Chapter 160: Blizzard (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 160: Blizzard (2)
Inside a laboratory at Progen National University.
Professor Jean Pierre received a report from Akenji, the head of the Progen Central Intelligence Bureau.
"...There is a radical student group called the 'Correction Society'."
Jean Pierre furrowed his brow and lit a cigar.
"I heard it started as a small club formed in the basement of this very university."
The Correction Society. Jean Pierre repeated the unfamiliar name under his breath several times.
"Ah. I vaguely remember them."
They were the ones who always sat in the very back row during his lectures, hurling hostile questions at the ruling Socialist Party and staging violent protests whenever the party announced a new policy.
"Those students..."
Whoosh.
A gust of wind howled as the blizzard outside seeped through the cracks in the window. Jean Pierre stood up for a moment to shut it tight.
"Lately, the size of that 'Correction Society' has grown at an abnormal, rapid rate. It's no longer just a club; it has taken the form of a proper organization. They’ve even purchased their own building."
"A student club expanded its influence that much?"
Akenji nodded.
"One of our agents went undercover, contacted their lower-ranking members, and engaged them in conversation."
The agents had slowly infiltrated their base, observing their every move.
"They kept their mouths shut regarding the recent bombing incident involving Minister Louis Marceau... but they definitely seemed to know the man named 'Felix Renoir'."
Afterward, the agent investigated their funding.
Every month, a deliveryman handed over a specific box to the Correction Society. It was delivered exclusively to their leader, Clara Magal, but...
"We barely managed to acquire this single piece of paper."
Akenji took out a crumpled note and placed it on the table.
[ This is Felix. I hope you put this to good use. If you are ever short on anything, please let me know at any time. ]
The moment Jean Pierre read those few short lines...
"...Wait!"
He slapped a hand to his forehead as if struck by lightning. Startled, Akenji flinched and stubbed out his cigarette.
"W-What is it?"
"Here! This!"
Jean Pierre threw open his drawer and pulled out a familiar 'nameless answer sheet.' It contained the words of someone who had perfectly predicted the political situation in Zerpa—specifically, the mutual prosperity of the Empire and the success of Crown Prince Alonso.
"Look at this."
Jean Pierre and Akenji compared the handwriting of the answer sheet and the note side by side.
The sentences on the note were only a few lines long, but it was enough to confirm the uniquely elegant pen strokes.
"The handwriting is identical."
A detective's intuition flashed through Jean Pierre's mind.
Felix was the financier of the Correction Society.
Perhaps he was even more than that.
No, he most certainly was.
"Akenji. What do you think?"
Felix Renoir.
The genius who had left behind the nameless answer sheet, and the prime suspect for the assassination in Jean Pierre's mind.
"Could you continue to keep an eye on the Correction Society?"
At his request, Akenji gave a quiet nod.
In the heart of the Empire, a freezing blizzard was surging in.
The intellectual solidarity of Zestpol had been effectively dismantled. The Special Guard had meticulously investigated their backgrounds and thrown anyone who wasn't a pure Aranian into prison.
In that process, Captain Hans played a significant role.
Maximilian provided Hans with the intelligence capabilities of the Genen Annex. Tearing through the city like a rabid dog, Hans rooted out all reactionaries. As a reward for his contributions, his promotion to Major was confirmed.
Naturally, this sparked a rivalry over achievements with his immediate superior, Lieutenant Colonel Lorenz.
Maximilian had incited division and internal checks within the Special Guard, planting his own people in their midst. That one person would soon multiply into dozens, then hundreds.
Maximilian also borrowed Johann's pen to propose a new policy to the Emperor.
「Special Measures Act on the Imposition of Fines on Violators of the Imperial Citizenship Act and the Relief of the Aranian Poor」
It was a bill to collect fines from those purged under the 'Imperial Citizenship Act' to support the Empire's Aranian lower class.
This was a law that would have been enacted even without Maximilian, but in his previous life, the Special Guard and the nobles had swallowed all that slush fund money. This time, he would monitor it strictly to ensure it was distributed with as little leakage as possible.
"──Next! Next, hurry up! Show your ID!"
Crunch, crunch.
In the slums of the capital, heavy snow fell endlessly. Heaters and food were being delivered throughout the barren lower-class residential areas in the West, East, and North.
"H-Here..."
"Sarah Fisher. Correct. Take this and just press the red button; the heat will turn on immediately. It's charged with enough fuel to last through the entire winter and then some, so don't be stingy with it, and absolutely do not damage it!"
These were the economy-model heaters developed at Lorenzo Academy. They were designed with a complete lack of faith in human nature.
If someone tried to forcefully dismantle the heater to sell its parts, the internal Mana Circuit would tangle and shatter. Furthermore, the fuel tank was built-in as a single unit, making it impossible to siphon off the Mana Stone fuel to sell on the black market.
"These Aranian food vouchers can only be used if presented with your ID at the distribution center, so don't lose them."
"Y-Yes, sir. Thank you so much..."
"This is a special gift given only to Aranian subjects, so keep a close watch on your surroundings! Don't let any useless riffraff mingle with your kids!"
"Yes, yes sir..."
The lower-class citizens carefully hugged the strange-looking heaters and food vouchers to their chests, returning to their homes with blossoming smiles.
Whooooosh──!
Even amidst the raging blizzard, the heaters emanated a blue warmth. The number of people freezing to death in the Empire decreased significantly.
As it greeted the new year, the Empire was slowly, yet certainly, stepping into a deeper realm.
...
Secret invitations made of premium parchment were dispatched to several generals of the Imperial Regular Army.
「Invitation to the Imperial Regimental Banquet」
It was a New Year's banquet hosted by Maximilian.
The core figures from the previous year were invited once again, but this time, there was a special proviso.
[ All of you who have received this invitation are our honored guests. For this banquet, you may bring along exactly one like-minded comrade as your plus-one. ]
"Ahem..."
Because of this, Major General Maut fell into a profound dilemma.
This was the final crucial event of the year. The term 'honored guest' sounded pleasing, but the fact that he could only bring one person was agonizing.
"Exactly one comrade, huh..."
Major General Maut had already formed a private organization called the 'Genen Society,' centered around the commanders who had participated in the Genen Suppression operation last year. That operation was a great source of pride for them. The other generals in the society must have received this invitation as well.
Riiiing—
Just then, the terminal on his desk rang.
"Hello. Ah, yes. Lieutenant General Litruman. Haha."
Maut stood up and answered the phone warmly, looking out the window at the snow-covered parade ground.
"A year has already flown by. I heard the news. Congratulations."
Lieutenant General Litruman was having the time of his life.
He was a political general who had stepped back from the front lines, practically cutting his connections and waiting for retirement. However, as Empire Point was revived thanks to Maximilian's financial investment, the position of Dean of Empire Point had suddenly emerged as a key post in the military.
"Yes. Yes. Ah, we are also conducting our training very intensely."
Maximilian emphasized discipline and training. Rumors were widespread that he occasionally rewarded units with excellent training records. The generals were maintaining strict discipline, if only to secure a lifeline to Maximilian.
"Then, shall we gather sometime before the banquet to discuss things? Yes, yes. Honestly, there isn't a military event as important as the banquet these days, is there?"
「Imperial Regimental Banquet」
What had been merely a dinner hosted by a young knight just a year ago had now become the most intimate center of power for the top brass of the Imperial Regular Army.
"Yes. Then... Excuse me? Lilac Vita? Wait, you managed to secure tickets for that? Ah, he gave them to you."
In this way, they began to form a cartel of their own.
The meeting that day would be their lifelong pride; the meal would be an unforgettable joy; and the gifts would become heirlooms passed down through their families for generations.
"Yes. Then, with gratitude. I'll see you that day."
However, 'he,' who single-handedly orchestrated this entire system...
...was standing beyond the veil of darkness.
The Imperial Palace, located in the heart of the Empire.
This place was radiant all year round. It was no metaphor. Whether a blizzard raged or a rainstorm scattered outside, the palace was a magical space where every moment was a spring day, unhindered by the seasons.
"...Lord Ebenholtz, it's right this way."
I attended the enigmatic palace today.
It was to testify regarding the reputation of a certain 'candidate.'
── Creeeak.
The imperial butler opened the door, and I stepped inside. Unlike the lavish exterior, the interior was a plain office where two palace officials sat waiting.
"A pleasure to meet you, Lord Ebenholtz."
One of them gestured to an empty chair.
"Please, have a seat."
I sat down without a word. Crossing my legs, I raised an eyebrow—a gesture telling them to speak first.
I had come here not as a knight, but as an Ebenholtz. The etiquette of the Ebenholtz nobility was inherently like this. The standard of formality I had internalized was exceedingly high, and I would not squander it on mere bureaucrats.
"Yes. You must have already guessed why you are here, but..."
The officials didn't seem to mind my attitude.
"We would like to ask Lord Ebenholtz about the qualifications and public reputation of Anton, the candidate for Knight Commander."
The day was not far off. The term of the current Sentinel Knight Commander had already expired, and it was time for a new face to step in.
"First of all, Lord Ebenholtz. This is regarding the period during which Candidate Anton served as Vice Commander."
One investigator asked the question while the other began transcribing the minutes.
"Vice Commander Anton emphasized the recruitment of commoner talent within the order, and there have been far more retrial petitions for commoner knights than ever before. What do you think about this?"
Anton belonged to the reformist faction. When he became Vice Commander over a decade ago, he appointed numerous commoners with outstanding talent as knights. They had now become the pillars of the Sentinels.
I answered calmly.
"Vice Commander Anton is a man who believes in human potential. He likely thought that commoners should be given the same opportunities as nobles."
The official raised an eyebrow.
"I see. What does Lord Ebenholtz think of Candidate Anton in that regard?"
The investigator turned the page. It seemed they had prepared a script beforehand.
"Well. I haven't given it much detailed thought."
"Then I will speak straightforwardly. There have been disturbing rumors circulating that Candidate Anton is dissatisfied with the Empire's policies, including the class system."
A peculiar gleam flickered behind the official's round glasses.
"Especially after the recent enforcement of the 'Imperial Citizenship Act,' we have seen signs of conflicting opinions within the Sentinel Knights."
It was true. A person arrested by a noble knight would have their retrial demanded by a commoner knight, prompting the noble to visit the commoner's office where they would shout at each other.
"There is significant internal testimony claiming that this chaos is due to Candidate Anton's tacit protection. What do you think?"
It was a provocative statement. It was easy to see the frame Anton's enemies in the palace had devised.
I replied briefly.
"I cannot look into the minds of others. Since Anton himself is from a fallen noble family—essentially a commoner—he might be particularly inclined to embrace them."
"...Hmm. Regarding that point."
The official let out a small chuckle.
"In fact, Vice Commander Anton has said, 'I, who had nothing, became the Vice Commander. Because I have done it myself, I believe that if commoners are just given the opportunity, they are more than capable of doing it as well.' What are your thoughts on this?"
This, of all things, was absolute bullshit.
Not because I was conscious of the eavesdropping ears in the palace, but as a matter of personal conviction, I had to deny it.
"It is a delusion," I declared firmly.
The official blinked. "A delusion, you say?"
"Vice Commander Anton is laboring under the delusion that talents like his are simply wandering the docks, the markets, or the sewers of the slums."
"To dismiss it as a mere delusion... wouldn't issues of family background and education also play a large role?"
"...That is not the kind of talent I am talking about."
I looked the official in the eye.
"The standard for it is hundreds of times higher than anything a commoner like you could conceive."
The official's fingertips trembled.
Pronunciation and intonation. Ingrained habits. The state of the skin, the calluses. The movement of the pupils.
This official was a commoner. Even if he had spent over a decade trying to launder his identity, he could not deceive my eyes. Because I—this family named Ebenholtz—was the very definition of true nobility.
"Perhaps, Lord Ebenholtz, you could tell us about this standard you have in mind?" he asked quietly.
Gladly.
I raised a finger.
"If one can learn mana, swordsmanship, or academics, then they are simply capable of learning. If one can understand, then they are simply capable of understanding."
The official listened in silence.
"My standard goes beyond that mere level. Can one, as an 'individual,' influence the flow of this world... such a massive, turbulent wave?"
The war that would soon arrive. History would surge forward for the sake of humanity's survival; could one protect themselves even in that despair? Could they overcome the fated tides of the world and safeguard the grand ambition of humanity alongside me?
To me, that is what talent is.
"Vice Commander Anton was clearly one of them. But such talent might appear only once in a generation. Someone like Anton was a fluke of nature. Such talent is ultimately discovered by the era. However, right now, he is being squandered by his own temperament."
In these turbulent times, his gentle heart is nothing but a handicap. It is of no help to himself, to the knight order, or to this world.
"..."
The official remained silent for a moment, then nodded.
"Then, let me ask you."
This political strife would be an agonizingly long and exhausting torment for Anton. The nobles of the imperial palace would resort to every trick to tear him down. Nevertheless, Anton would never step down of his own accord. Though he possessed a gentle disposition, he was no coward who would abandon his convictions and run.
"Does Lord Ebenholtz believe that Candidate Anton is a suitable person to serve as the Knight Commander of the Sentinels?"
I looked at the official. The official looked back.
"He is..."
I drew out my words as if pondering, but my thoughts had been set from the very beginning.
"I believe he is highly unfit."