Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor [EN]: Chapter 390

Swoosh! Even in the chaos, there was a distinct killing intent. Beric reflexively turned, protecting Ian, and faced an arrow that narrowly missed the tip of his nose. The arrow didn’t just carry wind; it carried an unfamiliar magical energy. The straight-flying arrow pierced the heart of a Clifford soldier standing right behind them and exploded, tearing the body to shreds. Boom! “Ughhh!” The arrow bore the insignia of the Luswennan royal family. Beric glared at Eriphony with wide eyes, then met the king’s gaze. Those cyan eyes with their three pupils. She frowned. “Tsk. Next.” Whirr. Whirr. Elderte handed an arrow to Zaira, and the child imbued it with magic before offering it to the king. The rebellious look she had just shown was nowhere to be seen. Eriphony murmured with satisfaction. “You should have done this from the start. How pretty, huh?” “……” Toc toc, Eriphony tapped Zaira’s cheek and smiled. Then, she pulled back the bowstring again, aiming for Ian’s heart. Nearly eight feet tall with long arms to match. Beric easily anticipated the next attack and shouted. “Eriphony is targeting Ian! Stop her!” “…Eriphony? That impudent thing.” Swoosh! Eriphony relentlessly drew and released the bowstring, targeting Ian. Her shoulders were squared, her posture unwavering. Her gaze was firm and tenacious. Even as Beric retreated with the help of his soldiers, he never took his eyes off her. Eriphony reached behind her for an arrow, but none came. “Oh, really.” How annoying. Can’t they do even this one thing quickly? Eriphony turned around again, thinking she would have to reprimand them properly this time. That is, until she met Zaira’s face, pale and dripping with sweat. “What’s wrong?” “She’s, she’s still a child. Her magic isn’t as strong as an adult’s, so please have mercy. I’ll do it instead. Zaira, come here. It’s okay.” Zaira bit her pale lips tightly and handed over the last arrow. A faint chill emanated from it. Eriphony ran her fingertips over the arrowhead and then made an unreadable expression. “Though she is young, does magic have anything to do with age? Even Ian Hielo, who is being carried away over there, hasn’t had his coming-of-age ceremony yet. I heard he has a talent for magic because he inherited the blood of an elder.” “…I apologize.” “It’s fine. I don’t expect much. Just be obedient and serve Luswennan. Send the child away and bring another mage.” “Yes. I will do it.” One of the mages stepped forward eagerly, as if they had been waiting for this. Thud, thud, Zaira retreated weakly. Then, someone grabbed the child’s shoulder and whispered. “Zaira. What did you do?” “…What.” It was the man who had raised Zaira with the elder. He knelt and examined the child’s palm. It was torn and tattered by the arrowhead, a sight he couldn’t bear to look at. The man spoke again through his teeth. “I’m asking what you did to His Highness’s arrow. You didn’t just put magic into it, did you?” “……” The child looked up at the sky with rebellious eyes. Her grandmother, who had been so alive just moments ago, had turned to ash and disappeared. So how could she possibly be happy to pledge allegiance to the king? The child hugged the man tightly around the neck. “Grandma often said, don’t keep what you receive in your heart. Whether it’s anger or love. If you keep it inside, there won’t be enough room, and it will suffocate you. But you know what?” The two hugged each other tightly. Zaira glared at Eriphony, who was still focused on shooting arrows. “I’m greedy, so I have no choice but to keep it all. I’ll hold onto everything. And someday, when the other person needs it the least, I’ll give it back. I’ll say, ‘This is what you gave me.'” “…Zaira, please. Okay?” “It’s okay. I’m okay.” The king was right. Zaira was young, but she was the most talented among the mages, second only to the elder. It was just a power she couldn’t control herself. Some would call it a blessing, and others would call it a curse. The man had always thought of Zaira’s power as a wondrous gift from the gods, but for some reason, he felt that something was wrong now. Thwack! Crack! The loud noise made the two turn their gaze in the opposite direction. The magic swordsmen were swiftly and accurately smashing the black armor. They moved almost as one, making it hard to follow with the eye, as if they wouldn’t allow any attacks. “M-Magic swordsmen! A mage is being dragged away over there!” “Get out of the way!” “Anyone who lays a hand on a mage will be annihilated!” Slash! The magic swordsmen were also doing their part to rescue the mages. The enemy, armed with Idgal shields [shields made from a special material], like Beric had been, blocked their way, but the situation was slightly different from before. They had already secured the mages and were turning their backs to enter their main camp, while the magic swordsmen were in pursuit. With their defenses down, the Vergos and Luswennan forces were falling helplessly. Whoosh! Screech. “The barrier gate is open!” “Retreat! Everyone nearby, get inside! Sir Ian Hielo will enter!” “Clear the way! Secure the entrance! The mages will continue to be escorted. Don’t let the enemy take a single step inside!” “Get out of the wayyy! Ugh!” The firmly closed barrier began to open. If that opened, securing Ian would be a pipe dream. Eriphony cursed as she watched the struggling black armor and mounted her horse directly. “I’ll go myself.” “No, Your Highness! It’s a chaotic mess!” “This is our chance, and if we miss it, I’ll never forget this moment until I die. Those black armors–!” Crunch. Eriphony was about to unleash a torrent of curses but stopped herself. The main force of Luswennan hadn’t arrived yet. Although they were at a disadvantage, they had a chance of winning if they continued to push with numbers. “Tell them to focus on holding back the magic swordsmen. Damn it. I’m so frustrated, I’ll go myself.” Neigh! “Your Highness. Just a moment!” Elderte grabbed Eriphony’s reins tightly, trying to stop her. The situation was dire. Especially since the Vergos side seemed to be focusing on securing the mages and retreating, as if they had achieved their goal by defeating the Bariel mages. “Please calm down and order a retreat first. Clifford is doing the same, and so is Vergos. We came here to ally with King Damon and take fertile land, didn’t we? It would be much wiser to communicate and plan for the future. Above all, it’s too dangerous for you to go directly when the magic swordsmen are running rampant.” At Elderte’s desperate plea, Eriphony let her hair down and shouted. She could see Beric taking Ian into the barrier at the end. He was being held like a child, surrounded by Clifford soldiers. “Damn it. What the hell is Damon doing! Send a message right now! If they can’t use the synthetic monsters properly, they shouldn’t have brought them! They just stink!” “I’ll prepare it. We’ll set up our camp too.” “Haa.” “May I order a retreat?” “…Order it. What about the mages we secured?” “Right now, on our side…” Elderte passed the question to his subordinates. Then, a general bowed slightly and reported. “We secured two, but one was recaptured by the magic swordsmen, and the other is bleeding heavily and will die soon.” “Make sure to fill the magic sealing stones well. Even if they look like they’re about to die, mages don’t die easily. Even their corpses will be useful.” “Yes, Your Highness.” Thud! Eriphony threw her bow to the ground and lit a cigarette. Stepping back, she saw that Elderte’s judgment was correct. The Vergos army seemed to be focusing more on securing the mages and retreating than on fighting. Then, she suddenly felt a gaze. Eriphony realized that Zaira was staring intently at her, and she puffed out smoke as if to say it was impudent. Zaira slowly lowered her head, honoring the king’s dignity. * * * “Sir Ian! What happened?” “Sir Ian, please come to your senses.” “Can’t you see Ian has his eyes open?” “No, I mean, he’s just staring blankly, he’s not coming back to his senses. Can you recognize me? It’s Hale.” “Here! He’s still bleeding! Put some magic into him!” “Captain Hale! Is it okay to leave Sir Ian to you alone?” “It’s okay, go check on the injured. And make a list of those who have returned. We need to see who hasn’t come through the barrier yet.” “The magic swordsmen are still sweeping the battlefield. There! They’re coming in again!” “Then how many are left? Wait, let me see.” Inside the barrier. Hale and the mages who had rushed over after hearing the news were busily moving around, tending to their comrades. Most of the wounds were caused by Idgal weapons, so they couldn’t expect any special effects from pouring magic into them. But they couldn’t just give up. With the feeling of pouring water into a bottomless pit, they held the hands of those who were wandering in agony and transferred their magic. “Come to your senses. Don’t fall asleep.” “Ah, this really hurts. I can’t feel my strength.” “This guy can at least talk. Good. I’m relieved. Who’s the most critical right now?” “Over here! Captain Hale!” “Acorella!” “Why are you calling me, you bastard! I’m busy!” “Don’t put magic into him, try making an amplifier. It’s okay if there are side effects, just make it fast. Request help from the royal palace. Okay?” “How am I supposed to make that here!… I want to say that, but I’ll do it somehow. Ah, you bastards. How dare they touch a mage, damn it. I’ll kill them all when I see them later.” Ian stared blankly at the ceiling, listening to the commotion. Some were badly injured, some had not yet returned, and some were on the verge of death. Because of him. Because of his lack of virtue. “Ian.” Beric noticed that Ian’s eyes were strange. His pupils were empty. The neat and upright gaze he always had was nowhere to be found. Beric continued to shake Ian’s shoulder. “Ian, are you hurt? Say something. There are doctors here. But they’re looking at the ones who are bleeding first, okay? Ian. Are you listening to me?” “…Gone?” “Huh?” Ian swallowed hard and mumbled something. At that sight, the mages who were helping stopped and held their breath. “What did you say?” “…I asked if anyone else died because of me.” “What, what are you talking about?” Beric frowned, not understanding. If he asked that during a war, how was he supposed to answer? Could he count every cause of the overflowing blood outside? As Beric stood there blankly, Acorella, who was about to leave the room, pushed him aside and knelt. “Sir Ian. Can you hear me?” “Acorella, Ian is acting strange.” “It’s a side effect of the Bitter River magic [a type of magic that causes the user to experience past pain]. It’s when you receive all the pain you’ve felt in the past at once, so the mental damage will be significant. Sir Ian. I don’t know what’s going on or what you’re thinking. But, it’s all nonsense.” Acorella shouted into Ian’s ear. “None of our people died because of Sir Ian. They all came back alive thanks to Sir Ian.” “……” “Erase it consciously. Whatever Sir Ian is thinking, it’s a lie. Come back to your senses and see. Are we dying right now, or are we surviving?” But Ian kept repeating the same thing. Who died because of him, who was hurt because of him, because of him… “Sir Ian!” Except for the severely injured mages, those who were being treated were surprised and approached Ian. “Please look at us, Sir Ian. This was expected from the moment we left the palace. Who among those who left home would return without a scratch? It was our decision, so why are you like this?” “Yes. So please don’t say that. Captain Acorella, when will the Bitter River magic side effects wear off?” “It’s different for everyone, so I can’t say for sure. Let’s ask for a sedative first.” Ian was looking straight ahead, but he wasn’t seeing anything. Tears kept flowing down his cheeks. Beric hit his forehead against Ian’s shoulder and mumbled. “Ah, really. Why is he like this? I’m going crazy.” It seemed like no matter how hard they shouted that their injuries were not caused by Ian, he wouldn’t hear them. Beric kept his forehead against Ian’s until he stopped crying, and he answered Ian’s mumbling with the same words. “Ian, I support you.” “…Would I have?” “Yes, Ian. Everyone here supports you.” “…If?” “Even so. Ian. I support you.” The doctor who had been asked for a sedative rushed over and injected Ian’s arm. Ian’s eyes slowly closed. Then, finally, the tears stopped. Beric and the mages sighed in relief and buried their heads in the bed. More than anyone being hurt or dying, a single tear from the steadfast Ian shook them more deeply. They wished Ian knew that, but now he was asleep and couldn’t hear them. They ran their hands through their hair and looked at each other.