Translator: KJ

Hans stepped out through the massive front gate of Imperial Guard headquarters. He was about to keep walking straight down the road when he stopped short and glanced back.

Somewhere along the way night had fallen, and the Imperial Guard's central stronghold loomed faintly beneath the moonlight.

A mass of gray concrete, crouched in the dark.

"......It's big, all right."

Compared to the time-worn stonework of the Sentinel Knight Order, this place was far too crude.

Bleak, perhaps, was the truer word.

And yet it was this barren building, this radical outfit, that now held the civilian life of the Empire in its grip.

The Sentinels, the Empire's finest, were too few in number. Forty a year at most. And even that quota went unfilled when the class of the year was a poor one. Count every knight order across the whole Empire, and fewer than two hundred knights were turned out in a year.

The regular army dwarfed the Imperial Guard in raw numbers, but it was stationed on distant border fronts, or deployed to foreign nations like Zerpa.

The power that filled that vacuum, that gripped the civilian population by the throat and shook it, was this very place, the Imperial Guard.

"There's a reason for it, all right."

Hans muttered it with a dry laugh. If he'd been an ordinary commoner, or if he'd come here as a Western Prison guard the way he once had, these gray walls would have suffocated him......

Trudge, trudge.

Just as he set off again along the roadside.

Screeeech—!

A black car pulled up short, cutting across his path.

"......The hell?"

"Attorney Thomas Iduna?"

The front passenger door opened and a uniformed man climbed out. Hans's brow drew together.

"What is it?"

"Ah, a pleasure. I'm Second Lieutenant Eric Lange, of the Imperial Guard Central Audit Bureau."

The Second Lieutenant threw a light salute and opened the rear door. There was one more man in the passenger seat.

The Imperial Guard always worked in pairs.

"Lieutenant Tilman."

The way he spoke, cigarette dangling, was pretty damn insolent.

Second Lieute⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌‌‌nant Lange spoke again.

"By the special consideration of Lieutenant General Martin Himmler, we've been ordered to see you home safely, Counsel."

His words were courteous, but his eyes were cold.

"The roads aren't safe at night these days. Terrorist activity being as common as it is...... surely you understand?"

The Guard dogs wouldn't take no for an answer. Which suited Hans just fine. The surest evidence was always the kind you dug up by throwing your own body into the fire.

Hans stared into the car for a moment.

"Yes. Well, then. I won't refuse."

And climbed into the back seat.

* * *

──Clang!

The iron bars of the Georgen underground detention block swung open.

"Niko Weber. Out. You're being moved to the courthouse."

Custody of Niko Weber was handed over. Inspector Fritz and Sergeant Gewin escorted him up to ground level.

A transport vehicle was already waiting out front.

Watching Niko being led away, Gewin murmured under his breath.

"Looks like we won't be catching whoever put him up to it."

Fritz gave no answer. He only stared at Niko's ret⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌‌‌reating back.

"......Ahem."

Gewin cleared his throat awkwardly, keeping an eye on his superior's mood.

"Well...... Ah, Inspector. That there's the prosecutor assigned to the case."

Just then a man carrying a briefcase came walking out of the Georgen building.

Fritz approached him first, and Gewin followed behind.

"Good to meet you. Inspector Fritz."

"Ah, yes! Yes, yes, a pleasure. First time meeting you. I'm Prosecutor Rudi, from the Imperial Cen-, the Central Ministry of Justice."

Young, at a glance. And as young as he was, he had the look of a raw, fumbling greenhorn.

His hair was already a mess, and whether from nerves or not, his shirt and his sideburns were soaked with sweat.

From the state of him, it was easy enough to guess who he'd met inside.

"Did your talk with Deputy Director Valerian go well?"

Valerian. Most people ended up looking like this after facing him for the first time.

The name Taxis alone was enough to inspire dread, and meeting him in the flesh gave off something far stranger still.

"Ah, yes...... The instructions were made perfectly clear to me."

"Glad to hear it. Well done."

Fritz held out his hand. The prosecutor clasped it awkwardly. Narrowing his eyes at the man's clammy palm, Fritz added,

"Don't let him frighten you too much. Once you've met with Deputy Director Valerian a few times, you'll get used to him."

"Yes, I mean, no...... Ah, I don't think I'll get used to him even if I live to be a hundred...... haha."

The prosecutor forced a smile, but his eyes wavered with unease.

Gewin cut in with a smirk.

"As for the details...... no, I suppose there aren't really any details to speak of, are there? The outcome's already decided, after all."

"Yes. I was assigned as the prosecuting attorney for this, but......"

The prosecutor had only to sit there and play the puppet.

Gewin whispered, low,

"So about that...... what exactly did Deputy Director Valerian say to you?"

The prosecutor swallowed hard.

'Rudi' was a textbook commoner's name. He'd be nervous even speaking the name of the Taxis heir aloud.

"Ah, um...... he didn't say much...... just that a lawyer might turn up or might not, and either way I'm to just sit still and do nothing......."

Fritz shot Gewin a sidelong glare and cut the prosecutor off.

"There's no need to be quite so forthcoming."

"Ah, yes. Yes! My apologies."

"Well then, we'll be off. Keep up the good work."

Gewin opened the door of the official car first. Fritz slid naturally into the passenger seat.

"Uh, uhh......."

Even then Rudi just stood there, blank, watching them for a cue. The longer Gewin looked, the more endearing the kid got. How could a prosecutor be such a dope?

Gewin snorted a laugh.

"Care to ride with us, Prosecutor? We'll take you right to the courthouse."

Trial the same day, verdict the same day, execution the same day.

They needed to move fast.

"Ah, well then...... shamelessly, er, if you'll pardon the imposition, I'd be grateful."

Rudi scrambled into the back seat.

* * *

Vrooom──

The car rolled on down the road. Just as Hans had expected, the scenery was unfamiliar. It was heading in a completely different direction from the law office.

"......."

Without a word, he looked at the rearview mirror. His eyes met the guardsman's in the driver's seat.

The sixth time now.

Second Lieutenant Lange opened his mouth, a nasty little smile on his lips.

"Sit back and relax, Counsel. We'll be there soon. I took a bit of a wrong turn back there, but we can just cut off up ahead."

"......Yes. Let's do that."

Hans quietly closed his eyes. There was no reason at all to be tense. If anything, he loosened up.

So far, nothing had gone off script.

He kept up the pretense of dozing for a while, and just as the bluish light of dawn began to stain the horizon.

──Screeeech.

At last the car came to a stop.

"Step out, please."

Hans opened his eyes. He took in the view outside the window, and his brow creased.

High-voltage barbed wire ringing the place on every side, and watchtowers standing here and there.

Hans knew this place. He had even seen the blueprints himself.

The「Special Detention Camp」, run by the Imperial Guard to hold political prisoners and thought criminals.

"This isn't my office."

"Oh, shut it. Get your ass out. Now."

At some point his tone had gone considerably coarser. Hans had no choice but to step out of the car, and the moment he did, Second Lieutenant Lange drew a pistol and shoved it into his back.

"Thomas Iduna. You're under emergency arrest for violating the Imperial Ideology Law and for anti-state incitement."

The muzzle pressed against his spine.

Hans cried out in a panic.

"Wh-what are you talking about, exactly?! This is outrageous-"

"Shut your mouth, you reactionary piece of shit."

Second Lieutenant Lange snarled viciously. Hans made a show of trembling in alarm.

"Move a muscle, fucker, and I turn your legs into mincemeat."

"Ah, ah! Wait, hold on! Under the Imperial Code of Criminal Procedure, without a proper warrant you can't-"

"Listen to him, prattling on about Imperial law. You know what the Imperial Guard Special Law is? You're going straight to the camp. No right to counsel for the likes of you."

"All right! All right! I get it, so calm down! Please!"

He shouted it as desperately, as pleadingly, as he could.

At his cries, the two guardsmen looked at each other and cackled.

"You get it? Get what, exactly, you moron?"

Second Lieutenant Lange tapped Hans's lower back with the muzzle, and Lieutenant Tilman, grinning stupidly, cracked Hans across the cheek. Smack!

"Get what, you little shit. Just how far does a lawyer bastard think he can push it......."

Still, it's one for the record books. A commoner lawyer, getting a private audience with Lieutenant General Martin, of all things.

Tilman chuckled and scratched his cheek.

"......Clueless little worm."

The expression drained from Tilman's face. He gathered the phlegm in his mouth and spat it right into Hans's face. Ptooey!

The sticky saliva slid slowly down from Hans's forehead.

"Rot in here a few months first. We'll let you have your trial. If you're still alive by then, that is. Hey!"

Tilman waved a hand toward the camp.

"Ah, wait, hold on! Just a mome⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌‌‌nt...... just a moment, please."

Hans shook his head to fling off the phlegm sliding toward his lips.

"My inside pocket, just check my inside pocket, please."

"Inside pocket? Write yourself a will, did you?"

"The inside pocket, just the inside pocket. And get that muzzle off me."

The muzzle scraping at his lower back was getting rather on his nerves.

"There's something in the inside pocket I'd like to show you."

At that, the guardsmen scoffed.

"What, you gonna pull out a family tree? Gonna beg off by claiming you're Aran?"

Thooom!

Just then the camp's iron gate opened and several guards came walking out. The first thing they did was salute the guardsmen.

Second Lieutenant Lange waved them away as if bothered.

"Check it, just check it once. I'm asking you, please."

Hans blinked like a beggar, and Tilman, smirking as if it were all a joke, jerked his chin at Lange.

"Go on, take a look."

"Sure thing~"

Second Lieutenant Lange rummaged through Hans's inside pocket and pulled out a leather notebook.

"This?"

"Yes. Open it up."

And the moment he casually looked over the 'documents' tucked inside.

"......?"

Lange's face went rigid.

Confusion flooded his whole face, and the sneer evaporated in an instant.

"......."

His lips silently mouthing something over and over.

Dilated pupils, and frozen fingertips.

A stillness, as if even his breathing had stopped.

"What's the matter with you?"

"......."

"......The hell's wrong with this guy?"

Tilman snatched the notebook away himself.

"......."

Before long, his expression shifted the same way.

"Um...... is something the matter......?"

The bewildered camp guards asked cautiously, but the Lieutenant and the Second Lieutenant stayed frozen.

"......Ugh, damn it. Disgusting."

Hans brushed the guardsmen's hands lightly aside. He tugged his sleeve up to wipe the phlegm from his cheek, then reclaimed the notebook from Lieutenant Tilman's grasp.

"First things first. Let me introduce myself again."

He ran his eyes over the dazed guardsmen and camp guards and spoke.

"Sentinel Knight Order. Senior Operations Officer of the First Department, serving under Senior Knight Maximilian von Ebenholtz."

Sentinel. Maximilian. Senior Operations Officer.

At that string of menacing words, the camp guards flinched and stumbled back a step.

"The name is Hans Wenzel."

Maximilian. Maximilian. Maximilian.......

That name leaked vacantly from Lange's lips.

"From this point on, the investigation into the Niko Weber case falls under the jurisdiction of the Sentinel Knight Order, and——"

Hans turned to look at the two guardsmen who had hauled him in.

"Everyone involved in this case will be investigated by Sir Maximilian."

"Yes, yes! Loyalty! Loyaltyyy! We knew nothing about any of this! We had no part in it!"

The camp guards, quick to read the room, scrambled to distance themselves.

Hans, in turn, cut his eyes towa⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌‌‌rd Lange and Tilman.

"Hey."

The Second Lieutenant's and the Lieutenant's shoulders gave a violent jerk.

The men who'd been so triumphant just moments ago couldn't even meet his gaze now.

They ducked their heads on the sly, and even clasped their hands behind their backs.

"......Second Lieutenant Lange. Lieutenant Tilman. I've got your names now, so let's meet again later, back at the Order. Shall we?"

* * *

From early that morning, a chilly tension hung over the Imperial Central Special Court.

─The trial of the defendant Niko Weber is hereby called to order.

The Presiding Judge's declaration rang hollow. The air of the courtroom was rigid, as though the verdict had already been settled, and the man seated at the prosecutor's bench was nothing more than a puppet himself.

─Terrorist bombing of the factory belonging to the imperial strategic-defense firm 'Alchemia', and conspiracy to commit insurrection.

The very front row of the gallery. Inspector Fritz and Sergeant Gewin of the Georgen sat side by side.

─The ringleader, Niko Weber.

Gewin stole a glance at Fritz beside him. Fritz's eyes were fixed on the defendant's seat.

─The hearing sha⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌‌‌ll now commence.......

The trial went forward, but the procedure was drastically pared down.

Examination of evidence was skipped, and witness testimony was replaced with written statements.

─Defendant Niko Weber. Do you admit to your crimes?

Niko Weber shook his head, his face bowed low. His battered lips quivered as they pushed out a mumbled voice.

"......I do not."

Fritz's brow tightened. A sneer hooked the corner of Gewin's mouth.

Death right in front of him, and still he doesn't know his place.

─Hah. Your reckless act of destruction cost the lives of skilled laborers who had devoted themselves to their nation. And still you feel no remorse?

"They were not innocent, not in the slightest. Leeches, feeding on the empire's blood and sweat-"

─Oh, for pity's sake, this is preposterous!

The Presiding Judge shouted, cutting Niko off.

─The defendant denies his crimes to the very end and shows himself utterly shameless, without a shred of remorse, so there is nothing more here worth hearing!

At once he signaled the prosecutor with his eyes.

The prosecutor rose from his seat as though he'd been waiting for it.

─Yes. As the defendant Niko Weber's conduct is exceedingly heinous and gravely threatens the peace of the empire, the prosecution demands death, the maximum penalty prescribed by law.

At the defendant's bench, seated alone without counsel, Niko Weber sank into a quiet stillness.

Gewin raised his eyebrows and muttered,

"He was a man with no life of his own to begin with."

A father who'd killed himself over debts he couldn't pay, a mother taken by illness, a younger sister lost to a traffic accident. A life in which not one single thing ever went right.

He had laid the blame for all of it on Ezenheim alone, until his grievances with society erupted in the form of terrorism—

"......?"

That was when it happened. The courtroom suddenly stirred. A rustling commotion rose from outside, and someone came rushing in. Flustered, he whispered something into the Presiding Judge's ear.

─The defense counsel is here?

The Presiding Judge's brow furrowed.

Defense counsel.

Gewin let out a small laugh.

"Ah, so that lawyer fellow's actually showing up after all."

Inspector Fritz gave no reply. The Presiding Judge, his eyebrows twitching with displeasure, declared,

─Admit Niko Weber's defense counsel.

The Presiding Judge had the face of a man about to bring down some thundering rebuke. Who do you think you are, daring to defend a terrorist- something along those lines, no doubt.

Right in the middle of Gewin's musings, the door opened.

──Creeeak

After that, an inexplicable atmosphere filled the courtroom.

The Presiding Judge's angry face, turned toward the far end of the aisle, went slack for a moment. The hand gripping his gavel trembled faintly.

──Thud.

Steady, quiet footsteps.

──Thud.

A crisp resonance approaching as though treading upon air.

From somewhere, the sound of several spectators' breath catching in their throats.

──Thud.

Prosecutor Rudi's hair stood on end. His jaw had dropped open at some point, nearly grazing the desk.

What's gotten into him?

Gewin belatedly turned to look.

"......Huh?"

That was all that came out of him, too.

For a moment his thoughts tangled, and a strange ache spread up the back of his neck.

──Thud.

A man dressed not in a knight's uniform, but in a suit.

And yet everyone in that room knew it. That he carried within him a dignity and a power that outstripped any uniform.

──Thud.

A knight of the empire could serve not only as prosecutor but as defense counsel as well.

For as the empire's watchmen, they held authority and standing that rose above the law itself.

──Thud.

And this man walked into the courtroom in person, looked up at the Presiding Judge, and spoke.

"Defense counsel Maximilian."

─.......

The Presiding Judge's gaze lost its bearings somewhere in midair. His parched lips gaped like a goldfish's. Across the room, the prosecutor could only heave breath in and out, as though hyperventilating.

"......What the fuck is this."

Fritz recited the curse blankly, and Gewin felt much the same.

Amid their shock── Maximilian took the seat beside the prisoner.

"It's good to meet you, Niko."

A deep, beautiful voice.

At the clean, composed tone introducing him, Niko's gaze, which had been bowed low all this while, naturally lifted.

"I read your letter closely."

Maximilian's golden eyes settled on Niko.

And in Niko's pupils, as they met his, a glimmer of moonlight came to rest.

~~~

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