A laboratory at Prozen National University.
Professor Jean Pierre had received a certain piece of information from Akenzi, the Departnt Chief of the Prozen Central Intelligence Bureau.
"...There's a radical student group called the「Crystal Society」."
He lit a cigar, brow furrowed.
"Apparently it started as a small club that pledged itself in the basent of this very university."
Crystal Society. Crystal Society. Jean Pierre repeated the unfamiliar na several tis under his breath.
"Ah. Vaguely, I do rember now."
Those students who, every ti he gave a lecture, would sit in the very back row and hurl hostile questions at the Ruling Social Party, and who staged fierce protests whenever the party announced new policies.
"Those students..."
Whoooosh. The blizzard outside seeped in through the cracks in the window. Jean Pierre stood up briefly and shut the window.
"Lately, the「Crystal Society」's scale has swelled at an abnormal rate. It's no longer at the level of a club; it's begun to take on the form of an organization. They outright purchased a building."
"A club grew that powerful?"
Akenzi nodded.
"One of our agents assud a false identity and made contact with their lower ranks, engaging them in conversation."
The agents had slowly infiltrated their base and observed their movents.
"They kept their mouths absolutely shut regarding the recent bombing of Minister Louis Marceau... but that man, 'Felix Renoir', they clearly seed to know about."
The agent then investigated their funding.
Every month, a courier delivered a certain box to the「Crystal Society」. It was delivered only to their leader, Clara Magal.
"I barely managed to obtain this single slip."
Akenzi pulled out a crumpled scrap of paper and set it down on the table.
[ This is Felix. I hope you put this to good use. If there is anything you lack, please do not hesitate to let know. ]
The mont he read through those short lines.
"...Wait!"
Jean Pierre clapped a hand to his forehead as if struck by lightning. Akenzi flinched in surprise and stubbed out his cigarette.
"What, what is it?"
"Here! This!"
Jean Pierre opened a drawer and pulled out that very 'naless answer sheet'.
The writing of soone who had perfectly predicted the political situation in Zerpha, naly the Empire's coexistence and Crown Prince Alonso's success.
"Take a look."
Jean Pierre and Akenzi placed the answer sheet and the note side by side, comparing the handwriting.
The note contained only a few lines, but it was enough to confirm the distinctive, elegant penmanship.
"The handwriting is identical."
A detective's intuition flickered through his mind.
Felix was the「Crystal Society」's financier. Perhaps even more than that.
No, that was certainly the case.
"Akenzi. What do you think?"
Felix Renoir.
The genius who had left behind the naless answer sheet, and in Jean Pierre's estimation, the pri suspect in the assassination.
"Can you keep watching the「Crystal Society」?"
At his request, Akenzi quietly nodded.
* * *
The heart of the Empire, battered by freezing blizzards.
The Zestfall intellectual coalition had been effectively dismantled. The Special Imperial Guard Unit had investigated their backgrounds down to the last detail and thrown everyone who was not of pure Aran blood into prison.
Captain Hans had played a significant role in that process.
Maximilian had provided Hans with the intelligence capabilities of the Genen Branch Office, and Hans had ferreted out every last dissident like a rabid dog. For those rits, his promotion to Major had been confird.
Naturally, this put him at odds with his direct superior, Lieutenant Colonel Lorenz, as they now competed over results.
Maximilian had engineered division and checks within the Guard Unit, and planted one man inside.
That one man would soon swell to dozens, then hundreds.
Maximilian had also borrowed Johann's pen to propose a new policy to the Emperor.
「Special asures Act for Levying Surcharges on Violators of the Imperial Citizenship Law and Providing Relief to Poor Aran」
This legislation shall impose punitive surcharges on officials, doctors, lawyers, mages, researchers, and others of mixed bloodline who have been dismissed from their posts or stripped of their qualifications under the Imperial Citizenship Law, and shall allocate those funds to transparently support lower-class citizens of pure Aran descent.
A bill to collect fines from those dismissed under the「Imperial Citizenship Law」and use them to support the Empire's Aran underclass.
This was a law that would have been enacted even without Maximilian, but in the life before his regression, the Special Imperial Guard Unit and those noble bastards had devoured every last coin of that money. This ti, he would monitor it rigorously and distribute it with as little leakage as possible.
"──Next! Next, hurry up! Present your identification!"
Rustle, rustle.
The lower districts of the capital's slums, where heavy snow fell without end. And not only there; stoves and food supplies were delivered to the barren lower-class residential areas throughout the west, east, and north.
"H-here you go..."
"Sara Fischer. Confird. Take it ho and just press this red button; the fire cos on imdiately. It's loaded with more than enough fuel to last you the entire winter, so don't skimp on it, and absolutely do not damage it!"
A mass-production stove developed at Lorenzo Academy. Their design philosophy was built on the assumption that people could not be trusted.
In other words, if anyone tried to forcibly disassemble or tear the stove apart to sell its components, the internal Mana Circuit would tangle and break, and the fuel tank was integrated as a single unit, making it structurally impossible to extract the Mana Stone fuel separately and fence it on the black market.
"This Aran al voucher can only be used at distribution centers when presented with your personal identification, so don't lose it."
"Y-yes, yes. Thank you so much..."
"These are given exclusively to Aran subjects, so keep a close watch on your surroundings! Make sure no suspicious people get close to your children!"
"Y-yes, yes..."
The lower-class residents cradled the curious-looking stoves and al vouchers against their chests, each heading ho with smiles blooming on their faces.
Whoooooosh!
Even amid the raging blizzard, the stoves glowed with a blue warmth, and the number of those who froze to death during the Empire's winter dropped dramatically.
Now, as a new year dawned, the Empire was slowly but surely stepping ever deeper.
.......
Secret invitations on the finest parchnt were dispatched to several generals of the regular Imperial army.
「Imperial Regint Banquet Invitation」
It was a New Year's dinner hosted by Maximilian.
The sa key figures from last year had been invited, but this ti, there was a special stipulation.
[ Those of you who have received this invitation are permanent guests of honor. At this banquet, you may bring along one fellow officer who shares your convictions. ]
"Hmm..."
Thanks to this, Major General Maut found himself in deep deliberation.
This was the final crucial event of the year. "Guest of honor" was a title as pleasant to see as it was to hear, but the fact that he could bring only one companion weighed on him.
"Just one fellow officer to bring along..."
Major General Maut had already ford an informal faction called the "Genen Society", centered around the commanders who had fought alongside him in last year's Genen suppression operation. The Genen suppression was a source of great pride for them. The generals from that circle would surely have received this invitation as well.
Ring ring ring-
Just then, the terminal on his desk chid.
"Hello. Ah, yes. Lieutenant General Litruman, sir. Ha ha."
Maut rose from his seat and answered the call warmly, gazing out the window at the snow-covered parade grounds.
"Another year has flown by just like that. I've heard the news. Congratulations, sir."
Lieutenant General Litruman was riding high these days.
He had essentially been a political general who'd stepped back from the front lines, just waiting for retirent with nothing left to hold onto. But when Empire Point was revived through Maximilian's financial investnt, the position of Empire Point's Headmaster suddenly rocketed into prominence as a key post within the military.
"Yes. Yes. Ah, our training is also being conducted in a very rigorous and combat-oriented manner."
Maximilian placed great importance on discipline and training. Rumors were rife that he occasionally bestowed rewards upon units with outstanding training records.
The generals were tightening discipline precisely so they could secure their connection to Maximilian.
"Then shall we gather soti before the banquet for a discussion? Yes, yes. Honestly, there's no military event more important than the banquet these days."
「Imperial Regint Banquet」
What had been rely a young knight's dinner invitation just one year ago had now beco the most intimate center of power among the regular Imperial army's high command.
"Yes. Then... hm? Lilac Vita? No, you managed to get an invitation there? Ah, so he gave it to you."
And so, from here on, they would build their own cartel of their own accord.
The eting that day would beco the pride of a lifeti, the al that day would beco a joy never to be forgotten, and the gift that day would beco an heirloom passed down through generations.
"Yes. Then, with gratitude. I shall see you that day."
And yet, 'he', who single-handedly orchestrated all of this...
...existed beyond a veil of darkness.
* * *
The Imperial Palace, situated at the very heart of the Empire.
This place was resplendent in all four seasons. That was no figure of speech. Whether blizzards raged or storms lashed outside, the Imperial Palace was a truly magical space, where every mont existed as a spring day unbeholden to any season.
"...Lord Ebenholtz, this way."
I attended that wondrous palace today.
It was to give testimony regarding the reputation of a certain 'candidate'.
Creeeeeak.
The Imperial butler opened the door. I stepped inside. Unlike the splendid exterior, the interior was an ordinary office, with two palace officials seated across from .
"Welco, Lord Ebenholtz."
One of them gestured to an empty chair.
"Please, have a seat."
I sat down without a word. I crossed my legs and raised an eyebrow. A gesture telling them to speak first.
I had co here not as a knight, but as an Ebenholtz, and the etiquette of an Ebenholtz noble was inherently this way.
The level of decorum and manners I had cultivated on my own was exceedingly high, but I did not waste it on re officials.
"Yes. As you've likely surmised already."
The officials did not seem particularly bothered.
"We wish to ask you about the qualifications and public reputation of the Knight Commander candidate, Anton."
The day was drawing near.
The Sentinel Knight Commander's term had already ended, and it was ti for a new face to step in.
"First, Lord Ebenholtz. This concerns matters during Deputy Commander Anton's tenure."
One investigator asked the questions, while the other began transcribing the conversation.
"Deputy Commander Anton pushed for the appointnt of commoner-born talent within the knight order, and there has been a notable increase in knight re-examinations for commoners compared to before his tenure. What are your thoughts on this?"
Anton was a reformist. When he had beco Deputy Commander over a decade ago, he appointed a number of commoners with outstanding talent and records as knights, and they had now beco proper pillars of the Sentinel.
I answered plainly.
"Deputy Commander Anton is a man who believes in human potential. He likely thought that commoners should be given the sa opportunities as nobles."
The official raised an eyebrow.
"I see. And what does Lord Ebenholtz think of that aspect of Candidate Anton?"
The investigator turned a page. He seed to have prepared a separate script.
"I haven't given it much thought, to be honest."
"Then allow to be direct. There are unsettling rumors that Candidate Anton harbors discontent toward the Empire's policies, including the class system."
A montary gleam flickered behind the official's round spectacles.
"Particularly since the enactnt of the「Imperial Citizenship Law」, there appears to be a pattern of conflicting opinions within the Sentinel knight order."
And indeed there was. A noble knight would arrest soone, a commoner knight would demand a re-examination, and then the noble would march to the commoner's office, voices rising on both sides.
"There is considerable internal testimony suggesting that all of this unrest stems from Candidate Anton's tacit protection. What are your thoughts?"
It was a provocative question. I could see what sort of fra those in the palace who opposed Anton had constructed.
I answered briefly.
"I cannot know what lies in another man's heart. Anton himself is a fallen noble, practically of commoner origin, so he would naturally be more inclined to look after commoners."
"...Mm. Regarding that point, actually."
The official opened his mouth with a slight smile.
"The truth is, Deputy Commander Anton, the candidate, has stated, 'I beca Deputy Commander with nothing to my na. Having done it myself, I believe that if commoners are given the opportunity, they are fully capable.' What are your thoughts?"
That much was bullshit.
Not because I was mindful of the listening ears of the palace, but because it was sothing I could not help but reject on the basis of my own personal convictions.
"A delusion."
I stated flatly.
The official asked again.
"A delusion, you say?"
"Deputy Commander Anton is laboring under the delusion that talent like his walks the wharves of harbors, the streets of marketplaces, or the sewers of slums."
"To dismiss it as a re delusion, wouldn't the issues of ho environnt and education also be significant factors?"
"...The kind of talent I'm speaking of isn't like that."
I looked at the official.
"The bar is hundreds of tis higher than what a commoner like you would imagine."
The official's fingertips trembled.
Pronunciation and accent. Habits ingrained in the body. The condition of the skin, including calluses. The movent of the eyes.
This official was a commoner.
No matter how many years he spent trying to wash away his origins, he could not deceive my eyes.
Because I, and the house of Ebenholtz, was the very embodint of true nobility.
"Might Lord Ebenholtz be willing to share what that standard is?"
He asked back quietly.
Gladly.
I raised a finger.
"If one can learn mana, swordsmanship, or academics, then one simply can learn them. That is all."
The official listened in silence.
"If one can understand them, then one simply can understand them. That is all."
This was a conviction I had forged through my own efforts, reading and studying and comprehending and absorbing papers and philosophy in my own study.
"My standard goes far beyond that, to whether one can, as an individual, exert influence upon the currents of this world... upon so vast a maelstrom, as an 'individual'."
The war that would arrive before long. For the survival of humanity, a tide of history harder than anything would co crashing in, and within that despair, could they hold fast to themselves?
Could they overco the fated waves of this world and stand beside to defend humanity's great cause?
That was what talent ant to .
"Deputy Commander Anton was certainly one such person. But that kind of talent appears perhaps once in a generation."
I looked into the official's eyes.
"Soone like Anton was rather a natural inevitability. Talent like that is ultimately discovered by its era. But right now, his own temperant is causing it to go to waste."
In tis of chaos like these, his gentle heart was nothing but a handicap.
It helped neither himself, nor the knight order, nor this world.
"..."
The official fell silent for a mont, then nodded as though he understood.
"Then, allow to ask."
The politics ahead would be an agonizingly long ordeal for Anton. The nobles of the palace would resort to every trick imaginable to tear him apart.
Even so, Anton would never step down of his own accord. He was a man of gentle temperant, but he was no coward who would abandon the convictions he had upheld and flee.
"Does Lord Ebenholtz believe that Candidate Anton is a suitable individual to serve as Knight Commander of the Sentinel?"
I looked at the official. The official looked back at .
"He is..."
I drew out the words as if deliberating, but my mind had been made up from the start.
"Highly unfit, in my opinion."
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