Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 152

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

Chapter 152. Illegal Slaves
Boom! Crash!
As the commotion grew increasingly violent, Romandro finally rose from his seat. He pressed his ear against the door, his eyes darting about. It was clear from the curses and thunderous sounds that chaos was unfolding outside.
Romandro called out to me with visible distaste.
“I-Ian, this is Berik, right?”
What if it wasn’t Berik? What if some other problem had arisen? What if the slaves had escaped and were fighting? If that were the case, wouldn’t even our safety be at risk while we sat in this office conducting slave purchases?
Yet I calmly rummaged through the office desk and drawers, nodding in agreement.
“It should be. His magical energy has faded now, but I definitely sensed it was his.”
“Th-then that’s a relief.”
Crash! Bang!
“Ahhhhh!”
At that very moment, the door burst wide open. Romandro jumped in fright and tumbled backward. The one who opened the door was Berik, his hair disheveled. He grinned widely at Romandro and me.
“Ian, Ian, Ian!”
“Ah, Berik. It has been quite some time.”
“Man, I’ve been through hell! It was seriously rough!”
“You bastard! Die!”
“Once we’re done here, roast me a whole pig.”
“Very well. Provided you handle the cleanup thoroughly.”
Whoosh!
A steward from the slave merchant company swung a sword at Berik from behind. But he naturally ducked his head to the side, evading it, then pivoted smoothly and drove his fist into the man’s face.
“But Berik, why did you call for us? It seems you have no trouble handling this alone.”
“Ah, that’s because of Hasha.”
-Count Ian! Count Ian!
Tap!
At that moment, a white dog darted between Berik’s legs and leaped toward me. I set down the documents I’d been reading and caught the dog in my arms, slowly stroking its neck.
“Hasha. Are you unharmed?”
-Count Ian, I’m sorry! I accidentally spoke human language in front of these people! I thought if I just panted like a dog, they’d overlook it, but wouldn’t you know it, I was caught immediately! Ugh, how infuriating!
“Calm yourself. All that matters is that you’re safe. Hasha, I have much to tell you.”
-And I as well, Ian. But before that, the reason I asked Berik to call you is…
As Hasha spoke, five or six people appeared at the doorway. Those with blue hair and pointed ears—I immediately recognized them as Astanians.
“Berik, clean up this place quickly. You may kill everyone, but keep the merchant master Parkens alive. Do you know his face?”
“Yep, I do.”
“Good. Astanians, please come inside.”
“See you later, Ian!”
Creak. Boom!
At my gesture, the Astanians hesitantly entered the office. All of them wore shackles on their feet. Berik shut the door as if to say he had everything under control, while Romandro stood guard outside, wielding a wooden rod as a weapon.
‘The Astanians were imprisoned and couldn’t escape alone. Even if Berik killed everyone and freed them from their shackles, if these foreigners—who are slaves—were caught by the guards, they could be handed over to another slave merchant.’
“Hasha, you did very well calling me.”
At my praise, Hasha’s tail wagged rapidly against the floor. What was needed was an imperial citizen with authority who could handle this situation.
“And listen without being too shocked. Wesley is dead. More precisely, it would be accurate to say she destroyed herself.”
—What did you just say?
Hasha’s tail went rigid. The one who had upended her entire life and her grandmother’s through forbidden necromancy research was dead? It was unbelievable.
“…Karenna’s Market Master sent a letter.”
Ian slowly stroked Hasha’s back. Then, tracing the incident from its beginning, he relayed in detail how she had met her demise.
Though Hasha wore the form of a dog, what he felt in this moment was unmistakably evident. The Astanans who didn’t understand Bariel grew uneasy, clutching each other’s hands.
“So, Hasha. You are safe now. No one in Bariel will threaten you. Wesley is dead. If you harbor any lingering resentment, let it become the driving force to move forward and live with all your strength. That is the final way the living exact revenge upon the dead.”
At Ian’s consolation, Hasha lowered her head. Slowly, following the path of Ian’s hand, she pressed her snout forward and rubbed it gently against him.
Tears fell, drop by drop.
Ian gladly wiped them away with his sleeve.
—…Thank you.
“If you wish, I will send you to Astana within the week. Will you go?”
Wesley’s death itself was proof of forbidden necromancy. Otherwise, Prince Gail would never have made such a decision. Now that it had come to this, there was no need for Hasha to take action personally.
—I was about to speak of that very matter. Do you remember? My grandmother was the head of the largest faction in Astana.
Why her grandmother hadn’t fled back to her homeland to escape Wesley, why her family in Astana hadn’t come searching for them—these questions had weighed heavily on Hasha. But now she finally understood.
—While we were fleeing from Wesley, I heard a great earthquake struck Astana. They too were displaced by the disaster and fell into the hands of slave traders. Moreover, the power struggles between factions reached their peak amid the chaos. I must return swiftly and carry on my grandmother’s will.
“Earthquakes have increased across the continent over the past few years. I myself went to help with the restoration of the Ministry buildings before heading to Bratz—no, Hielo.”
Romandro, who had been listening quietly, added a word. Hasha’s dark eyes glistened with moisture.
—When I return, even if this body is no longer mine, there are ways to transfer my soul into human form. Ian. As my final request, please send me and the Astanans back to our homeland.
Hasha bowed her head. Speaking in the Astanan tongue, she conveyed something, and the others too prostrated themselves, pleading with Ian in their respective languages.
“Hasha. I have already made you a promise once. That memory remains with you—how could I speak differently now? Enough. Compose yourself.”
—There is something else I must tell you. The Parkens Company was the merchant house that traded undead with the Karenna bandits. Yet no matter how I thought about it, I could not understand why they used my corpse for necromancy. But hearing what these Astanans say…
When displaced Astanans were caught by slave traders, they were verified multiple times for their origins. And they placed great importance on whether they belonged to a faction capable of using necromancy.
—It seems there is a necromancer who passed knowledge of necromancy to these people. That person is likely in the Imperial Palace. Whether their scheme is merely for profit or something else, I cannot say. But it would be wise to find them and watch carefully.
Crash! Bang!
At that moment, a thunderous sound erupted. Then silence. Footsteps approached, and the Astanans prostrated themselves on the ground, their hands trembling.
Creak.
“Kyaaaah!”
“Aaaaah!”
The Astanans screamed once at the sight of Berik drenched in blood, and again at the head he dragged behind him. Berik, meanwhile, grinned widely and hurled Parkens forward.
“Ian, this is the commander, right?”
“Yes. Well done. What about outside?”
“They’re probably all dead.”
“…All?”
“Yeah. It just happened that way.”
From the way he glanced around, it seemed less like it “just happened” and more like he’d done it deliberately. When Ian narrowed his eyes at him, Berik simply laughed sheepishly. After all, it had been a week since they’d last seen each other. Ian wasn’t about to scold him over it.
“…All right. Good work.”
“Wow, Ian. That was really tough, you know? Following the compass, I’d hit dead ends. Turn around and the paths would be cut off. I barely ate anything for a whole week.”
“Why didn’t you just climb over walls or something?”
“I did. That’s why I went further to shake off the guards. You said I couldn’t kill the guards, so. Ugh, it was really annoying!”
“…I can imagine.”
That’s why it took a whole week. Considering it took Ian less than a few hours to travel from the Imperial Palace here by carriage, it was truly remarkable administrative capability. Ian decided he should never entrust pursuit-related matters to this person again as he opened the last desk drawer.
-A brooch!
“Before heading to Astana, I’d prefer Hasha wear this at all times.”
Ian fastened the brooch around Hasha’s neck, then looked at the unconscious Parkens. He was pondering how to dispose of this person, given that all the caravan members were dead.
“Guard unit reporting! We’ve arrived in response to a disturbance call—gasp!”
“Hey! Is anyone inside?”
“What is this? Good heavens, they’re all dead.”
“Is anyone alive? If someone is here, respond!”
The guard unit was entering, stepping over corpses drenched in blood. As Ian moved forward, Romandro blocked his path this time.
“I’ll handle it. Ian, aren’t you on the verge of becoming Minister of the Magic Ministry? If any complications arise, it could be problematic. Leave it to me! Though I may not wield a sword like Berik, I’m a man who’s lived off a pen in the Imperial Palace my entire life!”
“Oh, magnificent, Romandro!”
“You there, wipe some of that blood off! The guards will think you’re a monster and come running.”
Berik chuckled and rubbed his face roughly. The bloodstains smeared into blotches, creating an even more grotesque appearance.
“We’ll discuss the details after returning to the estate.”
-Yes. That would be best. What about Parkens?
“We’ll take him. There are things to question him about, and he may prove useful. Berik, cover him with cloth and carry him.”
“Will you roast a pig right away, Master? Truth is, I’m starving right now. I think it’d be fine to just drag this bastard along.”
Berik deliberately staggered and groaned loudly. The Astanans, taking the hint, offered their hands to help. They would carry him instead of Berik.
“…Those who carry him will also receive alcohol.”
“Get away!!”
At Ian’s words, Berik immediately swatted away the Astanans’ hands. As if he hadn’t been groaning moments before, he hoisted Parkens onto his shoulder and sprang up. Hasha, who had been about to lead the way, paused and turned back.
-Ian. But there are more slaves in the basement. What becomes of them?
“Slaves?”
The Astanans were a tribal nation living in harmony with nature. They knew of slavery conceptually, but encountering it culturally was a first. Yet what was trapped behind iron bars wasn’t merely human beings—it was their very dignity.
Just as Ian was about to speak, Romandro’s voice came from outside.
“Listen here, don’t go any further inside! There’s someone of high rank from the Imperial Palace in there. If you see their face, it will cause trouble for you, I’m telling you.”
One guard stopped as he was about to enter the corridor toward the office.
“There are those who became slaves illegally, and we were investigating when a conflict occurred. Are these people licensed slave merchants approved by the nation?”
It was unthinkable that those who dealt with bandits would have received permission. Moreover, if traces related to the undead were discovered, losing a few caravan members here wouldn’t be a significant problem. Above all, they all seemed to be foreign-born.
“Ah, that would require a separate investigation.”
“You guards of Bariel—how did you fail to notice until a nobleman’s family member was kidnapped by illegal slave merchants? This is a clear dereliction of duty! State your names and affiliations.”
“No, Advisor. There are so many illegal immigrants here, how could we pay attention to every single thing?”
“I know, I know!”
And he quietly slipped them some money. If they’d been demoted and assigned here, they were guards who’d caused considerable incidents—most likely involving bribery charges. The guards exchanged glances with each other while checking Romandro’s credentials and looking around.
“Then, please submit a report to the guard unit within the near future. We’ll also verify the legitimacy of the caravan. You mentioned there were illegal slaves?”
“That’s right! And they were kidnapped too!”
“Hmm. I understand.”
People had died, yet the attitude was one of being swayed by a few coins. Romandro handed over the money while struggling to hide his trembling heart. The guard scratched his head and asked,
“Were all the illegal slaves members of the Advisor’s household?”
“Eh? Yes, yes! That’s right!”
“Understood. I’ll arrange a carriage for you. Please take the victims and return for now. I’ll report to you once the matter is settled.”
All the slaves? Romandro turned back in bewilderment, and I merely shrugged my shoulders. As if to say, what else could I do?

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