Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor

Chapter 65

Chapter 65

Oh my, what in the world is all this?

Theres been a commotion in the middle of the night?

Why exactly? Who did?

Master Ian was attacked on his way back to the mansion.

What?! How did that happen?

Thats what theyre investigating right now. Its a bolt from the blue for someone who just went out to distribute gruel.

Master Ian? Is one of those corpses Master Ian?

As dawn broke, people became aware of the incident that had occurred at daybreak. The mountain of corpses piled up in the alley was blocking it, making it impossible to keep as a secret. And what about the blood that flowed out to the main road?

The guards lined up the bodies in a row for identification, while everyone kept their distance, whispering among themselves.

Meanwhile, the mansion was no less noisy, especially the basement of the main building.

Arghhh!

There were two survivors among the attackers.

One was known as Petreio, presumably by conjecture, and the other was an unidentified man. Of them, Petreio, with a gag in his mouth, was screaming. He was soaked through with sweat, tears, and blood.

Do you know how terrible your situation looks right now?

Ugh

Youll die if this goes on. As soon as we confirm your identity, Ill assign a physician to you.

In fact, during his faint, a physician had already seen him. But the wounds were so bizarre and severe that the prognosis was that it would be difficult for him to survive more than a few days. Beric pressed a cloth to his face, annoyed.

Shut your mouth already!

Arghhh!

Stop making noise! Damn it, if someone saw us, theyd think I was torturing you!

Although tied to a chair and gagged, what they were doing seemed closer to nursing rather than torture. They cleaned off the filth with lukewarm water, but even that was painful due to the skin peeling off.

Ugh

Beric. Thats enough. Strip him.

Strip? Everything?

Dont leave a single cloth.

Hng.

Reluctantly, Beric followed Ians order.

Petreio was from the military. It wasnt clear exactly what kind of work he did, but it seemed certain he worked under the orders of the imperial palace. Judging by his age, he appeared to have been involved in several battles, both big and small, and in such cases, it was common to mark ones body with their identity. Even if they were torn to pieces on the battlefield, the markings were to ensure they could return to their homeland.

Ah, whats this?

Beric, while stripping off the shirt, discovered a tattoo on the left side of the ribcage. However, someone had deliberately made wounds over it, scratching away the flesh. It was meticulously prepared.

Tsk tsk.

Ian slightly bent down to examine the wound and met the mans eyes. Even with a stomach pierced and face melting away, the eyes had not lost their light. These kinds of men rarely opened their mouths easily. Molrin knew this very well too.

I have no desire to torture a man whos about to die.

But a true warrior never forgets vengeance. I hope for your sake that you have no one dear to you. For anyone who bears the name Petreio will meet the same death as you.

It was a calm statement, yet incredibly cruel. In truth, he had no such intentions, but he threw out the threat to probe for any weakness in Petreio. As expected, the man showed no reaction.

Keep an eye close on him.

Okay. Phew. The smell of blood is nauseating. Really.

Ian had no choice but to leave the cleanup to Beric and escape into the basement corridor.

Creak.

Aaaaagh!

Petreios scream leaked through the closing door before abruptly stopping. As he intended to move to the opposite end of the corridor, the sound of someone tumbling down the stairs reached his ears.

Thud! Tumble! Thump!

I, I, Ian!

Ah, Sir Romandro. Are you up?

This! This! Oh my

He had rushed over just after getting up, and he seemed to be wearing remarkably light attire. He grabbed Ians shoulder and looked him up and down, apparently flustered by how unharmed Ian appeared to be.

They say that more than a dozen warriors have died

As you can see, Im quite unscathed.

Indeed, indeed! A magic wielder is different! Indeed!

Please, try to calm down a bit.

Beric would have been horrified if he heard this. He would not understand why Ian was receiving such praise when he, Beric, was the one who had fought till he was nearly bursting.

A man named Petreio conspired and caused this mess. He seems to be a subordinate of Molrin, but we couldnt confirm his identity because he disfigured his face with poison the moment he was caught. Were investigating, but he kept mentioning some strange names.

Molrin and his party?

Theyre not much different.

At Romandros question, Ian gestured with his chin towards the last room in the corridor where Molrin and two men were locked up.

What will you do now?

Romandro paced in front of Ian, then asked as if he could not find an answer. Even if it was true that Molrin had attempted to kill Ian here, by custom, there would be no particular issue for him. Molrin was an administrative officer of the imperial palace, and Ian was, according to his claim, a commoner with the desert as his garrison. Although Ian was a magic wielder and the owner of the mansion, none of it was an official position.

Will you kill him?

No. We refuse to have more investigators sent down from the imperial palace.

If Ian were to kill Molrin, the palace would undoubtedly send more people down. If they were unlucky, Galels side might even send an army to execute Ian.

So, what then?

I dont think its my place to decide.

Hmm?

Didnt I tell you? I said I would prove it. So please relay a message to Prince Mariv. I will comply.

It was the cleanest and most straightforward method other than proving that he wasnt on Gales side. He could guess the situation in the imperial palace to some extent, but that was merely speculation. He couldnt be certain of the outcome Moirins death would bring, so it was best to pass the responsibility to Mariv.

Then, until we get a response

Let it be. That will be fine.

Understood. Ill send the message straight away.

Ah. Wait a moment. Romandro-nim.

He caught him just as he was about to hurry up the stairs. Ian had sent a ring wrapped in cloth. It was a simple silver design, but inside there was a small needle and the area around it was discolored with poison.

Have you heard of this? When pricked, it causes the face to melt away.

Hmm. Let me see

Romandro pulled his face back and narrowed his eyes.

Are you planning to use this again?

Is it possible to?

Well, you would need to refill the needle, so a technician is necessary, but its not impossible to use. The poison seems to be tevarphin. Its what assassins use to conceal their identities, or, you know, human traffickers use it frequently for their crimes that sort of thing.

Human trafficking or organ trading and such.

It was a poison actively used in crimes where the identity of the corpse should not be discovered. In Ians time, it wasnt used at all, so the fact that it existed was quite shocking.

Theres such a thing?

Its possible you didnt know, why so surprised?

He realized that such a potent poison was used 100 years ago. Ian felt chills run down his spine. Just how many crimes involving body mutilation had occurred and been covered up?

It was definitely a poison that was not recognized in Ians time. It must have been banned for some reason, but he had no way of knowing that.

Romandro glanced at Ian and then went up to the ground level, saying he would write the letter.

Ill send it as soon as I can.

Thank you. I will see you later.

Ian wrapped the ring back in cloth and put it in his pocket. Then he approached the end of the corridor where Moirins party was being held captive.

Has there been any trouble inside?

No. There wasnt any.

Open the door.

With a clank, the gatekeeper unlocked a lock as big as an adults fist. Inside, like feeding animals, only wooden utensils were carelessly placed on the floor.

At the sound of the door opening, Macks pulse reflexively quickened.

Ian, you bastard!

But he was soon stopped by the guard. Ian, putting a fallen wooden bowl back on the table, asked,

Did you get some sleep?

How dare you, a lowly creature, act out of line! Do you not realize who we are? Open the door immediately! Or else I will kill you! The imperial palace will not let you off for this!

This time, Dgor could not hide his agitation either. He seemed ready to grab by the collar and began to argue on the spot.

We are here on the orders of the imperial palace! Treating us like this is an insult to the capital! Youre acting just line in a way befitting of the borderlands! The Choenrye tribesmen! Straighten out your behavior! Ian is currently affiliated with the Cheonrye tribe! Do you not understand what it means to treat an imperial administrative officer this way?

Isnt that why you are still alive?

What, what did you say?

If it werent for the imperial banner, you would not be eating right now but sitting in the place of Petreio.

Ian said this and pulled out a ring. Holding the cloth-wrapped ring part, he thrust it close to Macks face. Mack instinctively recoiled, recognizing the item.

Petreio!

The investigation is underway. Even if a face is necrotized, it does not mean the person ceases to exist. Havent you already heard?

The red brooch that Beric had shown them. Their secret conversation had been recorded on it. However, Molrins party was not intimidated. Instead, they shouted defiantly, protesting the injustice.

This is unknown to us! If you are so confident, then hold a formal trial! What kind of sham process is this, beggarly obtained? How dare a nameless one

How could a person have a name when even a territory has lost its own? Dgor, this is the frontier, not the central regions youre used to.

Ian muttered as he dusted off Macks disheveled collar.

A subordinates mistake is a superiors mistake. Above all, the warriors of the great desert do not take vengeance lightly. There is a natural conclusion that arises from the brooch, and I do not intend to simply let this pass.

It was precisely Marivs directive to punish Molrins group. Ian, looking at the spilled barley porridge on the floor, warned,

Food is precious.

It was a warning that next time, they might have to eat off the floor. Ian gestured to the guard to keep a good watch and stepped outside.

Click.

Master Ianr! M-Master Ian!

It was then. Hanbah came running down to the cellar, calling out to Ian.

Whats the matter?

The people of the territory, theyve all come in droves!

Why had the territorys people come? For what reason?

But Hannah, apparently in a hurry, just kept running ahead.

Ian, chasing after her, pondered a few hypotheses. To plunder Grula? Or was it an armed force that Molrin had prepared?

Master Ian!

Emerging from the basement, the sunlight poured down brilliantly. The local residents below had gathered. Each held wildflowers or small fruits in their hands. They too seemed surprised to see Ian.

Look at you, all in one piece!

Oh, thank goodness. Thats a relief!

Who was it, huh? Who spread the nonsense? They said Master Ian got a massive stabbing in the stomach?

We were so worried. Hearing about the tremendous attack you faced in the middle of the night The alleys were drenched with blood.

Youre okay, right? Its so worrying that you went out in the middle of the night, oh dear.

Shh! Keep it down! The central bastards might hear.

Master Ian. Please take this. Its small but substantial.

The local residents surrounding Ian continuously poured out their worries. They checked him for any possible injuries with their eyes and placed gifts into his hands. In no time, his arms were filled with an abundance of flowers and fruits.

All of this

Ian paused, unable to continue his sentence, quietly looking down at the flowers. It was belatedly that he remembered what had helped him bear the weight of the crown for a mere three years.

Such small smiles. This was everything.

Good timing, everyones here. Sir Romandro has finally granted permission.

Permission? If its been granted then

The cultivation, distribution, and consumption of Grula.

Wow! Incredible!

Thank you! Thank you!

The unexpected good news had everyone hugging and jumping for joy. Ian gestured for them to calm down, and they all looked at him with sparkling eyes.

But theres a condition.

Just tell us!

They all became noisy, inwardly picturing a prosperous winter. Ian handed the flowers and fruits to Hannah, and conveyed his message.

Tell all the local residents to gather at the square in the afternoon. I will announce and explain then.