Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 32

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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 32. Hidden Truths
“Sending a son who hasn’t even been registered! This is deception!”
“Exactly! How could you stab us in the back like this!”
I sat back leisurely and watched the elders explode in fury. It was clear they couldn’t believe I’d been treated this way at an official peace negotiation.
“Let me emphasize once more—I am indeed my father’s son. That part is unambiguous.”
“Then what of your mother?”
“I couldn’t say.”
At Kakantir’s question, I offered a bitter smile. It was a silent answer telling him to interpret it himself. The situation was already tense enough. There was no need to mention my origins in the red-light district. It wasn’t important anyway.
“I’d like nothing more than to snap your neck right now.”
“But you are the leader of the Cheonryeo Tribe. Surely you’ll make a wise decision.”
Kakantir let out an exasperated laugh and growled. Since he’d declared he would treat me as a guest of the Empire, he couldn’t simply kill me now. It was a matter of principle.
‘But can I strike at Bratz? No. Now that I know the Central army is coming down, that would be reckless too.’
“You there.”
Kakantir, apparently at a loss, rolled a betel leaf and chewed it. The honorific he’d used before had long since vanished from his lips. Whether intentional or not, I couldn’t say. Either way, the fact that my head still remained on my shoulders was proof I was being shown respect.
“Keep talking. Is there anything else?”
“If there’s something you wish to know, there would be.”
The murmuring of the elders behind me grew louder. I smiled broadly and continued.
“Ah yes. There would be. More specifically, how certain matters will unfold and proceed.”
“I hope it’s interesting. Interesting enough to organize the chaos in my head all at once.”
Kakantir’s gaze fixed intently on my neck. He seemed to be exerting all his strength to suppress an impulse.
“Let me propose a scenario. If I become lord of Bratz with the Cheonryeo Tribe’s help, I will make Bratz the finest domain in Bariel.”
“Why?”
“Because that alone can support someone like me, born from the frontier.”
“And then?”
“Once I’ve accumulated sufficient power, I’ll move toward the center—specifically, toward the Imperial Palace.”
Kakantir’s brown eyes gleamed. What was this small thing saying now? That he’d go to the center? This meant willingly walking into the jaws of the Empire.
Setting aside what he’d do once there, did he not know how a domain crumbles when its lord abandons it? It either rots from internal corruption or shatters from external invasion—that’s the natural order.
“This is why I, unregistered as I am, crossed the desert without fleeing. Kakantir. We need to become different now.”
True alliance and peace.
Not merely exchanging trade goods and binding ourselves through numbers and documents. A lord who could turn his back to you. That also meant seeing the Cheonryeo Tribe not as savage barbarians of the frontier, but as allies.
“I don’t know if it’s interesting. But my petty doubts have certainly vanished.”
“I’m relieved to hear it.”
As Kakantir rolled another betel leaf to chew, Nersaren raised his hand.
“Ian. There’s one thing I must clarify before we proceed.”
“Please, speak.”
“When the Central army arrives, will Count Derga have time? Time to send word, that is.”
Wow. I nearly wanted to applaud. Kakantir, you have quite an exceptional man beside you. The tribal leader’s strategist showed considerable depth of thought. He’d touched upon something no one else had considered.
“Likely so. An investigation will need to proceed. At most, that period would be roughly two weeks. In truth, the center is coming down with certainty.”
“Then that’s all the more problematic.”
“Nersaren. What is?”
Kakantir and the other elders could not fathom what it meant.
“A cornered rat bites the cat. If there is no way to escape, what remains for Count Derga is execution—and the annihilation of his entire clan. There is room to raise an army and resist. And….”
“He will seek aid from the Cheonryeo Tribe as well.”
They were, after all, allies who had just concluded a peace accord mere days ago. Kakantir nodded as if he had only now grasped it.
“We cannot refuse.”
“Precisely. Especially not immediately after the accord.”
Before any matter of faith, it was politically indefensible. To break the peace without justification would be to declare the Cheonryeo Tribe themselves as savages.
This could later provide the Empire with a pretext to act. Kakan found such circumstances distasteful. No matter how he looked at it, they were dancing in the Empire’s palm.
“The accord is the problem. Because of it, our position has become precarious. We must resolve this first. Is there no way to nullify it?”
Nersaren shook his head.
“It is not simple.”
“Why not? They deceived us. They sent a child who had not even been registered.”
“Kakan, though he was not registered, Ian is nonetheless Count Derga’s son.”
“That is true. A valid argument.”
Ian concurred with Nersaren’s words.
“Moreover, my father revealed my status as a bastard before the accord. And since they would not know that I have colluded with the Central authority to delay my registration, any objection from our side would be futile.”
“It sounds as though you are urging them to kill you. Do continue your prattling.”
“I have a method.”
Ian’s declaration silenced the hall. Kakantir too closed his mouth and waited for the next words.
“All history is built upon justification. And all justification is created by people. I will create it for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Justification to break the accord. And also justification to refuse when Count Derga requests aid.”
And Ian picked up a guroot leaf placed at the corner of the table. His eyes gleamed with the certainty that this was the answer.
“My father secretly instructed me. When I return to Bratz for my birthday next year, I am to smuggle guroot leaves back with me.”
“Unbelievable. Ha!”
At Ian’s swift response, Kakantir let out a genuine laugh. So he had made his resolve before even crossing the desert—it seems it was no lie after all.
“It is not just anyone, but the lord himself who ordered the smuggling. And of all things, guroot leaves—an absolutely forbidden item—through the very symbol of peace, the accord itself. Is this not sufficient?”
“Indeed. Even grinding him to dust would not satisfy. More than sufficient. And the evidence?”
“Unfortunately, there is nothing visible at this moment. But this too can be verified through Lady Winchen.”
With this, they could even pile on the matter of registration and lodge a powerful protest. A protest? No, rather they could simply unilaterally nullify it, and the other side would have nothing to say.
“Of course, I had no intention of doing so.”
“What you have spoken today is something to be sworn before the heavens themselves, beyond even Lady Winchen.”
“If you wish it, I shall do so.”
“This is maddening. What in the world is Bratz….”
Blood cannot be deceived, he had thought—that Count Derga had only fools like Chel. Ian’s handwritten letter had only reinforced that conviction.
Yet look at the atmosphere now. Is this foreign with golden hair and green eyes not leading the Cheonryeo’s chieftains?
“…Is that all you desire? A statement of the Cheonryeo Tribe’s support for you?”
“It is sufficient. I shall handle the rest.”
Weighed from any angle, it was a transaction without particular fault—one could even say slightly advantageous. In the worst case, Ian would lose his life, but the Cheonryeo Tribe need only return to the desert. If the Central authority invaded, they would fight as they always had, with the desert at their back.
He tapped the table and added one final word.
“We have no intention of shedding blood for you.”
“Nor do I wish for that.”
“Are you not afraid of death?”
“Not in the slightest.”
Ian’s bold demeanor. Kakantir asked with pure curiosity. Such a young one, yet his spirit overwhelmed the warriors of the Cheonryeo Tribe.
“I have already died once and awakened.”
“A magnificent resolve.”
It was not a metaphor, but Kakantir did not perceive it. How could he, after all? He could not know that Ian was living his second life, blessed by divine grace.
Moreover, there remained yet another card hidden away.
That he was a mana user.
“Including the pursuit of Silask, write down specifically on paper what the Cheonryeo Tribe desires.”
“There is ample time. There will be pleasure in the coordination.”
Ian smiled brightly and expressed his gratitude. Then he turned to the physician, who still stood dazed, observing the situation.
“The medicine—won’t you administer it?”
“Pardon? Ah! Yes, yes. I’m going! I must go!”
The physician startled and rose with the flowerpot in hand. He intended to feed only one root first to observe the effects. How to use the remainder could be decided later.
Whether to cultivate it for future generations, or present it to Winchen after observing her improvement.
“Then I shall take my leave as well.”
Ian too walked toward the tent entrance. Kakantir stopped him and asked, half without expectation. His rough manner of speech had already softened considerably.
“Lord Ian. Your intention to go to the Capital—does it relate to the Emperor’s condition?”
From the Kakan’s perspective, this was a truly curious child. His father is a frontier nobleman, yet his concerns are tied to the Imperial Palace? Clearly, the way he avoided speaking of his mother suggested the clue lay there. Ian perceived that he did not expect an answer, and merely smiled.
Upon stepping outside, the clanspeople had all gathered, their ears perked.
“He’s come out!”
“We heard loud voices inside, but he didn’t die.”
“Ohhh. It’s really true.”
As Ian and Berik took a step forward, the crowd parted like a crimson sea. Among them appeared a familiar face. It was Su. Ian approached her and made his request.
“Su.”
“Huh? Um, yes.”
“If you have time to spare, would you help us?”
“Help with what…?”
Her eyes wavered in confusion. But soon they shone like stars at Ian’s words.
“Berik’s training.”
* * *
“Idiot! Slowpoke!”
“Shut your mouth!”
“Desert ants would move faster than you!”
“Wow, that! If you get caught, I swear your nose will bleed!”
Whoooosh—!
Ian sat in the shade eating fruit, watching the sand swirl. The traces created by Berik’s kicks and Su’s movements. They had been running under the blazing sun for two hours already, yet neither showed signs of fatigue.
“Berik! Are you alright?”
“What?”
“…Never mind.”
“Don’t talk to me! Damn it!”
Whoosh!
He certainly grasped and adapted quickly. After just a few days, he’d already acclimated to the heat. Moreover, given the environment itself, the sand made the training intensity all the more grueling.
“Berik, you’re absolutely incredible.”
“My feet keep sinking!”
“Oh? Really? Mine don’t sink. How much fat must be packed on your legs for only you to sink?”
“This is muscle! Damn it!”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”
Swish! Swish!
While the two continued their banter, I savored nothing but sweet and refreshing fruit. I had planned to gradually win over the Cheonryeo Tribe, but thanks to Silask, the situation resolved itself with remarkable ease and speed.
Until I returned to Bratz, I need only enjoy the Great Desert. Ah, how long had it been since I could truly rest like this? I wondered if this might be the genuine gift the heavens had bestowed.
“Ian.”
Just then, one of the tribe members approached me, carrying a tray with fresh wine and my flowerpot.
“Winchen has finally awakened.”
“Oh, is that so?”
Winchen had lost consciousness the moment she greeted me. I gradually dripped the Silask expert’s water into her mouth, and though the improvement was slow, it was undeniably present. Her heartbeat stabilized, the convulsions ceased, and color returned to her complexion.
“That’s fortunate.”
“…Thank you.”
The Unknown Clan Member offered their gratitude carefully. The atmosphere of the village was transparent to me. It surpassed any festival. I simply responded by sipping from my cup.
“We will be holding a formal banquet to welcome you soon.”
“Is that so? This hardly differs from a banquet already.”
“…In any case, we are truly grateful. Everyone owes you their thanks.”
“You’re too kind.”
“Oh, and we found this while moving the soil itself.”
He set down the flowerpot. Inside the empty pot lay none other than a necklace—a silver chain adorned with an amber-colored stone.
“This is yours, isn’t it? Did you hide it away?”

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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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