Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor
Chapter 15

Beric, at seventeen, was a bit of an odd child. Resembling his red hair, his temperament was fiery, and his training peers didn’t much care for him. It had been like this since he first joined.

When the military training chief instigated a fight, vowing to subdue him, Beric fought back without surrendering until his arms and legs were on the brink of breaking. Ultimately, he finished with unconsciousness.

‘A kid who won’t win, but refuses to lose.’

That’s how all the trainees referred to him behind his back.

“Rest.”

“Sigh.”

“Move to the shade.”

In the training ground where the hot sun was blazing, everyone staggered at the instructor’s order to rest. Meanwhile, no one bothered to help Beric up.

As if he didn’t expect any help, Beric just closed his eyes and caught his breath. In a bit, he’d move by himself.

“Beric?”

Beric squinted at the unfamiliar voice calling his name. The golden-haired figure before him was vividly bright, but that was it. His vision was blurry, he couldn’t see properly.

“Can you stand?”

“…Who are you?”

“Ian.”

“Get lost.”

He knew that the Count Bratz had a bastard son. But he didn’t realize that this kid standing before him was the one.

Beric didn’t care. Having lived in the barracks for almost six months, he didn’t even know the names of his roommates. There was no way he’d know a kid who had just moved into the mansion a month ago and lived like a hermit.

‘What an unpleasant personality.’

On the other hand, Ian looked down at him thoughtfully. No matter how he looked, the child fits the characteristics of a magic swordsman.

It might be prejudice, but somehow, all the magic swordsmen he had seen had that kind of attitude. Always itching to lash out at something or someone, as if they couldn’t rest until they’ve cut something apart.

“Such a rude attitude.”

“Ahh…”

Ian scolded him while pouring water on his face. Beric merely opened his mouth, eyes still closed, perhaps because it felt refreshing.

Ian glanced back. From the shade, Chel and Deo, the trainees, watched him with curious looks. They seemed puzzled, unable to guess what the bastard son himself was trying to do.

‘Should I give it a test?’

Ignoring them, Ian squatted down. Pretending to feed him water, he grabbed Beric’s chin. His magic power flowed from his touching fingertips.

“……”

Beric’s face, which had been scrunched up, gradually relaxed. How should he put it? It felt like the block of pain that was filling his body was slowly melting.

Just a little more, just a little more……

Perhaps thinking it was the relief brought by water, he seemed ready to lick up even what had been spilled on the ground. Ian scattered what was left and got up.

‘It’s done.’

Ordinary people cannot accept pure magic. This is due to the difference in the density of the vessel that contains the power. Magic users have a solid vessel that doesn’t leak magic, but ordinary people can’t hold it, like a vessel full of holes.

That was the reason healing and illusion magic were highly valued. Any attack magic can simply pour out all at once, breaking the vessel, no matter who the target is. But transforming magic into a form that the target can accept, as in healing or illusion, is a high-level skill.

Anyway, what about Beric?

Not only did he accept the magic carefully, but his reaction was also immediate. Despite being a very faint power, he reacted as desperately as a newborn seeking its mother’s breast.

‘He has potential.’

It was an unexpected harvest. Ian never thought there would be a sprout of a magic swordsman in such a place.

Releasing his magic, Ian headed towards Chel and Deo. Chel was sweating profusely, already looking exhausted. He hadn’t done anything, just standing there.

“Big brother. Let’s call it a day and go back.”

That was exactly what he wanted to hear. Chel’s face brightened up, flushed with joy.

“Sh, should we?”

“And starting from tomorrow, you can train with me.”

His face fell again, looking as gloomy as if he’d just been plunged into the mud. Is it because he’s still a kid? It’s hard to understand why his emotions are so blatantly displayed on his face.

“As the next Count, you should,” Ian added with a light smile. Meanwhile, Beric was still lying on the training ground, feeling the remnants of the magic power.

※※※

“Going to the training ground with Chel?” Dergha asked.

It was just when he had perfectly sorted out everything contained in the magic stone brooch. Although he had called him when the sun was up, outside it was already densely starry.

Ian soothed his throat that had been exhausted from speaking all day.

“Yes. Although it’s right in front of the mansion’s back door, I need to go out, so I’m asking for Father’s permission.”

Dergha pulled out the magic stone from the glass container and wiped it with a dry cloth. His expression seemed grim, but somewhat indecisive.

“There’s no ulterior motive. As I’ve told you, even going outside once can be very exhausting. If both of the young heirs of the family are in such a state, it will be a disgrace to the Heavenly tribe, and above all, I worry that we won’t be able to endure when crossing the border and passing through the desert.”

It was a reasonable argument. Dergha pushed aside a pile of documents and threw a word. His tone was arrogantly testing.

“Being outside often will excite you.”

It was a question of, ‘How do I know if you’ll have a different idea?’ It was honestly uneasy for him for Ian to regularly meet Molrin, and he also didn’t like the idea of continually giving Ian opportunities.

Ian took out a letter from his pocket. “This is the response to the pocket letter you gave me previously.”

A letter to Ian’s mother. He used it as a substitute answer. ‘You know better than anyone that while my mother is around, I can’t engage in nonsense, Dergha.’

Dergha lightly unfolded the neatly folded paper.

“Please add that I am still not proficient in writing to my mother.”

At that point, Dergha had already heard from the housekeeper that a private tutor had written Ian’sreply during class time.

Rustle.

He unfolded the letter. The handwriting was messy, but the affection contained within could definitely be felt.

—Mother, don’t worry. I am doing well here. The Count, the Madam, and the young master all take good care of me. I will surely find what you asked for. Please remain safe until the day I return. I send you my longing with a short verse. When the moon falls from the sky, the sun rises. There is no eternal darkness.

The last line seemed to be a secret code between them.

Dergha stroked his beard looking at the sentence where Ian promised to find a gureut leaf. It was an act to hide a subtle smile rising on his face.

“What did your mother ask for?”

“Didn’t you… see the pocket letter?”

It was a testing question, but an unexpected answer came.

Dergha raised his head and looked at Ian’s face. Rarely clear, it was evident that he cared about his mother’s message to keep it a secret from Dergha. A smile appeared on Dergha’s lips that he couldn’t hide.

“Do I look so idle to you?”

“…No, I don’t know, but it’s a hair ornament that Heavenly tribe women usually wear.”

But all of this was also within Ian’s calculation.

In a situation where he had to hide his mother’s request, acting doubtful whether Dergha had checked the letter. Deliberately lowering his eyes and letting his voice shake as if on guard……

Ah, I really can’t do it. Acting is not only out of my taste but I also lack talent.

Then how stupid is Dergha, who is completely fooled by such Ian.

“If you allow it, I’ll go to the training ground from tomorrow.”

Ian desperately turned his words around. Although he had already coaxed Chel and received Dergha’s permission through him, he needed to wrap it up surely.

Dergha stroked his beard and nodded his head. “Do not dare to use the training as an excuse to hurt Chel. If you do, Deo will cut your throat on the spot.”

To nonchalantly utter such terrifying words to a child. Ian nodded his head and bowed. He did not forget to say thank you.

“By the way, when are you meeting Molrin again?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

He would go out to meet them again the day after tomorrow.

At Ian’s words, Dergha frowned as if thinking something. Probably due to the countess’s opposition, Chel wouldn’t be able to accompany him then.

“I understand.”

With a wave of his hand, Dergha urged him to leave. Even as he turned to go, Ian didn’t forget to scrutinize the desk.

There must be something related to taxes among that…

Click.

Standing in the dark corridor, Ian thought of Molrin. What exactly was the value they saw in him?

He didn’t know in detail, but it seemed clear they were trying to oust Dergha. Casually, even considering putting Ian forward in place of Chel.

‘In that case, the tax issue is the biggest one. They must’ve been suspicious of Dergha’s tax evasion as well.’

However, it was dangerous too, evading taxes against the imperial palace was one of the most serious crimes. If unlucky, the charge of treason could be applied, and everyone bearing the Bratz family name could be executed.

If Ian doesn’t intervene… he might receive the punishment of falling into slavery.

‘Whatever the case, it’s dangerous.’

If the Bratz name disappears, the family line disappears, and so does Ian’s existence and value. This means that his future survival is in jeopardy.

A tightrope walk with his life on the line.

Dergha was trying to sell Ian off to the desert, and Molrin was trying to eliminate Bratz as a whole. He should stay alert in the middle of them.

‘However, it looks like they’ve planted eyes and ears in the mansion. Especially, they seemed to be quite sure about the letters.’

“Master Ian?”

A servant called him, holding a lantern. It was a call to return to his room. Ian followed the servant, crossing the hallway. Due to being the highest part of the mansion, the flickering lights of the training grounds could still be seen from the window.

“They’re working hard late into the night.”

At Ian’s warm murmur, the servant walking ahead quietly laughed. Hadn’t Ian been the one who was stuck in Dergha’s office all day, suffering the most? To the boy who was served clean food in the dining room every day, the servant felt a subtle sense of familiarity.

“We’ve prepared a change of clothes in your room.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

“Have a peaceful night, Master Ian.”

Meanwhile, in the training grounds, men with heated bodies were still swinging their swords and spears, and the most conspicuous among them was the redhead, Beric.

“What the hell did that bastard eat today?” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ NʘvᴇlFirᴇ.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

“Seriously, he’s full of energy.”

“He looked like he was dying during the day.”

Beric, whose energy used to wane like a candle going out at sunset, was still swinging his sword even after everyone else had returned to their quarters. It was inexplicable.

Swoosh!

Whack!

With all his might, Beric sliced off the dummy’s neck. For the first time, he felt the sword move according to his will. His ragged breaths were soaked in joy and pleasure.

“Haha… this is it, damn it.”

What could it be? Was it the result of his training finally showing? Or because he had been down all day? He didn’t know why the image of a blond boy under the sun popped up, but Beric once again gripped his sword.

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