Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 420

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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 420
Fire. The Lifeline Given to a King
Eriponi clenched his burning palm and glared at Ian.
No matter how vast the empire, for a mere minister to wound the king’s hand—had this been Ruswena, Ian would have been cast aside like a corpse left to rot on the ground.
Yet Ian remained unbothered. He understood better than anyone the weight a defeated nation must bear, and he knew that Ruswena would not perceive his momentary rudeness as anything significant.
“Please be seated, Your Highness.”
Ian pulled out a chair and guided Eriponi back to it.
One step more and he could have walked out, but the king realized he could not. Even the northern reinforcements were feigning ignorance, deliberately overlooking the wound on the king’s hand. Eriponi, unable to resist, settled back onto the edge of the chair.
“There remains much to discuss. We have yet to address the matter of war reparations, have we? Regarding the fissure that has emerged within Clipoford, we must establish clear responsibility. Ruswena cannot be excluded from this. The northern reinforcements will also have no choice but to weigh in on this catastrophe.”
The fissure had finally occurred. With the monsters flooding through as they had long desired, it was cause for celebration among those from the barren north, but for Clipoford and the adjacent Bariel, no greater calamity existed.
“How would one seal a fissure that has already opened? If it were possible, the north would have attempted it long ago. Distributing their forces is the only method—that is why they joined this war.”
As Eriponi gestured in irritation, the northern chieftains shrank back. It felt like walking on thin ice. One misstep here and they would plunge into those distant, frigid waters. All remained silent, waiting only for Ian, Eriponi, and the King of Clipoford to speak.
“While the earth cracks and fissures spread, it may be possible to control their pace. In the meantime, relocating the capital and evacuation would be the final opportunity the divine permits.”
“So how, exactly.”
“Send the Ruswena Mages to Bariel.”
“What?”
Eriponi found himself repeating the words in disbelief.
Yet Ian’s expression remained serene, utterly unchanged, and that very calmness drove Eriponi further into a corner. There was an ease about him, as though everything would unfold according to his will, exactly as he spoke it.
“This is the time for all mages across the continent to pool their efforts in finding a solution. Unlike Ruswena, Bariel possesses an ancient and distinguished magical division with considerable numbers of mages. There is no better environment for research than this. Had Clipoford possessed mages, I would have requested they be sent to Bariel as well, but regrettably, they have been absent for some time. Ruswena’s cooperation is essential.”
“Absolutely not! It is entirely impossible!”
He would sooner cede a piece of land than surrender his mages!
Through this war, Eriponi had experienced firsthand how the presence or absence of mages affected national power. To send even the few he possessed to Bariel would completely upset the balance of strength.
Not to mention that among the support sent from other nations, including Hawanguk, the existence of Ruswena’s mages played a considerable role.
“The mages are not royal property, as I understand it. Frankly, Your Highness’s opinion hardly seems relevant. Where one is born is fate, but where one chooses to live is freedom. They certainly possess the right to choose.”
He wanted to scream at Ian to silence himself, to demand what scheme he was plotting, but the faint remnants of royal dignity barely restrained his fury.
Unlike Bariel, Ruswena had only the weakest of chains binding mages to the palace. They barely managed to secure the mages’ support by holding their families hostage, and exile? He could neither encourage it nor prevent it.
Ian turned his head, leaving the trembling Eriponi behind.
“There should be mages in the north as well.”
Several of the chieftains nodded. While not under their direct command, there were certainly mages who roamed the north like Efdiram.
“Gathering them shall be your duty—you northern reinforcements. With the fissure occurring here, the vital force of the northern lands will be diminished. The restrictions on your activities will have loosened considerably. I trust you will succeed.”
“Ah, yes. Those who deal with monsters—there are many, not just the Atan Clan. We shall seek their assistance.”
“Yes. Seek it. We, however, demand it.”
Ian smiled thinly. Whether they requested or pleaded, that was their concern—he had drawn the line.
“Should the fissure worsen, Ruswena too will not escape its effects. Supporting the gathering of all mages in one place to pool their wisdom is how Your Majesty can erase the traces of defeat as deeply as possible.”
“Now—”
“And cede a portion of Ruswena’s territory. The region adjacent to Bariel would be ideal.”
Swiftly.
Ian marked a section of the map with his pen. What was this now? As Eriponi stared in bewilderment, Ian raised an eyebrow.
“Refugees are expected to emerge from Clipoford. Bariel will, on humanitarian grounds, temporarily open its adjacent borders, and simultaneously receive compensation of equivalent territory from Ruswena. While the Prince will make the final decision, even if all the imperial ministers pool their wisdom, the result will not differ greatly. I merely thought it prudent for you to know in advance—a small courtesy on my part.”
Money, slaves, and territory.
The defeated side in war had always paid this price in three ways. Since Burgos’s king was captured, that matter was irrelevant for now.
“We have safely returned the mage held as a prisoner, and we continue to insist that we participated in this war after being deceived by Burgos. Yet the responsibility we bear is the greatest among all participating nations. This is equivalent to branding us as the war’s instigator. Don’t you think this is excessive? The countless kingdoms of Gaia will focus on this incident, and they will view the Empire’s mercy as nothing but a mirage. If possible, I would have your people drink a truth serum of our making. If we can only claim innocence, then I would—”
“Where is there mercy in war?”
Ian cut off Eriponi’s words decisively. She was claiming innocence while willing to drink some unknown substance that Bariel would provide, but that was a trivial matter.
What mattered was that Bariel had now gained the opportunity to completely break Ruswena’s spirit.
“Did the King of Eriponi shoot arrows overflowing with mercy, pierce soldiers’ hearts, and merely watch as a mage fell into the abyss of hell? Was the King so benevolent that he held the mages’ families hostage in the palace, dragged young boys to the battlefield, and ordered that no mana be shared with the dying mage? How remarkable. So remarkable that I could weep.”
Every word Ian spoke was weighted with suppressed fury.
Eriponi realized she would gain nothing in this tent and fell silent. It occurred to her that it would be better to wait quietly until the meeting ended, return to the palace, and plan for the future—that provoking Ian, who stood on a knife’s edge, would yield no better outcome.
“And should the countless kingdoms of Gaia learn of this incident, it will serve as an excellent reminder of Bariel’s great national power. This is not a matter for Your Highness to worry about.”
As Ian gestured with his eyes, the mages who still possessed mana stepped forward.
“Based on the comprehensive terms discussed earlier, we will establish a simple contract magic. All of you must enter Bariel’s imperial palace within a fortnight and hold talks with Prince Gin. Otherwise, your lives will come to a rather abrupt end.”
Zzzzng. Zzng.
As the mages activated their mana, the northern chieftains nodded as if they had no choice.
The problem was Eriponis. She bit her lip as if she couldn’t possibly accept this, and seeing it, Ian flicked his hand.
“Ah. Your Highness need not do this directly.”
“…?”
“Have Eldetr brought inside. I will make the contract with him.”
Eriponis’s brow furrowed. Why Eldetr and not herself?
Even King Clipoford looked at Ian with confusion, but Ian simply calmed the king with a glance, as if to say: I have my reasons, so comply.
“Eldetr!”
Eriponis had no reason to refuse. Though he was her closest confidant and the second most powerful figure in the palace alongside herself, he was not the king, after all. If she could have his life held as collateral instead of her own—the very embodiment of Ruswena—then anything was acceptable.
At Eriponis’s call, Eldetr rushed in immediately.
“Yes, Your Highness! Is everything alright?”
Eldetr had been uneasy since flames erupted at the tent’s entrance, but the mages had blocked his approach. Seeing Eriponis’s clenched fist, his face hardened, yet the atmosphere inside the tent was far colder than he expected. And above all, there was his liege’s gaze commanding restraint.
One mage extended his hand to Eldetr. Golden eyes gleaming with the evidence of mana flickered.
Zzzzng. Zzng.
“Eldetr, establish a contract magic in place of your king. Everything discussed until now is known to Ruswena’s queen, Her Highness Eriponis, so you need only offer your life. Will you do it?”
The content was irrelevant; it was a question of whether he could sacrifice himself for his liege. Eldetr was startled but did not hesitate. He rolled up his sleeve and grasped the mage’s hand. Immediately, mana surged through the gap between their clasped hands, and a massive concentric circle of contract magic enveloped the surroundings.
Ian leaned against the table and nodded toward Eriponis.
“You have quite a reliable subordinate.”
“….”
Though the mockery was obvious, she could not respond rashly when she couldn’t discern Ian’s true intentions.
Why had he not made the contract magic with her? No matter that she was a queen—given the atmosphere just moments before, if he had continued pressing, she surely could not have escaped.
Unable to shake off the unease, Eriponis watched Eldetr’s contract magic conclude. As the mana subsided, she kicked back her chair and left the tent, while King Clipoford stared blankly at her departing figure.
“She deserves death.”
At the king’s murmur, Prince Noah’s eyes widened slightly. He had never heard his father, before being a king, speak in such harsh tones. Ian, understanding the king’s sentiment, nodded and smiled.
“She is indeed deserving of death. However, there is no need for Your Highness and me to kill her with our own hands. To do so would give justification to the opposition forces remaining in Ruswena and further hinder our efforts to persuade their vested interests and achieve cultural integration.”
Just as Prince Noah was about to ask Ian for more details, commotion erupted outside. It was the voice of Eriponis, who had gone out first.
Prince Noah slowly poked his head out and soon discovered Eriponis berating a soldier.
“How could you handle it so carelessly!”
“I-I’m sorry.”
The news that the Mage had departed for the royal palace without my orders. More precisely, it was that troublemaker Zaira and some others, but still. I pulled at the horse’s reins, muttering in frustration.
“We return to the main camp at once.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Neigh!
Alena.
If we separated, our fate would spiral toward disaster. It was time to grasp even a rotting rope, I thought, spurring my horse forward.

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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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