Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 4
>Chapter Title: The Inevitable Academy Train Terror Attack (2)
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*
When cadets asked why the United Kingdom was “united,” Ivan would tell them to look at the railway map.
This vast railway network, once used to transport munitions during the war against the Demon King, now served as the arteries connecting not just cities, but entire nations.
Metal beasts that could traverse in a mere three or four days distances that once took over ten days of relentless travel by carriage. They were the true heroes of the last war.
“Who did you say is arriving first?”
“Einar of Droan, Senior. They say Princess Esidis is scheduled to depart first!”
“But it's still January?”
“Exactly. Who travels to a foreign land two months early just to wait for the start of school? And a royal, no less! What a nuisance.”
The junior said with a sly grin.
“It seems Princess Esidis had a rough time back home! The country bumpkins in Droan tend to look down on playing musical instruments.”
“…Musical instruments…?”
“Oh, did I not mention? Princess Esidis applied to the music conservatory. Orchestra department, violin major. Isn't that incredible? The daughter of ‘the’ Great King Einar, a violinist.”
Ivan paused for a moment at his words.
The Einar he remembered—that is, before he became a Great King, when he was a member of the Hero's Party—was a madman who wielded two axes, collecting orc heads in the morning and Taurus heads in the evening.
-Kwahahaha, listen here, 'Little' Ivan! This is how you swing an axe!!
*Don't daughters usually take after their fathers...?*
>No, that's not right.
Though it had been years, his faint memory of Esidis was that of a frail little girl who adored her father.
In truth, they had little in common. Fortunately for everyone.
*At any rate, the strongest music student in history is about to be born.* Ivan noted briefly.
Esidis may not have inherited her father's looks or personality, but her skill with an axe was a perfect copy.
“By the way, Senior, is that information solid? Are they really going to carry out a train attack?”
“Yes.”
“Who? Well... if you ask who, there are too many suspects... But still, she's Great King Einar's daughter. If they get caught, they'll face the blood eagle.”
The blood eagle was the favorite folk pastime of Droan's citizens. You could say it held a similar status to traditional holiday festivities. (At least, they were similar in that many people gathered to watch.)
The details were too gruesome to describe to the civilized citizens of the Krasilov Kingdom.
“If you take the most direct route from Droan to Saint Yansk University, it's here.”
Ivan ignored the junior's words and traced a solid line on the railway map.
Transport Route 12.
One of the trade routes connecting the Krasilov Kingdom to the Droan Kingdom.
“And I predict it will be here, Igorvichi Station. This area is the most likely spot.”
“How can you be so sure...? It's not like terrorists announce the time and place. Senior, do you have someone on the inside?”
“Because they'll strike at the border.”
He didn't know who would carry out the attack. He couldn't predict it.
He was retired from the front lines and had no ties to any intelligence agencies.
But he could make an educated guess.
Assuming the terrorist attack itself is a constant,
all that remained was to piece together the “why,” “who,” and “how.”
“The target of the attack will be Princess Esidis.”
“Well, uh... if an attack really does happen, then yes, probably?”
“And why is that?”
“…Sorry?”
*Of course, it's to create a point of conflict between Krasilov and Droan.*
>That much is obvious.
“In that case, the attack won't happen south of the Droan border. To shift the blame onto the Krasilov Kingdom, it must occur within our borders.”
“Uh... uh, yes. That makes sense.”
“But after Igorvichi Station, this line passes through three separate military districts.”
No matter how vulnerable a train is to terrorism, that doesn't apply within a military zone.
While the route wasn't completely surrounded by military zones, it did pass directly through at least three garrisons.
This was a remnant of the railway itself being designed for military logistics.
“And naturally, security will tighten as the train approaches the capital. That makes Igorvichi Station the most vulnerable point.”
“Oh... Right, that makes sense.”
“What is Princess Esidis's scheduled departure time?”
“The noon train, two days from now.”
“Then she'll arrive around 10 AM in four days. If I leave now, I'll be right on time.”
Ivan folded the map and nodded.
His junior, who had been staring blankly at his face, let out a chuckle and said,
>"Do you really know something? It's not like you received a divine oracle, and I never heard anything about you being a prophet back in your active days. I can dispatch agents to suppress the attack, but I need some evidence to convince my superiors."
"Then shall we make a bet?"
"...A bet?"
"No field support. Let's just see what happens."
Ivan smirked and looked back at his junior.
*There couldn't be any evidence. He didn't have an informant. But the attack would happen. Because it was 'common sense.'*
He had neither the time nor the inclination to persuade anyone on this matter. This kind of 'common sense' would come up several more times in the future; how could he convince them every single time?
So, Ivan decided to settle it with this first test. Besides, he was confident.
If no attack occurred, there was little risk, since he hadn't requested support in the first place.
If an attack did occur, his words would gain serious credibility from now on. He would have, in effect, rescued the High King's daughter.
Furthermore, High King Einar would never send his most cherished daughter alone. She would undoubtedly have an escort.
*'However, if the attack is a constant, it means the bastards are confident they can handle Esidis's entire escort.'*
He had nothing to lose and much to gain.
It was even a chance for Ivan to verify if his 'academy formula' was correct. If this test and a few others failed, well, it might just mean this wasn't an academy genre story after all.
“You seem really confident. Well, fine. I'll stay out of it for now.”
Ivan didn't bother to reply. It was only natural not to believe him.
Normally, any sane anti-government group wouldn't attack a civilian transport train.
A train attack consumes immense human resources. The moment the incident occurs, they lose everyone involved, along with the entire human intelligence network they might have spent years, even decades, building.
The losses from bombing a mere civilian train would far outweigh any gains.
This held true even if the goal was to assassinate Great King Einar's precious eldest daughter.
Unlike an assassination while she was residing within a country, an incident on a train leaves the question of responsibility somewhat ambiguous. In other words, while diplomatic relations might cool, it would be difficult for the situation to escalate beyond a dispute.
To carry out an attack for such a minor goal, needlessly heightening security, is a poor strategy. Therefore, the Krasilov royal family invests nothing more than minimal security.
That was the 'common sense' of the people of this world. A rational deduction and judgment.
But Ivan's 'common sense' was different. Because this was a formula.
In the four peaceful years since ominous events like terrorism and conflict had vanished along with the Demon King,
it was no surprise that Ivan was the only one who could predict something like a train attack.
Even with a foreign princess entering the country, the most they would do was prepare a ceremony at the capital's station.
“I'll have to do this three more times.”
Ivan sighed deeply as he descended to the train platform. Excluding the Saintess, there were four members of the Hero's Party starting from foreign countries.
If a terrorist attack were to happen on the 'academy admission train,' he would have to protect all five of their train routes.
*This damned other world.*
Ivan pressed his brow as he boarded the train.
*
As Ivan took the train toward the border, his junior headed dutifully to the royal court to report to his superior.
“Your Highness. I, Dmitry Cherkatov, have entered the palace.”
“In the court, you are the Lord Chamberlain.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
Ornate interior walls of gilded, carved wood.
An office absurdly large for a single person.
In the office belonging to Princess Elizaveta Kirillovna Krasilov, the Iron-Blooded Liza, stood a massive ebony desk with reliefs of marble and ivory.
Beyond the desk, which was cluttered with countless documents, a woman was nonchalantly twirling a pen.
“Report.”
“Lord Petrovich has departed.”
“Tell me something I don't know.”
“He suspects a train attack. He was quite specific about the time and place.”
Hearing this, Elizaveta stopped her quill.
“Does Vanka have an informant?”
“No, there has been no sign of such a thing for the past four years.”
An intelligence organization is, in the end, a network of human resources. And all human resources are components that require constant maintenance and proper lubrication.
This meant it was impossible to accurately identify an 'unidentified anti-government group' for a mission he had just been assigned, without any support or management.
So, even though his actions were based on mere speculation, she could sense a certain 'conviction' from him.
Just like four years ago, when he left for his final mission.
Claiming a terrorist attack was common sense, without a shred of evidence.
If anyone other than Ivan had made such a claim, Elizaveta would have dismissed them as a 'madman' without a second thought.
“We'll have to wait and see about this information, but at the very least, Lord Petrovich is still in his prime, Your Excellency. His edge hasn't dulled at all.”
The reliability of the information was a secondary concern. Since Ivan had left alone without requesting support, there was no loss even if the information was wrong.
Dmitry recalled something more important and shivered slightly. It was from when he had first gone to meet Ivan.
The ability to naturally conceal one's presence without conscious effort was, well, a basic skill for the Annihilation Squad.
But to accurately pinpoint the position and height of an unseen person behind a closed door,
and then to deliberately reveal his own presence, ducking out of the line of fire and preparing to counterattack—that was a level of training rarely seen even among active agents.
The moment he turned the doorknob, he had felt a heavy premonition and a dry killing intent.
In that instant, calling out to Ivan to announce his position had been pure instinct. If he had remained silent, an axe blade might have flown at him the very next moment.
“Heh, heheh.”
A small laugh came from across the table.
As far as Dmitry could remember, it was the first pleasant laugh he had heard from her in three years.
“Your Excellency…?”
“Assign someone to him. Record Vanka's every move, down to the most trivial action, and bring it to me. As an urgent report, so I can review it at any time.”
“Uhm... If you're that eager to see him, wouldn't it be better to go yourself…?”
“If I were going to do that, I wouldn't have spent four years just watching.”
Elizaveta smirked and began moving her quill again.
“It is right that we reunite at a better moment, at a more perfect time.”
“Ah, yes…”
“Enough nonsense. Go and protect the country. Are you idle?”
“…Yes, Your Excellency. I, Dmitry Cherkatov, will take my leave.”
Dmitry departed, backing away with a hesitant expression.
*I mean, is there anything noble or romantic about receiving a play-by-play report of someone's every move?*
Hoping his own lover never thought that way, Dmitry hurriedly exited the East Palace.
*
When the agents dispatched by Dmitry arrived at Igorvichi Station, they were met with three neatly wrapped body bags.
At the crime scene, where even the bloodstains had been meticulously cleaned, there was no sign of Ivan Petrovich.
At that moment, Ivan was running through the forest, axe in hand.
*