Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 580

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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 579
Fire. Concerning Toollun
“By the way, what exactly is Toollun?”
While we sat in a circle tearing into meat, one of the Mages asked the question. Everyone’s mouths were too full to answer properly—they just blinked, their cheeks bulging with food.
After a brief silence, Captain Akorella spoke first.
“Toollun? It’s a place rich in Marknotiphia and Kellen deposits. Strangely, those two materials are hard to find anywhere else. Thank goodness the reserves are abundant, otherwise they’d be classified as rare stones, right? For what it’s worth, I’m not fond of either. Marknotiphia has poor cohesion—”
“Right. I’ve heard plenty of stories about it, but honestly, I know nothing concrete. Until recently, I didn’t even know where it was located. Do they have Mages there?”
“Kid, you just cut me off mid-sentence.”
“No, I cut the meat, not your words.”
“Mages? Probably. Mages don’t emerge from just one region, after all.”
“Still, being close to the northern territories, the Sorcerers’ influence must be strong there. If we ask Astana, they’d probably know more.”
“Astana doesn’t know much either. Apparently, there hasn’t been much exchange with Toollun. Besides, that place is basically in mourning right now—we can’t even get a word in.”
“Right. They suffered heavy damage from those mysterious long-range attacks, didn’t they? Is there a connection to the Puppeteer that Berik captured?”
“No idea. The dead tell no tales.”
“I’ve actually been there once.”
Everyone’s eyes widened at the Mage’s words. Toollun was a region with almost no exchange with Bariel, wasn’t it? The distance was considerable, and the religious differences were stark.
Now a new religion worshipping the Underworld Deity was flourishing and sweeping the nation, but truthfully, the people of Bariel found both the Underworld Deity and the older gods equally foreign.
“When? How?”
“That’s strange. Even when the Emperor was crowned, Toollun didn’t send a single envoy. How did you manage to go there?”
“It was a long time ago. I went with my father when I was very young. Though we only stayed for a month or two.”
“Ah, right. Didn’t you say your father was a merchant?”
“Not exactly a merchant. He did odd jobs for one.”
“Anyway, what was it like? I’ve heard that people climb onto roofs and pray prostrate. Is that true?”
The Mages pushed their meat aside, their eyes gleaming with interest.
The suddenly-spotlighted Mage felt embarrassed for a moment, then began murmuring as childhood memories surfaced.
“When the time comes, bells ring from somewhere. Then people stop whatever they’re doing and offer prayers to the sky. Even if they’re on a roof, they must do it—that’s probably where such stories come from.”
“Hmm. Is that so?”
“And from what I remember, the atmosphere was quite open. How should I put it… freedom within strict discipline? Or maybe order within chaos? And there were so many people. I rode a donkey, and my shoulder kept bumping into the person next to me—I wondered if I was actually walking or riding.”
“The land there is pretty vast too, right? I heard it’s about two or three times the size of Bariel.”
“Yes, that’s probably right. Most of it was farmland. The climate was somewhat arid, so agricultural efficiency wasn’t great.”
“Right, that’s true. The nation itself tends to be rather closed off. Anyway, since self-sufficiency is possible, they don’t feel the need to exchange with the outside.”
“That said, perhaps they fear religious change? In Gaia, Toollun is the only real outlier.”
“Could be. They have a King, right?”
“Ah, yes. Well, sort of…”
“Sort of what?”
The Mage shrugged with a laugh, as if unsure of the details.
“I heard it when I was so young that I’m not sure if I remember it correctly.”
“Well, either they have a King or they don’t.”
“From what I heard, they ‘elect’ their King.”
“Huh?”
What nonsense is this? Not direct succession, but election? Does it even make sense to elect a king? There aren’t rebellions every generation either.
“How do you elect a king?”
“They believe there’s a god hidden among the royal bloodline. There are several criteria for finding that god, and supposedly the child who meets those criteria ascends to the throne. I’m not sure if it’s merely symbolic or actually real. It’s such ancient history, after all.”
“How old are you again?”
“Forty-five, Captain Akorella.”
“Ah, that’s right. My apologies.”
Captain Akorella scratched the tip of her nose awkwardly, and everyone let out uncomfortable coughs. I couldn’t understand why the younger people in the Magic Department always occupied the most important positions. Well, with the youngest being Minister Ian, that said everything.
“Anyway, what a fascinating country.”
“Yes, it’s worth visiting once. The entire world is a yellowish earth tone, but the distinctive red and yellow hues are quite striking. It feels completely different from Hawan. That place has an intense red based on white, but Toollun is like a campfire built upon earth-colored ground.”
“Right. We’re heading there soon anyway. Once we advance through southern Burgos and clean everything up, we’ll cross over to Toollun immediately.”
“What?!”
Why are you telling us this now? As the shocked mages froze, Captain Akorella laughed casually while taking a huge bite of food.
“Why are you so surprised? You already knew we were going to Toollun. It’s been a matter of discussion since the expedition ceremony, for heaven’s sake.”
“But that was still under discussion back then! This means it’s confirmed now, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. I just heard about it myself. So what?”
“…In that case, I should send a messenger to the Imperial Palace Magic Department. To request materials about Toollun. And to send regards to Romandro.”
“Ah, never mind. Already sent it.”
Captain Akorella waved her hand dismissively and dragged her subordinates by their collars. It meant to stop wasting time and just keep eating.
“What? Really? Then perhaps, information about Minister Ian as well…?”
“Yeah.”
“Everything?”
“Yeah. Everything. Romandro needs to know too.”
“…He’ll be shocked, won’t he?”
“If he’s only shocked, that would be a blessing.”
Krgh! Captain Akorella drank deeply from her wine goblet and let out a bitter groan. Who doesn’t have their own story, but the account of Ian’s life that reached her from within was utterly tragic. As if the God himself had carefully orchestrated his destruction, piece by piece.
Just then, I caught sight of Captain Heil passing by nearby.
“Hey, Captain Heil. Where are you going without eating?”
“Just doing some reconnaissance with the Imperial Guards for a moment.”
Captain Heil gestured with his chin toward the Imperial Guards’ tent. Since the Mage Knights couldn’t fly, it seemed he and his subordinates had been asked to help.
Anyway, these people didn’t know how to rest even when told to. Captain Akorella pouted her lips and asked.
“What about Minister Ian? I haven’t seen him since earlier.”
“He’s in negotiations with the representatives of Agiar’s citizens. From the slow progress, it seems there’s some problem.”
“Hmm? Why? Agiar is already settled.”
“Before Agiar, they are Burgos people.”
Even among the civilians, positions were sharply divided. Some believed they would rather become prisoners of war than cooperate with Bariel, while others believed they should preserve their lives and open a new era.
I was told that Ian was simply sitting and watching them clash fiercely against each other. Whatever happened, it would proceed in the direction Bariel wanted, but to maximize the elimination of opposing opinions, it was judged more advantageous to induce them to collide violently rather than suppress them, letting them burn out. The night given to them was long, after all.
“Keep eating and resting. I’ll be going with Nakina for a bit.”
“Sure. If you come back late, there won’t be anything left.”
“Eat your fill.”
Captain Heil said so and headed toward the Imperial Guards’ tent.
While those outside were intoxicated with the victory of battle, the atmosphere inside the tent was heavy and subdued. And for good reason—the price paid for victory was considerable.
The team members wrapping bandages around their wounds rose to greet Captain Heil.
“You’ve arrived.”
“Yes, you asked for reinforcements.”
“Captain Jeirat.”
Captain Jeirat was already dressed in his uniform. The wounds he’d sustained in the northern territory had been deep, so he’d remained behind the lines until now, but that was no longer possible. With Bonita dead, Jeirat had to fulfill his duties as captain.
“I’d like you to search below the cliff once more. The Dragon is too large to enter such a narrow space, so I was hoping the Mages could assist with flight. I’ve already mentioned it to Minister Ian, but…”
“Yes, the captain understands the weight of this burden well. However, the darkness is too thick tonight, so we won’t venture too far.”
“Thank you, Berik.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure.”
With a ripping sound, Berik hastily tore the bandage and tied it, then pulled his shirt on. Though the wound was deep, he still had better mobility than the other team members. Berik tied his hair back roughly and studied the map.
“We should focus on the areas we checked earlier today, right?”
“Berik, are you drunk?”
“Wine? That’s a beverage, not alcohol. You all rest with your legs stretched out. I, the perfectly fine Berik, will go check it out.”
“Yes, Senior. Please be careful.”
“Captain Jeirat, please return safely.”
They exchanged casual gestures in farewell, and soon with the help of Heil and Nakina, they soared powerfully into the air.
Whoooosh—
In the thick night sky, the wind was fierce. Though they’d climbed high, the only light visible was from Abyar. Everything beyond was darkness.
Jeirat kept all his senses alert, hoping to detect any trace of Barsabe’s presence, while Berik yawned widely and sniffed the air.
Whoosh!
“We’re descending below the cliff.”
As they reached the entrance of the cliff face outside the barrier, Heil said so and lowered their altitude. The four of them entered between the rocks, relying on the faint glow of magical power.
No sign of any presence was felt. Not yet.
* * *
Barsabe realized this was what it felt like when blood froze in one’s veins.
Rutherford’s eyes looking down below gleamed coldly like a messenger of the underworld. And his long hair? She suppressed her presence as much as possible, even forgetting to breathe.
“Rutherford, what’s wrong?”
“Bring torches.”
It wasn’t mere suspicion. He’d definitely sensed something. Barsabe bit her lower lip hard, afraid the sound of her pounding heart would give her away.
“There may be pursuers nearby. It’s dangerous to light a fire now, Rutherford.”
“Then you. Go down there and check.”
“What?”
“Something seems to be down there. As you said, it could be pursuers, so go down and check if there’s anyone blind and deaf, will you?”
At Rutherford’s words, the surroundings fell silent again.
Barsabe was truly troubled. The others hadn’t noticed anything, so why only Rutherford?
But fortunately, no one was eager to step forward. The Ruswena Mages were reinforcements sent to support Rutherford, not his servants, and the Mage Knights had no flying ability, so they were reluctant to descend the cliff in darkness.
“Then I’ll take a look.”
It was then that that grating, unpleasant voice interjected.
“With just boards and puppets, I can confirm if there’s anyone else here besides us. I can pierce a heart in an instant, so there’s no problem.”
“How long will that take?”
Rutherford clicked his tongue in frustration. The Puppeteers of Tooluun possessed formidable abilities, but the preparation required was immense. They needed the precise location of their target, and a doll suited to the sorcery itself.
The more skilled the Puppeteer, the more effort they invested in the materials to ensure the sorcery took hold effectively. Even the talented Bagvan had taken months to manifest the Agiaar Barrier, from what I understood.
“Light the torches.”
At the repeated command, the Subordinates reluctantly ignited the torches and thrust their heads over the cliff’s edge. Gradually, the darkness receded and my vision brightened.
Barsabe watched the approaching light and muttered to herself.
‘Damn. Persistent bastard.’
But there was no choice. With no path to retreat, I could only charge forward.
The moment the light illuminated me, Barsabe swiftly seized the Mage Knight’s arm and hurled him over the cliff.
“Aaaahhh!”
The Mage Knight screamed and vanished into the darkness below the cliff.
Barsabe reversed that momentum to leap upward. Simultaneously, I clenched my teeth and unleashed my mana, charging toward Rutherford.
Crash!
Now that I could see clearly, there were six Mage Knights, five Mages. Beyond that, more than a dozen Puppeteers and ordinary Soldiers gathered together.
Barsabe crouched low and glanced back. Nothing but an empty wasteland stretched behind me. In short….
‘…I’m done for.’
That was the situation.

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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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