Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 243

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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 243
Episode: Purge Upon the Bed
Viviana, who had been nursing Romandro, heard news of Ian and sought out his office. The mages passing through murmured in relief that he had regained consciousness remarkably quickly for someone who had suffered such severe blood loss.
She carried a tray with warm tea around the corner and found Philia standing before a half-open door. Viviana called out in surprise.
“Countess?”
“Oh, hello.”
“What are you doing here? Why haven’t you gone in?”
“I heard he had awakened, but when I peeked in just now, he seemed to be conversing with the mages. I was waiting, worried I might be intruding.”
Philia smiled bashfully, fidgeting with her fingertips. On the corridor windowsill sat a bowl of barley porridge, grown cold—a testament to how long she had been waiting.
“When Ian was young and fell ill, he always wanted barley porridge. Though with the imperial palace overflowing with delicacies, I suppose he won’t eat such things anymore.”
“The foods we remember from childhood are what we crave most during our darkest hours, Countess. Please don’t worry—come in with me.”
“Ah, do you think so? Ha ha. I would like that.”
What a delicate wildflower of a woman, Viviana thought with a bittersweet smile. How could someone with features so identical to Ian’s possess such a gentle temperament? Viviana opened the door and ushered her inside, and Philia nodded shyly as she entered.
Creak.
“Count Ian?”
Viviana stepped forward to announce their presence but stopped short. The small bedroom adjoining the office was wide open, and Ian was clearly visible—buried among plush pillows and cushions, turning through documents.
Snap.
“How is Romandro doing, Countess?”
“What in the world are you doing?!”
Viviana was aghast. After bleeding so profusely, the moment he regained consciousness, he was already working? Either Ian had lost his mind, or she was seeing things.
Heil, who had been channeling mana beside him, spun around in alarm.
“Countess, are you all right?”
“All right?! How could I be all right?! Count Ian, what is the meaning of this? Have you never heard the term ‘absolute rest’? Who in their right mind hands reports to you the moment you open your eyes? Who?”
Heil instantly became that person of sound judgment and clamped his mouth shut. As Viviana’s shock intensified, Ian deliberately waved the documents at her to calm her down.
“I’m lying down, am I not?”
“Lying down doesn’t solve everything!”
Why in the world did the Magic Ministry have a bed table anyway?
Whether or not Ian understood Viviana’s inner thoughts, he tapped the wooden surface with satisfaction and smiled. Everything was cushioned and fixed at the perfect angle—he only needed to move his wrists. As he leisurely lifted his head, Viviana pressed her palm to her forehead.
“How is Romandro?”
“He has not fully awakened yet, but he has improved enough to eat meals when he does stir.”
“I feel sorry for him.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I have the aid of mages, but your husband must overcome this entirely through his own strength.”
Snap.
Ian turned another page of the documents. Exhaustion still clung to him, yet his gaze remained steady. He gestured with only his fingertips, urging Heil onward—to continue channeling mana without pause.
“Ah yes, Countess Philia. Please come in. It’s all right.”
Viviana spun around in alarm. Having gasped and nearly collapsed the moment she entered the office, Philia had frozen at the threshold in shock. Ian turned his head slightly and called to her.
“Mother?”
“Ian.”
She appeared hesitantly, still holding the tray. Seeing her, Ian settled deeper into the cushions and smiled gently. This was his son who had walked the edge of death, drenched in blood. This small smile was a gesture of kindness to ease her worry.
“You must have been worried quite a bit?”
“I, I brought barley porridge.”
“Thank you. I was just getting hungry.”
Heil’s expression turned puzzled. Hadn’t I rejected all the food brought up from the kitchen, claiming I had no appetite due to extreme exhaustion? Moreover, I’d insisted that a full stomach would only make it harder to fight off sleep, so I’d been sustaining my body’s energy with mana alone.
“However, my stomach still feels a bit unsettled, so I’ll eat it later if that’s alright.”
Right. That made sense—there was no way I’d eat now. Heil nodded briefly and refocused on channeling mana.
Zzzzng. Zzng.
“Yes. It, it would be better warmed up.”
“Of course. I’ll have the servants see to it.”
Philia glanced at me with eyes full of emotion. Seeing me buried deep in the cushions, she was vividly reminded of how my son looked when he was young.
Ah. He was truly adorable back then.
He’s still cute now, but back then it was really…
“Mother, what’s the matter?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. And I have something else to give you.”
Philia snapped out of her reverie and waved her hand. Then, with urgent movements, she pulled out several notes from her pocket—crumpled things covered in food stains. At first I didn’t know what they were, but soon I understood, letting out a short, dry laugh.
“Prince Gail’s gift, I presume.”
Contact from a defector using rumors of exile. I hadn’t expected him to cooperate and gather evidence like this. So I’d been pondering how to handle it later, but now things would be much easier.
“Though His Highness burned one of the papers. I tried to salvage at least half of it, but it turned completely to ash.”
“It’s fine. Thank you, Mother.”
At my words of gratitude, Philia broke into a bright smile. The satisfaction of having been helpful rippled outward through her expression.
This was likely less a favor to me and more a token of appreciation left for Philia, who had eaten with him so faithfully.
‘Let me take a look.’
I flipped through the papers one by one, checking their contents. Some bore names written in his own hand, others didn’t. The handwriting was clear enough that comparing them shouldn’t be difficult.
“…Heil.”
“Yes, Count Ian. I’m continuing to channel mana.”
“Over there, the two compartments from the left of that bookshelf in the middle—that’s where the important reports are stored. Check the list and bring me the reports each person submitted. And summon Dainels, Brennan, and Patrick. Ah, and call the Imperial Palace’s handwriting expert as well. Usually two or three are on staff, so at least one should still be at the palace.”
At the flood of orders, Heil hesitated for a moment. But without questioning, he immediately stood and called his subordinates from outside the office. While he moved busily about, I continued flipping through the reports without pause.
“Count Ian. Are you really going to keep working?”
“Th, that’s right. Ian. You’ve lost so much blood…”
“I’ll just handle the most urgent matters first and rest afterward. Everything has its proper timing, after all.”
By eliminating Arcen, the insects clinging around him were now scurrying about in confusion. If I didn’t catch them now, they would escape. Then they would lay eggs again in hidden places, gnaw away, and someday crawl back out into the light.
‘So that’s what His Highness Jhin meant.’
The countermeasures meeting wasn’t recorded, only passed to me through Captain Heil’s direct report. How to record Gail’s death in history, what to do with those who were sacrificed, and so on.
However, since the matter of determining the validity of the accusation was separate from Arcen’s case, it could be documented as a report like this.
‘Yes. That deserves praise.’
I found myself smiling without realizing it. He had made excellent use of the gathering of all the officials. And since the order in which they raised their hands was recorded, this showed rather aggressive intent in building his faction.
As I chuckled, Viviana and Philia exchanged glances, their eyes questioning. Why was I reading the report as if it were an entertaining novel?
Knock knock.
Just then, a mage brought word from outside.
“Count Ian. The Prime Minister has arrived.”
“The Prime Minister? Very well.”
The two ladies urged me to rest and left, and soon after, the Prime Minister arrived at my office with his aides in tow. His salt-and-pepper hair seemed to have grown even whiter. The wrinkles on his face appeared deeper as well….
‘He must have had quite the ordeal at the Grand Council.’
“Good to see you, Prime Minister.”
The Prime Minister seemed momentarily flustered upon seeing me buried in cushions, but he gestured for me to remain lying down and pulled a chair closer to the bed.
“Please, continue resting. How is your body feeling?”
“Thank you. As you can see, I’m managing well.”
“Good. It does seem that way. That’s a relief.”
He said this upon noticing the reports in my hands. Seizing the moment, I raised my upper body further and straightened my pen. I began by writing down the names of the mages.
“The Ministry of Magic is currently identifying traitors.”
“Traitors? What do you mean by that?”
“I cannot disclose the details, but a considerable number of them appear to have connections to Duke Haiman. Their collusion effectively contributed to the Arcen incident, and as the head of the Ministry of Magic, I believe appropriate punishment is warranted.”
Even if it weren’t the Ministry of Magic, no superior would remain idle if their subordinates were in league with the opposition. However, given the circumstances, the Prime Minister expressed his concerns.
“What sort of punishment? The Ministry of Magic is already understaffed, is it not? Every single person is precious. This is not merely a problem for the Ministry of Magic—it’s a problem for the entire empire.”
“If there are traitors among the deceased, I will record them as treason tied to Prince Gail’s death. For the others, I will demote them and keep them in those reduced positions.”
Execution would be excessive given the value of talented individuals, and sending them to remote regions or foreign lands would be far too risky. How could I know what mages might do where no one is watching, or whom they might conspire with?
The reason the empire’s mages are gathered in the capital is partly because their numbers are small, but ultimately, it reflects the imperial palace’s intention to control them effectively.
“Demotion. Quintana will be pleased.”
Salary cuts, loss of various privileges, and the scorn of returning colleagues. Since people cannot be reformed, it’s better to simply discard them at the bottom of the barrel.
“And I’ve heard reports that Duke Haiman and his key associates are currently in custody. Under charges of insulting the imperial family and causing a disturbance, that’s at most three days, correct? Do you think a trial date will be set before then?”
“Yes. The Judiciary is also trying to cooperate as much as possible. You see, when the Ministry of Magic submitted its accusation, the entire Judiciary was conspicuously absent, which has become a matter of public discussion. It’s becoming nearly certain that Duke Haiman had a hand in it.”
In fact, the Judiciary was in a state of great alarm and shock. They, who were regarded as paragons of integrity and honesty, had unknowingly fallen under Duke Haiman’s influence, and it had proven quite effective—an atmosphere of caution now permeated their ranks.
Scratch.
I slowly murmured as I wrote.
“More than anything else….”
“Hmm?”
“We must focus on returning the assets of the Haimanga and the central nobility to the state treasury. That will be the driving force that moves everyone. Please ensure it’s done thoroughly—including the Duchess Haiman and her children.”
Each department of the imperial palace was anticipating support through securing the national budget, and this was a major reason for their cooperative stance. The same applied to the nobility at odds with Duke Haiman. Sereo, for instance—wasn’t his purpose to exploit the division of the Haimanga’s assets and seize his opportunity?
“If the charge of rebellion is established, it will result in the extermination of the entire family, so the return to the state treasury would follow naturally. But if variables arise before that, it could be problematic. Wasn’t the Duchess Haiman said to be from Ruswena?”
“Ah, yes. Count Ian. That’s precisely why I came by. An envoy from Ruswena has arrived, and it seems Duke Haiman summoned them.”
“Is that so?”
“They were originally scheduled to depart this morning, but all of them came down with severe stomach troubles and are now bedridden.”
The Prime Minister also knew this was intentional. However, the tea served at the imperial palace was at the center of the incident, and they weren’t asking for anything else—merely requesting a few more days to rest and recover. One cannot harshly expel an envoy from another nation, so it’s truly troublesome.
I raised my eyebrows and murmured.
“…Hmm. They’re bringing trouble upon themselves.”
I scratched away with my pen, writing down instructions for what was to come.
“Prime Minister. The suppression of Duke Haiman and the central nobility is the cornerstone of strengthening imperial authority. This is the path toward becoming a great nation.”
“I concur.”
If imperial authority strengthens, the Prime Minister’s own power will diminish. Yet he agrees without the slightest hesitation. It seems the Emperor entrusted the position of Prime Minister to a truly capable man.
“It is time for a purge.”
A purge.
The Prime Minister nodded, accepting the report from Ian’s hands.
“And once this is concluded, we shall proceed with the official ceremony to appoint Jhin as the successor.”

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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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