Chapter 302: Faith (3)

The Empire paused to catch its breath.

This winter was “scheduled” to be quite cold.

So the plan was to stabilize Bolska and Yursled, build Camps, and wait for the next move over the winter...

Or so I had intended.

Agento sent Balkania's army forward first.

Of course, they were driven back by the Imperial defensive lines. Instead, they found themselves surrounded, and thousands were taken prisoner.

...I couldn't understand what the hell they were doing.

If they were going to attack, they should have come quickly, before the Imperial troops settled in. Instead, they suddenly arrived with winter almost upon us, froze to death on mountain roads, and surrendered of their own free will when they couldn't take it anymore...

“Please confirm the instructions for handling prisoners. Quite a few of these bastards swore the oath after the last battle.”

Brigadier General Graf, commander of the Balkanian occupation forces, asked what to do with the prisoners.

“Separate them carefully. Execute everyone who came back despite having sworn the oath.”

Anyone who returned after making that promise to the Empire would die. There would be no second act of mercy.

“Have the rest swear the oath, then send them home. No exceptions.”

“Yes.”

Brigadier General Graf ended the call.

I put down my receiver too.

The Empire needed an army that followed principles.

In the past, the Empire had possessed no principles. They killed out of anger, killed out of boredom, and threw people into Camps.

This time, there were principles.

Knowing these principles would make people surrender. Knowing them would make people desert. The oath itself provided grounds for a massacre. A homeland that forced someone back into the army after they had sworn it became a villain trying to kill them...

But right now, even this was only a minor matter.

“...Hmm.”

Today, an administrative officer had delivered a proposal submitted by the Imperial Guard.

[ Proposal Concerning the Disposal of Subspecies ]

It began with, “Following the occupation of Yursled and Bolska, the subspecies population has increased sharply, raising concerns that Imperial food supplies may be wasted on them...”

It proposed methods of disposing of them.

Every sentence was dry and businesslike, but the more closely I read, the more I wanted to vomit.

I knew the name of the person who had written this paper.

‘Mayf Klopfer.’

The doctor who had invented a system that would go down in history.

“...”

I gripped the paper tightly.

* * *

“Even knights are nothing more than dogs crawling on the ground!”

At a Hailand airfield, Air Force Command had completed its expansion. The bombers of the enlarged air wing stood in rows on either side of the runway.

“You fly higher than knights!”

Air Force General Herbert Morley shouted to the entire air wing lined up on the runway: pilots, navigators, gunners, mechanics...

“The Empire's knights jump down, but you climb higher! Once a knight falls from the sky, they can't get back up on their own. But you remain in the sky!”

Of all the Empire's forces, it was the knights that these Hailand soldiers feared most.

“If they're monsters descending from the sky, you're the people who own that sky! All of us!”

General Herbert raised a fist, looking out at them.

“We will turn the Empire's night into day!”

Whooooo.

Wind swept across the airfield. Dust drifted low over the grass runway, and the bombers' propellers began to stir.

“...Of course, some of you won't return. I won't hide that.”

The collars of the pilots' leather jackets fluttered. Some swallowed, while others looked up at the sky.

“But I promise you this: the bombs you drop will become the foundation stones for bringing down the great evil that is the Empire! For the homeland!”

“For the homeland!”

They all saluted at once. Behind the reviewing stand, where their cries rang out, Army Minister Leonard fell into quiet thought.

The air bases would become targets for the knights one day.

Of course, the airfields were scattered, but the Imperial bastards might strike them all at once and crush them.

This unpredictability was the Sentinel knights' greatest weapon. There were no informants connected to Sentinel, either inside or outside Hailand. Sentinel didn't even seem to exchange coded messages. Everything was handled within the organization.

“Position the hounds in close support.”

Leonard spoke to the person behind them, the head of Belford, the institution that trained superhumans.

If the knights came to the airfields, they had to be caught on their way home after completing their mission.

A knight's physical strength and mana were not unlimited. They consumed large amounts of both from the moment they dropped, and the longer they spent moving on the ground, the weaker they became.

A knight returning home after a mission was therefore a beast that could certainly be hunted.

Sacrificing a few planes as bait would be well worth it if they could capture a single knight alive.

...

Ezel Runselot set off on a journey. She boarded a train and crossed the eastern border.

Arriving in a country called Yursled, she walked through its city center, using her travel permit as a shield.

At first glance, it looked ordinary.

Tanks rolled through the streets, but bakeries were open, and children laughed as they kicked a ball.

Yet there were “Zones” divided by barbed wire. A sign on a cafe window read [No Subspecies Allowed].

“...”

As she wandered around taking in the sights, night fell before she knew it.

Click. Click.

The streetlights went out one by one.

Even then, Ezel kept walking.

“Hey! You there!”

A voice stopped her from behind.

Imperial Guard uniforms. The Imperial language. Two members of the Imperial Guard.

“Turn around slowly.”

Ezel turned toward them.

“Are you Imperial?”

The Guard member spoke in the Imperial language. First, they examined Ezel's appearance. Would they have shot her on the spot if she had been from Yursled?

“Curfew is from eight in the evening until five in the morning.”

“I have my family register.”

Ezel took her family register from inside her coat and handed it over. Their expressions stiffened when they saw it.

“...Our apologies.”

They saluted and stepped back.

But from the darkness behind them,

Step. Step.

Another man walked out and took the family register.

“Hmm... To think I'd meet a daughter of House Runselot here.”

Ezel looked at his face. She knew him.

Rainer Wolf, something of a celebrity in the Empire. Acting Governor-General of Yursled.

“Yes. It's nice to see you.”

“We're currently under martial law.”

Rainer Wolf began walking. He meant for her to follow.

“So please understand that travel may be somewhat difficult.”

“...”

Ezel followed Rainer. She addressed his back.

“Is martial law why you killed so many people?”

“Well...”

Immediately after taking office, Rainer had executed hundreds of people by firing squad.

“Governing requires stages. First, there must be fear.”

Ezel silently waited for him to continue.

“After that, however, we'll offer the carrot instead. Even now, rations for Yursled's workers are only slightly below those in the Empire.”

Rainer Wolf recited this without expression.

He considered himself a man who understood moderation. Someone who knew how to handle people.

“As long as the factories keep running, the Empire won't condemn them, and the people of Yursled won't complain. Because, in the end, they too...”

A faint smile appeared on Rainer's lips.

“Want to be like us.”

“...Us?”

Ezel repeated the word without thinking.

“Yes. Aran. Now the entire continent recognizes the purity and superiority of the Aran.”

“...”

“They're inferior because they weren't born Aran, and so they envy us. But if they work hard, they can attain quasi-applicable bloodline status.”

Tap.

Ezel kicked a pebble lying by the roadside.

“So if we reward them according to their work, and hold out the hope that they can reach that status, they'll willingly seek to submit to us.”

Rainer Wolf did not slow his pace.

“The problem, of course, is the Izenheim.”

That word. Izenheim.

“Are the Izenheim alone beyond saving?”

That was what Ezel asked.

Rainer Wolf's profile paused beneath a streetlight.

“...Sir Maximilian thinks so.”

Maximilian. The sudden mention of her old friend's name seemed to press down on Ezel's heart.

Did he still think of me as a friend?

“Who can measure how far beyond saving someone is? Personally, I see nearly all subspecies as much the same. But Sir Maximilian's hatred... Everyone knows about it.”

Maximilian was the face of the Empire.

Because he hated the Izenheim, everyone would compete to prove their loyalty.

Everyone would try to kill Izenheim.

“Do you know about the documents being submitted within the Imperial Guard? Even I sometimes find many of them frightening to read.”

Rainer gave a quiet chuckle.

Ezel pulled her coat collar closed.

“For now, please rest here tonight. Even a daughter of House Runselot cannot escape the curfew.”

The former prime minister's official residence, now the governor-general's home.

Rainer Wolf signaled to the servants with his eyes.

“Take good care of her. She's an honored guest.”

They took Ezel's coat and bag.

Ezel wandered freely through the corridors.

They had cleared away all of Yursled's history and lavishly filled the place with useless decorations...

A sickening space without a trace of taste.

* * *

This continent had an award called the Erpel Prize.

A mining magnate from the neutral country of Selbia had established it through a will, to be awarded to the person who made the greatest contribution to humanity.

Before my regression, penicillin's inventor had received that prize after the war.

Was I stealing it in this life?

The question suddenly came to me.

Could someone like me receive such an award? Penicillin would certainly save countless lives and extend humanity's lifespan.

But I would cause the deaths of countless people...

I didn't know.

An award didn't matter in the first place.

Rustle. Rustle.

Winter had come to the continent once again.

As snowflakes began to settle, I looked out over regular army headquarters from someone's office and spoke.

“This winter will be quite harsh.”

This period had brought record-breaking cold.

It was better to avoid most military operations.

“How do you predict these things?”

At the voice, I turned toward him.

Lieutenant General Schweitzer tilted his head, a map spread across the long table before him.

“It's already this cold, isn't it?”

“Well... True enough. Anyway, what do you think?”

He tapped a point on the map with his finger.

The Mekken Mountains.

The Mekken Mountains were an extremely dangerous region. Monsters, anomalies, and beings beyond human understanding lurked there.

“So, in the end, you want to cross Mekken?”

“That's right. We call Mekken a mountain range, but it's practically a forest trail.”

Before my regression, Schweitzer had crossed Mekken too, but he had lost a large part of his division in the mountains.

“But there are routes through Mekken. We can send light infantry to scout the interior first, make a map, then send the tanks forward.”

Besides...

Schweitzer smiled, his eyes widening.

“We have the Yaken.”

The Yaken. I nodded.

The Yaken were good at finding their way. They could detect anomalies by scent before encountering them, so they would be able to make a great contribution to this war.

“Very well.”

“...Really?”

I nodded without much doubt.

Schweitzer actually looked puzzled by my approval.

“Just like that? Really?”

Judging by his bewildered questions, he had already proposed something similar to several superiors.

They had probably treated him like a madman the moment he so much as started saying “Mekken.”

“Yes. I trust your military talent.”

Schweitzer's talent was extraordinary.

He could have been a hero if his personality hadn't been so broken. On the other hand, without that broken personality, he probably wouldn't have gained his current abilities.

“We'll prepare for winter, then go to meet them in the spring.”

“...Ha! Sounds good!”

Schweitzer brushed his hair back in satisfaction.

It was practically the same as rubbing his scalp. He had so little hair left.

“Oh, by the way, that new medicine that's come out... I heard it can even let you reattach arms and legs... So, perhaps...”

I could guess what Schweitzer was hoping for.

Probably something that would remain impossible even in the distant future.

“Could it make hair grow agai...”

Bang!

The door flew open. Schweitzer's face puffed up with displeasure at being interrupted.

A communications soldier handed him a sheet of paper, saying it was an urgent report.

Schweitzer took it and read.

“They've bombed a western port?”

He looked a little surprised, but I remained calm.

“I see.”

“...You're not even surprised?”

Schweitzer frowned and crumpled the paper.

“Their moves are obvious. From now on, we'll counter enemy bombers with fighters.”

Air force doctrine. This was why I had trained pilots who could operate fighters at night.

My investments underpinned the air force, navy, and army alike.

I anticipated what you anticipated, and anticipated that you would anticipate me...

Well, rather than any of that, it was simply the privilege of knowing the future.

“...Maximilian. You know...”

But people who didn't know that about me...

“You always act as if you know everything.”

Sometimes they looked at me with these strange eyes.

Admiration, respect, and fear.

An expression as though they were facing someone with an all-powerful mind.

“...”

I looked steadily at Schweitzer.

“If I acted frightened, as though I didn't know what was happening...”

I twisted my lips.

“Would you all trust me and follow me?”

Schweitzer considered those words for a while, then burst into loud laughter.

He clapped and nodded repeatedly.

“Hah! You've got a point...”

Then, suddenly, his face grew serious, and he fell silent.

“Whew...”

He let out a long sigh.

He quietly smacked his lips.

Leaning back in his chair, he gazed outside at the falling snow.

“...Can I ask you a favor?”

He began in a strangely subdued tone.

It was a kind of voice I had never heard from him before.

“Always stay the way you are.”

He spoke while looking out over the winter scenery.

Beyond it, the Imperial Palace shimmered faintly.

“Don't grow corrupt. Don't get drunk on it. Don't bend...”

A sharp longing flickered in his eagle-like eyes, eyes that had seen countless people change.

“Even if you achieve the greatest success.”

Was he looking forward to the day he crossed Mekken, trampled enemy territory, and killed countless troops?

“Or suffer the most devastating failure.”

Or...

“Stay an Iron Man who never grovels...”

Was he simply asking me to safeguard his faith?

“...”

Schweitzer said no more.

With his mouth closed, he gazed out at the snow falling over the continent.

I answered with my gaze.

I looked out at the same place he did.