Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 378

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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 378
Fire. The Reactions of Burgos and Ruswena
Crash!
Damon slammed the table violently, and his advisors flinched. His short hair fell into disarray, though it paled in comparison to the ragged fury of his breathing.
Damon’s violet eyes flashed as he roared.
“How are you all doing your jobs?!”
“W-we beg your pardon, Your Highness.”
Various objects were hurled at the advisors, yet none of them dodged—they merely bowed their heads.
News of Timothy’s desertion reached the palace faster than anything else. As predicted, Timothy was last seen at his residence, and after that, his whereabouts became unknown.
“Not only does Timothy desert during wartime, but he escapes the capital without a hitch? When those who eat the nation’s bread act like this, what are the people supposed to see and think?!”
“P-please, execute us.”
“Enough of this!”
Damon’s fury did not subside easily.
I am at war with Cliffford, who has joined forces with Bariel. In a time when anyone capable of holding a weapon must be conscripted, I cannot spare manpower to capture one man. He most likely sought asylum in Bariel, yet strangely, his name does not appear in the border records.
Damon breathed heavily, grinding his teeth.
‘If I had known this would happen, I should have killed him from the start.’
It was the same in my past life. Back then, Timothy also betrayed his own brother and sought asylum in Bariel, which had a profound impact on international relations.
But I harbored a faint hope that this time would be different, that this time it might not happen. If I truly wanted to change the future, I should not have kept Timothy alive until now—I should have executed him immediately upon taking office.
“Damn it.”
As he ground his teeth, his advisors fell into deeper silence, not even allowing a single breath to be heard. He was already a sensitive man by nature, but now, during wartime, the defection of Timothy, a key figure in the diplomatic corps, would cause tremendous upheaval in the palace.
Fortunately, his successor appeared immediately to fill the void.
Knock, knock.
“Your Highness. We have received word from the supply forces.”
Please let it be good news. The advisors gazed at the entering servant, hoping it was word that they had successfully communicated with Ruswena and received supplies. But hope, as always, tends to betray expectations.
“Ruswena’s supply troops have not appeared on schedule.”
‘They are all dead now.’
The advisors fell silent in prayer, their hands clenched tightly beneath the table.
Damon’s brow furrowed. He had clearly received word that they were departing after crossing the land of death, so why were they not appearing?
“Are there any other issues?”
“Nothing has been reported yet, but the Supply Captain suggests that we dispatch our own personnel to investigate. He says this could reduce the time needed and requests that we give it serious consideration.”
Either they had claimed to send supplies but lied, or something had gone wrong in the process.
The latter seemed more plausible. There would be no benefit for Ruswena’s side to falsely claim they were sending supplies. After all, we share not only the alliance I forged with them but also the suspicion of violating the covenant regarding the dragon Carlin.
Damon immediately shook his head.
“No. We will remain in place and wait. The outside is a land of death—there is no need to venture out. Tell them that.”
“Yes, understood.”
Tap, tap. Damon turned his body toward the window as if deep in thought, falling silent.
The blockade of the supply route. This is not a path that Cliffford soldiers alone could easily discover. This means mages have been mobilized, and this demonstrates a clear show of alliance intent.
Alliance intent means the dispatch of reinforcements. As Damon spun around, everyone straightened their backs and fixed their gaze forward.
“Stop the pursuit of Timothy.”
“Pardon? Can we truly do that, Your Highness?”
“He must have gone to Bariel. We simply need to head in that direction. Prepare everything. I intended to time this carefully, but it seems better to push forward before then.”
Time this carefully? The Advisors simply bowed their heads at the King’s cryptic words, awaiting his command.
“All who can bear arms shall be conscripted and mobilized. And I shall personally take the field.”
“Your Highness will go yourself?”
“No, Your Majesty cannot leave the palace unguarded.”
“Timothy’s desertion has surely spread throughout the entire front lines. If we know of it here, how could they not know it there? For the sake of the soldiers’ morale, I must lead them personally.”
That was sound reasoning. If the King himself took the field, the soldiers’ broken spirits would rise again. Moreover, Damon’s declaration was tantamount to committing all his strength to this war.
At the meaningful glances exchanged between several Advisors, the Servants sprang into action—a signal to request maximum support from the Minority Tribes in the north. The corridor grew loud with the drafting and dispatch of letters, but Damon pressed on undeterred.
“And when the King of Eriponi learns that the supply lines have been cut, he will personally join the fray and pressure our rear. This is an extraordinary opportunity. No matter how many Mages Bariel possesses, he cannot leave the imperial palace undefended. It will be difficult to withstand attacks from both sides simultaneously. And does Ruswena not have Mages of her own?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Though their numbers are few and most live in seclusion, so their cooperation is uncertain. But if they are mobilized, the chances are quite promising.”
“Bring me a messenger bird. The Mages will be watching the border between Ruswena and Cliffford with keen eyes, so bring a standard royal messenger bird, not one enchanted with mana stones.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Tell the provincial Nobles to hasten their arrival. And bring my royal armor.”
Damon issued his commands while holding the royal seal.
That armor, worn only when royal personnel took the field. Only then did the Advisors truly grasp that war had arrived at their doorstep. As the council ended, they immediately relayed orders to their Subordinates.
“Tell the Countess to settle her affairs and go to her family home for the time being.”
“The King will march to war. I have no choice but to follow, so tell my family to leave the capital tonight without delay.”
“Make sure to gather the documents—especially everything in the study, not a single piece left behind. Yes. Since passage to Bariel will be difficult, first we go to the country estate.”
The common people, knowing nothing, lived their days gazing only at the sky, while those within the palace walls looked only to the earth.
At their orders, their Subordinates moved with even greater urgency, and soon the palace gates swung wide open to receive the arriving Nobles.
* * *
“What? The supply lines have been cut?”
Eriponi stubbed out her cigarette irritably and cried out.
When Eldetr nodded in confirmation, her mouth fell slightly open. Those were elite units she had sent to manage supplies. How could they be cut off so easily?
“Report in detail.”
“The wagon convoy traveling along the lower road of the Dead Lands was ambushed. It appears the Mages confirmed the location from the sky and relayed it to reinforcements. Whether these were Cliffford’s reinforcements or Bariel’s, we cannot determine. The reporting Soldier observed from quite a distance.”
To prepare for any contingencies, a separate group followed at a distance behind the main convoy. They were tasked with returning to the capital and reporting if problems arose with the supplies, and they fulfilled this duty faithfully.
The problem, however, was that the distance was too great to confirm which direction the wagons went or which nation had ambushed them.
Eriponi threw her cigarette to the ground and stood abruptly, stepping close to Eldetr and pressing her hand against his chest.
“Do you have more unpleasant reports for me to hear?”
“…The supplies via other routes have not yet been reported on.”
“If the lowest point of the Dead Lands has been discovered, what happens above is obvious. The last Soldier sending word was captured and killed. That’s the only logical conclusion, isn’t it? Isn’t it?”
“It is premature to conclude. The transported goods vary, so the variables are considerable.”
“This is ridiculous. What of Bariel? Still no contact?”
“No, Your Majesty. My apologies.”
They had demanded an official statement regarding the justification for unilaterally halting trade, but were met with silence. At first, she thought it was merely economic sanctions to prevent war involvement, but the swift discovery of the supply routes suggested otherwise.
The path to Bariel had been cut off. By that small brat.
“I was lenient with her, and she turned out to be cunning.”
Eriponi picked up a fresh cigarette and turned her head. A Servant approached and lit it for her, and she exhaled smoke with a sigh.
If all the transported goods were discovered and confiscated, how could their value be measured in numbers? If this continued, Ruswena would have no choice but to take a harder stance.
“Summon the Mages.”
“Indeed, there is no other path.”
“Tell them that if they refuse, they will face the consequences. Before they are Mages, they are citizens of Ruswena, and it is their turn to stand for the nation’s interests. I have given them far too much freedom.”
Unlike Bariel, the Mages of Ruswena dwelt in seclusion beyond the palace walls, each pursuing their own research and cultivation.
Ruswena’s side lamented the loss of their manpower, but it was unavoidable. As an agricultural nation, their pursuits differed, and above all, there had been no justification to conscript them by force.
“Now that…”
Now, justification existed.
The General who had overseen Ruswena’s supply lines would surely have revealed his identity and purpose to the enemy. Even if it were a lie.
Yet despite this, they were annihilated in the attack—something Ruswena could not ignore at the national level.
“Send the army formally. Inform those holding the border that reinforcements will arrive.”
Perhaps this was fortunate. From Ruswena’s perspective, the justification was clear, allowing them to participate freely without entanglement with Bariel or Burgos, and to withdraw if needed.
She gathered her long hair into a single knot and nodded.
“I shall go as well.”
“Pardon? Your Highness?”
“You know the nature of Mages.”
No matter how justified the cause, the Mages would not welcome conscription. Thus, Eriponi herself had to march forth to encourage and rally them.
Moreover, she needed to see with her own eyes how the tide of war in Cliffford was turning.
“Tell them the barrier is to be opened—I enter Cliffford to investigate the dead lands.”
Why go through Cliffford when she could simply return? They would never open it, nor could they.
Thus war erupts. At that moment when the fangs locked in deadly tension begin to slip, when one first tears at the throat—that is the beginning of history.
“Ah, and halt the bow crafting intended as a gift for the Prince.”
“Is that wise? Should we not prepare in case of unforeseen circumstances?”
“Our trade routes are blocked anyway. If we say production halted because of that, there’s nothing to dispute. In war, the most vital resources are money and people. There’s no need to expend effort on such things now.”
She was a King who loved the hunt. She walked with a cigarette between her lips, her footsteps sharp and deliberate, as she lifted the bar. Countless arrows stood densely packed within.
Eriponi stood before the center, facing an enormous golden arrow as tall as herself, and gazed upward at it. A subtle smile played across her face—she did not appear displeased at all.
“It has been long since I tasted true hunting.”

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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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