Translator: KJ

These days, talk of war came up constantly within the Sentinel Knight Order.

War, war, war.

For knights quick to read the political climate, it was something they had vaguely sensed lay in the "not-so-distant future", but now that Valkania had actually launched an invasion of another nation, a complicated, subtle tension hung over the Order.

In truth, the Western War wasn't all that far in the past either. It was just that most of the knights who now formed the backbone of the Sentinel had been children at the time, or hadn't even been born yet, so the weight of real combat was bound to feel unfamiliar to them.

"...We just need to focus on our own work."

Hannah, on the other hand, cut off the operations officers' murmuring without hesitation.

These days she had no time to rest.

Rooting out and arresting violators of the「Imperial Citizenship Law」, getting on the trail of the Revolutionary forces hidden underground, and capturing the foreign spies who had cunningly seeped into the Empire and handing them over to the branch division. A brutal daily routine.

In a time of devotion to the Empire and to the Aran─ there was no time to spare for the affairs of other nations.

Knock, knock-

Just as Hannah was about to start dra⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠fting a new report, a visitor arrived.

A knight came through the door. Looking at his still-youthful face, Hannah raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Lukas. What is it?"

Lukas Limperck. His father, a Judge, supposedly had deep ties with Maximilian, or something like that. At any rate, a new recruit worth keeping an eye on.

"Ah. It's nothing too serious..."

Lukas looked terrible. The skin under his eyes was sunken and hollow, as if he'd gone several nights without sleep, and his frame looked gaunt.

Hannah guessed the reason at once.

"I came to ask for some advice on Active Trace Analysis."

Active Traces. The wailing wall that new knights are the first to run into.

Hannah rested her chin in her hand for a moment.

"Active Traces are... something you're really supposed to figure out on your own, banging your head against a wall. You won't get a feel for it until you go sit in on some related lectures at the Magic Tower or the university."

Hannah herself had run back and forth to the university like a madwoman learning Active Traces. She'd gotten maybe three or four hours of sleep a day, and even that had been short naps in the car.

"Yes. I've already applied to audit lectures at the Sentio Magic Tower."

Lukas answered in a dejected voice.

Hannah looked at him steadily for a while, then let out a faint sigh.

"All right then, go and wait for now. I've got some materials I used back in the day. I'll organize them and pass them along to you later."

"...Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

'Lukas and I are, broadly speaking, part of the "Maximilian line", and above all, the Sentinel is the Sentinel in the end.'

"Thank you! Thank you so much, Senior!"

Lukas left the office with a face as bright as if he'd been handed the w⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠hole world.

"...This takes me back. To my own days."

A year had already passed, but it felt like maybe three.

That was a sign of just how dense those days had been.

Hannah opened the deep drawer of her desk and pulled out a thick, bound notebook.

"..."

It was a copy of the Active Trace Analysis case files Maximilian had once tossed her way. In every margin were the explanations and analytical logic Hannah had crammed in herself, shedding tears of blood as she wrote. A kind of "secret-knowledge notebook".

But the reason she couldn't hand this notebook over right this minute was...

[ This is fucking hard ugh fuck my head's seriously gonna split open~~ ]

[ How the hell did he even do this, crazy monster ]

Tucked into every corner of the notebook were these raw exclamations, of course, and on top of that—

[ Why the hell is that asshole Jacob trying to frame me... ]

[ Jacob you fuck after everything I did for you ]

[ Hah, life is fucked-up, seriously. I want to drop everything and go home ]

—the dregs of emotion she'd scrawled when she couldn't bear the extreme stress, and trivial laments about her lot in life, all laid bare.

"Ahem."

It was proof of just how madly she'd thrown herself into her work, with no line drawn between her daily life and her job. But as a record to show a junior, it didn't exactly look impressive.

Scratch. Scratch.

She erased every bit of the personal chatter, leaving cleanly behind only Maximilian's brilliant derivations of results and the logical interpretations she'd added, refining it into a textbook.

[Active Traces Binder for New Knights]

The thing she completed that way was almost too good to waste on Lukas alone.

It might be good to hand out to new recruits later, too.

"Operations Officer Dossent. Could you pass this along to Knight Lukas?"

"Yes! Understood, ma'am."

After handing the secret-knowledge notebook to the operations officer, Hannah massaged her stiff neck and stepped over to the window. Without her noticing, a red sunset had settled in like mist.

Beyond the glass wall, the Empire's capital. And the red clouds drifting above it.

Hannah suddenly felt a vague emotion rising from deep in her chest.

Where are we, and where is the Empire, heading?

What kind of world will end up coming for us?

"...It'll all change on its own anyway."

Honestly, even the time to think about it felt like a waste.

Hannah returned to her desk and spread out the new files.

* * *

The information operation to wreck the Valkanian alliance proceeded obliquely, and carefully. There's no need for me to step in and wield the blade myself in such delicate agitation. After all, I have the finest expert in this field, Johann Georg Goetze.

First, I scraped together every detail of the past conduct of "Azento", Valkania's de facto ruler and Prime Minister. I dug through Valkania's internal political documents, press reports, even unofficial high-society gossip, and compiled a full record of every remark he'd made across his entire political career.

──[ Prime Minister Azento's Remarks Concerning the Empire ]──

1. Statements such as, "So long as the threat called the Empire exists, our national defense must be strengthened, even if we must endure the bone-grinding pain of it." Regards the Empire as a potential enemy state.

2. Has consistently criticized, in private, the southwestern royals who submitted to the Empire. Referring to the past dynasties that, cowed by Imperial pressure, ceded their territory, he mocked them as "cowards who knelt before the Empire".

3. In particular, has repeatedly shown a fundamental loathing and negative view toward royals who groveled before the Emperor and the nobles of the Imperial Palace...

───────

"Now we just need to twist and revise the wording."

Johann tapped the tip of his pen on a single paragraph from one of Prime Minister Azento's past speeches that had run in a Valkanian state newspaper.

"This word here. It's a metaphorical expression peculiar to the Valkanian language, and it carries a very multivalent nuance. Since the word order differs from the Empire's common tongue to begin with, we add a little 'creative mistranslation' during the translation process."

Johann's pen nib scratched its way across the news article.

[Original: We must be wary of compromise like that of the old dynasties that settle into comfort under the Empire's shadow.]

[Revised: I loathe the servility of the contemptible nobles who parasitize beneath the Empire's shadow.]

"We aggressively change the tone of the translation like this."

I gave a small nod.

"And we release this to the press as is?"

"No."

Johann adjusted his glasses and gave a cold smile.

"Newspapers and mass media are good for agitation, but they're too light. The Imperial Palace's suspicious, conservative bureaucrat-nobles tend to lean more on print that carries authority and trust."

In plain terms, the Palace's bureaucrats and nobles believe the side that looks more distinguished over some news reporter or the like.

I grasped Johann's intent.

"Academia."

"Yes, precisely."

Johann nodded.

"We just need to make a request to the Headmaster of the Imperial Central University. If we slip these remarks in, citing them as if they appeared in a scholarly paper published some three or four years ago, it's perfect."

In other words, we lean on the "authority of academia".

"A title for the paper along the lines of [An Analysis of the Valkanian Prime Minister's Political Rhetoric and Hostile Implications] would be about right."

Johann's design has no gaps. It's a scheme that takes ideology and print as weapons, certain to sabotage the alliance.

"If the pretext is complete, then now we need an actual expert to lend authority to this paper. Shall we fabricate a fake military commentator?"

I waved that suggestion away.

"...No."

There's no need to go out of our way to invent a fake. Valkania's shoddy organization and limitations are, from the start, facts that exist whether we dress them up or not.

"I'll go find the authorit⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠y myself."

......

This was the Empire's 30th District, a nameless research institute on the third floor of a shabby commercial building.

"Ah, yes. That's me."

The base of the Empire's academia is fairly broad and varied. By the same token, experts who doggedly dig into some foreign nation's politics, society, or military are bound to exist in every corner.

"I've been to Valkania more than a dozen times for research purposes."

I had sought out the man known in this field as an authority on Valkania.

His name was "Ruben". He'd been an elite who graduated from the Imperial Central University with excellent grades, but for the crime of choosing the wrong major, he was now a hapless scholar wasting his talent here in the 30th District, with barely three or four employees under him.

"I see."

Professor Ruben kept glancing at my uniform and scratched the back of his neck.

"...Whenever the Valkanian situation grows unstable, reporters have come by a few times to seek my counsel. But I never imagined a Knight of the Sentinel himself would come all the way out to this humble place."

"They started a war of invasion, didn't they."

"Haha... yes. Well. It was a foregone conclusion."

Like the expert he was, he seemed to have already anticipated this war too.

First, I asked about the supply system and force level of the Valkanian national army.

"...Their military strength is extremely crude relative to the size of the country. Of course, it's enough force to trample a tribal nation like Mekerel, which they invaded this time."

Professor Ruben gave a wry smile and continued.

"It may sound absurd, but they still have the core components of their tanks carved and assembled by artisans, by hand. So some of their tanks are stunning masterpieces."

In fact, they give each individual tank a name. The tank called "Pantra" had a record of winning even when fighting one against ten.

"But some tanks have their engines die even during training... well, that sort of thing. Since nothing is standardized, mass production and maintenance of war materiel are structurally impossible."

The comedy-like reality of Valkania's military had been very famous even before my Regression.

"Also, the extravagance of the officer corps has reached its peak, and the class conflict between them and the soldiers is severe enough to be on the verge of a riot."

One of the most ridiculous anecdotes in Valkanian war history.

When soldiers operating in the desert filed a report that their thirst had become severe, the rear sent up a supply of several hundred boxes of red wine.

"Splendid."

"Honestly, it's not a splendid country."

"No. I mean you, Professor Ruben."

I looked at Professor Ruben and smiled.

"Now, gather that knowledge and publish it as a book."

"...Excuse me?"

Professor Ruben seemed slightly flustered.

"Ah, uh, Sir. As you can see by looking around here..."

He glanced around the cramped institute with a bitter expression.

There were only three employees. One sweeping the floor, one sorting receipts, one tapping away at an old typewriter.

A janitor, an accountant, and a secretary, respectively.

"Given our institute's financial situation, never mind publishing, it's a tight squeeze just to pay these three their wages right now. We've no means to put out a book-"

"A poor scholar who, despite it all, somehow feeds and supports three of his Aran compatriots. A precious and diligent Imperial Aran, are you not."

"...Excuse me?"

"Your scholarly accomplishment, insight, and authority regarding Valkania are also most excellent."

"...Mine?"

I nodded and set a suitcase full of cash on the desk.

"The full amount needed for publication and research."

Thud! The weight of it rang through the laboratory. The dust inside floated up with a whoosh and then settled.

"I'll fund it for you."

......

The "text" to sabotage the future military alliance was ready.

The paper concerning Valkania's Prime Minister that Johann had fabricated, and the critical volume that Professor Ruben would write, pointing out the incompetence and limitations of Valkania's military.

The next problem was the timing for presenting this information to the Emperor.

I have no authority to involve myself in the Emperor's go⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠vernance or diplomatic judgments. Nor should I.

Policy recommendations can be made by borrowing the public forum of the National Assembly, but a covert operation like this one, meant to steer the "direction" of a war, requires a completely different kind of approach.

That's why I decided to make use of the most perfect loudspeaker.

"Max! What's up?"

Reutern II.

With a delighted look on his face, he waved as he stepped into the VIP room.

"Good to see you, Lord Reutern. I heard you've been terribly busy these days..."

"Ahh~ well, you know, right? Valkania invading Mekerel. The whole Palace is in an uproar because of that. The Secretary of State is in the middle of drawing up a response right now. Said it'll take a couple of days... You know, right? The Western lot are already busy condemning Valkania."

He passes along internal secrets the moment he sits down.

"I see. What do you think about Valkania, Lord Reutern?"

A man whose dream is to be a Commander, who brings up the art of war every chance he gets.

The Palace's number one blabbermouth, desperate to "play the expert" in front of others.

"Well~? I'm still sorting out my position. I have been investigating the situation over there in some depth lately, though."

"Impressive."

I happily prop up his vanity.

"What's so impressive. Though there isn't much material out there, is there?"

There's no way there isn't material, but at most he probably just ordered his secretary or bodyguard, "Hey, go fetch me some info on Valkania."

"I happen to have a few papers and military texts related to Valkania."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Have you heard of a Professor Ruben?"

"No. Who's that?"

"He's an authority on Valkania. He's probably spent thirty years researching nothing but Valkania-"

"Oh, really?!"

Reutern II's eyes sparkled. The way he gazed at me, wide-eyed, was the face of a man wanting it handed over right away.

"I'll have it delivered to your residence around tomorrow."

"Huh? Tomorrow? Can't you give it to me today? I was planning to head home after dinner and study right away. I've been pulling all-nighters every day studying lately~"

All of a sudden he's craving knowledge like some scholar.

"The world's so vast there's no time to be resting~"

It seems he really is excited abou⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠t war itself.

"Yes. I'll have it loaded into your car for when you finish your meal and head back."

"Thank you! As expected, Max, you've got good sense."

Just then the food was served, and Reutern II picked up his knife with apparent satisfaction.

"The whole menu's changed... I've been too busy to come by lately, and it's gotten even tastier. Next time I'll have to come with that Ruben professor, or whatever his name is. Introduce us."

"Yes. Let's do that."

I watched his face and gave a faint smile.

There's no telling how Reutern will move from here on.

He'll probably stay up all night reading the papers, or no, more likely he'll order his secretaries to make a summary.

And after giving it a rough read, won't he go spraying spit as he blabbers in front of the other nobles and bureaucrats, as if it were high-grade intelligence he'd personally researched and analyzed?

Either way, it's a beneficial thing for the Empire.

And so Reutern II, too, must be a clear and obvious imperialist.

"Would you care for a glass?"

I leisurely lifted a wine glass.

"Ah, sounds good~"

Reutern hummed a tune and brought his glass to meet mine.

─Clink.

A clear, pure sound rang out softly.

~~~

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