Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor

Chapter 71

Ian stretched his hand out the window, feeling the change in the air. The once humid breeze was becoming dry and chilly, a sign that the intense heat of summer was giving way to autumn.

Knock knock.

My lord, have you awoken?

Yes.

Your breakfast is ready.

Since the arrival of the lordship appointment from the Imperial Court, Ians status had solidified. Life hadnt changed much, but small details revealed his newfound power.

Like the title Lord now used to address him.

Interesting.

Once a duke and even an emperor, Ian now felt a sense of achievement from the title of baron.

Sitting opposite Romandro, Ian began his meal.

Good morning, Sir Romandro.

Ah, Lord Ian. Did you sleep well?

Thanks to you. Could I have some lukewarm water?

Certainly, my lord.

As the servants bustled around, Romandro started the conversation while nibbling on Grula seeds.

Theres something we need to sort out, Ian.

What would that be?

The support funds we brought from the Imperial Court.

Ah.

The amount was around 3,000 gold coins. However, with expenditures for territory restoration and Grula purchases, a significant portion had already been spent.

Isnt it customary to return any remaining funds?

Technically, yes. But its more of a convention.

Romandro implied that he had the discretion to manage these funds freely. Essentially, he suggested allocating the remaining funds to Ians use.

Ian raised his eyebrows in surprise.

I would be grateful for that.

No, its fitting. Youve made a significant contribution. If it werent for discovering the Grula, those 3,000 coins wouldve been a one-time expense. I trust youll use the remaining funds more meaningfully.

Thank you. Ill use them wisely.

And Im grateful for the chance to return to the capital this winter. Hmm.

You mentioned youre newly married, right?

Yes, I just received news that shes expecting.

Ian clapped his hands in surprise. The servants, overhearing, offered their congratulations.

Congratulations, Sir Romandro.

Youre going to be a father, thats wonderful.

When is the baby due?

Next summer, they say.

Oh, congratulations!

Romanndro awkwardly stroked his beard and smiled, his face brightening with genuine happiness. It seemed to be a true depiction of joy.

Are the support funds and the ledger in the office?

Yes, they are. Ill hand them over after breakfast.

Understood.

Ian nodded, calculating the finances in his mind. If his estimates were right, about 1,200 gold coins should remain. Most valuable items in the Bratz estate had been confiscated by the inspection team.

What about Kakantir and Nersarn?

They went to the border observation post yesterday and havent returned yet. They mentioned something about observing the stars, but Im not certain of the details.

Ian quickly grasped their intention. His tutor who studied the Great Desert also desired to visit there. It seemed they had their own method of understanding the desert through celestial observation.

Tell them I wish to see them when they return.

Will do, sir.

Lord Ian, theres a letter from Merellof. Should I ask them to wait until youve finished your meal?

News came in early. Ian paused, halving a boiled Grula. Romandro stopped mid-bite too.

No, let them in.

At Ians command, the door opened again. A neatly dressed servant bowed respectfully.

Good day. I bring congratulations on your appointment from Count and Countess Merellof.

Really? Was there anything else? Its a bit unusual, considering the order.

He referred to the protest letter about the assassination attempt that had been sent first, but now they were sending congratulations instead.

The servant, looking uncomfortable, searched for words. Ian gestured with his hand to bring the letter over. A luxurious letter was placed in his hand.

Thank you for the congratulations.

And the Countess sent a gift as well.

Ian looked skeptically at the box behind the servant. The Countess, an unusual woman, might have sent something unexpected as a gift.

As the servant opened the lid, Ian instinctively stood up.

This is a recording device from a foreign land.

A recording device?

The question came from Romandro. Ian slowly approached to examine the device closely.

Inside the small wooden box, there were intricately arranged gears. Below was a space to insert paper, and on the side, a handle to operate it.

What is this? How is it used?

The exact usage is not known, and the name is

Ian muttered to himself.

Dripper.

Ye-yes, thats correct. Its called a Dripper.

Oh, Lord Ian, do you know what this is?

Indeed, he did.

The Dripper was a kind of automatic recording device. When the handle was pulled at timed intervals, it automatically made a mark. While it seemed useless, it later became the foundation for automated processing machines.

It was part of a major national project Ian was involved in before his death, a future revolutionary technology that was expected to bring about significant societal changes.

Ah, Lord Ian, you are truly knowledgeable! Theres nothing you dont know!

Ian lightly brushed off the servants somewhat awkward flattery.

Countess Merellof sent this?

Ye-yes, thats correct.

What did she say when she sent it?

She said it would be helpful to you and, um, although its valuable, you shouldnt feel burdened by it.

The servant swallowed nervously while saying this.

In truth, when it was first taken out of the storage, it was so dusty that several people struggled to clean it. In the Merellof estate, it was nothing more than a piece of junk metal that no one cared about.

Is this a gift meant to mock me?

It seemed pointless, just a device that made marks at regular intervals.

But Ians reaction suggested something unusual.

Ha!

Ian let out a sarcastic laugh.

Or was it really a mocking gift?

Unable to guess what was going on, the servant bowed deeper, fearing Ians reaction.

Ian stared dryly at the device, then circled around it, releasing a subtle sigh.

Sit down, Lord Ian. Lets think this through.

Romandro, unable to bear it, got up and tried to comfort Ian, assuming it was an insulting gift.

To anyones eye, that would have been the right conclusion. In the current era, about 100 years before Ians time, the design of the Dripper was unimpressive, its functionality simple, and it was virtually unknown.

Even the current Emperor wouldnt recognize its value.

This Dripper, do you know its from the Raza Mountains?

What? What do you mean?

Never mind. Wait a moment. I need to write a response to the lady.

Muttering, Ian folded his napkin, signaling he was done with his meal. Romandro looked between the device and Ian, bewildered. They were about to start serious Grula cultivation in Merellof, and such provocations and responses were not part of the plan.

What are you going to write?

Ill say that I received the gift well and that it seems it will be useful as she mentioned. And that I would like to meet her someday.

Romandro rubbed his chin, seemingly in pain. To him, it looked like they were exchanging veiled attacks, but the reality was quite different.

What in the world is going on?

Ian touched the cracked wooden seams of the Dripper as if assessing its value and future potential.

I need to check.

Whether Countess Merellof genuinely sent a worthless gift or if she too understood the significance of the Dripper.

Ian signaled to Hannah.

Finish up the meal. Keep this well-preserved. No one else should touch it.

Ah, yes, master.

Sir Romandro, please continue your meal. I will write a response and then go for a short inspection.

Ah, uh, okay.

Ian left the dining room, and soon after, the servant from Merellof also departed Bratz. Ian went for his inspection a few hours later.

Your Excellency, the weather is very nice today.

Yes, its getting cooler day by day.

He was in the midst of inspecting the thriving Grula plants. Unlike the falling leaves, the estate was full of fresh greenery.

We plan to harvest Grula today.

Is it already time?

Megan from next door started sorting seeds yesterday. Grula grows very well here, its astonishing. It seems to grow a span overnight.

Thats good news.

With the storehouses of the residents becoming fuller, hunger within the estate was disappearing. Smoke rose from every chimney hourly, and children ran around with pockets full of steamed Grula.

My lord! My lord! The pig really is pregnant, isnt it?

Yes? Right, isnt it? I thought she was moody this morning.

Oink oink!

The livestock were also thriving, quickly gaining weight and bearing young. If things continued like this, no one would die or go cold in the winter, and everyone would welcome the New Year well-fed and warm.

Ah, Sir Kakantir.

In the distance, he saw the Cheonrye tribe returning from their outing. Kusilre slowed down to stand next to Ian.

Youre out again today.

Good timing. I have something to tell you.

I have something to share as well. Lets walk together.

Their followers gradually herded Kusilre along as they walked. Beric also followed suit, joking around with a fellow warrior while leading his horse.

I will return to Cheonrye tomorrow.

Tomorrow? Thats quite sudden.

Nersarn will stay here, so dont worry.

Has something happened in Cheonrye?

Thats not the case. According to the star readings, tomorrow seems like the right time to leave, so Ive decided to go then.

With Kakantirs departure, more than half of the warriors would leave. However, the estate had developed a degree of self-sufficiency, and aside from Grula cultivation, there wasnt much need for labor, so things should be fine.

Then I should prepare to see you off.

As the leader of their alliance, it was only proper to give him a respectful send-off. Besides, Ian intended to provide a gratuity to the Cheonrye as a token of appreciation.

What was it you wanted to talk about?

Oh. A servant from Merellofs estate came to the mansion earlier. I think its time to start preparing for some behind-the-scenes work.

Ah, right.

The behind-the-scenes work Ian referred to was maneuvering Merellof into a situation where they would have no choice but to buy Grula. At Kakantirs question, Ian stopped walking.

The only leverage Merellof has is the trade caravans that come during the cold weather, but if we handle them, the situation should become easier for us.

Hmm. Those are traders from the Hawan Kingdom, right? Ive never been to the mountainous area, so its geographically disadvantageous. Its not impossible, though.

The size of the caravan and the number of mercenaries they had for protection were unknown, but using force seemed inefficient.

No, we cant resort to combat. It must not be discovered that Cheonrye is involved. Otherwise, we might give Merellof an excuse to retaliate.

If Merellof, responsible for the caravans safety, felt threatened by the Cheonrye, they would naturally try to counterattack. This could become a burden for Ian, who had formed an alliance with the Cheonrye.

Do you have a plan in mind?

At Kakantirs question, Ian smiled and nodded confidently, his eyes sparkling with assurance as always.

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