Chapter 173: The Sentinels... (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 173: The Sentinels... (3)
In the faint light of dawn, when the stars were but a distant cluster in the sky, I looked at Cliff, who stood before me.
“……”
“……”
A man ten years my senior had been kneeling in silence for some time.
Honestly, it was awkward and uncomfortable. I wondered if the situation truly warranted this, or perhaps my threshold for this kind of feudal groveling had simply become too low.
“I’m sorry.”
Those were Cliff’s first heavy words. I set down my pen.
“I was a fool.”
I gazed down at him for a moment before letting out a dry, humorless chuckle. Misunderstanding my intent, Cliff bowed his head even lower.
“I am not asking for forgiveness. However—”
“It’s all right.”
I rose from my seat and approached him, pulling him up by his sturdy shoulders. I looked directly into his wavering eyes.
“...So, what responsibility will you take?”
Cliff nodded gravely, as if he had already steeled himself for the worst.
“Dismissal, or whatever else—I will accept it gladly. If you want my life, you can have it.”
“……”
How bloodthirsty. To speak of his life over a mere scuffle—he certainly was a hard-headed fool. And yet, I found I rather liked that extremist nature of his.
“No.”
Cliff possessed exceptional martial prowess. Of course, there was no shortage of such men among the knights, but in terms of pure destructive power, he was one of the best on any battlefield.
“That is not the responsibility I want from you.” I shook my head firmly. “Sir Cliff. A Sentinel is, in the end, a Sentinel.”
For a moment, a blank expression crossed Cliff’s face.
“Therefore, we—and I—will protect you.”
He seemed unable to comprehend my words, unable to fathom my intention to pull him from the mire.
“So, I need you to be shameless.”
That was the ‘responsibility’ I expected from the knights.
Omnipotence.
From this day forward, we would stand above the laws of the Empire. We would become idols of reverence to the civilians and objects of terror to those who called themselves powerful.
“As a knight, you must believe in your own authority. When a Knight of the Empire is carrying out a great cause, what does the sacrifice of a few civilians truly matter?”
In the war that would soon be upon us, we would have to cut down hundreds of thousands, no, millions of lives. All for the singular purpose of victory—for humanity’s survival.
Guilt was worth less than dog food.
“...Most importantly,” I said, walking past him. “It was not your fault, Sir Cliff. Follow me.”
I led him to my private office, a place beyond the reach of the Imperial Palace’s eyes and ears.
*
The next day.
The Sentinel Knights gathered in the external office. Vice-Commander Chiron, High Knight Jerome, Tiana, and the man at the center of it all, Cliff. All their eyes were fixed on the large table.
“...You brought all of this?” A disbelieving laugh escaped Tiana’s lips.
“Almost all of it.”
An enormous number of mechanical parts recovered from the scene were laid out in neat rows. They were the remains of the mana condenser from District 14, the one said to have been shattered by Cliff’s sword strike.
Soot-blackened outer armor, mana conduits melted beyond recognition, and shattered fragments of mana stones. Even the tiniest screws, warped and melted by the inferno—nearly everything from the site had been collected and sorted.
It was the result of Yukia and the administrative officers pulling an all-nighter.
“This is the most important piece.”
From the center of that graveyard of fragments, I picked up a chunk of metal that had remained relatively intact.
“The detonator.”
I showed it to them, enunciating each syllable clearly.
“It’s a remote detonator, designed to receive an external signal and trigger an artificial explosion.”
In the silent office, I scanned the faces of the assembled knights one by one. Cliff was now calm and composed. Jerome and Tiana looked as if they’d expected as much. And Chiron wore a cold, snake-like smile.
“In other words,” I said, placing the detonator on the table with a sharp thud. “Someone set a trap in District 14, lured Sir Cliff there, and intended to frame him for the explosion.”
“What about the informant who gave Sir Cliff the tip?” Tiana asked.
I answered curtly. “Found dead last night.”
They had moved quickly. I had more than enough suspicion as to who was behind this, but without evidence, I couldn't hold them accountable yet.
“The mastermind who dared to slander a Knight of the Empire…”
But it was only a matter of time. Cutting off the tail doesn't hide the body. Those who dared to play games with the Sentinels as their pawns would pay a fitting price.
“We will find them, and we will crush them.”
I had that much power now.
*
Kents Bertem’s reputation plummeted.
With the public release of the Anton Zefren Closed Hearing Transcript, the Sentinels gained the justification to reject him. They then launched a full-scale reinvestigation into the Cliff incident in cooperation with the Magic Tower.
The factions that had backed Kents were thrown into a panic, scrambling to cut their ties with him.
“Sir. A reply has arrived from Minister Einz.”
On a particularly warm spring day, Schatz approached me respectfully in the front garden of the estate and handed me the report. I had sent a top-grade mana stone sculpture, carved by a master artisan, to Minister of Internal Affairs Einz Greifenberg, who had aided the Sentinels during the hearing.
“He was extremely pleased with the Lilac Vita reservation ticket and the gift.”
Einz was not a particularly scrupulous man. He was also expensive. He wouldn’t even glance at petty bribes, only accepting the big ones. However, there were few honest men in the upper echelons of the Empire, and such an environment was, in fact, advantageous for me.
After all, there was no one on this continent who could stuff as much money into pockets as I could.
“That’s a relief.”
I gave a faint smile and looked forward again. A line of Yaken stood in the yard.
“So. This makes seven of you?”
“Yes.”
This time, it was Yukia who nodded. They all looked nervous, but there were seven of them in total.
“Woof!” Leo suddenly barked.
“Right. Eight, including you.”
In any case, they were an invaluable resource. Like Yukia, they could smell the scent of Izenheim. Despite my long search for Yaken, this was all I had managed to find.
“It’s good to have you all.”
Should I give the group a name? The Aran Squad… no, that sounded too soft.
“From now on, you will work for the Empire. Uphold your honor. The authority and treatment of every Yaken on this continent rests on your shoulders.”
On second thought, it was probably better for them to operate without a name. They were a force that must never be exposed to the outside world.
“Yukia, I’m entrusting their training to you. You’re their captain from now on.”
“……”
Yukia nodded. She was trying hard to maintain a neutral expression, but the slight upturn of her lips betrayed her pleasure.
“Everyone, we’ll start with physical training. Run.”
—Yes, sir!
These Yaken needed to be able to move fast. They could never afford to get tired. Each one was more precious than a mountain of gold, so they had to develop the strength to protect themselves.
I watched them for a moment before picking up a document.
[List of Death Row Inmates]
It was a record of criminals on whom the death sentence had been or was scheduled to be carried out: swindlers, murderers, embezzlers, thought criminals, vicious loan sharks, and terrorists. The document detailed the numerous criminals referred to the Knight Court.
I picked up my fountain pen. Among the death row inmates, any ‘sub-species’ whose identity was unclear or who had even the slightest suspicious circumstances were, without exception, checked off as ‘Izenheim.’
Slowly but surely, I was manipulating the continent’s statistics.
Scritch, scritch.
As I scribbled my signature on the documents, my pen suddenly stopped. I rested my chin on my hand, lost in thought for a moment.
“...Slowly but surely.”
Izenheim. Why hadn’t they waited patiently?
The discrimination and contempt for the Izenheim that had accumulated over hundreds of years of the continent’s history were, in large part, their own doing. They had burrowed into the weak links of human society, even while being hated for it. They had obsessed over the ‘capital’ needed to expand their kin’s influence and had instigated revolutions and civil wars.
So why hadn't they worn the mask of a good neighbor? Why hadn't they assimilated into human society, smiling kindly and biding their time? Human greed would eventually make them sick, so it would have been far better to quietly wait for the Empire to self-destruct…
“...The reason they didn’t.”
Perhaps it wasn't that they didn't… but that they couldn't.
Lately, I couldn't shake a hypothesis that flickered in my mind. Just as I was racing against the clock, driven by the impending doom… perhaps the Izenheim, too, were bound by some ‘time limit’ that we knew nothing of.
Trill—!
My knight terminal rang sharply.
[Murder reported in the underground chapel of Central District 18, suspected to be the work of the Cross Killer. Multiple mana traces at the scene. Requesting analysis of active residual traces and support.]
The Cross Killer. The serial killer, who had vanished for some time, had suddenly resumed their activities.
*
There are certain types of people in this world who cannot be persuaded. Those who can never be on our side. People whose beliefs and life trajectories are incompatible with the Empire, not just because of the Izenheim and the extermination of their race.
Enemies who would forever run on a parallel line to my great cause.
“The evidence is faint this time, too.”
I arrived at the crime scene. The victim’s chest had been carved open in the shape of a cross, and the detective was sighing heavily.
“It’s also unclear why the killings have suddenly resumed after being dormant for so long…”
This was likely just the beginning. In truth, I already knew who the killer was. To be precise, I knew the ‘gang’ she belonged to. They were part of the Revolutionary Group—a band of irregulars who called themselves the “Outcasts.”
“It’s a completely random killing with no commonalities between the victims—”
“No. There is a commonality.”
All of the Cross Killer’s victims were researchers from a secret laboratory called ‘T24.’ On the surface, it was disguised as an ordinary company, but behind the scenes, it was a den of demons that conducted human experiments.
The Cross Killer was a former test subject who had escaped from there. Her name was ‘Elze.’
“Is that true?! In that case—”
“This matter is classified as Level 2 secrecy.”
“...Ah, yes. Understood.”
The detective didn’t press further. He watched me cautiously, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.
“Then… should we withdraw?”
The T24 Laboratory was sponsored by Mason Industries, a massive corporation in the western Empire. It was practically a subsidiary.
Yes, Mason Industries. The ones who had killed Schatz’s father and tried to send her to the executioner’s block as well. Before long, the group known as the “Outcasts” and the corporation known as Mason Industries would clash.
“You may.”
“Ah, really? May I report that to the station? Under your name, Sir Maximilian!”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, thank you so much!”
How did I know all this in such detail? The Outcasts were the handful of mutants who had pierced the Empire’s heart before my regression. Legends who had blossomed their talents from the gutter and overturned the heavens. Their story was adapted into a comic that became a bestseller across the continent.
In my life as a fugitive, I, too, had been an ardent fan of that comic, but…
“It can’t be helped.”
Now, I had to stomp out the seeds before they could sprout. Before they grew stronger, before they became the Empire’s most dangerous enemy. I had to be the one to willingly slice their throats.
Thanks to the villain named Maximilian, the comic of the future would never be made.
*
The Empire’s power has many layers. The nobility, corporations, the Imperial family, the knights. Intertwined and entangled, they each form their own power dynamics.
The head of Mason Industries, a first-rate Imperial corporation, prided himself on being at the very top of that hierarchy, and everyone in the Empire thought so too.
“...In that case.”
The entrepreneur, who never showed his face, shrouded in a veil behind the scenes. The influential figure who had reigned as the apex of the western Empire for decades.
Mason Hector opened his mouth, his voice low.
“Have you caught the tail?”
The serial murders of his researchers. The string of terrorist attacks on his laboratories and factories, both within and outside the Empire. Plagued by such sabotage, Mason Industries had finally found a ‘trace’ by meticulously monitoring the last victim’s movements in advance.
“Yes. It was A-19.”
His secretary presented him with a document. Hector’s dark, shadowy eyes scanned it.
“The test subject… so it was alive.”
The photograph in the file showed the back of a young woman disappearing down a rain-slicked alley. Though her face was hidden, her unique mana wavelength and movements perfectly matched those of the ‘test subject.’
“However, it does not seem to be alone. We’ve found evidence of group activity, and they appear to have already built a reputation as mercenaries in the underground city.”
“Hmm.” A satisfied hum escaped Hector. “The test subject is proving its use, albeit late.”
“Yes, sir. It is.”
A test subject nurtured with Hector’s own funds at T24, a facility established with the support of the Imperial family. For them to return and seek out their old home—this was truly a beneficial turn of events.
“Mobilize ‘Falkenrat’ and retrieve it. They were our property from the start.”
“...As you command.”
Hector smiled. Finally, he had a gift to present to the Emperor of the Empire.
*
Thump— Thump— Thump-thump—
In a hideout somewhere in the underground city, a place vibrating with a club-like beat, five men and women who dreamed of revolution had gathered.
Thump— Thump— Thump-thump—
Elze stood before a cracked full-length mirror, impassively recalling the face of the researcher whose life she had just ended with her own hands.
People say the world is full of variety, but right before death, they’re all rather typical. The ones who laugh, the ones who cry, the ones who are serene, the ones who stiffen. That’s about it.
“Feels like shit…”
This time, it had been a laugher. A perverted bastard who enjoyed sadism and masochism. It felt like even death had been a gift to him, which was irritating for no good reason.
“Elze. What are you doing?”
Just then, Meden, the leader of the Outcasts, came over and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Thinking.”
They were all survivors of T24’s human experiments. Orphans, either without parents or sold off by them. At T24, they had been forcibly implanted with mana engines, injected with a mana fluid made from a mixture of beast blood and mana stones, and had mana circuits made of special materials inserted throughout their spines and muscles.
“Tell me what you’re thinking~”
Countless test subjects had died from the side effects, but they had survived and escaped that living hell.
“...They say Maximilian has taken our case.”
Elze swept her hair back, thinking of the Imperial big shot. She had never even seen his face properly, but the rumors of his infamy were no joke. The son of Zebestian, the Sword of the Empire.
It was true that they, who had overcome human experimentation, had gained bodies beyond the ordinary and an alien mana, but could they compare to a knight who had grown strong through natural means?
Meden smirked. “So?”
Elze frowned slightly. “...Aren't you scared?”
“Is there a reason to be? We just have to kill him.”
Meden patted Elze’s shoulder.
“I always tell you, right? We can win.”
Aspiration and fury now dwelled in his eyes.
“Maximilian or whoever else—we can bring down not just those lackeys of the Empire, but this whole damn country with our own hands.”
Having grown up in the gutters the Empire had abandoned, amidst its corruption and filth, they had become rebels who hated the Empire more than anyone.
“So.” Meden offered his hand to Elze. “For now, let’s just dance.”
“...You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Elze looked at him as if he were absurd, then took his hand.
Thump— Thump— Thump— Thump-thump-thump—
There, amidst the throbbing club beat, the two of them danced together.