Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 645

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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 644. A Man Who Becomes a Dog When He Drinks
“Burrrp.”
The central market of Kalamat.
Berik patted his belly, swollen like a mountain, and contentedly picked at his teeth with satisfaction. He’d devoured so much meat within the castle that he’d been banned from entering restaurants and storehouses outside of meal times.
“Honestly, how petty. To someone who’s just returned from a long business trip.”
“Excuse me, sir?”
“What? I haven’t finished eating yet. Bring me more alcohol.”
The restaurant owner smiled awkwardly and clasped his hands together. He seemed to be from Bariel, but judging by his consumption, he was absolutely not an ordinary person. A mage or Mage Knight, something like that.
Though it was galling that this was the force that had brought down Burgos, looking at the pile of plates stacked before Berik filled him with gratitude. Fifteen large plates in total. And he’d already emptied three jugs of alcohol.
“I apologize. We’ve run completely out of meat and alcohol.”
“Huh? Already? Are you trying to do business or not?”
“Yes. Next time you visit, if you could give us advance notice, I’ll stock up on more meat. Thanks to you clearing everything out today, I can go home early and spend time with my children.”
“You’re saying that as thanks, right?”
“Of course. It’s so much easier on my body than serving multiple customers like the other restaurants. Let me help you with the bill.”
True to his words, the restaurants across the way and on the other side were packed with soldiers taking a break, bustling with noise.
Meanwhile, the place where Berik sat was completely empty—the soldiers who had started to enter recognized him and all turned on their heels. Word was that if the Author was there, there’d be nothing left to eat at the restaurant.
“Please be sure to contact us first next time! We’ll serve you generously, until your belly bursts! Thank you so much!”
“Yeah, go spend time with your kids. Burrrp.”
Ah, he was still a bit short on alcohol. Berik burped repeatedly as he walked deeper into the market. Unlike Bariel and Cliffford, Burgos’s alcohol had a heavy aftertaste that was quite distinctive.
He dragged a chair that was sitting in front of a tavern and sat down roughly.
“Tavern owner!”
“Yes, sir. There are plenty of seats inside.”
“I’ll eat out here. The weather’s nice. Bring me your most expensive alcohol.”
“Y-your most expensive alcohol?”
The owner’s face brightened instantly and he scurried inside. During the civil war, they’d considered themselves fortunate just to put food on the table, but since Bariel’s forces had been stationed here, vitality had returned to the market. They conducted fair trades at proper prices for supplies beyond what the royal palace needed, and soldiers came down into Kalamat to enjoy meat and alcohol. The nation had fallen, but they had found a way to survive.
“Please wait just a moment!”
“Hurry up. Once the alcohol buzz fades, the taste diminishes.”
Above, Hollin and her daughter distributed money and food supplies to win over the people’s hearts, while below, Bariel soldiers spent money freely, so much so that people from nearby towns lined up to enter Kalamat.
Where many people gathered, anything could turn a profit. At least within Kalamat, the reputation of Bariel was quite favorable.
“Burrrp. Ugh, it keeps coming up.”
Berik sniffled and looked around.
A quiet back alley. In front of the tavern stood a small gallery that appeared to have been closed for a long time. The glass window was thick with dust, and piles of unsold paintings lay scattered about. Just as he was about to look away without much thought—
“Huh?”
Didn’t something glimmer inside?
Berik felt a slight buzz and blinked his eyes widely. Had sunlight reflected off the glass window? But the window was too dirty for that.
Glimmer!
“Eh?”
What the hell?
Berik pressed his face right up against the window in curiosity. Just then, the tavern owner who had come out with the alcohol called to him in alarm.
“What’s wrong, sir?”
“Something keeps glinting in here. It’s irritating.”
“…Is that really something to be bothered by? There are probably other crafts besides paintings. I’ve been running my shop here for ten years, and this place was already closed before that. Word has it this was where they supplied paintings to nobles and royalty. But after the royal family fell ten years ago, well, I suppose no one came looking anymore.”
“It’s been a while. But the inside is cleaner than I expected.”
“Really? Is it?”
The Tavern Owner thought nothing of it and poured another bottle with a clink.
Regardless, Berik persistently rolled his eyes, surveying the interior. Sniff sniff. The smell was unremarkable. Hmm… A closed gallery, yet something about it nagged at me.
“Huh?”
Then, the painting hanging directly ahead shifted. A human shadow suddenly appeared and vanished from the cozy, distant corridor painting. As if someone were moving alive within the room.
Berik’s eyes widened, and just as the oblivious Tavern Owner was about to bring complimentary food—
Crash! Bang!
“Ugh!”
Berik shattered every window of the gallery with his fists. When the doorknob wouldn’t turn, he kicked the door repeatedly until it split in two.
The owner stumbled backward in shock, then rushed off to call the Guards.
“Ahhh, ahhhhh! Is anyone there?! A ruffian is destroying the entire building! Help me, please!”
“Shut it. I broke some glass, not your head.”
“Guards! Guards!”
“Such a fuss. Tsk.”
Berik pushed past the clamoring Innkeeper and ventured inside. Dust hung thick in the air. But there—faint footprints. Traces left by the dust itself.
Berik drew his Mage Knight’s blade and stood before the painting in question.
“Sniff sniff.”
The dust smell was lighter here.
No doubt about it. Something’s here.
‘…That bastard Rutherford crossed through a painting too.’
Could it be a painting drawn with mana stones? Should I tear it? Wouldn’t that be dangerous? It just moved. What if they’re trying to cross over to this side? But who is it this time? Toollun? If an unexpected opponent suddenly bursts through, will Ian struggle again?
Swish.
Berik aimed his blade at the painting.
“Fine.”
Let’s tear it. Having decided, Berik took his stance.
If he’d been even a second slower, he would have slashed the painting without hesitation. But then, a woman with a distinctly familiar face passed right through with a man, as if completely unaware they were being watched.
“Huh?”
Just now…
“Ri… what was her name again. Wasn’t that Clark’s girlfriend who just passed?”
Mrs. Lien Merelof. He’d witnessed her passing through with the Merchant Lord, conversing as they went.
Berik, who had been tensing his blade, froze, his eyes darting about. Regardless of anything else, the Countess was on Ian’s side. If she’d betrayed them, it meant trouble for all of Hielo!
But was it really a betrayal?
“Damn it, my head’s splitting.”
Thud.
Berik threw his blade backward, and the Mage Knight dissipated into nothing. Whether this was from overthinking or from the alcohol, he couldn’t tell.
As Berik collapsed and clutched his head, the Tavern Owner arrived with the Guards.
As Berik crouched down and clutched his head, the tavern owner arrived with the security guards.
“That’s the one! He ordered the most expensive drink, then suddenly smashed the gallery windows and doors!”
“Excuse me. We are the Guards. What is your status?”
“I’m Berik.”
“…Raise both hands above your head and come toward us slowly. Are you from Bariel? Imperial Guard?”
“Ugh! Can’t you tell from my accent? I’m a native Bariel!”
“Your identification! Show me your identification! If you refuse, I’ll take you into custody.”
Identification? I couldn’t remember where I’d sold it off. Berik rummaged through his pockets halfheartedly. Hell, damn it.
“I don’t have any money.”
I thought they were silver coins, but they were copper. As Berik muttered, the Innkeeper’s face turned crimson as he pressed the Guards.
“No money, and what? You want the most expensive drink? Listen here! Arrest him at once and give him a proper beating! There’s no way someone like that is a Bariel Soldier. He must be some vagrant who rolled in from who knows where!”
“Ah, sorry, sorry. I’ll go get it right now.”
“Go where, you bastard! You’re trying to run!”
“No, I’m really not lying.”
“Arrest him! Quickly!”
As the Guards advanced with their spears, Berik hesitated.
‘Damn it, if I get caught, Ian will hear about this.’
Without identification or money, I’d already be scolded for drinking and wandering around, and on top of breaking windows and smashing doors, I’d definitely be in for it. Would I have to stand with my hands up counting again? It might be better to just bash my forehead against a rock and lie flat.
Berik’s eyes spun around, and he suddenly tore a painting off the wall and ran.
“Catch him! Thief!”
“No, I really am Berik! Imperial Guard!”
“Then stop! Your mouth works fine, at least! Catch him!”
“Damn it.”
Tap-tap-tap! Thwack!
Berik moved his feet swiftly, weaving through the chaotic marketplace. In his wake, fruit carts overturned, wine jars shattered, and stacked goods scattered everywhere.
“Oh no, all the fruit is ruined!”
“Hey, you madman!”
“Sorry!”
“Catch that bastard!”
Berik sniffled and fled toward the Royal Palace, while Soldiers eating meat and drinking by the roadside watched the spectacle with interest.
“Isn’t that Berik from the Imperial Guard?”
“Yeah, it is. Looks like he caused trouble again.”
“Well, his life must be entertaining, at least.”
The Soldiers made no move to intervene, simply accepting it as it was and clinking their cups together.
* * *
“So, to put it another way-”
Ian’s eyes narrowed. And that wasn’t all—Jin deliberately turned his head away as if he hadn’t heard, while Tweller let out a laugh of disbelief.
The Mages’ expressions were no different from Ian’s. With their arms crossed, they stood in a line behind Ian and glared at Berik.
“…You caused a disturbance by eating without paying, destroying property, refusing to cooperate with the investigation, and then ran away to come back here?”
“No, Ian. That’s not it—I didn’t even take a sip at that place, right? And the property damage was unavoidable. As for refusing to cooperate, well, yeah, that happened.”
When Berik laughed nervously, the Mages pinched their noses.
“Ugh, the stench of alcohol. Ian. This bastard is definitely drunk. He’s not in his right mind.”
“Am I? I’m perfectly fine, aren’t I? Do I look like some lightweight who’d pass out after just three barrels of liquor?”
“He’s so drunk he thinks the painting is moving. You fool, how do you handle a painting infused with mana stones in some back alley like that? You have no common sense. Hmph. Quite the arrogant head on your shoulders.”
“Then look at it yourself!”
Thwack!
As Berik thrust the painting forward with confidence, the mages craned their necks to examine it. Unfortunately, a painting drawn with mana stones could not be identified at a glance.
“What should we do, Ian? Only Captain Akorella can verify it immediately.”
Unlike Akorella, who could detect mana stones by scent alone, ordinary mages required a tedious process in the laboratory to confirm such things. That was precisely why the Bariel Emperor had used it as a secret passage, and why Rutherford had been able to infiltrate.
“We have too much work to do. Let’s just tear it up and discard it. Berik seems to have gotten drunk and seen things that aren’t there, but we should eliminate any potential threat just to be safe.”
“Yes, and when Captain Akorella returns, we can ask her to take a look. How does that sound?”
Ian turned the painting this way and that, checking for anything unusual. But it was difficult to discern anything. Eventually, Ian nodded, indicating his agreement.
“For now, tear it up and store it.”
“Yes, understood. What about Berik? Should we tear him up too?”
“Hmm. Not a bad idea.”
“Ian?!”
At Ian’s deadpan joke, Berik jumped to his feet in shock. The alcohol seemed to evaporate from his system in an instant.
The mage was chuckling as he reached to move the painting.
“…!”
In the background where nothing had existed before, someone thrust their face forward, staring directly at them. And then—
“Aaaahhhhh!”
“…!”
An arm surged upward with a wet sound. Tweller and Ian, startled, blocked Jin’s path, and the mage hurled the painting toward the wall.
Crash!
Something shattered. The painting struck the wall and slid downward, leaving a trail of blood in its wake—blood flowing from the nose of the stranger who had thrust their head through.

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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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