Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 54

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 54. Philia’s Return to the Land
Crunch, crunch.
With each step I took, dry branches snapped beneath my feet. The insects sang their summer arrival chorus with full vigor. I wiped the sweat from my brow and called out to Berik.
“Berik, are you certain this is the right path?”
“…I think so?”
“You think so? That’s hardly reassuring.”
“No, no, I’m sure. Look, there’s a black stone here. Yes, yes. This is it.”
The forest was so remote that no proper path existed. Unable to ride horses, we’d been walking on foot for hours now. By my reckoning, we’d already crossed beyond the territory’s borders.
Berik’s wound in his side hadn’t fully healed, yet he moved as though completely recovered. Those days of rest disguised as recovery seemed to have done him considerable good.
“You said we needed to hide, didn’t you? Surely no one would find us out here?”
Surrounded by nothing but nature’s hues, a foreign color suddenly caught my eye. Far ahead, draped across a branch—a pale violet skirt. Berik snapped his fingers triumphantly.
“There it is. Perfect!”
Berik cut through the grass with his sword, leading the way. After following the steep ridge for a short distance, we emerged onto flat ground. An old cottage stood before us, with a small cultivated field in front.
“It’s remarkable you discovered such a place.”
“An old woodkeeper lived here alone long ago. He came to sell timber, lost his mind, and forgot the way back, or so the tavern keeper told me. If it’s true, there should be other houses built nearby. Since I had nowhere else to go, this seemed fitting.”
The cottage looked as though it might collapse with the slightest breeze. Yet the warmth emanating from within indicated someone was living here.
“Is anyone home?”
Berik glanced around searching for Philia. A kettle was boiling, so she couldn’t have gone far. I too examined the cottage slowly, checking whether there was any more red herb or Silaskra remaining.
‘There isn’t any.’
The supplies brought from the village didn’t seem substantial. Well, what could she possibly have brought anyway?
“W-who are you?”
Then a trembling voice came from outside the door. I opened it and found myself face to face with a golden-haired, green-eyed woman who looked remarkably like me.
“Oh!”
Philia hadn’t expected this. She dropped the flowers she’d been carrying and embraced me with surprising strength for someone so small and delicate.
“Ian! Ian!”
“…You’ve been well, I hope?”
“Ian! Oh! Thank you! Thank you!”
Philia wept and cradled my face in her hands, tears streaming down as she sobbed uncontrollably. It was a natural reaction—a mother who had lost hope of seeing her son’s future suddenly had him standing before her.
“Ian… how is this possible? How?”
Philia remained beautiful—more like my sister than my mother. I smiled warmly and brushed back her disheveled hair.
“It’s a long story, Mother. Let’s sit down and talk about it.”
“Are you eating well? Getting enough food?”
“The master looks perfectly healthy, doesn’t he?” Berik interjected dryly, pulling out a chair for her. Philia’s complexion was equally good. I observed the neat and tidy cottage with a murmur.
“It seems life in the mountains suits you well.”
“It was difficult at first, but being confined to that semi-basement for so long… now waking with the morning sun feels wonderful, and the cool valley is lovely. If I venture out a bit, I find berries everywhere.”
I patted the back of her hand to comfort her. At that, she burst into tears again. Having met her son only through disguise, seeing him with her own eyes now was overwhelming.
“Ian. Now tell me your story. What on earth has happened?”
I explained the events of recent times simply. The dealings with Mollin, crossing the Great Desert to live among the Cheonrye Tribe, Count Derga’s judgment and the battle that followed, even his execution. When Philia heard that Count of Bratz had been annihilated, she couldn’t hide her shock.
“Count of Bratz is dead?”
“Count Bratz is dead?”
“Mrs. Mary and Chel will feel the same way.”
“Heavens, Ian. I must offer prayers to God at once.”
She appeared genuinely delighted. And she seemed to understand why Ian had arrived here safely.
“Mother, there is something I must tell you.”
“Anything, my dear.”
I smiled sadly. She did not know that my angelic son was Emperor Ian. A strange emotion stirred within me at her innocence.
“Count Derga’s banner has been broken, but much work remains. People are descending from the Central region once more.”
“Yes, I see.”
“I plan to ascend to the Central region later, following those people.”
Tsk. Berik clicked his tongue as he sipped his tea. Despair had settled once more upon Philia’s face. Her eyes glistened with moisture, but she waited, knowing her son’s words were not yet finished.
“I am telling you that I cannot be certain whether I will be able to remain with you or not.”
“Still….”
Still? What was she trying to say?
Philia gazed at me with tears brimming in her eyes.
“But if you wish it, I can still see you, can I not?”
“…Of course.”
“And there will be no danger?”
“That is how it shall be.”
“Then that is enough. I am satisfied. In truth, I have no desire to leave. Life in the forest brings me such contentment. If you live on, sharing the same time as me, that alone is sufficient.”
Since it was the path my child had chosen, how could I harbor any other feelings as a mother? I am simply grateful that he has returned alive.
“Once the situation is resolved quickly, you too will be able to live freely, Mother. It will not take long. Before I depart, I will arrange a place for you in the village.”
“It is fine, Ian. I am truly fine.”
Count Derga is dead, and Ian has returned alive.
To wish for more than that would surely invite God’s punishment.
“And there is something I wish to ask you.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“About the red flowerpot you gave me in the garden.”
The Silaskra, a flower that never wilts, blazing red. That alone was extraordinary, yet beneath it lay buried a jeweled necklace.
“Do you remember where it came from?”
“Of course. Was it not payment I received for running an errand for a merchant guild?”
“A merchant guild?”
When I asked again, Philia appeared flustered instead. It had not been so long ago—how could she not remember?
“It was quite a large guild. I do not recall the name, but they said they were short-handed, so you went along as well. And the guild master was generous with payment and even gave you the flowerpot.”
“Do you recall any further details?”
“Hmm…. Ah! There was supposedly a very distinguished person at the guild. Ma, ma….”
Philia’s throat seemed to catch, and she frowned. Then she tilted her head, searching through the hazy memories of that day.
“Ma something it was. In any case, I remember you were exceptionally happy that day.”
“I see.”
While nothing was certain, it was clear that the owner of the Silaskra and the jewels was connected to that mysterious guild. Given its apparent size, surely someone in the village would remember it.
I rose from my seat, satisfied that I had learned enough.
“Leaving already?”
“I have some pressing matters to attend to.”
Philia couldn’t hide her disappointment. The tea was still warm. Ian felt a pang of sympathy and added, “I’ll have Berik send you some chickens. You must get lonely out here in the forest—try raising them.”
“I’ll have Berik send you some chickens. You must get lonely out here in the forest—try raising them.”
“Oh my! That would be wonderful!”
“If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Ah! Ian, do you not need gula?”
The unexpected question made me pause. Philia moved with light steps toward the inner storage door and retrieved two large sacks.
“You said so yourself—to gather gula seeds whenever I had time. There are two more sacks outside besides these.”
The sacks were filled with small seeds the size of cherry tomatoes. There must have been hundreds of them. It seemed as though she had harvested every gula in the vicinity.
“Where are the gulas after removing the seeds?”
“I threw them off the cliff.”
Berik ran his hand through the seeds once and his jaw dropped in astonishment. Not only had she collected so many useless gula seeds, but she had done it all alone—it was almost unbelievable.
“You seem to have quite a talent for horticulture.”
“After eating three meals a day, time is all that remains. I simply occupied myself with this, and it turned out this way.”
Indeed, Philia had kept herself hidden since before I crossed the border. Caught up in the chaos of events, I hadn’t noticed, but here in this peaceful, solitary place, several months had passed.
“You don’t need them?”
Philia asked carefully, studying my expression. She had gathered them because I had asked her to, but my lukewarm response seemed to worry her.
“No, Mother. You are truly remarkable.”
I tied the sack’s opening and smiled at Philia. I had only mentioned it in passing, yet she remembered and acted on it. At my praise, Philia’s face brightened as though she had received a reward.
“The timing is most opportune.”
“Is it? I’m so glad.”
Summer, when farmers should be sweating in the fields. But they were laboring elsewhere due to village reconstruction. Moreover, the crops that had sprouted from spring planting had all been trampled and destroyed by military boots.
“Mother, the truth is… these gulas are edible.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“The toxic components are not in the seeds. You can roast them, bake them, or boil them.”
Was my son joking? Philia examined my face but found no sign of jest. Berik also narrowed his eyes and asked me, “Are you delirious from the heat?”
“Are you delirious from the heat?”
“They taste good even raw.”
Instead of answering, I picked up a seed and popped it into my mouth. Both Berik and Philia gasped in horror and rushed toward me.
“Oh my, I-Ian!”
“Spit it out! Spit it out now! What are you doing?”
Crunch. Crackle.
But I chewed the seed without concern, savoring its nutty flavor. Gauging the number of seeds in the sack, I gave an order.
“Berik, I’m going to need you to work hard.”
“W-what… what do you need?”
“The fact that you’re using formal speech suggests you’ve caught on.”
“You want me to move these downstairs…?”
“Yes. Secretly, discreetly. Hide them in the manor’s storage.”
“I… see.”
Crunch.
I answered thus and popped another Gula seed into my mouth. Philia floundered helplessly, caught between impossible choices. And Berik lay prostrate, swallowing back curses of frustration.
I smiled wickedly, my gaze sweeping across the distant vista below the ridge where the territory that had once been Bratz lay fully exposed.
* * *
Meanwhile, Romandro—dispatched as both a reconstruction specialist and advisor—kept his eyes fixed beyond the carriage window, his expression twisted in displeasure. He yearned desperately to leap out and race back to the Capital that very instant.
‘I’m losing my mind. Truly.’
The distance itself was considerable, and the Borderlands were remote enough, but the real problem was that the situation on the ground was far from ordinary. Setting aside the matter of citizens fighting citizens, what troubled him most was—
“Are you feeling unwell?”
“No, sir. My back is simply sore from the journey.”
The true issue was the very person accompanying him: Mollin, the administrative official.
Not his direct superior, yet by rank and position, wasn’t Mollin his superior? He claimed to have come to help Romandro adapt to the Borderlands, but his presence was more hindrance than help.
‘Prince Marib is being utterly unreasonable. How long has it been since I returned from the temple reconstruction, and yet he sends me here like this… Sigh… I want to go home…’
And as if Mollin’s accompaniment weren’t troublesome enough, Prince Marib had even issued secret orders to monitor Mollin’s movements separately and report back. They hadn’t even arrived yet, and Romandro already longed to return to the Capital.
“What do you make of the situation in the former Bratz territory?”
“Pardon? Well… Based on the reports Captain Erika submitted, it seemed quite severe. I’m uncertain how the cleanup is progressing, but I can only hope we don’t get pelted with stones when we arrive.”
Romandro muttered this complaint almost unconsciously.
Only Mollin knew that I was currently stationed in the Bratz territory with the Cheonrye. Should this information leak, the Imperial Palace might dispatch massive forces, reducing their plans to use it as a rebel stronghold to nothing.
“Indeed. I hope there are no surprises awaiting us.”
Mollin turned his gaze away, recalling the Bratz of old. Then he absently fingered Erika’s letter, which he kept tucked in his breast.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————