Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 463

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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 463
Fire. The World Rutherford Dominates
Tick.
A single second that felt like an eternity.
Rutherford suddenly noticed that Ian’s golden eyes resembled those of a lion. When exactly had those delicate irises, which once held the warmth of amber, transformed into the gaze of a beast?
Tick.
A second that flowed even more slowly than the first. Light leaked through the gaps between Ian’s fingers, gripping so tightly that the fabric seemed ready to tear—a vow never to let go. The presence of this power was fundamentally different from the mana created by multiple mages.
Yes. This is precisely why I chose Ian.
Boom!
“Ruther—!”
An explosion erupted in response to the mages’ cries.
There was no escape. The flow of mana was as natural as their very existence here. Had it not been for the light seeping through the gaps in his fingers, he would have been struck without even realizing it.
Rutherford’s alert subordinates reflexively deployed protective barriers, while several had no time for such measures and simply thrust their arms forward instead—to separate Ian and Rutherford, and to protect their master by willingly offering their own limbs.
Slash!
Ian’s attack severed four arms before grazing past Rutherford’s cheek and hair. Their gazes locked as they hung suspended in the air. Within the slowly flowing time, blood erupted like a fountain.
Ian intent on slaughtering them all, the mages determined to protect their master, and Rutherford entranced by those unfamiliar golden eyes—all three were bound together by blood.
“Argh!”
“Ugh!”
The slowly flowing time shattered with the mages’ screams. Unidentifiable body fragments scattered across the ground, and the mages collapsed, clutching their exposed shoulders.
Meanwhile, Rutherford simply wiped the blood from his cheek slowly. Ian did the same. As for the groaning mages, they were of no concern—he merely breathed deliberately.
Standing itself seemed difficult, yet what captured attention more was the murderous gleam in Ian’s eyes.
Go ahead. Tell me.
Is this written in the god you serve’s plan?
His expression demanded to know whether Rutherford had anticipated this from the moment he gave a flowerpot to the illegitimate Ian, from when they formed that mysterious contract magic.
“…Ian.”
Rutherford laughed while continuously wiping away the dripping blood. Self-deprecatingly, as if in disbelief.
“Who are you?”
He had sensed something was amiss. The Ian he’d met after so long seemed like someone who had never known how to kneel.
But wasn’t that simply human nature? Worthless creatures who forget even yesterday’s events and repeat the same mistakes. Overlooking this had been his fatal error.
“Where did my Ian go? Some strange fellow has taken his place.”
Then Ian laughed as well. Though covered in blood and sweat, one thing was unmistakably clear—his laughter carried a meaning entirely different from Rutherford’s.
“You’re saying you didn’t expect this of me. So the god you serve must be incomplete?”
Rutherford placed a cigarette holder between his lips. Though he couldn’t understand what was happening, the contract magic remained valid, so there was no doubt that this was ‘Ian’. His plan to secure and take him remained unchanged. This time, he would make him not merely kneel but prostrate himself completely—just as Rutherford was about to speak with this resolve.
Swish.
Ian pressed a dagger against his own throat. It wasn’t only Rutherford who was startled by this sudden action. The mages watching from the side also cried out in shock at this turn of events.
“Good heavens, Lord Ian!”
“What are you doing? Stop!”
Despite everyone’s pleas, Ian’s dagger slowly carved into the side of his neck. The imperial palace mages covered their eyes, unable to bear the sight, but Rutherford simply watched. His expression was utterly ambiguous—neither stopping him nor allowing himself to remain passive.
“Rutherford. Try to make me kneel once more.”
“Rutherford. Try to make me kneel again.”
“….”
“The fact that the contract magic remained valid even with me inhabiting the bastard Ian’s body means it’s a contract bound through the flesh itself. I’m uncertain whether a rotting corpse will be of any use to you.”
As Ian spoke, the blade beside his moving throat glistened with blood—a demonstration that this was no mere threat for intimidation.
‘The bastard Ian?’
‘Inhabiting his body?’
‘A contract bound through the flesh?’
The imperial mages were too busy cramming incomprehensible information into their minds, while Rutherford advanced slowly toward Ian, his gaze never leaving the dagger.
Indeed, as he said—a rotting corpse held no meaning for him, did it? After investing nearly ten years to reach this point, he couldn’t afford to fall for such a trivial provocation and ruin everything.
“…So you admit it. Then, who are you?”
“More important than your admission is the fact that you understood at all.”
Rutherford’s footsteps halted.
“Linking personality changes to changes in self is a difficult matter. There are those in the North who practice necromancy, but they merely work miracles through the dead—a different case from mine.”
But you, Rutherford—how could you so swiftly deduce that someone else inhabited the bastard Ian’s body? Even the bastard Ian’s mother, Philia, and Melania, with whom I interacted in childhood, failed to notice so easily.
“Is it understanding born from experience?”
Ian smiled thinly.
“-Bandor.”
“Silence!”
Rutherford spoke sharply, displaying genuine emotion for the first time. At that, his subordinates in the exhibition hall threw the doors wide open, wondering if something had befallen him. Akorelra too crawled along the floor, her eyes busy taking in the situation outside.
“Bandor, ‘once’ a mage of the great empire Bariel. After descending to investigate the cracks, he vanished from history, yet occasionally reappeared in records—claiming to be the mage Bandor, only to eventually be dismissed as the ravings of a madman and left isolated.”
“Did you not hear me say silence?”
Crash!
“Don’t you dare lay a hand on Count Ian!”
“Stand down, you fool!”
As Rutherford approached in agitation, the imperial mages rushed forward in alarm.
But that was all. Ian poured cold water on the moment with a single statement.
“There is nothing to fear. Rutherford is one who has died countless times already. Through that, he has lost the power of magic.”
“What?”
“It means the world that he governs exists only as Ian’s world.”
The bastard Ian’s world. The contract magic itself must have been established under Ian’s initiative as a mana user.
Though it was strange to hear a minister refer to himself in the third person, the mages understood well enough and observed Rutherford. Something clearly displeased him greatly. His jaw clenched tight with no sign of loosening.
“It’s something I heard when King Damon’s tongue was carved.”
“…You speak of King Damon?”
“Yes. As an answer to whether Rutherford ‘was’ a mage.”
“Ha—then why do they follow him at all?”
“Magic and alchemy are separate. There must be different interests beneath. Given how often he mentions divine will, there’s surely something undisclosed in that direction as well. Wouldn’t you say, Bandor?”
Purpose. Nothing was more important than understanding the essence of a matter. One could comprehend an opponent, and through comprehension came the ability to use them; to use meant to dominate.
Rutherford stepped back and laughed.
“For all your boasting, you know nothing in the end.”
Being revealed as Bandor posed no problem. Some of his subordinates already knew, and if anything, it had strengthened their cohesion.
What troubled him now was seeing the lowborn Ian’s shell brazenly resist. Whatever dwelt within, he would burn that soul to ash without mercy.
“Yes. But from now on, you will come to know something of utmost importance….”
Zing. Zing.
“…Through your answer.”
As I closed and opened my eyes, my green eyes transformed back into gold once more.
One who threw himself through the fissure. One who returned to life in some form. One who claims there exists an abyss beneath the fissure.
“Rutherford! Fall back!”
The mages with intact limbs surrounded Rutherford and formed a protective barrier. The subordinates inside the exhibition hall, now aware of the gravity of the situation, rushed forward to join them.
Akorelra quickly gestured to the imperial palace mages.
“Here! The exit is inside here!”
“Captain Akorelra, your leg!”
“Shut it and get over here now! You bastards. We’re all screwed, seriously. Damn it!”
Boom! Bang!
Each time I swung my arm, spheres of light burst forth from all directions. Glittering dust descended, and I moved through it with ease.
When Rutherford attempted to activate a contract spell to stop me, his dagger severed his own left arm.
For now it is an arm, but should he attempt such tricks again, next time it will be his neck. I do not fear death. If I can wring the truth from you.
Crash!
Should I escape the imperial palace with the treasures of the exhibition hall, Damon, the Burgos delegation, and myself? Or….
“Count Ian! I shall handle the left flank! Keep your eyes forward!”
“Yes. I will join you!”
“I don’t yet understand what’s happening, but let’s push through these and talk slowly! Even if you’re not Count Ian, that’s fine! What matters is that you stand with us!”
“Mama-yeon is eternal!”
…Or should I subdue and capture Rutherford and his faction to draw closer to the truth.
Zing! Zing!
As I charged forward grinding my teeth, the mages moved alongside me. In their wake, golden afterimages lingered. Traces of gold eyes that shone brighter and more beautifully than Idgal’s amber light.
As the mages all leaped forward, Rutherford reflexively activated a contract spell.
“What could you possibly accomplish with that body!”
Boom!
A pain that wrings the heart. The world twists again. As if all gravity itself pulls me downward.
But—
“That too, you shall tell me.”
Boom!
It is different from when I was caught off guard. I contorted my face and concentrated all my will.
‘Just a little more, just a little more….’
Boom! Bang!
Crash!
‘Just a little more….’
One who became Emperor at a boy’s age, yet was erased before reaching adulthood. History will surely regard his traces as insignificant. Bariel would not even remember me. I cannot even speak my own name in its entirety, so in a sense, it was only natural.
Yet, despite all this, one truth remains unchanged.
The single truth that governs my world.
Everything I am exists for Bariel.
There exists only one being who could serve as my master, kneel willingly before me, and surrender everything without a shred of shame—and that is Bariel.
Crack!
Rutherford’s mages and Ian’s assault collided in mid-air. An otherworldly force that brought both searing heat and biting cold simultaneously.
“Rutherford!”
“Damn it! Is the painting ready yet?”
The Mage Artists spun back and forth frantically, their feet shuffling in place. Damn, damn, damn!
“Stare at it for a thousand days, ten thousand days. You fools. As if that will bring the painting back.”
“Shut your mouth!”
Thud!
The mage kicked Captain Akorella in the abdomen and shouted.
“Clark! Get things under control up front!”
Clark, always as calm and composed as still, deep water, stood mesmerized—watching Ian and Rutherford as though entranced. A mage shoved his back, yet he remained unmoved.
“Clark!”
“Count Ian… why is he…?”
It was Count Ian, who had helped both Lady Lien and me in Merelrof. I recognized him instantly. Though circumstances forced me to leave Bariel, wasn’t it all thanks to Count Ian’s arrangements that Lady Lien could establish herself as the master of Merelrof?
“Clark!”
Boom!
Melania felt the same way. The ever-composed Ian throwing himself into battle with such desperation was unfamiliar, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder, lost in the swirling tide of mana.
“…Cough!”
The strange silence and peace didn’t last long. Ian, who had resisted Rutherford’s dominion to the end, finally coughed up a mouthful of blood.

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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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