Chapter 191: Changing Days (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 191: Changing Days (1)
“—Captain Bernhard. Captain Adel.”
In the grand auditorium of the Imperial Command, the two officers stood on the stage to receive their plaques. Medals were pinned to their chests and draped around their necks. They stared blankly at the shining decorations and their new rank insignias.
“Continue to devote yourselves to the Empire and the military with a loyalty that spares neither flesh nor bone. As the flawless sword and shield of His Imperial Majesty, I expect you to advance without faltering, bearing nothing but pride…”
The ceremony was over before they could even gather their wits.
However, the two men could not return to the 7th Armored Grenadier Brigade in the East. Reassigning them was a measure taken for their own protection.
Still, they were soldiers of the Empire. Adel and Bernhard remained at Command for a short time, selected the borderlands for their new post, and received their assignment to the 2nd Eastern Border Defense Division.
“…Everything’s been a blur.”
One day, as the dust was finally settling, Adel and Bernhard met under an old tree in the rear garden of the Command headquarters.
“Hey. Adel.”
“…”
Adel looked at Bernhard without a word.
“From now on, you’re under me.”
“…Hah.” Adel let out a dry laugh, his face a picture of disbelief.
“Just half a rank below me. I helped you out this time, didn’t I? If things had gone wrong, you would’ve died in that solitary cell without a soul knowing. You hear me?” Bernhard said, puffing out his chest as he eagerly took the credit.
Adel just shook his head. “Fine by me.”
At his compliant answer, Bernhard’s expression shifted to one of cautious observation. He pulled a crumpled report from his pocket.
“…You seen this?”
It was the after-action report written following the purge. Of the 280 executed, an extremely high percentage had been identified as sub-species.
“I told you before. It’s always the ones with something to hide who get funny ideas.”
A man might commit corruption when blinded by greed. But encouraging that corruption and letting it spread like a plague was a problem on an entirely different level.
“To think these bastards were hiding in the regular army. This is no small matter. We Aranians have to stick together, you punk.”
“…Then you should stop being so lazy all the time. You dump all the paperwork on me, what the hell.”
“That’s why we need a division of labor.” Bernhard tapped his temple and grinned slyly. “I have a strategic sense. You know that.”
Second in his class for tactics and strategy. First place in the chess tournament. Those were, more or less, Bern’s defining achievements at the military academy.
“It consumes a massive amount of brainpower, so you can’t expect me to be physically diligent too. That’s why we have to combine your obsessive meticulousness with my genius.”
Bernhard slung an arm around Adel’s shoulder, his voice dropping into dead seriousness.
“Only then…”
Can we survive.
The blood-soaked fields of the East were still vivid in their memories. Maximilian’s face, his voice, even the casual gesture of his hand as he ordered the executions—it all felt as if it had happened only yesterday.
“Well. If we work hard, I’m sure things will work out somehow.”
Adel had survived. In his place, hundreds of other soldiers had died.
Eaton Weiss. Once a renowned commander in the East, he was now a man who no longer existed, and the entire Weiss family had been cast into the abyss. All by the hand of a single person.
Just then.
“Captain Adel. Captain Bernhard.”
A messenger officer from Command suddenly approached, saluted sharply, and handed them a sealed document envelope.
“News of your promotions, sirs.”
“…Promotions?”
“Yes, sir.”
Adel and Bernhard looked at each other in shock. It hadn’t even been a few weeks since their last promotion.
“The official commissioning ceremony will be in two months.”
Was it because their contributions to rooting out the corruption in the East had been recognized? Or was it because the large-scale purge had created a massive personnel shortage on the eastern front?
Or perhaps, was it thanks to a word from a certain ‘someone’?
“Furthermore, I was ordered to deliver a message from him: ‘I am watching.’ Congratulations. For the Empire.”
The messenger departed.
His parting words made it terrifyingly clear to whom they owed this promotion. Perhaps it was to be expected. An exceptional two-rank promotion—jumping from Lieutenant to Major in such a short span—was a near-impossible feat for an ordinary soldier.
“…”
“‘I am watching’...”
The two men could only stare at the promotion envelope with dazed expressions.
Whoosh.
The wind blew past, rustling their hair.
*
War was not far off. At most, four or five years remained.
Lately, that reality felt palpable against my skin. There was so much to perceive just by taking a light walk through the streets of the Empire.
「No Sub-species Allowed」
「Izenheim and Merin Strictly Prohibited!」
Blatant signs hung in the windows of nearly every shop.
“Those Merin bastards, they’re thieves to the bone, I tell you.”
“Never gamble with those sons of bitches. They’ll cheat you, guaranteed.”
The language of indiscriminate hatred and contempt echoed on every street corner.
“Hey! I hear your mom’s an Izenheim!”
The jeering shouts of children throwing stones at a cornered boy at the mouth of an alleyway rang out.
It was a natural self-purification process, a phenomenon beneficial to humanity, and yet…
“You filthy monster! Get away!”
I paused in my steps, a question suddenly forming in my mind.
That child was not an Izenheim. And yet, despite not being one, he was being viciously insulted with the claim that his mother was. If the children’s words were true, did an Izenheim adopt a non-Izenheim child to disguise herself?
It was entirely possible. At the same time, it was unavoidable.
The sacrifice of the few for the many. As long as the greater good was the ‘survival of the world,’ we could not afford to be particular about the means.
…Mulling over such thoughts, I arrived at my destination.
I stood in front of a cathedral in District 19. A considerable number of armed police officers were already lined up outside.
“For the Empire!”
The police chief rushed over and saluted. I entered the cathedral without a word.
The interior was a ruinous sight. The hall was wrecked in several places, bearing the violent marks of the police raid. The nuns were huddled in a corner, terrified, while in the center, a group of ragged figures were bound tightly. They were covered in blood, looking as if they had been given a severe beating.
“Sir Knight, I will first brief you on the incident! We received a report that this cathedral was illegally harboring unidentified vagrants and sub-species!” the chief reported with a triumphant expression.
I slowly surveyed the faces of those kneeling on the floor. A man with a severed leg leaning on a crutch. A man whose face was half-disfigured by severe burns. A blind woman missing an arm.
Every one of them were people pushed to the absolute edge of life.
“…”
My heart was calm as I gazed upon them. There was not a single Izenheim among them.
“Furthermore, all of the nuns here! They claim to have no genealogies! All of them, sir! Every single one!” The chief pointed an accusing finger at the nuns. “They must be subversive elements colluding with the revolutionary groups, or they’re sub-species themselves!”
The police officers were thoroughly excited, likely salivating over potential commendations.
“That’s not true!” A young nun, unable to bear it any longer, cried out tearfully. “We are Aranians, born and raised in the Empire! And these people are just poor souls with nowhere else to go!”
“Is she mad?! How dare she run her mouth in front of a Knight!”
The moment one of the officers raised his baton to strike, a man stepped forward to shield the nuns. Soft footsteps awakened the heavy air in the cathedral.
“…My apologies.”
An old priest, the guardian of this dilapidated cathedral, bowed his head. His voice was quiet.
“…”
I studied his face for a moment. I knew him. He was one of the few people who could revive my memories from before my regression. In fact, the only reason I had bothered to come here at all was because of this priest.
“However, Sir Knight.”
In the past. That past which still existed vividly in my memory. He was the man who had hidden the fugitive known as Maximilian Ebenholtz.
“We have committed no crime.”
He looked directly at me. I met his gaze and spoke.
“By the Imperial Citizenship Act, the operation of and all activities within religious facilities in the Empire are stipulated to be possible only for pure Aranians.”
Gulp. The police officers beside me tensed up for no reason, and the chief took a subtle step back.
The priest answered calmly. “We are Aranians, born and raised here.”
“There’s no proof! No proof! How dare you pretend to be Aranian when you don’t even have a genealogy!” The same officer from before shouted, his face flushing red. “Look, Sir Knight! Look at the state of them. Every last one is a cripple with severed limbs. They must be rebels who got injured and ran away! And to hide such people—”
“Officer.”
“Uh, yes! Sir Knight!”
“You talk too much.”
At my single remark, his mouth froze, hanging open like a dying fish.
“Talk less from now on.”
“…”
“Go outside and wait.”
“…!”
The officer scurried out of the cathedral without another word. The other police officers hurriedly followed suit. Now, only I, the priest, the terrified nuns, and the sick remained inside.
“Hmm.”
I sat on a wooden pew. Creak. These wooden planks, which had creaked in the past, still sounded like some kind of broken pulley.
“Father.”
“Yes. I am Ast.”
“Father Ast. What happened to the genealogies?”
At my question, Father Ast lowered his head with a bitter expression.
“…They were lost.”
The meaning behind that answer. The circumstances contained within the word ‘lost.’ And the Izenheim who were conspicuously absent.
I understood his words immediately.
“Someone stole them and fled.”
“No. They were lost.”
I could roughly guess what had happened. Since the implementation of the Imperial Citizenship Act, an original genealogy proving pure Aranian blood had become incredibly valuable. It was far safer and more popular to steal a real Aranian’s genealogy, erase the ink, and write in a new name to launder one’s identity than to create a clumsy forgery.
“In that case, you ultimately have no genealogy?”
The priest closed his mouth.
“…”
I watched him for a long time. In the silence, the sound of the nuns’ muffled weeping flowed through the hall. The priest’s complexion darkened to an ashen gray.
Again, I offered a faint smile.
“Why do you look so serious?”
This was a place that could maintain some semblance of gentleness, even as the Empire was being stained by unavoidable contempt and discrimination.
“I understand.”
I looked around at the sick people bound on the floor. Most had pale blond hair and golden eyes.
“There are times when one needs the solace of religion.”
They might have a little blood from a race other than Aranian mixed in, but at the very least, they were not Izenheim. If so, there was no reason for me to dirty my hands.
“Father Ast.” I rose from my seat and approached the priest. “I will accept your claim that the genealogies were stolen.”
I looked into the eyes of the priest, whose face was much younger than the wrinkled visage I remembered from before my regression.
“If you have been born and raised here for generations, you should be able to receive testimony from those around you.”
Testimony held sufficient power as evidence.
“Furthermore, these people you have taken in, Father Ast.” I pointed a finger at the bound figures. The priest’s shoulders tensed. “They may not be pure Aranians, of course, but those who are merely receiving service and relief are not subject to the Imperial Citizenship Act.”
In other words, they were not guilty.
The priest let out a shaking sigh of relief, and I quietly turned away from him.
“…However. You must protect what is important yourself.”
Opening the cathedral door, I added softly over my shoulder.
“If you cannot.”
Someday, you will be unable to protect the things you truly hold dear.
At my words, the priest quietly closed his eyes. He gave a slight nod, expressing a small measure of gratitude.
Creeak.
As I stepped outside the cathedral, I felt a familiar gaze observing me.
Filty. Just like always, she was watching me from the shadows.
*
“…We are sorry!”
Outside the cathedral, in a deserted alley, the chief and his officers were prostrated on the pavement, their foreheads pressed to the ground.
For the record, I hadn't ordered them to do any such thing.
“There is nothing to be sorry for. You were simply working diligently for the security of the Empire,” I said, looking down on them. “However, accuracy is paramount in an investigation. What would happen if you were to rashly label that priest and those nuns as sub-species and close the case carelessly?”
The officers’ shoulders flinched.
“Those vermin-like sub-species criminals who stole their genealogies would instead be transformed into true Aranians under the lawful protection of the Empire.”
“We’re sorry! We’re sorry!” the police officers repeated in a panic.
“Rise.”
I impassively scanned the faces of the officers as they awkwardly scrambled to their feet. There were no Izenheim among them, either.
Was today a lucky day? Or, on the contrary, was it an unlucky one?
For these police officers, it was undoubtedly a ‘very’ lucky day.
“From now on, track down whoever reported this cathedral. First, their genealogies are stolen, and then they are suddenly reported to the authorities. It’s far too strange a coincidence.”
“O-of course, Sir Knight! We will do so!” the chief answered vigorously.
I gave a nod to the aide standing beside me. The aide pulled a thick envelope of cash from his coat.
“…Everyone. This is a bonus from Sir Knight Maximilian to the security forces for their hard work. It is a reward for your passion, so please take one envelope each.”
The officers’ expressions wavered. They glanced at each other before hesitantly lining up in front of the aide.
“Chief, you first.”
“…Ah. Yes. Thank you.”
“Alright, next. Don’t covet what belongs to others. The amount is the same for everyone.”
As I have said time and again, the charge of bribery does not apply to an Imperial Knight. It is simply part of my duties as a watcher.
“…Oh!”
“Hah!”
The officers, who had accepted the envelopes in a daze, broke into grins that split their faces from ear to ear upon checking the amount, bowing repeatedly.
I turned to get into my car.
“—Extra! Extra!”
Suddenly, a newsboy ran down the street from a distance, shouting at the top of his lungs.
Fwip. Fwip. Fwip.
I caught one of the newspapers as they fluttered through the air. The headline was printed in thick, red ink.
[ Valkania Declares Surprise War! ]
“Valkania…”
Valkania was a peninsular nation jutting out from the southwestern part of the Empire. Its territory was quite large, and its geography made it a vital strategic point. To the north of the peninsula, it shared borders with Zerpa and the Progen Republic in the West, and to the east, it bordered the Empire’s Genen Autonomous Region and the Eastern Union’s Volska. It was, in a manner of speaking, the ‘throat’ of the continent.
“Extra! Valkania has invaded Mekerel! Extra!”
Valkania had started a war completely out of the blue. Their target was the southernmost tip of the continent. That is, ‘Mekerel,’ a tribal federation that had established an independent state on land far, far south of the southern Empire.
Their pretext was absurd—some dusty historical claim that the two regions had been unified under a single dynasty five hundred years ago.
“…What is this now.”
“Where’s Mekerel?”
The people of the Empire seemed to have little interest, but this was an event that would violently shake the continental situation.
From now on, the great powers of the Western Union, like Progen and Italic, would fiercely condemn Valkania, issue daily statements defining them as illegal aggressors, and pass resolutions for strong sanctions. Even Robrus in the East, currently chaotic from its internal purges, would likely get a piece of the action.
[Robrus Secretary General Varmil Strongly Condemns, ‘Valkania’s Barbaric Military Atrocities Must Be Stopped Immediately!’]
Something exactly like that.
So, what stance did the Empire take before my regression?
When the entire international community scorned Valkania as an aggressor, the Emperor of the Empire bet on the exact opposite. He extended a hand to the diplomatically isolated Valkania and later even forged a military alliance with them.
—It was the worst possible choice for the Empire.
Of course, the Empire would have fallen even without Valkania, but the continent’s military strategists evaluated the Valkania-Imperial alliance thusly:
‘It takes a mere three divisions for the Empire to crush Valkania. However, if they are an ally of the Empire, it requires more than ten times that force just to defend Valkania’s borders from the enemies swarming in.’
Simply put, they were a nation far too incompetent to have as an ally. The moment an alliance was formed, Valkania would become the worst possible burden, a dead weight that would endlessly suck away the Empire’s resources until there was nothing left.
“…Tsk.”
I crumpled the newspaper and threw it out the car window.
This, too, was unavoidable.
From now on, I had to use any and all means to shatter that future.