Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 391

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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 391
Fire. A Brief Ceasefire
Whoosh!
Even amid the chaos, there was a killing intent that stood out distinctly. Berik reflexively twisted his body to shield Ian, and found himself face-to-face with an arrow that barely grazed past his nose.
The arrow carried more than just wind. An unfamiliar surge of mana. The arrow flew straight and true, piercing the heart of a Clippoford Soldier standing directly behind, then exploded, tearing the corpse to shreds.
Boom!
“Ahhhhh!”
The arrow bore the royal insignia of Ruswena. Berik’s eyes widened as he glared at Eriponi, and soon found himself meeting the King’s gaze.
Those three-hundred-year-old teal eyes. She furrowed her brow.
“Tsk. Next.”
Zing. Zing.
Eldetr handed the arrow to Zaira, and the child infused it with mana before presenting it to the King. The defiant demeanor visible just moments before had vanished without a trace. Eriponi murmured with satisfaction.
“That’s how it should be from the start. How pretty, isn’t it? Hmm?”
“….”
Tap, tap. Eriponi tapped Zaira’s cheek and laughed. Then she drew her bowstring taut again, aiming once more at Ian’s heart. Nearly eight feet tall with arms to match her frame.
Berik easily anticipated the next attack and shouted.
“Eriponi is targeting Ian! Block it!”
“…Eriponi? That insolent creature.”
Whoosh!
Eriponi drew and released her bowstring relentlessly, targeting Ian. Her shoulders were set firmly, her posture unwavering. Her gaze was hard and persistent. Even as Berik retreated with the help of soldiers, he never took his eyes off her.
Eriponi reached back with her hand, but no arrow came.
“Ah, really.”
How irritating. Can’t you handle even one thing like this swiftly?
Eriponi turned back again, and this time she thought she would have to properly scold someone. Not until she faced Zaira, whose face had gone pale and who was dripping with sweat.
“Why are you like this?”
“She is still young, Your Majesty. Her mana is not as developed as an adult’s, so please show mercy. I shall do it instead. Zaira, come here. It’s alright.”
Zaira bit her trembling lips firmly and handed over the last arrow. A faint coldness emanated from it. Eriponi traced the arrowhead with her fingertip, and her expression became unreadable.
“You say she is young, but does mana have anything to do with age? Look at Ian Hielo being carried away over there—he hasn’t even come of age yet. I hear he inherited the blood of an Elder and possesses exceptional talent for magic.”
“…I apologize.”
“Enough. I don’t expect much. Simply serve Ruswena obediently. Send the child away and bring me another Mage.”
“Yes. I shall do so.”
One of the Mages stepped forward eagerly, saying he had been waiting.
Trudge, trudge. Zaira retreated weakly, and soon someone grasped the child’s shoulder and whispered.
“Zaira. What did you do?”
“…What?”
It was the man who had raised Zaira alongside the Elder. He knelt and examined the child’s palm. The arrowhead had torn it so badly that it was painful to look at with open eyes.
The man spoke again through gritted teeth.
“I asked what you did to the Prince’s arrow. You didn’t just infuse it with mana.”
“….”
The child looked up at the sky with defiant eyes. The grandmother who had been so vividly alive just moments before had ignited into ash and vanished. So how could she possibly serve the King with a joyful heart?
The Boy grabbed the Man’s neck tightly.
“Grandmother used to say that often. Don’t hold onto what you receive just as it is. Whether it’s anger or love. If you pile it up inside, there’s no room left and it suffocates your breath. But you know what?”
The two embraced each other tightly. Zaira watched Eriponi, who remained focused on shooting her arrows.
“I’m greedy, so I can only accumulate it. I’ll hold onto everything. So someday, when the other person needs it the least, I’ll give it back. And I’ll tell them that’s what you gave me.”
“…Zaira, please. Okay?”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.”
The King was right. Zaira was young, but among the Mages, she possessed talent second only to the Elder. It was simply a power she couldn’t control herself.
Some would call it a blessing, others a curse. The Man had always regarded Zaira’s power as a wondrous gift from the Divine, but for some reason, at this very moment, something felt terribly wrong.
Boom!
Crack!
At the thunderous sound, both their gazes turned in the opposite direction.
The Mage Knights were swiftly and precisely shattering the black armor. Moving almost as one body, refusing any attack whatsoever, they were nearly impossible to follow with the eye.
“M-Mage Knight! A Mage is being dragged over there!”
“Move aside!”
“All who lay hands on a Mage shall be annihilated!”
Whoosh!
The Mage Knights tasked with rescue were fulfilling their role as well.
Just as with Berik, enemy forces armed with Idgal shields stood in their way, but the situation was slightly different from before. They had already secured a Mage and were turning their backs as they entered the main camp, while the Mage Knights were in pursuit.
Without proper defense, the Burgos and Ruswena forces fell helplessly one after another.
Screech!
Creak.
“The barrier gate has opened!”
“Retreat! All those nearby, enter at once! Ian Hielo will be coming through!”
“Clear the way! Guard the entrance! More Mages will continue to be escorted. Don’t let a single enemy step inside!”
“Move aside! Aaahhh!”
The barrier that had been firmly sealed began to open.
If that opened, securing Ian would come to nothing. Eriponi cursed under her breath watching the struggling black armor, and mounted her horse directly.
“I’ll go myself.”
“That’s impossible, Your Highness! It’s absolute chaos!”
“This is the opportunity. If I miss it, I’ll regret this moment until my dying day. Those black-armored ones—!”
Grit. Eriponi was about to unleash a barrage of curses when she stopped. Ruswena’s main force hadn’t arrived yet. Though they were at a disadvantage, if they continued to press with numbers, there was still a chance of victory.
“Tell them to focus only on restraining the Mage Knights. Damn them. I’m so frustrated I’ll run myself.”
Neigh!
“Your Highness. Just a moment!”
Eldetr firmly gripped Eriponi’s horse’s reins and tried to stop her. The situation was grave. Especially from Burgos’s side, they seemed to be placing significance on having defeated the Bariel Mage, showing signs of retreat.
“Calm yourself and order a retreat first. Both Clippoford and Burgos are doing the same. Did we not come here to ally with King Damon and claim fertile lands? It would be far wiser to communicate and plan our next moves. Above all, with the Mage Knights raging as they are, going yourself is far too dangerous.”
At Eldetr’s desperate pleas, Eriponi screamed, tearing at her hair.
At that far end, she could see Berik entering the barrier with Ian. Cradling him like a small child, surrounded by the escort of Clippoford Soldiers.
“Damn it. What in the world is Damon doing? Send word at once! If you can’t use the Synthetic Monsters properly, don’t bring them at all! They’re just a stench!”
“We’ll prepare. Let us establish our camp as well.”
“Hah.”
“Shall I order a retreat?”
“…Order it. What of the Mages we’ve secured?”
“From our side right now….”
Eldetr deferred the question to his subordinates. The General bowed his head slightly and reported.
“We secured two, but one was reclaimed by the Mage Knight, and the other is bleeding heavily—he appears to be dying soon.”
“Just make sure the mana-sealing stones are properly filled. Mages don’t die even when they seem to be dying. Even as corpses, they may prove useful later.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Thwack!
Eriponi hurled her bowstring to the ground and lit a cigarette.
Stepping back one pace, she could see that Eldetr’s judgment was sound. The Burgos forces appeared focused on securing Mages and retreating rather than continuing the battle.
Then she felt a gaze upon her. Eriponi noticed Zaira staring at her intently, and she exhaled smoke in a manner that seemed almost defiant.
Zaira slowly bowed her head, honoring the dignity of the King.
* * *
“Ian! What is happening?”
“Ian, please come to your senses.”
“Can’t you see Ian’s eyes are open?”
“No, I mean—his eyes are open, but his mind isn’t returning. Do you recognize me? It’s Heil.”
“Here! The bleeding won’t stop! Pour some mana in!”
“Captain Heil! Will Ian be alright on his own?”
“He’ll be fine. Go check on the wounded. And prepare a roster of those who’ve returned. We need to see who hasn’t entered the barrier yet.”
“The Mage Knights continue to roam the battlefield. There! Another one coming in!”
“So how many are left? Wait, let me see.”
Inside the barrier.
Heil and the Mages who had rushed upon hearing the news moved busily, tending to their comrades. Most of the wounds were inflicted by Idgal weapons, so infusing mana seemed unlikely to produce any significant effect.
Yet they could not simply give up. Like pouring water into a bottomless vessel, they grasped the hands of those wandering in and out of consciousness, transferring their mana.
“Stay with me. Don’t fall asleep.”
“Ugh, this really hurts. I can’t feel my strength.”
“At least this one can still talk. Good. We’re safe. Who’s in the worst condition right now?”
“Over here, Captain Heil!”
“Akorelra!”
“Why are you calling me, damn it! I’m busy!”
“Don’t infuse mana—make an amplifier instead. Side effects are fine, just do it quickly however you can. Request aid from the royal palace. Got it?”
“How am I supposed to make that here!…is what I’d like to say, but I’ll manage somehow. Damn bastards. How dare they touch Mages. When I see them next, they’re all dead.”
Ian stared blankly at the ceiling, taking in the chaos around him. Someone was gravely wounded, another had yet to return, and yet another was on the brink of death.
Because of me.
Because of my failure.
“Ian.”
Berik noticed something was wrong with Ian’s gaze. His pupils had become hollow and vacant. The composed, steadfast look he always carried was nowhere to be found. Berik continued to grip Ian’s shoulders and shake him.
“Ian, are you hurt somewhere? Say something. The Doctors are here. But there are many bleeding, so they’re seeing them first, alright? Ian. Are you listening to me?”
“…me?”
“Huh?”
I swallowed hard, muttering something incoherent. At my words, the Mages who had been tending to the wounded stopped in unison, holding their breath.
“What did you say?”
“…I asked who else died because of me.”
“That’s… what… what are you talking about?”
Berik furrowed his brow, utterly bewildered. How was he supposed to answer such a question in the midst of war? Could anyone possibly account for every drop of blood spilled outside these walls?
As Berik stood frozen, Captain Akorella, who had been heading toward the door, pushed past him and knelt down.
“Ian. Can you hear me?”
“Akorella, Ian’s acting strange.”
“It’s a side effect of the Bitter River spell. He’s absorbing all the pain he’s felt in an instant, so the psychological damage will be severe. Ian. I don’t know what’s troubling you or what you’re thinking. But listen—it’s all false thoughts.”
Akorella shouted directly into my ear.
“None of our people died because of you. They all came back alive thanks to you.”
“….”
“Consciously reject it. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s a lie. Get your mind straight and look at reality. Are we dying, or are we surviving?”
But I kept repeating the same words over and over. Who died because of me, who was wounded because of me, because of me….
“Ian!”
Those receiving treatment, aside from the critically wounded Mages, rushed closer to me in alarm.
“Look at us. Ian. We foresaw this from the moment we left the Imperial Palace. Who among those who departed would return without wounds? We made this decision of our own accord. How could you say such things?”
“Yes. So please don’t say such things. Captain Akorella, when will the Bitter River spell’s side effects wear off?”
“It varies by person, so I can’t say for certain. Let’s prescribe sedatives first.”
I stared straight ahead, yet saw nothing at all. Tears streamed continuously down my cheeks. Berik pressed his forehead against my shoulder repeatedly, muttering.
“Ugh, really. Why is he like this? I’m losing my mind.”
No matter how forcefully they insisted that their wounds didn’t come from me, it seemed he wouldn’t hear them.
Berik kept his forehead pressed against mine until my tears stopped, his expression twisted with concern. And whenever I muttered a question, he answered with the same words.
“Ian, I support you.”
“…would I?”
“Yes. Ian. Everyone here supports you.”
“…then?”
“Still. Ian. I support you.”
A Doctor, summoned for the sedative, rushed over and injected it into my forearm. My eyes gradually closed. Finally, the tears stopped.
Berik and the Mages exhaled in relief, burying their heads in the bed. A single tear from Ian’s resolute eyes shook them far more than any wound or death.
I wished he could have known that, but now that he was asleep, he wouldn’t hear it. They brushed back their hair and met each other’s eyes.

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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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