Northern Normalization (1)
The Crown Prince's face floating above the blue magical device had frozen over coldly.
"If we purge high-ranking nobles indiscriminately, the entire order of the North will collapse. We cannot cross that line based on mere circumstances."
I answered at once.
"I know. That is precisely why we must purge them now."
"…."
"Right now, it will end with the heads of a few ringleaders. But if we delay any further, the entire North will bleed."
The Crown Prince could not reply immediately. Perlin, who had been listening in silence until then, spoke in a low voice.
"Your Highness. You must not be swayed by his words."
I turned my gaze toward her without a word. Perlin spoke clearly, suppressing her emotions.
"The Northern Duke has always been one of the most loyal to the imperial family. There must have been some misunderstanding."
So she finally decides to intervene. I slowly smiled at Perlin's reaction.
"You still say that after seeing this evidence?"
"It must be fabricated!"
"How strange."
"What do you mean?"
"I understand why His Highness hesitates. There is political burden involved."
"…."
"But why are you protecting the Northern Duke so desperately?"
Perlin's lips pressed tightly together. I added coldly,
"Is the Crown Prince not enough for you?"
The air in the communication room froze. Perlin's face turned deathly pale for an instant, then flushed red.
"That is an insult! I am doing this for His Highness—"
"Enough."
The Crown Prince cut her off. I looked back at him. Displeasure was etched across his face.
"Your Highness. This is a moment that requires a decision."
"Still, I cannot allow it. I cannot hand over the heads of high-ranking nobles based on circumstances alone."
Only after hearing him out did I speak, my voice perfectly calm.
"Then Your Highness must choose."
My voice sank into ice.
"I will kill the Northern Duke regardless."
The light on the magical device flickered low.
"Whether I have permission or not, the result will be the same."
"Arsens."
"It will not end with the Duke alone."
"……."
"Every lord who stood with him must be cut down as well. I cannot leave behind those who tried to tear the North apart. So Your Highness has only two choices."
I spoke one word at a time, clearly.
"Either place this process under the Empire's command,"
"……."
"or leave it as the personal deviation of Arsens Berhardt."
Perlin immediately shot back.
"The general is openly threatening His Highness right now!"
"Yes. It is a threat."
When I replied calmly, even Perlin seemed at a loss for words. I continued, my gaze fixed.
"If you choose the latter, I will have no choice but to place the Northern Army under my command to control the North. At that moment, Your Highness will have to brand me a traitor."
The Crown Prince's eyes turned as cold as ice.
"You are saying you will seize the North and rebel."
"It is the only way to restore the North to normal. The current Northern Duke has abandoned his duties."
Perlin gasped for breath and cut in.
"Your Highness, you absolutely cannot. The moment you grant him such authority—"
"Perlin. Do not interfere."
This time it was the Crown Prince. Perlin bit her lip.
Good. This is a pleasing sight.
The Crown Prince remained silent for a long time. He was clearly calculating. Granting me the authority to execute would mean placing a blade in my hand.
If he refused? I would still bathe the North in blood, and only afterward would he be forced to call me a traitor. He wanted neither. That was why he kept his mouth shut like this.
Now all that remained was the final nail.
"Your Highness. I will normalize the North in the Empire's name. This achievement will surely be worthy of adorning Your Highness's path to the throne."
"…."
Only after a long while did the Crown Prince speak.
"Marshal Arsens Berhardt."
"Yes."
"I grant you the right to execute on the spot the Northern Duke Edrian Winterfell and any lords who clearly conspired with him in rebellion."
"……."
"Report all evidence and reasons to the capital immediately after carrying out the executions."
I bowed my head briefly.
"I will obey."
A line of text appeared above the blue magical device. It bore the Crown Prince's official seal.
Perlin cried out one last time.
"Your Highness, you must not! If you give him this authority—"
I cut her off.
"It is too late."
She ground her teeth and glared at me. I smiled lightly.
The light of the magical device slowly faded. The Crown Prince stared at me in silence until the connection was severed.
A heavy stillness settled over the communication room. I turned my head.
"Record and seal every word of that command."
"Understood."
Now then. Time for normalization.
#
When I opened the door to the Supreme Commander's office, Reina had already spread fresh documents across the desk. She rose at once upon seeing me enter.
"Did you receive His Highness the Crown Prince's permission?"
"I did."
It was a short answer, but it was enough. Reina's gaze sank ever so slightly. It was not relief so much as the realization that things had truly begun.
I approached the desk.
"The situation?"
"The loyal officers have been quietly summoned. Those who openly took sides have been marked separately."
"And the ambiguous ones?"
"I will restrain them the moment they move."
Good. I looked down at the map and spoke.
"The troops will not move."
Both Raylin's and Reina's eyes turned to me at the same time.
"If we move the Northern Army now, the Duke's forces will move as well. That would turn this into civil war."
A brief silence. Reina spoke first.
"You intend to go yourself."
"Yes. I will go personally and take the heads of the lords who joined the rebellion."
Reina asked nothing further. Instead, she slid a bundle of documents across the desk toward me.
"I have already compiled the list of those to be dealt with, along with their locations and movements."
"Excellent."
Raylin added a small note from the side.
"I have marked those moving separately."
I selected a few pages, folded them, and tucked them away. This would be sufficient. I started toward the door, then stopped and looked back at Reina.
"While I take their heads, you will normalize the command center."
"Yes."
"Spare the loyalists and restrain the ambiguous ones. Eliminate only those who draw their blades first."
"Understood."
Next was Raylin.
"You will remain here and assist the Supreme Commander."
"Are you ordering me to send you alone, sir?"
"Yes."
"It is dangerous."
"It does not matter."
I turned away.
"After all, there is no one in the Empire capable of killing me."
#
My first destination was Count Brünel. He was one of the Northern Duke's closest aides.
The two knights at the main gate stiffened the moment they saw me. One of them spoke in a hurry.
"Entry is currently—"
I did not bother listening to the end. One swing of my sword sent a knight's head flying. The other, reaching for his blade, lost his hand at the wrist. Neither managed to scream.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The annex where Count Brünel resided was brightly lit.
He was still organizing reports. Half-dried ink and scattered documents covered his desk. When he looked up at the sound of the door, his brow furrowed at the sight of me.
He still does not know.
"What is the meaning of this, Marshal?"
Count Brünel did not even rise from his seat. Instead, he pressed his fingertips against the documents on the desk and continued coldly.
"This is territory under the direct jurisdiction of the ducal castle."
"……."
"Even a marshal has no right to barge in without permission."
I gave no reply. Brünel seemed to take my silence as his advantage. He slowly stood, lowering his voice.
"I heard there was a disturbance at the ducal castle. You have crossed the line."
"……."
"This matter must be reported directly to His Highness—"
"You blocked the report to the capital."
When I finally spoke, Brünel's eyes flickered for the briefest moment. But he quickly composed his expression.
"I do not know what you mean."
"You know perfectly well."
Brünel gave a short laugh.
"You seem agitated, Marshal. The North is still recovering from the war. Communications, reports, and supplies all require proper procedure."
"Procedure."
"Yes. Procedure."
"So you made them submit to the ducal castle's review first."
"It was a necessary measure to maintain order in the North."
"You isolated the Supreme Commander."
"That is a misunderstanding as well."
"You turned the command center into an empty shell."
"Marshal."
Brünel's voice grew colder.
"What you are saying now is baseless slander."
Good. This is how it should be.
I drew the sealed document bearing the Crown Prince's insignia from my coat and tossed it onto the desk. A brief blue light flared and vanished. Brünel's eyes followed the text. For the first time, the composure left his face.
"That is…"
"The right of summary execution granted by His Highness the Crown Prince."
Brünel's lips tightened. I took one more step forward.
Only then did Brünel truly understand the situation. His hand dropped to his waist. He must have wanted to grab a sword or magical device—anything. But it was too late.
My sword brushed past him once. Blood sprayed from his neck, and his body collapsed over the desk. Documents and ink bottles spilled with him. Black ink mixed with blood and spread across the floor.
The purge has begun.
#
Northern Ducal Castle.
Edrian Winterfell remained silent for a long time after reading the first report that had just arrived.
"Count Brünel is dead."
A short sentence. Northern annex. Suspected to be the sole action of Marshal Berhardt.
He placed the paper on the desk.
"The troops?"
The reporting knight answered immediately.
"They have not moved."
Edrian asked nothing more. He merely tapped the desk slowly with his fingers.
This was not good. The fact that the troops had not moved meant there would be no open war. No open war meant numbers alone could not stop it. Just then, hurried footsteps echoed outside the door.
A second messenger burst in, panting, and dropped to one knee.
"Your Grace! The Marquis of Malov, who was in charge of monitoring the command center…"
Edrian's gaze slowly lifted.
"Is he dead?"
The messenger's shoulders flinched.
"Yes. Confirmed in the western sector. It appears to be the sole action of Marshal Berhardt."
Two down. Edrian slowly exhaled. The fingers that had been pressing down on the command center had been severed.
The door opened again. The third report came even faster. Before the previous messenger could catch his breath, another knight rushed in, his face deathly pale.
"A massacre has occurred at Count Letian's annex!"
The air in the room grew heavy in an instant. Edrian said nothing. He merely watched the trembling fingertips of the knight who had brought the report.
Brünel. Malov. Letian.
Brünel had held the mouth leading to the capital. Malov had suppressed the command center. Letian had kept the nobles in line. All of them were dead.
"The troops?"
The third messenger swallowed.
"They still have not moved."
"The regular army?"
"Only the command center is being reorganized."
"The ducal guard?"
"No movement."
"The direct legions?"
"The same."
A brief silence. Only then did Edrian raise his head. Outside the window, everything remained quiet. The castle gates were closed. The torches burned brightly. There were still plenty of troops. Yet everything felt different from moments ago.
The fact that there were many soldiers no longer brought any comfort. What was beginning to blanket the North was not the tension of war, but something far more primal—fear.