Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 413

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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 413
Fire. Answer the Question
Clop, clop, clop!
The Messenger swayed fluidly with the horse’s movements. My hands had grown lighter, but my shoulders had grown correspondingly heavier. There was simply more news to deliver.
Yet the Messenger felt as light as if I might take flight. Though I hadn’t slept a wink, to deliver Bariel’s victory report directly to the Prince with my own hands—this was truly a great honor.
The horse too bore the marks of Clippoford’s careful attention. At this pace, I would arrive far sooner than anticipated.
I would also add word to Jin that Ian and the Mages were safe, I thought reflexively, pulling the reins with a shake.
But then, in the distance, I spotted an army column.
“Whoa, whoa.”
There was only one road. It connected to other nations like Burgos and Ruswena, but it served as the primary trade route between Bariel and Clippoford. Therefore, this could not possibly be the enemy.
Besides, hadn’t Count Ian done exactly that? He’d captured the King of Burgos. In war, the existence of a leader was no different from the very crux of victory and defeat.
I raised the telescope and slowly adjusted the focus.
“Hmm?”
The flags of those leading the column seemed familiar. And behind them, the imperial standard of Bariel fluttered.
Were reinforcements arriving? I pulled out an identical Bariel imperial standard from my breast and waved it, urging my horse toward them. I could see the vanguard of the column slowly reducing speed as they noticed my presence.
“Hail there!”
“Who goes?”
“I have a question. Are you reinforcements coming from Bariel?”
Sereo sniffled and glanced back. Mercenaries scraped together from every coin, whether they had it or not. Though they wore the same armor, it was natural that foreigners were mixed in, and above all, they lacked the dignity befitting the imperial palace’s regular forces.
As Sereo scratched his head awkwardly, a sound came from the carriage behind.
It was Alena, dressed in remarkably light clothing. Her hair was tied back firmly, and she wore a shirt and trousers—a lady whose appearance would surely be the talk of high society for years to come.
But Alena paid no mind. After all, through this critical juncture, it would lead to either her and her house’s survival or exile to Ruswena—one or the other.
“Who are you, blocking the path of Bariel’s reinforcements? Are you a Messenger?”
The Messenger grasped the dagger at my waist with suspicious eyes. Should things go awry, I would sever my own lifeline.
“Honestly, I’m tired of this. Why do you take everything so seriously? I was merely asking. We are the children of House Sereo. With the imperial court’s permission, we’re heading down to contribute to the war happening in Clippoford.”
“Ah, House Sereo.”
Upon hearing the name Sereo, I recognized the banner. The Messenger’s shoulders relaxed with a relieved breath.
“Were you sent down from the imperial palace?”
“Well, that is…”
“As a noble, how could I simply stand idle during war? Is permission necessary for offering aid? And you still haven’t introduced yourself. This is truly something that warrants scrutiny.”
As Sereo hesitated, Alena swiftly seized the conversation.
In truth, there had been no direct order from Prince Jin to mobilize. However, as she said, when a noble personally conscripted private soldiers and funds, there was no grounds to stop them.
Perhaps the Prince didn’t even know they’d left the capital. It was possible the matter had been reported and processed through the Imperial Defense Ministry or the Prime Minister’s office.
“I am a Messenger from the imperial palace. I greatly respect your desire to aid us, but it seems such assistance won’t be necessary.”
“What? Why? I’ve even heard rumors of conscription.”
“Bariel has achieved victory.”
“What did you say?”
Alena leaped from the carriage with a startled expression. The horses grew excited and raised their heads, but Alena showed no sign of fear or panic.
Bariel won? How did it happen so quickly?
“King Damon of Burgos has been captured. It seems everyone, including Minister of Magic Ian, is now engaged in cleanup efforts. I must say it’s impressive, but wow, it was truly magnificent. Though everyone sustained injuries, none appeared seriously wounded. How on earth did they manage to seize King Damon from the very heart of the enemy forces?”
“R-Ruswena? What about Ruswena?”
“Ruswena? Hmm. They’d be one of the cleanup targets, I suppose.”
“Tell me more details! Brother!”
“Ah, yes. Listen here. Dismount from your horse for a moment.”
“Uh, okay….”
Sereo grabbed the Messenger’s arm and pulled him down.
The Messenger, caught off guard, felt somewhat overwhelmed by the rough treatment. He found himself face to face with two bright-eyed nobles, and he took a step back hesitantly, raising his hand in a placating gesture.
Yes, this was the taste of victory! Who wouldn’t be like this after delivering news of triumph in war? The Messenger added with a smile.
“It seems the priority is to deal with the northern tribes mobilized by Burgos and Ruswena. However, since King Damon—the linchpin—has been captured, barring any complications, we shall conquer them outright. This is Bariel’s glory and Your Highness’s victory! Hahahaha!”
“Hahahaha! Indeed! Would you care for some water? I can feel the heat even here.”
“Since you urged me to deliver the victory report with haste, I left the barrier without even a sip of water.”
Alena laughed along with the Messenger while her mind raced. Urged to deliver the report with haste? That phrasing suggested there hadn’t been an overwhelming display of military force in the battle….
‘Only King Damon was captured, and the forces of Burgos and Ruswena remain intact? If that’s the case, the King of Eriponi will have much to consider. And the more troubled the King becomes, the more opportunities arise for me.’
“Excuse me, my lady?”
Alena held the water flask firmly, refusing to let it go. The confused Messenger tilted his head, but Alena simply stared at him in silence.
Sereo, watching from the side, snatched the flask from his sister’s grip.
“Here you are. My sister has quite the grip.”
“Ah, thank you.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Pardon?”
“We have staked everything our house possesses to come this far. Bariel’s victory brings us joy beyond measure, but on the other hand, we regret that we have no opportunity to demonstrate our loyalty to His Highness. Has Bariel and Clippoford truly achieved such a complete victory that our presence wasn’t necessary?”
“Hmm….”
The Messenger scratched his chin and trailed off. How unfortunate to encounter such people now. He couldn’t very well tell someone who’d wagered everything to turn back, and if he did, what if there weren’t enough hands for the cleanup afterward?
What he was conveying was precisely ‘the end of battle due to King Damon of Burgos’s capture’—not ‘the destruction of Burgos’ or ‘the end of war.’
The Messenger handed back the flask and subtly tried to make his exit.
“I have nothing more to tell you. If you’re truly concerned, it wouldn’t be amiss to go see for yourselves. It’s not far from here.”
“Should we continue straight ahead this way? What about other camps?”
“Ah, at the fork in the road, do not go right. As I was leaving the barrier, I saw Ruswena had set up camp there. Had I gone that way, I would have had to turn back.”
The Messenger said his piece and mounted his horse again, passing them by.
Sereo watched his retreating figure with dismay. Soon he clutched his head, alternating his gaze between Alena and the departing Messenger.
“Alena!”
In that cry lay all the reproach and anguish—what should we do now, why did you have to step forward when everyone was content, how we’ve ended up bankrupt because of you.
But Alena merely pressed her fingers to her temples and frowned.
“Be quiet, Brother.”
“You always say that! Always!”
“Don’t you see what position the King of Ruswena is in now? He’s left hanging in the middle. He joined forces with Burgos, suffered trade sanctions from Bariel, and participated in this war—only for everything to come to nothing with King Damon’s capture. Perhaps that’s for the best. Haven’t we all learned through history what responsibilities a defeated nation must bear?”
An opportunity. An opportunity.
The King of Eriponi would need Alena’s assistance far more than before. A small thorn hidden beneath the name of Bariel. There was nothing better to place upon this balloon called Bariel, swollen and about to take flight.
Alena tapped her brother’s shoulder and returned to the carriage. The soldiers and mercenaries watched with half-turned heads, wondering what was happening.
“Everyone, let us quicken our pace! When we reach the fork, I shall go right. Brother, you proceed straight ahead and enter within the Clippoford barrier.”
“You’re going alone? Toward Ruswena?”
“The King of Eriponi seems to prefer meeting me over his brother anyway. Never mind that—let’s go. Did you hear what the messenger said earlier? There seems to be some problem with the Ministry of Magic, and we can’t afford to miss this. Move!”
Alena clapped her hands to urge the coachmen forward, and Sereo quickly adjusted his helmet once more. As they passed through the forest, it seemed the sun would set soon.
Just as the messenger had said, the fork in the road appeared before long, and Alena entrusted herself to one carriage, choosing the right path. She leaned her body out the window and gave her brother firm instructions.
“Brother! First, go there and do nothing. Focus only on entering the city and wait. Whether it’s a message or the chaos of war.”
Tap, tap, tap!
After giving these instructions, Alena closed the carriage window and leaned back against the hard sofa.
Not all blades need to have sharp edges, do they? It’s enough to pierce the opponent and take their breath away.
Alena realized a sword was now gripped in her hand and exhaled sharply. From now on, she too would become part of this war.
* * *
“Ian! Ian!”
“You’ll hurt yourself if you rush! Ian!”
“Damn it, what are you doing! Why aren’t you escorting him slowly?”
“Ian! Why are you suddenly like this? This isn’t even the dining hall!”
Ian, who rarely hurried his steps, was moving with labored breathing. Of course, given his poor physical condition, this was only natural.
Berik and the Mages, who had been waiting below, were startled and rushed after him, soon arriving at the makeshift prison where King Damon was held.
“Hah, hah….”
I held a stack of documents in my hand as I caught my breath. A bead of sweat trickled down my hair. Then I turned my head slightly and signaled everyone with my eyes to step back.
Whoosh.
Something felt wrong. The Mages remained at the threshold of the underground prison, simply watching me.
“Open it.”
Click!
The Clippoford Soldier saluted and seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then, trusting the Mages, drew out the key. As the metal made an unpleasant rattling sound, I rushed inside.
King Damon, stripped of his armor and dressed in battlefield clothes. After confirming through a body search that there were no particular issues, shackles were fastened around his wrists and ankles.
Though he was a king of a nation, he was ultimately a prisoner of war. There was no more effective propaganda than displaying the depth of his fall, so this treatment was only natural.
“Damon. From now on, answer me directly about what I ask.”
“….”
A glint of defiance flashed in his untamed violet eyes. He avoided answering and lowered his head, his hair falling forward to cover half his face.
“You’ve met directly with the head of the Rutherford Company, haven’t you?”
“….”
“What did you obtain by paying them treasure?”
“….”
“It wasn’t enough to give them gold and silver—why did you send your half-blood relative? Did Rutherford demand it? How did they learn you had a relative? The King and Queen are dead, and this is something to be hushed up even within Burgos.”
“….”
“Does Rutherford also know about your life? Then how could you entrust such secrets to a Gypsy?”
“Seems like you have a lot of questions. But what can I do? I don’t feel like answering. Just because you ask doesn’t mean I have an obligation to speak.”
As Damon chuckled and shook his head side to side, I roughly grabbed his hair and slammed it against the wall.
Thud!
“I said answer me directly.”

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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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