Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 39

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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 39. The Battle Begins
“Ugh—hack.”
Berik convulsed upright and retched violently. Ian, who had been reading beside him, handed him water and watched over him carefully.
When I returned to the barracks, I had barely regained consciousness, just as the physician had said. For someone with holes punctured through his body, that was remarkable enough….
“Are you alright?”
“My stomach feels queasy….”
“Why exactly?”
“I don’t know. Did the physician mix alcohol into the medicine?”
As time passed, my body’s condition improved at an astonishing rate. I still couldn’t get out of bed, but judging by the way I spoke and carried myself, it seemed my life was definitely saved.
“Can you straighten your waist a bit?”
“I have no strength in it at all. Should I try?”
“No. The wound could reopen.”
“Ugh. How much herbal medicine did they stuff in here?”
Berik grumbled, disgusted by the plant residue he could feel with his fingertips.
Ian examined him carefully while holding an empty cup. He knew that Mage Knights had superior combat ability and recovery compared to ordinary people. He knew that, but….
‘Was it this much?’
The speed of recovery was so remarkable it bordered on miraculous. Even the physician seemed surprised, so the Cheonryeo Tribe wouldn’t be like this either.
“Berik. Do you remember your parents’ faces?”
“Huh? Of course I do. They’re all dead now, but I remember them.”
Since I wasn’t born an orphan from the start, I remembered my mother and father’s faces clearly. I also held onto memories that were far from pleasant to call mere recollections.
At Berik’s answer, Ian seemed to sink deeper into a mystery. If he had said he didn’t remember, he could at least suspect that non-human blood was mixed in.
“…I see.”
“Huh?”
While Ian pondered deeply, Berik muttered under his breath.
“Should’ve stabbed both sides, left and right. That bastard, he punched a hole right through my ribs and died peacefully with his eyes closed. What was his name again? Bel?”
Berik seemed bitter about exchanging blows with each other—Bel was dead while he lived. When Ian nodded lightly, Berik ground his teeth even harder.
“Those knight bastards, I never even saw their noses before. Seems like they actually trained. Anyway, when are we heading back to Bratz?”
“Soon. It could even be tomorrow.”
“Yeah. That’s the best news I’ve heard.”
“The Central Army is marching down, and we’ve received word that Count Derga has mobilized his troops. Su is sending us information from the Borderlands, but since it’s not real-time, we can’t know the details. That’s why we’ll leave as quickly as possible.”
“Good, good. It’s too hot here.”
“Berik. I don’t think I can take you with me.”
“What?! Why?!”
Berik turned his head sharply, then reflexively clutched his ribs. That was precisely the reason. It was a wound so deep that an ordinary person would have died.
“Because you can’t walk.”
“I think I’ll be able to walk by tomorrow.”
“Walking isn’t everything. You need to wield a sword. Focus on treatment here until the matter at Bratz is resolved.”
“I don’t want to!”
The moment Ian finished speaking, Berik cried out. But soon, as if in pain, he flopped down and curled up his body.
“Damn it….”
“Whether I like it or not, there’s no choice.”
“Wha—? So you’re using me and throwing me away. Shameless, traitor, piece of garbage.”
Ian smiled faintly, and Berik bit his lip hard. He looked exactly like a stubborn child throwing a tantrum.
“If you’re worried about the tavern owner you owed a debt to, I’ll look into it separately.”
I’d instructed the manor staff to stop working when I left, but I wasn’t sure if Hena and the servants had complied. Surely when the fighting broke out, they would instinctively flee to the neutral zone near the bank. At my attempt to comfort him, Berik clicked his tongue in disbelief.
“That’s not it.”
“Then what?”
“The Central Army! The Count’s private soldiers! And the Cheonryeo Tribe on top of that—a real proper battle! And I’m supposed to sit here twiddling my thumbs? That’s not fair!”
The battle cries echoing across the battlefield, the satisfying slash of steel, the thrill of clashing bodies and dancing with death itself. He’d been waiting and waiting for all of it.
“Absolutely not. I won’t hear any objections. I’ll go even if you have to carry me. Honestly, you and me—aren’t we master and apprentice? How can a teacher abandon his student!”
“Berik. That’s quite surprising. So this is how you treat your teacher? Strictly speaking, we have a master-servant relationship… though I suppose that’s equally surprising.”
“You said you’d let me use my magic! Every day is precious!”
“Don’t you remember?”
“Remember what? Don’t you dare say something different, or I’ll—”
“When you fought Bel, you produced magic on your own.”
“…Who did?”
“You.”
At Ian’s words, Berik’s eyes just blinked. Judging by his expression of complete disbelief, there were clearly gaps in his memory.
Ian smiled and straightened his blanket, then noticed Nersaren entering the tent.
“Ian.”
“Nersaren.”
“Come outside for a moment.”
As I hurried outside, Kakantir had his face buried in the hawk’s neck. His breathing was deep and heavy. The sharp scent of blood was unmistakable.
“The timing is perfect.”
“Kakantir?”
“Ian. Count Derga has succeeded in surrounding the manor with his private soldiers. The Investigation Team seems to be holding their ground, but they appear to be waiting for reinforcements from the Central Army while looking for an opportunity.”
“The Investigation Team is, as the name suggests, an advance force sent down first for investigation. They wouldn’t be equipped to handle a full-scale confrontation. The Central Army should have arrived by now.”
“The problem is the sentiment of the estate’s residents.”
“The estate’s residents?”
At my question, Kakan nodded briefly.
“They’ve gathered at the center of the estate and taken up arms.”
“Ah. That’s because there’s a bank there.”
“A bank?”
I exhaled in relief, having been tense for a moment. If they were to split apart and cause internal division, it would become difficult to read the situation. If this became a four-way conflict instead of a three-way one, the uncertainty would only increase.
“It’s called Haiman Bank, which handles Bariel’s financial infrastructure. There’s always at least one branch in any region. It’s probably in the Dion area.”
“We don’t know the areas behind Bratz well.”
“There was a rebellion in Dion once, and the bank was completely destroyed in the chaos. As a result, Haiman Bank refused banking services to anyone involved in the Dion Rebellion.”
The rebels couldn’t use anything but barter for their economic activities, let alone access their deposited assets. They were reduced to carrying hundreds of kilograms of coins or conducting transactions that couldn’t be traced if lost.
“Bariel has only one banking family. The rebels had no other options. Thanks to that, the rebels’ momentum declined within a few years, and Bariel succeeded in suppressing the rebellion.”
“So that bank is a sanctuary, then.”
“Indeed. Along with the temple, it is an inviolable domain. That is precisely why the territory’s people have flocked there.”
Those words meant the stench of blood seeping into the Bratz Estate was far from trivial. Ian continued with a grave expression.
“We must hurry. Those without the bank’s protection will gradually turn back to Count Derga as time passes.”
Bariel’s center was the Imperial Palace, but Bratz’s center was Count Derga. His private soldiers were family, neighbors, and friends. The more their homeland crumbled, the stronger their desire to reclaim their former lives would become.
“We enter Bariel.”
“I shall return to Bariel.”
As Kakantir and Ian spoke simultaneously, Nersaren and his subordinates burst into laughter. The two exchanged glances once more and uttered the same words.
“Tomorrow itself.”
* * *
“What of Merelrof?”
“They refused to even receive the letter, it seems.”
“Damn dogs. This is why merchants are worthless to associate with.”
Count Derga ground his teeth as he thought of Marquis Merelrof, his neighboring lord. Like Count Derga, who bore responsibility for the Borderlands, Merelrof held the same position.
However, unlike Bratz, which stood in opposition to the Cheonryeo Tribe, Merelrof fulfilled its duty as a trade hub with the foreign Hawan Kingdom.
“They lack sufficient soldiers anyway. Since they’re all engaged in commerce, their labor force is pitiful. If we seize this chance to crush the central forces and declare independence, we should simply devour them as well.”
Deo muttered while wiping blood from his blade. Independence would inevitably require expanding the territory by consuming neighboring lands. It was a natural choice for Marquis Merelrof, who understood this well, yet Count Derga felt an inexplicable sense of betrayal.
Even without sending soldiers, Merelrof could have stepped forward to mediate, but instead, he turned a blind eye, fearing the flames might reach him.
“Destroy it! Bring larger timber!”
“Oil the arrowheads! Set them ablaze!”
“Fire! Keep firing!”
“Roaaaar! Come out, you bastards!”
“Advance! Keep advancing!”
“Aaaaagh!”
Boom! Boom-boom!
He had only ever contemplated facing the Cheonryeo Tribe, never imagining he would find himself assaulting his own manor. Count Derga, bewildered by the lack of siege equipment, continued launching flaming arrows skyward.
Whoooosh. Whoooosh.
Then it happened. A deep horn blast reached the Bratz Estate. Everyone froze and turned to look behind them. On the distant hilltop horizon, something writhed like ants, climbing upward. It was the central reinforcement army bearing the Imperial Palace’s banner. Count Derga furrowed his brow and drove his soldiers harder.
“Hurry! Hurry!”
“Dig the trenches deeper from that end to this one!”
“Block the bridge coming this way!”
“Faster, faster!”
Whether those inside the manor had noticed the central army’s arrival, finally a response came from within. The Bratz banner descended, and the Imperial Palace Investigation Team’s banner was raised in its place.
“Those damn dogs….”
Count Derga felt his reason slipping away beneath the surging rage. He would kill them all. He would burn every outsider who had invaded his territory alive.
“Go! Kill them all!”
“Move while hugging this high ground as much as possible!”
“Slaughter them all!”
The homeland where he had lived his entire life. He knew its terrain with his eyes closed. No matter how formidable the central army, controlling the terrain meant winning half the battle before it even began.
Shrieeee.
Massive hawks circled high above the Bratz Estate. But the soldiers, focused on the death-bringing enemy before them, failed to notice, and only the territory’s people, who gazed toward the heavens, perceived the hawks’ presence.
“Let us in! Open the bank doors!”
“Stop pushing, I said!”
“Hey! I work here! You bastards!”
“A janitor? What nonsense are you spouting? Move!”
“Help us! The Central forces slaughtered everyone from the manor! They burned them alive! They said they’d tear us limb from limb if the army arrives!”
“Ahhh! Don’t step on me!”
In Portro, where the Haiman Bank stood as a sanctuary beyond reach, the desperate cries of estate residents echoed everywhere as they sought refuge. Those unable to flee their homes could only bolt their doors shut and pray.
“Sister.”
“Hmm?”
Hena, who had been praying with her hands clasped together, opened her eyes slightly at her brother’s call. A thin beam of light filtered through a gap no larger than a palm. The innocent child murmured in wonder, not understanding anything.
“Such an enormous bird.”
“A bird….”
Hena also lifted her gaze to the sky. A sense of déjà vu washed over her. She soon realized it was the Cheonryeo Tribe’s bird—the same one she had seen at the manor.

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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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