Chapter 159: Blizzard
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 159: Blizzard
An unknown forest. A deep, secluded valley where ancient trees towered so densely they blotted out the sky, and the stench of rotting vegetation mingled with the eerie, echoing cries of wild beasts.
"...Wow."
Someone swallowed hard, letting out a hollow, breathless gasp.
"Zebestian really is a monster."
Code name: 'Aquamarine.' The man, possessed of a boyishly youthful face, shuddered as he recalled the man they had just faced.
"A total monster. A freak, a demon..."
Even The Major, the strongest among them, had been powerless. They had been pushed back helplessly and had barely escaped with their lives.
"...Major."
Aquamarine suddenly turned sorrowful eyes toward the corpse sprawled beside them.
"Topaz is dead."
Topaz, a core member of Gentra, had been killed instantly—his head blown apart by a mere pebble flicked by Zebestian.
"We can always replace personnel."
The Major rolled up his sleeve to check his arm. A mana tattoo stretched from his wrist to his heart, but due to their desperate flight, its red glow had faded significantly.
His Supernatural Ability was [Spirit Speech].
It was a form of reality manipulation that interfered with the phenomenal world through the power of the spoken word.
Right before Zebestian’s sword could slice them into ribbons, The Major had forcibly teleported himself and his subordinates away with a single command.
But such great power always demanded a price. The fuel required to activate Spirit Speech was biological kinetic energy—a dark magic that extracted the life force inherent in humans, animals, and monsters. It condensed that stolen life into a brightly burning red jewel—a 'Garnet'—which was then consumed.
Garnets worth the lives of hundreds of people had been burned through just to escape Zebestian.
And even then, they hadn't managed to leave a single scratch on him.
"Let's head back."
"Yeah. Ah... but that ruin is a real shame. We found it first."
"It can't be helped."
The Major gazed toward the horizon, toward a place that now felt impossibly far away.
Over there was Ebenholtz.
Even if he was a monster slowly growing old after stepping down from the battlefield, he still touched the sky.
A dawn where darkness still lingered.
I stood looking up at the night sky. While I was intently watching the clouds receding into the distance and the starlight scattering like mist...
── Step.
The sound of approaching footsteps dragged me back to reality.
I spoke quietly, without turning.
"It is a regrettable matter."
The footsteps came to a halt.
He called my name, his voice laced with resentment.
"Sir Maximilian Ebenholtz."
Oswin Mason.
He walked up to stand beside me.
"...Oliver is an Aran. You can tell just by looking at him."
I looked back at him. His face was that of a man who still hadn't given up.
"Appearance is merely a secondary concern. A person of uncertain birth cannot be trusted. Above all, the sin of Ms. 'Sarah Muller' in hiding the most crucial truth is grave."
Even if the family tree appeared legitimate, Sarah had hidden the truth to protect a son who was not her own.
"This incident will serve as an example. One must never dare to defy the strict will of the Empire."
Even if a family tree is authentic, the secret of one's birth can be tracked down with ease. Therefore, resistance or forgery is an exercise in futility.
"Even if he is an Aran, you mean?"
"Well. We will have to see if he is an Aran or not. You are welcome to observe the autopsy after his neck is snapped."
"Are you actually saying that—"
"However."
I handed him a document. It was a list of the others who had participated in the night school.
"I will let these people go."
Of course, there might be those on this list who are not pure Arans. But at the very least, they are not Izenheim, so they will be released without further torture or a death sentence. I promise that much.
"The condition is that they leave Zestpol."
"...What is the reason?"
Oswin's expression hardened in confusion.
I gave him the principled answer.
"Because there is no concrete physical evidence that they rebelled against the Imperial Citizenship Act or engaged in subversive conversations at the night school. Nor is there sufficient circumstance to label them ideological criminals plotting to overthrow the regime. Above all, they are pure Arans of the Empire whose family trees have been firmly verified."
I would strike off the head of a single beast named Izenheim and send dozens of innocent youths back alive.
"...Do you truly believe this is right?"
Despite my concession, Oswin glared at me with bloodshot eyes.
It was likely because he was inherently a good person. Because even in a world like this, he held onto impossible values like human dignity and legal ideals until the bitter end.
"Are you not afraid of the judgment of history?"
I looked at Oswin silently. A faint smile spread across my lips.
"No. I am not."
I tilted my head and stepped closer to him.
"Professor Oswin. Your morality is shallow."
People like him think they are the righteous ones, bearing the duty of the era, trying to save the innocent from unjust power. Seekers of truth whose names will be etched into history.
"You stand in court solely because Oliver is your student, while you turn a blind eye to the countless innocent people dying every day in this era."
Oswin's expression wavered.
"Therefore, you are infinitely lacking. You have merely chosen someone you feel pity for and used them as a means to flaunt your own morality."
They were wrong.
And because they were wrong, humanity had perished.
Their goodwill was nothing but a weakness that invited an even greater evil.
"Then are you a pure manifestation of evil, Maximilian?"
Oswin asked. His tone held a chaotic swirl of complex emotions.
"Think whatever you please. I have absolutely no interest in what this world thinks of me, or how I am written in history."
The world merely glances at me. It only looks at the surface.
No one can ever understand my true intentions.
"I bear a much heavier purpose than that. Because of that, I will simply cut down whatever stands in its way."
I placed a hand on Oswin's shoulder.
"We, as protectors of the Empire, as Arans, and above all... as humanity."
Glaring into Oswin's aged eyes, I murmured.
"We must give up what needs to be given up."
Smack.
He roughly slapped my hand away.
Then, as if he couldn't agree with my will at all—as if he couldn't even begin to comprehend it—he simply turned and walked away into the darkness.
It was a natural reaction.
"..."
I watched his retreating back, lost in thought.
Someday, I would have to cut down and kill such upright people with my own two hands. Under the grand ambition of humanity's survival, I would have to trample upon their convictions.
"Schatz."
I called out. She stepped out from within my shadow.
"Yes."
Wielding electromagnetism, she could now perfectly assimilate into the darkness. It was a concealment that perfectly absorbed the light touching her body without reflecting it, turning her into a void of pitch black.
The exact opposite of the always transparent Ebenholtz.
"Surveil Oswin and all the associates who were involved with him in this trial. Take Leo with you."
Leo's accuracy had improved considerably. He could now clearly distinguish even a 'Sub-species.'
"And."
Oswin Mason was, of course, not an Izenheim.
However, among the colleagues who followed him, his students, and the intellectual coalition that shared his ideals, there would naturally be Izenheim Sub-species mixed in—infiltrators exploiting human goodwill.
Therefore.
"Weed them all out."
We kill them first.
There is no breed as bothersome as an Izenheim that knows the law.
"Yes. I will carry it out."
The temporary headquarters of the Special Guard.
"Wow. Thanks to you, I even receive something like this. I appreciate it."
Lieutenant Colonel Lorenz tapped the document with his finger and let out a hollow laugh. It was a summons order directly from Maximilian.
"You go."
Lorenz fluttered the paper and tossed it to Captain Hans.
"Oliver, Olive, Oil, or whatever the hell his name is. He's the bastard you caught yourself, and this is the mess you made, so take responsibility for it. Report to that Knight prick with your own mouth. That's what I'm saying."
Hans. The guardsman who had led the sweep on Oliver's night school.
"Don't you dare mention my name when you go. I don't know anything about this."
"......"
"Answer me! You bastard."
"...Yes. Understood."
Hans bit his lip, but he couldn't disobey a superior's order.
"Get the hell out."
He turned around and dragged his heavy footsteps away.
Walking out into the empty hallway, he arrived at Maximilian's office with a heavy heart.
"Captain Hans Macken."
Maximilian called out his name.
"Yes."
Hans steeled himself for disciplinary action. No, perhaps it would be even worse than that. If he was merely stripped of his position, it would be fine. As long as he didn't lose his head—
"Raise your head. Anyone can make a mistake."
"...Pardon?"
He asked back before he could stop himself. Maximilian's first words were entirely unexpected, and he even continued in a rather gentle tone.
"However, when enforcing the laws of the Empire, it is crucial to handle everything 'accurately,' without a single margin of error."
He smoothly slid a piece of paper in front of the frozen Hans.
"In other words, you must always hold this level of evidence in your hands."
The document Hans carefully took contained the hospital medical records of Sarah Muller, Oliver Muller's mother.
'Miscarriage.'
That single word was puzzling enough, but...
"It turns out he was adopted."
Instantly, Hans's eyes widened as if they would pop out of his skull.
"T-then..."
"The family tree was authentic, but the birth registration itself was fake."
Maximilian smiled relaxedly and lifted his teacup.
"T-then..."
Looking back and forth between the document and Maximilian drinking his tea, Hans cautiously asked.
"Did you... did you personally find these records, Sir Knight?"
Clink. Maximilian set his teacup down.
"This Imperial Citizenship Act must be executed with absolute righteousness for the sake of the Empire's Arans."
Raising an eyebrow, he added in a low voice.
"Would it do for you, who have been entrusted with such an important role, to trip and fall over a single mistake?"
...Was this grace? Or was it mercy? Regardless, it meant Maximilian had personally conducted additional investigations for their sake and found this evidence.
Hans struggled to support his trembling legs.
Maximilian said.
"Oliver will be executed. The trial will be handled quietly."
"A-ah, t-then, what about us..."
Hans swallowed hard.
"Just do better next time. However, there are no second chances."
"T-thank you!"
Hans belatedly understood the weight of those words.
"Thank you!"
He repeated, bowing so deeply his head nearly touched his toes.
"Thank you!"
Maximilian quietly looked down at the man who was practically prostrating himself.
Like this, I needed more livestock. For the greater cause, I needed hunting dogs willing to carry out necessary evils in my stead.
A dog with strong opinions like Lorenz definitely had to be cut down, but if he was moderately obedient like this one, he was worth raising.
"You may go now."
"Yes, yes! Thank you!"
Hans left the office with the face of a man who had returned from the dead.
......
Sarah Muller's confession shattered the courtroom. The false birth registration itself was a grave violation of the Imperial Citizenship Act—a felony far worse than mere document forgery, as it disrupted the Aran bloodline. Thus, Oliver Muller was sentenced to death in just one day.
The execution was scheduled for the very next morning.
"Everyone, please prepare."
Sonette Kandel attended the execution ground of the Imperial Prison as an observer and physician.
"We will carry out the execution shortly."
Michael Oliver. The man who was once her friend stood there with a hood over his head. The weather stretching out behind him was clear.
Despite it being winter, the sky was unbelievably, flawlessly blue.
Suddenly, old memories softly bloomed in Sonette's mind. The days of her youth came rushing back.
Not on a gallows like that, but the image of a boy stepping onto a teacher's small desk, diligently helping to clean by adjusting the lights and dusting.
A shy child who was always engrossed in his studies with bright eyes, but couldn't utter a single proper word.
"......"
Sonette shook her head and brushed away those fragmented memories.
"Execution, ready."
The executioner said. A dozen or so death row inmates, including Oliver, stepped onto the trapdoors simultaneously.
"Execute."
With just that single word—Bang!
The trapdoors opened.
── Snap!
The thick ropes jerked their necks.
── Crackle! Crunch!
Their bodies dropped, severing their cervical vertebrae. The sound of bones crushing echoed in quick succession.
Amidst the gruesome noise, Sonette observed them. She watched death unfold.
"Execution complete."
At the guard's signal, she moved in her capacity as a doctor. She placed her fingers against the nape of Oliver's limp neck.
"Michael Oliver."
She picked up his chart while gazing at his body, which was growing coldly rigid.
"December 24th, 10:37 AM. Time of death, confirmed."
She recorded the time. The executioner took her chart and motioned toward the back door with his chin.
"Let's head straight to the autopsy room."
Even before the Imperial Citizenship Act took effect, it was a mandatory procedure to accurately identify and record the race and bloodline of death row inmates.
Sonette headed that way.
......
A space where the scents of cold alcohol and hot flesh hung in the air. An autopsy room where scalpels sliced skin and saws crushed bone.
Beyond the transparent glass wall stood Professor Oswin Mason, who had been granted special permission to observe.
Sonette picked up a scalpel.
Ssshk.
She sliced open Oliver's chest, where blood seeped out, pried open the sternum, and examined the crimson, halted heart within.
"......"
The size of the heart was confirmed. A form close to deformity was confirmed.
It was not that of an Aran.
It was the heart of a Sub-species.
Furthermore, because Oliver was a magic student who had trained his mana to a fairly high level, the pattern of mana mutation engraved into his heart's blood vessels and muscles was far more grotesque than that of a typical Sub-species.
Sonette lifted the heart. She looked at Oswin beyond the glass window. Oswin's gaze was also fixated on the organ.
As a mage who had spent his entire life with mana, there was no way he didn't know what this meant.
"...He really was a Sub-species. His heart looks exceptionally filthy."
The military surgeon from the Guard snickered next to her. Sonette moved to place the heart back into the chest cavity.
"Ah. Wait a moment, you can't. The heart of a Sub-species must be extracted and collected separately."
Sonette was curious about the reason but didn't ask. She simply set the heart down and exited the autopsy room.
The prison's break room.
"...The heart."
Sonette looked at her hand. As she clenched and unclenched it, recalling the sensation of the heart from moments ago, Oswin approached and sat across from her.
Sonette asked him.
"Professor. How is Ms. Sarah Muller doing now?"
"...She's resting."
"I see."
Sonette poured black tea from a thermos. Stirring quietly with a spoon, she looked out the window.
Before I knew it, a blizzard was raging again.
"It's a miracle the Guard kept her alive. They must certainly feel that they've been deceived."
At that, Oswin smiled bitterly.
"She was almost taken away. They actually came for her. But..."
At that moment, a single document sent by a certain Knight had stopped the Guard's execution.
"'Having raised him as her biological son for her entire life, her legal familial status is recognized. Therefore, under the 'Familial Exemption,' she shall not be held liable as a mother for the act of concealing a criminal's evidence...'"
"Is that so."
Sonette drank her tea. Oswin tore at his hair, still engulfed in confusion.
"Anyway, since it turned out like that, don't worry about Ms. Sarah. There are many students who survived thanks to her. Those friends will take care of her in Oliver's stead..."
Oswin couldn't bear to finish his sentence. He bit his trembling lip tight and lowered his head.
Drip. Drop.
The professor, well into his middle age, was shedding tears.
The sobs that leaked out were not much different from those of a child.
It seems that when adults cry or laugh with all their heart, they regress to being like children.
"Khhk... Hkk..."
"......"
Sonette looked at him impassively. She didn't think much of it.
Ah, the professor is crying.
He cries well.
"Professor."
For Sonette, there was merely a reality that had to be conveyed.
"His Majesty the Emperor is very pleased with the resolution of this Zestpol incident."
The events, including Oliver's execution, were a joy to the Emperor.
She lifted the warm teacup to her lips.
"Also, Maximilian's movements regarding Zestpol are quite unusual."
Pulling an envelope from her coat's inner pocket, she placed it quietly on the table.
"This is a plane ticket."
She advised him, looking straight at Oswin.
"It would be beneficial for your safety to stay in Kanilan for a while."
Whooosh──
The blizzard, which had grown fierce at some point, battered against the prison windows.
Sonette suddenly thought that the storm resembled Maximilian.
"......"
Oswin turned his gaze and looked at the same place she did.
Perhaps he, too, was thinking the exact same thing.