Chapter 152
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 152
Heilas’s transmission wasn’t confined to the Imperial Guard network. He was broadcasting the same footage across every available line, each feed delayed by a fraction of a second.
More and more people began watching Heilas’s broadcast through random networks. Soon, whispers and murmurs spread even through Fransek's camp.
So the reason Heilas didn’t come here was to restore the network.
Heilas was no electronic warfare specialist. He must have revived the network through physical means. After all, he knew Akbaran’s systems inside and out.
“—The survival of the Imperial Guard depends on Crown Prince Fransek. Those who share my resolve, join the Crown Prince. I will not stop those who wish to remain loyal to His Majesty the Emperor. Selfless loyalty is a virtue of the Guard. In fact, that path may be more fitting for a true guardsman. You may look upon me as a traitor.”
It was the last thing heard before the Imperial Guard transmission cut out.
“—But if we fall today, there will be no humans left in the Imperial Army, let alone the Imperial Guard. Things that were once human will wear our skins and call themselves soldiers. We do not fight expecting a reward. But if the very self that feels honor and pride is extinguished, what is the point of…”
Heilas's voice cut off, replaced by the empty buzz of static.
“Now, it is up to the guardsmen to decide. Were the ones by my father’s side truly guardsmen…?” Fransek muttered as he pushed past the soldiers and stepped forward. I followed right behind him.
Chaos erupted at the Arch of Triumph. Even the stoic guardsmen devolved into a shouting match, brawling like street thugs from the Lower District as they pointed fingers and hurled accusations. The voices were sharpest between the high-ranking guardsmen with decision-making power and their centurions.
A clash of opinions was inevitable.
Fransek’s revolution was waged under the banners of ‘the duty to protect the Emperor’ and ‘the protection of the imperial citizens.’ Heilas, meanwhile, had called them to prevent the ‘dehumanization of the Imperial Guard.’
Anyone can see that Fransek’s promise to preserve the Guard was a hasty fabrication.
Even without scrutinizing the details, the pieces didn’t fit together.
If they had enough information and time to think, they would realize Heilas's incitement was strange. But because everything is opaque and chaotic, even these brilliant guardsmen can’t make a proper judgment.
This was why the Empire and the Imperial Family hid the truth among lies, secretly monopolizing information to build a flawless surveillance society. When people cannot trust one another and are starved of information, even the most brilliant individuals are unable to use their full potential.
Before everyone regains their reason…
This was a provocation that only worked when there was no time for deep reflection. They could not be given a single moment to cool their heads.
“…I will keep my promise to Imperial Guard Captain Heilas Custoria. And as proof of our alliance, Lucaus Custoria stands here with me!”
Fransek bellowed, keeping me by his side. His voice resonated far and wide, as if amplified by a megaphone.
Blind as I was, I couldn’t see the glint in his eyes or the light he projected. But he must have been capturing the guardsmen’s attention with an extraordinary, magnetic presence.
A born actor.
Fransek carried himself with such dignity that it was hard to believe he had been a man gripped by panic just moments ago.
A man who existed to captivate the masses.
He was a charismatic figure whose every word and gesture was calculated to perfection. Even his prosthetic body was heavily adorned with decorative features.
To Fransek, the Empire was a stage, and he was its protagonist.
Thud. Thud.
Two guardsmen walked toward Fransek and saluted. Their move was the catalyst that fractured the Imperial Guard.
The rain temporarily slackened.
The divided guardsmen even shook hands, as if to show this was merely a difference of opinion, not mutual hatred.
There were 102 guardsmen guarding the Arch of Triumph. Of those, 34 joined Fransek's side. I listened closely, identifying their units and ranks.
Though they’re fewer in number, in terms of raw power, it’s practically a fifty-fifty split. We even have four Legions on our side.
The guardsmen who sided with Fransek were the more seasoned veterans. Five of them were high-ranking officers from the 1st Centuria, each one worth three or four of the lower-ranking guardsmen.
Perhaps some of the high-ranking officers had a vague idea of what happened to those crippled from “overusing the Legion.” They were by no means fools.
The peaceful separation ended.
The two factions of the Guard stood at a distance, staring each other down.
“It would be proper to entrust command to Your Highness… but given the current circumstances, we will act on our own judgment. Please forgive our insolence.”
One of the high-ranking guardsmen approached Fransek and spoke. He glanced at me briefly, giving a short nod of acknowledgment.
The worst-case scenario: a civil war in Akbaran. If this doesn't end tonight, the entire Empire will be engulfed in conflict.
Faced with this, I finally realized the Emperor’s wariness had been justified.
The Imperial Guard was a group that would drive a dagger into the Emperor's back the moment they had a justification and an opportunity.
From a ruler's perspective, the Emperor had likely intended to gradually replace this unstable force. He would have wanted to fill the void with perfect soldiers who would never betray him, like the Shadows. It was a task that would have taken a long time.
…But then, an outstanding figure named Heilas emerged and took complete control of the Guard.
With a war against other nations on the horizon, the Emperor couldn't just leave Heilas be. If Heilas had put his mind to it, he could have led at least thirty percent of the Guard to form an independent warlord faction. And thirty percent was a conservative estimate; if he had invested more time into seizing control, he could have easily taken more than half.
Heilas’s problem was that he was simply too outstanding.
And because of my intervention, the situation was now spiraling toward the worst possible outcome: civil war.
For the Empire as a whole, this is the absolute worst-case scenario.
But I decided not to give a damn about that.
A vision and judgment that looks incredibly far ahead. The greater good.
I knew that was supposed to be the right path. But even if it crushed me, I had no intention of accepting it. I was no statesman; I was just a human crawling on the ground, living from one moment to the next.
I wanted Heilas to live, not die. I didn't want Giselle to grieve. I wanted the Custoria family, who had accepted me as one of their own, to survive.
That was why I had to fight.
Whir, whir.
The guardsmen who sided with Fransek drew their weapons. True to their nature, their armaments varied, each wielding the close-quarters weapons and firearms that best suited their personal preferences.
Swoooooosh!
The rain, which I thought had let up, began to pour down again. Akbaran, once lukewarm from geothermal power, was gradually cooling under the Season of Storms.
Rumble!
Lightning flashed.
Divisions like this were likely happening all over Akbaran. Surely, at least one or two members of every scattered unit had heard Heilas’s transmission. Of course, many would choose to stand by and remain neutral.
The guardsmen defending the Arch of Triumph finished their preparations and waited for us. There was a disciplined order to their ranks, as if they were preparing for a tournament rather than a battle to the death.
“Lucaus, protect His Highness. You are merely a cadet, so there is no need for you to get involved in the Guard’s internal conflict.”
The high-ranking guardsman left me with those words as he stepped forward. He said “protect,” but he really meant for me to wait in the rear.
From here on, it was a civil war between guardsmen. Though no one had agreed on it beforehand, Fransek’s army simply stood by and watched.
A civil war among the superhuman Imperial Guard would inevitably become a chaotic melee of close-quarters and ranged combat. This was the nature of a battle between individuals of extremely high personal capability. Fransek’s hastily assembled forces would be of no help even if they intervened.
Splash, splash.
The guardsmen, split into two camps, walked toward each other.
Ah, this sight was one of the reasons Heilas had surrendered to the Emperor. More than anyone, he must have hated the thought of the Imperial Guard splitting in two and slaughtering one another.
The hundred or so guardsmen gathered here were a microcosm of the chaos. The guardsmen scattered throughout Akbaran, and even those deployed to the far reaches of the Empire, would be experiencing the same turmoil.
Thump!
A dull gunshot rang out. A shock round, reminiscent of the Ruina, struck a guardsman in the front line. I estimated its destructive power from the sound waves.
Triggered by the gunshot, the guardsmen charged. Merciless firearms crafted by the Imperial Workshop spewed fire and energy. Close-quarters weapons tailored to each individual’s combat style sliced and crushed prosthetic bodies.
Clang! Thud!
There were no grand battle cries or furious screams typical of a battlefield. Only the sounds of gunfire, clashing weapons, and the occasional death rattle drifted through the rain. It was a battlefield so quiet it was hard to believe the Empire’s finest elites were fighting one another.
Yet, they were undeniably killing each other.
Those who died accepted their end calmly, while those who took their brothers' lives with their own hands could only press forward in agony.
I imagined it. Even killing a fellow cadet I had known for only a few years felt repulsive. The guilt they must be feeling was beyond measure.
My stomach churned, and I wanted to throw up. As my thoughts accelerated, spiraling deeper, the darkness within me only swelled.
The negative emotions grew until they reached a breaking point.
Crack.
The vessel inside me shattered. Blood trickled through the cracks. It was sticky and rotting black.
How could I be so sensitive to the stench of others, yet fail to realize that I myself was rotting from the inside out?
“Ugh.”
I covered my mouth, swallowing a dry heave. I was shaken to a degree that surprised even myself.
This sight is my karma and my sin.
If I hadn’t intervened, the guardsmen would never have been slaughtering each other like this.
Heilas hated the thought of this, so he found a way to end it with only a few sacrifices. And I ruined it.
This was a situation entirely of my own making. Because of me, they were killing each other.
The debt and guilt within me snowballed.
I was a short-sighted human, a bastard who only grieved for the deaths of those close to me.
But the Imperial Guard was the only organization where I had ever felt a sense of belonging. They were dying in vain because of me. I knew better than anyone how grueling the training had been for them to reach this point.
So this… is how a normal person feels.
My locked-away emotions were slowly waking up. The aversion to killing, which I had forgotten, reared its head.
I wasn’t strong. My hormones had simply been abnormal due to chemical therapy. It was only natural for a human to feel revulsion at the act of killing.
I hadn’t felt guilt before because I only considered members of the Imperial Guard to be human like me. I could remain desensitized to murder because I viewed everyone else as non-human.
Guilt—this was a terrible emotional punishment. It could neither be defeated nor erased.
Roar!
The Legions clashed. A sorrowful roar mixed with mechanical whirs echoed out. Weapons of the same make collided and shattered. Soon, they were aiming for each other’s heads with bare fists.
The Legions were breaking. The fragments of that thunderous roar struck my brain like needles.
If I covered my ears, I wouldn't have to perceive their despair and sorrow. But I had to watch. This was my responsibility.
“Blegh!”
I stumbled, vomiting through my fingers. Fransek was startled but pretended not to see.
I thought Fransek was weak for despairing over his family's betrayal.
But I was no different. I was a fool who lacked even the stomach to face my own sins.
You sure acted high and mighty all this time, Luka.
A hollow laugh almost escaped my lips. This was all I was.
I’m sorry…
I, too, was a terrible human being who deserved nothing but contempt.
Screeech!
A sharp, piercing sound echoed in the sky. With my hearing being the only sense that was so extremely heightened, I was the first to hear it and raised my head.
The eyes of others also turned toward the sky. The tearing sound was growing clearer. Yet, there was nothing visible to the eye.
Perhaps beyond the clouds and the typhoon…
Something was happening at an ultra-high altitude, unaffected by the storm.
Screeeeech—!!
A sound of tearing air, fierce enough to rip through the thunderstorm, resounded. Fearing I would lose my Auditory Vision, I temporarily covered my ears. Even so, the sound was not entirely muffled.
Screech!
The tearing sounds echoed in rapid succession. Something was falling from the skies above Akbaran.
Boom!
It felt as if meteors were crashing down around the Arch of Triumph. The impacts created a thunderous roar, causing the ground to vibrate.
The irregular impacts occurred more than twenty times.
Gritting my teeth, I uncovered my ears and expanded my Auditory Vision to its maximum. Something was moving from the impact sites.
To withstand an impact of this magnitude, they had to be Legion-class full-armor prosthetics. Moreover, they would require a specialized design for ultra-high-altitude assault.
Whirrrr…
A chilling mechanical sound echoed from all directions.
The full-armor prosthetics captured by my Auditory Vision resembled the Legion, but they were subtly different. Above all, the Imperial Guard had no such thing as an ultra-high-altitude assault unit. In fact, no unit in the Imperial Army was capable of executing such an operation.
A special elite unit that did not exist on any official roster. By process of elimination, they could only be the Emperor's Shadows.
Sizzle.
The descended full-armor prosthetics were glowing hot from atmospheric friction. The rainwater evaporated the moment it touched their outer armor.
Ignoring the ongoing battle between the guardsmen, the full-armor prosthetics approached, surrounding Fransek’s forces.
“P-Protect His Highness first!”
The officers, belatedly realizing the appearance of the hostile force, shouted orders to their soldiers. However, the soldiers were already crushed by the overwhelming majesty of the full-armor prosthetics before the fight even began.
“Whew…”
I exhaled and prepared for battle. They were clearly targeting Fransek. Even if I strained myself to the absolute limit, the chances of successfully protecting him were slim. But somehow, I had to…
Beep.
In the midst of it all, my terminal rang. With the network and communications in shambles, I couldn’t tell who had sent it.
Lacking sight, I couldn’t read the text, so I played it as audio. The message flowed from the communicator mounted on the collar of my protective gear.
“—Your insane strategy worked, Luka.”
It was a neutral, synthesized voice. Yet, the content alone brought a single man to mind.
Kinuan…
Kinuan had quietly slid the final piece into place.