Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 591

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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 590
Fire. Black Seed
“I know!”
Before Ian could even finish his question, one of the Mage Knights cried out at the top of his lungs. His body trembled violently as he muttered repeatedly that he knew the answer.
The man understood well that if Rutherford chose silence instead of answering this time, his own screams as the blade cut through them would surely fill that space. His neck would be severed soon enough—why fear losing a few limbs before that? Such foolishness.
Watching from a distance, Tweller clicked his tongue and lamented the lack of military spirit.
“I wonder what I’m about to ask.”
If he had stepped forward rashly, that too would bring him pain. Ian asked with eyes that hoped for a careful answer, and the man stammered his words cautiously.
“Y-you must be curious about where King Damon’s half-siblings went and w-why they went there, yes? I was responsible for their transport.”
“Their transport?”
“King Damon’s blood relatives were disposed of at a temple in a region called Masantar in Toollun. I didn’t witness it directly, but the pure white temple floor being drenched in blood was no ordinary occurrence. And the bodies—I believe they were incinerated within the temple.”
“Wait.”
Ian furrowed his brow and raised his hand. The raw testimony had come too suddenly.
“You mean they were used as sacrifices.”
“Since they were killed at the temple, yes, that would be the case.”
If it was a temple in Toollun, it could very well be a place that directly worshipped the Underworld Deity.
Now that I had learned the specific location, I needed to confirm what that sacrifice meant and what it was meant to bring. Something hidden beyond Damon’s return.
“Outsiders could not enter the inner sanctum.”
Damon had said his return was thanks to Rutherford. More precisely, it was thanks to the power of the Underworld Deity behind Rutherford, though Damon likely didn’t know that much.
In any case, there was a high possibility that something related to Damon’s return had occurred at the Masantar temple.
‘What could it be.’
As Ian’s eyes narrowed, Rutherford lifted his head. His expression was that of someone who had just realized something. Rutherford smiled at the corners of his mouth and asked Ian.
“Perhaps…”
“…”
“Were you deposed from the Emperor’s throne a hundred years hence?”
His words brought turmoil. Not only those who had heard the circumstances directly from Ian, but even the soldiers standing about in ignorance reacted with shock.
Rutherford, observing Ian’s expression, brightened with barely contained delight.
“Ah! It wasn’t Verosion’s name that became unnecessary—it was you! How else would you bring the Emperor to this place? If the Bariel of a hundred years past was precious, then the Bariel of a hundred years hence would be precious too!”
“Silence, you wretch!”
Tweller, unable to bear it any longer, thundered a roar, but could not stop Rutherford. Ian crossed his legs and remained silent, as if inviting him to continue.
“I shall tell you plainly. Bariel will walk only the path of endless decline from this point forward. You sought to block its beginning by reversing time thus, but alas. The second hand has already begun to move—can anyone truly stand against it?”
Ian Verosion? An Emperor abandoned even by the Bariel of a hundred years hence?
As Rutherford laughed as if possessed by madness, Tweller, Jairot, and others who knew Ian’s circumstances watched his expression carefully. He was the Emperor. None other. A person of such dignity that none dared look upon him with disrespect. Yet such insults.
“Count Ian—”
“The second hand moving means that something already beyond my grasp has become the key to rolling events forward.”
Ian paused, as if asking them to wait, and again interrupted Tweller’s words, muttering to himself. His tone was one of methodically organizing his complex thoughts.
‘While mentioning the Masantar temple, Rutherford recalled something and spoke thus. Then… the matter beyond my grasp must refer to the deaths of Damon’s siblings.’
Damon surrendered his siblings to the Underworld Deity in exchange for a third life. Yet I still don’t know if that’s true. Damon continued to seek death, but he still remains in his second life.
I reconsidered Rutherford’s line of thought. The deaths of Damon’s siblings would bring about Bariel’s decline, and moreover, would foretell Ian Verosion’s deposition…
“Wait.”
I rifled through the documents I’d brought from Bariel, then checked Timothy’s records.
It was when Damon was thirteen that he first discovered the half-siblings and reported them to Rutherford. That was twenty years ago.
‘Twenty years ago—’
Wasn’t that around the time Jin was born?
Black seeds. The sacrificed descendants of the Burgos royal family had been transformed into black seeds at the temple and planted within the Bariel imperial family. Arcen was one of them.
I suddenly recalled the imperial family that had declined over the past hundred years before my ascension.
‘Those with cruel dispositions who brought bloodshed to Bariel and were eventually purged by the Empress’s hand, those born so frail they died within three months of ascending, those so extravagant and wasteful they emptied the treasury in an instant, those so lacking in judgment they executed all their loyal subjects….’
There were too many. So many who had dragged the once-great Bariel to ruin that they were beyond counting.
Whether they were all demons like Arcen was difficult to say with certainty, but one thing was clear—they had brought darkness to the imperial family.
“…The imperial family is blessed by God.”
So to plant black seeds within it required special blood. The blood of royalty—sacred and precious blood.
At that very moment, there existed a man on the border of Bariel, killed by his own brother, who desperately sought special power for the throne. A man named Damon Runkvis.
All circumstances aligned perfectly.
There was no reason the Underworld Deity would not choose Burgos.
‘Then, was I also part of that process?’
To me, the black seed was Chroni. The seed grew into a massive ancient tree that strangled my breath, and in the end, I died without being able to cut it down.
Everything seemed to be gradually taking shape.
“Excuse me, Count Ian.”
At that moment, a Mage approached me and whispered.
“There’s a problem. I just checked the map, and there’s no region called Masantar in Toollun.”
At those words, I turned to look at the Mage Knight. Meeting my cold gaze without understanding, he hung his head and trembled.
“You said Masantar in Toollun.”
“Yes? Y-yes, that’s right.”
“But you’re saying there’s no such place as Masantar in Toollun.”
“What, what are you saying? Look more carefully! It’s definitely there. West of the capital, about four days by carriage. And from Burgos going north, it takes about ten to fifteen days.”
“You don’t seem like someone joking with their life on the line.”
“I’m not lying! It’s the truth! The map, give me the map!”
The man protested indignantly, jumping about. He’d traveled between Burgos and Masantar several times—how could they say such a thing?
The Mage handed him the map, and the man read off the place names with tension.
“Uh…. It, it should be around here.”
The spot he pointed to was blank space. Whether it was desert or mountain, one couldn’t tell.
When the Mage glared sharply, the Mage Knight appealed to me, saying he’d go mad at this rate.
“This is definitely the place! It’s a withered forest, and there’s a Gatekeeper village at the entrance. People who live protecting the temple. If you follow their guidance and cross through the forest for about an hour, you’ll reach the temple!”
“Count Ian. Just to be safe, shall we soak it in water and take it out?”
“What? Me?”
“Then, shall we soak the map in water and take it out?”
Since Bariel and Toollun had so little contact, even maps produced by the imperial family might be incomplete. Above all, no country ever revealed all their geographic information to foreign powers.
It would be nice to find a Toollun map at Agiar Castle, but so far we’ve had no luck.
“Very well.”
Based on the man’s specific account and the absence of contradictions, I judged he was telling the truth. I gestured for Akorelra to come closer, then covered my mouth and whispered.
“Akorelra. How long will it take to prepare the truth serum?”
“Hmm. Two days should suffice.”
“Imprison the author separately in the underground dungeon. After concealing the truth through the serum, I’ll have him executed separately.”
“Yes, understood.”
At Akorelra’s command, the mages seized the man’s arm. He had been certain his head would roll, yet they were sparing him? Truly? The man, unaware his reprieve lasted merely two days, bowed gratefully toward me with joy.
“I will spare your name from today’s execution ceremony.”
“Thank you! Thank you!”
The other Mage Knights who witnessed this fell into deep contemplation. They had revealed nothing extraordinary—merely what they knew—yet escaped death. Should they not remain silent, but add something, anything, to their confessions? If they could beg for their lives, what did anything else matter?
“Rutherford. On the day we forged our magical contract, you gave Silasque to the bastard Ian. Where did it come from, and why did you give it?”
“Ask your precious god directly.”
His expression suggested everything would be easily resolved if I did so—yet why did he keep asking me? Had the god not responded? As Rutherford answered thus, another Mage Knight added his words.
“I-I’m not certain what happened then, but the unfading crimson flower can occasionally be obtained from Toollun. Perhaps its habitat is nearby, as the item circulates through word of mouth.”
“I will answer as well! Ask me anything!”
“Yes, if you’ll only spare our lives, what does it matter? I’ll tell you everything. Not a single lie.”
Rutherford cast a sidelong glance at his subordinates, who had so swiftly changed their allegiance. How pathetic. These were men who had sworn they would sacrifice their very lives for him, yet standing beside Ian, the god’s influence seemed to fade. Had he known, he would have ordered them all to leap from the cliff’s edge that night days ago.
“That’s right! Anything we know!”
“I wish to hear of our ally, Ruswena.”
“It is Idgal. Since Bariel manages Idgal entirely through the rift suppressor, Ruswena harbored intense resentment toward him. Unlike before, the imperial palace now has many mages, yet they are completely restricted from accessing Idgal and the mana-sealing stones, so the royal family faces considerable risk, does it not?”
“I already know why Ruswena joined hands with Rutherford. There is testimony that the black armor Ruswena provided differs slightly from before. Does anyone know of this?”
“Black armor? W-we don’t know that much-”
“War preparations with Cliffford were underway. While Burgos and Bariel were in the north, naturally they were preparing for the southern power struggle. For that war advantage, I suspect all quality black armor was retained in Ruswena.”
“The last contact said they were also in contact with Hawanguk! King Eldetr was said to be conducting talks with their king, but after that, we know nothing!”
I wished to inquire further into Hawanguk’s internal affairs, but could not broach the subject carelessly. With Prime Minister Shatima’s rebellion scheduled to determine the nation’s fate, there were too many ears listening to speak here.
Whoosh.
Just as I was about to continue the interrogation by turning over documents, Rutherford suddenly began coughing blood, and the volume was so severe that my brow furrowed involuntarily.
“What’s happening to him?”
“I’m uncertain. It doesn’t appear to be external.”
“Could it be a side effect of Laromedia? The hallucinations may have ceased, but the side effects could persist.”
“Cough-”
“How troublesome. Summon a Healing Mage.”
At my command, the servants moved urgently, and Rutherford breathed heavily, bowing his head. He sensed instinctively that his life was fading.
Yet he could bear it gladly—even joyfully—
-Pour it out endlessly. Your blood will stain Bariel crimson.
Because of the god’s final voice, bestowed upon him.
Soon the Healing Mage arrived, and not long after, Barsabe entered as well.

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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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