Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 56

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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 56. Financial Support
Unlike Berik, these men were not ignorant of magic. They worked alongside the Magic Ministry in the capital, conducting state affairs. They could not possibly fail to recognize what that brilliant gleam in my eyes signified.
Mollin and his companions stared at me with their mouths slightly agape, and the silence was broken by Romandro’s hiccup.
“H-hic, s-so you’re saying….”
“I am what you call a mana wielder, sir.”
“But when on earth did….”
“I cannot say. It has been a natural force accompanying me since long ago.”
It was a disaster. Mollin pressed his forehead with a hand as withered as a twig. What he had witnessed before was clearly no illusion. Mac and Dgor, too, covered their mouths in shock.
“For now, I can only sense and channel the flow of mana, but one day I wish to become a force for Bariel.”
“W-well, of course! Of course, naturally. Good heavens! To think such things happen in this world. To see a mana wielder outside the Magic Ministry! Haha!”
And the illegitimate son of an executed Count, no less!
Romandro instinctively grasped that I was the center of everything—the accusation, the execution, and every action since entering the city. He had thought my youth belied an exceptional nature, but now it all made sense.
“Might I shake your hand once?”
“Yes? Haha. It would be my honor.”
It was a trivial superstition—that meeting a mana wielder before they earned the title of mage would bring good fortune. Romandro and I shook hands again, and with each moment, Mollin’s expression grew increasingly dark.
‘What am I to do about this.’
Whether my mother was a commoner or anything else no longer mattered. From Kakantir’s expression, he clearly already knew.
‘The way he displays it so deliberately before Romandro….’
His intention to never return to the great desert was evident. He seemed intent on remaining in Bariel, and now that he was revealed as a mana wielder, all initiative lay with me.
Look at that foolishly flushed face of Romandro’s.
“Let us discuss the details further over dinner this evening. You have traveled far, after all. It would be better to rest first.”
“Ah. Would that be acceptable?”
“I shall have rooms prepared for your subordinates.”
“Much obliged. Two weeks in a carriage is no easy feat.”
Having confirmed the general situation, Romandro rose from his seat with a heavy body. The future schedule and the matter of the illegitimate son could be discussed gradually.
Was there even anything to discuss? Rather, he would simply receive a report on the reconstruction efforts.
“You stay here a moment.”
As the gathering was about to disperse, Mollin muttered quietly. I exchanged a glance with Kakantir and remained seated.
“Lord Romandro. We shall meet at dinner.”
“Ah. Yes. Of course….”
“This way….”
Creak.
With only Mollin’s group remaining in the reception room, silence hung heavy. Mollin hoped I would explain myself and show a cooperative attitude, but I showed no such inclination. Unable to bear it, Mac interjected.
“What exactly are you doing?”
“Doing, sir?”
“Doing? I’m asking why you complicate matters so.”
“What complication is there, sir? I gave Lord Mollin the denunciation, and in return, Lord Mollin granted me freedom. There was no agreement regarding what came after.”
Clink.
Mollin set down his teacup roughly as he rebutted.
“Did I not ask at the time! Whether you knew anything of mana wielding! You said you knew nothing at all. It seems you covet the Bratz domain, and had you spoken honestly then, matters would not have become so entangled.”
Had they known Ian was a mana user, they would have naturally tried to install him as the puppet lord instead of Erika. Though he was a bastard, he had the merit of providing the letter of denunciation, and above all, while his bloodline was common, his abilities were rare—they could have found a way regardless.
“Do I have an obligation to speak honestly?”
Ian, who had been listening quietly, countered. It might seem presumptuous, but the question stemmed purely from genuine curiosity.
“My past decisions were the best choices available at that time. Whatever Mollin says now, it’s no concern of mine.”
Besides, weren’t these people followers of Prince Gail? They were scheming to consume the province as a foothold for rebellion—there was no way Ian, who had led Bariel through legitimate bloodline, would go along with it.
They wouldn’t understand. What it meant to plot treason. But I didn’t expect them to understand.
“What do you want?”
“I’d like to ask instead. What do you want?”
The conversation began to drift slightly. It was the kind of dialogue that emerged when people who believed they held the initiative opened with their own preambles.
“…I, no. We would make Erika the lord. If you truly cannot relinquish the position, perhaps we could find a compromise—”
“The appointment of a lord falls under the Emperor’s purview. How can you speak such irreverent words? And it would be better to find someone else. Erika’s reputation within the territory is decidedly negative.”
Knock, knock.
“Lord Ian. A letter has arrived from Merelrof.”
“Very well. I’ll be right there.”
Ian concluded that further conversation with Mollin would be unproductive. At the sound of the servant calling from outside, he rose without hesitation.
“You three must be weary. Please rest and recover. Still, since you’ve come from the imperial palace, I’ll ensure nothing is lacking in the preparations.”
Creak, slam!
“Yes!”
Mollin’s group exchanged bewildered laughs as they watched the door through which he’d departed. Yet none of them could offer an opinion that would break the deadlock. It was a situation where Ian’s offense and defense were firmly entrenched.
* * *
—To His Highness Prince Marib. This is Romandro.
I have just arrived and surveyed the territory. The condition is better than expected. There are still residences to be rebuilt, but few sleep on the streets, and the people smile often.
However, this is remarkable. In the territory, instead of Erika, a bastard named Ian—Count Derga’s illegitimate son—is stationed with the Cheonryeo Tribe. I was taken aback, but he appears favorable to the imperial palace and, above all, genuinely devoted to reconstruction. I’ll attach the details separately in a report.
There should be no problems with the overall progress. Additionally, I should note that the bastard Ian is a mana user. Mollin claims he should be enslaved according to imperial law, but what nonsense is that? I shall first—
Knock, knock.
Romandro stopped there and hesitated. As the door opened and a servant’s face appeared, the aroma of food wafted through.
“Dinner has been prepared.”
“Very well. I’ll come down.”
Romandro descended to the dining hall below. Neat dishes arranged on silver platters. He sat and examined them with his eyes first—there were almost no fresh vegetables or fruits, and the meal consisted mainly of dried meat that could be stored long-term.
‘It seems the supply of provisions hasn’t been normalized.’
It was summer, when the sun blazed fiercely. It was a time when the labor of the territory’s people was needed, but many had died, and those who survived stood in despair before their ruined fields. And that wasn’t all—with the Central Army and the investigation unit stationed here, whatever stored provisions they’d had would have been depleted rapidly.
“Does everyone in this manor eat like this?”
“Ah… Is there something you’d prefer? The Advisor’s subordinates were served the same meal as well.”
“No, no. I was merely curious. What of Ian?”
“He said to eat first. A letter arrived from a neighboring territory.”
From their response, it seemed everyone ate this way. Romandro picked up his fork to satisfy his hunger. Had the situation been at its worst, he might have eaten on the ground. In places touched by the winds of battle, that was natural. Yet here he was, eating a warm evening meal at a table!
‘Lucky. Mm. Excellent!’
As he was nearly finishing his meal, Ian entered the room.
“Lord Romandro. Does the meal suit your palate?”
“Ah, welcome. How is Mollin getting on?”
“Similarly, he takes his meals in his room.”
Romandro pretended not to notice the thick stack of documents in his hands and greeted Ian. Ian smiled brightly and sat closer to him. The servants quickly cleared away the empty dishes.
“I hope you’ll reference this as you proceed.”
“Let me see. Ah, maps and situation reports.”
“I’ve compiled detailed information on the restoration progress and regional conditions.”
The Advisor skimmed through the map once before asking. Hadn’t a servant mentioned earlier that a letter had arrived from a neighboring estate?
“Is there any exchange with the neighbors here?”
“During the height of the conflict, one crisis followed another, so we kept the outer gates firmly locked to avoid entanglement. However, we’re now gradually exchanging letters.”
“More than anything, it would be good to obtain crops we can harvest before winter arrives. What’s the status of food supply provisions?”
“The Central Army garrison has consumed a great deal. We’re currently emptying all the mansion’s storehouses, but it won’t be long before they’re completely bare.”
Ian said this while presenting another document.
“Therefore, I recommend collecting only thirty percent of the normal tax this winter.”
“As I’ve said, my goal is to match normal yields.”
Romandro was somewhat taken aback. Though Ian was managing the mansion’s affairs, he hadn’t expected him to discuss taxation in such precise terms. At merely sixteen, a bastard from the borderlands shouldn’t possess such concepts.
“Based on the property lists reported by the estate residents, compared to last year, the yield is only half. Additionally, the mansion requires compensation payments to the Cheonryeo Tribe beyond the wages of a few servants. My calculations show thirty percent is appropriate.”
Ian explained this while turning to the next page. This was a decision backed by clear evidence. Dozens of sentences and formulas testified to it.
“However, I cannot adjust the target.”
“That’s unfortunate. If the capital were to waive taxes just for this year, I believe we could manage up to fifty percent…”
“Did you calculate all of this yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Weren’t you said to be a bastard of lowborn origin?”
“Before crossing the Great Desert, as a gesture of goodwill, I had a dedicated tutor assigned to me.”
Still, this was…
He could be deployed to practical duties immediately without difficulty. Romandro couldn’t help but marvel, continuing to examine the documents meticulously. It was when he took a sip of the wine the servant had poured.
“…There’s no helping it. I have an alternative. I’ve brought a letter from Marquis Merelrof. Do read it.”
“Hmm?”
Upon receiving the letter, Romandro couldn’t help but let out a laugh. It was precisely a method to procure food from the neighboring estate.
Romandro’s mouth nearly split from smiling at Ian’s brisk and refreshing manner of handling affairs. If things went well, he thought, they might even see Bariel’s first snow of the year in the capital.
“When I asked Marquis Merelrof to sell us grain, he replied that he would organize a list of available items and prices to send us. Essential goods like wheat and corn won’t be in abundant supply on his end either, so prices are expected to be somewhat higher than normal…”
Romandro found himself nodding unconsciously as he listened to Ian’s explanation.
“…In any case, trade with them is necessary. Since the mansion’s funds have run dry, we should be able to purchase enough to sustain the estate residents for about a week.”
“Ah, don’t worry about that.”
The Advisor had come down from the capital to restore public sentiment. In fairness, he couldn’t adjust the taxes, but he had brought support funds for his own use. He tapped the table lightly.
“Two months’ worth is possible. With that, we should be able to return to normal by winter, shouldn’t we?”
“If I may ask, what is the amount…?”
At Ian’s question, Romandro simply drank his wine. It was a silent answer that he couldn’t reveal it. It was understandable, as this was virtually the only power Romandro held.
“Then I’ll convey our intention to Marquis Merelrof.”
“Do that.”
“Let me organize things briefly…”
Ian gestured to the servant and left the dining room. Around the corner of the corridor, Kakantir and Nersaren, along with his subordinates, were waiting. Berik was there as well.
Ian opened his mouth.
“We have a problem.”

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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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