Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 371

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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 371
Fire. Departing and Returning
Awakening is the opening of one’s eyes.
Timothy’s eyes opened as he left the General’s tent. A foreign land pressed down upon him with its dark clouds, and countless soldiers’ gazes watched his every move.
The soldier who met his gaze smiled awkwardly. Though he meant nothing by it, Timothy found it unsettling. Those whispering seemed to be talking about him, and if he turned around, they would all pretend not to notice and look away.
What was this feeling? He had simply walked forward without hesitation, yet when he looked back, the path seemed to curve behind him. Something—that something moved Timothy’s feet instinctively forward.
“Lord Timothy?”
“Are you inside?”
“Ah, yes yes! Captain! It’s Lord Timothy!”
It was the Officer’s tent—the one who had stopped him earlier. The Officer rose in surprise to greet Timothy, tilting his head in confusion.
His pupils seemed vacant. As the massive Timothy entered, a long shadow fell across the Officer’s desk. Perhaps because of that, the Officer failed to notice how pale Timothy had become.
“What brings you here, Lord Timothy?”
“Earlier…”
The Officer thought Timothy had come to vent his frustrations after being thoroughly scolded by the General. He swallowed hard, his fingers creeping slowly toward the sword hilt he had set down because it was heavy.
“I wanted to thank you for what you did earlier.”
“Pardon?”
“Had I, in my agitation, harmed the Sorcerer, this scolding would not have been the end of it. With the crucial negotiations with Clifford ahead, I nearly lost an important asset through my own mistake. I wanted to express my gratitude for stopping me.”
“Ah.”
The Officer finally relaxed, letting out a relieved exclamation. Yes, that’s right—being a diplomat, he had a flexible and fair character. It made sense that he would express gratitude. Of course.
The Officer patted Timothy’s shoulder and laughed heartily.
“Haha. Don’t mention it. In war, nerves become frayed and one reacts sensitively to trivial matters. Lord Timothy, being inexperienced in such things, would naturally feel it more acutely. If that Sorcerer was disrespectful, I’ll repay him later.”
“No, there’s no need. Now that I think about it, it was all my fault.”
All my fault. The Officer suddenly felt the shallowness of those words. As if Timothy were speaking not to him standing before him, but to someone far away.
“Would you offer me some tea?”
Timothy made this request as he sat down. The Officer gestured to his subordinate with a hand signal, and the two men soon passed the time with trivial conversation.
“Though our origins differ, when we roll together like this on the battlefield, we become comrades, allies, and family, do we not? Haha!”
“Captain, your words are wise.”
“By the way, your martial prowess is quite exceptional.”
“It’s simply from wandering remote regions…”
Timothy agreed with the Officer’s words while subtly glancing down at the table. It was the map of Clifford that Burgos had obtained.
Since such information could influence strategy during war, each nation strictly prevented foreigners from conducting geographical surveys. It was a product of time—the minimal map provided, supplemented and added to by passing merchants and diplomats.
Timothy’s gaze moved with keen and nimble precision.
‘Since we’re here now, the road back to Baki village is blocked. There’s a path leading to the area where Prince Noah launched his surprise attack earlier. If we go that way, we’d pass through the village, but it would be difficult to approach due to war rumors. Then perhaps descending the cliff…’
“Lord Timothy?”
“Ah.”
Return to Burgos. Timothy became aware of the unconscious impulse that had moved him. Once he had roughly found the route, he stood up immediately as if he had no further business.
“Thank you for the tea. Rest well. For tomorrow.”
“…Yes, you rest as well.”
Watching Timothy’s departing figure without hesitation, the Officer continued to furrow his brow. And soon after, he noticed that Timothy had not taken even a single sip of tea. Truly, a strange fellow.
Whoosh.
Meanwhile, Timothy returned to his tent and began packing his belongings. There wasn’t much to pack, really. A length of rope he’d find useful, his weapons, and….
‘Bariel passage permits. Three uses total, and if traveling with companions, they’re deducted together.’
Timothy clutched his head. If I’d known this beforehand, I would have brought the permits with me.
Could Count Ian have foreseen all of this and given them to me for that reason? Or worse—was it a trap? No, if that were the case, the General’s demeanor wouldn’t have seemed so normal.
Timothy clenched his teeth and waited for the night to deepen further. Once everyone had fallen asleep and only the minimum guard remained on watch, I would mount a horse, slip out of camp, and return to Burgos.
He clasped his hands as though in prayer and conjured the faces of his wife and son.
“Damn it.”
It was the anxiety. The confusion clouding my mind. Otherwise, I should be able to picture their faces clearly. Come to think of it, when was the last time I played with my son? When did my wife and I sit down for tea and conversation?
I couldn’t remember at all. I thought I’d lived diligently for their sake, but the more I reflected, the more certain it became that something had gone terribly wrong. The fact that I could only recall King Damon’s face with perfect clarity said it all.
Timothy closed his eyes, reciting the route over and over. Please, let the deeper darkness come soon.
* * *
Dawn, when the heat from the makeshift brazier had nearly faded away.
I lay back against the sofa, gazing up at the ceiling. The geometric patterns without beginning or end resembled the tangled threads of human lives, I thought.
Though it was wartime, now that even the sun slept, this place felt unusually peaceful. Save for Berik’s snoring as he slept back-to-back with the mages.
“It’s moving, it’s moving….”
Akorelra, who had stayed awake all night fearing something might go wrong with the mana stone, murmured to herself. True to her words, the mana stone was tilting at a very slight angle.
To the right? The moment I tried to check outside the window, I heard rapid footsteps rushing down the corridor. It was a soldier from Clifford.
Tap-tap-tap!
Bang!
“Hey, Mages!”
“Close the door gently! The stones are scattering! And do you not know how to knock? Just bursting in like that! Really, what is this.”
“Ah, I’m, I’m sorry. A message just came from the palace—Prince Noah is summoning everyone to gather.”
Several mages stirred at the commotion. But they were half-asleep, their eyes merely fluttering as they struggled to regain consciousness.
I rose from the sofa and gestured for quiet.
“Akorelra. Stay here. I’ll return shortly.”
“Yes, yes. Please close the door gently when you leave. Hmm. It seems to have shifted a bit.”
It’s nothing serious, the mages who had been rustling about fell back into deep sleep. Berik, lost in whatever dream he was having, scratched his belly and chuckled softly to himself.
“But, he said ‘everyone’ should come.”
I am the superior and supervisor of these mages. Therefore, my presence alone is equivalent to all of them coming. I will hear what message has arrived and decide accordingly. Lead the way.”
The soldier’s lips pressed shut, sensing he was about to be scolded for nothing. Then, following Akorelra’s instruction, he closed the door as gently as possible and led me forward.
Officers were arriving from various quarters, still unarmed, filtering in one after another. They too had been summoned after trying to sleep in nearby barracks.
Creak.
“Prince. What is the matter?”
“You summoned us?”
Noah was holding his forehead as he stared down at the letter from the palace. When he noticed I had come alone, his brow furrowed.
“I said for all of you to come together.”
Though I understood this was an urgent summons, I judged it best that I alone meet with you, as the mages are currently recharging their mana for efficiency’s sake.”
The officers exchanged glances at Noah, clearing their throats awkwardly. I had openly admitted to defying his order. Had it been them, their heads would have rolled on the spot.
Yet whether the message from the palace was truly that urgent, Noah merely sighed once and turned his head away.
“Reinforcements have arrived, it seems.”
“Reinforcements?”
“Oh! Is that truly the case? So you summoned all the Mages as well. That’s fortunate. We have the advantage within the barrier, but if they receive additional soldiers, it becomes troublesome. Especially with those beasts in tow.”
“Then it would be best to strike as soon as dawn breaks.”
“Yes, that’s right. Before they can join forces, we should handle them first-”
Prince Noah furrowed his brow and raised his hand. That wasn’t it.
“Burgos’s reinforcements have arrived.”
“Your Highness, that means….”
“Ruswena.”
Ian explained on behalf of the officers who had just woken from sleep.
Who else would be allied with Burgos? Surely all of them were locked in a standoff at the border. Thus, the moment the war situation was shared, they would advance and crush Clifford from both sides.
“Ruswena is waiting, then? To receive reports on how the battle progresses, what the tide of war looks like, and whether Bariel has intervened.”
At Ian’s question, Noah clicked his tongue inwardly. Without even reading the royal correspondence, he recited it so precisely—now it was beyond mere surprise. It was irritating and unsettling. Noah pushed the paper toward the center of the table for all to see.
“The number of soldiers doesn’t seem that large. When we continue asking what’s happening on our end, we receive no response. A thorough wall. They intend to press from both front and rear simultaneously, scattering Clifford’s forces.”
They wanted to burst Clifford like a balloon. Noah looked at Ian and made his request.
“So then, could you dispatch a few Mages to the east? They said the number of soldiers isn’t many. Surely it’s possible with just a small contingent.”
If he simply agreed, they would be sent immediately from this very place. That’s why he had summoned everyone. Yet this arrogant Minister of Magic was casually holding up a prince’s command.
“….”
“Count Ian?”
He had expected quick acceptance, but Ian’s hesitation ran deep. The officers exchanged glances, their eyes fixed only on Ian’s face.
“That won’t be possible.”
“What?”
An unexpected answer.
They were as good as allied, and their current position was no different from mercenaries. Not sending everyone, just a few—merely to guard the rear and prevent their forces from being scattered—and he couldn’t do that?
The officers each added their words, trying to persuade Ian.
“Well, Count Ian. We have all witnessed and felt the power of the Mages. I understand that sending your subordinates separately is a burden, but surely deploying just one or two would-”
“There’s no record of what they’re wearing.”
“Pardon?”
What was he talking about? They would naturally be wearing Ruswena uniforms. The officers exchanged glances and sealed their lips. They sensed that a careless word here could change Clifford’s fate.
“Don’t you know? The black armor used in Haiman. Its primary material is dragon scales. Lady Haiman is of royal Ruswena descent and has close ties with them. When we’re already struggling to keep up with the pressure, they send only a small number of soldiers? The intent is far too obvious. I must refuse.”
There was a risk of sending just one or two Mages carelessly and having them die pointlessly. Ian waved the letter lightly and made a proposal.
“First, Clifford should focus on maintaining your standoff with Ruswena. Now that we know they’re waiting for communications, cutting off that contact network is the priority. I won’t send Mages to the border, but I will order them to search the surrounding area and sever contact between Burgos and Ruswena.”
Tap, tap. Ian furrowed his brow as if pondering something. Then he examined the map and traced his finger from Clifford’s east to west—from the border touching Ruswena to the border with Burgos.
“These forces likely have the possibility of sharing black armor. Send out scouts to confirm whether materials are being transported from Ruswena to Burgos. This is dead land, so the routes are limited. It shouldn’t be difficult.”
Could you manage that much? Ian’s gaze seemed to ask.
Noah squeezed his eyes shut, then nodded his head in resignation.
“…I understand, Count Ian.”

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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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