Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 244

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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 244
A Bloody Wind
“Your Highness.”
“Mmm….”
“It is time to wake.”
Xiaoxi gently roused me from sleep one last time, kneeling beside my bed with careful words.
I buried my face in the pillow and grumbled—not truly petulant, but the unconscious instinct of any child, even one born to the imperial family. Xiaoxi watched me for a moment before adding more.
“Count Ian awakened at dawn, it is said.”
“…What?”
“Once Your Highness rises, he asks that you prepare yourself and come to his office immediately. He said he has something to request of you.”
My half-closed eyes snapped open. The drowsy haze vanished as if washed away by cold water. I threw off the blankets and slipped my feet into slippers in one fluid motion.
“Count Ian is awake? How is his condition?”
“He appeared well, Your Highness. Will you go in your sleeping clothes?”
“Oh goodness. Wait. Wash water! Bring me wash water.”
I hurried about in a manner quite unlike myself.
Meanwhile, Xiaoxi calmly prepared my garments, checked the temperature of the water, and arranged my grooming tools in neat order.
I sat at the edge of the bed, watching him work. That brief moment of waiting calmed my excited heart.
“What did Count Ian wish to request?”
“I did not hear the details, but it seemed there was some matter for Your Highness to attend to.”
“Is that so?”
While being groomed, I kept glancing toward the door. Though I exercised restraint, even my servants noticed my restless energy. Their hands grew hurried in response.
“Your Highness. All is ready.”
“Well done.”
“Xiao, let us go.”
I dismissed my servants with a dignified gesture and left the bedchamber. At first my steps were measured, but with each stride they grew quicker. Tap-tap-tap! By the time we reached Ian’s office, I was breathing heavily.
Creak.
The door stood half-open, as if people had been coming and going on business. I announced myself carefully and peered inside.
“Count Ian?”
“Your Highness.”
Ian sat before his desk with a blanket draped across his shoulders. Though his complexion remained pallid, he was clearly more stable than when he had coughed blood.
Ian set down his documents and greeted me warmly.
“Good morning, Your Highness.”
“Good, good morning indeed!”
“Captain Heil reported to me what transpired. You accomplished great things at the grand council, it seems. I am grateful for what I could not do myself—how can I ever thank you?”
My dimples deepened as my smile bloomed. Like a flower bursting into full blossom, like sunset painting white clouds with color, I grinned widely, teeth gleaming.
“Think nothing of thanks! Are you truly well?”
“Thanks to you.”
Ian’s gaze drifted toward the sofa in the corner, where Captain Heil lay sprawled in a daze. He had been channeling mana without relief for hours, though I had no way of knowing this.
“But what is this matter? You said you had something to request?”
“Before the Judiciary sets Haiman’s trial date, there is much to be done. As you well know, the granting and revocation of noble titles are the exclusive prerogative of the Emperor.”
In the early days of the empire’s founding, especially when the Emperor’s authority was at its peak and the nation’s foundations were still unstable, the bestowal and revocation of titles occurred with remarkable frequency. It served as proof of the Emperor’s favor.
“As generations passed, the nation stabilized, and lands, titles, and noble privileges became hereditary and transferable. Unless entangled in serious crimes, Your Majesty can no longer strip them of these benefits without justification.”
Swish.
Ian slid several documents across the table toward Jin. A decree regarding temporary title revocation. At the bottom were the seals of both the Prime Minister and Ian himself.
“With the trial approaching, the consensus is that since the charges against Haiman and his allied nobles are clear, we must impose legal sanctions preemptively. If Your Highness permits, the Prime Minister will handle the execution. We can pressure the nobles through multiple avenues—asset freezing, removal of detention limits, forced reduction of private armies, and more.”
It wasn’t limited to Haiman alone. It would allow us to suppress all the factions bound to him in one coordinated strike.
Particularly, forced reduction of private armies would be effective in preventing potential armed conflicts that might otherwise occur.
“Will it be possible?”
A question of whether proxies could make a decision the Emperor himself would hesitate to make. Ian dipped his pen in ink without concern.
“Yes. I believe it will be possible. Though Your Highness’s approval is necessary as the sole heir to the imperial succession.”
Who would dare oppose the revocation of noble titles? This was not a power struggle between the imperial household and the nobility. It was unilateral purging by the imperial court, part of consolidating power—anyone foolish enough to interfere would not live to see another day.
“The Prime Minister and the administrative branch await only Your Highness’s decision.”
“The administrative branch as well?”
“The confiscation of noble assets will directly benefit the imperial treasury. The Imperial Defense Ministry awaits the nobles’ private armies and weapons, while the Cultural Ministry desires their art collections.”
Everyone in the palace was eyeing this opportunity, barely concealing their desires. What better example could there be than breaking a stiff neck once you’ve grasped it?
Jin reached for the pen placed before Ian, about to sign without hesitation when Ian’s hand gently intercepted him.
“Your Highness.”
“Hmm?”
“A signature is made in the name of one’s identity. Regardless of how trustworthy the person presenting it may be, you must not do so carelessly. Examine each character, its meaning and connotation thoroughly before confirming.”
Ah, Jin nodded, scratching his cheek with the pen tip.
“Read slowly, and if there is anything you do not understand, ask.”
“Yes. I understand.”
The boy sat beside the sprawled Heil and handed over the documents. The young Emperor would not realize it—this was his first official duty as Prince, the part that would first appear when history mentioned “Jin Berosion.”
Yet it was a decree regarding temporary title revocation. At merely ten years old, he would certainly be recorded as the one who suppressed the central nobility.
“Hmm. Count Ian?”
Jin raised his hand sheepishly, apparently stuck from the first page onward.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Please explain this section.”
Just as Ian was about to rise, pulling down his blanket, the door suddenly burst open and a mage rushed in.
Bang!
Crash!
Jin froze, and Heil, who had been sprawled out, reflexively moved the boy behind him into a defensive stance. But soon realizing the intruder was a former colleague mage, he released a relieved breath.
“Patrick. What is this commotion?”
“I-Ian. There seems to be some misunderstanding.”
One of the traitors listed in Gail’s note. Guards and mages who followed immediately subdued and dragged him out, but he resisted, clinging to the door handle.
“Ian! Ian!”
“Damn it, Patrick! You’re only making things worse for yourself!”
“I’m not a traitor. I’m really not!”
“The Prince is present! Are you committing further crimes?”
“I apologize, Ian. I was being taken to the interrogation room when—”
“Please, listen to me! I beg you, I beg you!”
What on earth was happening? Jin was startled, covering his mouth with the documents while his eyes darted about. What was Ian thinking? His expression remained unchanged.
“…Very well. That’s enough.”
“Ian! Truly, I am not—”
“Patrick. If you are not a traitor, then cooperating sincerely with the investigation will suffice. You belong to the Magic Ministry, so you know better than anyone the competence of your colleagues. And should you have been a traitor, I would understand you. Pursuing profit is human nature, after all.”
Ian recalled Chroni and the traitors. They must have felt the same. Under their own judgment, they had chosen what they believed was the better path.
But—
“So you too must understand me, and pay the price.”
This too was Ian’s judgment.
“Ian, please, please….”
“Take responsibility for your choice. Are all those who keep their faith so foolish they cannot pursue profit? If you sought to gain, you must also be prepared to lose. Patrick.”
Patrick prostrated himself and begged desperately, but Ian spoke with unwavering resolve. The mage colleagues watching from behind could only draw uncomfortable breaths.
“If you truly cannot remain in the Magic Ministry, you are free to leave the palace. But you know well what that means.”
He was a talented individual who understood the inner workings of the imperial palace and possessed magical ability. A man cast out for matters of faith would likely grow into a threatening force. Embedding a tracking device and a mana-sealing stone became unavoidable.
“Take him away now.”
“Ah, yes. My apologies. Patrick, get up.”
“Ugh, uuugh….”
Creak.
Patrick was dragged away by his colleagues, and Heil merely tilted his head back over the sofa and clicked his tongue. Jin set down the documents and pressed his lips together softly.
“Your Majesty. I apologize.”
“No, it is not so.”
“…A surcharge, according to the national tax collection law, is an amount imposed when obligations are violated. For nobility, ten percent is standard, but up to forty percent can be assessed for commoners.”
Ian explained the part Jin had questioned. The boy nodded repeatedly, but his lack of concentration was evident. Ian knelt and examined his face carefully.
“Were you very surprised?”
“I was surprised, but that’s not quite it.”
“Then what is it?”
Jin smiled awkwardly.
“Someday, I too will have to do what Count Ian did.”
The imperial palace—a place beautiful and cruel by name alone. Where benevolence withers before power, and obedience masquerading as order festers overnight.
“Realizing that… I was somewhat troubled.”
Jin too would one day have to cast out someone who had once been his own, for the sake of survival. Whether by choice or circumstance. Ian met the boy’s gaze and fell silent for a moment.
“That is correct. That day will surely come. When it does, do not forget, do not hesitate—sever the tie.”
“I understand.”
“But until then, while I am here, I shall do so in your stead.”
Ian smiled gently. The boy was one who had lived through a shared history. Because Jin existed, Ian existed; he would do his utmost to help.
Dimples formed deeply in Jin’s cheeks once more. The boy grasped his pen again and read through the documents meticulously.
Click.
And with his own judgment and will, he signed. When Jin handed the documents to Ian, Ian bowed his head respectfully and received them.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Serve well.”
“Yes. There would be no objection. Is anyone outside?”
Knock, knock.
“Yes, Count Ian.”
Ian secured the leather cord wrapped around the document tightly. The rolled parchment was sealed inside a wooden cylinder.
“Deliver it to the Administrative Ministry.”
“Yes, understood. Oh, and they say Romandro has awakened. Captain Berik keeps crawling out into the hallway and rolling around too.”
“It seems they’re finally worth keeping alive.”
The Mage merely shrugged his shoulders in exasperation. What kind of beasts were they, constantly trying to escape their rooms? When Ian gestured for her to go, she bowed and turned to leave.
“What should I do now?”
“Well. The Administrative Ministry and the Prime Minister will handle the execution, so I’ll wait to hear news and act accordingly. Before that.”
“Before that?”
Just entrust this to me. Jin’s eyes sparkled.
“The Lusweena delegation has arrived, and Your Highness is the next heir. It would be best if you saw them directly.”
Since he was stubbornly staying in his quarters claiming stomach troubles, I had no choice but to check on his condition personally.
“And Your Highness. Have you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“Lady Deilaina’s condition is not good at all.”
“She’s so gravely ill that even her servants can barely enter.”
“…It would be best to see her soon.”
Jin hesitated at Ian’s words. Wasn’t he speaking in roundabout terms about a critical moment approaching? The boy’s breathing trembled faintly, but Ian pretended not to notice.
“All right. I understand.”
Ian extended his hand to leave, and Jin grasped it firmly.
Steady and strong, so as not to waver in the bloodstorm of the imperial palace.
* * *
Tap, tap, tap!
“This is the imperial seal and signature of Jin Berosion.”
“Oh, it’s here! The order has been approved!”
“Contact the Imperial Defense Ministry and the Imperial Guards.”
“From now on, go to the named houses and order the stripping of their titles. Arm yourselves! Tell them to open the gates wide!”
“It would be best to send Captain Jairot to Haiman’s side.”
“How many locations are involved in total?”
“Including Haiman, there are seven noble houses in the center.”
Shortly after, the Administrative Ministry, having received Jin’s signature, rushed about executing the orders. As this was shared and distributed to each department, the imperial palace moved with unified purpose for the first time in a long while.
How long had it been since they turned their blades outward rather than against each other? The palace soldiers marched out through the main gates in perfect formation and discipline.
Their destination: the residences of the central nobility, the heart of Haiman’s power.

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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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