Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 24

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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 24. Nersaren
“Good heavens! What brings the Cheonryeo Tribe to this place…?”
I shared the same curiosity. Why had the Cheonryeo Tribe traveled all this way to Bratz territory? It was a three-day ride from their encampment to these lands—surely Kusile wouldn’t have made such a journey for trivial reasons.
‘This appears to be an unscheduled visit.’
Had this been a planned meeting, Hena would have known. She would have been occupied with preparations since yesterday.
I noticed the Cheonryeo tribesmen’s gazes turning toward me.
“They’re… looking this way.”
“Ugh…”
Berik merely let out a strained groan from behind. The tribesmen conferred among themselves briefly, then split into two groups. The one who appeared to be their leader passed through the Main Gate toward the main house, while his subordinates approached me.
“Oh, they’re coming! They’re coming this way!”
Any resident of Bratz territory would react as Hena did.
They were the enemy we’d maintained an uneasy truce with for so long—mysterious beings wielding transcendent power, savage and unknowable. She couldn’t hide her alarm, fear, and excitement.
“Hena. There’s no need to panic.”
“But they’re the Cheonryeo Tribe! And why is that bird so enormous?”
“They arrived without any obstruction. They mean no harm.”
As I reassured Hena, the Cheonryeo tribesman studied me carefully.
“Pardon me.”
The man who approached looked down at me from atop Kusile. His sharp eyes, lacking double eyelids, were positively intimidating. They scrutinized my hair and facial features with meticulous intensity.
“Are you Ian, the second son of Count Bratz?”
“I am. And who might you be?”
Hena quietly slipped behind me. For a borderlands native, he spoke Bariel remarkably fluently.
“I’ve come bearing an urgent message from the Cheonryeo Tribe. It seems I must meet with the Count as well. Would it be possible to go up together now?”
An urgent message, then.
Given that he was requesting my accompaniment, this was surely related to the peace accord. I nodded and gestured to Hena.
“Once training is finished, give Berik some fruit and cool water.”
At that very moment, Berik’s face crumpled. The implication was clear—continue training even in my absence.
“Ian! Ian!”
Sure enough, servants came rushing out from the main house, calling for me. I turned away from the tribesman and climbed toward Count Derga’s Study. The atmosphere was tense, and the butler stood with his hands clasped in evident bewilderment.
“Father. You called for me?”
“Come closer.”
The leader who had entered the main house first was seated on the sofa. Countless deep scars marked his neck and shoulders.
Count Derga grasped my shoulder with a warm smile, his grip firm with purpose.
“Ian. Pay your respects. This is Nersaren, an envoy of the Cheonryeo Tribe and brother to Kakantir, the tribal leader.”
The Count’s grip tightened—a reminder to stay sharp. Everything I’d done until now had been practice for this very moment, for their eyes.
“It is an honor to meet you. I am Ian Bratz.”
His dark eyes swept over me from head to toe. He then pressed his hands together in what appeared to be a prayer—the Cheonryeo custom—and responded.
“Balamei chin Nersaren.”
“What brings you here?”
Count Derga interjected, as if doubting my readiness. Though tea hadn’t even been served yet, Nersaren answered without hesitation.
“We must adjust the schedule for the peace accord.”
There was no point in beating around the bush—they were direct to the point. It spoke to their nature, but more importantly, it revealed how urgent the situation had become.
“Tribal Chief Winchen’s health has deteriorated suddenly. Though she is advanced in years and has had chronic ailments, this is the first time she has taken to her bed. Only the divine knows what lies ahead, so we wish to prepare for all possibilities.”
It was due to the Cheonryeo Tribe’s funeral customs. When a family member died, they would seclude themselves for a year to pray for the deceased’s rest with the divine, and when a leader died, all tribe members had to participate together.
Until now, the deaths of tribal chiefs had been caused by rebellion, so those stripped of their positions never received such honors and conducted the ceremony only with their families.
But what of this tribal chief called Winchen?
Even Count Derga dared not know when her reign had begun—she was the very root of the Cheonryeo Tribe. If they secluded themselves as a collective, the peace ceremony would naturally become impossible. This was why her brother had rushed here in haste to adjust the dates.
‘Considering this is enemy territory, it makes sense that the tribal chief’s brother would come.’
“Are you saying you wish to move the date forward?”
“Indeed.”
Tribal Chief Winchen was a gypsy who could discern lies. Now that a new peace offering was entering the community, she wanted to obscure Ian’s impurity with her ability.
“Therefore, we humbly seek your understanding, Count and Ian. We would be grateful if you would consider this an act of consideration for peace.”
Though she used respectful language befitting her position as a supplicant, the nuance was decidedly ambiguous. Refuse, and there would be no peace—instead, they would smell blood once more. It was coercion dressed as a request.
Count Derga concealed his displeasure with a dry cough before asking.
“We have barely a month and some days remaining. How much earlier do you wish to move it?”
“We would prefer to proceed with minimal ceremony.”
Nersaren added that even this coming weekend would be possible.
The Count chose silence instead of answering. This presented a considerable problem—he would need to send Mollin to the Capital immediately to proceed with the registration.
‘If I cannot match the timing, there’s no help for it….’
The only option was to conduct the peace ceremony first.
After all, registration was merely a matter of paperwork and had nothing to do with the Cheonryeo Tribe. They would only care whether Count Derga’s blood flowed through Ian’s veins, and they would take Winchen’s word over hundreds of documents.
“…Have you not grown weary from riding so hard these past days?”
“It is manageable. This much is nothing.”
“That may be true for you, but surely not for Kusile?”
Returning to the Great Desert meant having to brave the sandstorms again. For Kusile, already worn from fatigue, the schedule would certainly be grueling.
“Stay for tonight, and depart tomorrow morning. How does that suit you?”
It meant he would give his answer then. For Count Derga, it was proper to discuss this matter with Mollin and set the date accordingly.
Nersaren’s brow furrowed slightly at the evasive response, but that was all.
“…Thank you for your kindness.”
“Think nothing of it. It is only natural for a friend of our ally. Butler! Prepare rooms for our guests!”
The butler, who had been waiting outside, promptly entered and led the guests away. Once Nersaren and his men had left the study, Ian turned to look at Count Derga. He was lost in thought, gnawing at the edge of his fingernail.
‘Is it really something to worry over so much? How unexpected.’
The registration certificate could only be issued from the Imperial Palace, so even if he applied immediately, it would take time. Since the Cheonryeo Tribe had changed the date first, it mattered little if they received it late.
The preparations for the peace ceremony had only just begun anyway. What mattered was the agreement itself, and if the intent aligned, it could be done this coming weekend as Nersaren suggested.
‘It doesn’t seem like he’s trying to extract something.’
There was no room for negotiation. The exchange list was already finalized, and if Winchen died, the fate of the peace ceremony would be uncertain. For Count Derga, cooperating as much as possible was advantageous in every way. It would secure his position of strength in future dealings.
“Father?”
Ian called to him. The nail-picking had grown increasingly intense. It was a question tinged more with bewilderment than concern. At the sound of the boy’s voice, the Count suddenly came to himself.
“…Have you not left yet?”
“I was wondering whether I should attend to the guests as well.”
Surely he needed some indication before he could leave.
At Ian’s words, Count Derga waved his hand dismissively, signaling him to stay confined to his room without causing unnecessary trouble.
“Nersaren is the chieftain’s cherished younger brother. He’s far too perceptive—don’t even think of handling him carelessly.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Is anyone outside?”
“No, sir.”
“Prepare the carriage! Hurry!”
Count Derga shouted as he grabbed his coat, clearly about to rush off to share the situation with Mollin.
Ian turned and glanced at the study door. The makeshift bedroom remained firmly locked. With the Steward absent, things would surely be chaotic inside.
‘The timing is remarkable.’
Had I delayed any longer, Mollin would have returned to the Capital without receiving the letter. I felt as though I was receiving divine favor.
As I emerged with a faint smile, I spotted Berik sprawled out. Hena was diligently fanning him beside him.
“Young master! Did you finish your business? What on earth was it about?”
“Nothing serious. It seems the date of the peace ceremony will be changed. Have you already toured the entire Garden?”
“Can you tell just by looking? I’m dying here, damn it! Ugh….”
“Those Cheonryeo Tribe members won’t be staying long at the Manor, will they? Earlier, the Butler guided them to the Guest House.”
Hena continued fanning without pause as she chattered. Outsiders couldn’t be kept in the main residence, and besides, there had been that unsavory incident in the study recently. The Guest House, on the other hand, had plenty of rooms for receiving visitors. They were probably assigned to the floor above mine.
‘The surveillance will be intense.’
Soldiers would surround and guard the building all night. Still, if I set my mind to it, I could easily make contact. After all, they were the ‘peace’ delegation. It wouldn’t do to station guards right at their door.
“Young master. Should I ask the Butler to change your room for tonight?”
Hena asked worriedly. She seemed uneasy about sharing a building with the Cheonryeo Tribe. I shook my head and laughed.
“No need. From now on, they’re people I’ll be living alongside. Berik, pull yourself together and follow me. Hena, go about your duties now.”
At my firm command, Berik staggered to his feet. I watched him quietly, then grabbed his forehead and pushed my mana into him.
Zzzzzt—
“I said get your head straight.”
“Damn. You give poison and then the cure….”
“Think of it as the whip and the carrot.”
Ptooey! Berik spat out bitter saliva and finally managed to move his feet. Gradually, his gait became steady. As we entered the Guest House, I heard the anxious chatter of the servants.
“Did you see? He’s much bigger than I thought!”
“That’s why they say even a dozen soldiers couldn’t take him down. Phew. Like a beast.”
“What should we serve for food? The Butler didn’t say anything special, did he?”
“Since they’re savages, wouldn’t they just eat raw meat if we gave it to them?”
Whether ignorance or malice.
I clicked my tongue and made my presence known. The servants greeted me without much surprise.
‘It’s ignorance.’
“I hear we have a guest?”
“There was no suitable room, so we’ve lodged them on the floor above yours, sir. You’ll be sleeping in the main residence tonight.”
“Should we post an all-night watch?”
“You must lock your door and sleep!”
I gave instructions while trying to let their words go in one ear and out the other.
“Never mind that. Prepare some light refreshments and wine with care and bring them up. This isn’t a meal, so don’t mention it to the Butler.”
Because he’d arrived like a sudden gust of wind, I hadn’t been able to offer tea in my study—an inexcusable breach of courtesy for a nobleman toward a guest who’d ridden hard for days. Count Derga had insisted I needn’t worry about it, but I had no intention of letting the matter rest.
Knock, knock.
“Ian Bratz. I beg your pardon for the intrusion.”
“…Come in.”
I entered with servants carrying trays. Like beasts trapped in a cage, they all stood rigidly in place. The servants fumbled nervously as they arranged food on the table.
“You must be famished from your long journey. Please, refresh yourself. Since this visit was so sudden, everyone’s preparations are a bit behind. I hope you’ll forgive us.”
At my greeting, Nersaren stepped closer. He looked down at me from above, as though observing some fascinating creature. It was the gaze of those regarding each other as unfamiliar beasts.
“When I saw you earlier, I was puzzled—you look nothing like the Count. I wondered how the bloodlines of the Great Empire’s nobility could differ so vastly.”
At the leader’s blunt jest, his subordinates burst into laughter. Nersaren turned his head cleanly and gestured to them with his eyes—a signal to eat.
“But now that I look closer, you’re certainly a nobleman.”
Whether praise or mockery, whether respectful or dismissive—the subtle nuance persisted. Nersaren added with a faint smile.
“A compliment, young master Ian.”
If Count Derga held their leashes, then these men held blades to their own throats. But…
‘Soon, your blades will become my blades.’
I stood before him and smiled brightly, then approached with calm composure.

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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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