Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 310

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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 310
Fire. Just Ten More Steps
“Long live the Crown Prince!”
“Congratulations, Your Highness. Please look this way.”
“Glory to Bariel! Glory to the Crown Prince!”
A golden carriage moved slowly down the central avenue. Amid the swirling flower petals, Jin smiled radiantly, as though the weight of the golden crown meant nothing at all.
Like a noble surveying the world below, he never once bowed his head. Jin continuously waved his right hand, and occasionally raised the Crown Prince’s scepter to draw responses from the citizens of the empire.
“Wahhh! Your Highness! Your Highness!”
“We look forward to your reign, Crown Prince!”
All those days of laughter and celebration had led to this very moment, hadn’t they? The crowd showered Jin with flowers and offered endless congratulations, which were caught by the magical barrier masquerading as wind and swept back into the sky.
Thus, all around was a realm of wonder—a world of flowers.
Boooo- Boo-
The sound of a buffalo horn echoed from the end of the procession.
It was the signal that they were turning around at the halfway point to return to the imperial palace.
The citizens, though reluctant, followed the carriage to the very end, desperate to hold Jin’s image in their eyes. Among the strange harmonies of the military band and street musicians, more and more dancers spun in circles.
“Count Ian.”
“Prepare.”
At Ian’s command, the mages rose into the air in unison. Centered on Jin, an enormous darkness materialized and spread instantaneously along the path the carriage had traveled and the path it would take.
A black so absolute it seemed to erase everything.
The watching crowd murmured and stepped back.
“Wow, look down there!”
“The entire central avenue has turned black!”
“Daddy, hold me! I’m scared!”
“It’s alright. The mages must be about to show us something wonderful.”
Zing! Zing!
Whoosh!
The mages created darkness, and Ian created stars. In an instant, several kilometers of road transformed into the Milky Way.
Confronted with a sight they had never witnessed before, the crowd’s words caught in their throats. A cosmic flow unfolding in broad daylight, a golden carriage riding upon it, and their Crown Prince.
Everything was wondrous, beautiful, and perfect.
“Wow….”
“My goodness, it’s so magnificent.”
The festive atmosphere that had been boiling over settled into quiet reverence.
While the birth of a new leader was cause for celebration, what must form its foundation was, without question, awe. The military band played ever louder, more intense, and more majestic music.
Screeeech.
This continued until the procession reached the imperial palace gates. Before entering, Jin rose from his seat and waved with both hands, and the citizens answered with hymns of praise.
Bar-iel!
The golden carriage disappeared into the palace.
The mounted guards who had followed behind likewise vanished from sight.
Yet the song sung by the masses grew ever fiercer, burning like wildfire. As the imperial palace gates closed completely, the Milky Way that had stretched across the capital of Bariel faded like a mirage.
“Your Highness. Are you well?”
“I’m fine.”
The carriage stopped before the main palace. The Prime Minister greeted Jin with concern etched across his face.
To absorb the heat of thousands—wasn’t that a burden even for adults? And yet the one facing it was merely a child, standing alone against thousands of imperial citizens.
The Prime Minister repeatedly checked Jin’s condition, but the boy merely waved his hand and demanded a report.
“What of the dignitaries and nobles from the three nations?”
“They have moved to the banquet hall and are socializing.”
Jin removed his cloak and entered the main palace’s inner chambers with the Prime Minister. It had been far too long since he last saw his father, the Emperor. The servants remained behind while the officials busied themselves organizing the carriages and soldiers.
“…Ugh.”
“Phillip, are you unwell?”
“Sorry. I expended too much mana.”
“That’s why I told you to fall back. Count Ian, let’s get Phillip first—”
The magical division’s cleanup was particularly chaotic. Covering several kilometers with magic—was that ever easy? They had exhausted everything to the point where they couldn’t even conjure a simple mana sphere for days.
“Count Ian!”
“Enough. Quiet.”
Ian lowered his head and covered his nose with his sleeve. Though his dark clothes concealed most of it, blood stains stood stark against his pale skin.
“Good heavens. Where did you put your handkerchief? Romandro! Look at Count Ian. Oh dear, what do we do?”
“Huh? What’s—wait! Ian!”
“Romandro, please have everyone quiet down and handle the cleanup. The mages and I will head to the magic division first.”
“Don’t worry about it and hurry inside. Bring the magic division’s carriage! Good grief, is it still bleeding?”
“What!? Ian’s bleeding!?”
“Be quiet, Berik, you fool!”
“I heard Romandro call out! Who are you telling to be quiet? Ian, look here. Is it a nosebleed?”
Ian laughed at the pointless question. At that, not only did the flustered mages smile with relief, but Romandro and Berik as well.
“Your Highness?”
In the corridor leading to the bedchamber.
Jin paused at the commotion drifting in from outside and glanced back, but that was all. At the Prime Minister’s urging, he turned his head and continued forward.
*Whoosh.*
“…Has His Majesty’s health improved at all?”
Jin felt an unexpected chill at his fingertips. This should have been the most comfortable and serene place in the imperial palace, yet it felt desolate and cold.
The medical staff had recommended allowing no outsiders to maintain absolute rest, and I had followed their guidance faithfully. Had I known it would be like this, I would have inspected it long ago and pointed out what was lacking.
“…I apologize.”
“Yes. He has grown quite frail with age.”
*Creak.*
The Prime Minister opened the bedchamber door himself. More precisely, he unlocked the locked mechanism.
At that moment, Jin realized something was wrong and stepped back. His expression turned sharp and vigilant.
“Prime Minister?”
My heart began to pound. Was I facing danger immediately after becoming Crown Prince? And I was alone here. Xiaoxi wasn’t present, nor was Count Ian….
“Oh, you startled easily, my apologies. But there is nothing to fear. This is merely for security, and I swear on my honor that this was all His Majesty’s will.”
‘Was His Majesty’s will,’ he said.
No matter who heard it, the phrasing evoked the resonance of a final testament. As the Prime Minister gestured for me to follow, I proceeded slowly without lowering my guard.
A spacious bedchamber—exactly as Jin remembered the Emperor’s quarters. Through the expansive windows, a single peach tree grew, its branches reaching toward the glass. If memory served, it must have been connected to Prince Gail’s mother.
“…Father?”
Jin approached the resting Emperor. Nothing differed from his last memory of him. Deep-set wrinkles, white hair, and withered hands.
“…?”
Something was wrong. His hands bore countless small wounds. Given his limited mobility, there should have been no reason for such injuries. When Jin turned to the Prime Minister, the truth became clear.
“His Majesty the Emperor is currently in a state of suspended animation. During the rebellion, he suffered a fatal wound from Prince Marib’s blade. To prevent chaos from his passing, that decision was made. Not only his entire body, but the wound to his abdomen remains unhealed.”
“That is… what exactly…?”
“His Majesty desired an official successor for the stability of the imperial house. That position has fallen to you. The weight of the secret I have carried all this time, I now, at last, dare to place upon your shoulders.”
The boy grasped his father’s hand, blinking vacantly. Though the Emperor lingered in a state scarcely different from death’s threshold, the shock was immense precisely because he had never suspected it.
“Who else knows of this besides you?”
“The Former Three Generals of Beols, Deilaina—”
All of them silenced by death.
“And Count Ian.”
“…Count Ian as well?”
“Please do not take offense that you were not informed. It was a grave matter and the Emperor’s final testament.”
The boy offered no reply. He merely remained hidden in the shadowed darkness of the chamber, gazing upon his father—neither dead nor alive.
What thoughts occupied his mind? The Prime Minister attempted to divine the Crown Prince’s inner workings, but hearing the boy’s opening words, he realized the futility of it.
“…Count Ian seems destined to walk a different path than I.”
“What do you mean by that, Your Highness?”
“Exactly as I said. Count Ian and I will walk different roads.”
He understood the words but could not comprehend them. Jin and Ian had always been fundamentally different from birth, so naturally their paths diverged.
Perhaps….
“Has Count Ian overstepped his authority?”
Though he had deliberately overlooked Jairot’s restraint out of concern, it seemed a strange trust in Ian had taken root deep within his heart.
The Prime Minister knelt before Jin with a shocked expression. If that were true, the situation would become grave. Currently, there was no one in the imperial palace capable of standing against Ian, the Minister of Magic, and maintaining balance.
Jin shook his head firmly.
“Absolutely not. I merely share the concern you just expressed. Therefore, even if our paths diverge, it would be wise to prepare so that I may walk alone.”
A statement declaring his intention to adjust Ian’s swollen presence, power, and dependence. The Prime Minister calmed his startled heart and swallowed dryly.
“A righteous decision, Your Highness. Anything that tilts too far to one side will topple. I shall assist with utmost sincerity.”
“I rely upon your counsel.”
“Well, perhaps we should defer detailed discussions until after the distinguished guests from the three nations depart. For now, it would be prudent to relocate your residence.”
There was no precedent of a Crown Prince residing in the Ministry of Magic. With Deilaina’s restoration of the imperial palace nearing completion, it would be best to return to his proper quarters. First, reclaiming physical distance would be the beginning.
Jin nodded briefly.
“Understood. Do so. You may leave first.”
“Yes, Your Highness. I shall remain far down the corridor.”
Though the Emperor was distant—so very distant—he remained his father. Now knowing of his suspended state, the sorrow must be immense. While this day was auspicious for the realm, for the boy it was perhaps the most tragic day of all. The Prime Minister, showing consideration for him to grieve freely, departed the chamber.
Creak.
Left alone, the boy did not turn to look upon the Emperor. He merely sat upon the sofa, cradling his head in his hands.
His shoulders trembled, tears streaming down the bridge of his nose. Though he stifled his sobs with all his strength, he could not contain the cries that escaped. His hands could not catch the tears—what difference would it make?
‘Count Ian knows of Father’s condition.’
It became clear. Had Ian harbored different intentions, that wise man would never have let me live. Before, I had assumed that since the Emperor still drew breath, he would place me—the legitimate heir—forward due to his will or other variables.
But my father, the Emperor, is already half-dead. If he had wanted it, he would have already possessed everything. There was no need to elevate me to Crown Prince and share the frozen secret with me.
‘Then, the reason Count Ian does this—’
A pillar. With adequate distance, even if one crumbles, it possesses the value of safety that can endure.
Jin shed tears profusely, exhaling frustration. I wanted to convey that I didn’t wish for this, but the weight of the golden crown kept me immobilized.
Whoosh.
Jin dabbed the corners of my eyes with the handkerchief Ian had given me, sniffling. When I kept asking for his help, Ian’s expressionless face came to mind.
He told me not to cry, but did Ian himself know what expression he wore at that moment?
“I understand now. Count Ian. I understand.”
Jin murmured, steadying my breath. If you step back to create distance, then I too will help. Since it’s difficult for me to retreat ten steps alone, I will step back five steps instead.
Then it will be easier to return again.
Both ways, either way.
‘If I become stronger, that’s all that matters. If I can stand alone, that’s all the problem was.’
It was a problem both simple and difficult.
Jin clasped my hands together and prayed, just as I had during the coronation ceremony. Please, let ten steps be enough. Let us not drift too far apart. So that even if we stand a little distance away, we can still see each other.
As the wind blew, the withered leaves of the peach tree rustled.

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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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