Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 110
Chapter 110
The huge moon rising over the hill behind them. The winter moon was especially clear and massive tonight. So much so that the silhouettes of the two galloping horses were backlit against it. Rather than climbing up the forest, they looked as if they were leaping towards the moon.
Clip clop! Clip clop!
Ian held Hasha in his arms as he rode his horse, while Beric followed close behind without falling back. He frantically shook the reins and spurred his horse on impatiently.
“Come on, faster! The moon is setting!”
At this point, even without Hasha’s input, Beric seemed to have a good idea of where the bandits’ hideout was located. Over the edge of the hilltop. Instinctively, he felt their lair must be down below.
Neigh!
“Oh my, aren’t they well hidden.”
Beric looked down the steep slope below them. Among the bushes, there were worn tents clustered together to form a village of sorts. Ian, who had caught up, clicked his tongue as he surveyed the overall terrain.
“For being wandering bandits moving from place to place, they sure have a good eye for land.”
The geographical conditions were almost perfectly suited for remaining hidden. Having passed through an abandoned forest and a concealed plain, one would have to ride all the way to this spot to discover them.
“Good. Now that we’ve confirmed their base, let’s go back to Karenna to gather men.”
The stolen goods the bandits had pilfered were piled up together in one spot. And next to it was Ian’s overturned carriage, as if there was a separate path wide enough for it to access this place.
“Huh? Gather men? And waste all that time?”
Beric twinkled his eyes as he gripped his sword hilt, clearly raring to draw it at a moment’s notice. Ian shook his head sideways at his battle lust.
“We don’t know their numbers or strength.”
“Who cares? I’m gonna kill them all anyway. And what if they decide to burn all the documents about the magic stones while they rummage through the stuff? Don’t you feel bad for sir Romandro?!”
“Beric. I’d appreciate it if you could hold your tongue.”
‘Putting Romandro’s worries aside, he seems eager to spring into action,’ Ian remarked with a chuckle, then turned to Hasha.
“Can you tell where your body is?”
—The main tent at the center.
Hasha’s dark pupils glared fixedly at one spot. Just then, as Beric had claimed, some of the bandits approached the carriage, visible from where they stood.
“Look at that! Sir Romandro is doomed now! He’s about to get fired, newlywed and with a newborn in tow!”
“Beric. We cannot lose sight of their leader.”
“Aye aye, Master. You circle around the side carefully on foot. I’ll go plow open a path for you.”
“…Make sure everything goes smoothly.”
Swish!
The moment Ian gave his consent, Beric spurred his horse’s flanks and shot forward like lightning. Or rather, he half tumbled and half slid down the steep slope.
Neigh!
Contrary to the startled cries of the horse, Beric’s laughter rang out clear and strong in the night air.
“Ahahahaha!”
The unusual laughter under the moonlight made the bandits, who were sorting through their loot, look around in confusion. From a distance, they could see a horse seemingly scaling down the wall.
“Huh?”
Initially, they were puzzled by the sight. Even those resting in the tents came out one by one, craning their necks to see.
“What’s going on?”
“That? Is that guy crazy?”
“Did he follow us from the village?”
“No kingdom banners on him.”
Although they picked up their weapons just in case, they weren’t truly on edge. They anticipated that the rider would crash upon landing and meet his demise.
Crash!
Sure enough, the horse, unable to handle the momentum, slammed directly into a nearby tent. The objects around were scattered, and a cloud of dust rose, blurring the vision.
Despite themselves, the bandits snickered softly.
“Tsk tsk. Reckless fools should die young for the greater good.”
“You still alive in there, idiot?”
“Shut it. Anyway, what the hell is this about all of a sud-”
Neigh!
Apparently rattled out of its wits, the horse stumbled about drunkenly before bolting away. Just as a bandit cautiously approached to nudge away the pile of debris with his foot…
Swish!
With a fluid motion, Beric’s sword traced a cool half-circle through the air, stealing the breath from a man. The movement was so smooth that the thieves watching from behind took seconds to register what had happened.
“This bastard, he’s f***ing insane…”
As the hem of their fallen comrade’s clothes soaked with blood, they realized that this red-haired figure was not a madman but a mysterious intruder. The nearby thieves charged at Berrick, swinging their axes.
“Who the hell are you?!”
Swish!
Thud!
The thickness of an ordinary blade would shatter in one strike, but Beric effortlessly parried the axe, causing the bewildered bandits to step back and mutter.
“That feeling just now…”
It felt strange, a counterattack that seemed to defy gravity with its smooth and slow motion. The bandits noticed Beric’s red eyes shining, not from the moonlight.
“Come on now. Hands up, everyone.”
Beric grinned and pointed his sword at each thief in turn.
“Who among you sacked Karenna village earlier?”
“I knew it, you followed us from that village! What, here for revenge?”
“Was it you? Did you go to the village?”
“So what if I did?”
Whoosh!
A sharp, refreshing burst of wind. It was the power of a magic swordsman that Beric had unleashed, still holding onto the
mana
Ian had transferred to him in the village.
“Pisses me off that some escaped me over there.”
Swish!
Muttering to himself, Beric plunged amidst the thieves. His sword danced about as fast as light itself. The crimson glow in his eyes were akin to a night beast on the prowl for prey.
“Argh!”
“Die, haha! I saw your face back there!”
“Shit, everyone out! Emergency!”
“What’s the damn ruckus?!”
“Gah, help, spare me plea-!”
Just as the merciless slaughter began…
From atop the hill, Ian watched the scene unfold, holding Hasha in his arms. Hasha looked up curiously at Ian’s face
—Why are you so calm?
“Hasha. Does anything come to mind when you see Beric down there?”
—Seems unhinged. Hard to get by like that, even in Astana.
“Bariel’s much the same. Very well. Let’s head down. Beric claimed he’d clear a path for us.”
Ian led his horse away from the clamor ringing by his ears.
Ian rode down, leaving the chaos behind him.
‘Even for a magic swordsman, Beric’s behavior is extreme. He has no fear and seems to revel in blind slaughter. Quite peculiar.’
In the central region, where all things converge, Ian hoped to learn more about Beric.
Ian descended the hill and reached the entrance of the encampment, finding it unguarded due to the commotion caused by Beric.
“Let’s go.”
Hasha tensed up as if nervous. They entered, but there was hardly any sign of life inside. It seemed everyone had rushed out to catch the intruder.
Crash! Thud!
A confirming explosion sounded in the distance. Guided by Hasha, Ian moved towards the heart of the encampment. Finding Hasha’s body was important, but more crucial was checking on the carriage.
“Hasha, I can let you down if you want. I need to check on the carriage first.”
—There’s not much I can do in this form. I’m fine.
Ian dismounted and approached where the carriages were parked. When a bandit appeared from behind a wagon, Ian didn’t hesitate to shoot a burst of magical energy.
Zap!
A flash of light sent the bandit tumbling backward.
“One, two, three…”
Everything that had been looted was still there. Ian nodded in satisfaction after confirming that the storage boxes containing the magic stones and documents were intact.
“Looks secure.”
As soon as he heard Ian’s mutter, Hasha took the lead, sprinting towards the central tent visible in the distance. With each leap forward, the cold air rushed into his lungs, chilling his mind. Hasha’s focus was entirely fixed on the tent.
Swish.
“Hm?”
Upon reaching the tent, Hasha encountered a massive man emerging from inside. He was so tall that he seemed nearly to touch the ceiling, exacerbated by Hasha’s upward gaze.
“What the…”
The bandit leader froze, dumbfounded by the bizarre spectacle before him. Hasha shrank away, legs leaden. With a scoff, he grabbed him by the scruff and dangled him midair.
“You damn mutt?”
Whine.
With no other choice but to save himself, Hasha feigned ignorance and struggled vigorously, hoping to catch the man off guard.
Just then…
“Blockhead!”
Beric, covered in blood, shouted robustly. He was dragging a corpse along, and the leader, caught off guard by this surreal scene, seemed to be in shock.
“You the boss here?!”
“Why you little…!”
Whoosh!
The leader threw Hasha aside and drew his axe. He had thought it was just a minor disturbance, as it was common for his men to be restless with pleasure and alcohol after a successful raid.
“Your men were quite something. Cutting them down was a delight.”
“Crazy son of a…!”
Clang! Clash!
Without hesitation, the two charged at each other, weapons colliding with a piercing metallic sound. Hasha, having regained his senses, stumbled into the tent.
“Arrggh!!”
Whoosh!
A fleeting expression of amusement passed across Beric’s face as he faced the leader. The man’s strength in swinging the ax was evidently superior to that of the other bandits.
“Hah…hah…”
The leader, having dropped his ax, was drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. Beric, noticing this, casually threw his sword to the ground.
“…?”
“I think you’ll find being beaten more to your taste than being cut.”
“Look at you, all high and mighty, what an insolent bastard.”
“How painful it must be to be put in your place by such a man!”
Thud!
The two charged at each other, fists flying. As the fight dragged on, the leader instinctively felt a sense of defeat, realizing Beric was deliberately taking hits.
Thwack! Slap!
Gradually Beric’s number of strikes increased. Though there was blood on Beric’s fists, whose blood exactly was unclear.
“Hahaha! Just as I thought! Your flesh has just the right amount of resistance.”
“Cough-! Pant!”
Boom! Bang!
The final blow. The leader’s face was crushed, and he staggered before losing consciousness. Beric dusted off his hands, about to pick up his sword again.
“Beric.”
Ian’s voice came from behind. Turning around, he saw Ian gesturing for him to stop.
“He’s someone with a lot we need to ask. Don’t kill him.”
“Ah, master, you’ve arrived?”
Swish
. Beric wiped his nose with his bloody hand and smiled brightly. Quite refreshing indeed.
“I’ve cleared the way for you.”
“The path is quite… red.”
“Nobles love walking red carpets, don’t they?”
The ground, drenched in the blood of the fallen thieves, conveyed the soggy texture of the mud under the horse’s hooves.
Ian dismounted to examine Beric, covered in blood to the point of being unrecognizable.
“Where’s Hasha?”
“Didn’t he go inside?”
“In case anything happens, watch that bandit leader.”
“Eh? But I’m curious about the inside too.”
Swish.
Ignoring Beric, Ian walked towards the tent entrance. The interior was as unsettling as the exterior, filled with an unpleasant odor. He followed Hasha’s tracks inside.
“Hasha?”
Inside a small annex of the tent, Ian found Hasha sitting quietly.
—You’ve come.
A child’s corpse with blue hair sat in a chair, half-slumped due to the ropes that were meant to hold it upright, with advanced signs of decomposition.
—So this is death.
Hasha reminisced about his reflection, his lively eyes, pale cheeks, and the dimples that appeared when he smiled. He cleared his throat, choked with emotion.
—It seems I must return to nature, as it should have been.
“Is it truly alright to do so? There’s no guarantee your soul will remain.”
—I cannot say why the control of the necromancy passed. It must be destroyed before someone more greedy sets their eyes on it. Aren’t there still living bandits outside? It would be troublesome if they woke up and started casting spells immediately.
There was logic to it, but making such a rational decision and acting on it required immense courage. It meant willingly destroying the chance to live in a human body again.
“Hasha. I commend your decision.”
-…
Hasha didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at Ian. He just kept his gaze fixed on his last remnants until the very end.
Zzzing.
Ian condensed his
mana
to burst the head of the corpse. Brain matter spilled out, and the intact form of the child was distorted. Unknowingly, a single tear rolled down Hasha’s cheek.
Now, they had truly crossed the point of no return.
Though dead, he remained an entity that hadn’t fully passed on.