Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 52

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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 52. Execution
The domain folk gathered in the square murmured amongst themselves, staring at the gallows. Having spent their entire lives on the frontier, they had never witnessed such a grotesque and terrifying instrument of death. Behind them, the Bratz estate on the hill stood serene as always.
“Hanging?”
“Tax evasion is a capital crime, and he resisted too.”
“Good heavens. How did things come to this…”
“Wait, so he collected taxes from us but never reported them to the capital? Where did all that money go?”
“Into his belly, judging by how bloated he is.”
“The bastard! We sold our homes to pay taxes. My daughter’s back is bent from working the fields since she learned to walk!”
“Boy, lower your voice. Do you want trouble?”
“What does it matter now! He’s no nobleman anymore, just a criminal. He’ll die anyway, so let him die with some dignity! Why did the soldiers even intervene?”
“Exactly. If we’d known about this, we wouldn’t have sent our children to the estate…”
“If the Count had just not done this in the first place, everything would’ve been fine. We’re the only ones who suffered. They took our money, and the battle destroyed our homes…”
To them, hanging was a dishonorable death. As a nobleman, especially as a lord who had stood against barbarians on the frontier, he should have ended his life by the sword.
Particularly to dangle and thrash about before his inferiors. Hanging was a punishment that killed dignity along with the body.
“But the Cheonrye Tribe is building the gallows?”
“Who else would move logs that size?”
Ironically, it was not the Varielians but the neighboring barbarians who were preparing the execution platform for Count Derga. Of course, they were following the investigators’ instructions since they had never built a gallows before, but somehow the atmosphere didn’t feel like that of those being commanded.
“Ah, speak it all at once. Don’t make me go twice.”
“S-sorry. Once we set the posts in the ground and bind them tightly with rope, it should work.”
On the elevated platform with a clear view of the gallows, Kakantir watched the domain folk in the square and the skeletal structure of the gallows gradually taking shape, feeling strangely unsettled.
Just months ago, Count Derga had maintained that delicate relationship between ally and enemy. Now his head would hang before his inferiors, and I would watch from a position of height.
‘Life is truly incomprehensible.’
Meanwhile, in the estate, Erika was composing a proclamation while clutching her head. It was important work—explaining Count Derga’s crimes in terms commoners could understand, and announcing the imperial palace’s authority and her own achievements to all.
Click.
Below, I had arrived at the underground dungeon. Count Derga, locked in the cell at the far end, had a gag in his mouth and cloth blocking his vision. His swollen limbs hung limply in shackles. He looked as though he could die at any moment.
“Open the door.”
Clack.
At my command, the Cheonrye guard opened the door without question. Count Derga’s ears perked up as if he recognized my voice. The stench of decay and blood emanated from him.
“Count Derga. It is I, Ian.”
“Mmgh…”
Now I addressed him without even the titles of father and son. As Count Derga flinched in response, the sound of his connected shackles rang out chillingly.
Screeeeak.
“The date of your execution has been set.”
“…!”
“In that short time, you sent a letter to the imperial palace—did you inform Prince Marib?”
Count Derga looked up at me, but the cloth over his eyes prevented me from seeing his expression. Yet I could sense his eyes trembling violently beneath the fabric.
“I have you to thank for that. Because of your letter, Erika failed to receive her appointment as lord. That gave us reason to leave Bratz in haste, and your execution has been moved up as well.”
Count Derga tried to throw a punch with all his remaining strength, but it never reached me.
I felt regret. When I first brought him from the brothel, I should have crippled him somewhere, as Mrs. Mary had advised. What did external appearances matter!
“…Mmph!”
“Mrs. Mary and Chel are dead as well.”
“….”
“Among those bearing the name Bratz, you are the last survivor. Congratulations. You possess a glory few can claim.”
Count Derga’s face flushed crimson. Blood visibly rushed backward through his veins. I held him by the hair and spoke my final words.
“Do not resent your fate so bitterly. Is this not all the karma you have sown?”
A child born from violating a woman of the pleasure district. As if that were not enough, you separated him from his birth mother and subjected him to endless abuse to sell him as a sacrificial offering. Your greed drove you to scheme in secret against the Cheonrye Tribe. Your excessive taxation alienated both the capital and your own domain’s people. And so much more.
From beginning to end, you brought none of this upon yourself—you orchestrated it all.
“Lord Ian. Kakan seeks you.”
“I’m coming.”
I left Count Derga behind, his silent screams echoing in the darkness, and departed the underground prison.
Outside, spears towered in a line, each far exceeding the height of a grown man.
“Ah, Lord Ian. Take a look at this, would you?”
“What is the matter?”
“Do you think the spear lengths are adequate?”
I examined the spears that would pierce Count Derga’s heart. Then I glanced toward the window where Erika stood.
“Since this is the centerpiece of the execution, it would be best to consult with Erika and have it mentioned in the proclamation.”
“Mm. Yes, that’s a good idea.”
Though I had glanced at her without thought, Erika gazed down at us with a haggard expression. When our eyes met, she irritably drew the curtain shut.
Swish!
‘What a damnable situation.’
Erika pressed her head and muttered curses. Not a single letter of explanation had come from Mollin. She certainly knew of the council’s decision, so a messenger should have arrived around the same time.
“Damn that old fool!”
Meeting Mollin directly would resolve most of the problem, but once Count Derga’s execution was complete, she would have to leave the Bratz domain. Neither Ian nor the Cheonrye Tribe would tolerate her remaining even a moment longer. Even if a messenger had departed with the letter, by now he would be only halfway here….
‘This won’t do. I need to devise a countermeasure of my own.’
Erika pondered deeply, then retrieved fresh parchment and began writing a letter. It was both a demand for explanation from Mollin and a message to Prince Marib.
As the saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is my ally. To avoid becoming a dog chasing chickens, redirecting the current toward that side seemed not unreasonable.
Swish.
Erika pressed her thumb against the blade instead of using a seal, marking the letter with her blood. A magical potion could identify her by it.
“Lady Erika. I have found the materials you requested.”
“That Ian fellow has organized everything quite meticulously.”
“It is thorough enough that we could depart immediately.”
“Irritating bastard. Tsk! Leave it there.”
The investigator compiled the crucial evidence of Count Derga’s tax evasion and handed it to Erika, and its contents were meticulously inscribed into the proclamation.
On the day Count Derga died, so that the domain’s people would understand the meaning of his death.
* * *
The day had finally arrived. It was the day after the gallows had been constructed. Everyone in the manor came outside and gathered at the entrance to the underground prison.
“Bring Count Derga out.”
“Yes, Lord Ian.”
At my command, two Cheonrye warriors descended and dragged Count Derga up.
“Count Derga Bratz. The hour of your execution has come.”
Count Derga’s body trembled violently at Erika’s words. Apart from his limbs being freed, his eyes and mouth remained covered just as before. Erika gestured to her subordinates and led him toward the plaza.
“Move quickly.”
“What? You’re dragging your feet?”
He had to demonstrate his contrition by treading barefoot upon Bratz soil. With each shuffling step, the sound of chains clanking echoed. Moving with agonizing slowness, like a beast being dragged to the slaughterhouse, he kept his head bowed low.
“Count Derga Bratz. Move.”
Crack!
“…Ugh!”
The investigator had no choice but to crack the whip, and Count Derga released a groan with each step forward. He was being driven along almost by force.
“That’s the Count of Bratz…”
“Good heavens, what is that sight?”
“With his skin stripped bare, he’s even worse off than us!”
“Die! Die! You sucked our blood, and in the end, our families perished! Because of you!”
“Really? Is that truly Count Derga?”
As he made his way toward the plaza, gasps of astonishment erupted from all directions. The people of the territory were witnessing their lord in a state of degradation they had never imagined. The shock was so profound that nearly identical remarks echoed until he reached the plaza.
Is that really Derga? This was the crux of it all.
“Climb up.”
“Hngh…”
Whoosh! Thud!
“Derga! Was this truly your best?”
“You wretched fool! This is what happens when you don’t do right!”
“Die in agony! Please!”
The moment had arrived when all his accumulated sins would burst forth at once. As Count Derga hesitantly climbed the steps, stones came flying at him.
Some cried out that their wives had been molested by Count Derga, while others lamented that they had been beaten for failing to pay taxes, leaving them crippled. The names of Mrs. Mary and Chel could be heard among the accusations.
“Did they capture Mrs. Mary and Chel?”
“I’m not entirely sure.”
“But if both are alive, doesn’t that mean the family isn’t completely extinguished?”
“There’s a rumor that the remaining investigators will join the pursuit squad after the execution.”
“Is that so? Then the foreigners really are all leaving.”
“The Cheonryeo Tribe remains, but they won’t survive once winter arrives.”
“Ah! Finally, normalcy returns.”
Boooo—
An investigator blew a buffalo horn. The spectators, who had been clamoring noisily, gradually fell silent. Soon, Erika stepped beside Count Derga and raised the proclamation.
“I am Erika Berti, Chief Investigator of the Imperial Palace. I shall now announce, in the name of His Majesty the Emperor, the charges against the criminal Count Derga Bratz.”
And she proceeded to read aloud, in meticulous detail, all the allegations they had investigated against Count Derga and the evidence supporting them.
In truth, the common folk understood scarcely a word of the technical details, yet as the recitation grew longer, their fury at Count Derga’s wrongdoings deepened. And so too did their understanding that these crimes had come at the cost of their own blood and sweat.
“In particular, the Monne coal mines produced 60,000 tons, yet the central report showed only half that amount. The profit differential amounts to precisely 8,000 gold coins—and this represents merely a fraction of the assets concealed over the past several years…”
“What? 8,000 gold coins?”
“I didn’t mishear that, did I?”
Ian, listening from below, could feel the rising fervor spreading through the crowd. The yield amounts and profit percentages meant nothing. For the common people, what mattered was simply the number of gold coins—a figure made crystal clear.
“You wretched bastard! How could you do this?”
“Kill him! Kill him now!”
Stones and refuse rained down from below once more. Erika ignored the debris accumulating at her feet and recited the final sentence.
“By this decree, all those bearing the name Bratz in the Bariel Empire shall know only eternal death. By the Emperor’s command, the House of Bratz is hereby exterminated.”
Crack!
At that very moment, a stone struck Count Derga’s temple with brutal force. Erika gestured to her subordinates with a glance, signaling them to proceed with the execution.
“Remove the blindfold.”

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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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