Chapter 3
Chapter 3
On the table of the Grand Duke’s office.
An external communication had arrived.
The emblem displayed on the signal was the seal of the Imperial Secretariat.
A direct transmission to the Grand Duke himself.
Such direct communications were normally considered highly disrespectful.
But the other party was the Emperor’s direct secretary.
No matter how noble one was, power dictated hierarchy.
Fwoosh.
As the communication connected, a figure appeared in front of me.
A brilliant golden ponytail.
A few loose strands of hair flowed down along her neck as if slightly disheveled.
Deep navy eyes like a starry sky, and pale skin like Fenrir’s snowfields.
The blouse buttons fastened neatly to the very top screamed for mercy under the pressure of her chest.
She was not the type to normally button it all the way up.
The reason she did so was obvious.
Because of me.
Rayan von Fenris—no matter what, a man who never wanted to look “pretty.”
“Please forgive the discourtesy, Your Grace. This is Vera Winterhold, Chief Secretary.”
She placed a hand on her chest and bowed slightly.
Not the most appropriate etiquette for addressing a Grand Duke, but…
Right now, power sat on her side.
“You speak of discourtesy before His Majesty’s representative? Unnecessary. What brings you here?”
I could already guess the reason.
And as if she could see through my thoughts, her eyebrow twitched slightly.
You launched a large-scale invasion on the Raviel system of the Mechanius star region recently.
“…Ah, that happened.”
And in that process, you suffered 7 billion military casualties.
“That is correct.”
This is not a trivial matter, Your Grace.
“If that is how it sounded, I apologize. I am also troubled by the current situation.”
As I continued speaking shamelessly, faint contempt slowly filled her gaze.
Honestly, in our line of work, that kind of reaction counts as a reward.
Buzz. Crackle—
Blue sparks began to flicker across the table of the Grand Duke’s office.
Vera Winterhold’s ability: Thunder God.
A woman capable of wielding immeasurable lightning—so powerful that even across light-years, it manifested here.
And she wasn’t even doing it consciously.
Just her emotions slipping while talking to me were enough to send electricity rippling across space.
But the sparks quickly subsided.
I will be direct. His Majesty has entrusted me with handling your case. And regarding your recent failure…
Her eyes narrowed, slicing through me like cold steel.
The defeat and massive loss of life. We are now seriously considering stripping you of your title.
“Wait, Chief Secretary. Although this war appears to be a failure on the surface, it is not without gains that His Majesty would welcome.”
What… did you say?
“Do you know the greatest treasure of the Mechanius star system?”
She frowned slightly, as if I had asked something obvious.
That expression alone was also somewhat of a reward.
Obviously… the Akashic Records. The classified document said to contain the secrets of all relics in existence.
“Correct. And through this war, I was able to glimpse a page of the Akashic Records.”
…!
Her eyes widened.
The Akashic Records were that important in this world.
Of course, part of the reason was narrative structure—so that the heroine could be special.
And that special existence was Reina Roengrantz, the living embodiment of the Akashic Records.
She alone knew all secrets of humanity’s lost golden-age relics scattered across the universe.
But that fact was top secret—even the Empire did not fully understand what the Akashic Records truly were.
So if I claimed I “saw a page,” it would sound ridiculous, but plausible enough to accept if results followed.
And I already had knowledge from the original story.
The ancient relic information she would later reveal in the plot?
Half of that was basically mine now.
That is impossible. You could not possibly…
“If I were truly the kind of man who recklessly launched a war just to abduct the Holy Maiden of Mechanius like some lust-driven beast…”
…
Her face practically spelled out “YES.”
But perhaps due to etiquette, she restrained herself and lowered her head.
No. I would never presume such a thing, Your Grace.
“Good. As a loyal servant of His Majesty, I intend to deliver this valuable knowledge to him personally.”
I will relay it myself. This communication is fully encrypted.
You think I would let you take it?
Nice try.
“That is not possible. I will deliver it to His Majesty personally.”
I am the Chief Secretary serving His Majesty.
“That is not a reason for you to possess this knowledge. Knowledge is power. The fewer who know, the greater His Majesty’s advantage.”
With respect, Your Grace… does that mean you intend to leave the star system?
“The system is in chaos due to the aftermath of war.”
“Thus, I have a request for you.”
Her expression tightened with irritation.
But she still maintained professional composure.
State it.
“Among the pages I saw, there was one piece of knowledge crucial to our star system. I will use it to stabilize this system. After that, I will leave temporarily. Until then, please suspend my judgment.”
She closed her eyes briefly, thinking.
Then she replied.
…Very well. You are granted one month.
“Thank you, Chief Secretary.”
…It was a productive conversation.
A lie.
Her expression clearly showed discomfort.
It seemed she hadn’t come only for official business—but also to settle old personal feelings.
So I added one final nail.
“For the Emperor.”
I performed a knight’s salute—right fist over left chest.
The official salute of the Empire.
…For His Majesty.
She returned a half-hearted salute and ended the transmission abruptly.
After confirming the connection was fully cut and the heat from the table had faded—
“Haaah!”
I collapsed into the chair and wiped the sweat from my forehead.
“…Good. I bought time.”
One month.
Within that time, I have to activate the Stellar Melter.
A heavy task—but at least one major obstacle was gone.
Then I thought—
I wonder how things went in the original story.
All that was written about Rayan von Fenrir’s death was that he was killed in a rebellion.
So either he somehow manipulated Vera and was killed afterward… or the rebellion happened before she could strip his title.
The latter seemed more likely.
Meaning—
“If I don’t want to die, I need to move this heavy ass faster!”
It was time to push himself harder.
“Haah…”
Flagship of the Chief Secretary Fleet, The Emperor’s Right Hand.
Inside it, Vera Winterhold exhaled as soon as the transmission cut off and unbuttoned the top of her blouse.
Fwoosh.
“Finally… I can breathe.”
Thankfully, she was alone.
So she returned to her natural, wild state.
Even so, she was still an elite—young enough to become Chief Secretary of the Imperial Court.
She picked up a tablet scattered nearby and began writing notes.
The file contained information about Rayan von Fenrir.
Her former fiancé—though she had never been interested in him.
No. That wasn’t entirely true.
Interest existed.
It was hatred. Worse than garbage on the roadside.
And even hatred counts as attention—because even garbage must be noticed before stepping over it.
There were many reasons.
Low intelligence. Laziness. Indulgence in vice.
A man who embodied every disqualifying trait for marriage.
To avoid marrying him, she had pushed herself to pass the Imperial Secretary exam.
Yet at the same time, Amirates—the star system he governed—was her homeland.
So when she heard he started a war, she panicked.
And when she heard 7 billion died for nothing, she felt the greatest rage of her life.
So she came personally, with Imperial permission, intending to deal with him.
But instead of punishing him, she granted him a delay.
In the end, she was still a servant of the Emperor.
When he spoke of tangible gains, she had no choice but to step back.
“…How did things end up like this?”
He still looked disgusting.
And yet—
“…So he can actually talk his way through things now? Interesting.”
Her expression, however, did not look pleased.
She had secretly hoped he would rot away in Fenrir and die in a rebellion.
But now, there was a risk he might interfere in the capital system again.
And as much as she hated to admit it, she had to revise her evaluation.
Previous assessment?
A reckless bastard who only knew how to fight.
A corrupt ruler destined to destroy Amirates.
And now even his “good at fighting” reputation was being downgraded.
But… the man she saw was not simply a disgusting pig.
Well—he was still a pig.
But not everything about him was wrong.
If his claimed knowledge of the Akashic Records was real…
Then it might be worth sacrificing 7 billion lives and a trade relationship.
“…Why am I even thinking this much about that man?”
She muttered in frustration, but continued working.
She deleted the blurry, unflattering photo of the Grand Duke from her tablet.
And erased several malicious notes about him as well.