Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 411

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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 411
Fire. Efdiram’s Proposal
I wiped the sweat from my brow and brought cool water to my lips. My strength had drained so completely that even swallowing proved difficult, yet simply holding the chill in my mouth brought a strange comfort.
I looked down at my hands, which remained far from clean. Despite the servants’ efforts with damp cloths, the blood of my enemies still clung to my skin in places.
“….”
And the magic that had been fierce enough to bury that death.
I covered my eyes with my arm and exhaled weakly. The path I walked was far too rough and dizzying. What was it that God watched? How far had I come without knowing it, and what kind of path lay ahead of me?
I suddenly recalled the annex I had shared with Naum. On days as disorienting as this, I wished to read a book in a room with wide-open windows. Like the air itself, with someone whose presence brought peace.
“Iaaaan!”
Crash! Bang!
I recognized the voice’s owner from the sound echoing down the corridor alone. It was Berik. He came tumbling in, threw open the door, and rushed toward the bed.
I merely tilted my head slightly to look at him. Despite the commotion, there was no tension in his manner. It was nothing serious—just his usual self.
“What is it?”
“They’re here. Strange ones.”
“The Atan Clan?”
“Yeah. The curly-haired clan chief is coming up.”
Did he realize that he himself was included in those strange ones? I raised my eyebrows and asked.
“Berik. When you crossed blades with Efdiram, did you feel anything?”
An awakened race that manifested their nature. Through Jairot’s investigation, it was nearly certain that Berik was of the Atan Clan. It was both a problem and a blessing that he remained unaware of it himself.
Berik crossed his arms and exhaled roughly through his nose.
“Yeah. There was.”
“What was it?”
“It was a bit heavy, but manageable.”
“….”
“I just thought I could’ve done it better if I had more muscle.”
I laughed, narrowing my eyes. What had I expected?
Behind the door Berik had burst through came the sound of footsteps. Multiple overlapping steps. The Mages seemed to be escorting and monitoring Efdiram.
“Well, you’re still alive then?”
The moment Efdiram saw me, she gave a casual salute and dragged over a chair. Behind her, the Mages wore expressions of clear displeasure.
‘How irritating.’
That was what they all seemed to be thinking in unison.
What was the matter? I asked with a glance, but Heil only scratched his nose frantically. The Mages of the great empire Bariel couldn’t possibly be ignorant of purification magic, and they had fully absorbed Efdiram’s mockery on that point. Unable to refute her, they could only express their dissatisfaction through such expressions.
Efdiram laughed, gesturing toward the Mages with a nod.
“You should live long, really. What good are they when they’re so dull? Don’t you think, Minister Ian Hielo?”
“Who is the one accompanying you from behind?”
“Ah, family. Someone dedicated to handling my affairs. Do you want to know their name? Or is this the imperial way of greeting?”
Efdiram glanced at my palm without hiding her curiosity. How had the Minister of Magic of the empire used purification magic, why was it bound to Idgal of all people, and why did King Damon possess it? She was full of questions.
Yet Efdiram didn’t expect an imperial official to readily hand over information. Even if her curiosity was pure, people from that side were all the same, weren’t they?
I shook my head lightly and extended my hand.
“This is how the imperial greeting goes.”
“Ah, we can do that too.”
“Everyone’s inside the barrier, right?”
“No. What are they relying on? Our people are still outside.”
Efdiram leaned back against her seat and spoke. It was a natural choice for her own safety and that of her subordinates.
“What if we talked over a meal?”
“Ah, I’ll bring my own food. From the looks of it, I don’t think I can even get up? And I’m quite picky about people. I get indigestion eating with strangers.”
“You’re joking.”
“Who is?”
One of the Mages reflexively responded, and Efdiram, also reflexively, spun around. Seeing this, Ian leisurely wet his throat with water.
Handling these people was simple. Their purpose was clear, leaving no room for division. On the surface, they appeared blindly committed, seemingly without a single gap, but that very aspect was their weakness. Conversely, it meant they could flexibly choose any path to achieve their objective.
Ian simply needed to offer them a better choice than Damon. He began his opening move.
“You saw that King Damon was captured, didn’t you?”
“Of course. My eyesight is excellent.”
“Publicly, Burgos has been defeated. There are still Ruswena and the northern minority tribes including yourselves, but this remains an unchanging fact. I don’t know what arrangement you made with Damon, but it would be wise to recognize first that it has been voided and cannot be fulfilled.”
“You don’t know what arrangement I made with Damon? Surely not. I don’t really like being tested like that.”
The cracks would be widened to draw forth a flood of monsters, and the Atan Clan would cooperate, receiving abundant, satisfying blood in return.
It was transparent. Given the Atan Clan’s nature of not being attached to material things, what they valued was primitive satisfaction—whether psychological or physical satiation.
Ian continued as if unaware.
“If you naturally void your contract with Burgos and return north, I won’t demand compensation for your participation. Furthermore, Bariel will strengthen northern control through Burgos, and at that time, I will grant you territories where you can freely roam. In exchange, you must maintain certain boundaries.”
“You’re going to pen us up and raise us like livestock?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“If you fence us in and tell us to just eat and live here, that’s livestock, isn’t it?”
“Humans draw boundaries and fences around themselves, living within them. The Atan Clan are human too, so it’s only natural.”
Efdiram fell silent, her head bobbing slightly as if deep in thought. The Mages focused on the back of her head, and soon heard a playful voice.
“Then okay. I get it. Good is good, so if we keep rampaging, it might agitate the cracks, and we can’t predict the movements of Burgos’s remnants either, so it’s better for both of us if we leave. Right? And we’d hate to lose our people unnecessarily in the process. That would be so sad.”
The Atan Clan had a very precise grasp of what influence they could exert in the current situation. While not powerful enough to overturn the tide of war, they were significant enough to cast ash on the atmosphere of victory.
Especially the Imperial Guard wanted nothing more than a perfect, clean victory. This was the Crown Prince’s first personally appointed expedition, and the imperial palace’s standing would be determined by this affair. Moreover, as Bariel’s Minister and a supporter of Gin, Ian desired the same.
“Quite so. A sad thing indeed. Beyond your native northern territories, is there anything else you desire?”
According to the original history, the time for the Atan Clan to prosper through the great monster flood was not far off.
Regardless of other matters, it was wise to establish certain safeguards to minimize damage, and Ian had no intention of missing this opportunity. The Atan Clan were not people one could easily meet and bring to the negotiation table like this, making it all the more important.
“There is! Let’s eat some meat.”
“Well, Cliffford would certainly provide that on humanitarian grounds.”
Cliffford’s servant, who had been listening quietly, flinched and backed out of the room. He needed to inform Prince Noah of this. When Berik’s daily consumption was already a burden, with Berik pressing his forehead in frustration, meat enough to feed the entire Atan Clan? It was safe to assume next year’s livestock were already doomed.
The Mages clicked their tongues and glared at the back of Efdiram’s head. If they had their way, they’d starve her!
“And tell only me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’d know as a Minister, right? Pursuit magic. Why did it activate through that particular object at that particular time? I’m so curious I can’t even think about food.”
Efdiram grinned and glanced back at the Mages. See this? You’re dying of curiosity, aren’t you? Even if you never find out, I will, and I’ll gloat about it—her expression made that perfectly clear.
The Mages rushed forward and each threw in their own plea.
“Minister Ian! Please don’t say a word!”
“Yes. It would be better if we pooled our strength and slaughtered these Atan Clan bastards. That would be good for Cliffford and his men as well.”
“You keep saying ‘let’s see, let’s see’ since earlier—do you think this is a playground? Did you come here to play, Atan Clan Chief? Huh?”
“Ian. There’s no reason whatsoever for me to give you information. It would be to your advantage to defeat someone like Berik and rest. We’ll handle the cleanup in the meantime.”
“What? Someone like Berik? What do you mean by that?”
The Mages’ fierce objections escalated, and even Berik jumped in, turning everything into chaos. Ian exhaled quietly.
Idgal. And Damon. Both were words that had no place alongside Ian, the Minister of Magic. If there was any connection whatsoever, even the slightest thread linking them, it would clearly become a problem. And now they were asking him to tell only him about it? When even the Mage Disciples themselves were being cautious and couldn’t speak carelessly!
“Tch. If you’re jealous, just say you’re jealous. Blockheads.”
“B-b-bawk?”
Efdiram flicked her finger and called out one of the Mages.
“Come out here, the one who said something like Berik earlier.”
“Yeah! I can’t stand that either. You’re comparing me to this curly-haired idiot? And you call us family?”
“Why would we be family? You’re Imperial Guards. We’re the Mage Ministry. Different rice bowls. Different people serving the rice.”
“Ian gives me my rice, doesn’t he? Who gives you yours?”
“W-well, Ian does.”
“So what’s the difference!”
As Berik lunged at the Mage and grabbed his collar, Efdiram began clapping, saying he was doing well.
Ah, so that was subtly irritating. Both Berik and the Mage frowned and glared at her. But Efdiram simply winked lightly and added this much.
“Well, or maybe I’ll just take that Berik guy.”
“What? Me?”
“What? Him?”
Efdiram spat her gum onto the ground with a splat and shrugged her shoulders.
“Does nobody really know? Or are you all pretending not to know? That Berik—he’s Atan Clan. His head’s still soft, so he doesn’t even know what he is yet. I’ll take him and work him well. When I get bored sometimes, I can even use him to sharpen my blade.”
“You sharpen your blade with… people?”
“Can’t sharpen it that way. But that Berik guy seems like he’d sharpen well?”
When Efdiram burst into laughter, the Mages hesitantly crowded forward and blocked the space in front of Berik. They thought she’d lost her mind, but she’d truly gone completely mad.
“B-Berik would probably be useless anyway.”
“Right. Even though that Berik looks sturdy, he’s kind of… well. If we take him, he’d just eat us out of house and home.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s right. I wouldn’t take him if it were me.”
“Isn’t that right, Ian? The kid causes some trouble, but still, it’s not right to send him elsewhere, is it? He has a good heart. He’s just stupid.”
No matter what, I couldn’t hand Berik over. The Mages who had just been drawing lines, saying their rice bowls were different, now cautiously watched my expression and defended Berik. Through the gap between them, Berik poked his face out.
“Yeah! Ian! I’ll eat just a little from now on!”
“How little?”
“…I guess I’ll have to see when the time comes. Anyway, I don’t want to go! Just try selling me off. I’ll really bite you.”
Efdiram gave me a look as if to say I had to choose. Just as I was about to open my mouth to say something.
Tap tap tap!
“Over here, Ian!”
The Servant who had gone to deliver a message to Prince Noah came rushing back urgently.
“An urgent letter has arrived from Bariel. It was sent directly by Prince Gin himself. He says you must receive it personally, 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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