Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 558

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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 557
Fire. Bewilderment
Splash.
I shook my head lightly as the Mages poured water over me.
Once I wiped away the dirt and grime from my face, it became clean in an instant. The Mages huddled around me, checking carefully to see if there were any wounds or injuries, but fortunately I appeared unharmed. They gazed at me with wonder and asked.
“But Count Ian, how on earth do you wield a sword so skillfully?”
“Is it because you’re young? Your movements were incredibly swift.”
“Really now. How many years apart are you and Count Ian?”
“Twelve years now, because of the Abyss.”
“Ah, that’s right. Count Ian, did you perhaps receive separate sword training? I heard in passing that you received noble lessons before.”
“That bastard training in Bratz?”
“For something learned so formally, isn’t it far too serious? It’s unfair. Count Ian, please take it easy. You see, handsome people shouldn’t exercise too hard. That’s a kind of social contract. Yes.”
“Stop spouting nonsense.”
While the Mages chattered away noisily, I calmly wiped my neck clean.
“I did learn it. A long time ago.”
A very long time ago.
Back when I was too young to understand, no matter how much it was explained—how sharp a blade was, how heavy its weight felt, how hot human blood could be.
I vividly remembered Chroni, who had taught me swordsmanship.
“You did well. You have talent.”
“Really?”
“Of course. When your mana leaks out occasionally, suppress it with your sword. If you do, your uncle will live, and I will live.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you mean.”
“It’s fine. Now, let’s try again.”
Crack.
I wrung out my wet sleeve tightly.
It wasn’t a pleasant memory. Those were days when I was far too young, living within Chroni’s world, not knowing how to pray to God.
The Mages helped me straighten my clothes and added their comments.
“You’re truly amazing. You didn’t see the atmosphere among the soldiers earlier, did you? Their morale soared so high it tore through the sky. As long as we Mages are here, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Well, Mages are Mages in their own way, but hmm. It’s hard to explain without losing face, and well. Hehe. You’ve worked hard.”
“Iaaaan!”
Boom!
Just then, Berik tumbled down from the Golem’s shoulder. He rolled once and stopped right in front of me, giving a thumbs up. His behavior was completely unlike someone with a wound in his abdomen.
“You madman, you’ll reopen your wound!”
“Then I’ll sew it back up!”
“Do you think skin is a piece of cloth? And we’re Mages, not doctors! We don’t know anything about wound suturing!”
“I don’t care! Anyway, Ian. You were pretty cool, right?”
As Berik poked my waist playfully and joked, the Mages’ eyes narrowed. How dare this guy touch Count Ian’s waist? Did he want to die?
The Mages lined up and faced Berik.
“That’s what I’m saying, Berik. Our Count Ian, who only held a pen all day, had more elegant swordsmanship than you training all day long.”
“Huh? Are you insane? Who are you comparing to whom right now?”
“It’s an honor, isn’t it? So stop pestering Count Ian and return to the Imperial Guards already. When on earth is Captain Jairat going to wake up? Ugh.”
“Wait, this is ridiculous! Mac! You’re pouring magic into your sword like that, so if I can’t do the same, there’s something wrong? In terms of swordsmanship alone, I obviously win?”
“Yes, yes. I understand. So you’re saying in a long-winded way that you can’t win without a handicap. I hear you loud and clear.”
“Ugh! Come here! I’m going to take you down first!”
“Oh, now it’s worth trying. Come on.”
Ayuoh! The Mage taunted with a flick of his fingertips, and Berik was about to charge forward with vigor. But in that instant, Minister Maxim Tweller suddenly appeared and extended his hand in front of him, stopping the attempt.
Tweller gave a slight nod as if to say he should exercise restraint. It was a signal that His Majesty the Emperor was approaching.
“Count Ian!”
“Your Majesty.”
Jin entered with slightly hurried steps, pushing aside the tent flap with his own hands. At first, his expression was clearly worried, but seeing Ian sitting there unharmed, his demeanor eased.
“Are you injured?”
“I am unharmed. It is all the enemy’s blood.”
Remarkable. You truly are remarkable.
He said nothing more, but Jin’s eyes spoke volumes.
In those gleaming eyes, I saw the young Jin from childhood. That was how the boy of ten years old had looked at me. Those were the eyes that gazed upon me with wonder. I realized anew that some things do not change with the passage of time.
I smiled and fastened my buttons neatly.
“I apologize, Your Majesty. I should have handled this without giving you cause for concern, yet it seems I have troubled you.”
“No, do not speak such words. My concern is only natural. I hold all those who have stepped forward for Bariel close to my heart.”
“I am grateful for your words.”
“The movements of the other tribes providing support from behind have ceased. Upon seeing the fire, they sensed something amiss. The likelihood of their retreat is growing.”
“If they possess the instinct to survive, they will. We shall advance again as planned, before noon. Minister Tweller, there should be no problems, correct?”
“Of course, Minister Ian.”
Since Ian had already organized everything, what reason could there be for delay? Out of an abundance of caution, I had even arranged the formations. We are ready to march out immediately.
“However, Minister Ian.”
“Yes, Minister Tweller.”
“You must have learned swordsmanship?”
“I learned a bit when I was young, though it would be embarrassing to call it proper training.”
A bit when young, he says. So it was from the Bratz side after all? Maxim Tweller stroked his beard smoothly, then asked in a measured tone.
“Did you study under a master from the Imperial Palace?”
Tweller’s question was quite sharp. Chroni had been the Vice Minister of the Imperial Defense Ministry, and his teachings were ultimately based on Imperial Palace swordsmanship.
At this, Jin turned to look at Ian with interest. The fact that there was a swordmaster of Imperial origin in the Bratz territory, and that Ian had received instruction from him and now belonged to the Imperial Palace, was simply remarkable.
What should I say? I pondered briefly, but then nodded naturally.
“Yes, that is correct.”
“Oh, your master must be absolutely delighted. Your disciple shines so brilliantly, does he not?”
“I suppose so.”
I murmured quietly. As I shone brighter, what of Chroni?
Maxim Tweller, noticing the shadow that fell across my quiet words, observed Ian’s expression, but could find no particular reaction. Ian wore a white smile.
“You are too kind.”
“…You are humble indeed.”
“Then I shall take my leave and continue preparations. Your Majesty, I withdraw first. Please ensure you eat well. As we approach Burgos, unforeseen circumstances will arise.”
“Yes. You as well, Count Ian.”
I offered a light bow and turned away. The mages filed out in a single line behind me, with Berik bringing up the rear.
“Minister Tweller. Let us depart as well.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
At Jin’s urging, Tweller bowed, but his gaze lingered on the tent where I had disappeared. The swordsmanship he had learned during his years as a bastard seemed to possess an unusual depth….
‘How peculiar.’
Rather than suspicious, “peculiar” was the more fitting word. Knowing how overwhelming the Magic Department’s duties were, it seemed nearly impossible for him to train separately. No matter how much magical power supported it, that was….
‘A battle that bore the marks of real combat.’
Tweller glanced at the cloth stained with blood, then turned his head away. He would have to ask Ian about this properly later, once the war concluded and he had time to spare.
* * *
“Huh—what?!”
Romandro, who had been dozing in his chair, jolted awake in alarm. Drool was clearly visible at the corner of his mouth, but the soldiers kept their eyes fixed forward, pretending not to notice. He had nearly toppled over in his chair, but somehow managed to wake himself.
Romandro immediately thrust his head toward King Damon’s bedchamber to assess the situation.
‘Nothing amiss.’
Damon still stood with his face pressed close against the window.
Observing this quietly, Romandro felt something was off and gestured to the soldiers.
“You there.”
“Yes. You called for us?”
“Block the window.”
“The window, sir?”
The window was securely fastened with iron bars, and its opening was no larger than a palm—escape and infiltration alike were impossible. So why?
“Must I explain my reasons?”
“No, sir. I shall fetch wooden boards at once.”
“Send for a servant! A servant! Not a single soldier is to leave his post!”
What in the world was this, waking up from a good sleep for this?
The soldiers grumbled inwardly, but Romandro remained resolute. If an assassin were to use a ranged weapon, even such a small gap could pose a danger, could it not? With Damon pressing his face so close to the window, if something went wrong, there would be no time to act before disaster struck.
Well, even if no building stood as tall as this tower, dragons flew through the skies of this world.
Thud! Boom!
“Pardon us.”
“We shall proceed inside.”
Soldiers carrying wooden boards, nails, and hammers entered King Damon’s bedchamber.
With shackles bound around his wrists and ankles, Damon could not move much and merely twisted his body. In truth, he seemed reluctant to leave the window.
“We shall block the window now.”
Shove.
Damon pushed the soldier away with his bound hands, expressing his displeasure. For a man whose tongue had been cut and who had lain as if dead until now, it was quite a violent protest. He was already completely confined, and now they would not even let him see outside? Was this not too much?
The soldiers agreed in their hearts, but with Romandro standing firm, there was little they could do.
“My apologies.”
“Wait, this way.”
It was the moment Damon resisted and roughly shoved the soldier away.
Clang!
The iron bars suddenly shattered into fragments. Had I struck wrong? Everyone turned their heads in confusion, then froze.
“…!”
“…!”
Blood streamed down the forehead of the Soldier who had been standing near the window with a wooden plank.
He collapsed without even comprehending his own death. Something small and sharp had flown across the distance, pierced through the iron bars, and killed the man standing there.
“Ahhhhh!”
“Hey! Hey! Are you alright?”
“Get away from the window! Damn it!”
The Soldiers crouched low and shouted, while Romandro rushed toward the fallen Soldier.
Good heavens. What in the world was this…!
“King Damon!”
Romandro cried out reflexively, and the Soldiers who had regained their senses turned to look at Damon.
In that moment, Damon approached the shattered iron bar fragments and grasped a large piece in his hand. Should he swallow it, burn it, or pierce something with it? King Damon appeared excited at the thought that this was finally the end and a new beginning.
“No!”
“We can’t! We mustn’t let him die!”
“Please, don’t do this!”
Crash! Clang!
Where was he drawing such strength from? King Damon grappled back and forth with two Soldiers, his shackles clanking loudly against each other.
While the Soldiers restrained Damon, Romandro gathered up the broken fragments and swept them away. Including the metal piece that Damon had dropped during the struggle.
“That’s it! Outside! Call for a Doctor!”
“What’s happened? Gasp!”
“Hurry! Hurry! And get the Mage on duty from the Magic Department!”
“Yes, yes!”
The Soldiers waiting outside also seemed flustered by the sudden chaos. Just as they were about to head down the stairs—
Tap tap tap!
Another sound of footsteps. An Intruder.
Even if the Imperial Palace was empty, how could they have gotten in? The protective barrier was still intact! Romandro drew the sword from the fallen Soldier’s waist.
“Yes, yes, you bastard! Do you know where this is….”
His hands trembled and his voice wavered as it came out, but Romandro stepped forward one pace at a time. Unaware that tears were welling up in his eyes.

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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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