Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 583

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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 582
Fire. A Field in Darkness
The surroundings blazed as bright as midday.
Thus, I could see clearly not only Barsabe sprawled in a pool of blood, the Puppeteers gathered with greedy expressions, but even Rutherford backing away.
Is he alone? The Mage Knights drew their blades, and the Ruswena Mages retreated backward as before, attempting to observe from a distance. As if they had no intention of wasting strength on unnecessary combat.
Whoosh!
But the moment Jairot, Heil, and Nakina soared up from below the cliff and appeared, the Ruswena Mages frowned in dismay.
Surely they were Bariel’s Mages. These persistent bastards hadn’t stopped pursuing even through the night. Their presence here meant that their commander, Ian Hielo, could arrive at any moment.
“Barsabe!”
“Nakina, protect her. I’m going to channel my mana into Barsabe.”
“Yes, understood, Captain.”
Jairot’s white shirt was instantly stained red and black as he embraced Barsabe. Was she dead? Was she breathing? Jairot pressed his ear to her face, concentrating to catch any sound of breath. But it was far too faint and shallow—he heard nothing.
Was it being drowned out by the wind? Yes. It had to be. Not that I couldn’t hear it, but that it was being obscured.
“Captain Jairot. Please step aside for a moment.”
Zing. Zing.
Heil grasped Barsabe’s hand without hesitation and channeled his mana into her. Her hand was bitterly cold. Like holding a corpse. But he maintained his composure, focusing on flowing his mana through her.
“I asked you, you bastards. What did you do to her?”
“Eeek! W-we know nothing of it!”
“Lord Rutherford, p-please do something!”
“Two Mages, two Mage Knights.”
“Listen, Ruswena! Isn’t this enough? Don’t think about backing out—help us. Or you’ll die. By us or by them.”
Berik swept his sharp gaze across them. The cocky bastards on the left were Mage Knights, and the ones standing pompously in the back right were Ruswena Mages.
And between them, an instinctively repulsive aura. Berik pointed at him with his blade and muttered.
“Damn it, so you’re Rutherford.”
Long, flowing hair, bronze skin, and an infuriating face to boot. Berik rolled up his sleeves and laughed.
“I’ve only heard your name so many times it’s stuck in my ears, but seeing you like this is a first. Happy? I’ve really wanted to see you.”
“I don’t know who you are.”
“I’m Berik. Ian’s friend.”
“Ah, Ian Hielo?”
“Because of you, damn it! I’ve been running around for ten years!”
Whoooosh!
As Berik surged forward with force in his feet, flames erupted around him.
The Mage Knights, sensing his formidable power, moved left and right to block in front of Rutherford.
“And many of our people died!”
“Block! Right side!”
“Gasp! This bastard… why is he so fast?”
“I’ve been suffering since I left home! I was frustrated I couldn’t see your face once, but today I’m settling it all!”
“Ahhhhh! Help!”
“Wait right there with your neck ready! I’ll cut it clean!”
Clang! Clang!
Whoosh!
Berik cleaved through the Mage Knight blocking his path with a satisfying arc, letting out a shout. Were those bandages wrapped around his abdomen merely decorative? His injuries looked serious, yet his strength was astounding.
The Ruswena Mages nodded to each other and threw what little mana remained into the fray.
“Ruswena! We didn’t finish things during the day, did we?!”
Crack!
As a whip-shaped manifestation of mana flew toward Berik’s exposed back, Nakina deflected it lightly, shielding him.
The situation was turning dire. The Puppeteers began backing away slowly, then broke into a run across the vast plains. While the Mage Knights and Mages bought them time, they intended to hide beneath the cliff.
“Run, run! Escape!”
“There’s a new cliff edge below!”
“Ugh! Damn it. I knew I didn’t want to come out.”
Fear filled the Puppeteers’ minds, but only one goal remained: to return alive to Toollun.
But in that moment—
The sky flashed, and a massive beam of light crashed down before them.
Boom!
Crackle! Snap!
Lightning from a clear sky.
As the Puppeteers spun around in terror, they saw Captain Jairot standing there, cold sweat dripping down his face, breathing heavily as he glared at them.
“Is… is that old man a Mage Knight too?”
“He looks like he’s in the worst condition though.”
“What should we do?”
“If you step forward, I’ll help.”
“No, if you step forward, I’ll help!”
“Shut up!”
As the Puppeteers chattered and pushed each other’s backs, Captain Jairot’s thunderous roar descended upon them. He kept glancing at the battered Barsabe, his trembling voice barely concealed.
“Tell me exactly what you did to Barsabe. If you don’t, next time I’ll grind your heads in half.”
It was horrifying. Losing other team members pained him, but at least they had died honorably in combat.
But Barsabe’s condition was far from honorable—it was marked by humiliation and shame. Captain Jairot could not bear to see his subordinate and his friend’s daughter meet such an end.
“Lord Rutherford!”
The Puppeteers’ eyes darted around before they bolted toward Rutherford, as if to say: you ordered this, so you handle it.
But the Mage Knights and Mages were too occupied holding back Berik and Nakina, and Rutherford simply stood there as if his soul had left his body.
“Lord Rutherford!”
Everyone’s cries rippled through his mind. His stomach churned as if he’d swallowed saltwater, and blood rushed to his head.
Rutherford clutched his pounding heart and called upon God. Just as he had in the abyss, he begged for salvation, but the prayer caught in his throat and would not emerge.
“You bastard!”
In an instant, Berik charged at Rutherford with gritted teeth, and Rutherford reflexively raised both hands, creating Idgal.
Crack!
Small crystals jutting out like awls grazed Berik’s earlobe as he passed. Blood trickled down slightly, and through that tiny wound, Berik felt his strength draining away.
Berik clutched his injured ear in shock, but only for a moment—
Rutherford continued creating Idgal unconsciously and pressed forward. While his long robes fluttered softly with each punch, his eyes were completely vacant.
“Berik! Be careful! I’ve been hit by that before—I know!”
Nakina cried out upon grasping the situation, but even she froze in bewilderment upon seeing Rutherford’s expression.
That look—it was as if a man stripped of his soul moved by pure instinct alone. An empty husk thrashing about in its desperate struggle to live.
Berik clicked his tongue in annoyance, while Rutherford remained severed from the outside world, his mind increasingly consumed by chaos.
“What a pathetic fake.”
Ian was handling everything, wasn’t he?
Berik drew the sword from his waist, leaving behind the steadily fading mana. A blade alone would suffice to cut through something like this.
‘What did he say?’
Meanwhile, Rutherford’s brow furrowed at Berik’s whisper.
A fake? Me? What am I?
If anything, wasn’t Ian the fake? Wearing a shell of green eyes over his true blue-eyed form, yet he dared call me a fake?
“Then come and test it yourself. Whether this is real or fake—your body will learn soon enough.”
Clang! Clang!
Rutherford’s eyes gleamed as he continued conjuring Idgals from his fingertips. They poured forth in succession like a swarm of flies. Not particularly threatening, but annoyingly persistent—Berik glared at him with irritation.
Screech!
Blade met blade, and as the two drew close, Berik stared at him before spitting directly in his face. Ptui! A blatantly contemptuous gesture.
“…!”
His reaction was more subdued than expected, but unmistakable. Rutherford, caught between indignation and fury, conjured even larger Idgals.
“What? Upset?”
“…I swear this much. I’ll tear you to shreds and cast you down the cliff.”
“You sure talk a lot about running away. Playing the noble lord, how pathetic. You swore, didn’t you? I’ll make a vow too.”
Screech!
Berik’s crimson eyes gleamed with amusement. With each clash of blades, blood pumped and excitement surged through him. And his opponent was Rutherford, no less….
I’ll capture this bastard alive and present him to Ian. Thus, I’ll fill even a fraction of the emptiness I’ve felt these past ten years.
“I’ll make you kneel before Ian.”
The humiliation Ian had endured before the Mages.
“Let’s see you try. Understood? Fail, and you forfeit your life.”
Repaying in kind would be insufficient—I’ll return it tenfold. That’s how the world works, isn’t it?
Rutherford’s pupils trembled, yet the corners of his mouth slowly rose.
‘Death will suffice.’
A curse he’d endured hundreds, thousands of times. From Bandor to Rutherford—what difference would one more death make?
Even if everything Rutherford had accomplished now was suited to threaten Bariel, this wouldn’t be the only opportunity.
There would be a next time. There would be.
Desperately, there would be….
-The cliff.
“…!”
Rutherford trembled at the voice resonating in his ears. A divine revelation. The God had extended his hand once more to show him a way through.
Moved by emotion, but only briefly—Berik’s fist came crashing down.
Crack!
His body tumbled and his senses reeled, but Rutherford braced himself against the ground, spreading Idgals like a barrier before him. A warning not to approach. Simultaneously, dark crimson blood dripped steadily from his nose and mouth.
“I didn’t even hit that hard.”
“A lowly creature who knows nothing.”
“So you got beaten by someone like that?”
Ptooey! Rutherford spat blood with a laugh as though it were second nature, his white teeth stained crimson—like witnessing the manifestation of a demon itself.
But in that moment, he felt his own life being consumed as the price for creating Idgal.
“Huh?”
As Rutherford stumbled backward, Berik’s brow furrowed. What was he trying to do now—but before the thought could fully form—
Heil, who was protecting Barsabe, cried out.
“Berik! Stop him!”
“Ah! Got it!”
He was throwing himself off the cliff.
He might lose his life, but for now it was the only way to shake off pursuit. Unless one of the Ruswena Mages resorted to forbidden magic, there were no other options.
Whoosh!
“Berik!”
“You madman!”
Rutherford threw himself after the voice of God without hesitation, and Berik followed immediately in his wake.
Nakina cried out in shock but couldn’t follow. She was simultaneously holding back the opposing Mage Knight and the Mages.
Boom!
“What… what is that?”
A massive tremor echoing from far below the earth.
Nakina lowered her stance, and her opponents also fell silent, wary.
Booom!
“Damn it, what is this! Captain Jairot! Captain Heil! What do we do in a situation like this?”
“Captain Heil, please escort Barsabe to Agiar first. I will handle things here. I ask for your cooperation.”
“No, I’m staying too. Nakina! You take Barsabe and go. She needs treatment immediately. There’s barely any unmarred flesh left on her.”
“Captain!”
“I will not hear objections. I am your captain.”
When Heil spoke with finality, Nakina hoisted Barsabe onto her shoulder and took flight.
Then Jairot pointed toward the cliff below and instructed Heil.
“Since you can fly freely, please watch over what’s below the cliff. I will hold these men off.”
“Understood.”
Berik, that damned mutt.
Both thought the same thing as they split front and back. Things were nearly at a stalemate, but the enemy’s numbers were overwhelmingly superior. And Jairot was in rough condition.
But still, it was manageable.
No—they could do it.
Zing!
Zing!
As he drew his lightning sword and wiped the sweat from his jaw, a buffalo horn’s call echoed from far away.
Buuuu—
Buuu—
Bariel’s scouts. Leading them was a man whose gray hair suited the darkness about him well—
“Surround them!”
It was Xiaoxi.

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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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