Chapter 44: Drawing the Future with a Pen (3)
Chapter 44: Drawing the Future with a Pen (3)
A grand jury was convened for Knight Maximilian von Ebenholtz to determine whether his actions in the line of duty had been lawful.
Both before and after his knighthood, Maximilian had killed an Empire Point cadet and a murderer of a nobleman. The grand jury was being held long after the incidents had actually occurred, and even this was only possible after the case had been bounced around the Imperial Court before a decision was finally reached.
This was because no one dared to put an Ebenholtz before a grand jury.
"We will now begin the grand jury for Knight Maximilian," the judge announced.
As a rule, grand jury proceedings were closed to the public. In attendance were about twenty people: knights to judge the situation and evidence, prosecutors, and citizen jurors representing various walks of life. Aside from them, there was the presiding judge and two or three reporters from specifically designated media outlets.
Alphonse, the journalist, watched the scene from the press gallery.
"The primary items for review are the summary executions of the Empire Point cadet and the murderer of the nobleman. First, we will hear a statement from the knight himself."
Maximilian von Ebenholtz. With his blonde hair and golden eyes, he was the textbook definition of a pure-blooded Aran as described by the Empire. He stood, dressed in his formal Sentinel uniform.
At a glance, he looked like a living, breathing propaganda mannequin.
"Under Imperial law, those who murder nobility and those who infiltrate Empire Point under a false identity are both subjects for summary execution. Therefore, I judged that a trial was unnecessary."
That was how Maximilian defended himself.
The grand jury itself did not take long. After a few formal questions and answers, a unanimous verdict of 'Lawful' was handed down.
No one was willing to deliver a different verdict while looking at Maximilian’s face, and Alphonse, attending as a member of the press, had no right to speak.
"With that, this grand jury is adjourned."
Maximilian gave a slight nod and exited the courtroom.
Alphonse hurried after him.
"Excuse me!"
Click. He greeted him loudly while snapping a photo of his face with his camera. It was a deliberate provocation.
"I'm Alphonse, a reporter from the Zenith Times."
Maximilian furrowed his brow slightly, but soon smoothed it over with a relaxed smile.
"Yes. It’s a pleasure."
He didn't show hostility, nor did he respond with annoyance.
Is he curating his image? Alphonse wondered.
"Could I have a brief interview? Regarding the Jacob Mac and Sana incident."
"Sana?"
Maximilian tilted his head at the name 'Sana.'
"Ah, so the name of the noble-killer I executed back then was Sana."
Alphonse let out a hollow laugh.
"Ha. Do you not even remember the name of the child you killed, Sir Knight?"
"Is there a reason I should?"
Alphonse’s expression stiffened.
"...Do you even know what that child, Sana, was being subjected to?"
Sana had killed a noble. But she had no choice. That old man was a piece of human trash who didn't even deserve the title of nobility.
According to the police investigation, numerous signs of abuse were found at the residence of the self-proclaimed victim, and even his surviving family members were so ashamed that they hurried to cover up the case.
"If you didn't know, see for yourself."
Alphonse held out an envelope he had prepared. Maximilian opened it willingly. Inside were dozens of photographs.
"He was a pedophile. A truly vicious one."
The scenes were too depraved to even put into words. Maximilian flipped through the photos.
"Do you still believe there was no room for leniency?"
Maximilian’s eyebrow twitched once, then he nodded.
"Yes. It couldn't be helped."
"...It couldn't be helped?"
"Under Imperial law, a commoner who murders a noble is subject to summary judgment, regardless of the reason."
"Through a trial—"
"Even if she had received a trial, the result would have been the death penalty. Furthermore, the autopsy revealed this child was a sub-species. She wasn't an Imperial."
She wasn't an Imperial.
Alphonse glared at Maximilian. Maximilian met his gaze squarely and replied.
"Reporter Alphonse. I am aware that Ashton was human scum. If he hadn't died then..."
Maximilian took a step closer.
"I would have cut him down with my own hands."
He looked down at Alphonse with a steady gaze.
"However, the child killed a noble first, and what followed was a legal execution. So, do not lean too heavily on sentimentality."
Maximilian smiled thinly as he handed the envelope back.
"If you do, the world might just fall apart."
"...What?"
Alphonse felt an inexplicable chill at those cryptic words.
"I'll take my leave then."
Maximilian climbed into his car. Alphonse shouted at him as he prepared to drive away.
"—What about the two immigrants sentenced to death because of your external pressure?!"
He hurriedly pulled out the draft of the article he was going to publish today.
"The paper mill incident! A mother and daughter who don't even know the Imperial language, who were used by the Revolutionary Group without being members themselves, are about to be sent to the gallows! Why don't you see that this is exactly what those Revolutionary bastards want—!"
Vroooom!
Alphonse spat on the ground as he stared blankly at the rear bumper of Maximilian’s car as it sped away.
* * *
Money, money, money.
The profits were compounding.
The new facilities designed according to Lorenzo’s theories dramatically increased mana stone refining efficiency, and Armand’s waterwheel prototype was installed deep within the mine. To facilitate faster communication and transactions, a state-of-the-art information processing system was imported from the Kanilan Independent State.
"It's mana fluid! We've discovered mana fluid here as well!"
Mana veins were discovered one after another in nearby areas, and Dieter opened up new sales routes for mana stones, targeting magic towers and magi-engineering corporations across the Empire.
In this way, the company stabilized in an instant.
However, mana stones were synonymous with the establishment.
It wasn't just about owning the stones; the right to sell them was the same.
The magic towers and mages were always ready to buy mana stones, but the prices were strictly determined by a cartel.
The 'Mining Families' would likely make their move soon.
Whether they would be stronger or Ebenholtz would be stronger remained to be seen.
"Sir Knight!"
Armand came running out of the mine with an ecstatic face.
"Look at this!"
"What is it?"
Armand was wearing a mask. Originally, there were no safety masks for children, but since the boy practically lived in the mine, Lorenzo had custom-made one for him.
"I found it! I discovered something!"
"Tell me. What did you find?"
"If we mine mana stones the way we do now, they keep getting damaged too much! You know that, right?!"
"Damaged?"
"Yes! They get damaged because the circuits inside the mana stone get torn."
A mana stone is a natural object, like an ordinary rock, that has been permeated by mana over a long period, forming a kind of 'mana circuit.' Because of this, the circuits inevitably tear when mined with a pickaxe.
"What should be done to prevent the damage?"
"We have to change the pickaxe entirely!"
"The pickaxe?"
"Yep! Look!"
The pickaxes currently used in the mine were also specially manufactured inventions that used mana to break through rock.
"Current pickaxes just focus on crushing the mana stone with brute force."
"True."
Armand brought over a pickaxe he had invented.
"This is it! Its name is Kitty!"
"......"
It looked more like a club than a pickaxe. A fairly large, high-purity mana stone with a special treatment was bluntly embedded at the tip.
"If you hit the vein with this, it resonates with the mana circuits inside the stone. Then, instead of the 'vein' being forcibly severed, it vibrates and shakes itself free. Watch!"
Armand demonstrated by thumping a rock embedded with mana stones.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
"......Please hit it for me!"
He had been hitting it for a while and suddenly handed it to me, apparently exhausted.
I struck it hard.
Thwack!
The mana truly resonated, and the rocks crumbled. Just as Armand said, it looked as if the mana stone was 'shaking off' the surrounding rock on its own.
"It might take a bit more strength than a regular pickaxe, but..."
"And the price of the pickaxe will be much higher."
"......Yes. I suppose so."
Armand’s expression slumped slightly.
"Does the purity absolutely have to be at this level?"
"Yes... that's the only way to get a strong resonance."
The problem was that expensive, high-purity mana stones had to be used for every single club. One of these would easily cost $100,000, and it would be devastating if it broke.
I looked at Armand intently.
This child was a genius. Moreover, he was a genius who enjoyed his work. He was a natural-born scholar who loved the act of invention itself. Lorenzo hadn't taken him in for nothing.
"The idea is good, but..."
Although he wasn't a pure Aran, the manipulation of his identity was already proceeding smoothly.
In a few years, Armand would be a perfect Aran on paper.
"Wait, Armand. You said it uses the resonance phenomenon?"
"Yes."
"Then, how about this?"
"What?"
I gripped the handle of the Kitty.
"Incorporate mana stones into the handle as well and engrave circuits there. Even if you lower the purity a bit, you can add a formula that increases the volume to trigger a strong resonance."
I was an expert when it came to mana. At the very least, the virus inside me was.
Therefore, if I passed on the virus's intuition to Armand as a hint...
"Uh... Oh! Whoa! I think it'll work! I'll have to think about which circuit to use, but I'll—I'll think about it more!"
The rest was up to Armand.
The boy ran off somewhere with a bright smile.
I spoke to Dieter, who was beside me.
"Dieter. Proceed with the development of the new Kitt—the club, as Armand suggested. Have Mr. Lorenzo review it first."
"Yes, sir."
Armand was still young. To implement his genius more realistically, Lorenzo’s help was needed.
"And, we need to build an airport."
"I will look into a site in cooperation with Hermes State."
"Buy up as much land as possible. From now on, the defense industry is what matters. Planes, tanks. We're going to spend our earnings as soon as they come in."
"Yes, sir."
The Empire had to become strong. Much stronger than it was now.
Strong enough to handle two fronts in the east and west simultaneously—and even overwhelm them.
* * *
In my study, I was thinking about a new maneuver method for knights. I was personally writing a new doctrine to replace the outdated manuals.
Of course, I was still a mere rookie knight with zero years of experience, but it couldn't be helped. If I didn't do it, no one would try to change anything.
"Deploying knights on the ground is extremely inefficient. Concepts like marching or advancing are merely outdated remnants of the days when we rode horses."
Fortunately, The Reason the Empire Fell explained in great detail why the knights had failed.
Knighthood was a long-standing tradition of the Empire. Because of that, they always stood honorably at the very front of the lines. It was incredibly inefficient.
"However, once they remain on the battlefield, they inevitably become direct targets for all sorts of lethal weapons, including enemy guided missiles, artillery, and snipers. Therefore, knights should stay a step away from the front line, and during an engagement, they should drop directly from the air to strike key targets..."
It was much more efficient.
A knight was a human weapon in their own right. If deployed in the middle of enemy lines, they would grind through the defensive perimeter; if deployed in the rear, they would exert the destructive power of an entire unit alone.
The Empire had failed to properly utilize the most powerful weapon it possessed.
I thought as I wrote the manual.
I had to propose an airborne training course to Empire Point, and the Sentinel Knights needed to start airborne training immediately.
As for the cost... I could just pay for it.
I had plenty of money now. If we failed, it would all turn into scrap paper anyway. There was no need to be stingy.
I scribbled away until morning came.
The administrative officer delivered the weekly newspaper even earlier than yesterday and pointed to a rather interesting paragraph.
"Hmm."
It was a small social article tucked into a corner of the second page.
──Are We Being Toyed With by the Ghost of the Revolutionary Group?──
: Reporter Alphonse von Stauffen
The death sentences for the paper mill incident have been finalized. Daniel Mateo, who confessed to being a member of the Revolutionary Group, and two immigrants (Fatima Muller and Maria Schulz) will all be executed. In terms of punishing traitors who threatened the peace of the Empire, this might seem like a natural verdict.
However, we must ask: Is this verdict truly 'just'? If not, are we simply being swayed by the ghost of the Revolutionary Group?
Among those who stood in the defendant's dock were an immigrant mother and daughter who could not even properly speak the language of the Empire. Even at the moment their death sentences were announced, they merely stared at the courtroom with vacant eyes, as if they did not understand what it meant.
(Omitted)
Evidence that the immigrants participated in the revolution has not been made public. Whether it was not found or simply not disclosed is unknown, but the immigrant mother and daughter, who were used by the Revolutionary Group, now face the ultimate penalty of execution rather than deportation...
* * *
I smiled.
Alphonse von Stauffen. A reporter who could become a beacon in this dark world.
He had taken a small bite out of me.
No, I had allowed the media to take a bite of me.
I had expected this to some extent. They were a business that sold pens and sentences, but the lofty Zebestians and Ebenholtzs had looked down on the press for generations.
It seemed it was about time to open a deal with the media.