If You Can't Handle It, You're Weak!

If you can't handle it—then you are the weak one.

To cut straight to the result: the Western Kingdom Alliance's plan was a catastrophic failure.

They had aimed at the Imperial Academy, at the Empire's most powerful noble houses, even at the Imperial Capital itself—targets that, had they succeeded, would have inflicted staggering damage. They failed at every single one.

In the Imperial Capital, most of the infiltrators were discovered mid-infiltration and disposed of on the spot. The handful who slipped through were subdued by knights before they could so much as act. It became yet another reminder of why the Empire was the Empire.

The suicide squads sent against the great houses fared little better. Unlike at the Capital, they were not all caught in advance—but the assassinations they had planned never came to pass. A few of them charged in with fanatical resolve and blew themselves up, dealing some damage, but it was vanishingly minor.

The place that could have suffered most was the Imperial Academy.

Compared to the others, its garrison was thinner and its readiness lower—that much was true. And with so many scions and young ladies of the noble houses gathered in one place, the attackers could have sown chaos, perhaps even eroded those families' loyalty to the Empire through sheer terror.

"Hooo…"

Recalling once more just how dangerous this incident had been, the Minister of Education let out a long sigh of pure relief.

If things had gone the way those bastards wanted, he would never have kept his post. No—forget the post. He might not even have kept his life once the blame came down. Oversight of the Academy fell under the Ministry of Education; if a gap had been exposed, bearing responsibility was only natural.

But the Minister of Education neither took the fall nor packed up his desk. He was simply holding a magic-communication conference with the Minister of War, who was currently out on external deployment—and that was the end of it. As a bonus, he had even received a light word of praise from the Emperor for admitting Kyle John Nassen in the first place.

In truth, between the Margrave's authority and the Emperor's own guarantee, he had never dared raise an objection—but what of it?

At the Minister of War's words, the Minister of Education nodded several times.

There had been wounded, yes—but every last one of them was a knight or soldier defending the Academy. Under normal circumstances the damage should have been far worse. One young man had simply… tidied the whole mess away.

Never thought a John Nassen would help us like this.

If Kyle had not been there—at that hour, in that place—what would have become of them? Even if the intruders had eventually all been killed or subdued, the toll would have been enormous. Unlike the Imperial Capital, with its airtight defenses, or the great houses crawling with knights, once you got past the Academy's outer perimeter you found nothing but unarmed students. That was all.

And Yulika, who had fought alongside Kyle, had only been at the Academy because of him. Had his admission been rejected, not only Kyle but Yulika herself would never have been there.

Running the hypothetical through his mind, the Minister of Education felt a cold sweat break out on its own.

"Have you heard from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs?"

"…Fair enough."

While the Ministry of Education sat in eerie quiet, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had been struck by something close to a natural disaster. They had been in constant contact with the Alliance, gathering scraps of intelligence—only for the Empire to be hit by surprise attacks from that same Alliance all across its territory. Of course their feet were on fire.

Rumor had it the Minister of Foreign Affairs had gone vacant-eyed and was doing nothing but mutter curses under his breath. One thing was certain: he would not be wriggling free of responsibility for this.

The Litorio Grand Duchy must be in a thoroughly awkward position as well.

The Empire's three Grand Duchies each specialized in a different sphere—diplomacy, military affairs, and finance. Litorio was the one that shone in diplomacy; not only did it produce a host of diplomats, but the Minister of Foreign Affairs himself was a Litorio man.

They had believed that something on the level of the Western Kingdom Alliance could be brought to heel with Imperial diplomacy alone. Instead, the Alliance had smiled to their faces while preparing a dagger of pure horror behind their backs. For a house that had always preached diplomacy first, this was a bolt from the blue.

"How are things on your end?"

A thorough investigation after the fact had confirmed that the attackers had come from the Alliance. Of late they had been strangely quiet; people had begun to think they were finally bowing their heads to the Empire. In truth, they had been cooking up something this cowardly—and this savage.

Once it came to this, what remained was a conversation conducted in iron and blood.

What came after that, no one could say. Only the gods would decide who was in the right. In a world where the survivors were the strong, that was all that would be left.

"More than that, though—it's monstrous. Forcing mana-burst like that. Even those lunatic theoretical mages banned research on the stuff for being too horrifying, didn't they?"

"But the effect itself is supposed to be real, isn't it? Short-lived, but enormous power."

At the Minister of Education's words, a low hum came through the magic communication orb from the Minister of War.

"What could possibly drive them to break taboos and come at us this way?"

Among the most important things in the world was something called justification.

Even with overwhelming power, the Empire had never wiped the Kingdom Alliance from the map for exactly that reason. Glory built on blood never lasted long—they knew that well. And so, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all this time, they had conducted their campaigns of conquest only with a suitably solid casus belli in hand.

This time, though, the Alliance had grown too impatient. Looking at how they had even thrown away the very justification that had protected them, they were clearly no longer in their right minds.

With this, every last voice inside the Empire that had opposed war had gone silent. Thirty years of living day to day under constant tension was one thing—but they had crossed the line far too hard.

"If you're so curious, go ask him yourself."

At the Minister of War's reply, the Minister of Education answered, I'm scared too.

The physical damage may not have been great, but the Empire's prestige had taken a scratch. How much rage the master of that Empire was nursing in that situation was all too easy to imagine.

With this, the Empire that has kept silent for so long will start moving again.

How much blood would flow? The Minister of Education thought it, then quickly shook his head. Whether war broke out and the matter was settled by force, or the kingdoms were talked down to a surrender table—it was none of his concern. All he had to do was prepare the Empire's talents.

The Empire's wrath—the Emperor's wrath—would be those people's problem to bear. He needed only to focus on his own work.

And among those duties was offering thanks to the young man and woman who had distinguished themselves in the Academy incident.

"…The world really is full of things you never see coming."

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that the Academy, the Ministry of Education staff, and even the Ministry of Finance—spared yet another round of Academy reconstruction costs—would be delivering their gratitude to someone from House John Nassen like this.

Meanwhile, contrary to the two ministers' fretting, the Emperor was remarkably composed.

Even in the face of the Alliance kingdoms' unspeakable act of deceiving the Empire and hurling a dagger into its back.

Not long ago, the Ministry of Special Affairs had secured a piece of top-secret intelligence. The exact nature of the movement was unclear—but one thing was certain: a dagger was pointed at the Empire.

They could have torn the Empire upside down hunting for it. The Emperor chose not to. He issued only a secret order to harden the Capital's defenses still further.

What the Emperor sought was plain. The resumption of the conquest campaigns. For years they had stockpiled strength, stacking everything carefully into place; now was the time to unleash it. He intended to settle the West in his own generation, not leave it for his successors.

The only problem had been a lack of justification for launching such a vast undertaking. For that very reason, the Emperor had quietly looked the other way as the Alliance made its moves. He regarded the necessary sacrifices as inevitable for the sake of a casus belli, and simply watched.

In the end, unable to contain their impatience, those people had moved—and finally made a mess of things.

Targeting the Imperial Capital and the great noble houses was bad enough. But they had handed him something even larger, even more effective: a target that would ignite the fury of the entire Empire. They had aimed at the Academy, where so many unarmed people were gathered.

He had been concerned when reports suggested the situation might prove more serious than expected. After that, though, a rather interesting piece of news arrived from the Academy.

The second son of John Nassen distinguished himself defending the Academy?

It was a completely different picture from his elder sister half-destroying the place. He had even handled the matter so discreetly that, early on, public attention had fixed on Yulika instead. Thanks to that, the Imperial Family had been able to present itself to the people as the ones who stood at the front and fought the enemy with glory.

Just when you think you understand the world…

They said time changed many things. He had never expected a type that actually wanted to blend into society to emerge from that House of John Nassen.

Thinking that far, his daughter's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠marriage plan looked more appealing than ever.

What path brought the greatest benefit to the Empire—to the Imperial Family?

Today, as every day, the Emperor turned that question over in his mind as he slowly began to draft the plan for absorbing the West. And beyond that—perhaps they could settle the remaining southern forces and the East as well. Perhaps the day would finally come when the entire continent lay under their rule. Such were the thoughts that occupied him.