Chapter 94
Chapter 94
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 94
>Chapter Title: The King's Silence (12)
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*
“Counterintelligence, the Counterintelligence Command…?! I saw you leaving Frichenkaya, how…?!”
The darkness was not silent. The tense breathing of the nobles filling the salon and the frantic pounding of their hearts muddled the senses.
It was to the point where friend and foe could be distinguished by heartbeat alone. This was why Ivan preferred night raids. His well-trained agents could identify enemies without the need for markers.
Deep in the night, with all light sources eliminated, the room was so dark that even outlines were faint. While not enough to disorient a superhuman's synesthesia, anyone without regular dark adaptation training would inevitably suffer a decline in combat effectiveness.
And every agent present here had their dark adaptation training 'assisted' by Ivan himself.
“I will now see the results of your training.”
At Ivan's words, the agents flinched.
“There will be no restrictions on your targets. In the name of the sacred Krasilov royal family, I will now execute judgment for the crimes of insurrection and treason committed here. From this moment on, your guns and blades have no eyes.”
- *Shing.*
Slowly, he raised the axe blade upward.
Ivan finished his words, his voice flat and emotionless in the darkness.
Guns and blades have no eyes. In other words, they were to disregard any differences in status.
The moment Ivan finished speaking, the agents drew their weapons. The panicked nobles hesitated, shuffling back toward the center of the banquet hall.
“Stop! This can't be happening! I am the Minister of Military Affairs of this nation! To commit such a barbaric act without a trial!”
“A trial?”
“Yes! Was it not just a few days ago that even the royal family declared themselves equal under the constitution? If I am guilty of a crime, it must be judged in broad daylight, under the law! I demand a trial!”
“Granted.”
Ivan walked toward the shouting duke.
“Under the authority of the sacred Krasilov royal family, I, by the emergency judicial powers of the Counterintelligence Command, will now pass sentence on the guilty. Do you have a defense?”
“What is this…! Are you toying with…!”
“The defendant's statement is concluded. Witness, do you have anything to add?”
At Ivan's words, Dmitry, who was standing beside him, replied with a sly grin.
“I will bear witness! My verdict is death!”
“Stop! What nonsense are you spouting! What is this…!”
“With one command officer possessing judicial authority present as a witness, this trial will be officially reported to the royal family. My sentence is death for the accused.”
Ivan raised his axe toward the duke. Just as it was about to swing down, a sword suddenly shot out from the side.
The sound of the blade slicing through the air was enough to gauge its direction. Ivan quickly leaned his head back and retreated.
“Your turn has not yet come.”
“The third son of Viscount Yeremov.”
Count Yelchinopov bit his lip, not withdrawing his sword.
“That can't be right. Your voice… I remember it now. Ivan Petrovich… 'Executioner' Ivan. You were alive?”
“The Executioner…?! He was alive!”
The duke screamed in terror. Count Yelchinopov clicked his tongue and stepped back.
“We were certain we'd confirmed your corpse. You should be dead.”
“…”
“Silent, are you? Right, no need to speak with a dead man. Just like you.”
Yelchinopov smirked and held his sword at an angle.
“I suppose I can't survive a fight against you. Yes, seeing that axe, I understand now. Let's negotiate.”
“Negotiate?”
“Let me live. I don't want to die.”
“That's called begging.”
A crack appeared on the count's face at Ivan's words. He bit his lip and continued.
“If you kill all of us, what do you think will become of this country? Huh? There isn't a single noble here who isn't a landed aristocrat. If our executions become known, do you think the other nobles will stand by? Do you think the kings who have ruled this country until now were fools for letting the nobility live?”
He was right. The nobles couldn't be executed without a second thought.
Not because of the law, but because their power stemmed from their domains. There was a reason the Crown Prince's faction of nobles wasn't executed when he plotted his rebellion.
Assassinating a single noble in the capital was easy. But their deaths could never be hidden.
Each noble residing in the capital was a high-ranking official in the administration. If such men were killed and the news leaked, the landed aristocracy would rise up immediately.
This nation could not endure another war. With the military itself divided among the factions of various nobles, this country, lacking a true 'central army', could not withstand a civil war.
Therefore, the nobles here had never even imagined the princess would dare to do such a thing.
However, this was a diversion from the very beginning.
“The Counterintelligence Command is outside Frichenkaya.”
“What…?”
“Surely you don't believe the agents present here are the entirety of our command.”
There was no need to explain this fact. It wasn't the kind of efficient work a trained agent would show.
But Ivan, for some reason, wanted the nobles here to die tasting a little more unpleasantness… a little more despair.
These traitors.
He didn't want to see them leave their last words with a smile, thinking to themselves, *You're all finished!* Their downfall deserved to be more wretched.
“Count Yelchinopov. You have two sons and a daughter, do you not?”
“Wh-why does that matter now…?”
“Aside from the one son in Frichenkaya, you have another son and a young daughter on your estate. Congratulations. Your daughter has inherited your city… Nizgorod.”
“What?”
“From now on, the Yelchinopov family of Nizgorod will be ruled by your daughter. Any unfortunate administrative vacuums will be filled by our command's specialists, free of charge. You should be grateful for the royal grace.”
Ivan turned his head to look at Duke Sheremov.
“Your children are all grown, but you have one infant son from an affair. The Sheremov ducal family of Yelavinsk will now be inherited by that son of yours. You may close your eyes without worry. Your other two sons will follow you soon enough.”
“You… you murderer! You trash, you hired killer, how dare you, how dare you!!”
“How dare I.”
In the darkness, Ivan's eyes blazed a piercing blue.
“How dare you traitors attempt to defy the authority of the royal family. How dare you who devoured the legacy of the late king, built with everything he had in the last war. How dare you vermin who coveted rights without responsibility in times of peace.”
“I was on that battlefield too! Do you think you fought the war alone? Huh? Everyone here is a war hero! We all poured our entire fortunes into the war and earned our rightful privileges!”
“The only duty you ever showed was when you were sipping wine over the corpses of soldiers!”
Ivan bared his teeth and growled.
He remembered. The behavior of the nobles in the rear.
Because of this year's poor harvest.
>Because the tenant farmers were lazy.
>Because bandits swarmed the roads, made dangerous by the long war.
He remembers the landed nobles in the rear, who made such excuses as they magnanimously tossed them rotten food. He remembers the soldiers who, because even that was days late, had to take up their swords and spears while starving.
He remembers the 'victory banquets'.
He remembers the extravagant feasts held to celebrate a single victory in a local battle, even as an entire front was being set ablaze by one of the Seven Dragon Generals.
He remembers the nobles' greasy lips. While even the Royal Guard had to subsist on thin porridge, the 'supply colonel' who strutted in had a mouth glistening with oil.
He remembers the greatest king in history.
He remembers the giant who, knowing all these facts, gathered even the last of his strength needed to punish the rear-guard nobles and personally led the charge to the front.
He remembers the giant who ate the same food as the lowest soldier, who even gave Ivan the refreshments prepared for him, calling them a small luxury.
So, how dare they.
How dare the nobles of a nation preserved by his sacrifice. How dare they gather with the intent of coveting his granddaughter.
A trained agent does not act based on emotional fluctuations.
Therefore, in this moment, Ivan acted not as a trained agent, but as a simple, surviving soldier of the Royal Guard.
“I will ask one last time. To whom do you pledge your loyalty?”
“To this country, to the royal family of this country…!”
- *Slice.*
Ivan's hand blurred. In an instant, the axe blade shot out, struck the duke's throat, and pulled back.
The blade, which had moved like flowing water, so fast that even the count standing right in front couldn't react, was not stained with a single drop of blood.
Ivan twirled the axe and sheathed it as he spoke.
“To die a loyal subject, even if it's a lie, is an end not shameful for your noble blood. You should be grateful for the royal grace.”
“Ivan Petrovich!!”
A sword fell toward his head. Ivan leaned back, dodging the blade's path as he retreated.
The fatigue from his duel with Adel had not yet subsided. His muscles screamed, his joints creaked, and his overloaded nervous system shrieked in protest.
But it didn't matter. A trained agent never stops a mission unless he is dead, and fortunately, he was still alive.
At least, he was scheduled to live longer than them.
- *Clang—!!*
He parried the sword, locking it with his axe.
Count Yelchinopov’s face contorted. How? Strength, mana, his entire condition—the man was so broken it wouldn't be strange if he collapsed on the spot. So how?
Was the gap between them truly this large? It couldn't be. He was a knight who had trained with the sword his entire life, a great noble with a body enhanced by elixirs and magical artifacts.
Nobles were not weak. Their bloodline, built over a long history, could never be frail.
Yet, he was being pushed back by this man who was on the verge of death. His sword was being forced back. He could barely keep up with each swing of the axe.
Why.
- *Clang—!!*
Sparks flew again. The brief flare from the clash of blades made his vision flicker. Facing Ivan, who was glaring at him from inches away, Count Yelchinopov realized.
It wasn't a difference in mana or strength. Only one thing was driving that man now.
A sense of duty.
Forcibly circulating a sliver of mana, continuously accelerating a nervous system overloaded to the point of snapping, dragging torn muscles and crushed joints.
Despite the certainty of pain so excruciating it felt like his entire body was shattering, and yet.
He swung the axe faster than him, struck down harder than him, and pressed his assault.
In skill, and in will. He had lost to this man.
- *Chaeeng—!!*
Finally, his sword was sent flying. Count Yelchinopov laughed in despair.
The axe blade gently bit into his neck, then pulled away.
Ivan pushed the collapsing count over with his shoulder and, still holding the axe, surveyed his surroundings.
“…”
The sobs of the resigned nobles and the tense gazes of the agents could be felt clearly even in the darkness.
Ivan cracked his neck and opened his mouth.
“Are you waiting for me to finish the job? Or was your dark adaptation training insufficient?”
Startled by his words, the agents gripped their weapons and rushed toward the nobles.
There was no unexpected resistance. He had already identified everyone who might have put up such a fight.
Ivan scanned the area, occasionally picking off those who tried to use unsettling relics, heirlooms, or magic.
Their training wasn't as bad as he thought.
That was the extent of his assessment.
“This brings back old memories, sir.”
“Dmitry.”
“Her Highness has ordered that you both be brought to her as soon as this is over.”
“To the Eastern Palace?”
“No, sir. To the royal castle. She said she will grant you an audience. Shall we go now?”
“We'll go.”
Ivan turned and walked away. Dmitry, falling in step beside him, draped a coat over his shoulders.
“It's getting chilly, Senior.”
“It's summer.”
“Then you should lighten up. Isn't it a good day?”
The sky outside the mansion was clear and bright, without a single cloud. A large moon shimmered overhead.
The faint smell of grilling meat drifted from across the street.
The sounds of clashing weapons and the screams of nobles gradually faded, and when silence finally fell upon the surroundings.
Ivan walked through the city's night streets, which seemed the same as always, and nodded.
The Crown Prince's faction in Frichenkaya could never rally again.
The nobles who had doubted the princess's authority were all gone, and their domains would now be utilized more 'efficiently' under royal management.
The peace this nation had so long desired had finally arrived. The threat of civil war was no more. It would have been better if they had found the missing Crown Prince, but even if he returned, he had already lost his base of support.
So, now. This city was finally at peace. Frichenkaya, the Krasilov royal family, had succeeded in completely resolving its internal problems.
“I see. It's a good day.”
Ivan finally nodded. Dmitry chuckled and whistled.
Soon, a carriage rushed down the end of the street and stopped before them.
*