Chapter 156: Gift (2)
Chapter 156: Gift (2)
I have faith in Zebestian’s strength.
In truth, anyone in the Empire would.
He is the Head of House Ebenholtz and, simultaneously, the Sword of the Emperor.
If Dieter Schmidt single-handedly propped up the Empire's collapsing finances, it was Zebestian who single-handedly prevented the collapse of the Empire's front lines.
However, Zebestian’s limits were clear.
Because he was the strongest, he never looked around him. He underestimated threats from outside the Empire and existed as a sword for the sake of only one person.
In other words, at some point, Zebestian abandoned politics. He closed his eyes to the Empire's internal affairs and lowered the hands that should have been reaching out to distant lands.
He certainly shouldn't have done that—but perhaps he, like me, felt nauseated by the political game.
“I’m told he arrived at the artifact passage with his trusted adjutant,” Schatz reported.
I chuckled softly and nodded.
“I hope he enjoys the gift.”
Zebestian would easily triumph over the leader of Gentra and snap the necks of his subordinates without a second thought.
It was a shame I couldn't claim it for myself, but the Emperor would undoubtedly covet the Arcane discovered there.
“But a lot is happening within the Empire these days.”
I had received some rather intriguing news.
[Hearing for the Petition for Habeas Corpus]
Oswin Mason. A professor at the Zestpol Magic Tower and a high-ranking noble, he had formally filed a petition for habeas corpus with the Imperial Central Court to save a student who had been unjustly dragged away by the Imperial Guard.
“……”
It was an incident that, before my regression, was known as the 'Zestpol Reaction.' It was a time when numerous professors, students, and youths of Zestpol were caught teaching the Citizenship Act or simply arrested without cause, subsequently subjected to mass torture, execution, and imprisonment.
The initial development was similar to what I remembered, but I didn't know the specifics.
Media control had been so tight that few memories of the details remained.
To be honest, I hadn't cared much back then, either.
Regardless.
Those Imperial Guard bastards would likely view Oswin’s actions as a direct attack on their organization.
As for how they would respond, I would only know once I saw it for myself.
*
That afternoon, I visited the courtroom of the Imperial Central Court. Dressed in civilian clothes and a hat, I sat in the very back row of the gallery.
“We will now commence the hearing for the petition for habeas corpus regarding the detainee, Oliver Muller.”
The judge entered, took his seat, and declared the session open with a sharp strike of his gavel.
Though it was a relief hearing for an ideological crime, the individual in question, Oliver, was not present. The Imperial Guard had likely blocked his attendance, citing 'security concerns.'
“Your Honor.”
Oswin stood, visibly suppressing his anger.
“My client was suddenly framed as an anti-state ideological criminal and illegally detained. However, no physical evidence of subversive ideology was found at the scene of the raid or at my client's residence.”
He pulled an official document from a thick file and submitted it as evidence.
“This is my client's certified family tree. It proves he is a pure Imperial citizen with roots in this Empire going back generations. He is an Aran without a single drop of Alien Bloodline.”
The family tree. With the Imperial Citizenship Act currently proposed, this was the most powerful and dangerously impactful piece of evidence one could possess.
“Therefore, this is a clear case of wrongful enforcement and an abuse of power by the Imperial Guard, who condoned this arrest despite knowing these facts!”
The Imperial Guards sat opposite him. Despite Oswin’s passionate plea, they merely sneered with confidence.
The judge absentmindedly skimmed the family tree and turned to the Imperial Guard’s side.
“What is the respondent's position on the petitioner's claims?”
An Imperial Guard named Hans stood slowly, a scoff playing on his lips.
“I find this incomprehensible, Your Honor. There is a high probability that the family tree itself is a forgery. Furthermore, even if his blood is pure, if his mind is filled with subversive thoughts of overthrowing the Empire, he is an enemy far more dangerous than any Alien Bloodline.”
Oswin leaped to his feet at the blatant sophistry.
“That is utter nonsense! Are you claiming you can prove what is inside a man's mind?!”
Oswin Mason. He truly was a good man. As a noble of a prestigious house, he was dedicating himself to a cause he could have easily ignored.
“The Empire is the nation of the Aran! How can the state, which exists to defend and protect the Aran, trample an innocent youth and spill his blood!”
His voice thundered through the courtroom. However, it was an echo that would never reach the judge.
“Furthermore, beyond my client, there are dozens—hundreds—of innocent citizens who were taken by the Imperial Guard without due process that night!”
“Hundreds? You don't know what you're talking about!” one of the Imperial Guards barked, pointing a finger at him.
“Then disclose the records transparently!” Oswin shot back, glaring at the guard without flinching. “Reveal exactly who you took, how, from where, and on what charges! Show us the objective evidence that proves these allegations...!”
*
The first hearing ended without a result. The judge postponed the proceedings to a later date, and Oswin gathered in a meeting room with the other lawyers from Zestpol.
“...Currently, we have confirmed that over forty university students were arrested without cause,” Oswin said, roughly loosening his tie. “In the end, the family trees will be our primary weapon. What about their certificates?”
“We have secured thirty definitive ones. As for the remaining ten... should we attempt to forge them to look authentic?”
“Absolutely not.” Oswin shook his head firmly. In these times, forging a family tree was a felony punishable by death. Those caught with clumsy forgeries were executed without exception. “All documents we submit must be real. Not 'close' to real. They must be authentic.”
He was thinking of the powerful mastermind behind the Imperial Citizenship Act—a disaster in human form.
He couldn't risk catching Maximilian’s eye.
“How is the media responding?”
“It’s terrible.” A lawyer tossed today’s newspapers onto the table. Instead of exposing the Imperial Guard’s tyranny, the front pages were plastered with state-influenced propaganda.
[Treasonous Group Hiding in Zestpol Underground Wiped Out!]
[Night School Students Attempting to Shake Empire’s Foundations with Subversive Ideologies Arrested]
“...Goddammit.” Oswin buried his face in his hands. The law was bought, the media was controlled, and their opponent was the Imperial Guard.
“Still, they have no other evidence. As long as the family trees hold up, we have a chance.”
Even so, he couldn't bear to leave his innocent students rotting in the dark.
*
Slam!
Lieutenant Colonel Lorenz slammed his fist onto the interrogation room table, his expression darkening. Before him lay a document requesting additional physical evidence.
“Those bastards, daring to make such a mess of an Imperial order...” His eyes pierced his adjutants. “What about that family tree the old man shoved into the courtroom?”
“...It is presumed to be genuine, sir. We checked it thoroughly.”
“How can you be so sure, you idiot!” Lorenz screamed, hurling the file at the adjutant’s face. “If we back down now over a single scrap of paper, what do you think happens to our prestige?!”
The Special Guard. Organized specifically to execute this Imperial order, they had to produce visible results at any cost.
“Bribe someone. I don't care who. Find an expert who will testify that the family tree is a fake.” The corners of Lorenz’s mouth twitched. “A forgery appraisal expert. Just recruit some former public official and put him on the stand.”
“...Yes, sir. Understood.”
They would combine the 'impure thoughts' the Zestpol worms harbored toward the Citizenship Act with a frame-up for the felony of forging a family tree.
“We’re going to make an example of them. Remember, we have him behind us.”
Kents Bertem. The second son of the Bertem Family was backing this operation. There was absolutely no reason to be afraid.
*
A few days later, the second hearing was held.
The first witness called by the Imperial Guard—a forgery expert—cleared his throat nervously.
“...Yes. According to my analysis,” he began, pointing at the family tree Oswin had submitted. “I consider this to be a very cleverly manipulated forgery.”
“What! Which part exactly is manipulated?!” Oswin shouted, jumping up.
“Order! Maintain order in the courtroom! Silence!” an Imperial Guard bellowed, slamming his desk.
Oswin turned to the judge in protest. “Your Honor, appraisal is a subjective field. Opinions vary between experts. Therefore—”
“Objection overruled. This court determines the appraiser possesses sufficient qualifications,” the judge stated, avoiding Oswin’s gaze.
Oswin did not back down. “Then please allow the defense to call another witness to determine the document's authenticity!”
At the request, the judge glanced at the Imperial Guard. Their expressions remained relaxed. No matter who Oswin recruited, they were confident they could buy them off or intimidate them. If all else failed, they could invoke the authority of the Imperial Family to reject the witness entirely.
In this political climate, no one would risk their life to give honest testimony.
“What a pathetic old man...” Lorenz muttered, watching the trial with a smirk. This was easier than expected. Watching a high-ranking noble panic was top-tier entertainment.
“The petitioner’s request for a witness is granted. This concludes today’s hearing. We are adjourned.”
Bang. Bang.
*
Oswin and the Zestpol lawyers tried to recruit dozens of experts. Most rejected them outright. Those who initially agreed later withdrew in fear, or their witness applications were rejected before they could even step into the court.
Time was running out, and requests to postpone the trial were summarily denied. By the day of the third hearing, they still had no witness.
Crunch. Crunch.
Snowflakes as heavy as stones settled over the Imperial Central Court. Oswin stood in the parking lot, staring blankly at the massive building with a heavy heart.
Suddenly, a top-of-the-line luxury car glided to a stop beside him.
Whir—
The rear window rolled down, revealing the cold, impassive face of a woman.
“You look like you’re in a difficult position.”
It was his former student, Sonette Kandel.
“...Sonette?”
“Shall I give you a piece of advice, Professor?”
Oswin approached her and nodded. He was desperate for any lead, any help.
“From where I stand, Professor Oswin, you seem to be trapped by your own prejudices.”
“My prejudices?”
“Yes. You, the man who warned against prejudice more than anyone else.” She raised an eyebrow. “You are failing to see one particular person clearly. Is that not also a result of your ideology?”
Oswin stared into her eyes, clearly confused. A faint, peculiar curve formed on her lips.
“Professor, if you break free from your prejudices and look at this situation with cold, transparent eyes...” She gestured toward the court entrance. “You will see the person most suited for this situation.”
Leaving him with those cryptic words, the car pulled away into the swirling snow.
Oswin stood frozen, his gaze following the direction she had indicated.
“……?”
A man was entering the Central Court. He wore a coat and a hat, with an attendant carefully holding an umbrella over him. He seemed to be trying to blend in, yet his status and authority seeped out of him like the falling snow.
The one Sonette called the 'most accurate person.'
Oswin whispered to himself. “...A forgery appraisal expert.”
The very person who had identified even the most microscopic forgeries in family trees, sending dozens to the gallows.
‘If you break free from your prejudices... you will see the person most suited for this situation.’
The man her advice pointed to was right here.
*
The third hearing began. The central issue remained the authenticity of the family tree.
The Imperial Guard, determined to crush the defense, had recruited three more experts. They all pointed out 'suspicious' marks on the document and repeated the word 'forgery' like a mantra.
“...Defense Counsel?”
Once the Imperial Guard finished their examination, the judge looked down at Oswin. “You did not submit a witness request form prior to this date.”
Oswin sat with his mouth shut, staring into space. The Imperial Guards snickered, already tasting victory.
“Defense Counsel. Are you forfeiting your defense?” the judge pressed.
Oswin swallowed hard. Even at his age, his heart was racing. This was a gamble that bordered on suicide.
He shook his head. “...No. I did not submit a form, but...” He took a deep breath and stood slowly. “In accordance with the in-court witness system, I would like to call a new witness currently present in this courtroom to serve as an appraiser.”
“...From this room?” The judge’s brow furrowed.
“Yes.” Oswin nodded, his face set in stone. “The witness I wish to call is sitting right here in the gallery.”
Oswin scribbled a name onto a blank request form and handed it to the clerk. The judge’s expression wavered the moment he read the name.
The name carried a weight that commanded fear, even from a judge.
“...Is this name correct?”
“It is.”
“And this person is currently in this courtroom?” The judge’s voice trembled slightly. Every eye in the room turned toward Oswin.
“Yes. That is correct.”
Exhaling a breath that felt like it reached his very soul, Oswin turned toward the back row of the gallery.
“I would like to call...”
He met a pair of cold, sunken golden eyes beneath the brim of a hat.
“The Knight of the Sentinel sitting over there.”
The master of an authority that no one in the Empire dared to challenge—an authority that forced even the Imperial Guard to tuck their tails.
“I wish to call Sir Maximilian Ebenholtz as an appraiser.”