Translator: KJ

Edmon Bruindol returned to the command tent.

Clatter.

He flung down his gun and sword and sank into the field chair.

“.......”

The empty tent, and no one but himself.

He let out a vague sigh.

He gazed up, slowly, at the canvas overhead.

His thoughts clung to every part of him, thick as swamp mud.

I have lived for long years amid contradiction.

My talent was recognized by Sebestian, yet barred by the wall of being mixed-blood, I could never become a knight.

I willingly accepted that as beyond my power, and still I could not let go of the ambition lodged in one corner of my heart.

Waiting for some moment that might come, I honed myself without cease.

My adjutants, too, were the same as me.

Effort that let not a single day go to waste. A resolve that would not pale even beside a knight’s.

And still, certain bastards in the Imperial Guard ignore us and look down on us.

And still, we stand here at this border.

So then, what is left to us?

For an ending in which a life is cut short by a single scrap of paper...... is this what we have worked so hard to live for?

“.......”

Edmon closed his eyes.

A weariness he himself had not noticed washed over him and he drifted into sleep, and by the time dawn broke once more.

“──Edmon!”

Morning at the encampment.

A knight of the Sentinel had arrived. He came striding over, calling out to him. He raised a hand as if glad to see him.

The soldiers fell into rank in step with him and saluted as one, and Edmon answered with a smile of his own.

“It’s been a while, Max.”

“It has. Been a while.”

As they shook hands, Maximilian whispered close to his ear.

“Care for a little walk? There’s something I want to talk about, just us.”

A quiet gravity settled into his golden eyes. Edmon made a show of not catching the meaning of that look.

“Sure. Come on.”

Walking side by side up the mountain path, Edmon was the first to speak.

“What’s this about?”

“Eh, nothing major.”

Maximilian clicked his tongue, sounding somewhat put out.

“The Georgen, those new political police that just got set up. You know them?”

The Empire was, at this point, in a state of power oversaturation. Direct agencies, the palace Imperial Guard, the newly created political police Georgen, the everyday police agencies, the knight orders, the regular army, parliament, royalty, nobility...... jurisdictions overlapped without end, a state of affairs in which each held a blade to the other’s throat.

The Emperor had deliberately let them spring up in a tangle, and by goading them into checking one another, he had cemented his own power.

“Their lot has its eye on those two adjutants of yours. Something about their blood and their ideology being suspect.”

Captain Kane and Captain Heinz. Edmon’s longtime adjutants.

“.......”

Edmon looked silently behind him. Not far off. There were two figures following at a measured distance.

“Kane. Heinz.”

At the summons, the two adjutants approached with resolute faces.

“This is a knight of the order. Salute him.”

“Loyalty. Captain Kane, sir.”

“Loyalty. Captain Heinz, sir.”

The two had chosen, rather than turn their backs at the cliff’s edge and flee, to remain here and prove their innocence.

And Edmon, too, had resolved to believe in their innocence.

“Your Genealogy Certificates?”

“Here, sir.”

The two handed over the originals of their Genealogy Certificates. Maximilian took them. His gaze swept down the pages.

“......Well. The detailed examination can wait.”

Maximilian folded the certificates with a flick and tucked them inside his coat.

“It’s been a while since I came all the way east, so show me around the place. Let these two go and rest.”

“Sure.”

After that, guided by Edmon, Maximilian looked over every corner of the outpost perched in the rugged highlands. The crisply pitched tents, the grimly arrayed Mana Cannon emplacements, the soldiers’ armament and discipline without a single thing out of place.

It was a scene that carried the tension of the front line in full.

Then the two crossed a ridge and reached the edge of the wide-open cliff.

“......Nice view.”

Max’s hair stirred in the wind. The deep-blue sea stretched away into the distance. Beyond it, Finnomia’s pure-white territory spread out to fill the eye, a breathtaking vista.

“Edmon.”

Amid the watercolor-like scenery, Maximilian called to him.

He quietly turned his head.

“If you set up a battery on Finnomia’s shore, would it carry all the way to Robrus’s capital?”

“......Hard to say. I’ve never run the numbers. More to the point, what about the certificates?”

Edmon’s attention was fixed on the certificates and nothing else. Maximilian smiled faintly. He held the two certificates he had just received back out to him.

“You’ve finished the analysis already?”

“Yeah. They’re genuine.”

Maximilian nodded.

“Captain Heinz is three-quarters Imperial Aran, one-quarter Highland. Captain Kane is seven-eighths Aran, one-eighth Merin. Captain Kane cut it close. Merin only gets a pass down to exactly one-eighth.”

Kane and Heinz were mixed-blood, but they were not Ezenheim.

Edmon clenched his fist before he knew it. Letting out a breath laced with relief, he asked.

“From the Empire’s standpoint, is that much mixed-blood all right?”

It was, in its way, a joke.

“Devote yourself to the Empire as a soldier and you can be granted Quasi-Bloodline. Better than some of the rotten Arans. But aren’t you curious? Why they ended up the Georgen’s target.”

“......Hard to say.”

Maximilian thought it over.

This is a ploy, a deliberate strike at the people around Edmon meant to pull him into the fold.

An Ezenheim lurks inside Georgen. At the very least, a member of the revo⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌lutionary forces on par with one.

“I don’t think you need to worry about the certificates themselves. The problem is ideology. If your adjutants should ever read a Forbidden Book, tell me first.”

“No need to worry a⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌bout that. They’ve got far too strong a soldier’s spirit for anything of the sort.”

Maximilian gazed at this Edmon.

Edmon. He is, perhaps, the visionary who awoke before anyone else to the inner workings of that great evil called Ezenheim, even before his Regression.

“......In any case. That’s a relief.”

He folded the adjutants’ certificates carefully and tucked them inside his coat.

“──Edmon.”

Maximilian suddenly lifted his gaze. Fixing his eyes on the horizon, no, somewhere even farther beyond it, he murmured.

“I’m right behind you.”

A friend met again, after long years of going round and round.

The words I want to give to you, who turned back the time of a world hurtling toward ruin and brought me to this miraculous present.

“Now, you can reach the place you’ve always wanted.”

I only hope, with all my heart.

That you, of all people, do not fail to live and breathe in this world that you all but set right again.

For there would be no tragedy to match it.

“......S⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌o.”

I hope that he, the one destined to turn to the revolution, comes back to us again.

“No matter what happens, believe in me.”

I hope that he chooses Maximilian, and not the revolution.

* * *

──The problem is history! Comb through every ancient text from the Empire’s thousand years, and nowhere will you find a single record of a race called the ‘Ezenheim’!

The auditorium of the Imperial Central University. A student standing at the podium pressed on in an impassioned voice, all but crying out.

──Edlem, Dromon, Yaken.......

Tracing his finger across a thick history book, he recounted the long and storied lineages of the Subspecies living on the continent today.

──They possess a history. The Yaken in particular have, since ancient times, been of service to the Empire......

Nearly every Subspecies had existed alongside the continent’s history since the Empire’s founding, no, since long before it. Even in the records of the ‘Centric’ civilization, the origin of the Aran, their traces were clearly preserved.

──But the Ezenheim alone are the exception. Their history is exceedingly murky. They appeared abruptly in some age, and even their origin is unclear.

The very back row of the auditorium.

There sat a knight, listening with interest to the heated voice of the university student.

──The same holds for their religion, the ‘Ezent’.

One by one.

Step by step.

Corner by corner.

The more thoroughly one picks it apart, the more about the Ezenheim refuses to add up. There is more than a thing or two here too unsettling to write off as mere prejudice and loathing toward the Subspecies.

The absence of any proper history.

A religion sprung up out of nowhere.

Notions like a people, like a religion, surely take shape only as a sense of community settles and accretes over long ages, and yet the Ezenheim possess no such continuity.

The bastards try to dress that contradiction up in the flimsy claim that they are a ‘forgotten offshoot of an ancient race’, but the reasoning itself is hopelessly threadbare.

──The Ezenheim band their forces together and feed parasitically on financial capital. They suck the lifeblood of pure Arans dry through usury, and battening on the Comprador trade, they erode the Empire’s interests. This alone makes them an anti-race.......

“What do you make of it?”

Just then, the Dean seated beside the knight asked cautiously.

The knight─ Hannah Usar nodded.

“Not bad.

Now in her second year with the Sentinel, she had her junior knight Mia and her peer Royce at her side. And it was not only them; the auditorium was packed with rookie knights whose admission to the Sentinel had just been confirmed.

As a full-fledged senior knight now, she had hauled them all here to instill the proper ideology in her juniors and to let them sit in on the lecture.

“The structure of the speech is quite solid. The rhetoric’s good, too.”

Maximilian’s autobiography,「Under the Moonlight」.

The thesis in which Dr. Johann had woven together his arguments,「The Thousand-Year Empire」.

「The Thousand-Year Empire」had carried Maximilian’s review and a recommending preface, so it was, in effect, an extension of「Under the Moonlight」.

“I should reference that student’s prose in my own next paper, too.”

As Hannah muttered, scribbling in her notebook, Royce beside her tossed out in a teasing tone.

“Hey, your writing was never much good. Just hire a ghostwriter.”

Hannah’s brow knit sharply.

“What matters is the content and the insight inside it, not the penmanship.”

“Exactly. So I’ll set you up with a ghostwriter who’ll package your brilliant content nice and neat. Give it a shot...... oh, right.”

All of a sudden, Royce lowered his voice.

“Hey. Haven’t the Ezenheim gone and founded some kind of rights group among themselves lately?”

“......A rights group?”

“Yeah. Going on about abolishing discrimination, guaranteeing a right to survive, sneaking around trying to band together again.”

Hannah let out a snort of a laugh. A thick sneer slid out naturally enough, but at some point the corners of her mouth set coldly.

“It’s absurd.”

“It really is.”

Mia gave a hollow laugh, too.

──......We must not treat this as annexation, nor as violence. Every act of the Empire has its grounds.

Because the Aran surpass all other races in both soul and flesh, it is only right that the authority and the duty to govern and lead this civilization fall to them. If anything, it is the Aran who take sacrifice upon themselves, striving to cleanse the continent of its ‘inferiority’.

Words that swelled the chest just to hear them.

──To sort the races, to apply a hierarchy, and so to restore order. That, precisely, is the devotion the Empire bestows upon the continent.

An order ordained since the continent’s very beginning. The duty to restore humankind’s original hierarchy, and as the strong, to gather the weak into one’s arms.

And so this is a calling, the most natural of all, and the most aristocratic of all.......

.......

“Hannah, Knight Hannah!”

The lecture over, in a corridor of the Central University. A voice called urgently after Hannah.

“......?”

She turned to look back for a moment. A girl with a youthful face stood there. Sharp eyes, a sharp line to the jaw. Even at a glance, hers was an appearance that stood out.

“Knight, I......”

"Y⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌ou're a Yaken?"

“Yes, yes! I am! My name is Erka!”

Erka. At the girl’s reply, introducing herself in a thoroughly flushed voice, Hannah answered in turn with a gentle smile.

“One of my own clerks is a Yaken, in fact. What can I do for you?”

“Ah, it’s nothing much.......”

As if nervous, Erka clutched something tightly in both trembling hands.

Hannah coaxed her gently.

“Calm down, calm down. I’m not going anywhere.”

Lately the Yaken race had been formally recognized as the Empire’s ‘Quasi-Bloodline’, and had come to receive far better treatment than before.

The mere fact that a Yaken freshman had enrolled at the Imperial Central University was proof enough that they were now accorded a fair standing in imperial society.

“C-could I please trouble you for just one autograph!”

Erka thrust it out without warning. An exam-prep volume tied to practical appointment within the knight orders. In other words, the certification-exam textbook one absolutely had to study to become a knight order’s administrative officer or clerk.

“......An autograph?”

At the unexpected request Hannah blinked blankly for a moment, then broke into a delighted laugh.

“Ohh~ look at you, a real celebrity.”

Royce gave Hannah’s shoulder a playful tap. The other rookie knights smiled warmly as well.

Erka’s face, by contrast, flushed red as a tomato about to burst.

“M-my dream is to work in the knight order, too, so.......”

A voice shrinking smaller as if from embarrassment. But the yearning bound up in it was real, and for a Yaken it was a thoroughly attainable thing.

“Yes. Keep at it, and don’t let up. Then you’ll see it come true.”

Hannah dashed off her signature across the cover of the exam book.

Having herself climbed to this place from the lowest rung of commoner stock, the Yaken girl’s longing did not feel like a stranger’s.

“Someday, I’ll look forward to meeting you in the knight order.”

* * *

The garrison on the eastern front, the Colonel’s office.

Edmon glared at the two Georgen police seated across from him.

Smack, smack.

Chewing gum, they met Edmon’s gaze without the slightest deference.

“Captain Kane and Captain Heinz. We sent men to make inquiries in the two adjutants’ home villages, and as a result we have secured testimony casting doubt on the identities of those two.”

It was a bizarre thing to claim. Edmon asked back, evenly.

“This makes no sense. The Genealogy Certificates my adjutants submitted were confirmed beyond doubt as authentic. And yet, on nothing more than the vague testimony of a handful of villagers, you say these two are frauds?”

“Yes. That’s about the size of it.”

One of the Georgen replied with a small laugh. At that loathsome face, Edmon swallowed down his bitterness.

Somewhere along the line, a regular-army Colonel had become a man who could be looked down on even by Imperial Guard lackeys like these.

The Emperor shields the Imperial Guard, and Sebestian heeds the Emperor’s will and his alone.

And so the fact that Edmon had been raised by Sebestian’s hand meant nothing whatsoever to them.

“Forgery of Genealogy Certificates has been running wild lately, you see, and there’s no end of people stealing genuine certificates to launder their identities. Even when the certificate itself is genuine, a few recent rulings have held that if the residents’ cross-testimony fails to line up, the identity is to be treated as forged. Or did you not know that?”

But the Maximilian whom Edmon had come to see for himself had a side that was plainly unlike Sebestian.

He knew when to wield power and when to draw it back, and above all, in the crevices of this Empire, he did not offer up boundless loyalty to the Emperor. If anything, he spoke as tho⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌ugh he meant to build an order all his own.

“Who did you get such testimony from?”

“We’ve already told you. We can’t disclose that, for the protection of our witnesses.”

“.......”

Edmon clenched his fist hard.

──Smack.

Smack.

──Smack.

Smack.

The sound of the two bastards smacking their gum in unison scraped at his nerves, until it felt as though a string of filthy curses might burst from his mouth at any second.

Knock, knock-

Right on cue, a knock at the office door broke the silence.

“Colonel, sir. An urgent dispatch from Central.”

Edmon nodded. An adjutant approached carefully, handed over a thick document envelope, and withdrew.

At the sight, the Georgen police furrowed their brows as if put out.

“Colonel. I truly can’t imagine how you drill your subordinates. We’re plainly in the middle of official business, and yet they go flinging the door open and barging in like that.......”

Ignoring their grumbling, Edmon checked the contents.

Fortunately, it was the very thing he had been waiting for all this while.

“......I’ll ask once more. Who gave you the testimony?”

“Oh, honestly. What’s gotten into you. If you keep prying at us like this, we’ll have no choice but to report you to our superiors for overstepping your authori-”

Slap.

Edmon thrust a single document, stamped with a red seal, before their eyes.

「Genealogy Certificate」

The instant they caught sight of the signature scrawled in a flowing hand at the foot of the document, the Georgen police’s faces hardened stiff.

“This is a matter that calls for a knight order’s verification.”

The precedent that brands a genuine certificate a forgery the moment the villagers tell a different story, he understands it well enough. It is all rough-and-ready guesswork in the end.

But that logic would shift all over again, depending on the ‘authority’ of whoever had examined the certificate and vouched that it was genuine.

"......If you intend to keep your mouths shut to the very end about who gave the testimony,"

Edmon glared at their drained, bloodless faces and murmured, low.

“Then this impure investigation of yours.”

To these maggots, who play at being soldiers without being soldiers, who play at being nobles without being nobles, and dare to brandish power.

“I have no choice but to carry it straight to Knight Maximilian himself.”

Edmon had gladly chosen to borrow the name of Maximilian.

~~~

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