Chapter 162: Blizzard (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 162: Blizzard (4)
Maximilian's mansion on the affluent Klein-Schmidt Street, District 3 of the Capital.
[I will cherish it. Thank you~]
It was a reply from Yelena.
Stroke, stroke. I set the parchment down while petting Leo, who was curled in my lap.
Right now, this is the only lifeline I can offer Yelena.
Before my regression, I had only read about the course of The Great Purge in books. Because of that, I could vaguely guess how it would unfold, but I couldn't know the precise details.
She will have to use this parchment to save herself.
"The Great Purge..."
The event that would dye the Eastern Union in blood. Amidst such a thick storm of slaughter, Robrus's Ebenholtz—the Yumanovs—would be destroyed.
Yelena's father, Kirov Yumanov, was widely judged to be a man of colossal ambition. If the Chancellor was Izenheim, there was no way he would just sit back and watch him.
In that regard, the difference between the Yumanovs and the Ebenholtzes lay in their 'Head of the Household.'
Zebestian was different from them. He had abandoned his ambition. Instead, he devoted himself to becoming the Sword of the Empire. He humbly obeyed the Emperor's every word and made all of the Emperor's desires his own.
He was a retainer whose loyalty served a greater cause, considered one of the finest in the history of the Empire.
"..."
A thought suddenly occurred to me.
A man whom some look up to and revere their entire lives, while others curse him for eternity.
But either way, he is an entity whose mere presence by my side exerts the greatest influence on my life.
"...That is what they call a 'father'."
Zebestian never loved me. I never received his help, either. And at some point, I even stopped wishing for those things.
Crushed by endlessly repeating evaluations and impossibly high standards, I had merely become a soft, pathetic mess, like rotten tofu.
But after going through all that and returning to this world now...
Zebestian frustrated me. I couldn't understand him.
Having let go of the Imperial Palace and politics, he felt almost pathetic to me—simply obeying the Emperor even when His Majesty was swayed by treacherous subjects into waging nonsensical wars.
But what if Zebestian had harbored uncontrollable greed and ambition like Kirov Yumanov?
Or what if he was an overly ambitious man who couldn't surrender his power and ego until the very end?
Would I, too, have been purged like the Yelena of the past?
As such, Zebestian’s existence has always been a paradox to me.
He is by no means a proper father. He has never hugged me warmly or called my name affectionately.
However, the power and authority I possess now—which allow me to plot my grand ambitions at the center of the Empire—are rooted in the foundation of that flawless loyalty Zebestian established through his own dedication.
I despise him, yet without his shadow, I can achieve nothing.
Because of that, I am Zebestian's son.
* * *
A bitter wind raged through the center of the Empire.
A blizzard so blinding that one couldn't see an inch ahead.
With Vice Commander Anton's hearing rapidly approaching, the atmosphere within the Sentinel Knights was as precarious as walking on thin ice.
Every time they walked down the hallways, rested in the lounge, or went out on a dispatch, everyone could feel the invisible lines drawn taut between the knights.
Knights of commoner origins supported their only hope, Vice Commander Anton, while knights of noble birth rallied around the new power, Chiron.
"Hannah."
Even as Hannah was making coffee, a senior knight from Anton's faction approached her. His name was Cliff, a knight in his ninth year. Right now, it seemed they were desperate for the support of even one more sword.
Just as he grabbed Hannah's shoulder, about to say something—
"Just go, Hannah."
Tiana suddenly appeared, blocking the senior knight's path.
She waved Cliff off before whispering to her.
"If possible, stay out of mud-slinging fights like this. Knights are basically independent contractors looking out for themselves anyway."
"...Yes."
Tiana was now a respectable second-year knight, while Hannah had just shed her first-year label.
Though their tenure in the Knights differed by only a single year, the depth of their lived experiences and the way they viewed the world were starkly different.
"Hannah, want to grab dinner tonight?"
"No. I've been really busy lately. I practically live in the cafeteria."
In truth, she had to save money. She had a lot of equipment to buy. Things like that.
"Really? That's a shame. See you later then."
Hannah returned to her office.
[Knight Hannah Usar]
Compared to her rookie days, she had grown quite a bit. Her space was larger, and she had far more furnishings and office supplies.
But more than anything, she loved the increased salaries of her administrative and working-level staff. It meant she was now someone capable of taking care of them.
Slurp.
Taking a sip of her coffee, Hannah quietly stared at the wall.
Neatly arranged on her desk were the original pedigree certificates of her administrative and working-level staff. Hannah's own was among them. All of them were genuine documents that had passed thorough verification by the Imperial offices.
Hannah hailed from a backwater village in the Empire, but precisely because of that, her bloodline was impeccably pure.
After all, there was no reason for Sub-species like the Izenheim or other races, who swarmed at the scent of money, to crawl their way into a barren, decaying countryside on the frontier.
What absurd bastards they were.
Lately, Hannah was beginning to understand the phrase, 'Parasites trying to suck the lifeblood and fruits of the Empire.'
If they just lived peacefully farming in the provinces, that would be one thing, but they were a bunch of swindlers who stubbornly crawled into the center just to score a big cut.
"...Knight. We've identified a few more suspicious individuals."
Just then, a staff member brought in a few more photographs. Hannah pinned them to the corkboard with thumbtacks.
"As you instructed, after investigating their registries, they are highly suspected to be Izenheim."
Hannah wasn't one to hold grudges, but she made sure to remember the scumbags who scammed poor people like her. Loan sharks sucking the lifeblood of commoners, malicious merchants targeting penniless students to rip them off, and con artists.
"Tell the informants to track their movements. Physical evidence or testimonies are bound to show up."
"Yes, ma'am."
After the staff member withdrew, Hannah sat in her office chair and fell deep into thought.
Jacob.
It all started with him.
The Sub-species who tried to frame her while wearing the mask of a classmate. It had already been a few years, but Hannah still couldn't understand his malice.
What exactly did I do to wrong you?
... Grind.
Gritting her teeth, Hannah stared at the photos of the scumbags she had referred to the Knight Court and had executed.
[Ezra, 57-year-old male]
That vicious con artist who had embezzled the meager savings of hundreds of poor commoner cadets during her time at Empire Point, under the pretext of sending letters to their hometowns, and fled.
[Autopsy Result: Sub-species, confirmed mana-mutated heart]
The autopsy result was Sub-species.
The investigation into his roots revealed he was Izenheim.
[Lea, 33-year-old female]
An evil apothecary in the slums on the outskirts of the capital who sold cheap mana painkillers disguised as cure-alls, forcing the patients suffering from the side effects to take out loans using their organs as collateral.
[Autopsy Result: Sub-species, confirmed mana-mutated heart]
Likewise, the autopsy result was Sub-species.
Tracing her bloodline also revealed she was Izenheim.
"How fascinating."
Clack. Hannah set down her coffee cup. She glared piercingly at the photos pinned to the board.
Quite coincidentally, all of them were Izenheim, but there were still many left.
The Empire was teeming with trash that needed to be hunted down and killed.
'—Knight Hannah Usar. If the outcome is right, do not hesitate to use any means necessary.'
Suddenly, the words Maximilian had murmured to her once echoed in her ears.
'We are short on time, and you have your own power and authority.'
I have my own authority.
Hannah Usar seemed to finally be grasping the melody of those words.
* * *
The confirmation hearing for Vice Commander Anton to become the Commander of the Knights finally commenced. The beginning was strictly held under the principle of a 'Closed Hearing.'
Anton was summoned alone into the deepest secret chamber of the Imperial Palace.
It was a grueling and arduous process: two weeks behind closed doors, followed by three days of public sessions, and then a final closed-door review before the ultimate appointment was made.
However, I was able to receive updates on Anton's situation through people inside the Imperial Palace. I won't bother mentioning who they were.
...There is a curly-haired guy I know quite well. You know, Reurn II.
Day One.
When Anton emerged from the secret chamber after the long hearing, numerous Sentinel Knights approached him. The knights who respected him asked many questions, but Anton kept his mouth firmly shut.
From what I heard, the contents of the letters Anton had exchanged with scholars from the Eastern Union and his friends in the Western Republic were all leaked, and he was attacked with every single sentence being dissected.
Anton defended himself, but one of his close friends attended as a witness and betrayed him.
'Anyway, that's what they say~ Those are the rumors circulating inside~ Are you curious about what was in the letters? Want me to tell you?'
Those were the words of an insider whose identity I cannot reveal.
Day Two.
Kents Bertem and officers of the Imperial Guard appeared as Imperial witnesses taking issue with Anton's ideology. The distortions and sophistry pouring from their mouths spread even past the thick iron doors.
'Wow~ That guy Kents is ruthless. The Guard officers must have found Anton to be a real eyesore all this time too~ But that Kents is a fucking idiot. The more I look at him, the more of an idiot he is. Ah, if by any chance he asks for a Lilac Vita reservation ticket, you absolutely can't give it to him...'
That day, I watched from afar as Anton's exhausted figure left the Imperial Palace and returned to his residence. I probably wasn't the only one; countless Sentinel Knights must have watched him too.
Day Three.
This time, witnesses from the Knights favoring Anton appeared. Among them was Jerome, serving as the representative of the commoner knights. They defended Anton's innocence, chivalry, and loyalty.
'They said the knights cried. That hairy guy, I mean. Well, I don't know if it's really something to cry about~ But honestly, it was pretty ridiculous.'
According to Rtern II, word spread that several people had shed tears.
The fourth and fifth days were holidays.
I figured I'd probably be called in around next week, but to my surprise, the Imperial Palace directly invited me during the holidays.
"Knight Maximilian."
The man who greeted me in the secret chamber was the Emperor's closest confidant. Chief of Staff Kurt Grossman.
"With the Knights in an uproar over Anton's hearing these days, it must be quite nerve-wracking for you. I apologize for calling you in on a holiday. However, this matter is actually something His Majesty personally requested, so it couldn't be helped."
"Please, do not worry. If it is His Majesty's will, I will do anything."
I nodded firmly.
I was imitating Zebestian. I was feigning a loyalty that was strictly for the Emperor alone.
In fact, this was the exact expression Zebestian wore whenever he spoke of the Emperor.
"...Only, this time it is a rather dangerous mission."
A chilly smile crept onto Grossman's lips.
"At the same time, it is politically very difficult diplomacy."
Dangerous and difficult.
Coming from him, it was likely true, but Grossman's face looked quite amused to be pushing it onto me.
"Yes. Please give the order."
I answered as if I was unfazed, but truthfully, I was inwardly tense.
Because this was an issue that either hadn't happened before my regression or was something I hadn't known about.
"The leader of the Eastern Union, Robrus."
Grossman abruptly brought it up. As he did, he offered me a premium cigar, but I politely declined.
"I suppose you don't smoke. This is excellent medicine for burning away stress, though."
Let me know whenever you need some later. I run my own cigar farm, you see.
He lit it and took a deep drag.
"...Knight Maximilian. His Majesty wishes for a definite reduction in the threat from the East, which aims for our Empire's back."
Tap. Tap. With his finger, he tapped on a map of the continent that had been prepared in advance on the desk.
"Look at it geographically. The territory of the Eastern Union is endlessly vast and dense, making it near impossible to conquer in a short period. On the other hand, the Western Alliance countries are pressed far too closely against the heart of the Empire. But if—what if the Empire goes to war with the East first? The Empire will fall into the swamp of an endless war of attrition, and..."
In the meantime, the Western Alliance would strike right into the heart of the Empire. Therefore, a two-front war had to be avoided, and the rear had to be stabilized first.
It was a sound argument.
"Just in time, a key figure of the East, Yumanov, has visited the Empire of his own accord, naturally giving us a justification to make contact with them."
Exhaling cigar smoke, Grossman stared at me piercingly.
"Maximilian. Could you go to Robrus yourself?"
"...You mean me, sir?"
"Indeed. Closely observe the volatile political situation there, and if possible..."
He trailed off, smirking slyly. At that moment, I realized the core of this mission.
It was 'that.'
"Non-aggression."
At my word, Grossman smiled deeply, as if I had hit the correct answer.
"You are quick on the uptake, as expected. However, considering the East's current attitude, even bringing up the subject will be extremely difficult."
Outwardly, they frantically cursed and criticized the Imperial Citizenship Act.
Although they engaged in diplomacy and trade with each other, non-aggression would be 'thought of' as an issue that couldn't even be discussed as empty talk.
"You just need to firmly lay the groundwork for negotiations."
I struggled to swallow the laughter bubbling up inside me.
'A near-impossible mission.'
The old raccoons of the Imperial Palace and the Emperor were likely thinking that. In fact, by the common sense of 'this current point in time,' it was true. Anyone who could read the political situation of the Empire or the continent would see that the East had absolutely no reason to sign a non-aggression pact with the Empire.
Perhaps this mission itself was a trick by those Imperial Guard bastards to deal a political blow to me.
"It is a very difficult task. We all know it."
But to the contrary, Varmil Maxtoon of the Eastern Union would welcome this proposal.
Because of 'The Great Purge.'
During that chaotic vacuum when the military shook and generals' heads rolled, a firm guarantee that the Empire wouldn't stab them in the back would be something he'd be desperate for as well.
"Rather, because of that, there aren't many people we can entrust with this. I couldn't think of anyone but you."
The Empire's position was the same. Even if the East's military power was temporarily paralyzed by The Great Purge, hastily provoking that brown bear was an act of suicide. Robrus's population was massive, and its territory vast.
Above all, the moment the Empire launched a preemptive strike on the East, it would lead to the worst-case scenario: the Western countries uniting to counter the Empire's threat.
"..."
I closed my eyes. I took a slow, deep breath.
It was a difficult-looking but actually uncomplicated piece of diplomacy disguised as an impossible mission.
However, I couldn't let it show. Instead, I had to feign the exact opposite.
"Your opinion?"
Grossman asked.
I quietly opened my eyes. Clenching my teeth and barely holding back my laughter, I answered.
"If it is the path for His Majesty, I will gladly bear that burden."
"...As expected. It's just like you, Maximilian Ebenholtz."
To Grossman, who was likewise feigning a resolute expression, I added one final sentence.
"Only for the Empire..."