Translator: KJ

Luchen auction house. The high-end auction was over and in the car heading back to the train platform.

Ezell Runsellot turned a page of the auction catalog.

"We couldn't get a single thing in the end. Not even the Shiver Diamond."

The secretary in the passenger seat pursed her lips in disappointment.

"......Can't be helped."

Ezell Runsellot. She was the heir to the Runsellots. A high-ranking magical family that had explored magic and pursued learning for generations.

And so she knew the value of the countless Magic Tools and Artifa⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠cts listed in this catalog.

How they had been made, since when they had been handed down, how they had been kept...... she had even met some of their actual owners.

Which was why she knew these catalog pieces had by no means come from legitimate trade. She knew they were assets soaked in the blood and sweat of the colleagues she had once debated theories and learning with, or of their parents and forebears.

Stolen goods seized at absurd, knockdown prices through the brutality of the Imperial Guard, or confiscated whole under trumped-up charges of treason. People driven out of the Empire or executed for the crime of not being pure Aran.

"......"

Ezell quietly closed her eyes.

When she closed her eyes, the screams of people persecuted and scorned for the mere fact of being 'Subspecies' seemed to linger in her ears. The face of a junior wizard thrown out of the dormitory for not being pure Aran was still vivid to her.

Had he been executed, or locked away in a prison......

Yet for Ezell, there was no grand cause of the sort the Revolutionary forces cried out for.

What she wished for was something far more self-evident and humble than heavy words like revolution or the overthrow of a system.

Why must human beings treat one another differently?

The shape of a heart, the birth and ethnicity one came from, the religion one believed in. Could measures as paltry as these define a person's dignity and decide who lived and who died?

But the Empire as it actually was had spun too far into madness for anyone to pose such fundamental questions and agonize over them.

The cousin she had looked up to like a true elder brother had become, as an Imperial soldier, a follower of pure-Aran ideology.

The innocent boy she had first met at eight and raced through the gardens with had, somewhere along the way, turned into the sharpest blade in the Empire.

Where would the nation called the Empire, and we who made it up, end up drifting?

She was still too young to bear that answer in full, and too old to go on living as if she knew nothing.

Wordlessly, she drew a single book from inside her robe.

「Under the Moonlight」.

The book that was seeping coldly through the Empire these days. And printed clearly along its lower edge, 'Maximilian von Albrecht Ebenholtz'. (TL Note: The author has used the full name 'Maximilian von Albrecht Ebenholtz', which is different from the full name used in an earlier chapter, 'Maximilian Albrecht von Ebenholtz'. It could be a typo or not, so for now I am leaving it as it is. Do note that this is not a mistake on my part and is how it appears in the original.)

'......I'm sorry, Max.'

Ezell murmured soundlessly, a bitter smile on her lips.

'It seems that I...... think differently from you, after all.'

She gently stroked the gold-embossed letters of his name with her thumb, then tucked it back deep into her robe.

A fresh wave of feeling rose in her.

Somewhere along the way, we too have been growing older like this.

We're walking down different roads now.

"We've arrived~!"

said the secretary. Ezell lifted her head as well.

At some point they had reached the train platform. With a rather tense expression, she fidgeted with the scroll tucked into the inner pocket of her robe.

* * *

The items from the Luchen auction house were not delivered the moment the auction ended.

They were first held temporarily in secret vaults located across the continent, and only after payment was confirmed were they at last delivered to the buyer. Spreading the risk out this way was far safer than clumsily keeping everything inside Luchen itself.

───!

A whistle blast rang across the platform.

Screeeeech!

The train came grinding down the rails and pulled up to the platform. Celine Dubois quietly boarded.

Seat number 10-93-01.

She found her assigned seat and sat down without drawing attention.

This operation would not take long.

It was a clean heist, one where no one needed to bleed or be hurt.

If there was any variable, it was the Prozen Intelligence Bureau agents who had appeared out of nowhere.

"......"

Celine leaned back into the plush seat and closed her eyes. Breathing deeply, she waited in stillness.

There were quite a lot of passengers aboard the train.

Amid this huge crowd, she still couldn't tell who was an ally.

The Revolutionary forces were a cell network. Each member was a 'dot' forming part of the larger picture, and all that mattered was carrying out one's assigned task without the slightest error.

The directive handed down to Celine was just one.

──Plant a small adhesive bomb in the train lavatory and detonate it at the appointed time.

Pshhhhhh......!

Meanwhile the train departed, and around the time it passed the second platform, then the third.

Celine rose naturally from her seat as if heading to the lavatory. Slipping into the cramped stall, she fixed the bomb to a blind spot beneath the sink, out of sight.

After setting the timer, she returned to her seat and sat down.

Tick─

She waited for the moment.

Tick─

Right about now, no doubt, countless Revolutionary comrades were filing in and out of the lavatory so that no single suspect could be pinned down.

Tick─

How much time had passed.

Screeeech──!

Some grinding noise rose from the train. Its speed slowed noticeably, then came to a complete stop. Then an unidentifiable fog came seeping through the ventilation ducts into the whole cabin.

Hsssssss......

Gray fog billowing up. The passengers stirred in confusion.

"Everyone, everyone please remain in your seats!"

A crew member shouted urgently through a megaphone.

"It seems there's a minor strain on the engine!"

Since the gas was non-toxic, there would be no innocent civilian casualties.

The Revolutionary comrades were carrying the plan forward one step, one step at a time, each from their own position.

"It will be resolved shortly, so passengers, please all stay calm and keep to your seats!"

The murmuring of the crowd gradually subsided, and Celine Dubois waited calmly as well.

Her role ended here.

The editor-in-chief of Jemion Daily. As a Revolutionary cadre who had infiltrated the very deepest reaches of Imperial society, her single most important duty was 'not getting caught'.

......

Thud. Thud.

Someone was walking like a ghost through the thick gas fog.

A silhouette emerging from a VVIP private room, stealthily strolling down the train corridor.

Thud. Thud.

Before long she reached the cargo car where the goods were stored. For a mere cargo car, it sat in a position treated as even more VVIP than the VVIP cabins, yet the watch over it was, in fact, anything but tight. The armed guards had all fallen into a deep sleep.

Probably one of the guards had been a Revolutionary member.

Then again, maybe not.

─Creeeeak.

She, Ezell, stood before the vault and opened the door. She sent the rolled parchment tumbling open. The complex Magic Circle held within the scroll unfurled. In that instant, the engraved magic loosed itself into the air and activated.

Swooooosh──!

A strange light swept through the cargo car. The boxes and auction lots inside the vault all shrank at once.

A box the size of a human body dwindled to the size of a palm, and a palm-sized box shrank to the size of a knuckle.

Spatial Magic that reduced mass and volume.

Her role ended here.

She turned at once and went back to her own original seat, the VVIP private room, and sat down.

The one who would carry the safely packaged goods was another Revolutionary member.

Even Ezell did not know who that was.

......

At the same moment, Schatz Heizen was sitting atop the roof of the train, fixing her gaze on something.

At the end of her line of sight, she caught someone slipping off the train and vanishing swiftly into the rugged mountains.

"......"

They seemed to be making off with the looted auction goods, but she did not give chase. She only watched, motionless.

Some time later the engine was restored, and the carriage began to shudder once more.

Schatz silently dropped down and slipped into the train.

"The engine has been restored! We deeply apologize for the great inconvenience to all our passengers!"

With the crew member's shout, the ventilation fans started up again.

The gas gradually cleared, and the whole affair was smoothed over as nothing more than a happening.

"......?"

Schatz was walking down the corridor at an indifferent pace when, all at once, she spotted someone through the gap in the window of a VVIP private room.

A woman resting her chin on her hand, gazing idly at the scenery outside.

Ezell Runsellot.

From her─ the 'Mana' she had used on⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠ly a moment ago drifted over.

"......"

The black pupils of Schatz, staring at her, slowly steeped into a deep darkness.

* * *

A top-class hotel in a neutral country. The penthouse.

"They've taken the goods."

Schatz, just returned, stood before me and reported. I nodded without lifting my eyes from the newspaper.

I had never intended to stop their operation in the first place. If anything, I had meant to hand it over gladly.

"Also, intelligence agents of the Republic of Prozen appeared at the scene. Their movements did not clash with the Revolutionary forces' at all, and the two seemed to move in seamless, organic coordination."

A smile spread across my lips.

"Ah~ so it was them after all."

Back in the day, a rumor had circulated openly in the Empire.

'Prozen's Intelligence Bureau was subordinate to Ezenheim, and along with Robrus it was the institution that backed the Revolutionary forces most heavily.'

Prozen had denied this even after the war, but today, thanks to my identity as Felix Renoir, I had come to know it for certain.

"At the top of the Prozen Intelligence Bureau sits Ezenheim...... And tracking the goods?"

"No trouble at all."

Schatz answered in a voice full of conviction.

Yukia had built a tiny machine for this operation.

An ultra-compact transmitter that gave off a special electromagnetic signal only Schatz could detect.

We had planted one in every single item that would go up for auction.

In other words, no matter where the bastards stashed the stolen goods deep underground, or sold them off on the black market, every route of their funds and logistics would leak straight to us.

"Then things are about to get busy. Keep a distance where you'll absolutely never be spotted, and string together the dots they've scattered to draw up a structural map."

"Yes."

The core of what we were after was, in the end, the head of the Revolutionary forces, 'Veil'.

If we couldn't catch Veil, we'd catch no one.

That place was that important.

"They've got to be desperate for funds right now too. They'll try to sell these goods off fast and turn them into cash any way they can."

A portion of that sale money would, just as I had promised Ezell, go toward supporting poverty relief for the lower classes.

"Yes. I'll proceed carefully."

"Mm. Good work."

But Schatz did not turn to leave.

She stared at me blankly- intently-

"What is it?"

At my question, as though she had been waiting for it, she drew something out and held it forward.

A jewel that held a peculiar silver glow, the 'Shiver Diamond'.

"I set this one aside separately."

"......"

The grain of the sparkling jewel, and Schatz's face as she looked at me. I studied the two in turn.

A certain joke suddenly came to mind.

"Is this a proposal?"

"......?"

Schatz's face wavered with a rare flicker of bewilderment.

I laughed out loud.

"I'm joking. But, you know, if just this one piece is missing, the bastards might catch on and grow suspicious?"

It was a playful jab, but it was also the truth.

For a single moment, Schatz's composure had slipped.

"......"

Even so, her face stayed expressionless, yet to me it somehow felt full of expression.

"Still, thank you."

I smiled, turning the diamond over in my fingers.

"I really did want this one."

Something I had quietly longed for.

The reason she had taken on this kind of risk herself was, in truth, that she had sensed the attachment I'd never quite let go of.

"Yes. I'm glad."

Of course, I still couldn't fully read her emotions.

What did the human being called Schatz, hidden beneath that blank mask, truly want?

It never came to me clearly, but the one thing I was certain of was that she was genuinely grateful to me.

"Go and rest easy today. From here on, things are going to get very busy."

"Understood."

Schatz withdrew from the penthouse.

I leaned back into my chair and turned the diamond over in my fingers. For a while, I sank into thought.

"The structure of revolution......"

We still didn't know the roots of the group called the Revolutionary forces. We didn't know how deep they ran.

Even after regressing, they had remained nothi⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠ng but a question to me.

Where on the continent those bastards, the very root of Ezenheim, had coiled themselves up, only now had it finally become possible to truly track them down.

'......Ezell, it's thanks to you.'

I gazed at the stars strewn thick across the night sky beyond the window and gave a faint smile.

* * *

......Colonel Edmon Bruindol.

The youngest Colonel in the Empire, a man who held the trust of Commander-in-Chief Sebestian and had grown up like a brother to Maximilian.

His blood may have been impure, of mixed stock, but the titles above more than made up for all of it.

"Loyalty!"

A frontline unit bordering the Eastern Alliance. Edmon stepped into the headquarters building, receiving the crisp salutes of the sentries.

"Loyalty!"

But lately the cries of "Loyalty" had been unusually loud.

"Loyalty!"

It wasn't his imagination.

However tight the discipline, it hadn't been quite like this even two or three weeks ago.

"Loyalty─!"

"......"

He glared for a moment at the one who'd bellowed right in his face.

"Lo, loyaltyyyy──!"

If anything, the man only got louder.

There was just no winning this.

Edmon simply fiddled with his ear and opened the door to his office. Some uninvited guest was sitting arrogantly on the sofa.

"Oh. You're here?"

Major General Schweitzer. Why was he, assigned to the Zerpha Front, here in the East?

It was a mystery, but then, Schweitzer was a man whom common sense never suited in the first place.

"Loyalty."

Edmon saluted politely.

"Ah, enough, enough. At ease."

Schweitzer waved a hand and smirked.

"How fares the situation at Zerpha?"

When Edmon asked, taking off his coat, Schweitzer let out a snort.

"Ah~ well. Just a matter of time. Word is the Robrus bastards are slipping weapons to those Republican Faction rats behind the scenes, and if anything it's only made things more fun. They've gotta hold out a while, or where's the thrill in tearing them apart, eh?"

Schweitzer's madness and arrogance, and his outstanding tactical gifts as well, were all well known to Edmon. And the reverse was just as true. Schweitzer was a general who overestimated himself, but on the flip side he had a fondness for talented juniors.

Edmon was one of the few 'real' ones he acknowledged.

"Hmm~"

Schweitzer's gaze drifted to the books piled on one side of Edmon's desk.

"Looks like you've read it too?"

「Under the Moonlight」,「Valtaras」, and even the recently popular comic book「Outcast」.

"This one, I mea⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠n."

Schweitzer singled out「Under the Moonlight」 among them and pointed straight at it.

"Yes. It's been issued to nearly the entire army."

"......"

Schweitzer stroked his chin and looked Edmon over with a strange glint in his eye.

"You haven't read it."

"......"

He really hadn't. No time, was the excuse.

To Edmon, the Knights were still like a thorn jabbing into him.

"Read it. Your name shows up in there too."

"......My name?"

"Yeah. In chapters one and three."

Belatedly, Edmon understood. The reason the cries of "Loyalty" hurled his way had b⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠een so unusually loud of late.

"By the way, have you read that Knight's report that came up to the military command? The one Knight Maximilian wrote."

"I've read it."

Because Knights held the extralegal authority to surveil and judge everything in the Empire, their reports were treated with weight even by the military's top brass.

"Max paid Major General Schweitzer high praise in it."

"......'Max', is it."

Schweitzer's eyes narrowed.

"Sounds to me like you're quietly trying to scare me? What, because you're like brothers with that Knight, I'm supposed to watch my step?"

Edmon knew Schweitzer's madness-tinged nature better than anyone. Provoke him for nothing and it'd turn into a headache.

"......You're hardly the sort of man to be cowed by mere connections like that, Major General."

So, he stepped back with practiced ease. Schweitzer raised his eyebrows at Edmon for it.

"Right. Anyway. Well. The reason I came is."

He held out a sheet of paper.

"This."

"......Hm?"

Edmon studied the contents written on that document intently.

~~~

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