Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 559

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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 558
Fire. Family’s Revenge
“Whoa, whoa. Stop.”
At the gesture of the Imperial Palace Guards, the Coachman slowly pulled back on the reins. Behind the cart, roughly a dozen large boxes were stacked, each emanating a pungent stench.
The Guard wrinkled his nose and retrieved the ledger.
“Which organization do you belong to?”
“Lacken Foods. We’re here to deliver food supplies to the Imperial Palace.”
“Ah, the ones specializing in duck meat? But the smell is quite strong. Is it spoiled?”
“With the heat rising, the meat spoils quickly. A few days ago, some rotten meat spilled through the gaps in the cart. That must be the smell.”
“What about your companions?”
“Besides me, there are five laborers. There’s another cart behind us.”
Swish.
When the food Supervisor showed his identification, the Guard quickly recorded it and made a large gesture. It was a signal to open the gate hastily.
The Coachman removed his hat in greeting, and the two carts entered one after another.
Clop, clop, clop!
The carts headed toward the food storage. The Coachman and laborers unloaded the boxes one by one, but one Man kept glancing around nervously before pulling his robe over himself. He was the source of the rotten stench.
The Man adjusted the beast bone necklace hanging around his neck.
Clink.
Then, without a word, he placed a pouch of gold coins where he had been sitting, and the Coachman naturally tucked it into his pocket.
No one paid attention to the Man who suddenly disappeared. Their contract was simply to smuggle him into the Imperial Palace.
Clop, clop, clop!
The Man crouched as low as possible while glancing around. Soon, he hid in the bushes, removed his robe, and held up a small torch. His shadow gradually stretched and lengthened. It was an unreal sight, yet a smile played at the corners of his mouth.
“Keke. Everyone, come out!”
Whoosh!
Heads stretched out from the shadow. They slowly emerged from the shadow while remaining vigilant. The sensation was far more unpleasant than expected, and their haste was evident.
“Ugh, this is rather unpleasant.”
“What, did you expect it to be like a bed?”
“Shut up. Insolent bastard.”
“Hmph. How else would you get out? Unless you want to die hugging King Damon.”
At the Natan Tribesman’s sarcasm, Nakasta glared menacingly. How dare this northern minority tribe be so disrespectful.
Nakasta had been King Damon’s closest aide before Burgos fell. In other words, he had been a beneficiary of Burgos’s power and possessed the ability to control northern minority tribes with a mere gesture—or rather, ‘had possessed’ it.
Though now it had become a faded glory.
“That’s enough. I’ll stay here, so you all go handle your business and come back. The delivery cart will take exactly two hours to leave. Aah, the Imperial Palace is nice indeed. So verdant.”
Thud! The Natan Tribesman sprawled out on the ground.
The Natan Tribe were people who manipulated shadows and could treat them like a separate space, but they had the disadvantage of having combat power near zero at night. The rotten stench from the beast bone ornaments was a bonus.
At this, Nakasta and his Subordinates clicked their tongues and began preparations for the assassination.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes, Nakasta.”
Nakasta concealed his face with a mask and infiltrated the darkness with his Subordinates. There was only one destination!
“Where is Matap?”
“It’s over there!”
It was the tower where King Damon was imprisoned.
Nakasta naturally acted as a royalist through his affiliation with the palace, but as time passed, he came to realize there was no hope in that direction.
Who was to blame for this prolonged war? Wasn’t it Bariel’s public justification about balance of power that kept fueling the flames?
In the end, an enemy nation that gnawed at the realm, and royalists who existed by its strength. Nakasta had long since shifted his allegiance to the anti-royalist faction, yearning for the nation’s unification.
“But, are you certain about this?”
“About what?”
Going to directly kill the lord he once served? Why would that be? At his subordinate’s concern, Nakasta smiled faintly.
“The King himself would understand. This is for the greater good!”
That is why I go.
Rutherford had expected King Damon to die quietly, but exceptions always exist. If any lingering attachment to life remained, if he wished to live, then I would have no choice but to handle it under the guise of protecting and serving him.
“The sack for the body?”
“It’s been prepared without issue.”
Bariel’s faction would never acknowledge King Damon’s death. At least not until after the war ended and they received help from the royalists in handling the aftermath.
Therefore, undeniable evidence was necessary. King Damon’s corpse. The sole, irrefutable proof that could confirm his death with one’s own eyes.
“Hmm?”
Thwack!
“What’s happening over there?”
“Are you alright?”
Romandro’s coachman was attacked from behind while smoking a cigarette. At the dull thud of him falling forward, the soldiers at the tower entrance reacted with confusion, and the assassins immediately leaped in nimbly, slitting all their throats.
Clean and precise—
With but a single strike.
Whoosh!
“Ugh!”
“Let’s go! Hurry up the stairs!”
“Any response from the window side?”
“Nothing visible from here!”
Another weapon from Burgos’s side was handling the window approach, but truthfully, I hadn’t expected success. No, perhaps I even hoped for failure. This operation had to succeed under my command.
To make a name for oneself in these turbulent times, one must create the great currents of history with one’s own hands, mustn’t one?
Tap tap tap!
The infiltration group consisted of roughly a dozen assassins. Gathered around Nakasta, their objective was to take King Damon’s life while simultaneously throwing the imperial palace into chaos. To inform the citizens that the great Bariel’s palace had come under enemy attack.
‘It doesn’t matter if the chaos prevents us from leaving. If I hide in the shadows of the Natan Tribe, all traces will completely vanish. I just need to endure in the shadows until Rutherford figures out a way!’
“The moment you secure King Damon and exit, set the fire!”
“Yes, understood!”
There was no hesitation in their ascending footsteps. Like beasts charging at their prey, they all cut down soldiers and climbed relentlessly without pause.
Finally—
“Yes, yes, you fool! What is this place….”
They arrived.
The assassins exhaled lightly and immediately shifted their stance. To focus on securing the staircase.
Nakasta drew his blade and stepped inside, facing Romand who trembled as he blocked the way.
“Where are they! You bastards!”
“They don’t seem to be warriors. Lie down and play dead if you can.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! You’re the one who should lie down!”
“Your Highness!”
At Nakasta’s cry, Damon lifted his head. Though pinned down by soldiers and unable to move, his gaze remained free.
My subordinate, whom I hadn’t seen in nearly ten years, looked exactly as he had before.
“Your Highness! Do you know the current situation in Burgos!”
“Hyaaaah!”
Clang! Clang!
Romandro charged forward with his eyes squeezed shut, and Nakasta easily deflected his blade.
Oof! Romandro tumbled backward, reflexively scrambled to his feet, and grabbed his sword again. Blood dripped from his right nostril, but he didn’t notice it in his tension.
“Ugh! Mmph!”
Damon made one final desperate plea to Nakasta, begging him to take him away. To free him from this suffocation and let him pass to the next world.
Nakasta, confirming my will to die, smiled with relief. Yes. That’s how it should be. As a king, face death with honor.
“Your Highness! Allow me to escort you!”
More precisely—your corpse!
Nakasta sharpened his blade’s edge. This time, he wouldn’t stop at deflecting the opponent’s attacks—he was warning that he would follow through with a counterattack.
Romandro sniffled at what might have been snot or blood, then charged again.
“Y-you bastaaaard!”
“How tedious!”
Clang!
Whoosh!
Romandro’s eyes cracked open slightly. What? He’d definitely heard the loud clash of metal, but he felt no impact, no pain.
“Huh?”
He stood alone, thrusting his sword into empty air.
Then where was his opponent?
“…!”
“It’s been a while.”
Nakasta had already closed in, his blade locked with Timothy’s. Just as he was about to strike Romandro, Timothy had thrown a chair from behind.
Romandro stood there dumbly for a moment, then quickly came to his senses and moved in front of Damon to shield him. Right, fighting wasn’t his style anyway. He was built for taking hits!
“L-Lord Timothy! Help!”
“My apologies for the delay.”
“N-no worries, our king is still in one piece.”
Kekeke!
Nakasta laughed bitterly and interjected into Timothy and Romandro’s exchange.
“Bariel’s finished, Timothy.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Do you resent me?”
Timothy’s grip tightened.
Resent? Was that even a word for what he felt? He had lived only for Burgos, worked only for Damon, and sought to live as a husband to one woman and a father to a child.
But—
“…I’ve moved beyond resentment into pure hatred.”
Damon and Nakasta ruined everything.
Damon doubted me, and Nakasta whispered conspiracies in that gap. A massive storm descended upon my fate, which would have remained unchanged—yesterday, today, and tomorrow all the same. Unfortunately, it was my family that was swept away in the deluge.
“Hah. You’ve grown fatter in the meantime. Did Bariel’s food suit your palate? My wife and child are dead, eating nothing but dirt now.”
“…You bastard!”
Timothy pressed forward violently, swinging his blade.
I parried, but it was difficult. Nakasta had believed I’d honed my strength through the civil war, yet it seemed even an ordinary human couldn’t overcome such a difference in physique.
I called for my subordinates to aid me.
“Over here! Damn it!”
“Lord Nakasta!”
“Not me—over there! Toward King Damon!”
“I’ll handle the rear!”
The assassins split toward Timothy and Damon. Romandro charged forward again with his eyes squeezed shut, but was sent rolling helplessly with a single punch. The soldier holding King Damon collapsed as well, and the assassin shouted.
“We cannot remove the shackles. Would it not be better to finish him here and sever the chains?”
“Do it!”
Damon offered his neck willingly, and the assassin raised his blade.
“It is an honor! Your Highness!”
Dead. All dead.
Bariel, Ian Hielo—in this third life, I will trample them mercilessly. This moment alone, I have endured and waited for these ten long years!
Whoosh!
Then Timothy shoved Nakasta aside and rushed toward the assassin. He swung his blade wide, and in an instant, the man’s arm was severed cleanly. Effortlessly.
“Aaaahhh!”
Timothy seized the severed stump and drove his blade mercilessly into the fallen assassin again and again.
Squelch!
With each furious strike, crimson blood erupted. It soaked Damon’s pale cheeks, and the once-bright gleam in his eyes grew dark, stained with blood.
“…Your Highness.”
Timothy wiped the red blood flowing from his eyes with the back of his hand, muttering.
“You pushed me into despair, yet how can you seek hope?”
“…Ugh.”
“No. Your Highness cannot choose anything. Do not die, but live as though you are dead.”
Romandro shook his head to clear his blurred vision, then embraced King Damon with his body once more. If anyone wanted to kill the King, they would have to kill him first.
“Nakasta.”
In his eyes, it seemed as though Timothy was weeping tears of blood. Like one already dead.
“I will abandon all reason as a human being and butcher you.”
No. Perhaps I was already dead.
From the moment my wife and child died.
At the eerily chilling aura, Nakasta swallowed dryly and gripped his blade again.
“So scream in agony. Let the screams of my wife and child… be erased from this world.”

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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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