Into the Imperial Palace
At the summit of the Ministry of Military Affairs within the Imperial Palace.
The Ministry of Military Affairs—the command tower of the Imperial Army.
It was an office whose cold marble walls were lined with the complete records of every military operation the empire had ever conducted.
Whoosh!
A draft slipping through the slightly open window stirred the papers on the desk.
The man reviewing documents by the light of a lamp raised his head.
White skin, a face free of wrinkles. He possessed a refined, restrained beauty and a gaze that was subtly overbearing.
Golden epaulets rested on his shoulders. Dark brown hair combed neatly back into a sleek style only deepened the chill that already lived in his eyes.
"The contributors to Helikel Canyon are coming?"
His speech was neither hurried nor slow.
At that calm voice, the man standing across the desk bowed his head.
"Yes, Vice Minister. Under the guidance of Division Commander Velkain—Lieutenant Isaac Duraik, Second Lieutenant Tertian, and Sergeant Arteon. They are scheduled to arrive at the Imperial Palace at noon tomorrow."
Elhardt fell silent.
He seemed to ponder something intently for a moment, then drew a thin sheet of paper from a drawer.
Scratch, scratch, scratch!
A fountain pen heavy with ink raced across the page, writing with swift precision.
"Everyone must be celebrating the victory."
Elhardt murmured the words under his breath.
Helikel Canyon, reclaimed after ten years, held enormous value by itself. Once the fortifications currently under way were completed, the battlefield of the Northwestern First Defense Line would, for all practical purposes, cease to exist.
And yet—
"The war… is not over yet."
He folded the paper, sealed it in an envelope, and handed it to his subordinate.
"Deliver this to Nocturne."
The subordinate slipped the letter inside his coat and bowed.
Elhardt continued.
"And inform Him that the plan is proceeding exactly as scheduled. We need to remind those fools who think a single canyon can change everything just how merciless a battlefield truly is."
Outside the window, the dark-blue banner of the empire fluttered.
Beneath a darkness so thick it swallowed even the moonlight, the subordinate’s figure vanished with practiced speed.
"…"
Alone in the room, Elhardt rose and closed the window.
Nothing would change.
Still…
"…Helikel Canyon."
If unforeseen events continued to pile one upon another, they would bear watching.
At last his gaze, fixed until then upon the documents, shifted.
As the lamp went out and Elhardt stepped into the corridor, a black shadow drifted slowly behind his back.
The rocking of the carriage finally eased.
Arteon parted the curtain a fraction and looked out.
They had already entered the capital; beyond the window lay the streets of Polkerof, capital of the empire.
"…Oh."
Beside him, Tertian let out an involuntary sound of awe.
The capital was overwhelming. Stone buildings of antique grace stretched endlessly along carefully paved gravel roads. The faces of the people thronging the streets were bright, and the clear voice of an official delivering a speech in the central square carried easily on the air.
"So this is… the capital of the empire."
Arteon murmured the words almost to himself.
Even in his previous life he had never set foot here; now he had arrived with almost shocking speed.
Clench.
He tightened the fist resting on his knee.
The moment he actually entered the capital, a strange pressure closed around his chest, as though the air itself had grown too dense to breathe.
…I’m overthinking this.
He had not come here to fight a war.
Arteon closed his eyes and forced his mind to settle.
How much time passed after that, he could not say. He simply waited in silence, ignoring the changing density of the air through the window and the weight of unseen eyes.
The carriage that had been moving so slowly came to a halt at last.
"We have arrived."
At the coachman’s call the three of them stepped down.
"I have been awaiting you."
A man waiting at the entrance of the Imperial Palace bowed with precise courtesy toward Velkain.
"I am Taolk of the Imperial Guard. It is an honor to receive the legendary Division Commander Velkain of the Northwest, of whom I have only heard by reputation."
"I, too, am grateful for the imperial invitation. Lead on, if you would."
"This way, please."
As Taolk turned, the soldiers accompanying him closed ranks around Velkain, Arteon, Isaac, and Tertian, forming an escort.
And then—
"…Oh."
The moment they passed into the palace proper, a golden arched ceiling of ancient design glittered overhead. A long red carpet ran the length of the corridor; along the walls hung statues and portraits of those who had brought glory to the empire.
Thud, thud.
Perhaps it was the sheer splendor of the place. A subtle pressure seemed to settle on their shoulders.
They walked the long corridor until a group of waiting maids approached.
"While preparations are completed, please follow the maids to the annex and rest. Clothing has already been prepared for each of you; make yourselves comfortable."
At Taolk’s words three or four maids attached themselves to each guest. Arteon followed his guides into the annex.
"Please rest here. We will return shortly with your attire."
The middle-aged woman bowed politely and withdrew. Arteon surveyed the room.
"…Amazing."
In his previous life, had he ever set foot in a chamber this lavish? It was only a temporary guest annex, yet it radiated the full prestige of the Imperial Palace.
He sat in a chair. The entire situation still felt unreal, and his thoughts were a tangle.
…There’s no doubt.
Someone was using Moldrek as a front while manipulating the northern battlefield from the shadows. For that to be possible, the person had to have ties to the military at the very least.
But—
There are still far too many conditions left to narrow down.
He wanted to uncover the true identity as quickly as possible, yet there was simply too much to prepare first. Learning who they were while still lacking power would accomplish nothing.
Arteon leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.
How long he remained that way, he could not tell.
Knock, knock.
At the sound he opened his eyes and looked toward the door. The same maids entered again and bowed.
"We will assist you in preparing your appearance."
They emptied the contents of a basket into the waiting bath.
"Salt and herbs beneficial for the skin."
With that brief explanation the middle-aged maid gave a quiet signal. Two younger maids stepped forward and began removing Arteon’s clothing.
Rustle.
Practiced hands stripped away his coat and combat uniform. He had not asked for help, yet their movements were as natural as if they had known him for years.
Then—
"…Huh?"
It was not only the smooth, scarless skin. The extraordinarily developed muscle that belied his youthful face left a strong impression.
"I-I’m sorry!"
The maid who had gasped at the unexpected sight hastily apologized.
Arteon shook his head.
"It’s fine."
Silence settled over the bath chamber. Only the soft sounds of water and cloth remained.
When Arteon finally finished bathing and stepped out, the maids carefully dressed him in the garments they had brought. Clothes truly made the man; the difference from the worn northern uniform was absolute. Even the experienced middle-aged maid could not suppress a quiet note of admiration at the transformation.
"If it would not be presumptuous… may I trim your hair as well?"
"Would you? The bangs have been bothering me; I was going to hack them off myself. Please do."
"Then excuse me for a moment."
She set to work with scissors. The uneven, battlefield-cropped hair fell into clean, precise lines beneath her hands.
When she finished, Arteon was almost unrecognizable from the man who had first entered the palace.
To put it a little dramatically—
…It almost looks as if light is coming off him.
Even within the Imperial Palace, looks like his were rare; the maids carefully schooled their expressions.
"Then… this way, please."
Arteon followed them out of the annex.
Isaac and Tertian were already waiting outside. Both stared.
"What kept you so long? Hurry up and—wait… who…?"
"…Huh."
Even the usually taciturn Tertian could not hide his astonishment. Changing clothes was one thing, but could a person truly transform this much?
Arteon answered with perfect calm.
"Is it that strange?"
"No—it’s magnificent. Honestly, this is the first time in my life my eyes have been drawn to another man."
"It suits you, Arteon."
Tertian added his own quiet agreement. The change was that dramatic.
Soon the three of them followed the maids toward the grand hall. Velkain had already gone ahead.
Thud, thud.
Once more they walked a long corridor.
This meritorious service ceremony had been arranged to honor the victory at Helikel Canyon. In other words, it was a stage prepared for the three soldiers present here.
And so the three heroes who had survived the frozen battlefields of the north walked toward the grand hall.
Grrrrrrrrrind.
The great doors of the hall began to open. Massive bronze panels swung inward; the low, heavy scrape of metal against stone rolled through the entire palace.
Thud!
The moment the doors stood fully open—
"…"
The air that flowed out was entirely different from the corridors. Heavy with incense and the scent of ancient wood.
But more than that, dozens of pairs of eyes fixed upon them at once.
Dazzling formal dress. Earrings and necklaces glittered; epaulets and medals of rank adorned every shoulder.
"…Whew."
Even Isaac felt the weight of those stares. He exhaled softly and glanced at Arteon and Tertian with quiet concern, afraid the two soldiers might be crushed by the presence filling the hall.
But—
Step.
"…"
As though none of it touched him, Arteon simply walked forward with the same calm expression. Isaac’s eyes flickered.
In an atmosphere this majestic, taking even a single step into the hall was no small feat.
Step. Step. Step.
Neither hurried nor hesitant, his strides drew every gaze to the young man at the front of the group. Deep brown hair, neatly arranged, caught a soft sheen from the sunlight filtering through the high windows. Beneath it, golden eyes held a quiet, piercing light. Eyes full of courage looked straight ahead. He paid no attention to those watching him; his steps remained steady and proud.
At last Arteon reached Velkain and saluted.
"Steel Heart. Forgive the delay."
"Stand here."
Velkain himself was briefly surprised by the transformation, yet true to his nickname—the Ogre of Benhard—he allowed no emotion to show.
Arteon took his place at Velkain’s side; Isaac and Tertian followed.
"…Who is that boy standing next to Commander Velkain?"
"Lord Velkain doesn’t keep a page… Surely the contributor being honored isn’t that boy?"
"Impossible."
A low murmur ran through the hall. Somewhere between youth and young manhood, the boyish face still lingering—no one could readily believe such a young soldier had achieved so great a feat.
Then—
"His Majesty the Emperor enters!"
At the secretary’s cry from the entrance, every person in the hall turned as one.
The emperor walked the long red carpet and ascended the dais. The moment he seated himself upon the throne—
"We greet His Majesty the Emperor!"
All present bowed their heads and called out in unison.
The emperor looked down upon them and smiled faintly.
"Raise your heads."
When every gaze returned to him, he turned toward Velkain and the soldiers standing with him.
And then—
"We shall begin the meritorious service awards."
The reclamation of Helikel Canyon—an achievement that would write a new page in the empire’s history—had brought them to this moment.
The ceremony began.