Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 201

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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 201
The Emperor’s Mage
“…Mother?”
Philia sat dazed, her hair matted with sweat and tears clinging to her cheeks, her palms slick with blood.
Nersaren, who had followed behind, rushed forward in alarm.
“Philia!”
The Warriors’ discovery and subdual of the intruder had not taken long. In that brief moment, what on earth had transpired?
Philia gazed up at me through streaming tears. Though she knew the fault was not her own, she trembled with fear, unable to fathom what consequences this might bring upon me.
“Ian, I—”
“Are you hurt?”
I knelt on one knee before her. Examining her complexion closely, I noticed her lip was split—not torn, but clearly struck. Either Prince Gail or Arcen had scraped her cheek.
Nersaren, catching this, made no effort to conceal his murderous aura. His angular jaw became more pronounced, veins bulging at his temples. He rose, glaring at both princes. A wildflower, trembling at the slightest breeze, cherished beyond measure—and yet they dared lay hands upon her….
“Wait, please wait.”
Philia seized both my arm and Nersaren’s with both hands. The shock of what had just occurred was so overwhelming that she scarcely felt the sting of her wounds.
“I cannot comprehend it, but Prince Arcen commanded that I scar my own face. Just as Prince Jin bears his mark.”
Nersaren frowned with displeasure, but I quickly examined Arcen. This was no ordinary wound. It was a mark proclaiming him the next Emperor, was it not? The boy gripped the table edge and slowly rose to his feet.
‘It’s not there.’
Fortunately, his face remained unmarred. Though Prince Gail’s recent assault had torn his earlobe slightly, his countenance was otherwise unblemished.
“Ah, I didn’t intend to, but my mind went white and I couldn’t refuse. Had I been even a moment slower, I don’t know what would have happened. Ian. Ian, I’m sorry.”
Philia trembled violently, gripping my arm. Her eyes burned with desperate hope that this would not become a burden for me.
“Please, do not apologize. You have done nothing wrong. And Mother—my son is the Minister of Magic for the great empire of Bariel. Prince or not, they cannot treat him carelessly. Raise your head.”
My mind went white and I couldn’t refuse. I turned these words over in my mind as I rose to my feet.
I had assumed Arcen’s intrusion into Prince Gail’s quarters was aided by an accomplice. Yet Philia’s testimony suggested something else—that Arcen had employed some ability.
‘Arcen was already inside the room. Yet one cannot enter the quarters without passing through where the guards stand.’
Crack!
Then, a sharp sound split the air and my thoughts shattered. Prince Gail had struck Arcen’s cheek. The boy, barely managing to rise, tumbled backward once more.
“Gasp! Y-Your Highness!”
“Prince Gail! This cannot be!”
The guards, unable to bear it, rushed forward in shock, but Prince Gail paid them no mind, seizing Arcen by the hair. Regardless of his status as a criminal, what did that matter?
Crack!
“I always thought you arrogant and reckless, yet I believed you at least understood your station. Now I see I was wrong. Your insides are so rotten with filth they overflow.”
“Your Highness! Release him!”
“This is a final warning! This cannot continue!”
“Please, stop! I beg you!”
Arcen’s body shook under Prince Gail’s rough grip. The guards had no choice but to draw their blades and shout. Regardless of right or wrong, Arcen was closest to becoming the next successor. They could not allow a traitor like Prince Gail to beat him so.
With his hair seized, Arcen’s eyes flew open, and he began to laugh—a high, keening sound.
“You’re the one who should know his station, brother. Living your whole life in Marib’s shadow! And you’ll die there soon enough! Who are you to lecture me?”
Crack!
Clang!
As Prince Gail struck his cheek again, the guards thrust their blades forward. It was over. Prince Gail released Arcen’s hair and settled onto the bed. The sudden movement sent pain shooting through his neck and lower back.
“Keke, kek….”
“Your Highness, are you alright?”
“Fetch the doctor! The doctor!”
Prince Gail rummaged across the table searching for a cigarette, and a soldier approached to hand him a rolled leaf. What he truly needed was a sedative, though no one recognized it. The fault lay with Arcen, whose mouth was stained with blood as he let out a terrible shriek.
“The brat’s lost his mind. If that’s the Emperor, then I’m the Emperor’s grandfather.”
“Shut your mouth.”
“What does it matter? They don’t understand Cheonrye anyway.”
“Look, look. His head’s completely scrambled. He keeps laughing like an idiot.”
“The brat hit Lady Philia, didn’t he? Damn, I’d love to crack his skull open. He’s learned nothing but wickedness.”
The warriors spoke in Cheonrye, their conversation flowing freely. These so-called princes of the great Bariel Empire were all like this, and honestly, it was disappointing.
Nersaren signaled restraint with his eyes, though he made no active effort to stop them. His own mood had been unsettled by Philia’s injury.
“Prince Arcen.”
“….”
Ian approached Arcen through the haze of rolled leaf smoke. The boy merely blinked his eyes, staring up at him intently.
“Is it true you laid hands on my mother?”
“Yes. She spoke with unbecoming arrogance for a commoner, so I did.”
Any problem with that? Arcen smiled smugly, but Ian’s gaze was frigid. He had witnessed the cruelty hidden behind a child’s innocence far too many times.
‘Arcen possesses ability. The fact that he hasn’t revealed it until now suggests he’s not purely advantageous to me. But if left alone, he’ll become troublesome. I should eliminate him.’
“They say no one stands alone in this world. Prince Arcen. You’ve made a mistake right now.”
Swish.
Ian turned to face Prince Gail. Sitting on the bed rolling a leaf cigarette, he exhaled smoke. Their gazes locked. Ian signaled subtly with a twitch of his left eyebrow.
“Ha.”
Prince Gail let out a low laugh. He immediately understood what Ian wanted—to kill Arcen, here and now, cleanly without consequences. Only Prince Gail could handle this.
“…Count Ian. Did you not issue an order forbidding outsiders from entering my quarters?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Those who die while I live. As the one responsible for restoring order in the imperial palace, I must eliminate all conspirators. Yet I cannot fathom why Arcen is here.”
Prince Gail skillfully grasped the justification. The fault lay with the other side first. He was shifting all responsibility for the tragedy to come entirely onto Arcen.
Ian played along, bowing his head slightly.
“I too am uncertain, Your Highness.”
Clang!
Prince Gail seized the sword from the guard standing beside him. The warriors watched with silent approval, while the guards nervously retreated, avoiding eye contact. The intent was unmistakable.
“Arcen, if you die here, no one will ever know why.”
Swish.
Prince Gail leveled the blade. His condition was dire, but subduing one child was child’s play. The blade’s edge traced down from the boy’s jaw toward his neck.
“Count Ian.”
Prince Gail suddenly called out to Ian and paused. Before killing Arcen, he needed to confirm what he would gain from this.
First and foremost, he needed a reprieve from being stripped of the imperial family name. He couldn’t remain in the palace, but living outside was what mattered. If he survived, another chance would come eventually.
“Prince Gail Berosion, Second Prince. I humbly await your command.”
Ian, perceiving his intent, called out his full name respectfully. The man’s instincts were irritatingly sharp. Prince Gail laughed irritably and straightened his blade.
Kill, and live.
If you wish to live, then kill.
Whoosh.
“Count Ian.”
That was the moment. Arcen lightly deflected the blade with his fingertips. Blood welled up from the Boy’s index and middle fingers.
“A traitor is trying to kill me, Prince 4, right now—yet you show no stance of protection whatsoever? I am an indispensable figure to Bariel.”
“Your Highness?”
Ian countered as if he genuinely didn’t know. By what measure? Even without this one man, Bariel’s centuries of glory would suffer no loss. If anything, Jin’s future would shine all the brighter.
Zing. Zing.
“…!”
“…!”
As Arcen exhaled, his blue eyes transformed into golden ones. Philia, Nersaren, even a mere guard—all recognized the shift in that gaze.
“I am destined to become the first Mage Emperor.”
Shock that transcended mere surprise.
Prince Gail unconsciously staggered backward. The arm of Nersaren, who held Philia, tensed with force. None of them could comprehend how this situation was unfolding.
“Therefore, if you kill me, you kill the Bariel Empire. Ian, you know this, don’t you? The depth of infinite glory that a single Mage brings?”
Of course he knew. Hadn’t a baseborn bastard from the frontier risen to this very position solely because he was a Mage? But a prince in the line of succession being a Mage? Without question, he possessed the qualifications to ascend the throne.
Just as Ian had been—the divine ability that surpassed all else.
Arcen burst into continuous laughter.
“Count Ian, you said I made a mistake, didn’t you? Well. It seems the mistake was yours. Standing with that dull Jin instead of me. Tsk, tsk.”
Everyone turned to look at Ian. Even Prince Gail couldn’t hide his bewildered expression. He had watched Arcen since birth until now, yet he had never suspected he possessed the qualities of a Mage.
“…Is this an illusion?”
“Brother Gail, have you forgotten the blessings of the imperial house? Mind control magic doesn’t work on us. If you try to kill me, then I also… Cough!”
Arcen, who had been speaking fluently, coughed up blood. Chunks of blood spilled from his mouth in succession, quickly soaking the floor. Whether in pain, Arcen’s bloodshot eyes widened as he let out a terrible scream.
Clang!
“Your Highness! Are you alright, gasp! Are you alright?”
“Prince Arcen! Your Highness!”
Medical personnel rushed in, summoned by the guard’s call.
With Prince Gail holding his sword and Arcen collapsing while spewing blood, the guards who didn’t understand the situation subdued Prince Gail and pinned him to the bed.
Clang!
Prince Gail’s sword clattered to the floor.
He swallowed his painful groans and stared blankly at the door through which Arcen had left. If Arcen truly was a Mage, then he and Marib could never seize the throne no matter what they did. What was this thing called fate that it could be so cruel? Prince Gail buried his face into the bed as the guards pressed down on him.
“Count Ian.”
Nersaren called to Ian cautiously. He was asking what should be done now.
“…The first Emperor Mage.”
“Count Ian?”
“Ha! Hahaha!”
Nersaren flinched. Ian was laughing. It was genuine laughter, born from sheer absurdity.
“…This is maddening.”
Before the true first Emperor Mage, to dare speak of that position.
Several Warriors peered through the gap in the door and urgently called out.
“Should we chase after him? If he leaves like this, won’t that become a real problem?”
I shook my head. If I had decided to build the image of an Imperial Mage, my close associates would likely know about such circumstances. If something happened to Arcen’s condition, it would be a blunder on my part. Rather, I was fortunate he hadn’t died by Gail’s hand.
‘The first mage to emerge from the imperial family. Neither of them makes sense. History has taught me this. That first one was me.’
Based on the history I knew, it couldn’t be. If what Arcen had just displayed was magical power in every sense….
‘Then he’s not a member of the imperial family.’

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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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