Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 596

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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 595
Fire. Heads
Messengers from nearby cities gathered at the collapsed barrier of Agiar, awaiting the Emperor’s response. A chill ran down their spines at the thought that their own cities might soon suffer the same fate.
But that anxiety was short-lived. As the waiting stretched on, the tension gradually dissolved into boredom.
Wasn’t this taking longer than expected? No matter how critical the matter, all of Bariel’s key decision-makers were assembled inside. There was no need for unnecessary deliberation.
“…I think we should depart once the sun reaches the edge of the sky.”
“I agree. Darkness is always dangerous.”
“I wish you safe travels.”
“And you as well. Please hold the barrier to the very end.”
“As Burgos soldiers, let us uphold justice.”
As the messengers exchanged brief farewells, shadows fell across the barrier’s upper reaches. Mages had crossed beyond the barrier through the sky path.
What did they carry in their hands? Nothing. One of the messengers who saw this cried out loudly.
“We are prepared to receive the response!”
The cry carried an unmistakable meaning: surrender what we demand without resistance.
The Mage descended lower, then gestured for them to follow inside.
“Come within.”
“…Inside?”
“The Minister of Magic will answer you directly. Given the deep entanglement between Rutherford and Bariel’s circumstances, it was judged that this could not be conveyed in writing. Well, if you fear it, I won’t force you, but isn’t it your mission to carry back Bariel’s position?”
Those who wish to leave may do so. But without understanding Bariel’s stance, survival in any form would prove difficult going forward.
The messengers, grasping the meaning, unconsciously gripped their reins tightly and exchanged cautious glances. The first to step forward and follow the Mage was a messenger from Purpato, southeast of Agiar.
“Ahem.”
The messengers slowly filed in one by one, crossing over the collapsed Agiar barrier and entering inside.
What they had thought would be quiet and peaceful was short-lived. They discovered several severed heads displayed in the distance.
“…What is that!”
“Unfortunately, it has come to this.”
“What do you mean?”
The Mage flew slowly toward them and spoke.
“It means you are too late. The Minister will explain the details directly, so take note of how the Agiar residents are being treated. Bariel is handling them humanely.”
The severed heads hanging there were truly horrific. Some had died with their eyes open, others with faces twisted in anguish, and still others had met their end in quiet repose.
Blood dripped steadily from the severed necks of each one. They had clearly been cut down not long ago.
“This way, please.”
‘Bastards deserve to die. The castle master has already been decided.’
The way he guided them made it feel as though this place had always belonged to Bariel.
The messengers bit their lower lips hard and entered with heightened vigilance. Bariel’s military strength was useful information to report back to their own forces.
‘There aren’t as many injured as I expected.’
‘Their complexions look good too. Is food abundant?’
‘Gasp! There are other Mages. Quite a considerable number of them.’
Knock, knock.
“Minister Ian. I have brought the messengers.”
“Listen.”
From the moment they crossed the barrier, the messengers’ expectations had been subtly off the mark. But they had never been caught off guard quite like this. The one who greeted them was merely a boy, appearing to be no more than sixteen years old.
He gestured forward with a nod, then granted them all permission to sit.
“You are messengers from Legendre, Biera, Jar, and Purpato respectively, I take it.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“I have confirmed what you seek. But what can I do? You have arrived too late.”
“Too late, you say….”
“Rutherford has been executed along with his conspirators. If you ask the residents of Agiar, you will learn that we had set this very hour for the execution. The fault lies with you for your delayed response.”
The negotiations had collapsed. Bariel’s side would not fulfill their proposal. Whether intentional or not, the outcome was clear.
As the messengers’ faces darkened, I snapped my fingers.
“Do you know what Rutherford looks like?”
“No, we do not.”
At those words, I furrowed my brow and signaled. A Mage then brought forth a silver casket and stood beside me.
“None of you? How troublesome. Then who will verify the corpse?”
“We shall first convey the current situation to our lord.”
“Very well. Since Rutherford is already dead, tell your lord that Bariel wishes to reconcile with you through other means. And let me add one more thing—”
Whoosh.
I personally poured each of them a cup of water before continuing.
“Bariel will soon depart Agiar and head south. Our destination is Kalamat, the capital of Burgos. The journey is long, and we wish to lighten our burden however we can. It would be most unfortunate if trivial matters such as executions were to delay our departure, would it not?”
This was a warning: do not interfere carelessly, for I will be meeting the Royalists directly. Before you cleverly turn your heads toward the Royalist faction in calculation, you must face the enormous force that is Bariel. If you fail to grasp this, the heads that decorate this street will soon adorn your cities as well.
A stark contrast emerged between those who understood and those who did not. The former concealed their alarm in silence and gauged the atmosphere, while the latter pressed forward with questions to extract information.
“Is Rutherford truly dead?”
“I find it hard to believe. Show us.”
I turned my head to the side and gave the order. The Mage opened the casket’s lid.
Inside lay a gruesome head. The face was so damaged it was difficult to identify. The messengers covered their mouths with their sleeves and retched, while I narrowed my brow in displeasure.
“I have shown you the corpse itself, so you must not add another word. Do you understand?”
At my direct words, several messengers felt as though they had been struck on the back of the head. Had I not shown them, they might have questioned the matter later. But having seen the head of this unknown person, Bariel’s side had now secured justification.
This will not do. If we remain here any longer, we will surely be forced to concede even more.
“We shall take our leave now.”
“You are from Purpato?”
“Yes, as we are the farthest away, if we do not depart now, we will be forced to spend the night in the mountains. We cannot neglect such grave news that affects the fate of so many.”
I raised my chin to indicate they could do as they pleased.
“I hope Bariel will not have to linger in Purpato.”
“…We beg your pardon.”
The messenger bowed respectfully instead of answering, then hurried from the room. The other messengers, realizing their mistake, scrambled after him.
After they all departed, the Mages who had been staring at the corpse’s head roughly closed the lid and glanced toward the door.
“Those ones don’t seem like they’ll leave quietly. Wouldn’t it be better to reduce their numbers beforehand?”
“Ugh, close that lid properly. It reeks of rot.”
“Ebi! Take it away at once. It offends Ian’s eyes.”
“Ian, shall we let them go as is? Some of them seemed not to understand. Perhaps it would be better to send a written warning with them.”
I slowly examined the map of Burgos, then pointed to Purpato. I then traced the shortest route from Agiar to that location.
“There’s no need to concern ourselves with the other cities. As the saying goes, one example reveals ten truths. Purpato serves as the central hub in the surrounding region, and from what I can tell, the Messenger possesses sound judgment and composed action—we can expect their military strength to be reliable. Once we safely pass through Purpato, reaching Kalamata, the capital, should be swift.”
“Even if we reach Kalamata and seize the royal palace, will the Royalists truly surrender without resistance?”
“That’s right. From the way those bastards are scheming right now, it looks like they’re consolidating forces—Bariel sympathizers and all.”
“Rather than just taking Purpato, shouldn’t we solidify control over everything before moving forward? I’m uneasy about advancing with only Agiar and Purpato secured.”
“Why are you uneasy?”
“If they press in from both above and below simultaneously, won’t we be overwhelmed?”
Why ask something so obvious? That’s precisely why the higher-ups concluded in their meeting that we need to firmly secure Agiar and its surroundings before proceeding.
“…There are also our allies beneath the Royalists.”
“Pardon?”
The Royalists are positioned south of Burgos.
But Bariel exists beneath them too? What does that even mean? The Mages exchanged glances as if asking what he meant, but no one offered a clear answer.
Instead of responding, Ian rose from the sofa with a gesture suggesting they shouldn’t worry, and walked toward the door.
“That corpse was disgraced for Bariel’s sake. Arrange a proper funeral for it.”
“Ah, yes, of course.”
“Where are you going, sir?”
Ever since hearing the news of Philia’s disappearance, their concern had grown with each of Ian’s actions. To this, Ian shook his head, indicating they understood his heart well enough and needn’t worry.
“The underground dungeon.”
Creeeeak.
Thud.
Once Ian departed, the Mages remained still for a moment before sprawling across the sofa, muttering among themselves.
“Ian’s mood seems quite poor, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. His eyes are different, aren’t they? His eyes.”
“By the way, have we ever sent people to the Royalists? I still don’t understand what he meant earlier. When he said ‘beneath the Royalists’—does he mean we actually have allies stationed south, or does it mean we’ve planted spies within the Royalist faction? I’m lost.”
“Hmm. Was there someone who went from Bariel to Burgos?”
“From Bariel to Burgos? Ah, ah!”
One Mage stood up suddenly as if understanding, and the others huddled around him. He pointed with his chin at a head resting in a box and made a proposal.
“If you tell us, exempt me from handling that.”
“Damn. This bastard isn’t a Mage—he’s a merchant.”
“Yeah. A merchant, that’s right.”
“Fine, go ahead and speak. What does Ian mean?”
“A merchant, I’m saying. Someone who went from Bariel to Burgos. Especially someone who frequently conducted business with the Royalists—that’s a strong possibility.”
The Mages blinked, then recalled a specific person and murmured.
“…Princess Kaila?”
* * *
Ian descended to the deepest level of the underground dungeon.
A cold, chill-laden place reeking of blood—an unpleasant space. The floor was a mess of bloodstains, though darkness made them indistinguishable.
“Damn it! I left the Luron Stone behind!”
“Captain, you don’t need to use that, I’m telling you. Since when have we been using Luron Stone?”
“The effect is far superior, you idiot. Even a fool should know when to keep his mouth shut. Go fetch the Luron Stone!”
“Obstinacy should be legally prohibited too. How are we supposed to find that here? Why don’t you go to Bariel yourself and get it!”
“Is there a problem?”
As Akorelra and her subordinates bickered loudly, I approached. I had set up a simple desk to serve as a makeshift laboratory, but the materials were so meager that the whole setup looked crude.
“Ian. Do you have any Luronstone?”
“You’re asking ridiculous questions, Captain. Please. And you don’t need Luronstone to make the Freezing Elixir anyway. Seriously.”
Freezing Elixir.
A potion that halts the body while keeping one alive. The previous Emperor had possessed it, and since Akorelra was essentially making it for the first time, there had been disagreements about the process.
What had been used before was something the Emperor had secretly instructed Wesley, the former Minister of Magic, to create, so it fell outside Akorelra’s purview.
“I’ve made antidotes before! Listen to me!”
“You’ve never made a Freezing Elixir!”
“Ugh, are we really doing this?”
“Bring it on. I’d rather just settle this with a fight.”
I turned away from the commotion and peered deeper into the prison. There, Rutherford lay unconscious, still bound at all four limbs.

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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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