Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 474

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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 474
Fire. A Conversation with the Divine
The Divine existed everywhere.
In the single cloud you see in the sky and an elder’s smile, in the ant being crushed beneath a foot, in someone’s anguished cry, even in the blood of war itself.
The Divine existed everywhere, yet that alone could not guide the world rightly. To push a single cloud across the sky, it had to become wind; to wear an elder’s smile, it had to become a child’s smile; to be the dying ant, it had to become someone’s footstep.
Because you exist, I am—yet as the Divine became all things, it lost itself.
Thus, the Divine resolved not to become all things, but rather to become the small fragments capable of orchestrating everything.
That was you, existing without your own knowledge, living with will and intention. The good and evil you possess interlock harmoniously, flowing naturally, making the world right.
The existence of the bastard Ian was no different from this.
“Ian Verosion.”
The child embraced Ian Verosion and whispered. The warmth and gentleness of that breath nearly brought tears to the Emperor’s eyes without his realizing it.
“If you call me Divine, then I shall be Divine, and if you call me merely a small child of the borderlands, then I shall be that small child. What matters is that regardless of what I am, your existence is meaningful and natural. This does not change. You are the Emperor of Bariel, inheritor of my will.”
I had believed myself destined to be erased from history. Though I ascended to the throne, I thought I would fade without leaving any trace of my footsteps. Yet standing in this world through the voice of the Divine, everything felt solid.
Ian shed a single tear without realizing it and asked.
“Truly, if my existence is meaningful, then whatever decision I make and whatever I do will benefit Bariel? Under the Divine’s will, within that line you deem right?”
“Of course.”
“Then what is right?”
“What is natural.”
“…If I feel I am crumbling, may I resent you and set down my burden?”
“Resent, but hope.”
The child tapped Ian Verosion’s cheek with a soft sound. It was the gaze of a parent looking upon their child. Where had I seen that before? Ah, it was no different from the love Philia had shown me.
Ian Verosion reverently cradled the child’s hand and pressed a kiss to that palm. The form was growing increasingly translucent. The Divine was leaving me. Ian Verosion hurried to ask.
“Rutherford claims himself to be one who harmonizes with the Divine. Is he also your will?”
“Ah.”
The child laughed with one eyebrow furrowed. The expression seemed perplexed yet somehow deeply amused. To grasp its meaning precisely, Ian Verosion gazed at the child without wavering.
“No. It is not my will, but it is natural nonetheless.”
“I cannot comprehend.”
“Just as you have a shadow, so do I. The shadow cannot harm me, but it always lingers at my feet, existing. Pitiful things that mistake themselves for what I could become.”
Ian suddenly recalled Arcen from the mana verification ceremony. The demon’s shadow completely erased by the light of divine revelation. Being shadows that normally persisted, they lost their form entirely before that sacred light.
“It is natural yet unjust—a contradiction I acted upon as the bastard Ian, and in that process, I heard Naum’s prayer. Thus, we met like this.”
A soft sound.
The child, now nearly transparent, drew Ian Verosion into an embrace and whispered.
“However heavy the contract with Rutherford may be, do not worry. In the abyss, your flesh has died countless times over. Yet your soul remains noble, that of an Emperor, unchanged.”
Was it all illusion?
Like space itself twisted, the sea of the abyss where body, soul, and even the concept of death were hopelessly intermingled.
If so, then the body bound by contract with Rutherford had died and vanished, meaning I was no longer shackled by that constraint. I did not know what exact contract had passed between the bastard Ian and Rutherford.
‘It matters little now.’
What was meaningful was that Idgal’s birth and everything binding the bastard Ian were the Divine’s will. And that this had ultimately reached Ian Verosion.
Above all, should I face Rutherford again, I could learn the truth directly, and for Ian Verosion, that was no difficult task.
A soft whisper.
The child vanished in brilliant light. Following the faint shimmer that scattered, I turned my head, and a scene far too familiar unfolded before me.
“Ian. Please, please try to regain your senses.”
It was that day—the day I gained life through Naum’s death. The Underground Prison of that day. Naum scraped at rusted chains until blood ran, shaking what appeared to be Ian Verosion.
I am here, yet what are you grasping? Please, find your strength, the voice urging me to go to the Ministry of Magic’s annex, saying that God never posed unanswerable questions—it was no different from the memory itself.
Ian Verosion approached slowly and looked down at Naum. Despite drawing near, Naum showed no awareness of my presence. As if buried in the moment of death.
‘Ah.’
Ian could only retreat after gazing into Naum’s eyes. Eyes trapped in despair, yet utterly free of resentment. Had I been too exhausted and weary that day to perceive this?
Behind Naum, who smiled faintly, Chroni burst through.
“Ah! Naum!”
Be careful, it is a death already witnessed, yet even once I wish to save you from that place, Ian Verosion cried out, stretching his hand. Only then did Naum seem to sense a presence, startling and looking forward.
Their eyes met. Across time, beyond dimensions, the two who met again clearly recognized each other.
Whoooosh!
Yet like waves that do not cease, the flames consuming Naum did not stop either. His hands burned, and soon, as if in agony, he collapsed forward and screamed.
“Naum!”
“Ahhhhhhh!”
I will save you from here. So that you suffer no longer in the death of eternity, I shall save you thus. As Ian moved to throw himself forward, Naum ceased his screams and looked up at him.
“…I am relieved to see you whole, Your Majesty.”
He was grateful that his prayer had been answered, marveling that they met in reality rather than illusion. And above all, he was relieved to confirm that his sacrifice had not been in vain.
Ian stopped, unable to fully extend his hand.
God said that which is natural is righteous. That Naum, who used forbidden magic, exists here is also natural, thus righteous. Moreover, he said my choice was your will.
Yet why does a stone suddenly lodge in a corner of my heart? Is it because I recall the Gypsy’s warning that extracting Naum is the same as extracting the abyss from outside Gaia?
If the abyss flows outward, what becomes of Bariel?
“Your Majesty.”
Naum could not grasp Ian Verosion’s hand, instead crawling forward on his belly and prostrating himself beneath him. Flames rose around him, his flesh split of its own accord, and blood began to flow profusely. Though agonized, Naum endured with serene composure, as if accustomed to it, and spoke.
“Preserve the name Ian Verosion. Our time has stopped here, so history too has stopped. It was never written, so it shall not be erased. Your Majesty. Preserve it.”
Ian Verosion knelt and placed his hand upon the back of Naum’s. It was not hot at all. It was a punishment burning in my stead, a torment permitted only to Naum.
“…As time passes, you shall be born anew. Then I shall meet you again, and this time I will not fail. I shall preserve the faith of all who followed me. I swear it, I stake everything and swear to accomplish it.”
“Yes. Even if it is not I as I am now, that one too shall be Naum and thus your friend.”
“No. You will be.”
Return, and if I guide the world rightly as God desires, our day shall continue again, and your existence too must be affirmed and persist, so surely you can escape from here. I believe thus. So you must believe as well.
As Ian Verosion spoke firmly, Naum laughed brightly.
“Your Majesty. You have grown stronger.”
“I have continued living thanks to you.”
“I see. Ah, how fortunate. I can now accept even the deaths to come gladly.”
Whoosh.
Naum too was disappearing like a child. One death ending, returning for the next. Naum bid farewell, gripping Ian’s hand firmly.
“Then I shall wait.”
“Yes.”
“…Please, be well.”
I wished to tell him not to suffer too greatly, but Ian swallowed the words. He knew it could not be otherwise.
Naum transformed into ash and sank beneath the abyssal sea. Drifting and drifting, he would repeat that day endlessly.
Crack.
I clenched my palm, now devoid of warmth.
Within an hour, I would escape this place, sever and cut away everything that shook the history of Bariel, and advance along the righteous path that God desired. Thus, I would open anew that era in which Ian Verosion and Naum Obia lived.
Whoooosh.
Each time Ian Verosion swam upward, his appearance transformed. His long platinum hair became radiant gold, and his sky-blue eyes shifted to a fresh green.
From Emperor to that small child of the Borderlands.
“Oh my!”
The Gypsy, who had descended to investigate the commotion, spotted me approaching and hastily retreated upward in panic.
Yet perhaps it was the sin of eavesdropping on the conversation between God and Emperor—her belly swelled as though it would burst at any moment, its grotesque form plainly visible even beneath the loose cloth. Burdened by her heavy body, the Gypsy struggled and thrashed, unable to gain speed.
“Your habits are worse than I thought. Stealing what was never given to you.”
“Ah, that is—”
“Did it taste good?”
I seized the Gypsy’s shoulder and pulled her close against me, and she laughed with only her gills quivering. Her expression seemed to say, ‘What’s the point in explaining, hehe.’
“You will leave this place.”
Zzzzzing! Zing!
I activated my mana and grasped the Gypsy by the nape of her neck.
This was not Gaia, but the abyssal sea. Even if the Gypsy’s belly were to split, there was no fear of the world falling into chaos. Everything would be submerged beneath these depths anyway.
“Whether you leave together with me or sink together with me—the choice is yours. Isn’t it only right to pay what one has received?”
“…I can only guide the path. The escape itself falls solely upon you.”
“Good. And before that, there is something I wish to know.”
The Gypsy gazed at my eyes, which gleamed with golden light, and recalled the jewel God had bestowed. The eyes of a predator—possessed only by beasts.
“Just as you found me, you can also find those who fell here together, yes? Rutherford. And his cohorts.”
If I could escape, then they could as well. Especially Rutherford, who had entered the abyss for the second time. He may have already succeeded in escaping through his prior experience.
The Gypsy merely sighed and nodded, then swam forward with powerful movements of her lower body, as if urging me to hold on tight. Though her belly was so swollen that her speed was somewhat diminished.

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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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