Chapter 171: The Sentinels...
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 171: The Sentinels...
District 14, the heart of the Empire.
I was scouring the site of the explosion. Sonette was lingering there too, getting in my way. She wandered about, appearing to inspect every nook and cranny—or perhaps she was just sightseeing—before suddenly crouching in front of a pile of shattered concrete.
She was a needless distraction.
“Miss Sonette. If you’re here for a real estate tour, I must ask you to—”
“Hm?”
Sonette’s eyes suddenly widened.
“Sir Maximilian.”
Calling my name, she picked something up with her gloved hand.
“What do you suppose this is?”
“What…?”
It was a piece of metal, roughly the size of my palm. My brow twitched. I had already scoured this site. Even with the Virus’s heightened senses, I hadn’t found a thing. How had Sonette?
“Was that there the whole time?”
“Yes. Right here.”
I walked over and took the metal fragment from her. Sonette stared at me with a blank expression, then rose to her feet and started walking toward the exit.
Click. Clack.
It seemed she was suddenly planning on going home.
“...Ah.”
Then she stopped again.
“That phrase you used… ‘A knight does not abandon their comrades.’”
She turned back to me and asked, “May I ask why Anton was excluded?”
Had she, too, recognized the man’s worth?
I gave a smile that was more like a weary sigh.
“This was the only way to truly protect Anton.”
“…”
Sonette fell silent, her eyes demanding a deeper explanation. I glanced down at the metal in my palm. I still didn’t know exactly what it was, but she had handed me a rather suspicious piece of evidence. I supposed I owed her a proper answer.
“I am certain that someday, in the distant future when the Empire is a little more peaceful…”
I spoke of a day yet to come.
I do not entertain thoughts of failure, nor of humanity's defeat. We will, with our own hands, save our world and our home from ruin. And once we have swept away the great evil that is Izenheim…
“A day will surely come when we need men like Anton Zefren.”
The era I envision.
In the future that will continue long after the fighting, crying, laughing, and raging have ceased…
“This is a preservation for that day.”
A man like Anton will be there to soothe that generation.
“…”
Sonette peered into my eyes, as if trying to gauge my true intentions. Then, with the same impassive face, she nodded and pushed up her gold-rimmed glasses.
This time, it wasn’t her middle finger.
Click. Clack.
I watched her back as she turned and left the scene. Then, I looked down again at the metal fragment in my hand.
*
“—It’s a detonator.”
We were in an off-site office for Sentinel knights that I had established separately in the central district.
I frowned at Yukia’s words. “A detonator?”
“Yes.”
I had ordered the police to transfer all collected debris to this location and tasked Yukia with the analysis. Now, she placed the ‘detonator’ on a table covered with hundreds of other parts and fragments.
“This small primer was attached to the condenser’s core. It looks like a signal was sent from an external source to intentionally trigger the explosion.”
“...Are you sure?”
“Yes. The detonator is saturated with mana from the time of the blast. We can have the Magic Tower run an analysis to confirm.”
A detonator.
A new turn in the Cliff case.
“The incident itself was fabricated…”
I am not a man who abides by rigid principles, nor am I one who obsesses over theories. I am simply a man who serves a purpose. Cliff was merely a part of that.
A schism in the Sentinels would benefit the revolutionaries and Izenheim. A knight who—just like before my regression—is denied proper treatment, pushed aside by politics and factions, and ultimately betrayed by his ‘homeland’ would have no reason not to board the ship of revolution.
—That must never be allowed to happen.
Every single Sentinel knight was a vital asset who would play a crucial role in the coming war. To abandon even one of them was no different from abandoning them all.
The authority of a knight—the power of the Order—must be absolute. No matter what incident they experience, no matter what accident they cause, it must be possible to smooth it over for the sole reason that they are a Sentinel.
Just as the old Imperial Guard once did.
“Yukia. Request an analysis from the Magic Tower.”
From now on, the Knights’ very existence will serve as its own justification.
*
Recordings and wiretaps can be remarkably useful in life.
For Sonette Kandel, this was especially true.
She had bribed one of Kents’s close aides a long time ago. As a result, a great deal of what he said was relayed back to her. In truth, this was a common occurrence in the Imperial Palace. That was why it was wise for everyone to act as if they were always being overheard.
Of course, Kents had always conducted himself with that caution—until he was on the verge of getting what he wanted. He had grown careless, drunk on the cusp of success.
—Use that bastard Cliff. He’s the commoner with the strongest loyalty to Anton. Bribe an informant and feed him the information.
Kents’s scheme to use Cliff, Anton’s loyal follower.
—Once he’s dispatched, well, a major incident will occur. The rest is up to the media. Emphasize the need for control rather than the Knights’ incompetence, and highlight Cliff’s lowborn commoner origins. Then, even within the Knights…
Sonette had heard this plan in advance. The moment Cliff was dispatched to District 14 and the explosion occurred…
BOOOOOM—!
…before Kents’s cronies could dispose of the evidence, she had slipped in and swapped the remains of the detonator.
“…”
Inside the moving car, Sonette stared out at the darkness, lost in a thought befitting a noble.
Has anyone ever dared to grab me by the collar?
For her, having grown up in the Imperial Palace, the answer was no. For a member of House Kandel or House Ebenholtz, the moment someone grabbed their collar, that person would disappear from the face of the earth.
“How strange.”
Maximilian had suffered such a humiliation, yet he declared he would protect Cliff. And yet, that same man had become a racist who utterly despised sub-species.
He was an enigma.
She took a small magical recorder from her pocket and fiddled with it. A fanatical archivist, she recorded and collected nearly every moment she saw, heard, and experienced in her life, both in text and audio. It was a compulsive habit that went beyond merely listing events; she perfectly classified people by their expressions and conversations, all organized by time.
It was more than a hobby; it was a mission.
“...What are you planning to do now?”
Her escort in the driver’s seat—Ruben—asked cautiously. He was a trusted subordinate who had served as her right-hand man since their time in the Imperial Palace.
“I’ll have to deliver this recorder to Cliff.”
The recorder held Maximilian’s true thoughts on Anton. Sonette brushed her fingers over it absently.
“Why are you helping Ebenholtz?” Ruben asked again, his voice laced with puzzlement.
“...I wonder.”
The reason she had handed over the detonator—evidence that could have been used to control Kents Bertem—to Maximilian.
“I suppose I’m…” She paused, gazing blankly at the lights adorning the Empire’s night streets. “The kind of person who repays her debts.”
During the ‘Head-Eater’ incident, Maximilian had covered up the fact that her older brother, Jun, was involved, thereby protecting the Kandel family’s reputation. It was a significant debt.
“As of today, we’re even.”
Now, once again, she was on equal footing with him. Sonette quietly closed her eyes.
*
“...Whether this is the Palace’s machination, an attempt to sow discord, or whatever else, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
Swish—
Jerome, a high-ranking Sentinel, drew the curtains shut. The inside of the mansion was cast in shadow.
“That’s Cliff’s state of mind right now. With his reason clouded, the fragments of information leaked from the Imperial Palace gave him a justification.”
The problem wasn’t the truth of the rumors, but the state of mind of the one who received them.
“Maximilian might have actually attacked Sir Anton, or he might not have. Either way, it’s not important. The objective truth is irrelevant now.”
If Maximilian were to say, “It wasn’t me,” with his own mouth, he too would be breaking the Imperial Palace’s unwritten rule of silence.
“Sigh. Be that as it may.”
Tiana leaned back in her chair, sweeping her gaze over the faces in the room. The remnants of Anton’s old faction had gathered here, in Jerome’s mansion, to discuss the Cliff incident.
“...So the Palace’s wiretapping wasn’t just a ghost story?”
Jerome nodded. It was why he had insisted on meeting at his own home.
“A sense of unease. After being a knight for over a decade, you start to notice a string of bizarre coincidences.”
Moments when it felt like key details of a case he was secretly investigating were being leaked.
“Usually, you suspect an insider. I did, too.”
Around his fifth year, Jerome had even had his administrative and office staff tailed.
“But as I traced who benefited from these leaks, I arrived at a certain point.”
The Imperial Palace.
So, around his seventh year, Jerome had deliberately leaked bait. He had discussed, within the Sentinels, an investigation into an illegal gambling den backed by an Imperial noble. Sure enough, the information was leaked, and the Imperial Guard cut their own loose ends first.
“...Honestly, I have one suspicious point myself,” Tiana said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Where, and how, did Sir Cliff get the information about District 14? Illegal mana stones aren’t even his area of expertise.”
Jerome and the other knights looked at Tiana.
“Besides, the illegal mana stones were being produced in District 14, not one of the lower districts. And it was in a block packed with private businesses? Isn’t that a little suspicious?”
The production of illegal mana stones was usually done in the lower districts. Statistically, 97 out of 100 cases were. It was the obvious choice to avoid the eyes of the central districts.
“What if someone intentionally leaked information to lure Cliff there?”
At Tiana’s words, Jerome fell into thought.
“Cliff is a knight who never refuses a mission.”
He was simply dispatched to carry out his duty.
“...He’s also a veteran. Someone of Cliff’s caliber would instinctively shy away from a dangerously unstable mana source.”
For a knight’s senses, avoiding unstable explosives like a mana condenser was second nature. And yet, Cliff had deliberately fired his sword aura in that direction, triggering a chain explosion.
“There’s a possibility it was manipulated by an external force,” Jerome concluded. Tiana nodded.
“Oh, and one more thing. I don’t think Max attacked Vice-Commander Anton.”
The knights flinched at her casual use of the name ‘Max.’
“He’s not the type to talk behind someone’s back, is he? Doesn’t his track record prove it?”
“...Because it’s not what a noble would do. He’d sooner kill you to your face than gossip behind your back.”
A bitter smile spread among the group at the words of Lupton, an eight-year veteran knight.
Jerome sank into deep thought. He closed his eyes and pondered, as if trying to feel his way through the ‘unseen’ forces at play.
“I will go see Vice-Commander Chiron.”
He shot up from his seat.
*
In the heart of the Empire, around the time the first hints of spring began to grace the streets, a public hearing was held for the establishment of the Minister of Commerce position and the confirmation of Kents Bertem.
Unlike the hearing for Anton Zefren, the atmosphere in the grand hall was already one of full-blown spring. It was as warm and relaxed as a festival.
“Hahaha! My early congratulations on your appointment as Minister of Commerce, Duke Bertem.”
“Now, now, the confirmation process isn’t even over. What’s there to congratulate?”
Kents Bertem, dressed in a sharp suit, feigned humility, but he couldn’t hide the smug smile playing on his lips.
“After the hearing, I’ve made a reservation at ‘Beat Gigas’.”
“...Ahem. Is that so? Well, very good.”
High-end restaurants had sprouted like mushrooms after the massive success of Lilac Vita. But they said none could match the original. Once he became Minister of Commerce, he’d be able to frequent Lilac Vita, too.
—Everyone, please be seated.
At last, the appointed time arrived. The nobles and key figures of the Imperial Palace took their seats. The public gallery was packed with people—knights, entrepreneurs, soldiers, and nobles.
Kents Bertem strode majestically through them and ascended to the candidate’s seat at the center of the dais.
—We will now begin the public hearing for the candidate for Minister of Commerce, Kents Bertem.
The chairman’s opening declaration rang out. Various officials and council members from the Imperial Palace began the pre-arranged line of questioning. Formal questions were exchanged smoothly.
“Candidate Bertem?”
“Yes.”
A council member asked, “The newly established position of Minister of Commerce includes practical control and budgetary authority over the Knights, who have maintained an independent status until now. We would like to hear the candidate’s views on this.”
“Yes. An excellent question. As we can see from the recent explosion tragedy in District 14, the Sentinel Knights are clearly in need of proper guidelines and integration…”
He didn’t disparage the Knights directly, merely speaking in vague, diplomatic terms. There was no need to needlessly provoke them.
“...In other words, for this position of Minister of Commerce, which will connect the Empire’s various institutions, the private sector, and the Knights, I dare say that I, Kents Bertem, am the most suitable person for the job.”
“Hmm. I am curious as to what specifically qualifies you, and what philosophy you hold.”
“Everything is predicated on trust and mutual respect. We will treat the Knights, the sword of the Empire, with honor, but within the bounds of the law…”
It was then, as Kents was spouting the lines he had prepared in advance, that a stir went through the audience.
From the very back of the hearing hall, in the press section, a strange murmur began to spread like a wave. A few reporters, with flustered faces, rushed outside. Soon after, someone came running back in, breathless, handed a book to one of the council members, and flipped it open to a specific page.
The council member who received the book frowned.
That wasn’t all. The reporter who brought the book showed it to another person, who then showed it to another… In an instant, the murmuring spread uncontrollably throughout the entire hall.
“Order in the hall! What is this commotion?” the chairman shouted, but the chamber was already writhing with unrest.
Eventually, the ‘book’ was passed to a minister sitting near the dais.
“It’s alright. Let us continue,” Kents said, forcing a relaxed smile. He cleared his throat and was about to speak again when—
“...‘Candidate Anton, you have remained a bachelor your entire life, insisting you would not marry, but you did have a lover with whom you were deeply involved in the past.’”
A voice rang out, reading aloud from the back of the room.
Words someone had spoken to Anton, once upon a time, in a secret room deep within the Imperial Palace.
Kents’s neck went stiff.