Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 429

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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 429
Fire. Individual Reactions
“Berik.”
“Yes?”
Romandro sensed an unusual atmosphere emanating from within and tugged at Berik’s arm.
Berik, who had been mindlessly fiddling with his belly, turned his ear toward Romandro.
“What is it? Are you hungry?”
“No, you fool. Is food all that occupies that head of yours? Can’t you see what’s happening in the imperial palace?”
“I just arrived. I’ve been rolling around on the battlefield, and I only just got back.”
“Go to the residence at once and meet with Lady Philia. Tell her that questions are being raised about Ian’s origins in the palace. Since he’s not alone, it would be far better for her to know. But tell her not to hide hastily. If there’s anything she wishes to say now, have her inform only me through a written note.”
“Me? There are plenty of guards lounging around here.”
Smack!
“Ow!”
“You idiot, for such a critical matter, it must be someone trustworthy! What if Lady Philia’s message leaks?”
“Ah, a trustworthy person. Me?”
“…Your sense of direction is lacking, but if I provide a carriage, that’s all that’s needed.”
Berik, who had received a flick to the head from Romandro, grinned widely and wiggled his eyebrows. Even amid the annoyance, he hadn’t missed that compliment for a moment.
Romandro glanced around repeatedly as he led Berik out of the Magic Ministry. After signaling the waiting coachman to bring a private carriage, Berik continued to circle around Romandro with a cheerful smile.
“Am I trustworthy? You certainly know how to judge people. I’m relieved I haven’t been eating the kingdom’s bread for nothing.”
“You’re the one eating the kingdom’s bread for nothing, Berik.”
“What are you talking about! The war left several holes in my belly!”
“Berik. Before I met Ian in Bratz, you two already had a connection, didn’t you? Was there anything strange?”
“What do you mean?”
Romandro watched a carriage approach as he pressed Berik for answers.
Romandro had observed Ian from nearly the lowest point of his existence as a bastard. Wasn’t he the boy carrying Cheonrye on his back in the territory devastated by the clash between the Central Army and Count Derga’s forces?
Whenever rumors about his origins circulated in the palace, Romandro could dismiss them with an incredulous laugh. He was one of the few who had seen the “bastard Ian” before “Ian Hielo”—he knew the Ian who rolled about on the frontier, not the Ian who held the position of Minister and consolidated power in the imperial palace.
Yet, now that he thought about it, there were certainly strange things.
‘When he first came to the capital, the way he used administrative terminology like that of the commercial district, and the old imperial court etiquette—no matter how clever, there were countless things even I, a bureaucrat, didn’t know that he seemed to know.’
Over the past half year, there had been far too many instances to count on his fingers. At the time, Romandro had passed over them without much question, but amid these suspicions being raised repeatedly, he couldn’t simply overlook them.
“He was always like that. Why are people making a fuss about it now?”
“Really?”
“He knows a lot of things, acts all superior sometimes. And he does whatever he wants. Occasionally he’s annoying, but he pays well.”
“…Go. Give Ian my regards to Lady Philia. Don’t eat while you’re there. Viviana will give birth soon—she absolutely cannot move. Mini is busy caring for Viviana, so don’t disturb them!”
“What? You send me on an errand without food? Isn’t this a violation of imperial palace labor law?”
“Where did you pick that up? Is there even such a thing as imperial palace labor law?”
“Caught. Never mind then.”
Tap-tap-tap!
Berik bolted down the stairs and squeezed himself into the carriage. Soon he pressed his forehead against the window and waved in greeting. Romandro waved his hand dismissively, telling him to go carefully, and shortly after heard the carriage door close loudly behind him.
Bang!
“My goodness.”
What was happening? Romandro turned around without thinking, and soon discovered Jin pushing open the middle gate with his own hands. His eyes and cheeks were flushed red with anger that had risen to the crown of his head.
Seeing the Prince angry for the first time, Romandro instinctively hid his body behind a pillar. It was a survival skill he had naturally acquired while working in the administrative branch. When a superior looked displeased, it was best to remain as inconspicuous as possible.
“Your Highness. Please walk slowly.”
“How despicable. Count Ian is truly despicable.”
“How so, Your Highness?”
Xiaoxi also seemed unable to guess why Jin was angry, following behind with a bewildered expression. The boy bit his lips hard and glared toward the quiet office.
“Count Ian is not the only one thinking of Bariel.”
“Your Highness?”
“Let us go. I shall remain in my chambers until the grand conference.”
“Yes, I shall attend you.”
Xiaoxi quickly moved ahead and arranged for the carriage, ensuring the Prince’s pace did not slow.
As the Prince’s carriage left the Magic Ministry, dozens of servants followed behind. Romandro peeked his head out from behind the pillar and clicked his tongue.
‘What on earth did Ian say to upset him so? Whatever it was, it seems highly likely that Ian was at fault. Ah, our Prince. His heart must be greatly wounded.’
Romandro thought he should have a word with Ian, and at that very moment, he turned his body.
Ian was seen crossing the corridor with his outer robe hastily draped on, carrying a couple of document folders in his hands. Without a moment’s hesitation, Ian entered the basement where Damon was being interrogated, and soon all the mages, including Akorelra, poured out.
“Hey, why are you all coming out?”
“Ah, Romandro. Ian ordered all those belonging to the Magic Ministry to leave.”
“What? But the Imperial scribes are still inside?”
“Yes. He only ordered us to leave.”
Wasn’t that usually the opposite?
It would be sensible to keep those from one’s own ministry nearby and send out those from other departments. Yet Ian had specifically ordered only those belonging to the Magic Ministry to leave.
The scribes belonged to the Imperial household anyway, so Ian would have no authority over them regardless.
“By the way, Romandro, did you hear anything?”
“Hear what?”
A couple of mages crowded around Romandro and whispered subtly. The others pretended not to hear, but he could feel their ears perking up as they concentrated on the conversation.
When Romandro gestured for them to back away, the mage smiled slightly and asked.
“Why not. You know, about Ian’s origins.”
“Ian’s origins are formerly Bratz, currently Hielo. There is nothing more to add beyond this. And do you all believe the words of someone who was once the enemy commander? You supposedly intelligent people, yet you lack such discernment. How can I entrust work to you!?”
“My goodness, my ears are ringing. Why are you suddenly so irritable?”
“Calm down, calm down. Easy now. Romandro, let us breathe and speak.”
“All this whispering is pointless. Romandro, lower your voice a bit, yes? The Imperial staff may pass by and hear.”
Romandro deliberately raised his voice to distract the mages, lest they harbor any misguided thoughts.
“You all know, don’t you? Is Count Ian the sort to harbor dark intentions? From the rebellion onward, he has remained steadfast in protecting the Imperial Palace. Really, what nonsense!”
“Ah, right. We are not interested in that anyway.”
“That’s true. Honestly, even if Ian were of Imperial origin, we would only be slightly surprised. We do not disbelieve it. It is quite… how should I say.”
“He seems like an Imperial person.”
“Exactly, that is it. Dignified and elegant. He probably did not even cry when he was born.”
“The problem is Idgal. Romandro, when you were in Bratz, did you ever see Idgal? That is what we are curious about.”
That remark Damon had subtly let slip. It had left the mages with considerable doubt. From Damon’s tone, it seemed Ian was closely connected to the existence of Idgal. Yet they could not determine whether this was true or not.
And indeed, Ian had often displayed a firm stance within the Magic Ministry regarding the eradication of Idgal.
When Akorelra and the other mages submitted their investigation and analysis of Idgal, he treated it as though he were seeing the materials for the first time. No matter how meticulous I was, I would never have reacted in such a manner.
“Idgal?”
“Yes. A beautiful amber-colored jewel.”
“….”
Romandro clamped his mouth shut. Why wouldn’t there be one? Of course there was! The amber-colored jewel that Lady Lien had given him—he’d brought it from Bratz. And it had been handed over to the Magic Division, where it was revealed to be the same substance that Prince Marib had used in the rebellion.
Several mages who had been uninformed about the details sparkled with curiosity and pestered with questions, while Akorelra, Romandro, and the mages from related departments awkwardly averted their gazes.
“If Count Ian really created Idgal—”
At the mage’s murmur, Romandro squeezed his eyes shut.
A creator of a substance that constrains mages. This was nothing less than a betrayal of mages, and moreover, it could become a grave matter threatening Bariel.
Indeed, all incidents connected to Idgal had been threats to Bariel’s safety—the rebellion of the princes, the collapse of Cliffford south of Bariel, and so on.
“Is he insane?”
“Huh?”
“Isn’t he? He’s truly mad. I knew he was a genius, but this isn’t just genius-level anymore.”
“You, are you Akorelra’s subordinate?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“The way you speak gives it away.”
“…Honestly, I don’t quite understand it myself. Genius or whatever, why would a mage create something like that?”
“It’s from way before he joined the Magic Division, back when Count Ian was just a child, right? Then even if you don’t understand, you should pretend to. What would a child have known? We’re fortunate he came to the imperial palace and got his bearings straight.”
“Hey, you madmen, get your heads on straight. This isn’t something that should be easily overlooked just because it’s Count Ian. Conversely, how would you feel if Philic had created Idgal?”
“That bastard would deserve death. How could he endanger his own kind?!”
“Exactly. Ah, you’re all bewitched by Count Ian. It’s a crime worthy of collective execution by all mages.”
“Watch your tongue. This is Count Ian we’re talking about.”
It seemed opinions were divided among the mages themselves. They exchanged what amounted to arguments disguised as discussions, trying to gauge whether I was truly connected to Idgal.
Akorelra, sitting in the corner with her eyes closed, merely chewing on a cigarette. She was thinking about how to navigate this crisis.
“Ah, but where is that useless blockhead Heil doing right now?!”
Crash! Bang!
Boom!
The moment Heil’s absence was realized, a tremendous sound erupted from the basement.
The mages all flinched simultaneously, lowering their upper bodies. Soon, as smoke billowed up, they crowded around the staircase leading downward.
“Count Ian, are you alright?”
“What’s happened?”
“How about someone goes down to check?”
“But Count Ian said entry was forbidden.”
“That’s why someone needs to volunteer and go down!”
Their gazes all turned toward Romandro simultaneously.
“…Me, me?”
“You’re the steward!”
“No, that is—ahhhhh!”
Thud! Boom!
Before Romandro could even refuse, pushed by the mages’ hands, he descended to the lower level. As he slowly grasped the door handle and turned it, smoke filled the corridor so densely he could barely see.
Tap.
“I-Ian?”
As my vision gradually cleared, the full expanse of the underground chamber came into view.
The scribes were startled, half-covering their faces with papers, while I stood gripping the unconscious Damon by the hair. My lips were smeared with crimson blood—anyone who didn’t know better would have thought I’d torn out his tongue entirely.
* * *
“Ding-dong! Dong! Ding-dong! Open the door! Mini!”
Meanwhile, Berik arrived at Romandro’s residence.
He was making doorbell sounds with his own mouth as he shouted, and he saw Philia first instead of Mini. Joy, concern, and surprise were all written across her face as she opened the door.
“Berik!”
“Oh, hello there.”
“Goodness, how wonderful to see you again! I heard you’d returned from the battlefield! Are you hurt anywhere? Ian—is he safe?”
Philia suddenly pulled Berik into an embrace. He clenched his fist triumphantly as he shouted reassuringly.
“Of course! We crushed every enemy head and returned without a scratch!”
“Good, good. You’ve worked hard. But what brings you here? Did Romandro leave some documents behind?”
“No, it’s not that—”
Berik furrowed his brow as he gazed into Philia’s green eyes, which were identical to Ian’s. Truly, no matter how many times he looked, they were spitting images of each other.
“There’s been some trouble at the imperial palace, you see? Ian is your biological son, right? Could it be that you’re connected to the royal family somehow, Lady Philia? Like, perhaps Ian’s father turned out not to be Count Derga after all? Something like that?”
“…What?”
His words were innocent yet remarkably rude and utterly unfiltered.
Philia’s eyes widened in bewilderment, and she rolled her eyes trying to comprehend what Berik was suggesting.

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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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