Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor
Chapter 27

Finally, the day had come.

Sitting on the bed, Ian watched the sunrise from outside. Ever since he woke up in the Bratz territory, he had been eagerly waiting for this moment.

Knock, knock.

“Master Ian.”

Hannah cautiously entered, calling out to Ian. It was clear she had cried the previous day. Her already small eyes were swollen, making it impossible to maintain eye contact.

“Hannah, oh my.”

“Have you packed everything?”

While he seemed on the verge of chuckling, Ian simply nodded in response to the child’s serious question. There wasn’t much to pack – a few articles of clothing, some miscellaneous books, and the only plant in the room which was distinctly ‘Ian’s’.

“It might have been better if I had more belongings.”

That way, those left behind in the mansion would have something to remember him by. Ian adjusted his collar with a smile. A single shirt of his was worth more than a couple of gold coins. The fine white embroidery and gold foil made him appear valuable.

“Where’s father?”

“He just had a coughing fit. He’s asked for you in the dining room.”

“I see. I’ll head out.”

As Ian moved to step past Hannah and leave, he paused and turned to her with a soft request.

“Hannah, if possible, I’d like you to quit working at the mansion after I leave.”

“Why? What do you mean…”

“It might be tough, but it would be better for you. Inform the others as well. Of course, make sure the Count, no, make sure the Count doesn’t know.”

Hannah looked at him, puzzled. Without offering further explanation, Ian walked away. From here on, Hannah’s choice was what mattered.

In the dining room, a fully dressed Count Dergha, Countess Mary, and Chel awaited.

“Sit.”

“Yes, father.”

This was their last meal together. Yet, the atmosphere wasn’t much different from usual. To them, Ian had never truly been a part of the family.

“You’re familiar with the procedure of the Reconciliation Ceremony?”

“There won’t be any issues.”

“Always remember the reason you live.”

“Of course, for the honor and glory of the Bratz.”

Ian seemed to be in a better mood than usual. Crossing the border, he faced an uncertain future, potentially even death. Where was he drawing such composure from? Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ NʘvᴇlFirᴇ.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

“When I return on my next birthday—” Ian paused, cutting a piece of meat and eating it. Assuming he remained alive, he would have a brief opportunity to visit during his birthday.

Count Dergha hesitated in his chewing.

“May I see mother?”

“…Ian.”

“Leaving without seeing Sir Molrin or mother doesn’t feel right.”

Molrin had hastily packed and traveled to the center after leaving the Bratz mansion on the morning of the Cheonrye Tribe’s departure. The man’s dealings with Ian had gone so well that it was only a matter of finalizing them, so there was no point in saying goodbye.

“Hmmph. Mother, you say…” Count Dergha muttered, stroking his beard. Dergha had asked Ian, to smuggle the forbidden gureut leaves in return for the child seeing his mother.

At Ian’s request, Countess Mary’s eyes flashed with anger, but Count Dergha paid her no mind.

“Fine. I might allow you to see her once.”

“Thank you.”

Didn’t Ian know yet that his mother, Philea had disappeared? Rumors suggested she’d eloped with the stable keeper next door while others said she was sold off to repay gambling debts.

“My lord, the carriage is ready.”

As their meal neared its end, a servant announced the completion of the preparations. The Count wiped his mouth and stood.

“Let’s go.”

Leading the way, everyone moved outside. A small platoon of armed soldiers and knights stood tall. It was the first time Ian had seen them since coming here.

‘Ten in total.’

It was then that Hannah and the other servants approached Ian, their eyes teary. They tightly held his hands, unable to hide their sorrow.

“Please, come back safely.”

“I’ll prepare something delicious for your birthday.”

“Master Ian, take care.”

Ian had developed a deeper bond with them in a few months than he had with the Bratz family. All he could do was smile, offering no other response. As Hannah broke down crying louder, the Count gave a stern look.

“Wailing on such an auspicious day! Servant!”

“I apologize, my Lord. I’ll caution them.”

“Let’s set off now!”

Given that most of the mansion’s servants surrounded Ian, the Count couldn’t single anyone out for punishment. Ian took Hannah’s hand and thanked her.

“I truly appreciate everything, Hannah.”

“Master! Sniff…”

“We’ll meet again.”

With the promise of a future meeting, Hannah wiped her tears. Count Dergha’s sharp gaze urged them to move, and Ian quickly boarded the carriage. In secret, Dergha grumbled, feeling clearly unhappy with the mansion’s atmosphere.

“Let’s go!”

With the driver’s whip, the mansion grew distant. Through the small carriage window, the Bratz landscape rushed by. Ian sneaked a glance at Count Dergha. ‘The seal would surely be in his possession very soon.’

‘And is the aide still unconscious?’

It had been over a week since Dergha’s aide had fallen into a coma. The chances of waking up were getting slimmer. Regardless, by the time he awoke, Ian would be in the desert.

* * *

Thud-thud-thud!

After about three hours of riding, the lush land had turned desolate. They had reached the edge of the great desert.

“We’ve arrived, Count.”

Creeeak.

As the door opened, the coachman’s voice, mixed with the wind, rustled roughly. A blue sky and golden sand dunes. In the distance, dozens of creatures called Kusilre and the Cheonrye tribe who owned them.

“Over there…”

Two massive rocks marking the border were placed. Dergha and his group passed between them and approached the Cheonrye tribe.

‘We’ve crossed the border.’

God. Had he ever crossed a border for anything other than war? Ian tried hard to hide his excitement.

Nearby stood a small temple made of white stone. Devoid of any adornments, it merely existed as space. The wear of time, eroded by wind and sand, was evident on its surface.

“Welcome, guests.”

The voice was deep and powerful. Though no one explicitly stated he was the chieftain, Ian instinctively knew. The aura of a man with absolute power was as immense and hefty as nature itself.

“Chieftain of the Cheonrye tribe in the great desert, Kakantir.”

“I am Count Dergha Bratz of the Bariel Empire.”

Then, these people slowly clasped their hands together. Following them, their wives and children also greeted and showed their respects. The main figures sat around the temple table, while their soldiers stood under the sun, watching each other.

“Firstly, we thank you for your hospitality.”

“Isn’t this a place where your troubles become ours? Think nothing of it.”

As the formalities continued, Dergha’s words flowed smoothly, as if lubricated. Kakantir’s gaze landed on Ian.

“This must be Bratz’s offering.”

“It’s an honor to meet you.”

“…The treaty.”

Dergha quickly motioned. Two pieces of parchment with the same treaty details were laid on the table. They detailed the terms of the agreement, the list of traded items, and specifics about Ian’s position.

‘Upon receiving a token of friendship from Bratz, Cheonrye will send their token within 3 years… Cheonrye and Bratz shall not violate each other’s territories from the moment the friendship treaty is signed…’

It spanned almost ten pages. After thoroughly checking the documents, Dergha nodded.

“I’ve confirmed it. While the seal is being melted for imprinting, verify it.”

“Agreed. However…”

What Bratz had prepared was a homogeneity potion. The most definitive way they knew to confirm if Dergha’s blood was genuine. It might not make sense to the Cheonrye tribe.

“I’m afraid Chief Yunchen is not feeling well enough to accompany us, so we’ll have to do our part of the verification when we get back.”

“As you wish. However, the entry permit from the palace hasn’t arrived yet. Once received, I’ll send someone immediately.”

Dergha dropped his blood into the potion. Ian did the same. The clear liquid soon turned blue. The people of Bratz gave a look of ‘Is it acknowledged?’ But the Cheonrye tribe remained unimpressed.

“Now, let’s proceed with the handwriting verification.”

Ian picked up the pen in front of him and clumsily wrote the content of the letter he had sent. The handwriting was a mess for an official occasion.

“Is it confirmed?”

“Nersarn.” The chieftain nodded and called his younger brother standing behind him. Bending forward, the young man presented a dagger and, without hesitation, cut his palm, drawing blood.

Swoosh!

Drops of blood fell off the blade’s edge. Kakantir inscribed his name with his blood as a pledge. Dergha’s face paled upon seeing this.

‘Such barbarians.’

Instead of using a seal, they use their own blood!

The count stamped the seal and waited for the wax to dry. They exchanged documents and shook hands.

“To the everlasting glory of Bratz.”

“Demosha, Gurun Tu (Happiness under blessing of God).”

They wished each other good fortune, concluding the simple agreement ceremony. As people emerged unscathed from the temple, the soldiers relaxed their guard.

“Farewell, then.”

Ian looked at Dergha. They would be heading back in carriages, but Ian had to cross the desert with the Cheonrye tribe. Dergha gave Ian a perfunctory hug.

“Ian. Be well.”

“Yes, Father.”

The hand on his shoulder was rough, but Ian reciprocated the gesture. Dergha and his entourage swiftly turned and headed back to the border rock.

“Ian.”

It was Soo. She stood with her arms crossed, looking at the remaining luggage. Kakantir, Nersarn, and a few warriors were discussing something, glancing at the sky.

“Is this all we have?”

“What? Is something missing?”

“No, it’s not that, but…”

“I’m joking. Not everything has come yet. Ah, here he comes now.”

Before Ian could finish, someone was rushing from the direction Dergha disappeared.

Through the coarse, dusty sandstorm, a red-haired figure emerged. He dismounted and dashed through the sinking desert sand. When the horse tried to follow, he kicked its hind and sent it back.

“Just in time.”

“Ian, are you ready to leave?”

At Nersarn’s shout, Soo gathered Ian’s belongings. What took two soldiers to carry, she lifted with ease.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

“Chieftain, that’s the guy I was talking about. We can use him as our slave!”

Soo told the chieftain, grinding her teeth. He chuckled and gently patted Soo’s head, then turned to Ian. He had heard rumors that the chieftain was barbaric and aggressive.

‘He doesn’t seem as bad as they say.’

It must have been a monstrous image created by the citizens of the Bratz territory. To Ian, he just looked like a trustworthy leader of a small tribe. Well, he would find out more as they spent time together.

“We need to hurry. If we’re not careful, we’ll run into a sandstorm.”

From here to the Great Desert, their base, they had to travel for several days. If they encounter a sandstorm, they could suffer a loss of strength and prolong the journey.

“Iaaan—!”

From a distance, Beric shouted. Kakantir handed over two Kusilre to Ian and silently turned away.

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