Translator: KJ

Imperial Regular Army, 7th Armored Grenadier Brigade, frontline command. The border region adjacent to the Eastern Alliance's 'Krasnaya'.

Inside the rear bunker, walled in by blast barriers and reinforced concrete, the cool, dry air hung heavy and still.

Chzzkt— Wheeeeen—

Imperial Regular Army Lieutenant 'Adel' sat in the communications control room with a headset on, absorbed in his work. He was scanning the enemy nation's external frequency bands, intercepting the mana waves drifting through the air, and transcribing the encrypted communications.

Wheeeeen— Beep— Whirr—.

The mana wave receiver, the「Aether-Stimme」, blinked endlessly.

Adel kept scrawling down the cascading signals with his pen, one after another, without pause.

"Haaaaah~"

The drawn-out yawn from the seat right beside him shattered the silence. It was Lieutenant 'Bernhardt', his classmate from the Military Academy.

"......Hey. Take it easy, man."

Bernhardt muttered, his combat boots propped up on the desk.

"That kind of crap, you just pawn off on the underlings. Why are you breaking your back over it?"

"I've gotta clear it all by end of day."

Hundreds of records piled up like a mountain every single day. His job was to pick out the suspicious or noteworthy passages from among them.

"Hey. Just stamp it 'No notable items' and shove it in the shredder. That's a pro tip. Write it down."

Bernhardt snorted.

"Those bastards are just yapping about what they had for lunch or what tomorrow's weather's gonna be like. Why the hell are you sitting up all night reading that shit?"

He waved his hand dismissively and picked up his own console.

"More importantly, I've tapped into something interesting, you know?"

He twisted the military receiver's frequency until he caught the trendy sports broadcast on the enemy nation's civilian channel.

"Their horse-racing commentary is fucking insane. The way the announcer loses his mind is just hilarious."

──Kweeng! Kvartkan Kiorien! Kiorien! Kiorieeeeeen!!

Just as the shriek-laden eastern language was blaring out.

Bang. The iron door swung open and a gust of cold air rushed in. The two of them whipped around and shot to their feet.

"Loyalty!"

"Loyalty!"

A perfectly sharp salute. It was Lieutenant Colonel Eaton of the 7th Armored Grenadier Brigade.

"Lieutenant Bernhardt. What was that noise just now?"

Eaton's sharp gaze bored through Bernhardt.

"That, we were trying to find out if there were any hidden secret frequencies, sir."

Bernhardt fumbled out the excuse in a panic. Eaton turned his stony face toward Adel.

"Anything of note?"

"Sir. No meaningful activity detected as of yet."

This was the easternmost frontline border. Especially in this area, it wasn't only the Eastern Alliance, but tribes coiled up in the rugged mountain ranges, swarming everywhere.

The fact that they controlled monsters and dabbled in grotesque sorcery served as a convenient pretext for stationing troops along the border as a matter of course.

"......."

Eaton glared at Bernhardt in silence, then turned on his heel and walked out of the barracks.

Bang.

The moment the door slammed shut.

"Heh. That half-breed bastard's putting on airs again, like always."

Bernhardt muttered, almost spitting the words out.

"Hey, but you know that bastard? There's some weird rumor going around lately. You've heard it too, right?"

It was the natural progression. Eaton was mixed-blood, his maternal line being 'Zerphan'.

"That rumor he's a reactionary. They say he's a stooge of the revolutionary forces. Word is he backs the Zerpha's Republican Faction."

Bernhardt chuckled with absolute conviction. Adel clenched his jaw and gripped his pen tight.

"Watch your mouth."

"......What?"

"Zerphan mixed-bloods are not in violation of the「Imperial Citizenship Law」, and they're guaranteed the same rights and treatment as Arans by statute."

Faced with Adel's textbook rebuttal, Bernhardt cocked his head silently. With a blank expression, he twisted his lips upward.

"Heh. Watch my mouth?"

He rose from his seat, walked over, and started flicking Adel's cheek with his finger, tap— tap—, sneering all the while.

"Well, well~ Adel. You've grown up, huh? Little piece of shit."

He grabbed Adel by the collar and yanked him up, growling.

"You think just 'cause we're the same rank, you bastard, we're the same? I was supposed to go to the Imperial Guard, you know. Only stayed in the Regular Army 'cause of my dad~ Guys like you and me are in different leagues, different fucking leagues."

"......Then you should've gone to the Imperial Guard."

In an instant, Bernhardt's face stiffened.

"Hey. What the fuck did you just say? Say it again."

As Bern⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠hardt was glaring at Adel from inches away, breathing hard through his nose.

"Say it again, you fucking bastard!"

Wheeeee─.

A lazy whistle drifted in.

"Excuse me~?"

The voice was familiar. Bernhardt jumped in shock and let go of the collar, and both of them hastily saluted.

"Loyalty!"

"Lo⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠yalty!"

It was Major Goetz. An officer with bulging eyeballs and curly hair combed straight back, leaving an impression that was somehow both grotesque and sinister.

"What you just said. Did you mean it?"

Goetz approached with the corners of his mouth turning up, as if intrigued. Bernhardt swallowed hard.

"Um, Major, sir. That was......."

"No, no. It's fine, speak freely."

"That......."

Goetz patted Bernhardt's shoulder lightly.

"Lieutenant Bern. I met your father during my last leave. He was quite proud of you, posted out here at the border."

"Ah...... I see, sir."

Bern's lips squirmed.

His family was a noble house with considerable sway even within the military. And Goetz was the type who never missed such connections, cultivating them meticulously.

"Well......."

Bern glanced sidelong at Adel and smirked.

"Did you have something else you wished to tell me, sir?"

"Just now. Lieutenant Colonel Eaton stopped by, didn't he?"

"Ah, yes, sir."

"About that rumor. Tell me more about it, in detail."

Goetz wore a sly smile and draped an arm around Bernhardt's shoulder.

"Not in a place like this. Somewhere a bit warmer."

"Yes, yes, sir! Understood!"

Bern nodded readily and followed Goetz out. Nor did he forget to shoot Adel a sidelong glare.

This is the difference between you and me, the look said, dripping with superiority.

Bang.

The heavy iron door slammed shut. Adel let out a short sigh and sank back into the chair before the receiver.

─Beep. Beep.

Through the headset, only the meaningless mechanical sounds continued to repeat.

Adel pressed his weary eyes hard, and just as he was reaching for the switch to fully shut down the worth⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠less frequency band.

"......?"

His finger froze.

─Beep. Beep-blip. Beep.

A subtle variation had crept in. It wasn't the white noise of a misaligned frequency.

These were fragments of mana, deliberately sliced fine and arranged in a regular pattern by someone.

"......!"

He cranked the receiver's output to its maximum. The hand gripping his pen began to move frantically.

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Onto the paper, the irregular bursts drifting through the air spilled out, transmuted into letters and symbols. He scraped up every last trace of that suspicious mana and recorded it in the document.

* * *

What was the meaning of Sentinel in the Empire?

Hannah sometimes pondered such things. When she walked the streets in uniform, children's eyes followed her with envious admiration, and adults stepped aside to show their reverence.

Even politicians and the powerful didn't dare treat Sentinel lightly, and even the most ordinary roadside eateries paid her every courtesy.

But the weight of Sentinel couldn't be limited to such benefits and special treatment alone.

These days, Hannah was in the middle of seeking ou⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠t that 'meaning'.

"Is this year's salary structure actually like this?"

In Sentinel's lounge. Hannah leaned in between the papers her peers Royce and Dare Tan had spread out.

"Yeah, that's right."

"Come on, it hasn't even been officially announced yet. They're paying us this much?"

"Hah. This is why kids who grew up with nothing......."

Dare Tan clicked his tongue, but Hannah's gaze was fixed on the numbers on the paper.

"Anyway. This base salary is confirmed, and the performance bonus is on top of that."

A first-year Knight's pure base salary was one and a half million Imperial Dollars a year.

That alone was extraordinary, but the real perks lay elsewhere.

"Wow......."

Hannah was momentarily speechless.

The ceiling on office budgets used to retain staff had been drastically raised.

The cap on 'activity expenses', which required no receipts for documentation, had also been raised.

And all of this was just the baseline.

In other words, depending on results and performance, a Knight's personal budget could expand to more than double this amount.

The capital had nearly ballooned compared to previous years, but it certainly wasn't treatment handed out for free.

Ding──!

Just then, Hannah's terminal chimed. It was an urgent call from an informant she had planted.

Today was the day to execute the mission Hannah had been tracking all this time.

Her face turned grave.

"I'm heading out first. Something important's come up."

"......What's that supposed to mean? Just go, dumbass."

"You barge in like you own the place and then say you're leaving—"

She bolted out of the knight order at once.

Together with five armed Operations Officers waiting in the parking lot, she got into a vehicle and sped off, arriving at the 29th District.

In front of what looked like some kind of parts factory.

At a glance it looked ordinary, but her informant had infiltrated this place.

"Let's go."

Hannah stepped out of the car. As she walked into the factory with the Operations Officers in tow, she shouted.

"W-what's going on. Who are you people—"

"Sentinel! Everyone stay where you are and put your hands above your heads!"

The Operations Officers subdued the factory workers.

Hannah swept her gaze around the interior as she walked. With her hand resting on the sword at her hip, she reached the manager's office.

"Um, K-Knight, ma'am. What brings you here......?"

On the wall of this room was her informant's mark. A very faint trace of cigarette ash.

Hannah drew her sword.

Slash──!

The mana-wreathed blade cleaved through the wall. Beyond the collapsed plywood and concrete, a hidden room was revealed.

"......Hah."

Hannah furrowed her brow. Even at a glance, it was packed with suspicious high-performance eavesdropping equipment and communication devices.

"W-wait, please! Th-these are just equipment necessary for our factory's operations! For contacting our business partners......."

The factory manager stammered out his excuses, his face ashen. Hannah didn't even bother to respond. She simply reported the scene to her superior.

"It's the truth! Knight, ma'am!"

"Save your excuses for later."

Hannah gave a faint smile and stepped outside. The Operations Officers slapped cuffs on the factory's executives, and the other workers dropped to their knees, terrified.

How much time had passed? Perhaps half an hour.

──Thud.

The moment those footsteps echoed at the factory entrance, the air froze.

──Thud.

Even the unruly workers fell silent, and the manager who had been pouring out endless excuses held his breath.

—Thud.

All because of the one person who had just arrived.

Maximilian Ebenholtz.

"Sir Knight."

Hannah lowered her head in a small bow of respect. Maximilian acknowledged her greeting with a light nod, then went up to the manager's office and confirmed the evidence beyond the broken wall.

"How is it?"

"Secure it."

"Yes, sir."

He came back down and slowly swept his gaze over each of the factory people's faces.

There was an edge of a blade buried in that look.

"S-sir. Sir Knight! There must be some kind of misunderstanding! Those machines, they......."

Maximilian drew the pistol from his hip.

──.

A shot fired without hesitation. The mana-compressed bullet silently pierced clean through the center of the manager's forehead. The corpse toppled backward.

But it didn't end there. Maximilian twisted the muzzle slightly and shattered the temple of another executive trembling behind the manager.

──.

Two people were gone, and two corpses were left behind.

Every worker in the factory clamped their hands over their mouths.

"Mana Communication Devices without registered serial numbers."

Maximilian lowered the muzzle and recited in a dry voice.

"Cannot be owned by any unauthorized individual or entity. Grounds for Summary Judgment."

It was the newly revised「National Security and Communications Control Act」. He aimed the muzzle at the forehead of the last executive ─ an Ezenheim.

He gazed down at the man trembling, drained of all color, then slowly lowered the muzzle.

"Hannah Usar."

"Sir."

"You don't need to report every little thing like this to me each time it happens."

His golden eyes met Hannah's squarely.

"Follow your own instincts and decisions."

It was an order to bear the responsibility she ought to bear, as a Knight of Sentinel, as one who wielded the Empire's authority.

"Whatever the outcome, Sentinel will shoulder it in full."

Hannah understood the weight of those words.

Now, she had to cast off the hesitation and fear that had been carved deep into her bones as a commoner.

She drew in a short breath.

"Yes, sir."

Feeling Maximilian's gaze still resting on her, she gripped her sword.

And she swung it.

Slash──!

The man's head sailed up into the air, and red blood soaked the cement floor of the factory.

"I'll have the rest taken into custody."

"Crimes are weighed differently. But the criterion is not the nature of the offense, it's-"

"Aran."

Hannah's answer. Maximilian did not tell her whether she was correct. He simply turned, without a word, and walked out of the factory.

* * *

I assigned a new staff member to Hannah.

A Yaken trained at the Genen Branch Office. A hunting hound capable of identifying the unique scent of an Ezenheim.

Yes, Hannah was earning my trust.

She was becoming the kind of person I wanted her to be.

It was a change that had to happen. Before my Regression, Hannah had been betrayed by an Ezenheim and met what was probably a gruesome end.

──Knock knock.

The office door opened with a light knock.

"Sir Knight."

An Operations Officer approached and placed a manila envelope on the table.

"As you instructed, the situation report on the Imperial Regular Army's 7th Armored Grenadier Brigade."

The Eastern Border Region. Around this time, before my Regression, a fairly significant incident had broken out there.

"......It appears there are quite serious problems within their ranks. There have also been a string of suicides among low-ranking officers......."

The military, then as now, was a brutally closed-off institution. The Eastern Border Region in particular had bee⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠n a military post for two hundred years running.

Which meant the odds were high that it was very, very, very contaminated.

For the sake of the future Eastern Front, it needed a proper overhaul.

"......Keep watching."

There were quite a few persons of interest lurking in the Eastern Border garrison.

I'd take what was worth taking, throw out what was worth throwing out, leave alone what was worth leaving alone.

"And keep a close eye on whether any petitions come in from over there."

If there was any soldier suffering injustice or being crushed under the chain of command, their final option would be the knight order.

Truly, the same went for every citizen of the Empire.

Every wronged person, at the very, very end, knowing it would never be delivered, or perhaps desperately praying it would, would cast a thread of hope into a petition, and that place where they cast it was none other than the knight order.

"Yes, sir. Understood."

We couldn't grant every one of their wishes, but if we couldn't grant at least some of them on occasion, the knight order's standing wouldn't hold.

~~~

Join our Discord server: https://discord.gg/cdZPxPVrXW