Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: The Grand Marshal's Privilege
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Empire Prime Minister Daniel Erickson felt a sickening gut instinct that the absolute worst-case scenario had finally come to fruition.
"This is an impossibility! Grand Marshal! He was appointed Grand Marshal?!"
Of course, he begrudgingly acknowledged the Intelligence Minister's monumental achievements in the recent crisis.
He had successfully saved the lives of the imperial prince and princess, and beyond that, preserved the lives of the future elite who would one day shoulder the empire's destiny, as well as the esteemed educators who nurtured those talents.
Had the Capital School—a primary educational symbol of the empire's prestige—collapsed, it would have posed a grave and existential threat to national security, sparking a cascade of internal and external disasters.
Among the Capital School's student body was a child of his own kin, a relative dear to the Prime Minister’s heart.
Personally, he felt such profound gratitude that he harbored a desire to bow before the Minister in sincere thanks.
But no matter how legendary the feats performed, the rank of Grand Marshal was an excessive elevation.
"Even with the title of Grand Marshal, will it truly make such a vast difference from his previous standing? The Intelligence Minister already commanded a terrifying array of privileges. Surely killing or surveilling a target won't change fundamentally, right?"
Hearing his subordinate's naive words, the Prime Minister let out a long, heavy sigh of lamentation.
The argument sounded plausible at a shallow glance, so instead of snapping in frustration, Erickson decided to provide a proper explanation.
"The unique privileges of a Grand Marshal are completely and fundamentally different in nature from those the Minister held as the head of Intelligence."
The position of Intelligence Minister naturally carried various heavy privileges, but they were always exercised under one absolute and crushing constraint.
That singular constraint dictated that privileges could only be utilized against those designated as the "empire's enemies."
"But a Grand Marshal is cut from a different cloth entirely. Fundamentally, the Grand Marshal stands high above the reaches of the law, mirroring the divine authority of His Majesty the Emperor. Except for acts of open rebellion or direct attacks on His Majesty and the imperial family, they face no legal punishment for any action they take."
To be entirely precise, there existed no soul in the empire who possessed the authority to punish them.
Imperial law strictly forbade even the act of raising a formal objection to the Grand Marshal's specific actions or personal conduct.
"To put it in extreme terms: even if the Minister mobilized his Intelligence agents this very second to slaughter every person in this room, no legal crime would be established."
"Well, that is indeed..."
Seeing his subordinate still failing to grasp the gravity of the situation, Erickson's patience finally reached its breaking limit.
"Do you not understand the horror of it yet?! The Minister is no longer restricted to swinging his lethal blade only at the empire's enemies! Now, he is empowered to swing it at anyone he desires without consequence!"
Every soul except for the Emperor and the immediate imperial family was now considered fair game for his wrath.
The title itself served as a proclamation that he was now second only to the Emperor in the hierarchy of power.
Even the members of the imperial family were not fully free under the weight of imperial law, barring a few specific privileges—making the Grand Marshal truly the empire's absolute number two.
The title meant exactly what its ancient words implied: one who stands above all others save for the Emperor.
Several faces in the room turned a ghostly pale as the realization of this power finally dawned on them late.
"What kind of insane and terrifying title is that..."
"Hah, yes. It is insane indeed. That is precisely why, in the empire's vast and long history, only one other person has ever received the Grand Marshal title."
That singular individual was Albert Macaira, the founding hero and an unparalleled legend who aided the very first Emperor in establishing this empire.
Even in that case, the title was created posthumously by the first Emperor to honor his fallen comrade—meaning Erwin Barrmut could technically be called the first true, living Grand Marshal.
"This isn't merely giving wings to a predatory tiger—the reality is far worse than that, isn't it?"
"We must immediately petition His Majesty to revoke the Grand Marshal title before it's too late!"
Needless to say, the very moment Erickson had heard the news, he had rushed to the Emperor's side to protest that granting such a title was an excessive move.
The Emperor had offered a blunt and final reply:
"I have no intention of revoking the title," he had declared with iron firmness. "And I shall ensure that anyone who continues to protest this decision loses their head."
The chorus of noisy complainers fell into an instant and terrified silence.
There were no diplomatic euphemisms used—the Emperor had issued a straight-up and lethal threat of execution. The title was set in immovable stone.
No one dared to speak another word lest their head actually roll across the palace floor.
The long, suffocating silence that followed was eventually broken by someone's cautious and quiet question.
"...Is there not something fundamentally suspicious about this entire incident?"
"Suspicious in what way?"
"Think about the details. If the Minister had stopped the terror plot by surveilling dangerous individuals as he usually does, it would make sense—but there are far too many questionable points in both the process and the ultimate outcome."
That observation was undeniably true.
Even the official narrative of the Minister thwarting the terror attack contained odd and gaping gaps.
"According to the perpetrator's own statement, the Minister passed right through a lethal barrier that used hydra poison as its medium."
"Multiple witnesses clearly heard a massive explosion from within the grounds, yet he dismissed the entire thing as a mere dud."
"Despite the presence of clear and visible signs that something of great magnitude had exploded."
"And His Majesty granting the Grand Marshal title as if he had been waiting for the perfect excuse... The situation is full of mysteries."
The Prime Minister sensed the jarring incongruity in his subordinates' accounts of the event.
His narrow focus on the Grand Marshal title itself had blinded him temporarily, but this was not the Minister's usual, subtle style.
'Considering the Minister's meticulous past actions, the fact that such basic questions arise at all is deeply suspicious. Would that perfectionist man truly make a mistake that invites such doubt?'
Or perhaps there were unavoidable and secret circumstances forcing his hand, even if it meant drawing public suspicion toward him?
For instance, perhaps he had predicted the terror attack but felt compelled to intervene personally for some hidden reason.
"Anyway, I want everyone to keep a low profile and stay out of his sight for a while."
Those present in the room nodded in unison at the Prime Minister's wise words.
After devouring the delicious lunch Celine had packed and sitting there in a quiet daze, I reset my field of vision and stood up from my seat.
I had never told a soul, but as a young kid, I had secretly dreamed of becoming a famous adventurer.
I longed for the freedom of roaming majestic mountains, vast seas, and ancient dungeons with nothing but a sword, captivated by those heroic tales.
I abandoned that dream the very moment I realized I possessed zero natural talent for such a life, though.
Now I am just a jaded, incompetent man soaked in the drudgery of daily life, but even I possessed shining dreams back in those days.
Most people forget them amid the harsh bite of reality, but sometimes those old dreams resurface in the subconscious—much like right now.
"Minister?"
Celine asked where I was heading, as if it were odd for someone with work to do after lunch to simply wander off.
I blurted out an absurd and improvised excuse to her.
"I am heading to the Adventurer's Guild to conduct a formal investigation."
It was a crude excuse for skipping out on work, but Celine—being either uninterested or entirely unconcerned—did not pry further into my business.
"Understood. Then please take the members of Owl with you for protection."
That had been my secret plan from the very start of this thought.
For someone with near-zero combat ability like myself, entering a dangerous dungeon alone was essentially an act of suicide.
John had been dungeon-diving frequently lately, so asking him to accompany me was a simple task.
I gathered all available Owl members except for Alexander (who was away on a mission), plus any agents who were currently idle.
Why so many? Because I am terrified of dungeons!
Okay, I genuinely want to go, but this is officially my first actual dungeon crawl.
It is pathetic, I know, but I could feel my legs trembling in secret fear.
Still, wanting to experience the thrill just once, I dragged my capable subordinates along for the ride.
I know my request is a significant bother to them.
But my men are all exceptionally strong and capable, so surely everything will be fine.
I truly hope so.
Probably.
"Minister, that is not the correct direction for the local dungeons."
"We are visiting the Adventurer's Guild headquarters first."
I cannot officially become an adventurer—not just because I am weak, but as a high-ranking imperial government official.
Imperial officials are strictly forbidden from moonlighting in other professions.
Furthermore, non-adventurers are legally barred from entering any dungeons.
There are no exceptions to this law—no matter who you are or what the reason—getting caught means serious trouble.
Specifically, the maximum penalty for such a transgression is immediate execution.
All dungeons are considered the sovereign property of the imperial throne. They do not seize your loot, but adventurers must pay taxes based on their specific earnings.
Adventurers are required to report all acquisitions to the guild; illegal entrants cannot do this, so the law preemptively blocks them.
Thus, to enter a dungeon legally, I must first obtain specific permission from the guildmaster himself.
I won't be punished without it, given my rank, but basic courtesy demands the gesture.
Hmm. That bald guy in charge is quite intimidating. Will he try to beat me up for giving "sightseeing" as my official reason?
Pondering various excuses, I finally entered the busy guild hall.
Everyone looked significantly busier than they had the last time I visited.
I feel a bit bad about this now.
Should I just turn around and leave?
"M-Minister!? H-How are you here already?!"
I stood there quietly, not wanting to bother the busy folk, when the bald guildmaster spotted me and rushed over with a frantic energy.
His name: Zig Braun.
He was a legendary ex-S-rank adventurer famed across the lands as [Blood Axe].
...Correction: he was a very bald ex-S-rank adventurer.
He was still a huge and imposing man. He was currently sweating like a waterfall, which was probably why he looked so distressed.
"W-Wait! Please, I beg you! Even if I have to go into the depths myself, I will take full responsibility and find him!"
Find what exactly?
Befuddled by his sudden and desperate plea, I simply stared—then he suddenly dropped to his knees before me.
What the hell is happening?
"I stake my name—no, I stake my entire title as a guarantee! Professor Barrmut is surely safe and unharmed! So...!"
Barrmut.
Did he say Professor Barrmut?
Eh?
Does he mean Karl?
Groaning that the entire situation had gone utterly and catastrophically awry, Guildmaster Braun slammed his head down to the hard floor.
His professional dignity could be damned at a time like this.
He had accidentally pissed off the one specific person you never, ever anger in this entire world.
Whether it was the Guild or not, everything he built could vanish in a single moment—his reputation mattered very little now.
Honestly, even if he did care about his face, the result would be exactly the same.
'What an absolute crushing pressure!'
He had been long retired, but he was still a formidable ex-S-rank adventurer.
Even he felt completely overwhelmed by the Minister and his owl-masked entourage's dark and heavy auras.
The ones standing behind the Minister were clearly no ordinary individuals either.
'This is the true, terrifying might of the empire's Intelligence Department...!'
If even he buckled under this weight, the other adventurers—let alone the civilian staff—simply could not endure it.
He pictured them all trembling in fear, barely able to draw a single breath.
"Where exactly is Karl?"
"That is..."
"Guildmaster Braun. I am asking you once more where my brother is."
The atmospheric pressure in the room intensified to a painful degree.
Somehow enduring the heart-squeezing terror of the moment, Braun named the specific dungeon Professor Barrmut had headed toward before vanishing from contact.
"He is probably at the Temple of the Salt God..."
The crushing pressure vanished from the hall instantly.
Confirming the Minister's departing footsteps, Braun cautiously and slowly lifted his head from the floor.
It felt as though ten full years had just been shaved off his lifespan.
"G-Guildmaster. Is it truly okay just sending the Minister off like that? If problems arise later down the line..."
Braun rose to his feet, chuckling heartily at his worried subordinate's concern about a potential cover-up.
"That is entirely unnecessary worry on your part. His actions will not cause us any legal issues."
"I beg your pardon? But how...?"
"Have you already forgotten? He is the Grand Marshal now. Whether he leads the entire Intelligence Department into the dungeon or slaughters every monster and adventurer found there, there is no legal problem."
Wondering if that legendary title was truly intended for times like this, Braun shook off the lingering thought.
Who cares about the fate of the monsters? There were much bigger real-world worries to consider.
'I must prepare for the absolute worst case.'
In the event that Karl Barrmut was not found safe, Braun decided that his first course of action would be to write his final will.