Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 286

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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 286
Damon Runkvis
Burgos was vast but barren. The relentless aridity that knew no season stole away all verdancy, and in the forsaken lands, creatures whose very existence remained uncertain prowled through the darkness.
Whoooosh.
Before stepping into the royal palace, Timothy turned to follow the wind’s whisper. The steep incline afforded him a sweeping view of the kingdom beyond the palace walls—the common people’s domain laid bare before his eyes.
‘…How withered it has become.’
Was this not the very landscape the King traversed twice daily? Yet even abundance would pale in comparison to what Timothy now beheld—a Burgos so desiccated and depleted.
This was no mere matter of climate. The kingdom’s daylight, which had begun its slow descent since the previous reign, had finally surrendered to darkness.
“I have come to see His Highness Damon.”
“Please wait a moment.”
Timothy waved the report at the servant, requesting that he announce his presence.
While not as consumed as Bariel with preparations for the coronation ceremony, the Kingdom of Burgos was equally preoccupied with readying itself for the King’s imminent departure.
Creak.
“Please, come in.”
As Timothy followed the servant inside, only the sharp echo of footsteps reverberated through the space. The chamber was vast enough to serve as a banquet hall, yet utterly barren. Had it not been for the portraits of the previous king hanging sporadically upon the walls, no one would have mistaken this place for the royal office.
Timothy approached the King’s desk, following the carpet’s path.
“Your Highness. It is Timothy.”
Damon Runkvis, King of Burgos, set down his pen and turned his head.
Black hair cut short to his shoulders, pallid cheeks, and eyes of deep violet gleamed with an ethereal luminescence even in the dimness.
He said nothing, merely tapping his fingertips against the desk—a silent command to bring the report here.
“Is this regarding Bariel’s visit?”
“Yes. As you instructed previously, I have compiled a new delegation roster. The additional nobles will select tribute items and submit them by next week, so you may review them again at that time.”
Rustle.
Damon said nothing, merely flipping through the documents with swift, dismissive gestures.
As the silence stretched, Timothy’s mind bloomed with scattered thoughts. Among them was Minister Ian Hielo.
A young Minister of Magic not yet of age, and a king now two years into his reign. There was something uncannily similar about the two of them.
Perhaps it was because, though Ian was younger in years, he was colder and more meticulous in his work than anyone else?
“I believe I instructed you to exclude Count Garame.”
“Ah, that is…”
“Is there strong opposition?”
“My apologies. The vote is not passing. If we exclude the Count, there will be a problem with the transportation we promised to provide. At present, there is no one capable of supplying a hundred horses…”
As Damon furrowed his brow and pressed his hand to his forehead, Timothy could only swallow dryly. All his subjects knew of the King’s brilliance and capability. Yet when he occasionally issued such perplexing commands, it became truly troublesome.
“This is the last time. If there is further opposition, I shall attend the council myself. Handle it appropriately.”
“Yes. I understand.”
The reason Damon could push through his opinions was singular: not because he was king, but because most of his commands, unexpectedly, yielded remarkable results.
Damon muttered to himself and took up his pen once more.
“Do it as soon as possible. What could they possibly know?”
Timothy offered an awkward smile and bowed deeply. The King seemed to be in a foul mood; it would be wise to withdraw today. Besides, had his family not asked him to come home early? Just as Timothy was about to step backward—
“Timothy.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Any word from the Gypsy?”
Creak.
The King rose from his chair and approached Timothy. Already lean by nature, he appeared even more diminished standing before the broad-shouldered Timothy. Of course, he could not lift his head under the weight of his dignity.
“My apologies, Your Majesty. I continue to make inquiries, but nothing has surfaced yet. Grant me a little more time, and I shall surely present her before you.”
Damon gazed quietly down at Timothy’s crown. His cool violet eyes swept across him with keen precision. Sharp emotion lay beneath the surface, though Timothy could never perceive it.
“Very well. I trust you once more.”
“…I shall do my utmost.”
Once more.
Timothy grasped the weight of that word and bowed repeatedly. Their King, the future of Burgos, and the master he served—every gesture of reverence was offered in their honor.
Yet Damon merely turned away, his gaze fixed solely upon the reports before him.
* * *
Berik and Romandro waited at a distance from the main road. My conversation with the Gypsy seemed to stretch on longer and longer.
Lantern lights flickered intermittently around them. Those in hiding were asking what they should do, but Romandro had only one command to relay.
Click. Click.
‘Not yet.’
Winter had passed, but the night air remained bitterly cold. As Romandro shifted about to ward off the chill, Berik suddenly moved. It was a reflexive motion.
Startled, Romandro’s eyes followed. The Gypsy was trembling violently, convulsing in a way unlike before.
“Ian! Damn it, something’s wrong with the old woman! Be careful!”
“Don’t come closer!”
Secrets or not, this old woman was peculiar. Concerned, Berik reached for his sword, but I stopped him immediately. Without turning around, I simply raised my hand. I was barely visible from the side. I left the Gypsy alone and gestured to Berik and Romandro.
“Fall back further.”
“Seriously! At this rate we’ll end up inside the imperial palace!”
“Come on, Berik. Just do as he says.”
Romandro sensed something amiss and dragged Berik away. Once Berik’s protests faded, I carefully turned to look back. They had retreated far enough that even loud voices wouldn’t carry. I brushed my hair back and pressed my hand to my forehead.
‘The King of Burgos is living a second life?’
Just as I had. I was quite startled, but I contained my emotion to a mere frown.
The night is short. And isn’t the Gypsy like the wind itself?
I needed to extract every secret from her belly with haste.
“My word, my word….”
The Gypsy, having consumed such a tremendous secret, could only murmur in disbelief. A satisfaction far deeper than what she’d felt with the King of Burgos. Weren’t the world’s secrets transcending time and space gifts from the Divine? If heaven had a taste, it would be this.
The Gypsy trembled uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face without her knowing. She would have no regrets even if she died this instant. She barely grasped my arm and whispered.
“A majesty of a hundred years hence. Wondrous, truly wondrous. Even if I poured out everything within me, how could I contain such fullness?”
“Continue with the rest quickly.”
As if there were any choice.
The Gypsy pressed her forehead to the ground and continued to express her awe.
“The King of Burgos said his first life was a failure. He was trampled by his mother and… his father, devoured by his brother, and everything was destroyed. In the end, the King killed his brother and stained his hands with blood. And his brother’s blood flowed down and washed away everything. Thus his second life began.”
To live one’s fate twice over.
How old was the King of Burgos? He had been on the throne for only two years now, so he couldn’t be very old.
Then, in his first life, was there a ‘bastard Ian’? Or was there an ‘Ian Hielo’ even then?
‘An opening.’
The King of Burgos was a gap itself. Depending on the first life he had experienced, my existence was being newly established.
What if I, who had been an Emperor then, had ended up like this?
Through that gap, I would be able to see its end.
“He wished his younger brother had never been born. The mother and father who had crushed me made each other hate, and created countless half-siblings.”
“Why did you spare the half-brother?”
It was hardly a measure that strengthened royal authority. There must surely be a reason for it.
“…because. In case of a possible third life.”
The Gypsy’s voice, which had rung with strength, grew faint. Again, sparse gaps began to appear. I gripped the Gypsy’s arm that held me tightly.
“The King of Burgos gave you his secret. Thus, you heard the previous king’s secret. But why does he continue to pursue you? Do you have any idea?”
The Old Man shook his head with a chuckle. But eight or nine out of ten of those pursuing me had similar purposes.
Either related to secrets, or related to the future.
“This is all the secret I can give.”
….
The Gypsy’s crystal ball began to lose its light. Her gills too slowly closed. Now there was no secret left in her belly.
She whispered as a warning.
“Pray from now on. If the King of Burgos unknowingly lets the secret slip from his lips, and realizes it’s possible, he will know it has leaked.”
“You should pray too. You will surely be killed.”
“Hahaha! Today has been quite satisfying in many ways. How about you?”
Was she asking if the deal had been satisfying?
I had discovered his regression, and through it, even obtained a clue about my own fate. If I weighed gains and losses, it was a deal that leaned toward gain.
As I was about to nod, the Gypsy frowned as if regretful. Her gaze reached far away, toward Berik and Romandro.
“After this night, you will no longer be able to tell the truth to anyone. To no one.”
“…That’s what I wanted.”
In Jin’s Bariel, I did not want my existence to shine. Especially, I did not want the truth to be used beyond my control, like the Arcen incident.
Perhaps it would be safer to bind and bury it like this.
“Then, that’s fortunate.”
I slowly rose from my seat. And I moved the lantern to my right hand. This was a signal that the business was finished, and everyone should prepare to surround the Gypsy.
“Secret-eater. I wish you would follow me.”
“Oh.”
A deal was a deal, and in any case, that Gypsy was someone the King of Burgos was targeting. It was advantageous in many ways to keep her person in check.
The Gypsy wrapped her crystal ball carefully in cloth and waved her hand.
“I am a Gypsy. I take clouds as friends and move following the wind as my path. How could I have a dwelling? Even promising a time and place like today was a great resolve on my part. Otherwise, that street rabble wouldn’t let me go.”
Berik, who had caught Ian’s lantern signal, was glaring this way as if about to rush over. Had he realized the Gypsy was complaining? He was voicing some grievance to Romandro.
Ziiing. Zing.
A presence seeping into the darkness. As I reflexively opened my mana, Mages who had been hiding in various corners of the alley revealed themselves.
Thwack! Boom!
“Ian!”
I shot a mana sphere upward to catch her. In an instant, the surroundings brightened, but the Gypsy’s figure was nowhere to be seen. The Mages and Soldiers were startled and immediately gave chase.
Tap-tap-tap!
“Damn it, where did the old woman go?”
“This way! Keep the protective barrier up!”
“Drive him left and run! This alley is yours!”
“We need him alive! Move!”
“Damn it, where did the Old Man Without Legs go—!”
My colleagues rushed past me in all directions, including Berik. As I turned to follow them, I suddenly stopped, glancing around at the empty surroundings.
And a quiet truth whispered within me.
‘…I was the Emperor.’
I swallowed that truth I dared not speak aloud, and a bitter smile crossed my lips.
I stood there alone.

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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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