Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor
Chapter 5

“Master Ian?” Sᴇaʀch* Thᴇ NʘvᴇlFɪre.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

The child called out, watching Ian’s mood. His complexion didn’t look particularly bad, but there was an unusual gloom about him. Rumors had been going around that Ian was different today, but no one expected it to be to this extent.

“Ah, yes.”

Only then did Ian understand the reason behind Chel’s behavior.

Initially, holding his mother’s life as collateral, it was understandable that such cruel words would spill out. Ian gave a small smile and expressed his gratitude to the child.

“It’s fine. There’s nothing to relay.”

“Eh? But why……” the child’s eyes widened as if this was an unprecedented occurrence.

Wasn’t it the same Ian who used to tell her all sorts of trivial stories every time before she left? The servants also didn’t know how to write, so they would sketch and memorize things roughly with pictures.

“My father has gone out.”

“The Count?”

Today was a special day with a banquet held due to pressing circumstances. It meant that the Count’s schedule was also different from usual. It seemed the child had overlooked this fact.

“It will be troublesome if we bump into each other by coincidence. Besides, you’re not exactly of age. It’s better to limit your ventures outside.”

Hearing this, the child remembered Ian always mentioned the red-light district, which was a dangerous place even in Ian’s era. It was probably even more dangerous 100 years ago. If you’re unlucky, even a healthy man could collapse due to frailty and get his pocket picked. Ian couldn’t send a child to such a place.

“Will you be alright?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Don’t you often cry late into the night……”

The child knew that Ian was crying late into the night? Did he share a room with someone? If not, it meant that there were people outside Ian’s room late at night.

‘So, they’ve set surveillance on me too.’

Fortunately, he figured it out before making a mistake. Ian replied with a faint smile.

“I’m fine. I won’t cry anymore.”

“But, then, the errand fee……”

“Errand fee?”

The one who seemed about to cry now was the child. Twiddling her fingertips, she made an awkward face. Ian reflexively reached into his pocket, but found nothing.

“If I can’t bring food today, my siblings might starve. I’m truly fine, so please give me an errand. I promise I won’t make a single mistake in delivering your message.”

The errand fee wasn’t money. Of course, the child was born poor and was now semi-forcibly confined in the mansion. There’s no way she could have even a single penny.

“Please, Ian-nim.”

Then, what could Ian offer her in this mansion? That would be three square meals a day.

‘Right, she did look awfully thin.’

The Heavenly Tribe was a strong and resilient barbarian tribe. They were so strong that a single person could rival dozens of others, enabling their tribe to become a thorn in the side of the Bariel Empire. With the standards for physique already vastly different, if the Count were to send such a scrawny child like himself, surely there would be complaints.

As a result, his meals were as equal as those of the Count’s family. This was everything that Ian could offer and a sort of currency that could be used outside.

“There are five siblings in total. If I can’t bring the errand fee, they’ll have to fill their bellies with grass,” the child pleaded earnestly, even using her hands.

Ian had suspected that the estate was impoverished but didn’t expect it to be this bad. However, in a situation where he couldn’t even guarantee his own safety, he couldn’t just blindly heed the child’s circumstances.

After a moment of contemplation, Ian nodded, “Alright. But there’s a condition. This time, it’s a prepayment. The errand fee will be given first, and when I need it later, you’ll do the task then.”

“Ah!”

Perhaps it was a much-welcome proposal, the child repeatedly bowed in gratitude.

So, there was someone who would help Ian here. Although their relationship was bound by transactions, what does it matter? Having an ally in any form was better.

“And I want to address you more casually.”

Thinking that he should know the child’s name at this point, he casually probed. It was a statement laced with the implication that there would be more tasks for the child in the future.

Recognizing Ian’s intentions, the child smiled broadly and answered, “Please call me Hannah! Everyone in the mansion calls me that!”

Previously, Ian used to call out with ‘there’ or ‘you know’. As if she had been waiting, Hannah introduced herself repeatedly.

※※※

Ian’s room was the last one at the end of the third-floor corridor. As soon as the door opened, a strong musty smell wafted out. The small window seemed woefully insufficient for ventilation. It was clear that this wasn’t a guest room, but rather a servant’s room.

Creak.

The old chair creaked, but it couldn’t distract Ian’s focus. Thankfully, in one corner, there was some cheap paper and pen holders. It was evident that a child had been practicing their writing here. It was more accurate to say that they had been drawing the words rather than writing them.

‘The year 1100 of the Empire.’

Ian was able to determine the exact date from Hannah.

He had been in the year 1198, so he had almost returned to a century in the past. His guess of roughly 100 years had been correct. Ian let out a weary sigh and brushed back his golden hair.

‘Where should I even start from…’

Whether it was Naum or not, it was clear that he had been caught in someone’s time-space magic. If not, it was an illusion that one sees at the moment of death.

‘For now, the only thing is that the person I’ve taken over and I have the same name.’

But it was also difficult to attribute a large significance to this. The name ‘Ian’ was neither rare nor special.

Swoosh.

Ian casually jotted down significant events on the paper to clear his head. If this was an illusion, or a different world, things would proceed differently from his expectations.

“Hmm.”

Ian had no problem writing down the historical timeline of events that would occur in Bariel. There were gaps here and there, but it didn’t matter. The lack of memorable events meant it had been peaceful.

“But really, how come there are so few sheets of paper on a kid’s desk?”

The clean paper quickly filled up with countless characters. The only remaining paper was filled with things which were probably Ian’s sloppy handwriting. Heaving a sigh, Ian tried hard to decipher what it was, although he couldn’t quite make it out.

‘These are letters, right? Judging by the pattern, something was written… Could it be in Bariel language?’

Knock knock.

It was then. Upon hearing a noise from outside, Ian stealthily slid the paper into a drawer and turned around. He didn’t know who it was, but anyone reading the letter could pose a problem.

“Come in.”

“I will leave your evening meal here, Master Ian.”

Ah, it’s Hannah.

The phosphorescent stone was a much cheaper light source than candles. It only glowed dimly enough to make out shapes in the darkness.

“Could you fetch me a candlestick?”

“Ah. Well, to enter Master Ian’s room, we need the Countess’s permission.”

Her awkward reply came from beyond the door. Given the miserable state of the room, it was unlikely she would comply. Wasn’t she the child, the very ‘mistake’ her husband made outside? One could imagine how much of a thorn in the side she would be.

‘Should I be grateful just for not starving?’

“…Shall I go and ask?”

The chances of receiving a used candlewick, and the likelihood of being hounded about why it’s needed.

Which one was higher? Especially on the day when her proud son Chel made a mistake in the reception room.

“No. It’s okay. You can go now.”

“I will excuse myself then.”

The sound of Hannah’s footsteps fading could be heard.

Ian picked up the pen again. He had tried to dip the pen several times, but it was too dark now, to the point where he couldn’t even see the inkwell. He leaned back in his chair and looked towards the door.

Creak.

There was a small tray placed in front of the door. Two chunks of barley bread, a piece of cheap ham, and some water.

“What the?”

It was a meal that Hannah had left for him as a chore, stripped down to the bare minimum. No wonder he was feeling weak after surviving on this. Ian grumbled under his breath as he picked up the tray and came back in.

He wasn’t satiated, but who can conduct business on an empty stomach?

As he soaked the bread in water, he grumbled. Even the orphans on the battlefield didn’t eat this way. Back then, there was at least grulla soup…

“Ah!”

A gust seemed to blow through his foggy mind. Everything became clear as he scratched at an itchy spot.

Right, he had thought something was odd when he looked at the kitchen.

It was a bountiful meal, but it felt somehow hollow.

‘There was no grulla.’

Grulla was a vegetable rich in nutrients and often eaten as a substitute for a meal. Regardless of taste, its bitterness and versatility made it an essential food item for every Bariel citizen.

The ‘discovery’ of grulla was an event of such significance that it could be said to be a turning point in the Empire’s history.

It had reduced the number of deaths from starvation by nearly 85% every year. Economically and lifestyle-wise, Bariel would be divided into before and after the discovery of grulla.

‘The discovery of grulla was originally about 50 years from now.’

A discovery, not an invention.

It wasn’t about creating something that didn’t exist, but discovering something that did. Grulla seeds from the East were considered toxic, not recognized as edible, and discarded in the mountains and fields where they naturally became indigenous.

‘For 50 years, no one knew how to eat the strange food from the East.’

However, Ian knew how to eat grulla. In other words, if he ‘discovered’ grulla, he could erase the famine in Bariel’s history.

“My goodness.”

Ian wished, for a moment, that all of this was real.

That this was not a magical illusion

‘Ian-nim. It’s okay. Opportunities are always, always there. God does not give unanswered questions.’

Naum’s last words lingered in his ears. Although he didn’t know the details yet, he felt like he could find an answer. Whatever it was.

‘Let’s try to survive somehow.’

And go to the Imperial Palace, to trace Naum.

That was the first answer Ian came up with.

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