Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor [EN]: Chapter 461

Meanwhile, Tweller, with his armor carried by a subordinate, hurried through the corridor.

It was a sudden summons, but gathering the forces wouldn’t take long. Fortunately, foreign delegations were in the imperial palace for peace negotiations. For mutual safety and peaceful dialogue, the palace soldiers were on high alert, almost in a state of war.

“There are three exhibition halls, but what’s the exact location?”

“The largest central exhibition hall, sir.”

“Minister! A body has been found in the garden leading to the Second Imperial Palace! The wounds are severe, so it’s believed to be the work of an intruder!”

Tweller stopped abruptly. The Second Imperial Palace was far from the commotion’s source. Yet, an intruder had reached that far? He sighed deeply, the smoke from his cigarette scattering.

“If they’ve moved that far, it’s likely some time has passed since the intrusion.”

“The route as well. Despite the explosion here, they might have infiltrated elsewhere. We should search the Second Imperial Palace garden, or even the entire palace.”

“According to Romandro’s message, Rutherford is here. We can’t disperse our forces. The Magic Department is in the Second Imperial Palace, so request support from those on duty—”

The mention of the Magic Department brought Damon Runkvis to Tweller’s mind.

“Isn’t King Damon currently detained in the Magic Department?”

“Yes, they’re in charge of the interrogation…”

“Ah!”

It had been revealed during the peace negotiations that Rutherford was behind Damon. Didn’t the Burgos delegation also declare they were acting under Rutherford’s orders, setting aside their national duties?

Burgos, defeated and with an empty throne.

And Rutherford, extending his influence from there.

“…This is to seize King Damon. Hurry and inform the Magic Department to strengthen their defenses!”

“The Burgos delegation could also be a target.”

“We’ll keep King Damon in the Magic Department and move the Burgos delegation as far away as possible.”

“Move quickly!”

Taptaptap!

As the officers scattered, Tweller stepped forward to command the scene directly.

In front of the massive arched entrance to the exhibition hall, soldiers stood in disarray, swords drawn. They seemed troubled by something unseen. As Tweller approached, they reported with worried expressions.

“Well, Minister!”

“Is entry impossible?”

“Yes. We can’t get in. There seems to be a barrier…”

Ziiing. Ziiing.

Tweller reached out to the transparent, shimmering air. Sparks flew, preventing contact and leaving a sharp heat on his palm.

Magic. A mage had put a barrier around the entire building. The problem was, it was impossible to tell if it was from the Magic Department or Rutherford’s group.

“Minister, a palace mage wouldn’t block the soldiers’ entry. Sir Ian sent Lord Romandro to inform us of the situation and request support, didn’t he?”

“I agree. How about using the magic-sealing stones allocated to the Imperial Defense Department to break it?”

“It’s Rutherford’s group that benefits from being isolated. Making a decision quickly would be safer for the mages inside as well.”

“If the goal is to secure this building, could there be a passage connected to the outside inside? If so, we need to deal with it as soon as possible.”

“Minister Tweller! Make a decision!”

“Or I’ll have them bring the magic-sealing stones first, and then we can think about—”

Everyone was trying to persuade Tweller. It seemed Rutherford was the one blocking the palace soldiers’ entry.

They were wary of mages, but also aware of their importance, so the officers’ urging was particularly pressing.

At that moment, a rascal’s shout came from behind.

“Yo!”

Short and sharp, it was instantly clear who it was.

“Lord Beric is here! Why are you all dawdling here?”

Barsabe was also visible behind him.

“Excuse me, Minister. His Highness Jin was concerned about Sir Ian and the Magic Department’s safety, so he sent two members of the Royal Guard. Regardless of Rutherford’s capture, we will first check if Sir Ian is safe.”

Unlike the wild colt, Barsabe stated his identity and purpose with a polite and rational attitude.

Tweller stepped back and cleared the way.

“If it’s His Highness’s order, then of course.”

“Thank you.”

“However, there’s a barrier, so it will take some time.”

“A barrier?”

As Barsabe approached, rolling up his sleeves, Tweller paused. That’s right. He had forgotten because of that colt. Most Royal Guards were magic swordsmen with magical power. Unlike ordinary people, they could instinctively sense magic.

Barsabe carefully placed his hand on the barrier and frowned.

“Is it an unfamiliar energy? It’s Rutherford’s group’s doing, isn’t it?”

“Then we should quickly break it—!”

“No.”

Barsabe firmly refuted the officers’ words.

“This is from the Magic Department.”

* * *

Rutherford stared intently at the bowed Ian.

The silence, which grew stranger with time, was not to his liking, and his brow furrowed slightly. It was natural to hear some kind of response. Yet, this lowly child wasn’t even breathing.

“S-Sir Ian?”

“Oh my, Sir Ian! Are you alright?”

“Y-You crazy bastard! What did you do to Sir Ian—!”

And unwanted commotion.

Rutherford slowly turned his head. Judging by their attire, they were palace mages. He didn’t know what the red band around their heads meant, but they looked foolish, which was quite amusing.

Rutherford conspicuously patted the back of Ian’s head with his fingertip. To show what kind of being the boy, revered as a minister by everyone, was in his grasp. Even then, Ian didn’t move.

“The proud mages of Bariel, I see.”

“How rude! Step away from Sir Ian immediately!”

“Hahaha. Sir Ian, you say.”

“What, what are you laughing at…”

“You know nothing. How dirty, thin, and unpleasant Ian smells.”

“W-What are you saying—”

Rutherford slowly walked past Ian. With each slow step, the mages’ hearts seemed to sink.

‘That’ Ian was kneeling without even resisting. Unable to grasp whether it was magic or an illusion, could they really face that man? If it were just Rutherford alone, maybe, but the number of conspirators visible through the half-open exhibition hall didn’t seem small.

“Stop! Don’t move!”

“Those who seek to capture me, why are they afraid to come closer?”

“What did you do to Sir Ian? You, you, you bastard!”

“I was just greeting him after a long time. Is there a problem?”

Ian lowered his posture and remained silent. That was all. Just as they revered Ian, Ian knelt as if he revered Rutherford.

Realizing that, the mages’ eyes flickered for a moment. That man was Rutherford, who created the Idgal [a powerful magical artifact]. And Ian confessed to having contributed to it. Like well-meshed gears turning, the truth seemed to be moving and revealing itself.

The mages stepped back, calling out to Ian.

“Sir Ian! Please come to your senses! Can’t you speak? What should we do?”

“Damn it! Let us know what’s going on!”

“Please tell us, Sir Ian!”

But there was no answer.

Rutherford lightly swung his long pipe, a satisfied smile on his face. He couldn’t tolerate silence that opposed him, but he liked this silence that rejected his opponent.

“Let’s see. I need to reduce the number of mages a bit. Ah, sorry, but I have no personal grudges. It’s all part of a plan under God’s will.”

Whoosh. Rutherford muttered as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. Should he kill them, or spare them? Spare them, or use them? It was the attitude of someone who knew he was the perfect predator.

The mages felt their minds reeling with despair, fear, and bewilderment. Until they noticed Ian’s hand on the floor.

“…Sir Ian, his hand.”

A fist clenched so tightly that the bones on the back of his hand were white. There was nothing to grab, yet the trembling looked desperate, as if searching for even a straw.

The mages, who had been staring blankly for a moment, stopped backing away.

Thud.

One by one, the mages took off their robes and placed them on the floor. It was a ritual to hope that even if their whole bodies were burned, some trace of them would remain in the world because of the robes. This meant they were prepared for death.

‘His body isn’t moving according to Sir Ian’s will.’

‘We’re the only ones who can help Sir Ian now.’

‘We have to fight back. If we don’t, everything will collapse.’

Whether it was the imperial palace, Bariel, or even the existence of Ian himself.

Ziiing!

The mages simultaneously activated their magic, covering the building with a massive barrier. There was also the intention to trap Rutherford’s group, but there was also the concern that someone in the palace might see Ian’s appearance.

Ziiing!

A boy who looked at the world with brilliant golden hair and fresh green eyes.

One who could fly higher than anyone among those close to the power of God.

Their guide, connected by the sixth sense.

Ziiiiing!

Chwaaaak!

The only one Ian could kneel to was Bariel.

The power extended by the mages filled the surroundings in an instant. Rutherford watched it with interest. It was clear that he had expected this as well.

“…It’s futile.”

Their secret passage was an illusion, so what good would it do to seal the building? He gently shook his pipe.

“I said it’s all part of a plan under God’s will.”

Taat!

As the ashes flew, those who had been hiding like shadows appeared before Rutherford. The blue light flickering from their fingertips. Mages.

The palace mages and Rutherford’s mages faced each other, wary of each other.

“…This is the imperial palace. Surrender peacefully. You were lucky to get in, but you won’t be able to leave as you please.”

“Luck? We’ve never relied on something so small and faint. We’re here because of our own will.”

“Do you know what it means to manufacture Idgal?”

“It means handing over the mages’ lifelines to that man! What are you thinking, supporting Rutherford?”

“How many times do I have to say it?”

Rutherford’s mages lowered their stance.

“Under God’s will.”

And the blue light grew darker.

In response, the palace mages also deeply drew out a yellow light. The gazes that sought each other’s throats were sharply intertwined.

“…Stop.”

A clear voice was heard. Small, but a resonance that no one could ignore. It was Ian.

Everyone in that place, including Rutherford, turned their gaze. The boy was standing, staggering, while leaning against the wall. His face was not visible because his golden hair was drooping.

“Sir Ian! Are you alright?”

“Are you coming to your senses?”

“…!”

Unlike the rejoicing mages, Rutherford had a look that something was wrong. How could he be standing? He hadn’t ordered him to? Rutherford turned his body completely and walked towards Ian.

“Ian. It seems playing the leader was quite fun. Moving without knowing the situation.”

“…Will?”

“What?”

Ian was panting and muttering something. It was too quiet to hear unless he got closer, so Rutherford kindly leaned his upper body.

Then, Ian grabbed the edge of his half-open collar and pulled him hard.

Squeak.

“…!”

“A plan under God’s will?”

Blood trickled down from the corner of Ian’s mouth. It was because the inside of his mouth had burst from shouting.

“I’m curious. Was this also part of that plan?”

Ziiing! Ziiing!

The green eyes that had been visible through Ian’s hair instantly turned gold. In that fleeting moment, Rutherford realized he was too close and tried to step back, but he couldn’t shake off Ian’s grip.

“If there was, it seems I’m the master of that fate.”