Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 64

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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 64. Because It’s the Borderlands
“Listen.”
As the end of the alley came into view, the assassins made their move. They stopped their quiet pursuit and revealed their presence. A few more steps and we’d reach the main street, so this narrow, dark place was ideal for eliminating a target.
“Ian?”
“Do you know me?”
Shing!
The moment they confirmed their target, the thugs drew their blades and rushed forward. With their faces and bodies concealed beneath black hoods, they seemed like shadows themselves descending upon me.
Clang! Clang!
Berik reflexively drew his sword and met their assault. The collision was so sharp that sparks erupted from the blades in an instant. It was proof that the opponent had committed their full strength.
Shing!
And that meant they already knew Berik’s abilities. They understood perfectly well that if they couldn’t strike him down in one blow, they had no chance of victory.
While three or four of them engaged Berik, the remaining one drove his blade forward in a coordinated assault. The enemies’ attacks came relentlessly—at my cheek, my neck, my ribs.
“Tch!”
Blade met blade as they struggled to push each other back. Though I hadn’t unleashed my Mage Knight power, my opponent was pushing with considerable strength.
Watching this unfold, I stepped backward and assessed the situation. Their sword stance and ability to maintain distance from their opponent were far from ordinary. These weren’t the crude movements of alley-taught fighters, but the disciplined gestures of those trained systematically.
Based on the circumstances, there was a high probability they were directly connected to Mollin.
“Berik! That one! Yes, don’t kill that one!”
“If I don’t kill him? Should I just cut off his arm?”
“Just handle it carefully….”
“Aaaaagh!”
As Berik spoke, he drove his blade into one of the small-time thugs’ thigh.
‘But something’s strange. If they know Berik’s abilities, they should also know I’m a mana user.’
No one was attacking me. If it was Mollin, who knew the power of mana better than anyone, he would never leave me alone—I was both the target and the obstacle.
Whoosh.
That moment. Countless shadows stretched long behind me. More than a dozen armed assailants were entering the alley from the main street.
“Ha. So that’s how it is.”
More than I expected. He’s prepared thoroughly.
I tried to gauge the enemies by sight, but the darkness made it difficult. As they drew their blades, I stepped back and let out a bitter laugh.
“You’re all working hard in the middle of the night.”
“Stop talking nonsense. You’re Ian, right?”
“Yes. I am Ian.”
I began to understand why there had been a delay from the assassination plan to its execution. It wasn’t just a lack of opportunity—it was the time needed to gather all these people.
Zing.
I opened my golden eyes. Mana surged forth, creating a wind of subtle temperature, and those seeing a mage for the first time hesitated in shock.
But it was only momentary.
Trusting in their overwhelming numerical advantage, they drew closer.
“Aren’t you all afraid? Why do you do such things?”
“Shut up! Just hand over your life.”
“Do you know how much money is on your head?”
In truth, even after repeated training to earn the title of mage, a mana user had few practical spells at their disposal. Mana merely resonated with mana, still far short of that glory once sung—the power to overturn the world itself.
“Die!”
Whoosh!
Clang!
The man at the front rushed forward first. I drew my sword and swung my arm wide, deflecting his attack to the side. Simultaneously, I grabbed his face directly with my left hand.
“Wha—”
Zzzing!
And I poured out my mana with all my strength. Just as I had done to Berik at the Training Ground, an invisible force flooded into his body.
“Guh, guh-hack….”
As the man staggered backward, the thugs hesitated for a moment. Blood was flowing from his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. The man wiped his face clean, his hands trembling in panic.
‘This won’t do.’
I looked down at my own hand and frowned slightly. It wasn’t something I used often, but wasn’t this supposed to be a relatively simple attack spell?
“Wh-what in the—”
“You idiot. You should’ve stabbed him right away, why are you hesitating like that!”
“So you all know each other well, it seems.”
“Why would a brat about to die need to know that!”
Based on their crude and rough language, they didn’t seem to be from the Imperial Palace. They appeared to be commoners—could they be from Bratz?
While I was pondering this, the thugs rushed forward simultaneously, leaving the blood-soaked man behind.
“Hyaaah!”
Slash!
In an instant, a blade flashed before them. It was Berik. He had already struck down those who were attacking him and came rushing over. Blood dripped from Berik’s hair. Looking back, the ground was flooded with blood—all of it spilled by the thugs.
“I’m dying of exhaustion, and these bastards are making me exercise in the middle of the night?”
“Berik, did you kill them?”
“Don’t know. Just stabbed them.”
“…Berik. Just in case, leave one alive. Please.”
I needed to know whether these were Estate Villagers or where they came from. Anyone cooperating with Mollin meant they were an obstacle to me.
Zzzing.
I gave the order while grabbing Berik’s shoulder. His blood-soaked hair fluttered in the night breeze, and Berik’s vitality began to awaken. The clouds obscuring the moon scattered, and the surroundings gradually brightened.
“Haa…. Is it the exhaustion? The medicine’s effects are wearing off today.”
“Even if you must express it, must you do so in that manner?”
“Get out of the way!! Damn it!!”
Whoosh!
Berik’s voice, drenched in fatigue, tore through the air. Simultaneously, someone’s head flew off.
Slash!
It happened so fast that even as blood erupted from his neck, the thugs stood dumbfounded. The speed was so unreal they couldn’t comprehend it as reality.
“Ugh, ugh, ughhhhh!”
“K-kill him!”
“Forward, forward!”
“Don’t push, damn it!”
Berik pushed off the wall and swung his sword upward. Screams of unknown origin scattered in all directions following his trajectory. Some tried to reach me while evading him, but I, taking a defensive stance, blocked them with my sword.
Slash!
It didn’t seem like the movement of a human body. Blades rained down from all directions, and I merely grazed them, offering no opening whatsoever. I parried reflexively, thrust, slashed….
“Aaaaaahhh!”
“Damn it! Ahhhhh!”
The narrow alley. It should have been fatally disadvantageous for Berik, yet reality was the opposite. In a space where a single swing could reach someone’s vital points, the alley meant exactly that to him.
“Haa….”
And moments later. Corpses piled like mountains and blood pooling thick. Berik too was drenched crimson from head to toe, save for his eyes.
“I said to keep one alive.”
“There’s one here. He’s twitching.”
Berik tapped the back of someone’s head repeatedly with his blade tip. Then he grinned wickedly and clenched his fist.
“Ahhh! This feels sooooo good!”
It was a different pleasure from crushing a strong opponent. The sensation of slaughter born from overwhelming power disparity. Sometimes, instead of fierce and brutal combat, this wasn’t so bad. A junk food taste of the blade—Berik savored exactly that kind of joy.
“Delightful! Refreshing! Exhilarating! Hahahaha!”
‘The man’s insane.’
I left the raving Berik to his devices and approached the group that had attacked first. Then I removed their hoods one by one to check their faces.
Among them, a man groaning. The one I’d ordered kept alive. When I felt his upper body, the well-defined muscles gave me certainty. A man who lived by his body.
“His face seems familiar somehow….”
“Really? Let me see.”
“Don’t you think we’ve seen him around?”
“Hmm. I’m not sure. Anyway, he’s ugly.”
The man groaned and twitched his left hand. Then he brought his palm up as if to cover his cheek. I thought it was just the meaningless struggle of a dying man.
I thought it was merely an attempt to hide his face….
“Aaaaaahhhhh!”
“What, what is it? Why is he like this?”
“Damn it!”
A ring was fitted on the man’s left middle finger. It appeared to be a device with a poisoned needle embedded for self-termination.
The man’s entire body trembled violently as he let out agonized screams. I reflexively tried to restrain his arm, but it was already too late. As a temporary measure, I could only stuff cloth into his mouth.
“Gugh….”
“Ugh, his face really got ruined, huh?”
Berik, who usually remained unmoved, stepped backward muttering. Necrosis progressed rapidly from where the poisoned needle struck. Flesh sloughed away and his form became grotesquely distorted. Even if his parents came, they wouldn’t recognize him.
“Move one survivor and this man to the Manor. Go summon people.”
He’d deliberately destroyed his face to completely conceal his identity. That meant the man had orchestrated this affair himself. If his identity became a mystery, Mollin would be safe.
Then Berik tapped the man’s ribs with his foot.
“Should I carry him? Though he’s heavy, so I’d need to cut off some parts.”
“Berik.”
“Just joking. Joking.”
The path toward the Main Street had no space to set foot among the corpse piles. Berik carefully pushed through the bodies and moved forward, and soon the guard lanterns that had deliberately been dark for days flickered to life.
* * *
“Did they finish them?”
Mac, anxiously peering out the window, couldn’t help but gulp down wine. Ignoring the liquid trickling down his lips.
“More than ten of them. In that narrow alley, just brushing past once creates more than a dozen wounds. There’s no way they could survive unscathed.”
Dgor, who had been sitting on the sofa in silence, spoke up. Even if they failed, Petreio, their subordinate, would never botch the cleanup. With the poison needle that could melt a face clean off, any connection between them and Mollin’s group would be buried forever in silence.
“What if we fail?”
“Mac. You have a tendency to worry too much.”
“This is called contingency planning!”
Crash!
Mac irritably slammed the table. Mollin glared at him, signaling him to exercise restraint.
“You’re going to wake all the servants.”
“I-I apologize, sir.”
“Petreio is a skilled man. Though he’s aged, he once served as the lieutenant of the Prince’s personal guard at the Imperial Palace, and above all, he’s a man of honor—there are no loose ends. You know that, and I know that.”
Just two mere youngsters.
I’d heard rumors that Berik was an exceptional talent, but I merely let it pass through one ear and out the other. Ian was a mage user, certainly, but he was only sixteen now. His limitations were all too apparent.
“Channeling mana can only be done once or twice. To face a dozen or more grown men, I’d collapse first.”
“And even if, just perhaps, we were to fail, could they touch us without evidence? If we die, an investigation team will come down again.”
That was the situation they most wanted to avoid. Mac finally seemed to calm down somewhat, apologizing and shaking his head.
“Sorry. I got a bit worked up there.”
That was when it happened.
Knock knock! Knock knock knock!
Someone pounded on the door roughly. All three men stiffened instantly, swallowing hard. At this late hour, there were only two people who would come looking for them.
Petreio, returning successful from his mission.
Or else….
“W-who….”
Creak.
Red hair visible through the crack in the door. Whether covered in blood or with skin flayed away, the entire figure was drenched in crimson. Berik wiped his face clean and smiled.
“…Were you waiting for someone named Petreio?”
“What in the….”
Mollin also rose in shock despite himself.
“All of you, come with me now.”
“H-how dare you show such disrespect!”
Shing.
To their outcry, Berik answered by drawing his blade. Then he aimed it at Dgor’s neck, drawing close as if to cut him down that very instant.
“Ian said if you want to cut, then cut.”
“You lowborn wretch! We came down from the Imperial Palace….”
“I know. But this is the Borderlands.”
The Borderlands.
A place that opened up so many possibilities.
“The Borderlands doesn’t care about that stuff. Right, Ian?”

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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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