Chapter 292

Sunlight streamed into an office at Imperial Guard headquarters.

“There are always people who think that if they have a powerful new force, they should use it without question. They never consider the overall circumstances or efficiency.”

Lieutenant General Jens, an old Imperial Guard hand nearing retirement, set down the teacup.

“It’s like shooting into the sea to catch fish.”

Colonel Kai Han listened to Jens. Their arm was in a cast, their leg in a splint, and they moved around on crutches, or at least appeared to.

“This is why factions are such a problem. The work hasn’t even succeeded, yet they’re already imagining how the credit will be divided afterward.”

That was always how people who claimed to understand politics behaved. To catch the Emperor’s eye somehow, they held back anyone who seemed likely to stand out more than themselves.

“In the past, the Regular Army would’ve had no choice but to follow.”

The Imperial Guard, suddenly formed one day, treated the Regular Army as obsolete. The nobles dismissed them as ruffians who knew nothing but guns and swords. The Imperial Palace ignored them.

Even so, the Regular Army’s position had been too humble for it to be picky.

“Not anymore.”

A noble who had suddenly appeared.

A man more exalted than any noble, richer than any businessman. In Jens’s view, he could readily rival all the Empire’s businesses combined.

He respected the Regular Army, improved its treatment, and at the same time made himself into the person they feared most.

The incident in which hundreds of corrupt Regular Army soldiers had been shot still remained engraved in their minds.

“The person the Regular Army will follow has already been decided.”

Of course, the Imperial Guard had been reluctant from the beginning when proposing that the Regular Army join them. They believed they could easily handle Yursled themselves, so they had actually welcomed the excuses given by Regular Army general officers. They laughed at them for being fools who couldn’t even take what was offered.

“Just as you have.”

Jens glanced at Kai Han’s crutches.

“...You are remarkable.”

Kai Han admired Jens, Kai Han’s political mentor. From a desk in the Imperial Guard, Jens had read the Regular Army’s power structure, rivalries, and psychology completely.

“You seem as though you could remain in the military for several more years.”

Jens smiled faintly.

“I want to live somewhere peaceful now. I’ve spent too long watching other people’s expressions.”

Then Jens looked toward Kai Han.

“You seem to have much you wish to accomplish.”

“...Yes.”

Kai Han nodded heavily. A trace of anger flickered in their eyes.

“Look at what the continent is saying right now.”

Countless countries across the continent were insulting the Empire. As an Imperial soldier, Kai Han could not simply stand by and watch. Thus, Kai Han waited alongside the adjutants who had served with them for so long, waiting for the time to depart, for the call of “that person”...

“...Be careful.”

Jens spoke.

“Do you know why His Majesty the Emperor trusts the House head of Ebenholtz so deeply?”

“Yes. Because they fought on every battlefield together and won them all...”

“No. That was merely the process.”

Jens cut Kai Han off and lowered their voice.

“Sebastian proved his loyalty even at the very end. With his own hands, he crushed every sprout.”

Comrades who could have become powerful ministers. Subordinates who could have become a house.

He had cut down every sprout that might gather beneath his own name and presented every victory solely to the Emperor.

“Sebastian was the first Imperial Guard.”

Maximilian’s father, the House head of Ebenholtz.

If Maximilian were given the same situation, what choice would he make?

“...Don’t get too close. One must always keep a distance from the sun.”

But Kai Han did not need that advice.

Kai Han had already made a decision. To serve the “Moon” to the end.

“...Hm.”

Jens gazed steadily at Kai Han, then lifted one corner of their mouth.

Scrape.

Jens took a document from a drawer and placed it on the desk.

“Kai Han, it’s an assignment.”

“...”

The elegant handwriting upon it. A face that seemed to appear before Kai Han’s eyes the moment they saw it.

“Whew...”

Kai Han carefully folded and put away the letter, then took a deep breath.

With their left arm, Kai Han removed the cast from their right arm. With both arms, they took off the splint on their leg.

“Hm. You’ve recovered already?”

Jens asked in surprise.

Kai Han touched various parts of their body and answered.

“Yes. I’m fine now.”

At last, the time had come.

...

Lieutenant General Maut, commander of the Empire’s Western Army Group, studied a battlefield map in the office.

The Allied Forces advanced cautiously, alternating artillery bombardments and advances. They were already sixty kilometers inside the Imperial border. Not fast, but not slow either.

Maut had stalled for time while facing them. Several outposts had been surrendered like bait, and no greater offensive had been launched.

It was because of someone’s order to draw them “deeper inside.”

Knock knock.

The knock interrupted Maut’s thoughts.

“Commander.”

An adjutant entered and handed over a document. It was an envelope sealed with a classified marking and stamp.

Riiip.

Lieutenant General Maut broke the seal. Inside was a document, a list of countless soldiers.

“...”

As Maut read it line by line, murmuring under their breath, a smile slowly spread across their face.

They were familiar soldiers.

The names of young officers whom “he” had long watched closely and fostered through Ebenholtz’s patronage.

“The Regular Army personnel listed here.”

Maut handed the list to the adjutant.

“Order every one of them to the front.”

Then Maut picked up a newspaper. Every scrap of paper mocking the Empire.

“Distribute them to every unit.”

This too was propaganda meant to raise soldiers’ morale and build their anger.

“Yes!”

The adjutant saluted and departed.

“Ha...”

Left alone, Maut suddenly felt their blood boil.

The distant Western War had become a hazy memory, and Maut had grown so old since those days in Gennen. Yet why?

At the feelings of that day returning so vividly, Maut’s fingertips trembled.

From firewood thought burned out, the reddest ember leapt.

At this age, I’ll stand on a real battlefield once again.

...

The base of the Seventh Division under the Imperial Regular Army’s Fourth Armored Corps.

Bernhardt was summoned to the division commander’s office. Excluded from both the western and eastern fronts until now, he entered with mixed feelings and found someone else already waiting inside.

It was Adel, his academy classmate.

“...”

Adel and Bern exchanged glances and stood side by side.

“Major Bernhardt. Major Adel.”

At the summons of Major General Otto Krantz, the division commander, they hurriedly saluted.

“Major Bernhardt reporting!”

“Major Adel reporting!”

The division commander spoke briefly to the two officers.

“It’s an assignment.”

“...?”

A sudden assignment. The division commander informed them of their departure date.

It was tomorrow.

“And.”

A letter was handed to each of them.

Luxurious envelopes written in elegant handwriting.

On the front were the words, “To Major Adel” and “To Major Bernhardt.”

The sender’s name on the back was...

“Consider it an honor.”

Just as the division commander said.

Adel and Bern carefully placed the letters inside their uniforms, then raised one hand to their brows.

“Loyalty!”

Perhaps the salute was not for the division commander, but for “him.”

...

The Empire’s National Military Hospital. Built with Maximilian’s donations, it was also called Ebenholtz Hospital by the soldiers. It was one of the Imperial Regular Army’s greatest benefits.

Quite a few lower-class people volunteered for the military because of this hospital.

“Hmm...”

Lieutenant General Schweitzer walked down the corridor, looking around.

“There are a lot of familiar faces here.”

Even while receiving treatment, he looked incredulous.

“How many stars are there?”

General officers were walking through the hospital. Most were in civilian clothes. Had they all decided to feign illness, or were they truly sick?

Schweitzer could not tell.

“Lieutenant General Schweitzer?”

A doctor arrived and handed him a prescription.

“Here are two weeks’ worth of painkillers and anti-inflammatory medication. The gunshot wound requires a follow-up examination, so please return in two weeks.”

“Ah, yes.”

He accepted the envelope.

“I might come back later. My whole body has been aching lately...”

The doctor smiled, and Schweitzer left the hospital.

Incidentally, there was no need to pay. Regular Army soldiers and their immediate family members received treatment for free.

So this was why soldiers kept saying, “Maximilian, Maximilian.”

“I’m hungry.”

He had planned to return to his quarters and rest for a while, but then...

Vroooom!

A military truck suddenly stopped in front of him. Schweitzer’s brow furrowed.

“What the hell?”

Clunk.

One of the people inside got out and saluted him. Schweitzer watched with an unpleasant look.

“Lieutenant General Schweitzer. This time...”

“I’m on my way back with a prescription.”

Schweitzer cut the soldier off.

“I might have cancer.”

Yet the soldier stubbornly continued.

“Lieutenant General Schweitzer, there was a message asking whether you were ready.”

“Prepared for what? Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“I did, sir.”

“What?”

How dare this lieutenant colonel talk back.

“Here. Please take this.”

The officer handed him a letter. It was not a military document. Even the texture felt different. Soft, smooth paper from a noble house.

Sshhk.

The envelope opened like silk.

The message inside was short.

Short, but perfectly clear.

Schweitzer’s heart began to pound.

“What do you think?”

the lieutenant colonel asked.

“Hmm...”

Schweitzer crossed his arms and pretended to consider it. He struggled to suppress the smile creeping across his lips. He thought about playing hard to get, but in the end, he couldn’t hold back.

Schweitzer laughed loudly and answered.

“Tell him I think I’m about ready.”

Maximilian had called for me.

That bastard wanted to stand on the same battlefield as me.

...

Leutern II had remained restrained in speaking about this war.

Naturally, he was furious over the Imperial Guard’s struggles.

“Should I take the field as a commander?” I had agonized over it, but because Father was not well, I pushed Maximilian forward instead.

Obviously, Maximilian was a far more trustworthy friend than those Imperial Guard bastards.

So whenever he met Imperial Guard bastards like Grossmann, he had exchanged glares, talked behind their backs, and generally tilted the atmosphere of the Imperial Palace in that direction.

And finally, today.

An important meeting was convened in the great hall of the Imperial Palace.

It meant that the imperial family, that is, His Majesty the Emperor, had made a decision.

However, His Majesty did not emerge from the Most Holy Sanctum. Justine, the Emperor’s heir, stood in his place.

“...”

The Emperor’s throne.

The Imperial Princess stood beside it, where it sat empty.

On the right side of the hall below were Chief Secretary Grossmann and the Imperial Guard executives, with black uniforms continuing behind them.

Leutern naturally stood to the left. He did not want to stand with those bastards.

The nobles and officials of the Imperial Palace gathered around Leutern as well. Foreign Minister Steller, Chief of the General Staff Berens, and others.

The great hall split in two.

The Imperial Princess looked over them all and spoke.

“Countless mouths are insulting the Empire.”

Leutern knew that, of course. The continent’s ragged, beggarly words were constantly translated and carried across the Empire’s borders.

“Yet His Majesty the Emperor has not been disappointed by the current state of the war. He regards it as nothing more than the barking of frightened dogs.”

Even so, it meant the Emperor would continue keeping the Imperial Guard at his side. Mercy that did not blame them, but instead protected them.

A low murmur passed among the Imperial Guard members.

“However, barking dogs require a heavier punishment and a sharper sword.”

And so, what the Imperial Princess was about to say was this.

“His Majesty will wield the Empire’s sword.”

It meant the Imperial Guard could not become the Empire’s sword after all.

A small commotion arose in the hall. Leutern glanced at Grossmann. The bastard was indeed working hard to control their expression, but their temple had just twitched slightly.

Heh.

Leutern swallowed his laughter at the wonderfully satisfying sight.

...

“His Majesty will wield the Empire’s sword.”

The words of the Imperial Princess, written as if in her own voice.

Kairon, commander of the knights, read the message sent to Sentinel as he waited for someone.

“The sword will go forth to every Imperial battlefield, solely for His Majesty the Emperor.”

At last, Sentinel would be deployed and granted the proper authority.

“Upon all who have insulted the Empire, the Empire’s greatest punishment shall fall.”

Knock knock.

Kairon smiled at the timely sound.

“Wherever His Majesty’s will reaches, the Empire’s sword shall cut down the Empire’s enemies.”

Before long, the door to the commander’s office opened.

“Let no one doubt the Empire’s sword.”

Kairon rose from his seat.

He looked at the approaching man.

“Whoever doubts the sword doubts the Empire.”

A Sentinel uniform. Golden hair and golden eyes, a clearer symbol of the Aran than any other. A calm appearance like a frozen lake.

The most beautiful man Kairon had ever seen.

“Their name is...”

Kairon called his name.

“Maximilian Ebenholtz.”

* * *

The Imperial Princess’s hideout.

In that place filled with clean, settled air, Justine read alone.

Rustle.

The title was “Baltaras,” the Empire’s required reading before Maximilian’s “Under the Moonlight.”

Rustle.

She turned the pages with one hand and idly touched the table with the other.

Rustle.

Before long, she sensed “him” entering.

Rustle.

There was neither haste nor hesitation in his steps.

Rustle.

The air simply stirred softly, and he sat across from her.

Tap.

Justine closed her book. She looked ahead, pretending to be composed.

“...”

Maximilian was there.

A face with no overly long middle section, no angular jaw, no blemishes or wrinkles. Every part was perfect.

He rested his hands naturally at his sides. His gaze did not rise or lower even an inch from the Imperial Princess’s eye level.

“You came.”

At Justine’s words, he nodded quietly, as neat and immaculate as ever.

“It has been a long time, Your Highness.”

His voice was clear and transparent as crystal. It was quite pleasing to hear.

“Let us eat first.”

“Yes.”

The meal was served afterward.

Neither spoke.

Justine herself remained silent and wanted silence, and Maximilian understood her wishes.

But quiet was dangerous.

If an improper action occurred, every sound echoed especially loudly.

For example, if a knife struck a plate, if a glass made noise when set down, or if someone chewed too loudly...

None of that applied to Maximilian.

His utensils did not clatter. His glass settled without a sound. His knife moved only over the meat, and he chewed with his mouth closed.

He dined with her without troubling her in the slightest, neither tense nor intimidated, showing endless courtesy.

He was simply quiet.

And elegant.

The Imperial Princess finished a meal comfortably for the first time in weeks, but the problem came after the meal.

“The east and the west. Which do you intend to settle first?”

She asked Maximilian which front he wanted to handle first.

A choice that meant he could choose whichever side he desired.

“...”

Maximilian dabbed his mouth with a napkin.

“Which side...”

As he considered it, Justine thought to herself.

Even Maximilian, in this situation, would probably begin by cursing the Imperial Guard and cleaning up after their failure.

Or perhaps he would leave the Imperial Guard to collapse and deal with the west first.

“Is there any need to choose?”

But Maximilian spoke.

“I will crush and slaughter the eastern and western bastards at the same time.”

His confidence exceeded her expectations once again, and his voice did not waver in the slightest.

“I will display the Empire’s stature to the continent.”

He did not blame anyone else. He did not choose an opponent.

He merely declared that he would cut them all down.

“...”

Justine remained silent, but her tightly closed lips had already formed a smile.

This was how the Empire’s sword should be.

Now, Justine wanted to trust Maximilian.

She had found a reason to trust him.