Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor
Chapter 16

The atmosphere at the training ground was slightly awkward. The energy was just as high as the day before, but knowingly or unknowingly, everyone’s attention was directed at one spot.

The noble lords they served.

“You need to properly warm up. If you don’t, the risk of injury is high.”

“Ugh, like this?”

The physical training of their masters fell to Deo. He was the only one still using the injury as an excuse to laze around, but he was a competent individual regardless of his temperament. Dergha trusted him enough to include surveillance of Ian and immediate punishment if any problems arose in his duties.

“Brother (hyungnim), stretch your arm further back.”

“Ah, I can’t. It hurts too much.”

However, to the eye, Ian seemed to assist Chel very diligently. As long as Deo was present, wouldn’t everything be reported to Dergha? Misunderstandings are foolish, and complacency invites wise action.

“We’ll start with basic fitness, but you cannot quit halfway. After about an hour of running, I’ll show you how to hold a wooden sword.”

Chel, whose nose was running, grimaced as if he was going to die. As time passed, it was clear the sun was going to get hotter. Deo glanced at the expressions of the two children as he checked the clock.

‘If they’re pushed this hard, they’ll quit in a few days.’

It was bothersome, but in the long run, both of them should stay away from the training ground. Even if Ian, being sold to the Heavenly tribe, was excused, there was still Chel. As the days passed, wouldn’t he have more dealings with Count Bratz? If he happened to hand over the command of the soldiers, it would be the same as stealing his rice bowl.

“By the way, where are the knights?”

Ian, who had been slowly stretching, asked. He had wondered about this yesterday as well, but most of the trainees gave off a rough and rugged aura. He hadn’t seen anyone with the refined aura typical of knights.

‘Of course, starting with Deo, who isn’t a knight.’

Deo seemed to be without a title. All the household servants called him different things. Among the many names, he had never heard the word ‘knight’, nor had he seen him wearing a family crest.

“The gentlemen have their own training ground due to their noble bodies. This place is filled with guys who picked up a sword after a hoe. Why? Do you want to be taught by a knight?” Deo laughed as he tapped the ground with his stick. Today, his teeth seemed unusually dark. His tone was sloppy, like someone waiting to be picked on.

“I see. Each has their own suitable teacher, don’t they?”

What Ian meant was that Deo was just the right level for a beginner. But whether the man understood up to that point or not, he only snorted loudly and turned his back.

“Alright. Then, let’s start running.”

There was no such thing as a knightless territory. Knights were the elites in any territory. The same was true for the Bratz territory. It was obvious they were silently performing escort and command duties.

‘Should be about ten at most if we go all out.’

The number of knights that nobles could maintain was limited due to restrictions from the imperial court. A knight, commonly acknowledged, is someone recognized for their skill and experience. They are incomparable forces, having been through numerous battles with monsters big and small, or wars with other countries. It’s an entirely different story compared to a motley crew of swordsmen from farming backgrounds.

‘They seem to be quite skilled.’

They were the ones opposing the Heavenly tribe and in the process of change. And above all, though he had been here for nearly a fortnight, not once had he felt their presence. They must be in Dergha’s shadows.

“Keep running!”

“Huff… Huff…”

Chel was dragging his feet and drooling. This happened only after the second lap. Ian was ahead of him, catching his breath lightly.

Deo, who was walking heavily, glanced at Ian. ‘This kid seems to know how to control his breath. Although he didn’t seem to be in good shape, he had an unusual knack for moving his body.’ Unlike Chel, who was falling behind, Ian consistently followed behind Deo.

On the other side,

Two children in the midst of a sword practice.

“Aaaargh!”

“Beric, you crazy bastard!”

Clash! Clash!

The one swinging his sword like a storm was Beric. His opponent staggered backward, not due to the overwhelming difference in strength, but merely as a reaction to Beric’s ferocious onslaught.

Beric’s expression was anything but pleased.

“Damn it!”

It was strange.

Wasn’t his body as light as a feather just last night? Now, upon waking, it felt as though the effects of an uningested drug had worn off. Desperate to hold on to the fading peculiar sensation, Beric furiously stabbed his sword forward.

“Hey! Ease up!”

Crash!

His sparring partner, unable to contain his frustration, yelled out. Simultaneously, the colliding swords spiraled into the air. Only then did Beric halt and catch his breath while his partner, annoyed, spat onto the ground.

“I told you I didn’t want to do this!”

“You’re the one who lost the bet this morning. Meyrul.”

No one wanted to spar with Beric. His aggressive nature, too intense to be merely training, had already injured several trainees.

His other comrades jeered at Meyrul, who mumbled curses as he retreated to the break room. Beric, left alone, picked up his fallen wooden sword.

“Beric.”

By now, the voice was familiar. Beric turned to look at Ian with his red eyes, offering a wry smile despite being drenched in sweat.

“What is it?”

“So, you’re not telling me to buzz off anymore.”

“When did I ever do that?”

“It seems you’ve really lost the taste for it. You don’t even remember what I’ve said.”

He had only found out earlier. That the young man named Ian was the one who had offered him water back then. He had unintentionally overheard the servants of the household speaking about Ian coming to the training grounds.

Ian gave a warm smile, gently patting Beric’s shoulder. “Well, it’s fine. In the scorching heat, everyone gets sun-blind.”

Beric had no desire to respond. He held an attitude that was indifferent as if saying ‘scold me if you wish.’ What could this young master do anyway? As Beric slowly moved toward the shade, Ian followed.

Beric turned around, his brow furrowed.

“Looks like it will take some time for Chel-hyungnim to come. I’m planning to take a slow walk and rest.”

Behind him, Deo was roughly dragging Chel along. The said person was at his wit’s end, falling and getting back up, constantly tripping over again.

“Do you want to eat something?”

Ian took out some well-dried beef jerky from his pocket. It was something the servants had packed so they wouldn’t starve during training. The human heart can be won over by satisfying basic desires, and the more basic they are, the more effective. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ N0vᴇlFirᴇ.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

However.

“No thanks.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no reason for me to eat.”

Beric dismissed it without hesitation.

It was unexpected. Even with Dergha’s focus on bolstering the soldiers, it was unlikely that a soldier of orphaned origins would live plentifully. It was simply a better situation than when he was outside.

“Move. Now.”

“You’re not addressing me properly. If you’re going to use honorifics, do it right.”

“……”

Still, the lad was adamant. While knowing that he was facing the young master, Ian, there was no change in his behavior. The child was thoroughly rejecting any gesture of kindness or goodwill.

This attitude may seem difficult, but only for a moment. Ian realized that this could work out well in the end.

‘Right. I need a comrade, not a flatterer.’

If one doesn’t care about trivial matters, there’s a high probability that they have a steadfast belief of their own. Once this belief is satisfied, they could likely engage in an unambiguous and neat contract.

Of course, the standard is to build a master-servant relationship based on trust and faith.

Swoosh.

Beric wound bandages around his right hand and short sword. Then, without any hesitation, he opened the door to the break room and called for his colleague, a man named Meyrul, with whom he was sparring until just now.

“Meyrul. Come out.”

“Got a sunstroke or what, calling my name out of nowhere…”

“The match isn’t over yet.”

Really, is he out of his mind? As the boy named Meyrul scrunched his face in annoyance, a bulky man from the other side stood up on his behalf. He seemed to be twice the size of Beric.

“…You’ve been acting up since yesterday, huh?”

“Beat it. I have no business with you.”

“Meyrul doesn’t have any business with you either!”

Crash!

The man grabbed Beric’s head and slammed it into the wall. It all happened in the blink of an eye. Beric, seemingly familiar with the situation, quickly retaliated by swinging his short sword without hesitation.

“Get lost!”

Wham! Thump!

Ian, nibbling on a piece of jerky, watched this unfold.

Clearly, Beric was far from normal. He acted as if he had no fear of violence at all. Plus, he showed a strong power and obsession with winning.

Wham! Thump!

The unfortunate thing was that the reality was quite sober. No matter how much Beric flitted about, he couldn’t beat a man who was twice his size.

“Crazy! This kid! Just quit it!”

Thump! Thump!

Crack!

Like kicking a ball, the man stomped on Beric’s abdomen.

Hmm. That must have hurt, Ian thought, simultaneously worrying as he saw Beric sprawled on the floor. The man dusted off his hands, laughing lightly as if it were no big deal.

“You won’t last long if you keep being troublesome. Though, I’d be thankful if you die sooner. Hahaha!”

“Urgh….”

Beric lay flat on his back, gasping for breath. Ian squatted next to him. Through Beric’s gaze, he saw a strand of golden hair fall.

“Should I deal with that guy?”

At Ian’s whisper, Beric closed his eyes. “…Get lost, you bastard.”

“Why? Don’t you want to win? There are various ways to win in this world.”

Even if Ian was a novice, he could easily handle a recruit like that with just a word.

But Beric responded by flipping him off.

“That’s meaningless.”

A strong power.

That was the only standard for living in this world. Whether it was his family kneeling and begging under his father’s violence, or his home stained with blood from a thief’s ruthless slashing, Beric could do nothing but watch.

Ian didn’t know the whole situation, but he understood the message.

“I see. That’s your belief.”

Then, Chel suddenly fell backward in the distance. Deo, who was troubled, and the other men gathered around Chel, shaking his body. Beric, still with his eyes closed, responded, “If you bother me one more time, I’ll kill you.”

“But in your current state… tsk tsk.”

“Damnit—”

Ian placed his hand on Beric’s eyes. He was crouched and bent down, his face likely invisible to others. More than anything, others’ attention had shifted to Chel falling backward.

“I have a really good method, you know.”

He could feel Beric’s gaze under his palm. A blazingly hot aura. He had the feeling that his pupils weren’t red for no reason.

“That powerful strength you want. I can give it to you.”

“You’re spouting nonsense. You madman.”

“If I give you what you need, you should also give me what I need.”

His voice was unintentionally serious. When Beric remained silent, Ian chuckled softly. The child’s failure to answer was unexpected. Seeing that even casual words were hard to utter, he seemed to have a serious personality despite his frivolous tone, Ian deemed.

—Ziiing.

Without hesitation, Ian channeled his magic. A bit more than yesterday, but still not enough to awaken fully. Given that a magic swordsman serves their master for at least a year, the brat too would need to devote similar time.

“…!”

Beric’s fingertips twitched. The pain that had corroded his body felt as if it was being washed away by water in an instant. It was so refreshing, it felt icy cold, jolting his consciousness awake. Beric jumped to his feet, hearing the pounding of his heart in his ears.

“Ahem.”

Ian, startled, removed his hand. In that moment, Beric’s gaze met his golden pupils. A brief clash.

Slowly, Beric turned his head. Everything felt sensitive, as if dead nerves were coming back to life. The man who had knocked him down was standing with his arms crossed, watching Chel.

“Tsk, tsk. If you’ve been like this from the start…”

“So this is why Count Bratz…”

The voices lingered in his ears. With twinkling eyes, Beric ran reflexively. Like a beast jumping at a signal. His wooden sword was too cumbersome, so he threw it away and lunged with his fist.

Thwack!

“Aaaargh!”

“…?”

A man turned his head at the scream. The sight he was met with was Beric rushing toward him, his face pale. Somehow, even though there wasn’t a breath of wind, his hair fluttered.

Only Ian knew that it was the flow of magic.

Sᴇarch the n0vᴇl(ꜰ)ire.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.