, he endured to the very end.
Following my gaze, Deo answered with obvious indifference.
“That’s Berik.”
He didn’t possess any particularly outstanding physical abilities. Yet even the instructors would shake their heads in exasperation at his relentless persistence. In the selection bout, he faced an opponent nearly twice his weight class, yet he tore off the boy’s ear to claim victory. Of course, he received a four-day fasting punishment for that.
I watched Berik with my legs crossed.
“Hnngh…”
Only two remained. Berik and the other boy’s necks were bent as if they might snap at any moment. The instructor checked his watch in silence, apparently waiting until one of them fell.
“Aaaahhh!”
Berik screamed through his agony and endured. At that moment, his opponent lost strength and collapsed sideways. His sweat-soaked torso became caked with sand.
Whistle!
“Stop.”
At the instructor’s command, Berik’s knees touched the ground. The boy, gasping for breath and unable to rise, barely managed to turn his head and spit. His forehead was a mess of blood. Having poured everything out, he lay prone and couldn’t move.
“So this Berik is the best among them?”
Chel asked, visibly shaken by what he’d witnessed.
“Not quite. His tenacity has some merit, but that’s where it ends. His actual skill doesn’t match his willpower. Especially in actual combat.”
The instructor poured water over Berik’s head. Yet the child still couldn’t rise, closing his eyes with an irritated expression. The other comrades who had given up earlier had no trouble moving.
“With such dedication, wouldn’t he be exemplary in training?”
“…There’s such a thing as constitution. No matter how hard one tries, some things simply cannot be done. There are limits to innate ability.”
He arrived at the training ground earliest each day and left latest, yet his progress was slow. His ability to clench his teeth and endure through sheer venom was unmatched by anyone, but what good was that? It wasn’t as if gritting one’s teeth would stop an enemy’s blade.
“That’s why he should learn to accept his limits. Each person has their proper place. Berik seems better suited for special operations than frontline combat, so I’m planning to reassign him separately.”
Deo added this as if to make sure Chel and I heard it clearly.
The matter of troop management was being handled well enough by capable individuals like myself, so the implication was that they should simply hold their pens with delicate hands. But Chel lacked the wit to grasp such subtlety, and I found my thoughts wandering elsewhere.
‘Something feels off.’
That look in his eyes just now—how should I describe it?
A knight willing to die for conviction and honor itself. The vivid spirit of one who could conjure the inferno of war. Was it not remarkable that a child not yet of age possessed such a temperament?
And more than anything else… when he unleashed that strike, I sensed a faint surge of magical power in that instant.
‘All the hallmarks of a Mage Knight.’
A swordsman who wielded mana.
With mana blocking the inner qi within their body, their growth remained sluggish before awakening. Yet once awakened, they would become a force of combat strength rivaling few ordinary humans.
‘To unearth such potential requires a mana manipulator to stimulate the latent power within. Since such individuals are rare, many who possessed the gift of a Mage Knight likely perished without ever knowing their true nature.’
“It seems training has concluded. Have him brought here now.”
I issued the command to Deo.
My tone was resolute—there would be no tolerance for a second refusal.

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