The Masked Prince (1)
Dien Schmidt and his comrades were, for the time being, soldiers attached to the Eastern Army Command. That meant they could wander the armory beneath headquarters without any restrictions. With manpower stretched thin, the army had conscripted anyone and everyone—revolutionaries, democrats, nationalists, imperialists—without bothering to screen their ideologies. Those who had hidden their true selves amid the Titan onslaught began to harbor other ambitions the moment the scales tipped toward humanity’s victory. In the end, it was all a matter of karma. The debts they had quietly accumulated had finally come due today.
The first to move were the revolutionaries, chief among them the Revolutionary Front, the most active and expansive of the factions. Their long-standing target had always been the imperialists. Armed with the crimson ideology of communism, they harbored an extreme loathing for the existing ruling class embodied by the Emperor and the nobility. Most of them were radicals who insisted the aristocrats should be dragged to the guillotine at once. This hatred had only intensified after the imperialists abruptly allied with the nationalists—longtime rivals—and together crushed the revolutionaries from both sides. The Revolutionary Front had lost more people to those two factions than to the Titans themselves.
“Idiots. They’re laughing and chattering away without realizing today’s their funeral.”
“I’ve wanted to put a bullet in the commander’s face more times than I can count. Looks like I’ll finally get my wish.”
“Hey, why’s Dien just standing there with his mouth shut?”
“Ah… he says he drank too much yesterday. Terrible hangover.”
“Really? Tch. He should know when to stop. Can’t see a damn thing because he’s still drunk?”
Dien nodded vaguely in agreement. Of course he couldn’t see. He was already dead to this world.
“Where’d that bastard even get an officer’s mask? Did he knock up some female officer?”
“Daphrin’s got a face that’s easy on the eyes. He’s already bagged an officer once before.”
“Hey, hey, why bring that up? Just grab your weapons and move. I’m nervous enough as it is.”
Dien broke into a cold sweat as he watched his revolutionary comrades spout such reckless nonsense. When he glanced sideways, Werner—face hidden behind the mask—was calmly distributing weapons to the others as if nothing were amiss. To Dien, that composure was far more terrifying.
“Kek, look at Dien. All talk until it’s time to act, then he’s pissing himself.”
“Why’d they suddenly change the guard rotation? Caught me off guard.”
“No idea, but it’s better we prepared early. Works out in our favor.”
They tossed a few jokes at the pale-faced Dien, who looked as though he desperately needed the toilet. In normal times he would have traded curses with them, but right now the wisest course was to keep as much distance as possible.
“Hey… by the way, do any of you know who’s in charge of this operation?”
“The one in charge? Why does that matter all of a sudden?”
“I just don’t want us doing all the dirty work while they sit back in comfort.”
He thought the excuse sounded reasonable enough. Even for an assassination, it was irritating to be left hanging while everyone else relaxed. He had voiced the same complaint to his comrades who died yesterday. Yet the oblivious fools only responded with indignation.
“Watch your mouth, Dien. You’ll get yourself killed for real. Don’t you know the Revolutionary Front’s motto?”
“You know how short-tempered the leaders are. Cross them and rank means nothing. We’re just grunts—we need to be extra careful. We don’t even have proper connections yet.”
Revolutionary leaders? What nonsense. The ones who really needed to watch their mouths were them, Dien thought, the words rising to his throat before he swallowed them back down. It felt as though that terrifying reaper was already aiming the pistol hidden beneath his uniform. And in truth, he was.
Werner intended to kill them all if they stepped out of line. He already had more than enough evidence. Even without mentioning the wiretap, he could simply claim he had discovered them roaming headquarters and shot them on the spot; Eastern Army Command would have no grounds to object.
“Anyway, once the operation’s over, gather at the rear gate of headquarters. The revolutionary leader said he’d come meet us in person.”
The revolutionary leader. He had obtained one clue, but more critical information remained. Werner prodded Dien with his foot. Dien asked in return,
“Ah… where will you all be? We still have three hours left.”
“There’s a staff lounge inside the banquet hall. We’ll be there. Come by if you’re bored—there’s no one watching anyway.”
Because security throughout headquarters was so lax, even the terrorists moved about freely. “Come by if you’re bored.” It was an absurd thing for assassins plotting to kill high-ranking officers to say. Once the revolutionary comrades had slipped away with their pilfered weapons, Dien let out a long sigh and sank to the floor.
“W-was that enough? I was useful, right?”
“Yes.”
Werner answered while removing his mask. It was a black cat mask he had quietly taken from headquarters. Since the masquerade’s primary purpose was to conceal identities, there was no need to advertise his lieutenant colonel rank. Captain would suffice. He had already given Karin separate instructions, so suppressing the terrorists should not prove difficult. Still, his greatest concern remained.
Leah.
Leah Gilliard. She had always enjoyed parties and social events; she would certainly attend this one. Having risen from warrant officer through distinguished service in the war, she was expected to be promoted to commissioned rank. Yet he had never imagined they would reunite like this, in this place. He had left her a warning letter as a last resort, but he could not be certain she would heed it. If it were the old days, he would have shouted at her or dragged her away by force to keep her out of danger. But now that he had chosen to distance himself from them, he could not do so.
“……”
Werner was genuinely worried for her. What if she got hurt? What if she suffered a serious injury that left her crippled, or fell into critical condition? Worst of all, what if she became entangled in the incident and died? He would never be able to forgive himself. No. He had to prevent that at all costs.
“Your name was Dien, wasn’t it? Go to the address I’m about to give you and wait there.”
“Huh…? Huh?!”
“Of course, you’re free to run. But if you do, I’ll hand your information over to the Revolutionary Front.”
“W-why?! I cooperated with you!”
Dien cried out, his voice filled with indignation. Werner remained cold. Whether he came or not, the fact that Dien was a terrorist who would have killed or injured dozens of people did not change.
“You said you wanted a clean sweep. We haven’t even caught the low-level members yet.”
“But…!”
“I’ve already shown you enough mercy. If you want more, we’ll talk again once everything is finished.”
With those final words, Werner put the mask back on and headed toward the banquet hall. Dien stared after him, cursing under his breath as he checked the address. In the end, it came down to survival. Having already spilled information to the Revolutionary Front, he was finished either way. If the operation failed, he would bear the full responsibility. Whether he was hunted by a murderer or by the Revolutionary Front, the despair was the same. In that case, clinging tighter to the rope he had already grasped might be the wiser choice. Yes. That would do. Dien turned on his heel and made for the inn on the outskirts of the city listed in the address. He felt no lingering attachment to the Revolutionary Front. He had joined because a friend had dragged him along, tempted by promises of money and honor if he worked hard. Had he known they would assign such a dangerous mission, he never would have enlisted. Besides, the story about having a wife and children left behind had been a lie.
~~
A few hours later, the banquet hall of Branberg Castle was filled with people in all manner of tailcoats and civilian attire. The atmosphere was markedly different from the previous day, when everyone had worn uniforms.
~~♪ ~~♬
“Wow.”
Leah let out a short gasp of admiration. This was on an entirely different level from the events at Graveyard, which had amounted to little more than decorating a single auditorium. The thrill and nervousness of meeting people she had never encountered before was also quite pleasant.
“Glad you came, right? I knew you’d like it.”
Her superior, Colonel Julia Anke of the 32nd Regiment under the Eastern Army Command, said with a smile.
“Thanks to you, Colonel.”
Shortly after Graveyard—the Empire’s most famous fortress, victorious in countless fierce battles—was disbanded, Leah Gilliard, who had served as supply company commander there, was assigned to the Eastern Army Command. The warrant officer rank had been a special class created during the war against the Titans. Accordingly, headquarters had promoted willing warrant officers to commissioned ranks. Based on their achievements and years of service, they were promoted en masse from second lieutenant up to captain. Among them, Leah, who received the rank of lieutenant, skipped the platoon commander position entirely and was assigned the staff role of regimental intelligence officer. She had not wanted to part with the comrades she had shared five years of hardship with—Leah had even cried on the final day—but the new soldiers treated her well, and she had now fully adapted. In particular, she had used her natural warmth and energy to grow rapidly close to her regimental commander, Julia Anke. Among the many officers, the reason Julia had specifically chosen Leah as her aide was because the two had become so close they were treated like sisters. After all, Leah already had a high-ranking female officer she was close with back at Graveyard—Brigadier General Arhen. Compared to the other officers, Leah felt relatively little pressure around Julia.
“So? Any promising men? It’s hard to tell with everyone wearing masks.”
Julia clicked her tongue in mild frustration. Lately the two of them had been talking about marriage quite often. With the war over, it was time to start looking for their other halves. At her commander’s words, Leah gave a small nod.
“Oh!? Really!?”
“Yes, he seemed like a decent person. Just a feeling.”
In truth, many men approached Leah. Even with half her face hidden by a mask, the aura a person gave off could not be concealed. The backless red dress, her brown hair tied in a single strand falling down her back, and the subtle scent of perfume were more than enough to pique men’s interest. Among them was even someone holding the same rank as Julia—colonel. A colonel making advances on a lieutenant. Leah Gilliard’s appearance was so captivating that men were willing to set aside their pride at an event like this. If this had not been a masquerade, she would likely have drawn even more attention. Still, among them all, Leah found her gaze drawn to the man wearing the black cat mask that signified a captain. He had vanished as though fleeing before they could have a proper conversation, yet from the moment their eyes met, something about him had struck her deeply.
“Where, let me see. A captain, you said?”
“Over there…”
Leah pointed with her finger toward a man sipping wine in the corner of the banquet hall. Even beneath the neat formal attire, his solid physique was clearly visible. There was an undeniable aura about him, even just from the way he drank his wine. Julia nodded in satisfaction.
“My, he’s quite something. Even I can tell he’s handsome. Doesn’t feel like just a captain—there’s a weight to him, a real presence.”
“Right? His eyes were blue.”
“Blue? That’s a rare color. Good luck, Leah. A captain’s rank is similar enough that dating would be easy.”
She gave Leah’s shoulder an amused pat. The atmosphere really was different. The thick, masculine aura he exuded set him apart from the bookish types commonly found at headquarters. As a field commander who had fought through the war, Julia could tell. He was a veteran warrior who had survived countless battlefields, an outstanding soldier. If Leah had not spotted him first, Julia might have approached him herself without thinking.
“But I’m not sure. It was intense enough to make my heart race, yet the way he looked at me felt almost… scolding. It was frightening.”
“Maybe he just has a scary gaze?”
“Maybe.”
“If you see another man like that later, let me know. I’ll yield this time.”
“Oh come on, Colonel. It’s fine…! Don’t worry about me—just go talk to him yourself.”
“How could I? That would be crossing a line. Setting aside the superior-subordinate relationship, there are boundaries women shouldn’t cross with each other.”
“Colonel Julia really is a strange one.”
It was at that moment, while the two were enjoying their idle chatter, that a sudden gunshot rang out.
Taang!!
Crash!!
With the sharp report of a gunshot and the sound of shattering glass, the banquet hall descended into chaos.