Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 579

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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 578
Fire. Below the Cliff
Torches filled the area around the darkened barrier. The work of clearing rubble continued without pause, and beside it, the corpses of Burgos Soldiers in armor piled like mountains.
A survivor was dragged up from the side, and when Melania confirmed his face with a torch, she cried out in shock.
“Clark!”
He was covered in dust and blood, gasping for breath. It seemed his breathing could stop at any moment. It was a miracle he was alive at all.
Soon a Healing Mage rushed over and grasped Clark’s hand.
“Is this Clark?”
“Yes, it’s definitely him. Clark, come to your senses!”
“Right below! An Imperial Guard! I can see the uniform!”
“Pull! Lift him!”
“One, two, three!”
Wakion, who had been with Clark, lay dead with his body curled into a ball. It seemed he had died protecting Clark, supporting the collapsing barrier with his own body.
The Mages let out sorrowful sighs at the tragic death, and then watched the approaching Imperial Guards from a distance.
“Sigh.”
The Guards fell to their knees one by one with deep sighs. Of the five Guards who had invaded through the barrier, three were dead. Bonita, Canna, and Wakion. There was still no sign of Barsabe, so what would happen to her remained uncertain.
Melania wiped Clark’s face while witnessing their mourning.
Crack.
Then Clark’s hand suddenly seized her wrist. With his eyes still closed, he began to murmur something.
“There seems to be a Puppeteer in Burgos, but…”
“Clark! Don’t speak. Just focus on breathing.”
“Berik went to find them, and from the Gypsy’s lips, I heard the name Tolurun mentioned… please relay this…”
“I said don’t speak! Mana is flowing in! Hold on!”
“Ugh! Ahhhhh…”
Zing! Zing!
Clark let out agonized groans with his neck veins bulging, then immediately lost consciousness and fainted.
Would he be alright? Melania looked back at the Mage with concern. Fortunately, the treatment seemed successful. Relief was evident on their faces.
“The barrier’s foundation is visible! It appears all the buried people have been extracted, but should we continue the work?”
As the Soldiers waved their torches as signals, the Imperial Guards’ eyes sparkled. Barsabe’s corpse hadn’t even been found yet, and already the bottom of the barrier was visible. What did this mean?
“It’s clear that Barsabe was chasing Rutherford.”
“Ian, Captain Jairot!”
“What about me? Why didn’t you mention me?”
“Berik, have you been drinking?”
“A little. Is that… Wakion?”
“…Yes, it turned out that way. He departed first to seek glory.”
“He was going to leave eventually anyway. Might as well go slowly.”
While Berik murmured, Ian crossed over the rubble in light clothing. The Soldiers, who had wondered if he was some young child, recognized Ian and hastily removed their hats to bow.
On one side, corpses stacked like firewood reached a considerable height.
“You’ve all worked hard into the late hours. Soldiers who labored in clearing the barrier should take meat and alcohol, and you may sleep in tomorrow morning. Leave the bodies as they are and withdraw.”
“Thank you so much!”
“Chul-su! Chul-su! Stop digging now!”
“Soldiers, come this way and receive your rations! The alcohol and meat are still hot, so it’s excellent!”
“I was worried the smell of blood would make the food hard to swallow, but with alcohol here, things are different! Thank you!”
As the soldiers lined up and rushed forward, Berik discovered the Puppeteer among the pile of corpses. He nudged it with his foot, and it rolled limply to the side.
“Ian, this bastard. The pervert who played with puppets during the war. Look at this.”
“That’s Toolun military garb. So this one isn’t a Burgos soldier—he’s reinforcements sent from Toolun.”
“We had something similar happen in Bariel before. They dried out fairy corpses.”
Ian paused to think, then spoke.
“Captain Jairot.”
“Yes, Minister.”
“When assessing Toolun’s military capabilities, we will need information about their Puppeteers.”
“Yes, I will keep that in mind.”
Jairot bowed at a perfect right angle as he answered.
Though there was a clear rank difference between Minister and Captain, and they were from different departments, Jairot had always maintained only basic courtesy until now.
But what of his bow now? The attitude that emanated was something far beyond mere respect, and the Imperial Guards were suddenly reminded that what had happened earlier today was no dream.
The same was true for the Mages.
‘Right, he said he’s the Emperor from the future.’
‘I can’t get used to this, honestly.’
‘That face as Emperor. Hmm. That’s unfair.’
“Did you discover anything unusual during the search?”
“Ah, no, Ian. The cliffs near the rear gate were so treacherous that it was difficult to examine them carefully, but aside from that, there were no traces left by Barsabe.”
“Barsabe has certainly gone in pursuit, but we cannot follow. Our only remaining choice is to rest our bodies and minds to maintain our peak strength. It is unfortunate, but we have lost many great Imperial Guards in this battle. This directly concerns the safety of the Emperor. Tonight, you must set everything aside and take deep rest.”
Ian nodded to Jairot, indicating he should handle the cleanup, then called the Mages over. They came running with excited chatter, saying they had been waiting, and surrounded Ian.
“What of the Burgos messenger?”
“Yes, we captured him without issue.”
“Well done. I will consult with the representatives of Agiaar and rewrite the message. A Mage will serve as the messenger, so it would be best if the swift Tomi goes.”
“You say you will rewrite the message—what do you mean by that?”
“The main content will be that Agiaar has fallen and that the civilians, guaranteed safety, cooperated with Bariel and lowered their flag of their own accord. This way, we hope the cities to the south will also open their gates and avoid needless bloodshed.”
“The next city closest to Agiaar should be reachable in half a day. Just to be safe, may I take Dera Tribe weapons?”
“Of course. Safety comes first.”
“…Um, Ian!”
Whoosh!
As Ian slowly walked forward while handing over the documents, the Mages spread their hands to block his path. What was this about? When Ian tilted his head in confusion, the Mages’ eyes flickered in the light of the torches.
“Ian, you’re… you’re the Emperor, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Though that’s a distant future matter.”
“Then… what happens now? Ian, will you be able to stay in the palace?”
Now that the palace’s owner was determined, his existence could become a target of suspicion simply because of his bloodline connection.
Moreover, Ian had not only inherited the blood but had also ascended to the throne itself. Depending on how Emperor Jin accepted this, their fates would change going forward, so the Mages waited for Ian’s answer with tense expressions.
Thwack!
“If I’m not in the palace, what then? Should I go to your homes? Stop this nonsense and go get some rest.”
“Ahhh, Captain Akorella!”
“Ugh, you reek of alcohol. What is this? You were drinking while we were working? Berik’s face was flushed earlier too.”
“Today is a day when that’s allowed. You clueless little things. Now, anyone who doesn’t rest—I’ll take note of their dedication and invite them to my biological experiments.”
“Why does it always end up that way? Anyway, I’m relieved to hear that you’re alright, Ian. What we wanted to tell you is that we will trust and follow you, no matter who you are. So—”
The mages grasped Ian’s hand carefully, yet with considerable force. It was a moment that suggested just how much conversation they had exchanged among themselves during his absence.
Ian gazed down at their trembling hands, a smile playing at his lips.
“Then, I ask for your continued support.”
“We ask for your continued support! We will stand with you.”
“But Ian, how is your body? You were injured, weren’t you?”
“Without Ian, the Magic Department falls apart. Just look at Captain Akorella—ahhh! Stop it!”
“Just look at me? Keep going with that!”
“I’m sorry! Ahhhhh! My apologies!”
While the mages tangled together in joyful laughter, Ian became aware of eyes in the darkness. Eyes that held rigid bodies and the terror of death. They were the residents of Abigar.
Though the night was deep, they huddled along the roadside, merely enduring. Their homes had been half-destroyed or completely collapsed, leaving them with nowhere to return.
“Heil.”
“Yes, Ian.”
“Hurry and bring me the representative of Abigar’s residents. Only through agreement with them can we resolve the matter of the city’s reconstruction. And tell them to provide warm food for these people. The amount of blood spilled in the next battle will depend on how we treat them.”
If Abigar provided full cooperation, several cities could be taken without armed conflict, which would also mean significant casualties could be avoided among the soldiers.
Heil nodded in understanding and descended first, while Ian looked up at the black night sky.
‘No moon, no stars. Of all times.’
For Barsabe, who was in pursuit, it would be quite a difficult night.
Ian prayed that she would return safely, then turned away.
* * *
“Hah, hah.”
Damn Rutherford. Barsabe muttered curses as she breathed heavily.
The barrier had collapsed in the blink of an eye along with the gypsy’s sudden explosion. The toxic smoke had poured down like a blade toward where she happened to be standing, and if Bonita hadn’t blocked it, she surely would have died.
‘Did Captain Bonita die?’
She had left only the order to pursue Rutherford, then tumbled away with the black-armored soldiers as she swept aside the rubble. Her body had followed the command reflexively, but the feeling of abandoning her captain and fleeing caused tears to stream down her face continuously.
Barsabe wiped her eyes with the back of her left hand and looked downward.
‘This is a mess.’
Below the steeply cut cliff, Barsabe clung to a fist-sized stone protrusion. Pursuing Rutherford meant confronting multiple Mage Knights who were his guards. Honestly, it was impossible for her alone to face many, so she was merely following quietly behind them.
She had hidden her body to avoid being noticed, and now she was in this predicament.
‘The darkness below makes it impossible to gauge the height, and there’s nothing to step on if I climb up.’
It felt like she had been hanging here for nearly an hour. Barsabe alternated the strain between her right and left hands, pondering how to escape this situation.
Then, a faint voice from somewhere.
A human voice.
‘Where?’
Over there? If there was someone nearby, it had to be either Rutherford or his associates.
In the pitch darkness, Barsabe concentrated her senses on her fingertips to find a stone protrusion she could grasp. Then, secretly and carefully, she minimized any sound and swung across the cliff face.
“…Is there any problem?”
“It will take some time… Yes, …”
I could hear them. The closer I drew, the clearer their voices became. They were positioned directly above, on the cliff—that much was certain. Barsabe held her breath, her ears straining to catch every word.
“How long?”
“We expended considerable mana fighting the Bariel Mages earlier. It will take at least three days, if not more.”
“I thought you mentioned having something to restore mana.”
“We’ve exhausted our supply. What remains is stored within the barrier. Please wait three days. I will open a portal and escort you to Ruswena.”
It was Rutherford’s voice.
And if I had to guess, the other party was a mage from Ruswena’s side. It seemed roughly ten to twenty elite warriors had gathered, including Mage Knights.
If discovered, I would die.
“We must go to Toolun.”
And then, a rather unpleasant voice.
Barsabe furrowed her brow. A foreigner, perhaps? The pronunciation was awkward, and the voice had a distinctly harsh quality to it.
“Since we have lost Bagvan, there is no reason for us to remain here. We shall report to the King and discuss our next course of action.”
“The King? That man of Toolun?”
“Mind your tongue. He is our King.”
Barsabe’s eyes darted about as she absorbed every word of their exchange. She would not miss a single syllable.
She held her breath and suddenly looked upward, sensing the silence that had fallen above.
“…!”
Rutherford, his long hair cascading down, was peering below. The darkness seemed to have prevented him from spotting me immediately, but something had caught his attention.

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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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