Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 594

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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 593
Fire. Katimako’s Prediction
Twing!
“Ah.”
At the sound of the puppet string snapping, Kumasha, King of Toollun, opened his eyes slightly.
A white unmarked puppet hung by a single thread, barely holding on. It was the last string connected to the Mage Knight’s two eyes.
I had heard that Astana, a minority ethnic group, participated in the Agiare battle, but I never expected a Puppeteer to be mixed among them.
“Are you well?”
“It’s unfortunate. I severed all the strings except for the eyes. It seems he’ll be wearing an eye patch for a while, so perhaps he’ll become a useless piece?”
“We cannot know yet. In any case, the connection remains, does it not? Surely there will come a time when he proves useful.”
“True? Should I take satisfaction in binding one of the Imperial Guards? In any case, the rumors were accurate. Emperor Bariel had silver hair and blue eyes. I could only see half of him, so I couldn’t gauge how severe the wound was.”
Kumasha stretched languidly and surveyed the surroundings.
A massive miniature panorama of Agiare spread out around me. Not only the structure, but even the brick colors and wood were reproduced as accurately as possible.
Sitting in the very center of it all was like a giant who had fallen from the sky. The Boy bent at the waist and pulled out a long needle wedged between the shattered window frames.
“Just one more second and I could have finished it.”
“It seems the time was not yet right.”
“Is that so? And the Minister of Magic, Ian Hielo, was it? I was surprised—he looked far younger than I expected.”
“Is he also as the rumors describe? They said he had blonde hair and green eyes.”
“Yes, that’s right. He was so radiant and beautiful that it was hard to believe he was a man. Quite lovely.”
The Boy’s giggling laughter echoed lonely through the vast hall. There were countless things in human form, yet none to respond. Even the Advisor standing beside him kept his head bowed and remained silent, pretending not to hear.
“….”
Kumasha must not laugh aloud or weep, for as the living God and absolute ruler of Toollun, the mythology held that if his existence showed emotion, the world would grow dizzy.
The Boy surveyed the surroundings with pale pink eyes and strode forward, seizing the first puppet that came to hand.
Squelch!
Then, with all his strength, he ruthlessly stabbed the dagger into its face and abdomen. As the stuffing burst and the bound strings snapped, another puppet followed, then another, and another….
“Haa, haa….”
Behind the Boy lay dozens of tattered puppets. Bellies ripped open, necks broken, limbs torn off—they had become garbage. Those connected to them must have died without ever knowing why.
At the Advisor’s glance, Servants entered and cleared away the broken puppets, and Kumasha, having vented some of his frustration, threw himself onto the pile of puppets.
‘How tedious.’
Certainly, life within the palace was more comfortable than outside it, but the more comfortable it became, the more unbearable tedium washed over Kumasha in waves of anger. Kumasha gathered an armful of puppets and asked.
“Is the background construction proceeding well?”
“Yes, it is progressing without issue. It will be completed before Bariel approaches the vicinity, so there is no need for excessive concern.”
It was a grand undertaking that had been underway for ages. Not only I, but the previous Kumasha, and the Kumasha before that—all had dedicated themselves to creating the ‘Toollun Miniature Background’ underground.
Once it was completed, Kumasha and his kind would truly become gods on this land of Toollun. I could see everywhere from where I sat, instantly deliver divine punishment, and bestow inexplicable death upon humans, just as I had done moments ago.
“I wish time would hurry and pass.”
Kumasha murmured thus and buried his face in the puppets. If only the great underground background would be completed soon, and Bariel’s vast army would march toward Toollun. Then, perhaps, this tedious and boring daily existence would be graced with blood-tinged joy.
Knock knock.
“Pardon the intrusion, Your Highness.”
Just then, the sound of a Servant came from outside. I merely tilted my head and looked toward the door, and the Servant opened it while extending only his hand. It was the law that those of base birth below nobility must not see Kumasha directly with their own eyes.
The Advisor accepted the golden tray on his behalf.
“A letter from Bariel, then.”
“Read it to me. I have no desire to do anything right now.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Crack.
The Advisor breezed through the brief message, then smiled as though bearing good news.
“We have secured Philia, the mother of Ian Hielo, Minister of Magic. It appears she has not yet escaped Bariel.”
Oho. That was certainly pleasant to hear. Kumasha wiggled her toes and murmured contentedly.
“Have her brought to Toollun at once. If Ian Hielo truly resembles his mother, I find myself quite anticipating this. Which puppet would suit her best?”
This one? Or that one? The Boy tossed several puppets aside before discovering a golden-haired, green-eyed doll buried beneath the pile. It was perfectly fitting.
The satisfaction that bloomed across Kumasha’s face had entirely dispelled the irritation from moments before.
* * *
“The nation of Toollun differs somewhat from the conventional form of country we generally understand.”
Katimako sipped his tea while observing me. We had clearly stepped out of the dim interior into a brightly lit space, yet strangely, my complexion appeared even colder and darker. Strange—had something happened during our walk through the corridor?
At Katimako’s opening remarks, I nodded as though I already grasped the matter.
“A nation where the king is elected, I presume.”
“Pardon? Truly? Is such a thing possible?”
“The people of Toollun believe that a god they worship manifests in the body of a human girl to rule Toollun. To recognize the existence of divinity through human eyes, certain conditions must be fulfilled. The child they discover through these criteria is elevated to the throne and given the name ‘Kumasha.'”
“Precisely, Ian. You understand correctly. All kings of Toollun throughout history have been called Kumasha. There have been troubles caused by those attempting to usurp power from time to time, but that is not the matter at hand now.”
Katimako pushed his teacup aside and continued.
“I speak of those who placed sorcery upon Barsabe’s unit. I believe I heard they were reinforcements sent from Toollun—is that correct?”
“Yes. It was confirmed during the interrogation of Rutherford and his associates.”
“Then there is something you should know. My suspicion is that Kumasha, the king of Toollun, may well be a Puppeteer.”
The king of Toollun is a Sorcerer?
At this unexpected statement, I raised my eyebrows. Whoever had passed their criteria to become king surely possessed something extraordinary, I had reasoned.
Yet nothing was known of those criteria. Whether it was merely something special in religious interpretation or something special in ability itself required further investigation.
“…What leads you to that conclusion?”
“Well, first, regarding the nested puppets I mentioned earlier. For someone to inherit and receive another’s power, they must possess at least equal strength or superior ability.”
“I understand the principle.”
“There was a Puppeteer supervisor named Bagvan, but he is dead. Yet the nested puppets remained effective—this means another Sorcerer with power exceeding his must be stationed in Toollun.”
“But that does not confirm such a Sorcerer is the king of Toollun, does it? Could they not be a subordinate of the king, just as Bagvan was?”
When a Mage who had been listening raised his hand with curiosity, Katimako shook his head.
“Nested puppets are far more powerful than one might think. Compared to magic, they are nearly equivalent to forbidden magic. Would there exist a king in this world who commands not one but two such powerful beings? No matter how firmly a king is established upon religious faith… I doubt it.”
Not merely a Sorcerer, but a Puppeteer—one who can manipulate and control the bodies and minds of people. Those at the center of power would have no choice but to regard and guard against such beings with utmost caution, would they not?
“And had such a powerful being existed in Toollun, word would surely have spread beyond its borders.”
“Could it not be possible that the nation’s closed nature keeps such knowledge hidden?”
“Closed though it may be, the royal authority itself is far too strong and firmly established. It would be difficult to explain such a phenomenon through division. And most decisively, my reasoning for believing the king of Toollun is a Puppeteer lies elsewhere.”
Swish.
Katimako began to write something down, searching his memory.
“Unlike Bariel, Astana is relatively close to Toollun. And there are several of us, myself included, who have visited Toollun in pursuit of scholarly advancement. Though I never had audience with the king, I did hear certain conditions regarding Kumasha at that time.”
-1. A pure voice that conveys the will of the divine directly.
2. The perspective to view even a small part of the world on a grand scale.
3. The wondrous power to command the people….
Everything written below that was based on external criteria.
I immediately grasped that the implications contained within the passage were quite subtle.
“From the first to the third, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to attribute them as the qualities of a Puppeteer.”
Had it been another time, I might have simply thought it was established based on religious values, but not now. In a situation where everyone was fixated on Puppeteers, every interpretation pointed in that direction.
“That’s correct. I didn’t assign any particular meaning to it either, but when I suddenly recalled it and thought it over, it does seem curious. Considering various circumstances, there’s a possibility that Toollun’s King might be a Puppeteer.”
The Mages folded their arms or rested their chins in thought. Either way, they were going to destroy him—whether Toollun’s King was a Puppeteer or a puppet master didn’t really matter.
However, what became problematic was Barsabe’s perspective. If it was certain that the King was connected to this, they could seek solutions through diplomatic means as well.
“How do we find traces of a Puppeteer?”
“It’s not difficult. Puppeteers keep their puppets close by, so they’re quite conspicuous. Didn’t Berik immediately suspect Bagvan without even confirming him as a suspicious figure?”
“Perhaps, aside from that, do they leave traces like magical power or something similar? Do you have any advice on investigation methods?”
“Well, I’m not sure exactly what you’re referring to.”
“Philia has gone missing.”
Crash!
The Mage moving the teacup shattered it. Simultaneously, the others did the same. They froze in place, their eyes blinking wide as they even forgot to breathe.
Katimako looked bewildered at the Mages’ sudden change in reaction, turning his head left and right.
“P-Philia? Who is she?”
“My mother.”
“Ah. Your mother. What? Your mother has gone missing? Isn’t she in Bariel?”
“She is. That’s precisely why it’s so puzzling. Burgos, Ruswena, and even Hawan—all the neighboring countries with suspicion lack the capability, and there’s no reason for them to kidnap a mere Minister’s mother. If anything, they would have acted against the Imperial Palace instead.”
Then where else could it be?
The force most likely to target my mother would be the Underworld Deity’s faction. It was a natural inference that Toollun, which could be considered that creature’s stronghold, was the most suspicious.
“P-Philia! She’s been kidnapped?!”
“This is driving me mad! What is this situation? Is it truly real? Ian! What could have happened to Philia?”
“These damn madmen! How dare they lay hands on her! She was, what?! An angel descended from the heavens!”
“This bastard still harbors resentment from back then. Ian, we should deal with this one first.”
“No! Everyone, this is not the time for idle chatter. What about Romandro? Is he alright?”
“If he were alright, he wouldn’t have sent a letter?”
“Oh no, what do we do? Ian! What do we do?”
The Mages made a commotion as if something had happened to their own mother. Even Heil, who seemed unlikely to panic under normal circumstances, wrinkled his nose and bit down on his cigarette.
I gestured for everyone to compose themselves and asked Katimako again.
“So then, I need a way to investigate. Is there anything you could help with?”

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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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