Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 588

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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 587
Fire. Owner
Captain Heil regarded Berik standing motionless with bewilderment. He had uttered only a single phrase—”It’s the same as back then”—before appearing to sink into another world entirely.
While Rutherford slowly rose to his feet and removed what had been clenched between his teeth, Berik remained vacant, his consciousness adrift. His pupils trembled as if perceiving something, yet Rutherford said nothing.
…If it wasn’t hallucination summoned by words—
‘Powder?’
Was it the powder’s doing? The fine particles suspended in the air?
Captain Heil decided it best to retreat first and attempted to pull Berik toward himself. But in that same instant, Rutherford cried out with a metallic screech.
“You won’t be able to move!”
“…!”
Rutherford wiped the blood from his lips and laughed. True to his words, Captain Heil could not move. He felt a weight as if something were gripping his ankles with tremendous force.
“Stand still and watch. Soon I’ll send you along with him.”
The sharp Idgal extended like a tree branch, stretching long. Rutherford thrust it without hesitation into Berik’s ribs, and Berik, helpless against it, tumbled to the ground.
From the tip of the Idgal piercing through flesh, Berik’s viscous blood dripped steadily.
“Berik!”
“Ugh….”
Berik was weeping. Not from physical pain, but crushed beneath the weight that the hallucination imposed upon him.
Captain Heil felt bewilderment, shock, and vague emotion as he glared at Rutherford.
Just a mortal. A human who had long since abandoned his magical power, now brainwashed by the Underworld Deity into believing his path was righteous. Yet could he truly become this strong merely by consuming Laromedia?
“Heil. Your magical power has been sealed.”
“Don’t be absurd.”
“Absurd? Does it seem like a jest? Then try it. Come at me while causing an explosion like that red dog bastard did!”
Whoosh!
Something felt blocked beneath my chest. True to his words, I had fallen captive to the hallucination that my magical power was sealed.
Rutherford, gripping a newly formed Idgal blade, walked slowly toward me. His gait was unsteady from Berik’s earlier strike.
“How did I even come this far….”
The moment his eyes gleamed and he raised the Idgal blade—
Zing! Zing!
Boom! Clang!
Something flashed and exploded before my eyes. It was Ian. His robes and hair fluttered lightly. Around him, fragments of the shattered Idgal blade glimmered.
Rutherford’s pupils dilated, blood vessels bursting, while Ian’s green eyes rippled coldly.
“Ian!”
Whoosh!
Rutherford retreated and barely regained his footing by lowering his stance, while Ian blocked the space before Captain Heil with cold eyes. Even as he did so, he glanced toward Berik collapsed on the ground.
“Ian. Rutherford consumed Laromedia. The red flower—Berik called it Silaskra. It causes hallucinations. You must be careful of his voice!”
“Ian!”
Be careful. It causes hallucinations.
The moment Ian heard those words, he lunged toward Rutherford. Restraint could not suppress the opponent’s tongue, and summoning Myriad Leaves or Inferno would make the space too confined. It would only endanger Ian and his colleagues instead.
“Rutherford.”
Then there was only one option: to subdue the enemy through physical force.
I flowed into my opponent’s embrace like a swimming fish, moving with fluid grace. Before Rutherford could even cry out—or rather, before he could decide what to say—I struck with decisive force.
Whoosh!
“…!”
I swung Idgal toward his neck, and Rutherford barely evaded it. Had he been even a moment slower, his throat would have been slit.
Unlike Berik, I had decided to cut out Rutherford’s tongue. Silencing his voice was the safest way to suppress this situation now.
Clang! Clang!
Blades collided endlessly, but the battle was decidedly one-sided. As I pressed forward, Rutherford could barely defend. Each of my attacks was potentially fatal, so he couldn’t afford to do anything but focus on the incoming strikes.
“Rutherford. I told you.”
“…You!”
“You’re walking down the wrong path. The god you believe in is merely a shadow of divinity—a demon daring to challenge divine authority. And—”
Clang!
Whenever Rutherford tried to speak, my attack intensified with overwhelming force. As if to say: shut up and listen.
In that instant, his right neck was cleanly sliced open and blood sprayed. But since his tongue remained intact, I continued my relentless assault.
“Your soul weathering away from repeating cursed deaths hundreds of times—that was ultimately the machinations of the Underworld Deity.”
“Shut up! Ian, you can’t move right now—!”
“You were revived from the abyss because I needed someone to act outside of Gaia. You’re a mage from Bariel, aren’t you? You knew the Imperial Palace well, and no one harbored deeper hatred than you.”
Whoosh!
I clamped his mouth shut and severed his shoulder. The scream trapped beneath my hand never escaped, fading into silence.
Rutherford breathed heavily and continued muttering something, but I couldn’t make out the words. Even if I could, it didn’t matter. I could always raise my blade again.
Swish.
Once I confirmed Rutherford was incapacitated, I finally turned my body. I wanted to check on Berik’s condition. His body had already been damaged during the war—his abdomen torn and ruptured—and the Idgal attack had finished him off completely. What worried me most was that his regenerative abilities might be compromised.
“Berik.”
I straightened his body and slowly shook him.
“Wake up. It’s me. Ian.”
After calling several times without response, Berik finally cracked his eyes open. Tears that had been pooling spilled out endlessly, and I furrowed my brow with concern.
…You saw the inner darkness too.
“Your tears are pooled. Get up once they stop flowing.”
“…Damn it, Ian. This is really annoying.”
As Berik curled up and muttered, I finally felt relief.
Then, Nakina and the other mages who had come to support entered deeper into the cave.
“Ian! There are no other enemies around!”
“Huh? It’s Rutherford!”
“Captain Heil! Are you alright? Why are you standing like that?”
“I’m caught in an illusion. I can’t move.”
“What? An illusion? Should we knock him out then?”
“Do we really have to carry him? Captain, can’t you break free somehow? How are we supposed to carry the captain?”
“Ian! The Imperial Guards have arrived, and it looks like things are being wrapped up topside!”
“Rutherford, you bastard! Remember me? Ten years ago, I owed you a lot then! I’ll pay you back with interest!”
Despite the mages’ shouts, Rutherford lay prone, barely gasping for breath. Something was wrong with his condition. Beyond the wounds I had inflicted, something was devouring him from within.
“Cough—!”
“Gasp! Ian!”
Dark crimson blood streamed endlessly from Rutherford’s mouth. Whether it was a side effect of Laromedia or Idgal, even he couldn’t tell.
He staggered to his feet, and the mages flinched, huddling closer together. It wasn’t so much that they feared Rutherford—it was this grotesque appearance that terrified them. Didn’t he look like a corpse?
“He’s… he’s gone mad.”
“Ian, w-what should we do?”
“Take Heil and Berik and get out.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
With that command, I drew the Idgal blade.
What could one who had fallen so completely fear? Rutherford spewed forth Idgal, his voice rough with anguished fury.
“How dare you, you worm!”
Crash!
Hundreds of tendrils of Idgal erupted from beneath his feet. The mages hastily erected barriers, but the confined space made it difficult to respond.
“How dare you keep making me into a false existence! The shadow of God? Arrogant bastard!”
“If that truly were a god, consider why it cannot emerge from beneath the chasm. It has limits because it is nothing but a demon itself.”
“Silence! The reason the God cannot exert full power is because of you Bariels!”
“Enough. I have no intention of convincing you. I will simply—”
As I dashed forward lightly, Rutherford screamed. Blood dripped steadily from beneath his jaw.
“Ian! Your heart will burst and you will die! You will be torn to shreds, your bones crushed to dust, leaving not a trace of you in this world!”
“Ian! You mustn’t listen!”
Alarmed, Heil shook off his subordinates’ hands and turned back. He limped, the hallucinations not yet fully cleared from his mind.
The mages seized Heil again and looked toward me, while Berik charged toward me.
“Ian!”
I felt my heart pounding rapidly, fiercely. Just as Rutherford said, it felt as though my heart would burst any moment.
But all of this was illusion. Looking at Heil and Berik, who had experienced this before, bearing no wounds save those from Idgal itself, it was clear that only psychological trauma was effective.
Whoosh!
I forced myself to ignore the heart’s pounding and lunged at Rutherford.
“You will die! You will die! Your heart will stop and tear, and you will die!”
What I would grant this hideous creature—not creating illusions but merely cursing like this—was only one thing.
“Death itself…”
Thump.
It tears. My heart tears…
I clenched my lower lip firmly and endured.
“Because of you, I have already experienced countless deaths in the abyss. Now that I know it isn’t real, I can endure it again and again. Even if it were… actual death.”
Boom!
As my heart sank, time seemed to stop. Overwhelming pain and loss engulfed me in an instant.
In that moment when I halted my steps, Rutherford, sensing his final opportunity, seized the Idgal blade again and lunged at me.
“Argh!”
Tap-tap-tap!
Clang! Screech!
But it was Berik who stood in his way. His side was torn open and he had no magical power left, yet he could still block Rutherford’s assault. The strength of both balanced, and the sound of grinding metal rang out.
“I—!”
“I told you! You, in front of me—!”
Crack!
Berik clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached, driving his sword upward. Then, squeezing every last ounce of strength from his body, he drove his fist into Rutherford’s abdomen.
“Gasp!”
“I’ll make you kneel!”
Boom!
Rutherford finally collapsed forward. Teetering on the edge of losing consciousness with even a single misstep in breathing, Rutherford focused his mind without uttering a sound.
But soon, a shadow fell over him.
“….”
“How fitting. Your place, where you should exist below with the Underworld Deity.”
Crack.
My heart still raced irregularly, but it was manageable. I could endure. I grasped Rutherford’s blood-soaked hair roughly and whispered.
“Did you ask what I am?”
“….”
“I am the same as you. Just as you move by the will of the Underworld Deity, I am here by the will of God.”
Rutherford’s consciousness dimmed gradually. The metallic, sweet scent he had felt when chewing Laromedia surged up suddenly.
“Ian Verosion. That is my name. The master of the empire you so desperately sought to destroy.”

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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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