Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Uncontrollable Rumors
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If truth is a rigid solid, then rumors are a deceptive fluid.
The fact that Intelligence Department Minister Erwin Barrmut had collapsed was an undeniable truth in and of itself, but as the information passed from person to person, the original facts began to morph organically into something else.
"I heard the Iron Blood's health has finally failed?"
"They say he is currently suffering from a deadly, incurable illness."
"He doesn't have much time left upon this earth, apparently."
"Even a terrifying monster like him is merely human in the end..."
The rumors spread uncontrollably like a wildfire across a parched plain.
From the heart of the capital to the farthest reaches of the entire empire, and from there, they surged across the whole of the continent.
Naturally, the Imperial Intelligence Department immediately refuted the gossip and announced that the information was entirely false, but no one believed a word they said.
For one thing, the collapse itself was an undeniable fact that many had witnessed. And given that it was the enigmatic Erwin Barrmut, people figured he was hiding even his own suffering to avoid showing any trace of weakness to foreign powers.
Honestly, even the members of the Intelligence Department had to admit there was some grim logic to that theory.
To be blunt, even within the halls of the department, worries were starting to brew that perhaps Erwin really was ill with something grave.
If even his insiders felt that way, it was no wonder that outsiders would not buy the official denial for a moment.
Erwin's own parents and siblings did not believe the denials either.
Even the Emperor himself did not believe it.
"Revive the Intelligence Minister by any means necessary. If the Minister dies, you shall die along with him."
These were the stern and terrifying orders from His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Jilvester Acherus, directed at the trembling palace physicians.
Thanks to that, the physicians were put in a desperate bind, forced to treat a patient who had absolutely nothing wrong with him.
And then.
The Minister finally woke up.
I had caught a simple cold, slept it off for three days, and somehow woke up to an atmosphere as if I were standing on death's dark door.
No, the truth is I hadn't even slept the whole three days straight.
I had only slept in a bit longer on the first day after my initial collapse. From the second day on, I had gotten up normally, washed myself, ate well, and went about my private business.
I had already fully recovered the day before, but the caretakers insisted I rest for one more day, so I'd half-played along with a charade of fake illness.
But for some inexplicable reason, when I finally went to work, the vibe was that I was about to drop dead at any given second.
"Minister. Please lean on me. I will support your weight."
"There is no need for that."
"Urk...! If you insist, then at least take this cane. With this, no one will doubt you are still hale and hearty."
No need for that either. More importantly, why on earth would anyone doubt my health in the first place?
Why are you suddenly tearing up when I say I'm perfectly fine? Don't cry. Seeing you crying only makes me feel sad.
Like that, even on my usual commute, my escorts were making a massive, unnecessary fuss. But the real, unbridled chaos hit when I finally arrived at the Intelligence Department.
"...Ahem."
"Miiiiiiiiiinisteerrrrrr-! A-A-A-A-Are you truly alriiiiiight?!"
"A checkup! We need an immediate checkup! Checkup-checkup-checkup-checkup!"
"Bring every medicine we have in stock! Anything, just medicine, medicine, medicine!"
Are these people completely insane?
Ah, a correction. Not the right term for the esteemed palace physicians His Majesty sent out of deep concern for me.
But still, coughing a bit because a sip of coffee went down the wrong pipe didn't warrant this level of collective hysterics.
The palace physicians looked ready to stick to my side 24/7, so I half-forced them out, claiming they'd interfere with my official work.
Not that they'd actually interfere with my work. All I ever do is stamp documents anyway.
I just sent them away because their presence was utterly overwhelming.
But it wasn't just my escorts and the physicians bothering me—practically everyone in the entire world was at it now.
"Minister. I've placed a soft, therapeutic cushion on your chair. Please, use it."
I have no particular hobby of sitting on a pink heart-shaped cushion, so I chucked it back at the guy's face—he'd clearly bought the thing himself.
"Minister. I've replaced your hard, standard pen with these soft colored pencils. Please, take them."
Give me back my actual pen. Why are you pulling it out of your pocket with such a reluctant look? Were you planning to steal it?
"Minister. I got you coffee milk instead of black coffee—it will be far easier on your stomach. Please."
Please, I beg of you, just shut up. I happen to like sweet stuff, so I'll drink what you brought this time.
Anyway, without exaggerating much, it was complete pandemonium every time I so much as took a breath.
I'm not an idiot, and I have ears—I could easily tell they'd all convinced themselves I had some mysterious, fatal disease. But aren't you guys supposed to be the Intelligence Department?
What good is intelligence if you're all being swayed by such obvious and bad intel?
After kicking out everyone who was annoying me, I finally felt alone and relaxed, turning around—only to nearly faint again from the shock.
Celine was standing right there like a silent statue, staring at me with intensity.
"Why didn't you leave with the others?"
"Because I am your secretary, Minister."
That is not a valid reason, nor is it an answer to my question.
You've been working separately just fine until now—what's with this sudden and drastic change?
"Get out."
"You said you needed me. Was that a blatant lie?"
"It wasn't a lie."
"Then it is fine for me to stay."
It is not fine. I clearly and properly conveyed to you that I wasn't fine with this.
And yet, Celine had somehow already moved to her desk and sat right next to me, beginning her work.
Completely ignoring me, huh?
But in the midst of all this collective madness, her usual indifference was oddly comforting to me.
I really shouldn't find this situation comforting at all.
Wait a minute. Damn it, this means I can't slack off on my duties either?
I wanted to let out a heavy sigh, but I held back—Celine might make a huge fuss if I did so.
I didn't know how long this would last, but if it kept up, I might truly have to resign from the Minister post for real...
"............"
Wait. Is this actually my golden chance to retire?
If I play up the act of being sick, it won't disgrace the family name, and I can slip away naturally from public life.
I might even get a generous severance package. Combined with my savings, I could live pretty comfortably for the rest of my days.
Alright, I must strike while the iron's hot—I'll go see His Majesty right now and offer my resignation.
With my resolve firm, I stood up from my seat.
"This is our golden chance, Prime Minister!"
"We have to hit the Noble Faction hard while the Minister is too weak to wield his power!"
The Anti-Noble Faction gathered in one spot just before the daily morning audience council, deep in heated discussion.
The trigger for this was the rumored health decline of Intelligence Minister Erwin Barrmut.
The main argument was to press the Nobles hard while their key powerhouse was in a weakened state.
"Hmm."
Imperial Prime Minister Daniel Erickson stroked his goatee, lost in a labyrinth of thought.
It was definitely the perfect time to go on the offensive. They finally had ammunition to attack the Noble Faction.
Meanwhile, the enemy had lost more than half their perceived strength. There would be no better timing than this.
'But what's with this lingering bad feeling?'
There was no logical reason to get counterattacked, yet the ominous premonition lingered in his mind.
His finely tuned instincts were ringing loud alarm bells.
Stop the attack right now.
"Prime Minister!"
But he couldn't. Skipping this chance would mean losing it forever, and betraying the trust of his entire faction.
There were no real 'choices' left for him to make.
"...Very well. Today, we shall crush the Noble Faction."
With renewed determination, the Anti-Noble Faction filed out of the room together.
Led by the Prime Minister, they strode confidently toward the Emperor's audience chamber.
They lined up opposite the earlier-arrived Nobles, the council began, and Prime Minister Erickson launched his assault immediately.
"Your Majesty. Recently, I heard an unbelievable and shocking scandal. It concerns Marquis Monteanu's son raping a married woman. Right here in the heart of the capital!"
In any era, scandals were the most efficient way to tarnish an opponent's image.
The higher the target's status, the greater the effect—enough to shake an entire class if it was someone like a Marquis, a class representative.
"Prime Minister, that is a..."
"This is a blatant act of violence fueled by class privilege!"
Ignoring Marquis Monteanu's attempt at a calm rebuttal, Erickson continued railing to the Emperor about the nobility's brutality.
Of course, the Prime Minister and the Anti-Nobles weren't rejecting the structure of class society itself.
That would deny the Emperor's own position too, risking a charge of treason and a prompt beheading.
They targeted only the noble class. In other words, they dreamed of a world that was equal for all beneath the Emperor and the Imperial Family.
"Hmm."
Even so, it was uncomfortable for the Emperor to hear, but he couldn't blindly side with the nobles either.
He didn't need perfect fairness—that was impossible anyway—but he had to at least seem fair, or the delicate power balance would collapse.
Uneven power wasn't good for the Emperor in the long-term either, so he always aimed to keep both sides even.
"Your Majesty, I humbly beseech you to impose strict sanctions so this never happens again...!"
Erickson didn't think this alone would topple the nobility.
This was merely a stepping stone, a trigger—for far bigger blows later down the line. That was the real goal.
The nobles knew it too, so they were about to push back fiercely—
When the audience chamber doors suddenly swung open.
What the—there's an audience council going on right now?!
Due to the nature of my role, I don't usually attend these unless it's something major, so I'd completely forgotten the schedule.
I'm at fault for forgetting, but the attendant who heard I wanted an audience with His Majesty and just opened the door is problematic too.
Ah, Father's giving me that sharp 'what are you doing' look. I'm definitely going to get an earful later.
What do I do now?
I was debating whether to push forward with my plan when His Majesty suddenly called out to me.
"Perfect timing, Minister Barrmut. I want your opinion on something."
"My opinion, Your Majesty?"
"Yes. On Marquis Monteanu's son's alleged assault of a married woman. I assume you're aware of the matter?"
?
I had no idea why His Majesty brought that up, but first, I need to correct the official record.
"I'm aware of it, but it wasn't an assault."
"Minister, what do you—!"
"Silence. I'm asking the Minister of Intelligence now."
As Prime Minister Erickson reacted to my words, His Majesty silenced him with a word.
Whatever, not my business. I'll just explain quickly and then resign.
"Leonardo, the son of Marquis Monteanu, did indeed have relations with a woman, but it was a completely normal, consensual relationship."
"Ho? Then why is it rumored as a violent assault?"
Simple reason. It's much more sensational and entertaining that way.
"The woman Leonardo was seeing had legally separated from her husband last year. She reported his severe abuse to the knights, got him arrested, and obtained a divorce."
Her ex-husband got out of prison recently and tried to win her back—obsession or revenge, who knows—but she was already dating Leonardo.
"Their status difference made it a clandestine affair, but the truth is just that the ex-husband raided them during their private encounter."
"I see. And what happened to the ex-husband?"
What happened? Leonardo beat him half to death on the spot and he was carted away to the hospital.
After hearing it all, His Majesty suddenly asked me something very odd.
"Can you vouch for that story as the Intelligence Minister—as the absolute truth?"
"Pardon? Ah, yes, of course."
No clue why I need to vouch for the guy personally, but guaranteeing the truth won't hurt anything.
...Right? No backlash for me?