Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor

Chapter 243 – Purge While on Bed

Vivianna, who had been nursing Romandro, heard the news about Ian and went to his office. The passing mages were murmuring with relief, saying that he had regained consciousness quite early for someone who had lost so much blood.

She turned the corner carrying a tray with warm tea. Philea was standing in front of the half-open door. Vivianna called out to her in surprise.

“My lady?”

“Oh, hello.”

“What are you doing here? Why don’t you go in?”

“I heard he woke up, but when I peeked in, it seemed he was talking with the mages. I’m waiting here in case I might disturb them.”

Philea smiled sheepishly, fidgeting with her fingertips. A bowl of barley porridge sat on the windowsill in the corridor. Judging by how cold it had become, it was unclear how long she had been there.

“When Ian was little, he always asked for barley porridge when he was sick. But now that the imperial palace is full of delicacies, I suppose he won’t eat this anymore.”

“The food we ate as children is what we remember during our toughest times, my lady. Don’t worry, let’s go in together.”

“Oh, shall we? Haha. It would be nice to go in together.”

Oh, you wildflower of a person. Vivianna smiled sympathetically at the woman’s joyful expression. How could someone with features so similar to Ian’s have such a delicate nature? Vivianna opened the door and guided her in, and Philea nodded shyly.

Creak.

“Lord Ian?”

Vivianna announced her presence as she entered but hesitated. The small bedroom door of the office was wide open, giving a clear view of Ian. He was buried in soft pillows and cushions, flipping through reports.

Rustle.

“My lady, how is Sir Romandro doing?”

“Kyaaaah! What on earth are you doing?!”

Vivianna couldn’t hide her shock. After losing so much blood, to be working as soon as he regained consciousness! Either Ian had gone mad, or she was seeing things.

Hale, who was infusing magic next to him, turned around startled.

“My lady. Are you alright?”

“H-how could I be alright? What is going on here? Lord Ian, what kind of scene is this? Do you not comprehend the word ‘absolute rest’? What cold-hearted person handed you reports as soon as you opened your eyes? Huh?”

Gulp. Hale instantly became that cold-hearted person and kept his mouth shut. As Vivianna expressed her shock, Ian waved the report as if to show her and tried to calm her down.

“I am lying down, aren’t I?”

“Just lying down isn’t everything!”

Why on earth did the Ministry of Magic even have a bed tray?

Whether he knew Vivianna’s inner thoughts or not, Ian tapped the wooden surface contentedly. Everything was soft and fixed at the perfect angle, so he only needed to move his wrist. As he lazily raised his head, Vivianna ended up clutching her forehead.

“How is Romandro?”

“…He’s still recovering, but he’s improved enough to wake up and eat in between.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“How can you say that?”

“I can at least receive help from the mages, but your husband has to overcome it entirely on his own.”

Rustle.

Ian turned another page of the report. Though fatigue was still evident, his gaze was steady. He wiggled his fingertips, urging Hale not to stop infusing magic.

“Oh, right. Lady Philea. Please come in. It’s alright.”

Vivianna turned around startled. She had been so shocked upon entering the office that she had a fit, and Philea, startled as well, hadn’t crossed the threshold. Ian turned his head slightly and called out to her.

“Mother?”

“Ian.”

She appeared hesitantly, still holding the tray. Seeing this, Ian sank deeper into the cushions and smiled gently. This was her son who had been on the brink of death, covered in blood. Such a smile was a small gesture to ease her worries.

“You must have been worried, right?”

“I-I brought barley porridge.”

“Thank you. I was just feeling hungry.”

Hale made a strange face. Hadn’t Ian rejected all the food sent up from the kitchen, saying he had no appetite due to extreme fatigue? Moreover, Ian was currently replenishing his body’s energy with magic alone, saying that if his stomach was full, he wouldn’t be able to fight off sleep even more.

“However, my stomach still feels unsettled, so please leave it there and I’ll eat it later.”

Right. Of course, he wouldn’t eat it. Hale nodded briefly and focused on transferring magic.

Zing. Zing.

“Yes. It, it’ll taste better if you warm it up.”

“Indeed. I’ll have the servants do so.”

Philea glanced at Ian with eyes full of emotion. Seeing him buried in cushions reminded her vividly of her son as a child.

Ah. He was truly adorable back then.

He’s still cute now, but back then, really…

“Mother. What’s the matter?”

“Oh, no. I have something else to give you.”

Philea snapped out of her reverie and waved her hand. Then, with urgent movements, she pulled out some notes from her pocket. They were crumpled and stained with food. At first, Ian didn’t know what they were, but soon he let out a short laugh of realization.

“A gift from His Highness Gale, I see.”

Contact from a turncoat using rumors of exile. He hadn’t expected him to cooperate and gather traces like this. He had been wondering how to handle it later, but this would make things much easier.

“But His Highness burned one of the papers. I tried to save at least half of it, but it had turned completely to ashes.”

“That’s alright. Thank you, Mother.”

Philea beamed at Ian’s thanks. A sense of satisfaction at being helpful radiated through her smile.

This was likely more a gesture of kindness towards Philea, who had consistently shared meals with him, rather than a favor to Ian.

‘Let’s see what we have here.’

Ian flipped through the papers one by one, checking their contents. Some had names written on them, while others didn’t. The handwriting was so distinct that it shouldn’t be difficult to compare.

“…Hale.”

“Yes, Lord Ian. I’m continuing to infuse magic.”

“Over there, from the left of the middle bookshelf to two shelves over, that’s the important report storage. Check the list and bring one report submitted by each person. And summon Dainels, Brennan, and Patrick. Oh, and call for the handwriting analyst from the imperial palace. Usually, two or three are on duty, so at least one should be available at the palace.”

Hale hesitated at the barrage of orders. But without asking any questions, he immediately got up and called for subordinates outside the office. While he was busy moving about, Ian continued flipping through the reports without pause.

“Lord Ian. Are you really going to continue working?”

“Y-yes. Ian, you lost too much blood…”

“I’ll just take care of the urgent matters first and then rest again. Everything has its time, you know.”

By dealing with Arsen, the insects that had been clinging to his surroundings were now jumping around aimlessly, unable to find their bearings. If not caught now, they would escape. Then, they would lay eggs and eat away in unseen places, only to crawl out into the sun again someday.

‘So this is what His Highness Jin meant.’

The strategy meeting wasn’t recorded, so it was passed on to Ian only through Captain Hale’s face-to-face report. How to record Gale’s death in history, and what to do with those who were sacrificed, and so on.

However, the issue of determining the eligibility of the accusation letter could be written in this report because it was separate from the Arsen matter.

‘Yes. It’s worthy of praise.’

Ian unconsciously smiled. He had utilized the gathering of all officials excellently. With even the order of raising hands recorded, this showed a somewhat aggressive intention in building power.

As Ian chuckled, Vivianna and Philea exchanged puzzled glances. How could he read reports as if they were some entertaining novel?

Knock knock.

At that moment, a mage outside relayed a message.

“Lord Ian. The Prime Minister has arrived.”

“The Prime Minister? Show him in.”

The two ladies urged Ian to rest and went outside, and soon after, the Prime Minister arrived at the office accompanied by his aides. His graying hair seemed somehow whiter. His wrinkles seemed deeper too…

‘Looks like he had a tough time at the grand council.’

“Good day, Prime Minister.”

The Prime Minister seemed momentarily flustered seeing Ian buried in cushions. But he gestured for Ian to keep lying down and pulled a chair close to the bed.

“Keep lying down. How are you feeling?”

“Thank you for asking. As you can see, I’m fine.”

“Yes, it seems so. That’s a relief.”

He said this upon seeing the report in Ian’s hand. Ian, as if this was a good opportunity, straightened his upper body more and adjusted his pen. He first wrote down the names of the mages.

“Currently, the Ministry of Magic is identifying traitors.”

“Traitors? What do you mean?”

“I can’t give you the details, but there’s a high possibility that a considerable number of them are connected to Hayman. Their collusion essentially contributed to causing the Arsen incident, so as the head of the Ministry of Magic, my position is that appropriate punishment should be meted out.”

Even if it wasn’t specifically the Ministry of Magic, no superior would stand idle if their subordinates were in cahoots with the opposing side. However, given the situation, the Prime Minister expressed concern.

“What kind of punishment? Isn’t the Ministry of Magic short on manpower right now? Every single person seems crucial. This isn’t just a problem for the Ministry of Magic, but for the entire empire.”

“If there are traitors among the deceased, we’ll record them as guilty of treason, tying it to His Highness Gale’s death. For those who aren’t, we’ll demote their positions and fix them there.”

Killing them would be too extreme given the value of talented individuals, and sending them to the frontier or abroad would be too dangerous. Who knows what mischief mages might get up to in unseen places, or with whom they might collude?

The reason imperial mages were gathered in the capital, besides their small numbers, was ultimately the imperial palace’s intention to control them effectively.

“Demotion, eh? Quintana will like that.”

Pay cuts, revocation of various benefits, and the contempt of returning colleagues. Since people cannot be reformed, it’s better to just throw them to the bottom of the barrel.

“And I heard in a report. Currently, Duke Hayman and his core members are in custody. Under charges of insulting the imperial family and causing a disturbance, it’s three days at most, isn’t it? Do you think the trial date will be set before then?”

“Hmm. The judiciary is trying to cooperate as much as possible. At that time, the judiciary’s collective absence during the Ministry of Magic’s filing of the accusation is being publicized. It’s almost certain that Hayman had a hand in it.”

In reality, the judiciary was in a state of utter shock and alarm. They were considered the epitome of integrity and impartiality, yet Hayman’s influence had somehow crept in, and it had been quite effective, creating an atmosphere of wariness.

Rustle.

Ian slowly muttered, reciting the words.

“More than anything else…”

“Hm?”

“We need to focus on reverting the assets of central nobles, including the Hayman family, to the national treasury. That will be the driving force that moves everyone. Please be thorough with Duchess Hayman and her children as well.”

Each department of the imperial palace was expecting support due to the securing of the national budget, and this was the main reason for their cooperation with the Ministry of Magic. The same goes for the nobles who opposed Hayman. Sereau, doesn’t he aim to wedge himself in as Hayman family’s assets are divided?

“If the charge of treason is established, it would naturally lead to the extermination of the entire family, so reverting assets to the national treasury would be natural. But it would be troublesome if variables arise before that. Wasn’t the Duchess from Ruswena?”

“Ah, yes. Lord Ian. I came here to tell you about that. An envoy from Ruswena has arrived, and it seems Hayman summoned them.”

“Is that so?”

“They were originally scheduled to leave the palace this morning, but ah, they all came down with severe stomach aches and are bedridden.”

The Prime Minister also knew this was intentional. However, the tea served at the imperial palace was at the center of the issue, and they weren’t asking for anything else, just pleading to stay a few more days to rest. Since it’s impossible to harshly drive out an envoy from another country, it’s truly a predicament.

Ian raised an eyebrow and muttered.

“…Hmm. They’re making trouble for themselves.”

Ian scribbled something with his pen. It was instructions for future actions.

“Prime Minister. Suppressing Hayman and the central nobility is the cornerstone of strengthening imperial power. This is the path to becoming a great nation.”

“I agree completely.”

When imperial power is strengthened, the authority of the Prime Minister also diminishes. Yet he agrees without a moment’s hesitation. It seems the Emperor has entrusted the position of Prime Minister to the right person, if nothing else.

“It’s time for a purge.”

Purge.

The Prime Minister nodded as he received the report from Ian.

“And when this is finished, let’s proceed with the official heir appointment ceremony for our Prince Jin.”