Chapter 309: Faith and Faith (3)

Music flowed through the Camp’s snow-white scenery. Watching the musicians prepare for their auditions, “Remil” of the Revolutionary Faction smiled.

They had been starving in the cold because they were subspecies of no use for labor. Now they had taken out their instruments again and were coming back to life.

“They’re good.”

“How many of them get picked?”

“Who knows? As many as the Acting Governor wants?”

“Whoa, all this for a music group?”

Imperial Guard members watched while smoking. Sometimes they even applauded.

Among them, Remil noticed one young member who looked particularly moved.

A possible recruit, perhaps. Someone who might escape the Empire’s brainwashing and join them.

“Remil.”

Suddenly, a man spoke from behind. Pulling his hat low, he handed Remil something.

“I’ve gotten all the key people out.”

The forged seal had been a great help.

“What about our superiors?”

“...For now, they’re just planning an escape. If those people go to Bolska, every last one of them really will die.”

Bolska. The far eastern edge.

The Revolutionary Faction had information about an unthinkable plan to slaughter people en masse with poison gas, something no human being should ever dare to do...

Just then...

“Hey!”

Someone from the Imperial Guard waved at Remil.

“Hart! What are you doing over there?”

“I was just on patrol.”

Remil approached. The man behind them had already disappeared, so Remil fiddled with the pistol at their waist and returned to the role of Imperial Guard member “Lehmann Hart.”

* * *

The Acting Governor’s residence in Yursled.

Rainer listened to the soft piano music echoing down the hallway.

“...Music really does make a difference.”

The air, the whole atmosphere of the residence, had changed since the pianist arrived.

Even in a place so cold, small, rough, and unfamiliar compared to the Empire, it somehow lent an air of old-world elegance.

“Indeed. Haha.”

His Imperial Guard subordinates followed, agreeing with him.

“Oh, right. Lady Runcelot is at the Camp again today.”

“Is House Runselot really interested in the Camp business...?”

“That would be worrying. There are already so many people trying to get their hands on Camps.”

Rainer slowed his steps and thought about Ezel.

Ezel Runselot. Maximilian Ebenholtz. The two had nearly become engaged, but their families’ circumstances had prevented it. Since then, there had been nothing else connecting them.

Old friends. Had they become nothing more and nothing less?

Or...

“Go and attend to your duties.”

“Yes, sir!”

Rainer dismissed his subordinates.

In the Acting Governor’s office, he took the scheduled call.

“Acting Governor Rainer speaking.”

He was informed that construction had begun on new detention facilities at Kebanov and two other sites in eastern Bolska. They would be operating before spring.

“Those who are of no use...”

He was therefore to sort out all the useless subspecies within Yursled and send them to Bolska. How they would be disposed of there was to be left to those in charge.

“Understood.”

Imperial Guard heavyweights such as Martin Himler, Kaido Hoess, Hagmunt Goring, and Alfred were mentioned. They used words like “trial operation,” “initial shipment,” and “inspection.”

In other words, they needed test subjects for a new process.

“Very well.”

Soon afterward, Rainer summoned the official responsible for managing the Camp, received a list, and signed a document as Acting Governor of Yursled.

* * *

Ezel toured the Camp alone. Many people wore shabby clothes, with whatever scraps of cloth they could find stuffed into their sleeves against the cold.

Among them, there might be merchants who had worked tirelessly to build their wealth, teachers who had devoted their lives to their students, and writers who loved literature.

Occupations the Empire considered utterly useless, lacking in labor value and productivity.

“Yursled is actually a paradise for subspecies. If they’re useful to the Empire, they get proper rations.”

The Imperial Guard member guiding her spoke. Their name was Klaus.

“Are any subspecies useful?”

Klaus chuckled at Ezel’s question.

“So they say. Dromon and Yaken are subspecies too, aren’t they? Though now they call them quasi-applicable bloodlines or something.”

She followed Klaus around the Camp.

She committed every corner to memory so she could draw up a floor plan.

“What’s that building?”

“...”

A long building stood right beside the railway. It had no windows, and its doors opened only onto the tracks.

The guard’s expression stiffened for a moment, but then Klaus smiled and answered.

“It’s where those selected for transfer to Bolska gather.”

She looked at it. There was no need to ask what would happen in Bolska. That was probably beyond the authority of an ordinary Imperial Guard member.

“...Thank you for showing me around.”

“Of course.”

Ezel turned away.

“Ah, Lady Runcelot!”

Klaus suddenly stepped after her.

“If you ever take charge of a Camp... please remember my name!”

With that, Klaus bowed deeply.

Ezel gave a bitter smile.

“Yes. I will.”

Later, in an alley on her way back...

Holding a warm cup of Yursled black tea in both hands, she spoke quietly.

“Important people will gather on the day of the musicians’ auditions.”

She spoke into a space that might or might not have held a listener.

“Security will be concentrated there. That means only a skeleton crew will remain at the Camp.”

If they planned to do anything, that would be the best time.

Then someone’s voice came from beyond the wall.

“We know the train schedule. The line leads to Bolska, but at a junction, it splits toward western and eastern Bolska.”

The west was under Imperial rule. The east belonged to Lobrus.

“If they go west, they’ll all...”

Remil trailed off.

“But if they go east, they should be able to survive.”

“...”

Ezel quietly took a sip of tea.

Lobrus would not welcome them, but it would not kill them either. Given its tendency to oppose everything about the Empire, it might even...

Transporting those the Empire considered worthless to the Empire’s enemy.

Even so, Ezel felt a weight settle on her.

“Please don’t worry.”

Remil’s voice lowered, as though they had read her mind.

“If believing that all people are equal, if holding to that belief to save them, is an act of betrayal against the nation...”

Ezel leaned against the wall.

“Then we will be the ones committing that betrayal. Not you, Ezel Runselot...”

* * *

The open auditions for musicians began. Rainer Wolf had announced that he was recruiting an ensemble to play at the Acting Governor’s residence, and many people had applied.

Anyone who passed would be treated as a special skilled worker, regardless of bloodline.

“What do you think?”

The auditorium had been cleared especially for the auditions. Looking around at the circular seating, the lights, and the stage curtains, Rainer nodded in satisfaction.

“Good.”

His subordinates and the administrative officials looked quite excited too.

“Acting Governor, some Imperial Guard officers are on their way now.”

Rainer Wolf had sent invitations to the Imperial Guard’s big shots.

Most had declined, saying they were busy. Only those below Rainer in rank were attending.

Some people apparently went to all sorts of lengths just to get acquainted with “that knight.” Well, people made their own luck.

“Get ready.”

“Yes, sir!”

Before long, not only Imperial Guard officers but also people from Yursled were shown to the audience seats. They were locals who helped him govern.

Rainer Wolf sat at the far left of the judges’ table. Ezel Runselot entered next, smiled faintly, and took the seat at the far right.

“Our thanks to Lady Ezel Runselot, who made these auditions possible.”

Loud applause swept through the room at Rainer’s words.

“Acting Governor, shall we begin?”

“No. There’s still one seat left.”

The audience was glancing at the remaining judge’s seat when...

Step.

An unusually loud footstep rang out from the auditorium entrance.

“Here he comes.”

Rainer smiled faintly. Everyone, including Ezel, turned toward the entrance.

Step.

A black suit. A neat shirt and tie. Simple clothing, but all the more immaculate for it.

He looked nothing like the other Imperial Guard members, covered in medals, epaulettes, and badges.

That was why no one could take their eyes off him.

Step.

Even the people of Yursled, whose country he had occupied, were no different. The sight of a face they ought to hate first took their breath away.

They felt admiration.

Step.

Maximilian Ebenholtz.

He had come here in person.

“It’s an honor.”

Rainer approached and offered his hand. Maximilian smiled and took it, as though this much courtesy was something he could gladly give.

“It’s been a while, Ezel.”

Maximilian stood beside her.

“...Yes. It has, Max.”

Ezel calmed her trembling heart and asked a question of her own.

“What brings you to Yursled?”

If Max was here, what about the operation over there?

“I have some business in the east, so I thought I’d stop by.”

He sat between Ezel and Rainer.

Rainer called to the host first.

“Let’s begin the auditions.”

Then, as though something had occurred to him, he offered a cigar.

“Ah, would you care for one?”

Max shook his head, saying he was fine. Rainer, on the other hand, clearly wanted one, but perhaps out of consideration, he held back and tucked it inside his jacket.

“Our first contestant.”

A résumé was placed in Maximilian’s hand. A violinist who had won several competitions. According to the Empire’s classification, however, a “subspecies.”

Step. Step.

The musician forced themself onto the stage on trembling legs and introduced themself.

“My name is Janusz Kowal.”

They seemed to have learned the introduction in the Imperial language.

But when no one responded, they could only breathe in short, wheezing gasps, unable to raise their bow. They looked about ready to faint.

“Please begin.”

Only after Ezel spoke did Janusz tuck the violin beneath their chin.

They let out a deep breath and closed their eyes.

...A melody began to flow.

Ezel’s heart, which had been pounding ever since Maximilian appeared, gradually slowed too.

It settled into a calm rhythm.

This was good.

She knew little about music, but that was how it felt, at least.

Strings. An instrument of lines. The sound flowing from those lines seemed to paint a picture...

Ezel suddenly looked at Maximilian’s profile. She was more concerned about him than about her own impressions.

An unreadable expression. As still as a blade, and just as dangerous.

Suddenly, she remembered the past.

A few years ago, before the war.

The days when they had investigated a serial killer named Pexi together and talked about the future.

Was this violin drawing her back to those days?

The future we imagined back then had somehow become the present, and now we sat in different places.

You, at the very top of the Empire...

Me, at your side.

Perhaps to deceive you.

“...Thank you.”

Meanwhile, the performance had ended.

Rainer Wolf studied Maximilian’s expression. It was flat and unreadable. Rainer spoke casually.

“Is that the best you can do?”

The interpreter translated. The musician’s shoulders sank.

Then Maximilian smiled.

“Very good.”

The musician gave a startled twitch. He had spoken in the language of Yursled.

“That was a fine performance. I’ve never heard this piece before. Is it your own composition?”

“Y-yes. It is.”

To Maximilian, it was good music.

A good composition.

He knew the violinist’s name.

‘Janusz Kowal.’

Before Maximilian’s regression, Janusz had been a renowned violinist, a talent who had left behind several masterpieces, but also a Mer disposed of by the Empire.

After Janusz’s death, their students had reconstructed the scores. Only then had those works been made public, restoring the recognition this tragically lost talent deserved.

Meeting someone like that right at the start made the trip worthwhile.

“The moment your bow leaves the strings is clean. Connecting notes is easy, but few people know how to end them. Most try to hold on to the sound and blur the ending, but you seem to know when to let go...”

At Maximilian’s high praise, Rainer belatedly changed his tune.

“Your best effort was pleasant to hear, but I thought you had even better in you.”

Ezel added her own praise.

“I enjoyed it. Such a warm sound. It felt as though you were painting a picture...”

Janusz left, repeating their thanks. Next came a cello, a viola, a flute, a clarinet, a soprano...

Maximilian assessed them all calmly and precisely.

Each time, Ezel studied his profile.

He never looked bored. He listened to every performance and called every musician by name.

“We’ll take a break.”

At a hand signal from Rainer, the host paused the auditions.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

Rainer left his seat. Probably to smoke. His hands had kept trembling from withdrawal.

Ezel took the opportunity to whisper to Max.

“Max.”

“Yes?”

Max’s gentle reply made Ezel feel as she had in the old days. Maximilian’s gentleness had not changed.

“The musicians here are better than you’d expect, aren’t they? Even compared to the Empire...”

“They are. Yursled has always been famous for music.”

He spoke as he sorted the résumés.

“...”

Ezel laced her fingers together. She composed her expression, pretending nothing was wrong.

Then...

“Max. Do you happen to know about the Camps in Bolska?”

She put a question to Maximilian.

“I do. Why?”

“Oh, it’s nothing much...”

She had faith.

Faith that, despite everything, we were different from the Empire.

Faith in the Maximilian of the past. In you, who had always been so gentle and soft.

And so, faith that some other villain had done this without any of us knowing.

“There have been some disturbing rumors lately.”

“Rumors?”

Maximilian tilted his head. Ezel glanced around, then whispered in his ear.

“At the Camps in Bolska...”

She told him the rumors.

That the Imperial Guard was using some kind of poison gas. That it might be building facilities where people would be gathered and slaughtered to dispose of subspecies.

Clear truths disguised as rumors.

“I hear things like that sometimes. What do you think?”

“...”

Maximilian gave a small smile. His smile settled into something calm. His gaze turned toward her.

“...It was me, Ezel.”

At that moment, Ezel’s hands went rigid.

For a moment, she thought she had misheard.

Surely she had. She tried to smile and ask him again, but...

“The one who submitted that proposal.”

That was Maximilian’s answer.

He held Ezel’s frozen gaze for a long time.