Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 232

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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 232
The Imperial Blood
“Arcen!”
“Let go of him!”
As the two drew closer, Deilaina gasped and hurriedly tried to pry the boy away.
But Arcen’s gaze remained fixed fiercely upon me, like a young beast that had discovered an amusing toy. He roughly brushed aside his mother’s hand and seized me by the collar.
“How entertaining.”
“….”
Arcen’s eyes gleamed. He had opened his power once more. I felt the raw force erupting from the depths of his senses, but the moment it touched me, it dissipated.
Crack!
The bones on the back of Arcen’s hand holding my collar turned white as they fractured.
How could I forget? The Emperor had experienced it, Marib had experienced it, and both Gail and Jin had as well.
By their very existence alone, they proved the absolute protection of divinity, and Arcen could not help but recognize his limitations. Precisely like those bones on the back of his hand.
“You’re of imperial blood? Hmm? That’s strange. Where did this come from?”
Arcen whispered softly to himself. His cheeks flushed with excitement. Now that he understood something extraordinary, how could he best use this knowledge?
The more his mind raced, the more laughter escaped him. As the boy’s shoulders trembled with quiet giggles, Deilaina watched her son with bewilderment. It was unfamiliar, and that unfamiliarity frightened her.
“…How demon-like your conduct appears. Look at the eyes of those who gaze upon you.”
I withdrew my hand calmly and firmly, muttering the words.
Arcen’s vision, which had been clouded by excitement, suddenly cleared. Deilaina and the ministers, the priests, even the mages—all watched us with expressions of shock and confusion.
“Ah.”
But what did it matter? Arcen’s power had been neutralized the moment it touched me, leaving no trace.
His behavior was peculiar, certainly, but what of it? Could it not be dismissed as merely a contest of will between two men on the eve of great events?
“Mother. Let us stop here.”
“Oh? Yes, yes.”
When Arcen smiled sweetly, Deilaina reluctantly lifted the corners of her mouth as well. He was always such an affectionate son. Surely his outburst just now was because I had spoken harshly to him.
“Count Ian. I find myself equally eager for tomorrow as you are. Truly, how remarkable.”
He shook his head and clicked his tongue, and his sincerity was unmistakable. Arcen boarded the carriage with Deilaina, and the officials who had regained their senses followed in its wake. The procession that had swept in so dramatically disappeared one by one down the path from which it had come.
Neigh!
Deilaina and Arcen sat facing each other.
His mother carefully grasped the back of his hand. Arcen, who had been glaring out the window—or more precisely, at me beyond it—turned with a smile. Pure delight was evident in his expression.
“Arcen. What did Ian say to you just now?”
“Why? What good would knowing do you?”
“If it were words that might wound you—”
“How many children has Father sired?”
“Hmm?”
Including the Third Prince who had died from a fall, those with claims to succession ended with Jin. Below him were children born to women of no status within the palace, so it was correct to say they held no significance.
“About a dozen or so. But you need not worry. They all live as though dead beyond the palace walls. If you merely secure your position as heir, no one will dare challenge you.”
“I see. Is that so?”
Arcen replied without particular interest. His mind was occupied solely with Philia, whom he had seen at Gail’s residence.
She was stamped from the same mold, so identical that his birth mother must be correct, but then would his father be of imperial blood? I had heard he was a bastard of the exterminated Count Derga?
‘How should I weave this together? Hmm? Jin, do you know?’
Whether woven one way or another, something amusing was bound to unfold. Arcen couldn’t help but burst into laughter once more.
“Ahahaha!”
The blessings of the imperial family and all that—meaningless now. I’m merely one step away from seizing the empire itself. And now Ian’s secret has fallen into my lap. Nothing could be more fortuitous than this.
Tap tap tap!
Meanwhile, Romandro approached Ian as the carriage receded into the distance. Ian brushed dust from his disheveled clothes with a wave of his hand, insisting he was fine. Vivid red nail marks marred his pale neck—clearly scratched when Arcen had seized him by the collar.
“I-Ian. Are you alright?”
“What on earth happened? Why did Lord Arcen act like that?”
“Oh! There are scratches on your neck!”
Everyone hovered anxiously around him, afraid to touch.
After adjusting his garments, Ian turned to regard the High Priest and the priests. Though their robes obscured their expressions, they huddled close together, whispering in evident distress. The moment they’d entered the palace, they’d sensed something was terribly amiss.
“Come now, let us proceed. The people of the empire await outside. The High Priest and Langko, follow me.”
The moment Ian snapped his fingers, the dazed gatekeepers startled and sprang into action. They transferred the priests’ belongings to the carriage and scrambled to clear the scene. Whatever had transpired, when superiors clashed, it was always the subordinates who bled. Removing oneself was the wisest course.
“Pardon me, Minister Ian.”
“Speak.”
High Priest Lili, walking behind Ian, called out cautiously. This was not the imperial palace they had envisioned. While it had never been a place overflowing with love and hope, such a precarious and chaotic atmosphere was unprecedented. The imperial palace was the center of the world—it should stand firm, bearing that weight steadily.
“What has transpired in the imperial palace? Isolated as we are from the outside world, we are ignorant of current affairs. Beyond the peculiar behavior of Lady Deilaina and Lord Arcen, where is Lord Jin?”
“Lord Jin has taken residence in the Magic Ministry’s quarters.”
“The Magic Ministry?”
“Before that, Priest Langko.”
“Yes?”
Ian halted abruptly. Before meeting Avidel and Macael, there was something he needed to clarify.
“When you received the divine revelation, what was the voice of the god like?”
“The voice of the god? My humble ability cannot adequately express such majesty.”
A faint reverence colored his voice as Langko seemed to relive that glorious moment. Ian pressed further with quiet insistence.
“I ask of your memory. I too understand the god’s greatness. Interestingly, Avidel and Macael’s descriptions were quite intriguing.”
“…It resonated deeply and heavily, as though the ground beneath my feet trembled. Each word struck my heart with tremendous weight.”
His account aligned more closely with Macael’s claim of heaviness than with Avidel’s assertion of a thin voice.
Ian nodded as though he’d expected this. Then he recalled the brilliant gleam in Arcen’s eyes.
‘He tried to use force against me just now.’
Ian touched his neck. Arcen had clearly attempted to use ‘brainwashing,’ a form of mental magic.
It was his most potent technique, and given his subsequent mention of the imperial family, it seemed he’d been thwarted by ‘nullification.’
‘The imperial family’s blessing remains intact, which means I am still Ian.’
Not a bastard Ian, but Emperor Ian.
He turned to Romandro and issued an order.
“Assign additional personnel to Prince Gail’s quarters.”
“Additional personnel? Why?”
Arcen had begun to doubt Ian’s bloodline. If so, he would naturally investigate and target Philia, his biological mother. Less than a day remained. The likelihood of Arcen exposing this in the palace was nearly zero—who would believe him, and what benefit would it bring him anyway?
‘If I, the Magic Minister, am of imperial blood, then Arcen’s claim of being the first imperial mage would be invalidated. Rather than making an official statement, he’ll use this as a means to destabilize those around me.’
Philia.
…or perhaps Jin.
Romandro stared intently at me, waiting for a response to his question. When I noticed his gaze, I simply smiled and walked ahead.
“Did you not witness Arcen’s outrageous behavior earlier? I merely worry about what might happen.”
Philia has Nersaren and the warriors at her side, and moreover, there are limited political options available to her.
But Jin? The boy stands in the very eye of the political storm, and no matter what form it takes, my secrets could be weaponized to shake him.
‘I will protect Jin’s side myself.’
“Let us depart.”
I personally opened the carriage door and guided High Priest Lili and Langko inside. Once they entered the isolated, sealed space, I revealed my true purpose.
“Avidel’s oracle was false.”
“…Pardon? What are you saying now?”
“Ten years ago, what she heard was not the voice of God, but the voice of a demon. It was the machinations of a demon who despised Roberside and sought to bring ruin upon Bariel. I am certain that demon is Arcen.”
The High Priest, instead of answering, pulled back his robe. As I suspected, sparse white hair and wrinkles like ancient wood bore the weight of years. The elder furrowed his brows in bewilderment.
“…I was not even this shocked when I first heard the oracle. Are you truly Ian of the Magic Ministry? This is the Carbo Temple. Carbo, which has stood since the founding.”
Meanwhile, Langko lowered his head and clasped his hands together, trembling with fear. He seemed to be praying for forgiveness for this irreverent statement.
“I understand. I do not expect you to believe me immediately. But right now, your understanding is not what matters. The Mana Verification Ceremony draws near, and I will expose the truth.”
“Lord Ian.”
“What I ask for is one thing.”
Tap tap tap!
The carriage lurched violently. The High Priest stumbled and grasped the armrest, but his bewildered gaze remained fixed upon me, unwavering.
“I would ask that you, with your long experience, make one final confirmation—whether the Mana Verification Ceremony I have prepared is feasible. And should you glimpse a demon…”
Splash!
The carriage wheel cut cleanly through a puddle. In that moment, the faint rainbow I had seen in the Magic Ministry’s garden flickered in my mind. This very instant, as I rushed forward, was what had conjured that rainbow.
“Help me dispose of the demon, and grant Jin a new life. That is the only way to atone for Carbo’s mistake.”
“Lord Ian. What on earth—”
Just as the High Priest was about to protest, the Magic Ministry building came into view through the window. Avidel and Macael stood upon the steps, their faces bare without their robes, tears streaming down as they rushed toward us.
‘This cannot be.’
Though Lili found it unbelievable, she did not voice her doubt. For I had not asked for her words, but for her faith. She fell silent for a moment, tracing the sign of the cross with her fingertips. Again and again, continuously.
* * *
Clink.
Prince Gail stirred his soup with a spoon. Sure enough, something round emerged once more.
A bead slightly larger than a pill. He set it aside and struck it lightly, shattering it. With a sharp sound, a tightly rolled piece of paper revealed itself.
“How absurd.”
The rumors of my exile to Luswena had spread far faster than anticipated. Every meal brought soup and bread embedded with paper scraps—all contact attempts from those who wished to follow me to Luswena.
Prince Gail pressed his forehead in irritation.
Knock knock.
“Your Highness. I heard the sound of breaking glass. Are you well?”
“….”
Philia poked her head in. Instead of answering, I pushed the bowl away and told her to clear the meal. Already, five notes had accumulated in my drawer—notes bearing the distinct handwriting of the traitors Ian sought.
“I worry that your meals have become sparse lately.”
“What is there to worry about? I shall die anyway.”
“…I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you for dinner tomorrow. Count Ian is holding a mana verification ceremony, and I really should attend.”
Philia laughed awkwardly as she cleared the dishes, though her fingertips trembled ever so slightly—a result of hearing the palace rumors late. On the day of the mana verification ceremony, one of them would die: either Lord Arcen or Count Ian.
“Why?”
“Ah, you haven’t heard the rumors, Your Highness.”
Philia hesitated before relaying the palace gossip. The rumor that Arcen was a demon, or if not, that Ian would die. Prince Gail’s eyes widened, and he slowly turned his head.
“What?”
“That’s why I want to go. Even if my presence won’t change much, I’m worried about what might happen.”
‘…Arcen is a demon?’
Prince Gail bit his cigarette thoughtfully, uncertain how the situation would unfold. But one thing was certain…
“Philia.”
“Yes?”
“Do me a favor.”
Philia tilted her head while holding the plate. A favor? How could His Highness the Prince ask her for such a thing?
“Tomorrow, take me to the mana verification ceremony as well.”

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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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