Chapter 109: How to Reach a Dream (4)
Chapter 109: How to Reach a Dream (4)
Ken Steiner had firmly rejected the tax reform proposal Maximilian put forward.
Legislation, after all, was the inherent prerogative of the Imperial Council.
While knights, as guardians of the Empire, could offer opinions on the drafting of laws, their influence was strictly limited.
“Chancellor, are you sure about this?”
Despite his firm stance, the officials of the Ministry of Finance—and even the nobles of the Imperial Palace—cast worried glances his way.
Their anxiety wasn't just because of Maximilian. It was because everyone knew the Emperor’s heart had already leaned toward war.
“I will speak to His Majesty myself.”
Ken Steiner trusted in his long-standing bond with the Emperor.
For a long time, even before the Emperor ascended to the throne, Ken had been the teacher who instructed him in various disciplines.
“Chancellor, Maximilian is no pushover. You saw what happened in Genen.”
The officials, those who claimed to follow Ken, remained wary of Maximilian.
They knew of his ruthless decisiveness—how he had led an armored unit to blockade the city and then summarily executed every single official in the Governor-General’s office.
“...That is precisely why I am doing this.”
Maximilian was no longer a figure who could be regarded as a mere 'speck' on the map.
He was a monster sired by Zebestian, yet he was a different breed of monster entirely.
That was also what Ken intended to suggest to the Emperor.
More than the withholding tax or any other reform, Maximilian was dangerous. No matter how much he thought about it, the man was cut from a different cloth than his father, Zebestian.
The aura emanating from him resembled an ambition that was deeper and far darker.
“For the sake of His Majesty, we must control Maximilian.”
With those thoughts, he walked down the corridors of the Imperial Palace.
Click. Clack.
The sound of his footsteps echoed clearly. They continued for a while, then abruptly cut off.
When he suddenly stopped and looked back, there was only darkness. The officials who had been following him had vanished without a trace.
—Looking back now.
Was 'control' ever even a possibility?
“...”
Ken returned to reality and looked at the man beyond the glass window.
Under the white light of streetlamps flickering like shards, the blonde knight was revealed through the haze.
Maximilian.
Step.
He took a step toward Ken.
Step.
The resonance of his stride spread like a chilling wind.
Swoosh...
The fallen leaves swaying in the street seemed to brush against the heart of his worn, aged body.
“Sigh.”
Ken exhaled briefly, closed his eyes, and opened them again.
Step.
Maximilian’s shadow stretched long.
Having approached before Ken knew it, he tapped on the rear window.
Knock, knock.
Ken rolled down the window. Staring straight into Maximilian’s eyes, he spoke.
“...Sir Maximilian. This is the capital. The Imperial Palace is not far from here. Such rudeness will not be tolerated.”
“I know.”
Maximilian answered nonchalantly. Without a hint of agitation, his expression remained calmly composed.
“I know very well.”
An agent appeared from nowhere and dragged the driver out. The driver disappeared in an instant, like a piece of luggage.
“...Hmph.”
Maximilian climbed into the empty driver’s seat.
Ken leaned back into his seat, and Maximilian murmured as he watched him through the rearview mirror.
“It is good to see you, Chancellor.”
Such a mundane greeting struck Ken as absurd. It was a deception so out of place with the current situation.
“What brings you here?”
“Do you not know?”
He answered the question with a question.
Ken stared at Maximilian reflected in the glass. Neatly groomed blonde hair. Sharply settled gold eyes. He looked like the ideal of an Imperial Aran, but now...
He reminded Ken of a wolf ready to tear a man’s throat out.
“Sigh...”
Maximilian let out a long sigh. That simple action alone seemed to tighten around Ken’s neck. He felt a tension so great his heart felt like it might burst.
At such an advanced age, this was a confrontation that was very bad for his health.
“Chancellor.”
The corners of Maximilian’s eyes crinkled softly.
He murmured lowly as he looked out the window.
“It is quite dark outside.”
“...”
“Can you not see?”
“...What are you talking about?”
Maximilian gripped the steering wheel.
“Mana is a truly mysterious power. It moves cars, but it also illuminates the unseen.”
Mana flowed from his fingertips and seeped into the vehicle.
The 'Virus' manipulated the properties of mana and amplified its output.
Flash!
The headlights flared. A white light, dozens of times more intense than usual, tore through the darkness on both sides of the road.
Within that halo of light, black silhouettes were revealed for a fleeting moment.
In the gaps between trees. Atop the walls. Beneath the grass. On both sides of the asphalt road.
Though they vanished in an instant, their presence was undeniable.
“Did you know? They have been clinging to you since you left the Imperial Palace.”
Ken remained silent at those words. A brief stillness settled over them.
Maximilian waited quietly. An uncomfortable sensation, as if grains of sand were floating inside the car, arose.
“...”
Suddenly, Ken’s gaze sharpened. The mana of his younger days condensed in his pupils.
Outside the window, only now could he sense the flickering movements in the darkness.
They were waiting for an opportunity.
However, they dared not close in.
Not because of him—but because of the man sitting in front of him.
“...Chancellor. I used to respect you.”
Maximilian spoke suddenly.
“I read your writings and sought your teachings. Until quite recently, in fact.”
Even though Ken had been reduced to a Chancellor in name only at some point, Maximilian was saying he still respected him.
“However, His Majesty now desires war.”
His voice became dry and brittle.
“Whether you want it or not, that is the only way to reach His Majesty’s dream. Did you not know?”
“...I was not unaware.”
“Then why did you turn a blind eye?”
Ken wore a bitter smile.
The corner of Maximilian’s mouth twisted faintly.
“You are no longer a special person to His Majesty. He only desires subjects who follow his will blindly.”
Why was the heart of the man called Emperor so extreme?
Why had he changed so much?
Why on earth was he trying to start a war that could not be won?
What did he hope to achieve by killing countless people, over and over again?
“Do what you must with me.”
Those were words spoken with the resolve to face death.
“...Sigh.”
A sigh mixed with a faint smile escaped Maximilian’s lips.
“However, even so.”
He pulled something from his coat and passed it to the back. Ken wiped the cold sweat from his neck and took it reflexively.
It was a plane ticket.
The destination was across the sea to the west of the Empire. The Kanilan Independent State.
“I don’t think I could let an intellectual of the Empire like you...”
Suddenly, Maximilian glared at the darkness outside the window as if it were loathsome before continuing.
“...die at the hands of such lowlifes.”
Only then did Chancellor Ken Steiner finally understand.
“So.”
Maximilian had not come to kill him.
“Please, leave the Empire.”
He had come to save him.
*
The office in the Imperial Palace.
“Maximilian got there first?”
“Yes.”
The Head of Intelligence bowed his head to Grossman.
“We couldn't find an opening. Their manpower was greater, and they were highly organized.”
“...Hmm.”
It seemed their operations had overlapped.
He was quite flustered, but it wasn't entirely a bad thing.
“It seems Maximilian was determined this time.”
A hot-blooded man who burned like a furnace beneath a calm exterior.
“He’s like a cold fire, that one.”
Ken Steiner was not someone who could be disposed of cleanly. The mere fact of touching him could lead to attacks from within the Imperial Palace.
He was an old man everyone found prickly, but once he was dealt with, it was certain he would be packaged as an 'Elder of the Empire' and used as a political weapon.
But if Maximilian did it instead?
It was like getting the job done without lifting a finger.
He wasn't a man of the palace anyway, and the aftermath would be his alone to bear.
“There is a problem. It doesn't seem like he intends to dispose of Ken Steiner personally.”
“Of course not. That wouldn't be the aristocratic way, after all.”
Grossman chuckled softly. The Head of Intelligence asked again with a persistent look.
“Shall we continue the pursuit?”
“No. Leave it be. He’s politically dead anyway, so there’s no need to get our hands dirty.”
“...Understood.”
“You may go.”
At his gesture, the Head of Intelligence turned and left, hiding his disappointment.
Thump. Thump.
He fell into thought as he walked down the corridor.
As the Head of Intelligence, his private opinion of Maximilian was: he is considered similar to Zebestian.
All of his businesses faithfully pay taxes to the Empire, he fairly distributes profits to his workers, and he consistently buys Imperial bonds.
Every word and action proves him to be a loyal subject of the Empire.
However, Maximilian is clearly different from Zebestian.
An invisible intuition. Because he is such a perfect subject, he is all the more suspicious...
The Head of Intelligence had not yet let go of Maximilian.
*
A country where a clear sea breeze blew, yet it felt deeper in melancholy than anywhere else.
Ken Steiner arrived in the Kanilan Independent State. He was with his wife and grandson. Since his only son had passed away from illness years ago, these three were the only direct descendants of the Steiner Family.
“Let’s go.”
Steiner took the lead, and the grandson took his grandmother’s hand to lead her.
The scenery of Kanilan outside the airport was—akin to a fallen nation. Silence, rather than vitality, hung over the streets.
Shops and businesses were open, and workers moved about, but hope did not exist on their faces.
They were all people working to pay off debts.
Just as Ken had warned the Imperial nobles, the economy had collapsed.
Screeeech—
Suddenly, a black limousine pulled up in front of them. Ken flinched and stepped back, and his wife hid behind him in fear.
Had the Empire’s pursuers followed them all the way here?
“I’ll handle this!”
Just as the grandson was about to fervently rouse his mana.
The rear door of the limousine opened, and a man in a neat suit stepped out.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Ken. I am Dieter Schmidt.”
“...Dieter Schmidt?”
“Yes. I am the secretary to Sir Maximilian. I have been waiting for you, Dr. Ken.”
Doctor.
His title in the Empire was gone, but the academic degree he had earned had not vanished.
“Please, get in.”
Ken hesitated for a moment before getting into the car with his family.
Whirrrr—
The limousine glided smoothly down the road.
Before long, they reached the city center, not far from the airport. In its heart stood a building that looked like a museum.
“This is 「Kronen Schatzinsel」.”
“Is it a bank?”
“Yes. We would like to hire you here as a consultant, or if possible, as the Governor.”
“...?”
Ken blinked in confusion. His wife and grandson also looked surprised.
“I am a mere secretary, but I have always respected your economic foresight and financial expertise, Dr. Ken. I hope you will pursue your dreams once more here at this bank, away from the bureaucracy.”
“...Uh, what? Here?”
“Yes. Ah, but first, you must unpack. We have prepared a separate residence for you.”
The limousine soon passed the bank and arrived somewhere else.
A quiet, luxurious residential area not far from 「Kronen Schatzinsel」.
“This is the official residence. It is a space you will have whether you accept our proposal or not.”
A location chosen with his commute in mind. A comfortable mansion where security personnel patrolled 24 hours a day, ensuring his family could live in peace.
“Not only the security, but all lines are connected via mana, so...”
Ken and his family got out of the car while listening to Dieter’s explanation.
The grandson let out a hollow laugh, and his wife looked moved.
Ken stared at the place blankly before suddenly asking Dieter.
“...Secretary Dieter. Did Sir Maximilian build this bank?”
Dieter did not answer.
“And in Kanilan, of all places, he started a business that requires this much capital.”
Still, there was no answer.
Ken’s eyebrows twitched silently.
“...About two months ago, was it? I heard a certain rumor.”
Only then did Dieter open his mouth to ask back.
“What rumor are you referring to?”
“That someone bet on the collapse of Kanilan. The number of people was extremely small, but because of it, they accumulated wealth beyond imagination.”
Ken’s eyes grew sharp.
“And one of the people who gained the greatest profit was an Imperial.”
“...”
“Was that Imperial Maximilian?”
Dieter closed his mouth again. He simply bowed his head with an expressionless face.
“Well then. Please unpack and rest comfortably.”
He climbed back into the limousine and left without a word, but it was answer enough.
“Hah.”
Ken burst into a hollow laugh.
Maximilian. Was he not just an ignorant warrior trying to collect more taxes solely to wage war? Was he not a warmonger trying to squeeze the Empire with nonsensical economic logic?
If so, had he seen a path much further and deeper than even Ken himself?
Ken could not know yet.
Perhaps his future actions would prove it.
*
The garden of the mansion, a peaceful afternoon.
“Woof.”
Leo’s bark was now quite dignified. His chest had deepened, making the sound resonate loudly.
“You’ve grown so much already.”
I stroked his head with a strange smile.
He was still cute, but I felt a secret pang of regret that his former fluff-ball appearance was fading.
“Master. How is Leo?”
I asked Priya, who was cutting into a steak at the outdoor table. She poked a piece of meat with her fork, put it in her mouth, and answered bluntly.
“He’s certainly a faster learner than most humans. His sense for handling mana and his ability to apply it are already top-tier. If things go well, he might even reach a level comparable to an average knight. A dog like a knight. What kind of nonsense is—”
“Woof!”
Having understood the compliment, Leo puffed out his chest boastfully. Priya coldly extended her knife.
“But you must not be arrogant. A noble must always remain humble.”
“Woof.”
He immediately settled his tail obediently.
He really thinks of himself as a noble.
“Good.”
I nodded in satisfaction and straightened my clothes. Priya’s eyebrows twitched.
“Your attire is quite formal. Are you going to the palace?”
“Yes. I’m going to the Council of State. There’s an important agenda.”
When going to the Imperial Palace, a neat and tidy suit is better than excessive decoration. Dressing too flashily looks like a nouveau riche and might earn the Emperor’s displeasure.
“Hmm.”
Priya focused back on her meat as if she had no interest.
“Master, are you not interested in politics?”
“Not interested.”
She leaned back deeply into her chair and stretched her legs out. It was a perfectly relaxed posture.
And here she was, telling me to maintain the dignity of a noble.
“My dream was to be a wealthy unemployed person. I think I’ve mostly achieved it now. Yawn.”
Watching her yawn languidly, I fell into thought for a moment.
...To tell the truth now, there are no collateral branches in the Ebenholtz Family.
The reason is simple. Due to the 'unknown' genetic disease unique to the Ebenholtz line, they cannot have more than one child.
Because descendants are so precious, from the moment of conception, they are strictly managed, drinking elixirs passed down through the family.
Thus, in the 500-year history of the Ebenholtz, records of more than one heir being born in a single generation were extremely rare.
Even then, they were all 'twins,' and one side was always infertile.
I said to Priya.
“I leave Leo in your care.”
“There’s nothing to leave. It’s just a dog lesson I’m getting paid for. Dog lesson. The phrasing is funny. Hmph. Dog lesson... fucking...”
Ignoring Priya’s grumbling, I walked out to the parking lot.
I got into the waiting car. Johann was already sitting in the passenger seat, and when I reflexively looked at him, I flinched.
“...”
His hair was slicked back neatly.
With his forehead fully exposed and combined with his sharp eyes, his face overlapped with the image of the notorious Class 1 war criminal from before my regression.
“...Is something the matter?”
Johann, sensing my gaze, asked cautiously.
I replied, “That hairstyle doesn't suit you.”
“Ah. Yes. Is that so?”
Johann fiddled with his hair sheepishly. He only fiddled with it.
I furrowed my brows.
“Get out.”
“...Pardon?”
“Put your hair down.”
“Ah, yes.”
Johann put down the hair he had worked so hard to style with mousse.
It might seem like a mundane, unnecessary criticism, but it was actually important. This, too, was part of controlling a group of people with such strong character—the Class 1 war criminals.
I had to control them in the smallest details to be able to wield them according to my will at any time.
“Refrain from such impulsive behavior in the future.”
“Yes. I understand.”
Johann flattened his hair even more neatly. Since he had already applied plenty of mousse, it looked like a cow had licked it, but it was still much better than the slicked-back look.