Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 533

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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 532
Fire. The Fairy’s Corpse
Shatima’s gaze caught on the edge of the sky.
Everything she had believed in was being denied. Even those closest to the divine were ultimately human, yet they moved the laws of nature according to their will. It was astonishing, terrifying, and wondrous all at once.
King Clipoford glanced at Shatima and extended his wine glass, a gesture inviting her to clink glasses.
“Prime Minister Shatima. Will you join me in a drink?”
Angular cheekbones, a firm mouth, and countless colorful dots painted to conceal his gaze and the light in his eyes. At first glance, his complexion seemed unchanged, but King Clipoford could perceive it. Shatima was now drowning in admiration.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“How I wish the King of Hawanguk could have witnessed this spectacle. What a pity. Is this the extent of emotion that human language can convey?”
Can you fathom the limits of the Mages? Can you likewise gauge Bariel’s future? The light that never fades, the darkness that inevitably retreats. That sky before you now is everything of Bariel that you seek to confront.
King Clipoford spoke with gentle subtlety, and Shatima grasped his intention without difficulty. He was persuading her. Hawanguk’s path forward lay not with Burgos or other nations, but here, in Bariel.
“Oh, look over here. The breeze is light and refreshing. It’s like the dawn air.”
“It’s beautiful. It’s like watching sunset and sunrise simultaneously. Can you see the clouds drifting? There, look!”
“My, you’re right. My goodness.”
“It’s magnificent, truly magnificent!”
The vista of the wide-open balcony gave those witnessing it certainty. The miracle they were experiencing now was not fantasy but reality.
Rustle.
Then came thin streams of light falling like drizzle. People could not help but marvel at the splendor adorning every corner like an enormous chandelier.
As the orchestra’s music changed and the imperial dancers took the stage, the formal banquet commenced. The nobles clasped hands with those of like mind and swayed together, while the clear sound of clinking wine glasses rang out from all directions.
Shatima was about to take another sip while savoring the breeze.
“Pardon me.”
Ian’s voice reached her. Impeccably dressed in formal uniform, he offered a Bariel-style bow. His fresh green eyes were nowhere to be found; only sharp golden eyes like a lion’s existed.
He appeared slightly more tense than when she had seen him in the Magic Department’s rear garden, likely due to maintaining four portals while guiding the white night alongside the Mages.
Even to the eyes of an ordinary mortal, he was accomplishing something utterly impossible.
“The King of Astana will first have an audience with Prince Gin. Next will be King Clipoford, and after that, the Prime Minister of Hawanguk.”
“Oh, I see. Understood.”
“Please follow this Mage.”
“I shall see you shortly.”
Ian returned Hasha’s smile with one of his own. It was extremely faint and disappeared immediately.
“The two of you, please wait a moment. Should you find anything uncomfortable, please feel free to let us know, and I hope you will fully enjoy the empire’s festival.”
“Thank you. And congratulations.”
“I must ask you to offer your congratulations to Prince Gin instead.”
“Are you not also part of this glory? Yes, when is the coronation?”
Though the enthronement ceremony had begun, the moment of the Emperor that would be recorded in history was the coronation. Ian merely clicked his pocket watch as if to say, watch carefully.
“Since the boundary between day and night has vanished, it will be one hundred hours from now.”
“Hahaha! Yes, yes. I understand.”
“Then, I shall take my leave.”
Ian stepped backward and whispered something to the Mages, then disappeared from sight.
About ten minutes passed.
An attendant from Hawanguk approached Shatima and reported that Astana’s audience was nearly concluded, so they wished to inspect the tribute gifts one final time.
“Prime Minister. We’ve transferred everything into the boxes.”
“Have you finished the verification?”
“Yes. No issues.”
“…But where is Erika?”
Erika was nowhere to be seen. At Shatima’s question, the attendant replied awkwardly.
“She said she was stepping out for a moment, but we haven’t heard from her since.”
“…I see.”
Shatima’s jawline grew sharper. I knew she wasn’t foolish, but I couldn’t tolerate such unilateral actions.
She came from the Imperial Investigation Unit, so she wouldn’t have gotten lost. With King Clipoford continuing to watch, I couldn’t afford to say more.
“Well then, it’s our turn next. Noah.”
“Yes, Father.”
“You packed the grapes carefully, right? What if they burst?”
“Don’t worry about that. Just be careful going down the stairs.”
As the Astana delegation withdrew from the platform, King Clipoford’s side sprang into action.
“Where is Count Ian?”
“He’s outside the banquet hall.”
“I have something to convey to the Magic Department. Guide me to him.”
“Yes, this way.”
Hasha sought out Ian immediately upon descending. He needed to share what he’d discovered in the doll as quickly as possible. He weaved through the nobles dancing in chaos and soon exited the grand banquet hall.
Tap tap tap.
Near the grand banquet hall, in the corridor.
Unlike the noisy interior, the corridor was quiet, and Hasha encountered a mage from the Magic Department. When he spoke to him, the mage promptly guided him to the annex on the opposite side of the banquet hall.
“Ian. The King of Astana has requested a brief audience with you.”
“Show him in.”
Creak.
As the door opened, I could immediately see mages with golden eyes sprawled across the sofa. They lacked the strength to rise at Hasha’s arrival, managing only a nod in courtesy.
“What brings you here, King Hasha?”
“…Count Ian. Is everyone alright?”
Unlike the mages who lay unable to support themselves, I sat before a desk reviewing reports. My complexion appeared considerably paler than when seen in the banquet hall, but otherwise seemed fine.
I glanced around at the mages and shrugged my shoulders.
“Well. It would be a lie to say everyone is fine—it’s more accurate to say we’re managing. I’d like to observe proper courtesy, but as you can see, circumstances don’t permit it. My apologies.”
“Nonsense! Between us! I too walked the battlefield alongside mages as a colleague. Speak freely.”
“No. We’re in the midst of an official ceremony. Many eyes and ears are upon us, so I must maintain propriety. Is this perhaps about the doll you commissioned earlier?”
“Indeed. Katimako.”
At Hasha’s call, Katimako stepped forward and placed the doll and dried fairy on the table. The mages shuffled and rolled about, vacating their sofa seats.
To Katimako, who bore the appearance of a boy, I extended my hand for a handshake without particular hesitation. This was thanks to Berik having already barked out an explanation earlier.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Katimako.”
“I’m Ian Hielo, Minister of Magic.”
“To state the conclusion first, this is indeed a curse-related doll. A doll made from human skin is one of the most traditional methods. Most use some part of the target’s body—typically something easily obtained like hair. However—”
“That’s impossible.”
“Yes. Isn’t he the Crown Prince of the Bariel Empire? If the doll’s silver hair belongs to His Highness, that’s a problem in itself. It means there’s a traitor within the imperial palace, and very close at that.”
“According to our investigation, all materials, including the doll’s skin, are confirmed to be unidentifiable substances.”
“I suspected as much. It’s because of this dried fairy.”
Thud.
Katimako set down the cloth-wrapped fairy corpse before me. The Mages who had stepped back crept forward, craning their necks. It wasn’t every day one saw a fairy’s remains in their lifetime.
“Are you familiar with Laromedia?”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“I’ve only seen one myself a handful of times. They’re primarily known to inhabit the far north and south extremes of Gaia.”
I gestured to Romandro to check the imperial archives for any information related to Laromedia.
Romandro quickly pulled out his notepad and began writing furiously, while Katimako, being considerate of him, continued speaking slowly.
“Laromedia are a species that cultivate flowers and sustain themselves by consuming them. I’m not entirely certain of the exact mechanism, but exposure to these flowers induces hallucinations, and eventually leads to a mental derangement where one believes the illusions to be reality.”
“Hallucinations?”
“Yes. Due to this characteristic, they were frequently used for propaganda in the past. The content of the puppet show seems to be the crucial element. If it were negative and malicious, we could infer that the puppeteer intended to implant that content into an unspecified multitude.”
I paused, and my eyes met Romandro’s simultaneously.
That content—it was something so profane and dangerous that it could scarcely be spoken aloud. After all, they had dared to question Prince Gin’s qualifications.
“Is it effective?”
“Being a dried corpse, its potency is incomparably weaker than when alive. However, like clothes gradually soaking from drizzle, repeated exposure over time would certainly produce an effect.”
I pressed my forehead for a moment. A faction plotting the overthrow of Bariel’s imperial palace had infiltrated the kingdom. Since we hadn’t captured the puppeteer, we couldn’t even determine if they were a citizen or foreigner.
Romandro gnawed on the back of his pen in frustration.
“We should have at least grabbed their pant leg back then and shown them what’s what! Ugh, this is infuriating!”
“Has Laromedia ever been discovered in habitats near Bariel?”
“I’m not certain about that. As I mentioned, I haven’t seen many myself. From what I’ve heard, the most recent sighting was reportedly near Toollun.”
Toollun.
The moment I heard the name, a connection flashed through my mind. Rutherford and Burgos, and the Underworld Deity who desired the downfall of both Toollun and Bariel.
I carefully gathered the fairy corpse and handed it to Romandro. It was an order to preserve it well.
“Understood. First, I thank you for your assistance.”
“Should any additional matters arise, I’ll inform you at once. And please, feel free to inquire anytime.”
“Yes, how was your audience with His Majesty?”
“He received us so warmly that I hardly knew where to place myself.”
“Excellent. Now, do retire to the banquet hall and enjoy the food and drink. We’ll tidy up shortly and return as well.”
Hasha and Katimako looked back at the Mages. They were barely standing, and I wondered what they could possibly accomplish in this state. More importantly—the war?
“Will you participate later?”
“No. We’ll fight alongside you. Everyone is carefully distributing and conserving their magical power. The travel time from the capital to Burgos also provides an opportunity for recovery, which we intend to utilize fully. The Magic Department is also producing recovery potions. Astana need not worry about a thing.”
“As a king, and as your friend, I worry nonetheless.”
“Your concern is appreciated.”
When I smiled slightly, Hasha tapped my shoulder twice—a signal that they would depart first.
As Astana’s guests left the waiting room, the Mages who had been barely standing collapsed, their legs giving way as they tumbled across the floor.
Crash.
“Oh no, I’m really dying here. Could you process this as a workplace injury? Even some financial compensation for treatment would help me recover.”
“Everyone, gather yourselves and come out.”
“Ian, why don’t you go ahead? We’d like to rest a bit longer.”
“Yes, let’s rest a little more! Besides, everyone at the banquet hall is too busy eating and enjoying themselves anyway.”
“It’s time to switch.”
“Ugh, this is driving me crazy. I really don’t understand why break time always feels so short!”
“Idiot, it actually is short.”
Creak.
I stepped out of the waiting room with Romandro and turned toward the banquet hall. Then, in the distance, I saw a figure slowly approaching.
A woman dressed in Hawanguk delegation attire with her face concealed. She seemed to hesitate for a moment upon seeing me, but soon walked naturally toward the banquet hall entrance. Gradually, the distance between us closed.
“Please, go in.”
“….”
I naturally opened the door for her, and the woman gave a slight nod before hurrying inside. Seeing her figure, my brow furrowed.
“Romandro.”
“Hmm?”
“Haven’t we seen that back before?”
“I’m not sure. Why? Does she seem familiar?”
Romandro also scrutinized the woman intently, but couldn’t place her either.
I followed her inside with an inexplicable feeling.

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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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