Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor
Chapter 43

Clang!

Beric’s swinging sword was barely blocked by Deo. Even though Beric’s skills had grown tremendously, due to a gaping hole opened in his side, the injury greatly affected the balance of his skills.

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“Beric, are you okay?”

At Ian’s call, Beric turned around. His grin was exceedingly joyful.

“Yeah-yeah. Don’t talk to me. Master.”

He spat out blood-mixed saliva, but who would argue with him saying that he’s fine? He lunged at Deo once again like a flash of lightning, his sword drawing a large arc, aiming persistently for Deo’s vitals.

Clang! Shiing!

“My lord!”

Deo narrowly avoided it but had no time to tend to his master. Perhaps this was quite displeasing, as the smile on Beric’s face slowly disappeared.

Dergha lunged at Ian again without a care.

“Die, Ian!”

Fwing! Shee-eek!

The Count’s curse became a flare. The warriors of Cheonrye shot their arrows in unison, and those with swords instead of bows jumped over the mossy rocks and ran.

They were unmistakable predators in front of prey.

Each step was powerful, precise, and destructive. The atmosphere was almost alien, as if they were feeling the sheer pleasure of slaughter.

Chyaaak!

Fwook!

“Aaah! Save me!”

“Good. You run well. Now run away more.”

“Drive them, drive them that way!”

“Gendalo! I said I would take that one!”

The warriors easily took down the scattering soldiers. Dergha’s men might be exceptions, but these were just expendable people to them. The damp earth soaked up the blood.

“Ahh, should we take the corpses?”

“Just the heads. We can’t carry the bodies. Too much trouble.”

Cheng! Cheng!

“That side looks a bit useful.”

“Did you say Bel? Seems like you’re a friend of that knight.”

The remnants were quickly dealt with. The warriors of Cheonrye gathered menacingly around the elite knights, like a pack of wolves eyeing their prey.

Meanwhile, Dergha staggered and drooled, drawing ragged breaths. Soo simply deflected Dergha’s attacks, offering no retaliation. He was simply exhausted.

“Ian…! Ueek.”

“You are being troublesome, Father.”

“You, how the hell did you…”

Soo then grabbed Dergha’s hair and pinned him to the ground. Dergha struggled in vain beneath Ian’s feet, his face contorted.

Ian muttered as he knelt on one knee.

“I don’t know if it’s bravery or greed. How did you collaborate with Bumart in the desert that even Winchen is holding out against? Either way, it doesn’t concern me, but it’s hard to watch as a son.”

Scritch.

The chilling sound of the blade made Dergha’s eyes bulge. Soo was calmly cutting off Dergha’s hair.

An enemy who attempted to kill a spiritual pillar and lure her own family to the ground. A betrayer who sharpened his sword behind their back after forming an alliance.

“What, what are you doing! What are you doing!”

“Cutting (this) instead of the neck. It’s not the time yet.”

For perfect revenge and strategy, there are times when one must endure. To soothe boiling rage, something had to be cut.

“This, lowly, do you think you’ll be safe after this!”

“You’re noisy. It feels like I’m skinning a pig.”

“What, what did you say? You vulgar thing!”

“If you don’t like your hair, can I cut your neck next?”

Soo muttered, holding a dagger to Dergha’s throat. Hot, fierce anger dripped from him. Dergha swallowed hard, his eyes wide with despair, and at that moment, witnessed blood spurting from Deo’s neck.

“Ugh….”

“De, De, Deo….!”

As if playing a game, Beric slowly circled around Deo. Like practicing, he mercilessly jabbed at vital points. Deo hunched forward, eyes wide open.

Thump!

“Argh!”

Then to the left. The knights surrounded by the Cheonrye were the same. The moment they showed weakness, they were ferociously bitten at the nape. Even the knights, thought to be elites, fell helplessly.

“Sigh…”

“Do not worry. This is not the place where my father will die.”

Ian warmly smiled while gently touching Dergha’s cheek. Then, Soo flipped a black cover onto Dergha’s head and tightened it with a string.

Whack! Whack!

“Aaargh!”

Then mercilessly came the thrashing. Even the warriors cleaning up the corpses stepped on Dergha’s back and spat out curses at him.

Whack! Thump!

“You son of a b*tch, daring to harm Chief Winchen…”

“When will he die, Sir Ian?”

“Can’t we just finish him off now?”

Dergha had either fainted long ago or was just trembling his hands, wetting himself. He was a spitting image of Chel back then.

Ian glanced at Kakantir and answered, “First, hand him over to the central authority, then we’ll create an opportunity later.”

If they had control, Dergha’s execution could be conducted as Cheonrye desired. However, first, Ian had to win trust by complying with the wishes of the imperial palace, not Erica, but the central figures in Bariel, a fortnight’s journey away.

Unlike the warriors that were ready to eat again, Kakantir nodded from a distance. It meant they all understood.

“Everyone, clean up.”

“Yes, Kakan.”

“Kakan! I see signs of the central army in the distance.”

“They’re a step too late!”

Beric chuckled, wiping the blood on his sword with his pants. Perhaps it was a satisfying warm-up, as he looked much more relaxed.

“Beric. Your wounds? It’s hard to treat them here.”

Medical supplies were limited, and there were many injured local people from the battle. Adding Beric to that would be problematic.

However, Beric casually shrugged, showing his bandaged wound that a Cheonrye doctor had wrapped.

“I’m really okay?”

“…How in the world?”

“I don’t know. Maybe every time I swing the sword, the stress goes away, and that makes me heal faster? The root of all evil is stress!”

Shiik, shing! Despite swinging his sword with finesse, his words were lighthearted. Ian looked carefully at Beric’s wound but couldn’t figure it out.

“Let’s go down!”

“Let’s quietly mess with the central army!”

“You’re the noisiest one. Ahahaha.”

A warrior carrying Dergha in a sack shouted.

Ian passed the beheaded corpses and headed towards Bratz’s mansion. Over them, the Cheonrye’s hawks continued to circle.

* * *

“Commander Erica, Commander Erica!”

“The Cheonrye tribe has returned!”

Clatter!

Erica immediately went to the window and pulled back the curtain at her subordinate’s call. The tribesmen entering the main gate with pride, all covered in blood, and holding an unidentifiable sack.

“The central army?”

“A messenger has flown from the west, it seems they will camp in the forest. They found traces of Dergha and his soldiers.”

Click. Erica gnawed at her nail, frowning. She had a bad feeling. The smiles of those who had returned to the same forest seemed unusually bright.

Ian, who had dismounted from Kusilre, entered the office with a few warriors.

“Wait, you need to ask for Commander Erica’s permission—!”

“Quiet. Are you renting this mansion?”

“Mind your manners! We are the imperial palace’s investigation team!”

“Oh? We’re the center of the Great Desert. Get lost.”

From the noise in the corridor, it seemed that Erica’s subordinates had stopped Ian’s group. Erica sighed and opened the door to her office. The spacious corridor was crowded with men.

“What’s all the commotion?”

“E-Erica-nim.”

Ian lightly fixed his sweat-soaked hair and bowed his head. It was undoubtedly a polite gesture, but it lacked any respect or reverence.

“What’s the commotion? I asked. Ian.”

“We’ve just come back after following Dergha’s trail, so what else could it be?”

At Ian’s gesture, a warrior threw a sack on the ground. The hallway resounded with a dull thud.

“Heeek!”

What rolled out from inside were the heads of soldiers. Some were torn off, while others were cleanly cut. Erica turned pale and covered her mouth, and the warrior grinned smugly.

“My apologies. Since you’ve made a bloodbath out of Bratz, I thought you would be used to this.”

“Shut up! They said they wanted to see, so…”

“Ah, the real one is here.”

Thud!

Another sack was thrown, sounding different.

This time, Erica opened the entrance herself and looked inside. Dergha, who had worn a mask, was meticulously packed inside.

“De, Dergha?”

“Is it really him?”

“It seems so.”

He seemed unconscious but apparently unharmed. The investigators looked at Erica hesitantly, unsure of what to do.

“Do you believe me now?”

“Hmph. It’s not like you didn’t have any skill. Move Dergha to the underground prison!”

“Ah, yes!”

The members tried to drag Dergha but struggled due to his hefty body. They barely managed to hoist him onto their shoulders, only to stagger forward precariously.

“Careful, careful!”

“Ahh!”

Thud!

How could they not laugh at the sight? The Cheonrye tribe snickered and jeered.

“Do you need our help? If you continue like this, you’ll roll along with him down to the basement. You might die before Dergha.”

“Ha ha ha ha!”

“We did well to catch him. How else would you have brought him? Maybe after you take care of him, he’ll be able to walk on his own.”

Even Kakantir couldn’t hide his laughter. Erica’s face turned red with rage, and Ian deftly changed the subject.

“So, now that we’ve caught Dergha, what do you plan to do? If possible, I’d like you to carry out the execution quickly and leave.”

“You’re quite audacious, Ian. My task here is not yet finished. I have to punish all those with the ‘Bratz’ name.”

“Does that mean?”

“I still haven’t found Countess Mary and Chel, the main figures. If you have some free time, go down to the village and look for them. You can stay there if you want.”

“Is there a possibility that they went outside?”

“Unlikely. I can pinpoint the day they disappeared. There were no women leaving the walls that day.”

With that, Erica swept back to her office, her tied hair swinging, as if claiming the space as her own. Only the confused subordinates remained in the corridor, not knowing what to do with Dergha.

“Help them move Dergha.”

“Yes, Kakant.”

After giving orders to his subordinate, Kakantir turned to Ian, his gaze asking for a moment to talk. Ian readily followed him, then hesitated.

“Why?”

Beric had thoughtlessly followed them.

Ian pretended to scan the surroundings for a moment, then instructed:

“Don’t follow me, but go see Philea.”

“Ahhh! Right! Your mother?”

“Yes. Beric, you helped her hide, so you know the way, don’t you?”

“I do, of course.”

Despite his confident answer, his expression seemed confused. This man hadn’t forgotten, had he? Before Ian could say more, Beric ran out of the mansion.

“Sir Ian.”

“Yes, Kakan.”

Ian left Beric alone and faced Kakantir. The man’s expression felt unusually stiff.

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