Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 418
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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 418
Fire. Negotiations
The King despaired.
Watching his kingdom fracture, I felt my heart splinter alongside it, and the cries of my people threatened to deafen me. A king becomes a symbol merely by existing.
Here I stand, helpless, while my own son faces the battlefield. I cannot rebuild a single fallen wall, cannot gather the scattered rubble of destruction.
For the first time in my life, I experienced true powerlessness—a helplessness that eclipsed even fear. If the ancient kings of Clipoford were watching me now, what expression would grace their faces?
As the King sank into contemplation, May seized his robes with audacious urgency and cried out.
“Your Majesty! You cannot remain here!”
The tremors had reached the palace itself. The continuous vibrations suggested far greater earthquakes would soon engulf them. The guards surrounded the King as they evacuated toward the palace’s largest garden.
But the King’s gaze fixed upon the castle gate ahead. Fearing the doors might warp and seal shut, soldiers held them half-open.
“Your Majesty!”
Tap-tap-tap!
The King bolted through the gap. His portly frame prevented swift movement, yet his attendants could not restrain him—they understood what weighed upon his mind. Instead, they summoned horses and followed in his wake.
“Your Majesty! Please ride a horse!”
“This way! The western road! Allow us to guide you!”
“The rest of you—protect the Princes and Princesses!”
“Evacuate to the garden! Guard them without a single scratch!”
The trembling earth made the horse’s hooves unstable. Yet the King maintained his grip on the reins and soon spotted a familiar face—Ian’s red-haired attendant, a foreign warrior who had devoured every morsel in the palace kitchens.
“Berik?”
“Huh? Why are you here? You should be in the palace.”
The King quickly assessed Efdiram, who stood in opposition to Berik. Regardless of the circumstances, if she opposed Berik, she opposed Ian—and thus opposed Clipoford itself.
As the King’s guards stepped forward, gripping their swords, Efdiram raised an eyebrow with apparent indifference.
“What? Want to try?”
“You are no Clipoford citizen—reveal your identity!”
“Old man, that curly-haired girl is insane.”
“Maybe I’ll test you instead.”
Zing! Zing!
Whoosh!
As Berik interjected and pointed at Efdiram, she lunged forward with her blade raised to sever his hand.
The attack crackled with magical power. Heat surged from countless cracks in the earth, and molten sparks scattered like embers on the wind.
The King shielded his face with both hands and cried out.
“Stop! Stop this at once!”
The guards obeyed the King’s command, but the two ruffians ignored him entirely, their clashes growing increasingly vicious and deadly.
As the fight prolonged, Berik appeared to be pushed backward, yet his strength remained undeniably matched.
“Your Majesty. Does it not seem that the earth trembles more violently each time that woman swings her blade?”
The knight spoke truly. With each swing of Efdiram’s sword, something within the cracks responded, rippling as if in resonance.
The King drew closer to the two combatants and cried out again—less a command than a desperate plea.
“Enough! I beg you, stop!”
Boom!
Crash!
At that moment, something sharp grazed past Efdiram’s cheek, drawing blood and leaving an unmistakable mark.
Efdiram rubbed it with her palm and turned her head toward where the attack had come from. It was Captain Heil. He stood with one eye closed as if aiming at a target.
“What, you’re backstabbing people now?”
“It’s not a backstab—it’s a warning to keep quiet. If I’d meant to hit you, I would’ve put a hole through your skull, not your cheek.”
“Words won’t do anything to me. I’m already quiet, see? It’s this guy and that old man who are making a fuss.”
“How, how insolent! You wretch!”
“H-how insolent! You w-wretch!”
Efdiram giggled and mimicked the indignant knight’s words. Was this what they called mirror therapy? Berik stared at her with a look of genuine shock, as if she were truly mad.
Heil descended slowly from the sky and bowed his head to the King.
“Your Majesty. You’ve surely heard the news of King Damon’s capture.”
“Yes. Thanks to Count Ian’s efforts, Clipoford has finally caught its breath. But what exactly is this? Is this the rift you mentioned before? Yet the Magic Ministry said they would limit the power as much as possible, so how could this…”
“I understand Your Majesty has many concerns and questions. Count Ian has instructed me to convey that he wishes Your Majesty to take shelter behind the barrier. Ruswena and that madwoman’s subordinates, along with Burgos’s forces, remain in a standoff, so we cannot easily withdraw from this position.”
If those holding the front lines fell back, a gap would open. That would be an opportunity. It wasn’t the complete annihilation of Burgos’s forces—merely King Damon’s life hanging by a thread.
The King, immediately grasping Ian’s concerns, nodded.
“Go. As the King of Clipoford, I can no longer remain confined to the palace. It’s best we discuss the rift together.”
“Yes! Go! I’ll stay here and see if there’s anything to eat!”
The moment Efdiram said this, Berik swung his sword again. She reflexively twisted her body, and the blade narrowly passed by her side.
Efdiram, startled, looked at Berik, and he responded by raising his middle finger.
“I told you. Stay put until Ian gives permission.”
“You bastard, trying to get yourself killed…”
“You should watch your back too, you know?”
“Let’s see, let’s see—!”
“Don’t you dare look!”
Clang! Clang!
As the two clashed again, sparks flying, the King looked to Heil as if seeking help. Heil cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted.
“Efdiram! If you don’t come, Count Ian said all your subordinates at the barrier will be executed. Don’t cause trouble and risk bloodshed—it’s better to resolve this through conversation. And regarding that secret you wanted, there’s room to consider it, he said. So go and listen well. Berik! You’re in charge of Efdiram. If you lose her, there’s no meat for you!”
“No meat? Ah, seriously!”
A masterful blend of whip and carrot. The whip of executing her subordinates if she caused trouble, and the carrot of satisfying her curiosity.
Efdiram slowly released the pressure from her sword locked with Berik’s and sighed. The rift was blazing right ahead, and here she was.
“You got lucky.”
“Lucky? Please. Clearly if we’d gone all the way, I would’ve won. Is this what they call a psychological victory?”
“Blockhead, you don’t even know that word. Get lost. I need to see my master.”
“Come with me! Didn’t you just hear? I’m your dedicated escort!”
“Ugh, whatever. Get lost!”
“Let’s go together!”
Swoosh!
They swung their swords as if ready to devour each other, yet their departing figures were no different from friends.
Heil carefully descended and offered his hand to the King.
“Your Majesty. The tremors continue, so perhaps the other advisors should travel by horse, while Your Majesty proceeds with me? I can escort you to the barrier more safely and swiftly.”
“Yes, let’s do that. May!”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Ensure everything here is properly cleaned up, and send the Minister and the others to the barrier.”
“Yes, I shall obey your command.”
“Be careful.”
The King tapped May on the shoulder, then clasped Heil’s hand. Even as he did, the Dusts creeping from the cracks continued their endless cycle of birth and death.
May sighed as she trampled the remnants of the demon debris. Clipoford was beginning to crumble.
* * *
“Ian. Captain Akorella has sent a report.”
I turned my head at the sound of my name. The cold sweat had subsided, and my body, which had hung limp, now regained its center of gravity.
I gestured for them to enter, and soon Captain Akorella followed the Mage through the doorway with purposeful strides. Her opening words were quite direct.
“Ian. It’s gone to hell.”
“Ugh.”
The Mage covered his mouth and rolled his eyes, but Captain Akorella remained undeterred. There truly was no other way to describe the current situation.
“A fissure has opened. I contacted the research team from Clipoford’s side, and they said the aftershocks are gradually intensifying. At this rate, we should expect another major earthquake within two to four days. But the problem is that the earth has already split open, and the magical power inside is now visible.”
I slowly flipped through the documents Captain Akorella handed me. It was more efficient to focus on the experts’ opinions rather than detailed figures and processes.
Captain Akorella pulled up a chair and spoke.
“If that happens, there’s a considerable possibility—almost certainty—that demons with form and consciousness will emerge. Dusts have already started appearing. That level is manageable for ordinary people, so we’re still fine for now, but if another earthquake strikes, everyone dies. Well, everyone in Clipoford, that is.”
Inside the barrier, in the western region near the royal palace. If demons flooded from there, what would become of the kingdom was obvious without even looking. Clipoford could vanish from history entirely.
I swallowed a sigh. It wasn’t intentional, but it felt as though the bastard Ian’s contact with the pendant had triggered the breaking point.
Otherwise, where had my continuously drained magical power gone? Even if the bastard Ian had drawn it out beforehand, I couldn’t definitively say there was no influence in the process of its eruption and progression.
“First, I think we should evacuate the capital—Prodona, that is. The problem is us. The war is essentially over, and we have no justification to remain here. You were planning to leave early tomorrow anyway, Ian.”
Bariel had done what it could. No, it had done more than that. I would return to Bariel with Damon and receive the Crown Prince’s authority. Minister Tweller and Captain Jairot would do the same.
“Go.”
Captain Akorella moved first, lest I suggest taking charge of the earthquake cleanup as well. A few Mages would remain anyway—her sharp gaze told me to step back and rest. Very firmly.
I chuckled and nodded.
“There is no change to my schedule. I shall depart this place immediately tomorrow, and the relief of earthquake and demon damage is not my responsibility but the will of Prince Jin. How could I act privately without the Prince’s command?”
Relief efforts were clearly a matter that would unfold at the national level. I distinguished precisely between what Jin should do and what I should do, and I had no intention of overstepping those boundaries.
But before leaving, couldn’t I offer one last opportunity? To shed less blood, for the sake of a tilting page of history, to wipe away the tears of those who harbored such wishes.
“But why are you gathering the kids?”
“Akorella, that’s usually called a conference.”
“Am I Berik? Not to know that? What I’m asking is why you’re gathering the King of Ruswena, the Northern Leader, and the King of Clipoford all in one place.”
*Click.*
I fidgeted with the papers between my fingertips and murmured.
“Have you ever heard such a saying?”
“Which one?”
“The easiest way is to resolve things with money. Next is violence. And the most difficult is through persuasion and conversion.”
Captain Akorella tilted her head curiously. So right now, you’re suggesting we try to find solutions through peaceful dialogue?
I smiled slightly and handed her the report.
“I intend to attempt it. Even if it fails, there’s no need for regret. It was a difficult task from the start.”
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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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