Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor [EN]: Chapter 483

The next morning.

Ian changed into neat clothes, groomed himself properly, and looked in the mirror. The illegitimate son, Ian, with his blond hair and green eyes, stood there. Compared to when he was at the Bratz mansion, he looked no less weary, but his eyes seemed to shine with a unique strength.

Every time Ian looked in the mirror, he felt like he was facing the god he had seen in the abyss, which made him chuckle for some reason.

“Laughing at your own face. What a nut.”

“Berik. Are you ready?”

“Not yet. There’s no decent pen and paper, and I’m refilling the backpack. I guess we ate a lot yesterday. The kitchen is completely empty.”

“Really? Fill it moderately. We’re going to the market anyway, so we can buy what we need there. It’s heavy to carry around.”

Earlier, Berik and the servants had been quite noisy. As if trying to secure ten gold coins’ worth, Berik had been raiding the wine cellar, yelling to make room in the backpack, while the servants were screaming that the cloth would tear.

Judging by his bright smile, he must have found a solution. Ian looked at the shabby cloth patch added to the side of the backpack and thought the servants must have had a hard time. To exaggerate a bit, the backpack was swollen to the size that Ian could fit inside.

“Seriously, what do you take me for? I used to run with ten of these on my back during training.”

“What about Landreau?”

“He’s been pretending to be unconscious since last night. What should we do? Should we kill him before we leave? The way that brat acts is unsettling, not good at all.”

His familiarity with human trafficking and his lack of hesitation to kill. Ian certainly agreed, but he neatly adjusted his sleeves and said,

“Keep him alive for now.”

“Why? Let’s just clean up and go.”

“We don’t have the authority to do that, especially you, Berik. With His Highness’s coming-of-age ceremony and coronation ahead, we need to be careful not to create any noise, even with a falling leaf. What if rumors spread that the Imperial Guard killed an imperial citizen?”

What if the rumor grew and morphed into ‘killed an innocent imperial citizen’?

How many foolish people are there who live believing in baseless rumors? There might not be any immediate problems, but from a broader perspective, it was necessary to be cautious. Not for himself, but for Jin.

“I will send a message via messenger pigeon to request an investigation team from the capital. Since slave trading is happening in the nearby market, it means the role of the garrison is practically useless. We need to turn everything upside down. Officially recorded.”

“Yes, yes. Oh, and Ian, look at this.”

Berik dragged something in from outside the door with his foot. A bunch of miscellaneous things rolled roughly into the room.

What are those? Ian was puzzled for a moment, but then he realized they were all scrap metal with peculiar shapes. They were the things of the Dera tribe.

“I heard they stole a lot of things from the mole people. It’s something that often happened whenever they went up the mountain. Especially that guy, Hot or Hat or whatever his name was.”

Ian squatted down and rummaged through the items. Most of them were impossible to guess what they were used for, and even if he could guess, most of them seemed to be failures. It seemed that collecting scrap like this and selling it at the market was another good source of income.

Berik clicked his tongue, recalling the mole people’s biceps he had seen last.

“They have no fear. If a normal person gets hit in the head with a hammer, they’d die instantly.”

“Berik. Bring the one behind you over here too.”

“Ah, this? I thought I’d seen it somewhere.”

Ian picked up a very familiar object with both hands.

“…It’s a dripper.”

A type of automatic recording device. A cornerstone of automatic process machinery, where dots are marked at regular intervals. Even when Ian was the emperor, it was a core component of a major revolutionary technology that was researched separately.

Ian also knew why Berik felt familiar with this.

“Berik, you’ve seen it before. A long time ago.”

“When?”

“When we were in Bratz. Lady Lien Merelov gave it to me as a gift. I brought it with me when I came to the capital, so, well. If Lord Romandro didn’t throw away my luggage, it should still be somewhere in the mansion.”

“Throw away what? The room you used on the second floor is still the same.”

Ian looked up at Berik with a slightly surprised expression. It had been a full ten years. Hadn’t they said the child had grown up? There should be a room for the child, but they had left that room as it was?

“Bibi is still young, so she uses a small room. When she gets older, well, we’ll move her or something.”

“…You’re way behind on rent.”

“Yeah. You have to go and work like a cow.”

As Ian smiled faintly, Berik gestured for the dripper in his hand.

“Anyway, you’re taking that too? I don’t know if there’s room in the backpack. Should we ask them to add another pocket?”

“Hmm.”

Ian pondered for a moment. A dripper identical to the one he had. It must have been stolen recently. Otherwise, Landreau would have sold it long ago to make some money.

Then, a thread of a clue suddenly caught Ian’s mind.

‘…The dripper from 10 years ago and the one now look exactly the same.’

He seemed to understand a little what this meant.

Ian handed the object to Berik and asked,

“No, I’m not taking it.”

“Then?”

When Ian was the emperor. The dripper was one of the most difficult parts to manufacture. Dozens of artisans had to work on it for years to make just one.

The dripper he had received as a gift 10 years ago must have been the only one in the world until it was stolen. That means…

‘This is also the only one in the world.’

“Break it.”

“Huh?”

An automatic recording device that the Dera tribe had been working on for 10 years without being able to develop or give up on. What if this was the last dripper they had? If they had to invest a long time and effort to make a new one again?

Wouldn’t his dripper in the capital become a link to the Dera tribe?

“Break it. So that it’s unrecognizable, completely.”

* * *

One hour on an old donkey.

Since they had been traveling along the perimeter of Mount Laja, all they could see were grass, hills, and wildflowers. But as they approached the market, they could feel a faint but definite liveliness.

Ian felt like he was seeing Bariel 10 years later for the first time since coming out of the abyss. At the same time, he realized that Landreau’s mansion was truly in a remote place.

“Buy wild greens! Cheap!”

“Two copper coins for a lottery ticket. Bartering is possible.”

“Hey! Why are you in my spot?”

“Your spot, my spot, where is it? Are you a lord or something?”

“Customer! Traveler? I’ll give you a discount. Stay here.”

Shops were rare, and most of the vendors were stalls or stands selling goods.

Ian and Berik pulled their robes down further to avoid attention. Then, a newspaper-selling child came running from afar. He waved a yellow newspaper and shouted.

“Buy a newspaper! News straight from the capital! This is a really big deal! It happened in the Imperial Palace! If you’re curious, buy a newspaper and read it!”

In the capital, everyone would have reached out for a copy, but here, everyone was surprisingly indifferent. It was as if they thought of the capital as a completely different country. Ian nudged Berik’s side, and Berik raised his hand.

“Here! A newspaper.”

“Yes, yes. Hello, you must be travelers.”

“How much is it?”

“One copper coin.”

While Berik was paying, Ian took the newspaper first. The news of the Emperor’s death was written in large letters. The main content was that the Emperor, who had been bedridden for a long time, had suddenly worsened and eventually passed away.

‘His Highness has lifted the freeze.’

He was showing his will to take over Bariel by cutting off his father’s breath.

Since he passed away shortly after the freeze, it could be judged that he had made the decision first, regardless of Rutherford’s existence.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“His Majesty the Emperor has passed away.”

“Really? He lived a long life. Lying in bed, unable to move. Ah, then the Imperial Palace must be busy now. Is it a good thing that we’re out here?”

The eyes of the newspaper-selling child, who was picking out change, narrowed. He was focused on Berik’s words that they had come from the Imperial Palace. Ian quickly spoke to the child.

“Is there a place nearby that handles messenger pigeons?”

Usually, places that handle mail also managed messenger pigeons. In developed places like the capital, even lower-grade magic stones.

But, it was probably better not to expect much here. It would be good to imagine a stall with a couple of pigeons for business. Even that was enough for Ian.

“Messenger pigeons? Hmm, come this way.”

The child led the two into an alley, and Ian’s prediction was accurate. It was a shop tent with rows of empty birdcages.

Swoosh!

“Here? Really?”

“Oh my, a customer. Welcome. What do you want to send?”

Berik pinched his nose at the smell of bird droppings. Two old pigeons were dozing in rusty iron cages. They looked too shabby to even fly.

Berik turned to Ian and shook his head vigorously.

“No way. Ian, they’ll die mid-flight.”

“What are you talking about! They’re still lively, even if they look like this.”

“Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t even eat them if you told me to roast them.”

“Berik.”

Ian blocked Berik’s path as a sign to restrain himself. The owner looked visibly displeased, but he was patient, not wanting to lose a customer who had come after a long time.

“I need to send something to the Imperial Palace, so there shouldn’t be any problems in the process. Can you guarantee that?”

“T-the Imperial Palace?”

The owner’s eyes widened as he paused, surprised by the destination. But soon, realizing that it meant money, he nodded enthusiastically.

“Of course! However, I can’t send it directly to the Imperial Palace. The messenger pigeons don’t know the way, and they don’t have magic stones. The only way is to send it through the post office in the capital as an intermediary. Is that okay with you?”

“No, I have a magic stone.”

Berik told him not to worry unnecessarily and took out his ID. Click, when he pressed the side of the ID, a part of it came off, and a small magic stone came out with it.

“But I don’t know if those things can even fly.”

“…Is there a way to send it by land?”

“Once every fifteen days, garrison members go up to the capital to receive supplies. The only way is to send it with them then. Or you have to find someone separately, but most people have hardly ever gone outside, so it’s not very safe.”

The garrison members were out of the question. First of all, they were not trustworthy, and more importantly, the message would include a request to dispatch an investigation team, so if any problems arose in the middle, it was highly likely that it would not be delivered.

Ian stared at the two dozing pigeons for a moment, then nodded in agreement. There was no other special way.

“I’ll send one.”

“Excellent choice! I will do my best!”

“Can I borrow paper and a pen?”

“Yes, yes. Of course. I usually charge for this too-”

“Take it. Why give a discount?”

“No, it’s fine. Haha.”

Ian, who was about to grab the pen, suddenly turned to look at Berik. Come to think of it, wasn’t Berik being out here alone mean that he could now write and submit reports himself?

“Berik, you can write now?”

“What are you talking about? Look.”

Scribble.

-B…erik. Report submitted. Got lost but met Ian and went north. Acorella magic amplifier is trash, so don’t drink it. You’ll die. Ian will write the details. vOverv.

Berik roughly scribbled the report and handed the pen to Ian. It was his turn next, to let everyone know of his existence.

Ian fiddled with the pen, then wrote the beginning.

-To His Highness Crown Prince Jin, it has been a long time since I, Ian Hielo, Minister of Magic, have submitted a report. It has taken too long to greet you. How have you been this spring?