Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor

Chapter 232

Chapter 232 – Of Royal Blood

“Arsen!”

“Let go of this!”

As the two drew closer, a panicked Dilaina hurriedly tried to separate the child.

But Arsen’s gaze fiercely pursued Ian. Like a young predator who had found an interesting toy. He roughly shook off his mother’s hand and grabbed Ian’s collar, pulling him in.

“This is fun.”

“…”

Arsen’s eyes flashed. He had opened his ability again. Ian could feel primordial power bursting from the edges of his senses, but it dissipated as soon as it touched him.

Grip!

The bones on the back of Arsen’s hand, gripping Ian’s collar, turned white.

How could he forget this? The Emperor had been like this, as had Mariv, and Gale and Jin too.

Their very existence proved God’s absolute protection, and Arsen had no choice but to realize his limits. Right now, just like those white knuckles.

“You’re of royal blood, aren’t you? Hm? Strange. Where did this come from?”

Arsen whispered softly too. His cheeks were flushed red. He had learned something incredible, so how could he best use this?

The more he thought about it, the more laughter leaked out. As the child’s shoulders shook with giggles, Dilaina watched her son anxiously. It was unfamiliar, and that unfamiliarity was frightening.

“…Your demonic behavior is quite a sight. Look at the eyes of those watching you.”

Ian murmured calmly and firmly as he removed Arsen’s hand.

At that, Arsen’s vision, which had been clouded by excitement, suddenly cleared. From Dilaina to the ministers, the high priests, and even the mages – all were watching the two with shock and bewilderment.

“Ah.”

But what did it matter? Arsen’s ability had been nullified by Ian as soon as it was used, leaving no trace.

His behavior might be strange, but so what? Couldn’t it be dismissed as a show of force between two people before a big event?

“Mother. Let’s go.”

“Hm? O-okay.”

As Arsen smiled brightly, Dilaina reluctantly lifted the corners of her mouth too. This was her gentle son, as always. Surely, Ian must have said something nasty just now.

“Lord Ian. I’m looking forward to tomorrow just as much as you are. Ah, it’s truly amazing.”

Shaking his head and clicking his tongue, his sincerity was palpable. Arsen boarded the carriage with Dilaina, and the officials who had come to their senses followed. The whirlwind procession of carriages disappeared one by one down the path they had come.

Neigh!

Dilaina and Arsen sat facing each other.

The mother carefully grasped her son’s hand. Arsen, who had been glaring out the window – or more precisely, at Ian outside the window – until the end, turned his head with a smile. There was pure joy in his expression.

“Arsen. What did Ian say to you earlier?”

“Why? What good would it do you to know?”

“If it was something that might upset you-“

“How many children did Father have in total?”

“Hm?”

Including the 3rd Prince who died from a fall, Jin was the last in the line of succession. Those born after to women of no status in the palace would be meaningless, wouldn’t they?

“About fourteen or so. But don’t worry. They’re all living as if dead outside the palace. If you just secure your position as successor, no one can challenge you.”

“Hmm. Is that so?”

Arsen responded without much interest. His mind was preoccupied with Philea, whom he had seen in Gale’s quarters.

She looked exactly like a carbon copy, so she must be his birth mother, but then is his father of royal blood? Hadn’t he heard that he was the illegitimate son of the extinct Derga family?

‘How should I connect this? Hm? Jin, do you know?’

Whether he connected it this way or that, something interesting was sure to happen. Arsen couldn’t help but burst into laughter once again.

“Ahaha!”

The blessing of royal blood or whatever, it was all meaningless now. Wasn’t he just one step away from truly grasping the empire? And now Ian’s secret had fallen into his lap too – there couldn’t be a better turn of events.

Clip-clop!

Meanwhile, Romandro approached Ian, turning his back on the departing carriages. Ian waved his hand dismissively, saying he was fine as he dusted off his disheveled clothes. There were bright red nail marks on his pale neck. It seemed he had been scratched when Arsen grabbed his collar.

“I-Ian. Are you alright?”

“What on earth happened? Why did His Highness Arsen act like that?”

“Gasp, there are scratch marks on your neck!”

Everyone hovered anxiously around him, not daring to touch.

After adjusting his clothes, Ian turned to look at the Grand High Priest and the other high priests. Although their expressions were hidden by their robes, their huddled whispering suggested they were quite flustered. They had realized the atmosphere was unusual as soon as they entered the palace.

“Come, let’s move again. The citizens outside are waiting. Grand High Priest and Ranco, follow me.”

As Ian snapped his fingers, the dazed gatekeepers jumped and started moving. They ran about, moving the high priests’ luggage to the carriages and hurrying to clear the scene. Whatever was going on, when higher-ups fight, it’s always the subordinates who suffer. It’s best to clear out.

“Um, Minister Ian.”

“Speak.”

Grand High Priest Lily cautiously called out to Ian as they walked. This wasn’t the image of the imperial palace they had in mind. It was never exactly a place overflowing with love and hope, but it certainly wasn’t supposed to be this precarious and chaotic. The palace was supposed to be the center of the world, standing firm under its weight.

“Has something happened in the palace? Being cut off from the world, we’re slow to hear outside news. Aside from the puzzling behavior of Lady Dilaina and His Highness Arsen, where is His Highness Jin?”

“His Highness Jin has made the Ministry of Magic’s quarters his residence.”

“The Ministry of Magic?”

“Before that, High Priest Ranco.”

“Yes?”

Ian abruptly stopped walking. Before meeting Abidel and Makael, there was something he needed to check first.

“When you received the oracle, how was the voice of the deity?”

“The voice of the deity? My abilities are inadequate to express its greatness.”

Judging by the faint emotion in his voice, Ranco seemed to be recalling the glory of that day once again. Ian pressed gently, asking again.

“I’m asking about your memory. I know the deity is great. By the way, Abidel and Makael’s descriptions were quite interesting.”

“…The resonance was deep and heavy, and I felt as if the ground I stood on was shaking. Every single word shook my heart with its powerful weight.”

It was more in line with Makael’s claim of heaviness than Abidel’s assertion of a thin voice.

Ian nodded as if he had expected this. Then he recalled the flash in Arsen’s eyes.

‘He tried to use his power on me earlier.’

Ian rubbed his neck. It was clear that Arsen had attempted to use ‘brainwashing’, a type of mental magic.

It must be the most potent of his wicked tricks, and judging by his subsequent mention of royal blood, he must have been blocked by the ‘nullification’.

‘The fact that the royal blessing is still intact means I’m still Ian.’

Not Ian the illegitimate son, but Ian the Emperor.

He turned to Romandro and instructed:

“Deploy more personnel to His Highness Gale’s quarters.”

“More personnel? Why?”

Arsen had begun to doubt Ian’s bloodline. If so, he would naturally dig into and provoke his birth mother, Philea. Less than a full day remained. There was almost no chance of Arsen exposing this to the palace. First, who would believe it, and even if they did, it wouldn’t benefit Arsen.

‘If I, the Minister of Magic, am of royal blood, it would negate Arsen’s claim of being the first royal mage. Rather than officially bringing it up, it’s right to use it as a means to shake my surroundings.’

Philea.

…Or Jin.

Romandro stared blankly at Ian, who didn’t answer his question. Realizing the gaze, Ian just smiled and walked ahead.

“Didn’t you see Arsen’s eccentric behavior earlier? I’m just worried, just in case.”

Philea has Nersaren and the warriors, and above all, her political options are limited.

But Jin? The child is in the eye of the political storm, so Arsen will throw Ian’s secret in any way to shake things up.

‘I just need to protect Jin myself.’

“Please get in.”

Ian personally opened the carriage door and guided Grand High Priest Lily and Ranco inside. As they entered the independent and enclosed space, Ian revealed the hidden main point.

“Abidel’s oracle was wrong.”

“…Pardon? What are you saying?”

“Ten years ago, what she heard was not the voice of God, but the voice of a demon. It was the scheme of a demon who hated Roberside and wanted to bring Bariel to ruin. I am certain that demon is Arsen.”

The Grand High Priest pulled back her robe instead of answering. As expected, sparse white hair and wrinkles like an old tree revealed the passage of time. The old woman frowned as if dumbfounded.

“…I wasn’t this shocked even when I first received an oracle. Are you really Minister Ian of the Ministry of Magic? This is the Carbó Temple. Carbó, which has been with us since the founding.”

On the other hand, Ranco, seemingly afraid, bowed his head deeply and clasped his hands together. He seemed to be praying for forgiveness for those irreverent words.

“I know. I understand you can’t believe it right away. But your understanding isn’t important right now. The mana confirmation ceremony is right around the corner, and I will reveal it then.”

“Lord Ian.”

“What I want is one thing.”

Clip-clop!

The carriage shook violently. The Grand High Priest stumbled and grabbed the armrest, but her bewildered gaze remained fixed on Ian.

“I want you, with your years of experience, to give a final confirmation on whether the mana confirmation ceremony I’ve prepared is feasible. And if you see a demon…”

Splash!

The carriage wheels cut through a puddle of water. The rainbow they had seen in the Ministry of Magic’s garden appeared faintly. This moment, as Ian rushed forward, made the rainbow appear.

“Help me deal with the demon. And give His Highness Jin a new life. That is the only way to make amends for Carbó’s mistake.”

“Lord Ian. What on earth-“

Just as the Grand High Priest was about to object, the Ministry of Magic building came into view outside the window. Abidel and Makael were standing on the steps. The two, who had removed their robes and showed their faces, were running towards them with tears in their eyes.

‘This can’t be.’

Though she couldn’t believe it, Lily didn’t utter those words. Ian had said he didn’t want an answer. She remained silent for a moment, making the sign of the cross with her fingertips. Over and over again.

***

Clatter.

Gale stirred the soup with his spoon. Sure enough, something round caught on it again.

It was a bead slightly larger than a pill. He set it aside and lightly tapped it to break it open. With a clinking sound, a rolled-up piece of paper was revealed.

“Ridiculous.”

The rumors about Gale seeking asylum must have spread faster than expected. Every mealtime, whether in soup or bread, there were scraps of paper inserted. All were attempts at contact from those wanting to go to Ruswena.

Gale rubbed his forehead in irritation.

Knock knock.

“Your Highness. I heard the sound of glass breaking. Are you alright?”

“…”

Philea poked her head in. Instead of answering, Gale pushed away the bowl, signaling for the meal to be cleared. Five notes were already piled up in his drawer. Notes with the clear handwriting of the defectors Ian desired.

“I’m worried because your meals have been poor lately.”

“What is there to worry about? I’m going to die anyway.”

“…Well, I won’t be able to join you for meals tomorrow. Ian is holding the mana confirmation ceremony, and I think I should go…”

Philea smiled awkwardly as she cleared away the dishes. But her fingertips were trembling ever so slightly, having heard the rumors circulating in the palace late. On the day of the mana confirmation ceremony, either Arsen or Ian would die.

“Why?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard, Your Highness.”

Philea hesitantly relayed the palace rumors. The rumor that Arsen was a demon, and if not, Ian would die. Gale slowly turned his head, his eyes wide.

“What?”

“That’s why I want to go. Even if my going doesn’t change much, I’m worried.”

‘…Arsen is a demon?’

Gale bit his cigarette, pondering deeply. He wasn’t sure how the situation was unfolding, but one thing was certain…

“Philea.”

“Yes?”

“I have a favor to ask.”

Philea tilted her head, holding the plates. A favor? How could a prince be asking her for a favor?

“Tomorrow, take me to the mana confirmation ceremony too.”