Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 361

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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 361
Fire. Devoured
The Clippoford Soldiers realized the truth. Amid the fluttering of garments, the clattering of armor with each footfall, and the chaos of voices they couldn’t identify, they had failed to grasp reality.
They faced enemies across the line, yet they had only viewed the situation—where enemy blades sought their necks and they themselves had to kill—as if it were a painting hanging in a frame. Even now, amid the taut tension and deafening noise, the Burgos forces stationed in the distance seemed like phantoms in a mirage.
Though relations were strained, the two nations, being neighbors, had subtly intertwined. Like water and oil that never truly mixed, they watched each other from their respective positions.
“Aaaahhhhh!”
“Charge!”
“Those who retreat shall face military law!”
“Lead the way! Sever the enemy’s head!”
Who was shouting? Who yearned for the enemy’s death? And who would die by my hand, and by whose hand would I fall? Despite their fierce charge, the soldiers’ minds were blank as white paper.
Perhaps even the moth that hurls itself into roaring flames feels the same way?
Knowing death approaches yet failing to truly comprehend it, clinging to baseless confidence that I might somehow survive, unaware that even I, once the center of my own world, am but a grain of sand before history’s vast tide.
Tap-tap-tap!
“It’s the Clippoford forces! All units, reform your formations!”
“General! The troops stationed at the barrier are charging forward! With chaos erupting front and rear, it would be wise to resolve one side swiftly.”
The evening grew dim.
The report of trouble erupting at the rear came just as the Burgos General removed his armor. A small elite force had suddenly attacked, retreated into the forest, then repeatedly emerged from different positions.
The General immediately recognized them as the Clippoford forces they had clashed with at Baki village. This meant the Burgos contingent left behind in Baki had an unknown fate.
“A small elite force?”
“Yes. Their numbers are few.”
A small elite force. What could that signify?
If soldiers survived the battle, it would be natural for them to return and give thanks for their survival. Yet these soldiers had crossed the valley of death and thrown themselves back into the fray.
This meant someone capable of issuing appropriate orders to subordinates was among them, and that person was likely a high-ranking Clippoford official. Perhaps a general or higher. Possibly even royalty.
‘Prince Noah is a possibility. What of his appearance?’
‘It remains unconfirmed.’
“General!”
At that moment, Timothy pushed through the tent flap and entered. He sought counsel on how to handle this sudden crisis.
“The force that struck our rear appears to be high-ranking Clippoford officials. Given that those guarding the barrier are moving, they seem intent on drawing our attention.”
“Then what should we do? You must issue orders quickly. The soldiers are growing anxious.”
The General looked Timothy up and down, then tilted his head. King Damon had said the same thing—that placing Timothy at the vanguard would minimize casualties. The exact meaning eluded him, but for now, the King’s counsel seemed wise to follow.
“We will capture those who struck our rear. I will redirect forces there, so Lord Timothy, please hold back those coming from the barrier. We will retreat slowly, widening the distance. Simply buy us time as you see fit.”
“Me? Am I to command the soldiers?”
“Less command than simply stand with them to bolster their morale.”
As the General’s subordinates continued pouring into the tent, Timothy was given no chance to protest.
In truth, a general’s orders on the battlefield were law. Since the General had spoken thus, Timothy had little grounds to refuse. Besides, he was a man of Burgos, and he stood with them for Burgos’s glory.
Timothy nodded and accepted.
“Understood.”
“I will assign subordinates to you, so do not worry.”
“No. If it is for my safety, please spare them. I have already entrusted my life to King Damon.”
And without hesitation, he turned and left the tent.
I could still identify the enemy, but soon the sun would set. It would become impossible to distinguish the Burgos soldiers in their dark uniforms. It was the moment I was about to issue an order.
Boom! Crash!
“Something just fell from the sky!”
“There’s a person in the sky, a person!”
“It’s a Mage!”
An unidentified figure approached far closer than the charging Clippoford Soldiers. I shouted.
“Draw your weapons!”
Clang!
The soldiers drew swords and arrows. Each one was refined with an amber hue at its tip.
Idgal. King Damon, foreseeing the Mages’ involvement, had prepared thoroughly and distributed Idgal weapons primarily to skilled Knights. Of course, the ordinary Soldiers also carried Idgal-infused daggers hidden in their garments.
Far more Idgal than Bariel and Clippoford had anticipated. If Bariel’s side learned the quantity Burgos possessed, the tide of battle might turn. There was no need to sacrifice Mages for a third nation like Clippoford.
“I’ll deploy two Beasts to the front!”
“Hurry!”
Burgos’s camp was in chaos. Soldiers fired arrows relentlessly at the two flying Mages, who climbed higher and easily evaded the attacks. To land a proper hit, Tiefe’s tongue was essential.
“Naaahhh!”
Then, a familiar voice echoed from somewhere.
I placed my hand on my sword hilt and looked around. That laughter—there was something unsettling about it, something not quite right. And at that same moment—
Thud.
Something fell into the center of the camp. I was curious who owned that laughter, but identifying what the Mages had dropped was the priority in the growing darkness.
But then.
Crash! Bang!
Boom!
“I made myself perfectly clear!”
Whoosh!
“I came here to hunt Beasts, and I don’t care about human heads! So if you back off, I’ll let you live! Try to stop me and that’s fine too! Welcome, welcome!”
“Ahhhhh!”
“Ugh, argh!”
I recognized it immediately. The Mages had dropped Berik from the sky.
That madman from the underground lair who faced dozens of Assailants while carrying an iron cage on his back. I remembered him being called a Mage Knight, so this wasn’t something ordinary Soldiers could handle. I urged them immediately.
“Soldiers, fall back! Don’t engage! He’s a Mage Knight!”
“Lord Timothee, what are you doing?”
But someone blocked my order. It was the General, who had been trying to move deeper toward the rear. I’d told him to hold back the forces pressing from the front, and now I was saying don’t engage?
I shouted urgently.
“We cannot face him! He’s a Mage Knight!”
“We came knowing there would be Mages. What’s with the sudden fuss? Never mind—do as I’ve instructed! Just because you walk ahead doesn’t put you in the same position as me!”
Even as he spoke, the agonized screams of Burgos Soldiers echoed from all directions. I gritted my teeth and made up my mind, rushing toward where the commotion erupted. The General, seeing this, added another order.
“Not just two Beasts—deploy all but the minimum two to the front! That Astana Native Sorcerer alone will handle the rear, everyone else forward!”
“Yes, understood.”
“Once the sun sets, we won’t know what happens. Let’s hurry.”
Burgos had the advantage of concealment in their dark uniforms, but the terrain would be difficult to navigate in darkness—a definite disadvantage. If Clippoford surrounded us and launched a surprise attack, we’d be helpless.
Whether ahead or behind, the priority was to clear a path forward first.
* * *
“D-die! Dieeeee!”
“Oh my, welcome, guest! You’ve taken a blade! It hurts just a bit!”
“Ahhhhh!”
“Don’t face them one-on-one! Surround them! All at once! All at once!”
Tap tap tap!
Berik charged into the heart of the enemy lines. Blood dripped steadily from beneath his crimson hair, streaming down his neck and soaking his collar. At first glance, he looked as though death would be no surprise—if only that blood were his own.
“One, two—!”
“Hyaaah!”
The Soldiers surrounded Berik and thrust their spears at him simultaneously.
But in that instant, Berik leaped lightly into the air. He landed gracefully upon the aligned spear tips and locked eyes with a nearby Soldier.
“Well-trained. Good coordination. Yes. You pass!”
“Ahhhhh! It’s a demon! A demon!”
“Who are you calling a demon? You crazy bastards?”
Clang! Clang!
As Berik swung his blade, the Soldier barely parried before tumbling backward. In that moment, Berik noticed one edge of the blade gleaming amber.
‘Idgal.’
Though Berik was no Mage, he understood that the principle of wielding magical power to achieve superhuman strength was fundamentally the same. In other words, he needed to be wary of Idgal.
“Okay okay, no problem!”
Whoosh!
Berik stepped on the fallen Soldier’s chest and severed his neck in one motion.
At his brutal and merciless slaughter, all the watching Soldiers hesitated and retreated. Why did he display such madness? Was he truly human? They all trembled, swallowing hard.
“Berik.”
Timothy appeared, parting through the Soldiers. It was a face he hadn’t seen in some time, though the location was hardly ideal. Berik waved cheerfully in greeting.
“Timothy! Ian was just looking for you!”
“Drop your weapon and surrender. Otherwise, you die.”
“You know, when I came to Clippoford a few days ago, I looked for you then too. Man, it was hard to find you!”
“I’m saying this once more. Drop your weapon and stand down. This battle is between Burgos and Clippoford.”
“Ian will be here soon, so he’d be happy if I captured you, right?”
The conversation went nowhere. Timothy had no choice but to draw his blade and face off against Berik. Berik wiped the blood caked on his face and grinned wickedly.
“I won’t kill you. You seem necessary to Ian.”
“I will kill you.”
“That’s a good joke!”
Crash! Thud!
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The massive Timothy brought his blade down with all his strength, but Berik parried it effortlessly. Whether his promise not to kill was sincere, he didn’t counterattack rashly. Instead, he searched for an opening to knock him unconscious in one strike.
As the Soldiers watched the duel hesitantly, the officers shouted.
“Stop standing there like idiots! Look ahead! Clippoford forces are approaching! Advance!”
“Y-yes, advance!”
“Aaaahhhhh!”
Right. There was no need to involve myself in a battle between non-humans. The soldiers quickly reformed their ranks and advanced toward the Clippoford barrier. For a single point between enemies, and thus for the cause of those above. I would humbly accept this moment of stepping back from the lead role to a supporting one in life.
Berik glanced at the soldiers rushing past him and pondered. What should I do? The Mages told me not to kill people if possible, but at this rate…
“As expected of a Mage Knight.”
Clang!
“Ah, you don’t know, Timothy? I’m Bariel’s First Class. Consider it an honor.”
“If I defeat you, does that mean I defeat Bariel?”
“Ahahaha! You’re quite the talker too! I’m pretty good at it myself!”
“Lord Timothy!”
They continued exchanging blows, but Timothy instinctively understood. I could never win. Berik, as if proving he wouldn’t kill me, wasn’t attacking recklessly—he was merely blocking my blade. And doing so with remarkable ease.
What should I do? In that very moment Timothy was contemplating.
“Lord Timothy!”
Boom. Thud.
A voice calling to Timothy came from behind. The stench of rotting corpses wafted over. Berik’s expression twisted as he gagged. The Composite Beast was drawing near.
“Damn, that smell is really something!”
Berik unconsciously lowered his sword and pinched his nose shut.
Timothy tried not to miss this opening. But there was something faster than that.
Whoooosh!
Swish!
“Oof!”
In an instant, Tiefe’s tongue wrapped around Berik’s waist from dozens of meters away. The speed was so remarkable that the phrase “in the blink of an eye” was perfectly apt. By the time Berik perceived it, he was already seized and being dragged away.
Gulp.
The lizard swallowed Berik whole in one motion, then closed its mouth. Its cheeks twitched a few times, but that was all.
Its throat convulsed, and the lizard’s rotting eyes darted about as it clicked its teeth. An expression of satisfaction from fullness. A primal contentment that lingered still, despite being a composite of dead corpses.

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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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