Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 532

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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 531
Fire. White Night
Boom!
“Hasara!”
At Berik’s shout, the Astanans turned their heads in unison. Whose child was this to call their king’s name so disrespectfully? If he were from the Bariel royal family, it would be understandable, but otherwise, it was unforgivable.
As the attendants and guards moved to protest, Hasara raised a hand lightly to stop them.
“It is well. He is an old friend of mine.”
“But, Your Highness.”
“Berik.”
“Hasara!”
Blank-faced. Even with their eyes meeting, Berik stood motionless, bellowing only Hasara’s name. It was clear he didn’t recognize him because the shell had changed. As Hasara slowly rose and approached, Berik narrowed his eyes and scanned him from head to toe.
“…What is this?”
“It is I, Berik. You remain as loud as ever.”
“Hasara? You?”
“How disrespectful! This is the King of Astana whom we serve! Who are you and which department of the palace do you belong to? I shall lodge a formal protest!”
As those standing beside him chimed in as well, Berik’s expression twisted oddly.
“No, you’ve aged way too much in ten years, haven’t you? I saw Ian stayed the same. I should follow his example.”
“I thought you would say as much. This is a newly acquired body.”
“Acquired? Where did you—”
“My uncle’s.”
“…So you acquired it quite well. For an old man, you’ve maintained yourself nicely. Right.”
At the mention of his uncle, Berik hesitated and changed the subject. At his reaction, Hasara burst into hearty laughter and gestured for him to sit on the sofa across from him. Though the attendants were displeased, they politely withdrew to make space.
“But what is that? It does not seem to be a gift.”
“That’s what I wanted to ask. The Magic Department was keeping this. I found it lying on the floor here.”
As Berik dangled the doll with his fingertips, the servant who had greeted the mage earlier started in alarm and reported. It had been placed carefully on the table, so how it ended up on the floor was a mystery.
“Your Highness. This is a doll the Magic Department requested us to investigate for curses.”
“Ah, this one. Yes. Katimako!”
At Hasara’s call, a baby boy toddled out slowly. Could he be seven years old? At the unexpected appearance of the child, Berik stared at Hasara in disbelief.
“What? A child this young is handling curse investigation requests?”
“How rude. Does your superior know of such conduct?”
“Huh? What? Did you just say that?”
“Yes. I said it.”
The voice coming from that tiny mouth was not a child’s. It was the raspy voice of a man who had seen both sweet and bitter things and survived rolling through them.
Hasara chuckled and picked up his teacup. Since he had no need for sustenance, he merely savored the aroma before setting it down again.
“Katimako shows exceptional skill in the doll magic division. Berik, you can trust him. And here, you are the youngest.”
“Really, this country operates exactly as it looks.”
“Appearances are merely what is seen, after all.”
“And later you’ll probably move into another young body again.”
“I cannot say for certain. To minimize the side effects of necromancy, a blood relative’s body is preferable, but I cannot guarantee another blood relative will die at the right time to match the corpse’s decomposition period.”
“…So what happens then?”
Berik tossed a pastry from the table into his mouth and asked. Hasha smiled broadly—deep wrinkles gathering all at once like an ancient tree stirring to life.
“Perhaps death shall be granted to me as well.”
Having already lost his original body, he existed on the boundary between life and death. Hasha spoke of it as though it were a blessing, while Berik silently brushed away the crumbs clinging to his lips.
Moments later, Katimako retrieved the doll and drew a small blade, slicing open its belly without hesitation.
Poof!
“Listen to the Magic Department folks losing their minds. They couldn’t do a thing for fear of damaging it.”
Berik muttered with satisfaction, and Katimako replied gravely.
“That is precisely why they discovered nothing. Sacrifice alone is the price of all things.”
“…The way you talk, you really are a grandfather, aren’t you? Seems I’m the youngest one here.”
The boy parted the cotton stuffing with his small fingers, then frowned as though he’d found something. In his hand lay what appeared to be a withered twig.
“What is this?”
“A dried fairy.”
“Huh?”
A fairy? This? Berik rubbed his eyes and examined it closely. Now that he looked, it did seem to bear facial features and the form of a human.
“This is quite an important matter. It would be best to explain it directly to the Minister of Magic, Your Highness.”
“Mm. Yes. Our audience will come soon enough. I shall relay this myself and arrange a proper setting. The sun will be setting before long.”
Hasha didn’t voice his thought that this fellow Berik didn’t seem likely to relay it properly, but he understood nonetheless and nodded.
Regardless, Berik continued turning over the cotton stuffing, sniffing about to see if there was anything else.
* * *
The grand banquet hall brimmed with elegant melodies.
Elaborately adorned nobles entered first, champagne flutes in hand. They appeared to be leisurely enjoying the feast, but in truth, their minds were preoccupied with gauging the political situation.
They took in the faces of the arriving envoys from various nations, placed public gossip on their tongues, and busied themselves eavesdropping on rumors that drifted without substance.
“Oh, hello. What a lovely day this is.”
“Princess Chloe Davion, it’s been so long. Have you been well? You’ve grown even more beautiful in our time apart.”
“Thank you, Count.”
“Oh, look—the foreign envoys are arriving. Are they from Clipoford? They all seem to have pleasant expressions, just as I’d heard.”
“Indeed. I had imagined something different, given the rumors of the beastkin curse, but it’s quite different.”
Each time King Clipoford laughed, his round cheeks rose prominently. Rather than a king of a nation, he resembled a kindly baker. His children following behind him appeared far more dignified.
“I hear support for Clipoford’s homeland remains considerable? Despite the royal family being afflicted with the beastkin curse?”
“The history runs deep, and the relationship with the people has always been strong. There was initial confusion, but the fractures… well, without them, the nation would splinter entirely. There’s no helping it.”
“I see. Indeed, with the capital in ruins, further chaos would only tighten their noose. By the way, I heard rumors that Ruswena isn’t attending today’s gathering. Is that true?”
“It’s absurd, and frankly, quite shameful. How little regard they have for the Bariel Empire.”
“Quite so. When the Prince assumes the throne, he must lead the nation well and ensure countries like Ruswena don’t grow presumptuous.”
“He’ll do well. With Ian Hielo at his side, how could he not?”
Chloe also kept one ear open while cautiously sipping her champagne, though her gaze continually drifted to those around her rather than her conversation partner. The nobles quickly grasped the meaning of her wandering attention.
“Marquis Hollin has arrived as well.”
The nobles who had gathered around Chloe subtly glanced at the wound on her lips, then casually mentioned Hollin as though they hadn’t noticed. Rumors of the two prominent young ladies clashing had already spread throughout high society.
“Ah, if I caused you any discomfort, I apologize, Princess Chloe.”
“Not at all. Of course Marquis Hollin should be here. Given the occasion, I’m not sure what discomfort you’re referring to.”
Chloe smiled thinly as she laid down the challenge—if they dared speak openly, let them try. The nobles merely offered exaggerated laughter and waved their fans. Did they think she couldn’t do it if asked?
“Yes, that’s right. You shouldn’t have any inconveniences. Then, might I ask if we could have champagne brought for Princess Kaila?”
Look at that? Chloe’s lips hardened with suppressed laughter. Another noble, sensing the tension, quickly interjected to mediate.
“Princess Kaila won’t be attending the banquet.”
“Oh my, why not?”
“There’s a rumor she’s going to Burgos ahead of time.”
“Ahead of time? Whatever for?”
“Why, didn’t the Prince tell you? Which woman he desires as Empress candidate.”
“Ah. My goodness, how remarkable. In every way.”
Wasn’t the outline becoming clear by now? The shocking rumor that the Hollin Family had Burgosian bloodline had originated from none other than Princess Chloe Davion herself.
Yet without any obstruction or rebuttal, she openly declared her participation—one could discern Prince Gin’s intentions. Chloe maintained her smile and threw out a remark.
“I’m going too. It’s war, after all.”
“Pardon? You, my lady?”
“Of course. As a member of the Empire, wouldn’t it be an honorable position? Naturally, I must add my support and be of service.”
Among the nobles, bewilderment and absurdity mixed with an expression of utter disdain.
King Clipoford, seated in his designated place, observed them all and immediately sensed that the banquet hall’s atmosphere had become tense.
“Has something happened?”
“It seems there’s been much activity among the nobles lately.”
“Is that so? What sort of activity?”
“There—Astana and Hawan are entering. Father.”
Noah whispered that there was no time to explain, and the King reflexively rose to greet them. After exchanging formal pleasantries, three leaders faced one another.
Three pairs of eyes laden with profound meaning. Particularly, the representative from Hawan’s gaze held keen interest. For Shatima—that is, from Hawan’s perspective—she had just directly witnessed that Clipoford and Astana would stand with Bariel in the coming war.
In other words, this meant that all of Gaia except these three nations would draw their blades against Bariel.
“Hawan has sent their Prime Minister, I see.”
“Yes, as the King finds himself unable to undertake such a distant journey.”
“My, I do hope there is nothing amiss. Now that I think of it, Hawan isn’t such a distant land, yet we’ve had almost no exchange.”
“Yes. The geographical distance has been considerable. We can only lament Ruswena, the Great Desert, and Bariel’s eastern mountains.”
To King Clipoford’s courteous greeting, Shatima responded appropriately and bowed her head.
“In truth, we’ve had little exchange not only with Clipoford, but with Bariel as well. A small border territory called Merelrof was all of Bariel to us. Thus, being invited to the imperial palace like this is an honor for the first time.”
What occasion would bring foreign leaders to the imperial palace? Only coronation ceremonies like today’s, held whenever a generation changes, or perhaps coming to draft surrender agreements after defeat.
At this, King Clipoford smiled subtly and waved his hand, while Shatima looked around and asked.
“Yet the banquet hall’s atmosphere seems more solemn and refined than I expected.”
Is it always like this?
This was the coronation banquet of the Emperor of Bariel, the great empire at the center of Gaia—no other nation. Compared to its reputation, honestly, everything seemed rather ordinary.
The grand banquet hall, the orchestra, the nobles, and alcohol. The mages’ portals were certainly useful for transportation, but was that all there was?
King Clipoford and Hasha, having grasped the hidden meaning, exchanged glances and merely smiled.
“Now it begins. Do enjoy yourself.”
As King Clipoford’s gesture aligned with the cue, the music swelled louder. It was the signal that Prince Gin would soon make his entrance.
Shatima took her seat and moistened her lips with wine, surveying the banquet hall with an expressionless gaze. Mages were indeed positioned throughout, but still. They made no particular impression.
Whoooosh—
Screeeech.
“Presenting His Highness the Prince!”
The grand ballroom doors swung open to reveal Jin Berosion in full regalia. With each step he took, the space around him brightened in rhythm with his stride—and Shatima’s eyes widened as she watched. The ballroom’s lights were being extinguished one by one.
“My goodness, what is this?”
“Outside…”
They assumed it was merely light seeping in from beyond. Though the night was complete, the white and azure luminescence carried the precise temperature of dawn. As if condensing every moment of daybreak into a single display, the sky’s color transformed rapidly.
Zing! Zing!
Whoooosh—
And everywhere, mages with golden eyes.
Several nobles, bewildered, thrust their heads through the windows—and immediately understood. This was no mere illusion cast upon the glass. The world itself, the very sky, was changing.
“This is…”
White night.
Brilliance descended upon the entire world and held. The clock hands pointed to night, yet in Bariel where Jin ascended, darkness did not exist. This was the manifestation of Bariel’s power that would persist throughout the festival.
Jin crossed the ballroom where only gentle melodies flowed and ascended the dais, raising his goblet.
“This is the hour of Bariel opening a new era. Behold the sun that never sets—is there darkness in this place?”
Following Jin’s toast, the conductor swept his hands in a grand arc, and a powerful melody that stirred the hearts of all erupted forth. The beginning of a brilliant history.

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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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