Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 153

“Wow, did a beggar possess his stomach?”

In one corner of the garden, a whole pig was being roasted to a golden brown. Romandro muttered in disbelief as he watched Beric.

It was clear what he meant by being possessed. The sight of him shoving fistfuls of meat into his mouth with both hands was undoubtedly that of a madman. Beric grinned happily and raised his glass.

“One more bottle!”

“You rascal, stop it already! Did a beggar really possess your stomach? Have you no conscience for taking a week to cover a few hours’ distance?”

“Don’t you know that when alcohol goes in, it goes in indefinitely?”

“You’re more likely to die from a ruptured stomach than from being stabbed. Oh my, I’m speechless. Really.”

Although Beric’s throat was stuffed with meat, Romandro’s throat was stuffed with disbelief. Regardless, Beric continued to tear into the meat, half out of his mind.

“Ian, if you want to employ that fellow, the food expenses will be too high. The cost-effectiveness is a complete mess.”

“Still, gulp, the money spent earlier is more than the cost of slaughtering a pig, right? What were you thinking, saying all the slaves belonged to Ian? Right? Wow, this meat is really delicious!”

At Beric’s words, Romandro’s face turned bright red. Yes, he admitted it. He had misspoken out of excessive panic and tension.

Putting the Astanians aside, additional expenses were inevitable to bring along slaves of unknown nationalities. Doctors were provided to those on the verge of death, clothing to those who were ragged, and food to those on the brink of starvation.

“Do you, do you understand the hardships of a civil servant!?”

“Huh? What’s there to understand? And what does that have to do with your slip of the tongue? Ian, am I right?”

As Romandro clutched his neck and closed his eyes, Ian patted his shoulder.

“After enduring some hardship outside, the kid has become smarter.”

His voice was filled with laughter. In other words, Ian also agreed with Beric’s words. Romandro apologized again, holding his forehead.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Thanks to you, they vacated the building, so it’ll be easier for the guards to handle the aftermath. And Beric, let me remind you, one of your meals is more expensive than what we spent on them.”

“Eh, that’s a lie!”

Even as he said that, Beric tore into a chunk of meat the size of his head and devoured it. The bowl was emptied in an instant. Mini, in a panic, flipped the firewood with a poker.

“Beric, please eat slowly! The Astanians have barely finished half a bowl!”

“My stomach isn’t even half full yet!”

The Astanians were chatting with Hasha and satisfying their hunger. Judging by the occasional laughter, they seemed to be talking about their homeland.

One of them made eye contact with Ian and bowed, smiling brightly.

“Seeing how the Lugersfell guards left, it won’t turn into a big problem. After the investigation, if there are any who became slaves illegally, restore their identities and wrap up the case.”

“What about Fakens?”

“After extracting information about the necromancer who assisted him, hand him over to the guards. He engaged in illegal slave activities, so punish him according to the relevant laws.”

Fakens was currently confined in the storage room of the residence. To be precise, he was unconscious and holding his place.

Hearing Ian’s instructions, Romandro moistened his lips with alcohol and nodded.

“I understand. I’ll handle this matter myself. Ian, don’t worry and focus on becoming the next minister of the Ministry of Magic.”

As Romandro put down his glass with a determined expression, Beric openly scoffed. His giggling laughter was purely innocent.

“Will he make another mistake and bring back something strange?”

“You shut up and eat, or this will be your last meal!”

“Ian is the one who feeds me, so I don’t know why you’re taking credit! If no one’s home, I’ll raid the kitchen!”

“Do you think our Minnie is that easy?”

Once again, a childish argument erupted between the two. At first, the Astanians were startled by the loud voices, but now they seemed accustomed to it.

Hasha, who had been sitting on a chair, leaped down and ran to Ian. A man staggered behind him.

-Ian!

“Hasha, is there not enough to eat?”

-No, we are all well-fed. That’s not it, do you remember that there are numerous shamans in Astana?

“Yes. You told me, didn’t you? That different factions have different shamanic practices. So, if you return, you might be able to obtain a new body with the help of another faction. I remember it clearly.”

Hasha tapped the knee of the man following him with his tail. The man then opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue.

A strange pattern was drawn in the center. Beric and Romandro both had puzzled expressions, but Ian understood its meaning.

-This person is a diviner, and he said he has something he wants to convey to Ian.

He was a kind of prophet. To predict fate was like being lost at sea and counting the waves. It could easily change with a small breeze or the fluttering of a fish.

Ian noticed the man’s flushed expression and granted permission.

“If it’s good, I’ll listen, and if not, I’ll reject it.”

-Of course it’s good! If the divination for the benefactor turns out bad, it would be proper to cut off my tongue and seal it forever!

With Ian’s permission, the man divined the future in an unknown Astanian language. His prophecy was conveyed through Hasha’s mouth in the Bariel language.

-Even if you stagger and lose direction, wandering here and there, in the end, there is only one path. Even if the path seems to have changed, everything is connected when viewed from the sky, so in the end, you will return to that place again. As you wish.

How is it? Good words, right? Hasha laughed, panting, but Ian couldn’t help but make a peculiar expression. For some reason, it felt as if that path represented “history.”

Many things had already changed, but as the long span of 100 years passed, it seemed that everything would regain its destined course and create the world Ian knew.

“What is this? It’s not a prophecy but a riddle.”

-Prophecies are originally open to interpretation.

Hasha retorted to Beric’s words. The prophet bowed and returned to his place, and Ian quietly moistened his lips with wine. Viviana offered him water instead and expressed concern.

“Sir Ian, didn’t you say you have to enter the palace early in the morning? Honey, you should stop drinking too. It’ll be hard to wake up.”

At Viviana’s concern, Romandro reluctantly put down his glass. She added with a bright smile.

“And Sir Ian. I heard you’re running for the next minister of the Ministry of Magic. Although your current attire is very stylish and cool, it doesn’t quite suit the minister of a department.”

“Madam, I was just about to ask you for that.”

Given the nature of the New Year’s party, the outfits he had tailored at the dressmaker’s had a youthful touch. They couldn’t be the same as the clothes worn when taking public office.

“So, I’ve prepared new ones. Please wear them when you enter the palace tomorrow.”

“As expected of the person Romandro trusts and relies on, I also feel reassured. Thank you, Madam.”

As Ian kissed the back of her hand in gratitude, Romandro blushed and laughed as if he had been praised. Regardless, Beric raised his empty plate and shouted again.

“One more plate!”

***

The next day, at the hour when the morning moon rose.

Ian went straight to the Ministry of Magic without even a few hours of sleep. As it was a state of emergency, there were clear signs of overtime at the Ministry of Magic building.

The administrative department where Romandro went was probably the same. As Ian entered the lobby, the mages walking sluggishly greeted him.

“Ian, has there been any separate contact from the palace?”

“No. If there was, an emergency summons would have been issued magically. Is there a problem?”

“We found out while investigating the forbidden magic documents. The ones from 300 years ago were separately entrusted to the administrative department. By her, Wesleigh. It seems to be because it was before the establishment of the Ministry of Magic, but we need a cooperation letter.”

“Do you need cooperation letters from all the department heads?”

“Yes. And it would be nice to have yours too. After all, you attended the palace meeting.”

“I understand. I’ll write it right away and submit it to you.”

Clank.

Ian said that and opened the door to the department. Inside, mages were sitting tightly in chairs. It was clearly the office of the Magic Operations Department, but he didn’t know why they were all here.

“What are you all doing here?”

“Oh? Oh oh! Ian, ahem. You’re here.”

The first to stand up was Akorella. She wiped the saliva from the corner of her mouth and checked the time. Three in the morning. An odd time to start work and an abnormal time to finish. She pressed her forehead, trying to shake off the fatigue.

“Let me introduce you. These are the heads of the Potion Research Department, the Incantation Research Department, and the Magic Tool Production Department. Yawn.”

At Akorella’s words, the others stood up from their seats. Their faces were already familiar from passing by. The people from the Magic Operations Department were all sleeping together in the duty room at the back of the department.

“I formally introduce myself. I’m Ian.”

“Ah, yes. We know. No need to be so formal.”

“We already know each other’s faces, don’t we?”

“They’re my close associates, so please get along with them.”

Close associates. It meant they were the ones Akorella had lured to support Ian. They could also be considered regular customers of the aphrodisiac sales. Ian shook hands with them and took off his coat.

“If you’re close with Akorella, you can be close with me too.”

“Hahaha. That’s right. First of all, the Potion Research Department is undoubtedly here for the commercialization of the truth serum, and the Magic Tool Production Department is interested in the large-scale supply of Luron stones. And the Incantation Research Department. Their budget is too small. The reason is that they research language, so there’s no separate money invested. They said they hope the next minister will take that into consideration, hmm. That’s what they said.”

The three departments’ desires from Ian were clear. Ian nodded as if telling them to trust him. Akorella wrote the name of each department on the chalkboard one by one.

Swish swish.

“And there’s Department Head Chang, right?”

“Yes. He’s the head of the Magic Research Department.”

“I didn’t expect it, but he’s quite popular. He united with the other departments that had registered as candidates. I don’t know how he persuaded them yet, but if we only count the departments with a clear stance now, our numbers are a bit lacking.”

Ian strongly agreed with Akorella’s words that she hadn’t expected it. Since he wasn’t a particularly impressive person, Ian nodded while holding his chin.

“What about the other departments whose stances aren’t determined?”

“There are quite a few. Those who don’t care who becomes the minister, those who are busy with the investigation, and those who say they’ll decide on principle after the mana verification!”

As Akorella shouted while tapping the chalkboard, Tommy, who was sleeping in the duty room, suddenly woke up and rubbed his eyes. But realizing it was nothing serious, he flopped back down.

Ian scanned the department names and fixed his gaze on the very end.

“What do you think will happen with that one?”

The Magic Support Department. Wesleigh’s direct subordinate department, currently shunned by both the Ministry of Magic and the palace.

Akorella scratched her philtrum and answered.

“I think they’ll abstain from voting. They’re not even showing their faces. At least they know how to read the room.”

Tap tap, Ian counted the number of mages belonging to the Magic Support Department and calculated. Apart from the other departments, didn’t they have the largest headcount?

“Does anyone know the contact information of the Magic Support Department head?”

As Ian elegantly asked after finishing his thought, the department heads unconsciously raised their hands. Then, Ian smiled with satisfaction and instructed.

“Let’s summon them. Here, now.”

“Summon? Ha, will they come even if we call?”

To the Incantation Research Department head’s question, Ian answered without hesitation.

“If they don’t come, it’s their loss. They should be able to calculate that much. Try summoning them. I expect them to arrive within thirty minutes.”