Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor
Chapter 76

“Ian-nim, Ian-nim!”

Hannah shouted as she crossed the garden. Ian, who had been cutting Grula sprouts, turned his head, and she, panting, presented him with a letter. The seal was not stamped, but the envelope was of high quality due to its durability.

“A letter has arrived from Merellof!”

“Oh, is that so.”

Ian took off his gloves and accepted the letter. It seemed unlikely to be from the count… In that case, the one capable of writing at the mansion was obvious.

“It seems to be from the butler.”

“What? Not from the count?”

“If there’s no seal, it’s unlikely. If it were from the count, he wouldn’t have passed it through you.”

Probably, the count would have come out to the front gate himself and ordered Ian to receive it directly. Regardless of the situation, the disparity between a count and a baron without an official title ceremony was clear.

Ian elegantly tore open the envelope and read the contents on the spot. Hannah, who was illiterate, rolled her eyes, trying to gauge Ian’s expression.

“Is it the content you were waiting for, Ian-nim?”

“…Not what I was waiting for, but it’s welcome news.”

Ian lightly folded the paper and patted Hannah’s shoulder. Then he instructed Beric, who was lazing under a tree shade.

“Beric, stop playing around and go downstairs.”

“Downstairs? Why there?”

“Bring Sir Romandro too. Contact the kitchen to mix a little flour and appropriate ingredients to make a lump.”

The butler was inquiring whether it was possible to trade Grula on behalf of the count.

—Greetings, Lord Ian. Please forgive me for addressing you simply and for writing in place of the count. Currently, Count Merellof is not in a position to respond.

The simple address was due to Ian not yet receiving a surname. The count’s inability to respond was an obvious lie. The initial message sent to Merellof was about an assassination plot, yet there was still no formal reply.

‘Probably, the butler wrote the congratulatory message regarding the title award too.’

—Regarding the conspirators you informed us about, Merellof is conducting thorough investigations. Please wait a little longer. The reason for writing this letter is to inquire if you could open up Grula trade.

It’s heard that you strictly prohibit trading Grula with outsiders. We respect that decision, but considering the upcoming winter, I took up the pen.

This is my personal proposal, unrelated to the count. However, if you permit, Lord Ian, I will ensure a satisfactory trade for both parties.

I hope for your generous understanding, and I conclude this letter.

Butler of Merellof Mansion, Samon.

Ian slowly waved the letter, pondering the butler’s name, Samon. Bariel is a land of diversity, but each territory has its distinct characteristics. It seems unlikely that Samon is a native of Merellof.

“What are you planning to use this for?”

“You’re quick to act, Beric.”

“Making a flour lump isn’t hard.”

In just a moment, Beric held a dough lump the size of a thumb. The color was odd, and it was unclear what he had mixed in it.

Not that he particularly wanted to know.

Bang bang!

“Ah! Ian!”

“Sir Romandro, be careful not to fall.”

“Oh, my. It hurts. A letter from Merellof, you say? A proposal for Grula trade? I came running as soon as I heard.”

“No, unfortunately, it’s not from the count but his butler. It seems the count isn’t hungry yet.”

Ian handed the letter to Romandro and smiled. Romandro quickly scanned the letter with his eyes moving fast. If there was still a slope to leverage, it meant that there was a place to procure food, excluding Bratz.

“…Is it Sherion?”

Ian’s eyes changed to golden, faintly emitting mana. In a windowless space, his hair fluttered, and Collin’s body stiffened, feeling the power of mana for the first time.

“What you just swallowed will dissolve into your body, becoming blood and flesh. As soon as I confirm that my plan has gone awry, I’ll release this energy without restraint. Then, your blood will turn to poison, and your body will melt away into the ground.”

“Ugh, ugh!”

Ian’s voice, whispering softly like a warning, was chilling. Collin started to retch, but Beric quickly gagged him and bound his body.

“However, if things go well, I promise you freedom. I will personally revoke the magic I’ve cast on you. Compared to your comrades who have already departed to the other world, you’re quite fortunate, aren’t you?”

It was a warning not to harbor any foolish thoughts. Collin nodded vigorously, his expression filled with fear, feeling as if what he swallowed was choking him right then.

Creak.

“Come on out.”

Ian opened the door and turned his body. Through the half-opened crack, stairs and the bright light pouring from above were visible. It was daylight, something he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“You can’t go home looking like that, can you? Beric, tidy him up.”

“I’m not just a swordsman, my shaving skills are also killer.”

“Just don’t cut off his head.”

“Yikes!”

“It’s a joke, just a joke.”

Collin clasped his neck at Ian’s jest. Beric, chuckling, dragged him out, and Collin was intoxicated by the outside air he hadn’t breathed in nearly a month. It felt like he was sensing life again after standing on the brink of death.

Romandro, who was observing, suggested to Ian.

“Should we assign someone to watch him, just in case?”

“Yes. Please provide a suitable person.”

“Hmm. Let’s see, I’ll find someone.”

It was obvious. The thing fed to Collin was just a crude lump of flour, so it was proper to place another real precaution.

“If you’ve decided to go to Sherion, it must be nearly the end.”

“The guy who calculates everything so precisely… Hm, no. If that meticulous count is willing to pay extra to go to Sherion, then yes, it must be quite desperate.”

“We should start gathering Grula.”

Crows flew across the sky. Against the high, blue sky, their blackness seemed especially stark. It appeared to be time to wrap up the last hope and prepare for winter.

“If we do strike a deal, would one sack of Grula for one gold coin be appropriate?” Romandro, leading the way, turned back to ask.

Ian was curious about the price they planned to sell the Grula for if the trade was successful. Though it felt extravagant to put a price on things that grow in the mountains and fields, they had already set a standard price of one gold coin for three sacks.

“One coin?”

Ian waved his hand dismissively, as if the idea was absurd.

“I’m thinking, at the very least, really the minimum, to receive ten gold coins for each sack.”

The opportunity was one-time only.

He had already reported to Prince Mariv that Grula was edible. In the central regions, rumors were spreading that Grula was a health food, and for all he knew, this might already be happening at the top levels.

After this winter, especially after the New Year’s celebration, the value of Grula would become known throughout Bariel.

‘By then, there will be too much supply to sell, so I need to make a big profit this time.’

Honestly, if possible, he wanted to completely empty the Merellof’s storehouses. The trade guild would come back to Merellof anytime, and spring would return as well. Just because Merellof’s mansion storehouse might be a bit empty this winter, would it stay that way forever?

“That seems like an excessive amount. Do you think it’s possible given the count’s nature?”

“If he’s on the brink of death, Count Merellof will realize it. No matter how abundant, one cannot eat gold coins.”

Ian smiled broadly and turned his gaze to a pile of boxes on one side of the garden. They were lumps of Grula collected as taxes.

Romandro felt an indescribable sense of intimidation from Ian’s bright smile, thinking that life would be tough if he ever crossed this man.

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