Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 240

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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 240
Episode: Whispers
The Prime Minister paused, still gripping his gavel.
When was that? It hadn’t been so long ago.
Before the New Year’s gathering, officials from each ministry would convene every morning to discuss agenda items, and in the afternoons, these would be presented to His Majesty—a routine that had become daily practice.
But at some point, emergency councils for critical matters began to be summoned without warning. Ah, was it after the rebellion of Prince Marib and Prince Gail?
Regardless, both princes were already dead, and matters had come to this point. A council without a scribe! This carried significant implications for Bariel.
“I must inform you in advance. The council that is about to convene will have no scribe, which signifies our will not to record this for posterity. Whatever words are spoken here must leave no trace, and the moment you turn away, erase it from memory.”
The Ministry of Magic would assist in making this possible.
The mages were currently seeking appropriate methods to seal secrets. Perhaps a spell of forbidden speech or a potion; if that proved insufficient, they would even employ magical artifacts. In any case, Ian’s approval would still be necessary.
Thwack! Bang bang!
The Prime Minister struck his gavel forcefully to announce the session’s opening. Simultaneously, the doors shut firmly. Since not only officials but nobles as well were present, the air felt more oppressive than usual.
“It would have been preferable to have Count Ian present, but I trust you understand his absence given his physical condition. Instead, please refer to the reports distributed previously.”
The day when neither Haiman’s nor Arcen’s factions had attended—precisely, the meeting where a council decision could not be obtained regarding the receipt of the accusation.
The report contained detailed accounts of the curse and oracle that had begun at the Carbo Temple, the “Chronicle of Roberside,” and testimonies from Jin and Avidel.
Rustle.
The sound of pages turning echoed softly from various places. Jin was no exception. With each sentence he read, he felt as though he were objectively retracing the remnants of his dead brother.
“Of course, these were merely suspicions raised at that time. Yet we all knew them to be true. The Carbo Temple ought to face appropriate punishment. Is there relevant legislation regarding this matter? Judiciary?”
“Since oracles do not possess legal force, there are as yet no precedents or case law. Moreover, since it was the work of a demon, there was no intent, making it difficult to charge even imperial deception or other crimes.”
“What if we allow the Carbo Temple to handle the matter internally? The temple surely has its own independent discipline.”
The remarks circulated one by one until they reached Jin, where they stopped. In truth, he was the primary victim of the oracle, so his opinion deserved the greatest weight.
“…I too believe it is right to entrust this to the temple. Though Avidel received the oracle incorrectly, when he learned its true nature, he did not turn away but aided Ian. His attitude to make amends was evident.”
Ten years had been agonizing, but he could not lose the future because of what was already lost.
Let emotions remain as emotions alone.
Do not allow them to lead to decisions.
Jin spoke thus, recalling Ian’s teachings.
“And I heard her cries. The Divine was moved with such pity as to offer comfort—her anguish was that profound. She had already fallen into the mire of suffering and knew not what to do; further punishment would be excessive.”
“If that is Your Highness Jin’s will….”
“Very well. We shall inform the Carbo Temple accordingly.”
Bang bang!
The Prime Minister swiftly concluded the resolution. Time was scarce. With the imperial palace sealed, they had to expedite matters before unfounded rumors spread to the outside. He adjusted his spectacles and spoke that name aloud.
“Next is the matter concerning Prince Gail. Since Arcen’s records span merely ten years, it will be difficult but possible to erase them.”
Moreover, Arcen had been a mere child, overshadowed by Prince Marib and Prince Gail, receiving only royal instruction. He had never been recorded in imperial affairs or external activities, so erasing his records was not entirely impossible.
But Prince Gail?
“However, Prince Gail’s materials are vast. Since we cannot deny his existence, it would be better to rewrite the circumstances of his death.”
“I concur. Since the trial has not yet occurred, his princely status remains intact, and adding to the record is easier than erasing it, is it not?”
A sword had been driven directly into Arcen’s heart, yet no one knew. Not even Jin. Only the Divine and Ian, who had witnessed his final moments, remained silent.
“Then surely the charge of treason is already entangled? Let us record that he raised a rebellion and was suppressed. It will serve as an example for posterity, and the narrative flows naturally.”
“I concur.”
“What of the mages who died at the scene?”
“Hmm…”
The deaths and injuries of external factions—such as the rarely-visiting nobility—posed no significant problem. But the Mages were talents of the imperial household, assets of the Empire itself. They were figures whose names were recorded in history; their deaths could not be glossed over.
“Let us record them as having perished during the rebellion.”
“That seems appropriate.”
“There were many casualties at the time, so we can slip them into that gap.”
The officials were crafting gaps in history when Jin subtly raised his hand, cutting off their words.
“Unlike Prince Gail, the Mages bear no criminal charges. They fell defending Bariel, standing against demons—I believe we should honor their memory instead.”
“Ah, yes. That is indeed a fair point.”
One official stammered awkwardly in response, his mouth working soundlessly. After all, what was a Prince but a mere ten-year-old boy? And he had only recently begun attending council meetings in earnest.
“When Count Ian awakens, it would be best to coordinate the entire Department of Magic’s opinion before deciding. There is no urgent need to rush this matter.”
Everyone fell silent with uncomfortable laughter. Their attempt to entangle the Department of Magic’s casualties in the rebellion was, in the long view, an intention to check the Department’s power.
Now everyone knew of the Department’s contributions, and even if real authority were handed over, eventually it would fade, and in the future, their existence would be gauged only by records.
If they connected the Department of Magic to the rebellion, some future opponent—someone from the imperial faction—could use it conveniently. In any manner whatsoever.
“Your Highness.”
A voice tinged with laughter called to Jin. It was Duke Haiman. He wore a smile with only the corners of his mouth raised, an expression wholly alien—and his intent was transparent.
‘Ah, look at that young, foolish Prince. He’s ripe for the taking.’
“…Speak.”
“Binding the Mages’ deaths to the rebellion would benefit Your Highness. May I ask why you oppose it, and what your reasons might be?”
It was a demand to confess that there were no reasons, only that his calculations were short-sighted. The nobility whispered behind their fans, their expressions hidden from view.
Instead of answering, Jin slowly surveyed the council chamber, and soon discerned the hidden intent. They had survived thanks to Ian, yet now they were making the most of his absence.
Was it because this was a meeting without a scribe, one that would end and immediately evaporate? Was it because there was no entity to directly receive Ian’s objections, so they felt free to proceed?
“Did you not just state your reason? They are heroes who fell fighting demons—we should respect them to the utmost.”
As the Prince’s silence lengthened, Quintana stepped forward instead, salvaging the atmosphere. But Haiman merely kept his gaze fixed on Jin, smiling. It was clear disrespect, and pressure.
“They are already dead. Their deaths will not be recorded in history, yet you seem to strain yourselves to praise them.”
“…Duke Haiman.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Jin called out to Haiman with crystalline clarity. How pure and distinct his voice was, ringing cleanly. As he lifted his chin, the light caught his blue eyes, making them sparkle all the more.
“If the fate of those who died for the Empire is miserable, then who would step forward in times of crisis? Do not insult those who sacrificed. They acted for the greater good, and we have a duty to be grateful for it. Respecting their honor—that is the very least the living can do.”
Besides, who better than nobility should know this? When the Empire faced danger—in times of war, for instance—it was the nobility who were conscripted first and sacrificed most readily. Yet how could they make such statements?
“If one is the sort to merely watch while the Empire faces crisis, then naturally one cannot fathom the spirits of the sacrificed. Well, if anyone has a different opinion, please share it freely. I am still inexperienced, after all—this was merely a small personal view.”
If he said more, wouldn’t he become ‘one who merely watches while the Empire faces crisis’? As Jin smiled brightly as if understanding nothing, Quintana and the Prime Minister exchanged glances, barely concealing their surprise. Youth and inexperience were Jin’s absolute weaknesses. Yet rather than clumsily hiding or disguising them, he was laying them bare and wielding them as weapons.
‘Count Ian taught him well indeed. The manner differs, but he has firmly grasped that man’s momentum.’
This time, all eyes turned to Haiman. He bit the inside of his cheek as if exasperated, but soon composed himself and continued his argument.
“…No. I raised this only out of concern for Your Highness. Please do not misunderstand.”
“Misunderstand? Not at all. Isn’t that what a council is for? To find the best course, the existence of alternatives is equally important. Otherwise, how would we know the best is truly best?”
So he was subtly implying that Haiman’s statement was entirely useless. Quintana nearly gasped aloud. How entertaining, truly. The Prince harbored genuine venom.
And no wonder—his opponent was no ordinary noble, but Haiman. The central force that had checked Arcen, and the very essence of the nobility that had opposed Marib and Prince Gail’s rebellion from the start.
“However, Duke Haiman.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Are you well?”
Duke Haiman hesitated at the unexpected question. But Jin, feigning innocence, pressed on with his inquiry regardless.
“Apart from my mother, you had the most contact with Arcen when he was a demon, did you not?”
It was a pointed remark about his connection with the demon. Most of those present were people who had turned away after believing in Arcen’s magical power, so they all grew tense, nervously moistening their lips.
“Yes. I was brainwashed without realizing it and nearly committed treason. But the Mages and Priests have confirmed it twice, and they say there is no problem now.”
“Is that so? Brainwashing?”
If time passed and Ian awoke, this lie would be exposed. Yet Jin continued to nod his head slowly, as if deep in thought about something.
“However, Your Highness…”
Just as Duke Haiman was about to speak, a subordinate of the Prime Minister entered from outside and urgently conveyed something to him. The Prime Minister’s brow furrowed instantly as he looked at Haiman.
What was this about? Jin was about to ask in confusion, but the Prime Minister struck his gavel to silence him.
Thwack! Bang!
“My apologies. We shall take a recess of about an hour.”
Leaving the bewildered nobles behind, the Prime Minister whispered to Jin. With Marib and Gail absent, and even the Emperor away, he was the only one remaining in the imperial palace.
“Your Highness. An official delegation from Luswena has arrived. I shall meet with them first on my own authority, so please remain here for now.”
Luswena! Why now? Jin managed his expression while glancing toward Duke Haiman. He too was hastily discussing something with the other nobles. But they would have no way of knowing yet.
Once the Prime Minister left the conference hall, Duke Haiman casually inquired after him.
“Your Highness. Are you quite well?”
“I am fine.”
“It seems to be thanks to the imperial family’s blessing. I am relieved. But I must say, there is a most absurd rumor circulating. Could you perhaps confirm whether it is true?”
“What rumor?”
“They say that before the demon died, Count Ian left word that he was of imperial blood. Is this true?”
Quintana, who had risen to light a cigarette, turned around in disbelief. What nonsense was this? A question far beyond the bounds of reason. Duke Haiman has gone too far, she thought, and without thinking, she clicked her tongue in response.
“Duke. Your words are astounding. Even without a Scribe present, this is the imperial palace. Before His Highness, to say such a—”
“Even the High Priest, filled with sacred power, collapsed helplessly. Yet Count Ian remained unharmed. I merely wondered about this oddity. Why do you react so sensitively?”
As Quintana was about to snap back, breaking her cigarette holder with a crack, Jin stopped her with his hand. The boy continued to wear a smile.
“Duke. Ian is the Minister of the Magic Ministry. His magical power is exceptional, so naturally the demon’s schemes would not work on him, would they?”
Then he slowly rose and approached the Duke. Though it was a recess and everyone appeared to be attending to their own matters, they were subtly watching the two of them.
“And even if that were not the case, the demon might have deliberately excluded Ian and used his power to create confusion.”
“Yes. That is possible.”
“Ian as imperial blood? Haha. You seem to give more credence to the demon’s words than to one who has saved the imperial palace twice. Perhaps your brainwashing has not fully worn off? You should go to the Magic Ministry and undergo additional examination.”
As the boy drew closer, Duke Haiman also bowed slightly to meet his gaze. The claim that Ian was of imperial blood was merely a tool to create ripples. The true aim was to shake the bond between Ian and Jin. He made a very subtle suggestion—a whisper as tempting as a demon’s.
“I am merely concerned for Your Highness. Did the demon not say that Ian conceals his true intentions?”
“So—”
“So why not put it to the test?”
The matter of Ian’s appointment as Minister, which he had pushed through actively despite external opposition. No matter how one thought about it, it was an unnecessary endeavor, yet he had not abandoned it despite its illogic.
“The construction of the Magic Ministry’s annex would be appropriate. Since it is merely for expanding the Magic Ministry’s influence, I am curious to see how Ian will react if Your Highness opposes it.”

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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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