Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 151

‘Lugersfell. What a name I haven’t heard in a long time.’

Ian glanced outside through the carriage window and surveyed the surroundings. Lugersfell, wasn’t it one of the most notorious slums in the capital? It was said that being assigned to this neighborhood was a demotion for guards in the security force, and it was common for them to quit, unable to endure the grueling workload. Consequently, gaps naturally formed in security, which in turn exacerbated the law and order issues in Lugersfell, creating a vicious cycle.

A breeding ground for all sorts of crimes, incidents, and accidents. The rotten underbelly of Variel. And a world of their own, filthier and more hideous than the bottom of human depravity.

“I don’t think Lugersfell used to be like this in the past.”

“Is that so?”

“Ah, Ian, you’re from the frontier, so you may not be familiar. Originally, this place was also a neighborhood where caravans temporarily stayed, like Mereloth. However, due to the large number of transients with unknown identities, as well as illegal immigrants, drug cartels, and slave caravans settling in, it has become like this.”

Romandro cleared his throat to maintain his dignity as he explained. It was because he had made eye contact with the drunkards persistently tailing them. The coachman cracked his whip and shouted at them to back off, but his words fell on deaf ears to those half out of their minds.

“Get away from there! Do you know who’s riding in this carriage?”

“It must be someone of high status! Just give us a single copper coin! The sound of the carriage has ruined our drinking mood!”

“You bastards! Move aside!”

Crack!

‘The Lugersfell I know hasn’t been around for long.’

Ian clicked his tongue as he watched the vagrants. They were so ragged and unkempt that they could hardly be considered imperial citizens. If it were a true great nation, even these alleys should be touched by sunlight…

“Well, have we arrived?”

“Yes. The light on the compass is growing stronger. It seems they haven’t moved to another area but are in the vicinity.”

Romandro wiped his sweat with a handkerchief and sighed. Despite being midday, the densely packed old buildings made it gloomy.

Was that all? Clotheslines and yellowed fabrics fluttered abundantly in the air, accompanied by the stench of foul waste, the loud voices of drunkards, and people suddenly fighting. Everything that could be perceived by the five senses made one feel threatened.

“That fellow Beric, what kind of help does he need from us while he’s even confronting the captain of the guards?”

“I don’t think it’s something that can be resolved with force. Above all, there’s a high possibility that it’s Hasha’s judgment.”

If it were Beric, he would have definitely taken Hasha and returned as soon as he found her. Even if there was a problem ahead, he would have cleared a path by swinging his sword. However, since that wasn’t the case, it was clear that Hasha had made a request.

“Stop for a moment and turn the carriage around.”

While Ian was talking with Romandro, the light on the compass turned in the opposite direction. It meant they had passed the target. The coachman awkwardly poked his head through the window.

“Uh, Viscount. The road is too narrow to turn around. We can stop here, but to come back, we’ll have to take a rather long detour.”

“Is that so? I understand. Let’s get off.”

“Ian, you mean get off?”

“Romandro, if you wish, you may remain in the carriage.”

As soon as the door opened with a click, the stench of waste poured in. At the same time, the gazes of those observing them from the surroundings did the same. Romandro quickly surveyed left and right, pondering. Should he stay with the coachman in this brutal neighborhood? Or should he accompany Ian, who was a mage?

“Ian, I’ll go with you! Let’s go!”

Swish.

Ian continued to walk, following the compass and turning his body in various directions. He needed to find the spot where the light shone the brightest and the direction didn’t flip.

‘I think it’s here.’

An old building that seemed nothing special. Judging by the numerous chests piled up in front of the building, Ian presumed it was the nest of a caravan. A yellowed, stained flag was stuck next to the door.

Romandro stroked his beard and sniffed.

“It’s in the Chelim language. Fa, Fa…”

“Fakens.”

“Ah. Right. Fakens. Huh? You can speak the Chelim language too?”

Romandro, who had been nodding, opened his eyes wide and turned around. However, Ian didn’t seem inclined to answer and turned to the door to examine the inside.

“Fakens… Hasha and Beric must be here. Call someone from inside.”

“Here? Why?”

Romandro had a genuinely confused expression. The slave caravan that dealt with the thief leader of Karenna and undead. Ian firmly remembered the name of that caravan. Following the compass led them here? It couldn’t be a coincidence.

Thump thump!

“Is anyone inside?”

“Eek!”

Ian grabbed the door handle without hesitation and knocked. After a while, a half-awake bald man appeared, frowning.

Creak.

Judging by his attire, he seemed to be a high-class young master who couldn’t be seen in Lugersfell, so why was he visiting this place in broad daylight? The man scanned Ian up and down and scoffed.

“Sorry, but it’s not a market day.”

It meant that the slave market wasn’t open. If they came knocking like this on a non-market day, it was obvious.

Either a lustful pervert with a sex addiction, an unlicensed doctor in need of experimental subjects, or a cold-blooded person who needed meat to throw to their pet magical beasts. Well, either way, they were certainly not normal.

“Please leave.”

Ian noticed that the interior space was larger and deeper than expected. Men sprawled here and there were getting up one by one, looking toward the entrance.

“…There’s something I want to buy.”

“I told you it’s not a market day? Don’t make me say it twice!”

He couldn’t inquire about Hasha and Beric’s whereabouts here. While there were cases of people legally becoming slaves, nearly half of them ended up that way through kidnapping or illegal means in foreign countries. If he searched for Hasha and Beric’s whereabouts here, it would only raise the suspicion of the slave traders.

Swish.

Ian took out a gold coin from his pocket and showed it in front of the man’s eyes. As the man’s eyes widened and he was about to say something, Ian pushed the gold coin against his chin and whispered quietly.

“I said there’s something I want to buy. Don’t make me say it twice.”

Then, slowly, with a smile, he placed the gold coin in the man’s mouth. The man bit down hard on it to confirm if it was a genuine gold coin, then twisted his body to grant them entry.

“…Please come in.”

“Ahem, ex-excuse us!”

Romandro coughed and stuck close behind Ian. The man led Ian and Romandro to the farthest room.

“One moment, please. I’ll inform the leader and be right back.”

Knock knock.

As the man disappeared, Romandro unconsciously exhaled deeply, and Ian checked the compass.

‘It’s definitely here.’

There were currently seven caravan members visible. With numerous spaces like an ant colony, it was impossible to estimate the exact number. When Ian looked at them, a few men grinned and flashed sinister smiles. Romandro felt his neck stiffen.

“Why, why are they smiling like that…?”

“I think they’ve taken a liking to you, Romandro.”

“Gasp! Me?”

Creak.

“Oh my, what could this be? A guest coming on a non-market day, oh dear, if we’re caught by the guards, it’ll be really scary. The fines are enormous! Hahaha!”

The man was quite young to be called the leader of the caravan. His jovial and sly-looking eyes were just like those of a merchant. The man extended his hand to Ian and greeted him.

“Welcome. I’m Fakens, the leader.”

“I don’t think I need to introduce myself.”

“Of course. I’m not curious either. Haha! Please have a seat, have a seat!”

Although he was packaging himself with a light laugh, a person running a slave caravan couldn’t be sloppy.

Ian sat down and looked around the office. There was not a single trace of someone residing and decorating the place. This was a temporary residence they used when they arrived in the capital, and it was a space they could immediately abandon and flee if any issues arose.

“So, what are you looking for? There must be a special reason you sought out our caravan, right? To be honest, it sounds too much like a sales pitch, so I didn’t want to say it, but we have everything except for what we don’t have. If we don’t have it, we’ll quickly inquire elsewhere and connect you.”

Grinning, Fakens clasped his hands and just smiled, urging him to speak. Ian glanced at the men firmly standing behind him, raising an eyebrow. As if asking, will they continue to stand there like that?

“I apologize. A petty thief broke into the building yesterday.”

“A petty thief?”

“There doesn’t seem to be any damage, but there are traces of someone intruding, so everyone is on edge. The one who opened the door isn’t someone who would easily let others pass, but gold coins certainly have a way of enchanting people. Don’t you agree?”

Ian was certain. That petty thief was Beric. He had come inside, met Hasha, and called Ian due to Hasha’s request.

Ian tapped the table with his fingertips.

“How many goods do you have?”

“Currently, we have a total of about thirty.”

“I’d like to take a look around.”

“I apologize, but we don’t readily show them to those who haven’t made a deal. If there’s something you want, please tell me. I’ll have them brought up here.”

Ian stared intently at Fakens.

“Do you also deal with beasts?”

“Beasts? Ah, yes. Well, it’s not that we don’t have them.”

“I’m looking for something to play with and something suitable for sword training. Recommend and bring them as you see fit, and I’ll choose.”

“Sword training! That’s a good one! When it comes to sword training, it’s best to have thick subcutaneous fat. Please wait a moment.”

Fakens and his subordinates left the office, closing the door behind them. However, the footsteps heard belonged to only one person. The remaining two guards seemed to be guarding the door. Romandro, who had also noticed this, whispered to Ian.

“Do you think Hasha and Beric are being held here?”

“Hasha might be. If they found out he’s a talking dog. But the petty thief…”

“It’s Beric, right?”

“Probably. Since he said he was with Hasha, he must be hiding somewhere in the building.”

“Then what should we do?”

Romandro shrugged and asked. Since they didn’t know what Hasha and Beric wanted to be done, they couldn’t recklessly take action. Should they bring the guards and turn this place upside down?

“I’ll let Beric know. That we’ve arrived.”

Zing. Zing.

Ian slowly released his mana. His eyes turned golden, and his hair fluttered in the low-swaying wind. Romandro gulped and glanced alternately at the door and Ian.

“To sense the mana? Will that insensitive Beric even notice?”

Kwang! Bang!

At that moment. The loud noise coming from outside. Ian stopped releasing his mana and turned around.

“I think he noticed.”

***

“What’s that sound?”

“I wonder.”

Fakens, who was about to go down to the underground dungeon with his subordinates, hesitated. The sound came from the direction they were heading, so he was rather cautious.

Patter patter!

“Fakens! Fakens!”

“The commotion is loud! Quiet down!”

“No, it’s just…”

The subordinate crawling up the stairs blurted out incomprehensible words. Thick smoke. Wondering if a fire had broken out, Fakens covered his mouth with his sleeve and went downstairs.

Creak.

The half-shattered door opened on its own. The torches in the corridor illuminated the inside of the underground dungeon, where a white dog and an unfamiliar man were sitting. With his red hair and the subordinate’s blood spattered on him.

“What the?”

“Hello! Hey! Our master is here!”

“You, you, how did you get here…?”

“Our master is here!?”

Beric stood up, infusing mana into his sword.

Hasha did the same. Running toward the opposite corridor, she shouted loudly.

-Astanians! It’s time! The person to save us has come! Everyone, rise up!