Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor [EN]: Chapter 577

Torches illuminated the area around the collapsed barrier, where the work of clearing rubble continued ceaselessly. Beside it, the bodies of Vergos soldiers lay piled high.

A survivor was pulled up nearby, and Melanie, checking his face by the torchlight, cried out in surprise,

“Clark!”

He was covered in dirt and blood, gasping for breath, seemingly on the verge of death. It was a miracle he was alive.

A healing mage rushed over and took Clark’s hand.

“Is it really Clark?”

“Yes, it’s definitely him. Clark, try to stay with us!”

“There’s another one right below! An Imperial Guard! I can see the uniform!”

“Pull him up!”

“One, two, three!”

Wachion, presumed to have been with Clark, was found dead, his body curled up. It seemed he had been crushed while trying to support the collapsing barrier to protect Clark.

The mages sighed in sorrow at the tragic death, then watched the approaching Imperial Guards from a distance.

“Haa.”

The guards knelt down one by one, letting out deep sighs. Of the five who had infiltrated the barrier, three were dead: Bonita, Kanna, and Wachion. There was still no sign of Barsabe, so her fate remained unknown.

Melanie wiped Clark’s face while observing their mourning.

Suddenly, Clark grabbed her wrist. He mumbled something without even opening his eyes.

“There seems to be a puppeteer in Vergos…”

“Clark! Don’t talk, just focus on breathing.”

“Beric went to find him, and… tell them that the word ‘Toolun’ was heard from the gypsy’s gills…”

“I told you not to talk! Magic is going in! Hold on!”

“Kuh! Ugh…”

Ziiing! Ziiing!

Clark’s neck veins bulged as he groaned in pain, then he fainted and lost consciousness.

Was he going to be okay? Melanie looked at the mage with concern. Fortunately, the treatment seemed successful, as relief washed over their faces.

“We can see the base of the barrier! It seems we’ve pulled out everyone who was buried, but should we continue the work?”

The soldiers signaled by waving their torches, and the Imperial Guards’ eyes gleamed. The bottom of the barrier was already visible, even though Barsabe’s body hadn’t been found yet. What did this mean?

“It’s clear that Barsabe is chasing Rutherford.”

“Sir Ian, Commander Jayrut!”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Beric, are you drunk?”

“A little. Is that Wachion?”

“…Yeah, that’s what happened. He went to find glory first.”

“He could have gone slowly since he was going to go anyway.”

While Beric muttered, Ian crossed the rubble in light clothing. The soldiers, who had thought he was a child, recognized Ian and quickly took off their hats to salute him.

The pile of bodies stacked like firewood was quite high.

“Everyone has worked hard late into the night. The soldiers who helped with the barrier recovery can receive alcohol and meat, and they can wake up late tomorrow morning. Leave the bodies as they are and retreat.”

“Oh, thank you!”

“Retreat! Retreat! Stop digging!”

“Soldiers, come this way to receive your meals! The alcohol and meat are nice and warm!”

“I wasn’t sure if I could eat because of the smell of blood, but with alcohol, it’s a different story! Thank you!”

As the soldiers lined up, Beric found the puppeteer among the corpses. He nudged him with his foot, and the body slumped to the side.

“Ian, this is the guy. The pervert who was playing with puppets during the war. Look.”

“He’s wearing Toolun attire. This one isn’t from Vergos, but a reinforcement from Toolun.”

“We had something similar happen in Bariel before, with the dried fairy corpse.”

Ian thought for a moment, then spoke.

“Commander Jayrut.”

“Yes, Minister.”

“When assessing Toolun’s forces, information about puppeteers will be essential.”

“Yes, I will keep that in mind.”

Jayrut bowed his head sharply in response.

There was a clear difference in rank between the Minister and the Commander, but since they were in different departments, Jayrut had only shown basic courtesy until now.

But what about his greeting now? It was an attitude filled with more than just respect, reminding the Imperial Guards that the events of the afternoon were not a dream.

The mages felt the same way.

‘Ah, right. He said he was the Emperor from the future.’

‘I can’t get used to this, really.’

‘That face is the Emperor? Hmm. Unfair.’

“Did you find any special traces during the search?”

“Ah, no, Sir Ian. The cliff at the back gate is so rough that it wasn’t easy to examine closely, but even so, there were no traces left by Barsabe.”

“It’s certain that Barsabe went on the chase, but we can’t follow her, so our only option is to rest our bodies and minds to maintain the best possible strength. It’s unfortunate, but we lost many great Imperial Guard warriors in this battle. This is directly related to the safety of His Majesty the Emperor. You all must let go of everything tonight and rest deeply.”

Ian nodded to Jayrut, indicating that he was leaving the cleanup to him, and then called the mages together. They came running, as if they had been waiting, and surrounded Ian.

“What about the Vergos messenger?”

“Yes, we captured him without any problems.”

“Good job. I will discuss with the representative of the Agiar residents to write new wording. A mage will act as the messenger, so it would be good for the quick-footed Tommy to go.”

“If you’re writing new wording, what are you referring to?”

“It will mainly include the fact that Agiar has fallen, and the civilians have cooperated with Bariel for their safety and lowered their flags themselves. So, it means that the cities in the south should also open their gates and not shed unnecessary blood.”

“The next city closest to Agiar is close enough to reach in half a day. Should we bring some Dera weapons, just in case?”

“Of course. Safety is the most important.”

“…Um, but Sir Ian!”

Chwaaak!

The mages spread their hands and blocked Ian’s path as he slowly walked while handing over documents. Why were they doing this? Ian tilted his head in confusion, and the mages’ eyes flickered in the torchlight.

“Sir Ian, you, you, you are His Majesty the Emperor, right?”

“Yes, from the distant future.”

“Then, what, what happens now? Sir Ian, can you stay in the Imperial Palace?”

Now that the owner of the Imperial Palace had been decided, they were worried that his existence could be a target of scrutiny just because he was a blood relative.

Moreover, Ian had not only inherited the bloodline but had also ascended to the position of Emperor. Depending on how Emperor Jin accepted this, their future fate would change, so the mages waited for Ian’s answer with tense expressions.

Taak!

“Then, if Sir Ian isn’t in the Imperial Palace? What, should he go to your house? Stop being ridiculous and go rest.”

“Aaaah, Commander Acorella!”

“Ugh, the smell of alcohol. What is it? Were you drinking while we were working? Beric’s face was also a bit red earlier.”

“Today is a day when we can do that. You clueless cuties. Now, anyone who doesn’t rest will be invited to my bio-experiment because I highly value their will.”

“Why does it end up like that? Ah, anyway, I’m glad Sir Ian is okay. Sir Ian, what we want to say is that we will believe in and follow you no matter who you are. So-”

The mages carefully, but firmly, grabbed Ian’s hands. It was clear how much they had talked among themselves while he was gone.

Ian smiled, looking down at their trembling hands.

“So, please continue to take care of us.”

“We will! We will be with you.”

“But Sir Ian, what about your body? You were injured.”

“If Sir Ian isn’t here, the Magic Department will be a mess. Just look at Commander Acorella, Aaaah! Don’t do that!”

“Just look at me, what? Keep talking!”

“I’m sorry! Uwaaah! I apologize!”

While the mages laughed and tangled with each other, Ian noticed the gazes in the darkness. Eyes that were stiff with fear, carrying the dread of death. They were the residents of Agiar.

Though it was late at night, they were just huddled on the streets, enduring. It was because their homes were either half-destroyed or completely collapsed, leaving them nowhere to return.

“Hale.”

“Yes, Sir Ian.”

“Hurry and bring the representative of the Agiar residents. Only with his agreement can we solve the problem of rebuilding the city. And tell them to give warm food to those people. The amount of blood shed in the next battle will depend on how they are treated.”

If Agiar fully cooperated, some cities could be captured without armed conflict, which would also save a significant amount of bloodshed for the soldiers.

Hale nodded in understanding and went down first, and Ian looked up at the dark night sky.

‘There’s no moon or stars. Of all times.’

It must be a very difficult night for Barsabe, who was in pursuit.

Ian turned around, hoping she would return safely.

* * *

“Haa, haa.”

Rutherford, you son of a bitch. Barsabe muttered curses as she breathed heavily.

The sudden explosion of the gypsy and the collapse of the barrier happened in the blink of an eye. The highly toxic smoke poured like a blade towards her, who was nearby, and if Bonita hadn’t blocked it, she would have surely died…

‘Commander Bonita, is she dead?’

She had only left the words to chase Rutherford, and then she had rolled with the black-armored soldiers while clearing the rubble. Her body had reflexively followed the order, but she felt like she had abandoned her commander and ran away, and tears kept flowing.

Barsabe wiped her eyes with the back of her left hand and looked down.

‘I’m screwed.’

Below the steep cliff, Barsabe was clinging to a fist-sized rock, barely holding on. Chasing Rutherford meant facing several of his escorting magic swordsmen. Honestly, it was impossible to fight several of them alone, so she was just quietly following behind.

She had hidden herself because she thought they would notice, but now she was in this situation.

‘It’s too dark below to gauge the height, and there’s nothing to step on to climb up.’

It felt like she had been hanging like this for almost an hour. Barsabe alternated the strength between her right and left hands, trying to figure out how to overcome this situation.

Then, a faint voice was heard from somewhere.

It was a human voice.

‘Where is it?’

Over there? If there were people nearby, it would definitely be Rutherford or his close associates.

In the pitch-black darkness, Barsabe focused her senses on her fingertips to find a rock she could grab. Then, she moved stealthily and carefully, minimizing her presence as much as possible, and moved along the side of the cliff.

“…Is there any problem?”

“It will take some time… Yes, …will.”

She could hear it. The closer she got, the clearer the voices became. They were definitely positioned on the cliff above. Barsabe held her breath and listened intently.

“How long?”

“We used a lot of magic power fighting the Bariel mages earlier. It will take at least three days.”

“I thought we had something to recover magic power.”

“We’ve used up everything we had, and the rest is inside the barrier. Please wait three days. We will open a portal and escort you to Luswena.”

It was Rutherford’s voice.

And presumably, the other person was a mage from Luswena. Including the magic swordsmen, it seemed that about ten to twenty elite members had gathered.

If she was discovered, she would die.

“We must go to Toolun.”

And a somewhat unpleasant voice.

Barsabe frowned. Was he a foreigner? His pronunciation was awkward, and his voice was particularly shrill.

“Now that we have lost Bagban, we have no reason to stay here any longer. We will report to the King and discuss our next steps.”

“King? That one in Toolun?”

“Watch your words. He is our King.”

Barsabe rolled her eyes, listening carefully to their conversation. She would take in every word without missing a single syllable.

She held her breath and looked up at the top, which had suddenly become quiet for some reason.

“……!”

Rutherford, with his long hair flowing down, was looking down. Thanks to the darkness, he didn’t seem to have found Barsabe right away, but he must have sensed something was wrong.