Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 153

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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 153. Whole Pig Party
“Good grief, does he have a beggar living in his belly?”
A whole pig roasted golden-brown over a fire in one corner of the garden. Romandro muttered in bewilderment while watching Berik.
It was easy to understand what he meant by “possessed by hunger.” The way Berik shoved chunks of meat into his mouth by the fistful, gripping them in both hands, was unmistakably the behavior of a madman. Yet Berik laughed happily and raised his cup.
“Another bottle!”
“You fool, stop it! Does a beggar live in your belly? You took a week to return from a journey that should have taken a day—have you no shame?”
“Don’t you know alcohol expands infinitely once it enters the stomach?”
“You’re destined to die from your belly bursting rather than a sword wound. Good heavens, I’m at a loss for words. Truly.”
Berik’s throat was blocked by meat, but Romandro’s was blocked by exasperation. Regardless, Berik continued tearing into the meat with half his mind elsewhere.
“Ian, keeping that fellow fed costs too much. The value for money is abysmal.”
“Still, *smack*, didn’t we spend more money than it would cost to butcher one pig? Why did you say all the slaves belonged to me anyway? Right? Wow, this meat is really delicious!”
At Berik’s words, Romandro’s face flushed crimson. Yes. He admitted it. He’d misspoken in his panic and nervousness.
Beyond the Astanians, bringing in slaves of unknown nationality had made additional expenses unavoidable. He’d assigned doctors to the dying, clothing to the naked, and food to those on the brink of starvation.
“Do you understand the hardships of a civil servant?!”
“Huh? How would I? And what does that have to do with misspeaking anyway? Ian, I’m right, aren’t I?”
As Romandro gasped and grabbed his own neck, closing his eyes, I reached over and patted his shoulder.
“After some hardship outside, the boy has become quite sharp.”
My tone was full of amusement. In other words, I agreed with Berik’s words. Romandro pressed his forehead and apologized once more.
“I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted. Thanks to you clearing the building, the guards will have an easier time with cleanup. And Berik, let me be clear—one of your meals costs more than what went to those people.”
“No way, you’re lying!”
Even as Berik said this, he tore into a chunk of meat the size of his own head. The bowl emptied in an instant. Mini looked flustered and flipped the logs with a poker.
“Sir Berik, please eat slowly! The Astanians have only just finished half their bowls!”
“My belly still isn’t even half full?”
The Astanians, chattering away with Hasha, filled their hunger. Judging by the occasional laughter, they seemed to be sharing stories of home.
When one of them made eye contact with me, he bowed respectfully and smiled brightly.
“Judging by how the Rugaspel guards are departing, this shouldn’t escalate into a major incident. After investigation, if anyone was illegally enslaved, restore their identities and close the matter.”
“Parkens—what about him?”
“Find out who his accomplice, the necromancer, is, then hand him over to the guards. Since he engaged in illegal slavery, handle it according to the relevant laws.”
Parkens was confined in the mansion’s warehouse. More accurately, he was unconscious and being kept secured.
Hearing my instructions, Romandro nodded while moistening his lips with alcohol.
“Understood. I’ll handle this matter myself. Ian, don’t worry and focus on becoming the next Minister of Magic.”
As Romandro set down his cup with a determined expression, Berik laughed outright. His cackling laughter was utterly carefree.
“And then you’ll mess up again and bring back something weird?”
“You keep quiet and eat, or today will be your last meal!”
“Ian’s the one feeding me anyway, so why are you taking credit? If there’s nobody home, I’ll clean out the whole kitchen!”
“You think our Mini is that easy to push around?!”
The two of them launched into another childish argument. The Astanians, who were startled by the loud voices at first, now seemed accustomed to it.
Hasha, who had been sitting in a chair, suddenly sprang up and rushed toward me. A man followed behind him, limping.
-Ian!
“Hasha, are we lacking food?”
-No, we have plenty. That’s not it. Do you remember that Astana has many sorcerers?”
“Yes. You told me so yourself. That different sects practice different sorceries. So if we return, we might be able to obtain a new body with the help of a different sect, you said. I remember it clearly.”
Hasha’s tail struck the man’s knee repeatedly. At that, he opened his mouth and extended his tongue.
A strange pattern drawn in the center. Both Berik and Romandro wore puzzled expressions, but I understood its meaning.
-Iza is a diviner, and he has something he wishes to convey to you.
A sort of oracle. To divine fate is like measuring waves while drowning in the sea. It shifts easily with the smallest breeze and the splash of fish.
I noticed the man’s expression was animated and granted permission.
“If it’s good, I’ll listen. If not, I’ll discard it.”
-Of course it’s good! If the benefactor’s divination comes out poorly, I should cut out my own tongue and seal it forever!
With my permission granted, the man divined the future in an incomprehensible Astanan tongue. His prophecy emerged through Hasha’s mouth in Bariel’s language.
-Though you stumble and lose direction, wandering here and there, in the end there is but one path. Even if the path seems to change, when viewed from heaven all things are connected. In the end, you shall return to that place. As you desire.
How is it? Good words, yes? Hasha panted with laughter, but I could only wear a strange expression. For some reason, that path felt as though it meant ‘history’ itself.
Much has already changed, but as a hundred years pass, it seemed all things would reclaim their destinies and create the world I knew.
“What is this? A riddle, not a prophecy.”
-Prophecies are meant to be interpreted.
Hasha retorted to Berik’s words. The diviner bowed and returned to his place, and I quietly wet my lips with wine. Then Mrs. Viviana handed me water instead, concerned.
“Ian. Didn’t you say you had to enter the palace early in the morning? Dear, you should stop drinking too. It’ll make it hard to wake up.”
At Viviana’s concern, Romandro reluctantly set down his cup. She smiled brightly and added her words.
“And Ian. I heard you’re challenging for the position of next Minister of the Magic Department. Your clothes are quite refined and splendid now, but they don’t quite suit a departmental minister.”
“Madam, I was about to ask you for that very thing.”
Due to the nature of the New Year’s gathering, what I’d had tailored at the wardrobe room had a youthful sensibility to them. They couldn’t be the same as clothes worn for entering public service.
“So I’ve prepared something new. Please wear it when you enter the palace tomorrow.”
“As expected, you’re someone Minister Romandro trusts and relies upon, so I feel reassured as well. Thank you, madam.”
As I kissed the back of my hand in greeting, Romandro blushed as though he’d been complimented and laughed. Regardless, Berik raised an empty plate again and shouted.
“One more plate!”
* * *
The next day, at the hour when the dawn moon rose.
I hadn’t slept more than a few hours and went straight to the Magic Department. It was such an emergency that traces of overtime were evident throughout the building.
Romandro’s Administrative Department was likely the same. As I entered the lobby, the mages walking about sluggishly acknowledged me.
“Ian, did any special contact come from the imperial palace?”
“None. If there had been, we would have issued an emergency summons by magic. Is there a problem?”
“While investigating forbidden magic materials, we found out. The ones from three hundred years ago were separately entrusted to the Administrative Department. Minister Wesley, that is. Since it seems that was before the Magic Department was established, we need a cooperation letter.”
“Do we need cooperation letters from all the captains?”
“Yes. And if you have one too, that would be good. Since you attended the imperial palace conference.”
“Understood. I’ll write it right away and submit it.”
Creak.
So saying, I opened the department door wide. Then mages sitting packed in chairs. This was clearly the Magic Operations Department office, yet I couldn’t understand why they were all here.
“What are you all doing here?”
“Huh? Uh, uh! Ian, ahem. You’ve arrived.”
Akorelra was the first to wake. She wiped the saliva from her lips and checked the time. Three in the morning. Too early to be arriving for work, too late to be leaving. I pressed my brow repeatedly, trying to shake off the fatigue.
“Let me introduce you. These are the captains of the Potion Research Division, Linguistic Research Division, and Magical Tool Crafting Division. Ugh.”
At Akorelra’s words, the others rose from their seats. Their faces were already familiar from passing each other in the halls. The people from the Magical Operations Division were all sleeping together in the duty room at the back of the department.
“I formally introduce myself. I am Ian.”
“Ah, yes. I know. No need for formalities.”
“We already know each other’s faces, don’t we?”
“Since you’re all close to me, let’s get along well.”
Close to her. That meant Akorelra had brought them in to support me. They could also be considered regular customers of the potion sales. I shook hands with them and removed my coat.
“If I’m close to Akorelra, then I could become close to you as well.”
“Aha. That’s right. First, the Potion Research Division came in looking only at commercializing practical potions—no two ways about it. The Magical Tool Crafting Division is interested in mass-supplying Luron stones. And the Linguistic Research Division… they’re severely underfunded. Since it’s a department studying language, there’s supposedly no need for separate expenses. The next minister should really consider that aspect, they said. Yes, yes, that’s what they said.”
The three divisions’ desires were clear to me. I nodded as if to say just trust me. Akorelra wrote each division’s name on the blackboard one by one.
Scratch, scratch.
“And Captain Jang, right?”
“Yes. He’s the captain of the Magical Research Division.”
“I didn’t expect it, but he’s more popular than I thought. He unified with other divisions that had registered as candidates. I’m not sure what he used to persuade them, but if we only count the divisions with confirmed positions now, our numbers are a bit short.”
I actively agreed with Akorelra’s assessment that he didn’t seem that impressive. Since he hadn’t made a particularly strong impression, I nodded while resting my chin in my hand.
“What about the other divisions without a confirmed position?”
“Quite a few. Some don’t care who it is, some are too busy investigating, and some insist on confirming magical power first before deciding!”
As Akorelra tapped the blackboard loudly and shouted, Tomi, who had been sleeping in the duty room, jolted awake and rubbed his eyes. But realizing it was nothing serious, he flopped back down.
I scanned through the division names and fixed my gaze at the very end.
“How do you think that one will go?”
The Magical Support Division. Minister Wesley’s direct division, currently being shunned by both the Magic Ministry and the Imperial Palace.
Akorelra scratched the area above her upper lip and answered.
“They’ll probably cast abstention votes. They’re not showing their faces at all. They know how to read the room, you see.”
Tap, tap. I counted the number of mages belonging to the Magical Support Division and calculated. Other divisions aside, weren’t they the ones with the smallest headcount?
“Does anyone know the contact information for the Magical Support Division’s captain?”
After finishing my thoughts, I asked gracefully, and all the captains instinctively raised their hands. Then I smiled with satisfaction and gave my instruction.
“Call them. Now, here.”
“Call them? Ha, will they even come?”
At the Linguistic Research Division captain’s question, I answered without hesitation.
“If they don’t come, only they lose. They should be smart enough to do that calculation. Call them. I expect them to arrive within thirty minutes.”

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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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