The Call (2)
I paused for a moment to consider Princess Laila’s question. What do you think of the Rangers’ activities?
If I thought about who stood behind the Imperial Rangers, the Special Request Division, and even the unique institution known as the Academy, and if I factored in the fact that the person asking was an imperial princess, it would be wise to avoid any negative remarks. But would the princess before me truly not have known that most people who heard that same question moments ago would reach this exact conclusion?
I decided to test the waters just a little.
“It’s a somewhat inefficient system.”
“……Oh? I’d like to hear your reasons for thinking so, Chrome.”
“It’s simple. You invest so much money, time, and manpower into nurturing these students, only to throw them away so carelessly.”
The princess fell silent. Even as I sensed the air growing heavier, I chose to keep pressing the accelerator. If I was going to do this halfway, I shouldn’t have started at all.
“The biggest problems are twofold. First, the Academy arbitrarily splits up and redistributes team members. Second, these hastily formed teams have no proper leader. Of course, I understand the reasoning. From a military perspective, it’s better to have members who can produce optimal results no matter how they’re combined, rather than people who only shine in specific pairings. As for the lack of leaders, it’s probably because they want the students to develop the ability to handle requests entirely on their own strength, rather than relying on a designated ‘person in charge.’ But Princess Laila, the death toll has already exceeded ten.”
It wasn’t just the two who had died during the first mission, back when the students still didn’t fully understand how dangerous this work truly was. Even after the existence of the Imperial Rangers was publicly announced, more students had rushed in with enthusiasm, only to suffer additional losses. Four had died cleanly during missions. Another four had seen those deaths and immediately withdrawn from the Academy.
Going from 183 to 173 might still seem like a considerable number… but this was probably only the beginning. The student count would continue to dwindle. Well, the ones who survived would become elites, so perhaps that was exactly what the Academy wanted. From the perspective of those actually dying, however, it was a different story.
“I already know that the Academy doesn’t value our students’ lives all that highly. Still, if I were in charge, I’d want to take the proposal that started this whole thing and smack the person who wrote it right in the head with their own document. ‘Hey, since you’re not the ones running around out there, are you really going to throw them in so thoughtlessly?’”
Princess Laila, who had been maintaining a serious expression, suddenly let the tension drain from her shoulders with a helpless laugh.
“I’ve thought this for a while, but you really have no fear, Chrome. It’s a good thing I took measures to prevent any sound from leaking outside the carriage. Otherwise, we would have been in serious trouble.”
“Hmm. Would it have been better if I’d sung praises to His Majesty the Emperor instead?”
“Honestly… that probably would have disappointed me too. It seems I’m more willful than I realized.”
Only now realizing it, the princess swept her hair behind her ear. I flinched for a second. As expected, her beauty was no joke. She truly lived up to her original title as the Successor of Red and Blue Blood, described in the source material as both “captivating” and possessing “charisma that draws people in.” Her beauty was almost terrifying.
The carriage wasn’t small, but being alone with her inside it with no one else watching somehow made me even more conscious of her presence. I forced my wandering gaze back under control and changed the subject.
“So, would you grant me the honor of knowing why you asked such a question, Princess Laila?”
“You’re being overly dramatic, Chrome.”
She gave a bitter smile and turned her gaze out the window. Even though the passing bushes and ground were visible through the open window, not a single sound from outside could be heard. This must have been one of the “measures” she had mentioned earlier.
“I simply wanted to hear someone else’s opinion. Inside the Academy, there are almost no people I can have private conversations with. And in official discussions, no one ever says anything critical about the Empire. Especially not in front of me, the princess of the Barhart family.”
“If that’s the case, feel free to leave it to me from now on. I’ll gladly say the things others can’t, whether because of face or position. My tongue has a hard time staying quiet when it sees injustice.”
“Could you refrain from saying things that destroy all credibility?”
“Wait, why?”
I made the most aggrieved expression I could muster. She burst into loud laughter. She still hadn’t completely revealed her true intentions, but for now, this was enough to satisfy me.
Schubertherz. The imperial capital, whose name meant “Heart of the Sword,” had originally been a place valued purely for its military utility, far removed from any notions of splendor or elegance. During the kingdom era, Barhart had been a strongly militaristic nation. What was demanded of the capital was not a vibrant culture, but functionality—how useful it was in conducting war. This had made the kingdom strong, but it had also made it bleak.
However, the kingdom that had once been merely a portion of the continent had been reborn as an empire through the Hegemony War, and the capital’s role began to change. Resources flowed in from the Morian Kingdom, the Spero Kingdom, and the Nahat Grand Duchy. As generous immigration policies drew people from all across the land, the accompanying cultures spread rapidly as well.
Unlike the kingdom days, when the capital itself had been invaded several times by the three neighboring nations, reaching Schubertherz from the Ivestan Empire now required breaking through the Grand Duchy in the east, the Eastern Army guarding the mountain range, and numerous other strongholds. This also meant there was no longer any need to surround the capital with defensive walls as in the past.
Abundant wealth, a growing population, and territory that could be easily expanded whenever desired. Prosperity was inevitable. The once-bleak forward base had transformed into a capital worthy of an empire that ruled most of the continent.
I clicked my tongue inwardly at the scenery visible through the carriage window. There weren’t any dozens-of-stories-tall apartments or buildings like in my previous life, but three-to-five-story structures were commonplace. Their designs were incredibly unique, as if the architectural styles of various countries had been mixed together. The roads were exceptionally wide and clean, clearly designed with carriage traffic in mind. There were even facilities resembling waterworks and streetlights, all of remarkably high quality. The faint traces of magic power I sensed throughout the city suggested that any technological shortcomings had simply been replaced with magic. To the people here, it was probably just the natural use of existing techniques.
It was as if the limited magical conveniences that only wealthy nobles or royalty used in their private mansions in the Spero Kingdom had been applied across the entire city. The clothes worn by the passing pedestrians exuded elegance. Their expressions were bright, overflowing with vitality.
“Is this your first time visiting the imperial capital?”
Princess Laila asked, perhaps finding my reactions to every little detail of the city amusing.
“Did I look too much like a country bumpkin?”
“I’ve never actually guided a real country person to the capital before, but even if I had, I doubt I would have gotten an answer like yours, Chrome.”
“And you don’t seem all that surprised either,” the princess added. No, I actually was quite impressed. Even for someone who knew the landscapes of the modern… no, my previous life, this place was astonishing. It did feel a bit chaotic because of the mixture of cultures from many different countries, but that would gradually harmonize over time.
“Well, if that’s how it looks to you, Princess Laila, it’s probably because of how I’ve been living at the Academy. That place doesn’t fall far behind in terms of splendor. Though it does feel a bit underpopulated for its size.”
That problem would likely improve soon enough. The students who had unfortunately failed last year, along with the new applicants who had heard about the Academy’s various affairs, would only increase in number, never decrease. I wondered what kind of insane test they would use to filter the new students this time. Especially that one red-haired beauty.
“…Professor Levenstein is going to be thrilled, Chrome.”
Having apparently thought the same thing, Princess Laila made a complicated expression. Well, the arrival of new students was good news for me as well. There might be talented individuals I hadn’t discovered yet. Even if not, the month and a half during which the entrance exams were held would be a complete vacation for me. It was essentially summer break, and there were a great many things I needed to accomplish during this opportunity.
Come to think of it, it would be incredibly helpful if I could bring Princess Laila along as well. I wonder if that would be possible?
“By the way, Princess, do you have any particular schedule during the winter break? Or rather, the end-of-year recess?”
“Let’s see… I should be able to make time for about two weeks.”
“Could I borrow that time from you?”
“It depends on what it’s for, but I’ll consider it positively.”
Good. I had received a tentative yes. Next up—
It was time to meet the Empire’s Chancellor.