WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
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Chapter 4: Terrorism Always Occurs on the Academy Entrance Train (2)
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* * *
When the children in his care asked why the Allied Kingdoms were "allied" kingdoms, Ivan usually told them to look at a railway map.
This enormous rail network, which had carried military supplies during the war against the Demon King, served as arteries connecting not only cities to cities, but nations to nations.
Metal beasts that crossed in three or four days distances that had once required over ten days of nonstop travel by carriage. They had been the true stars of the last war.
"Who's arriving first?"
"Einar of Droan, Senior. They say Princess Aesidis is planning to leave first!"
"It's still January."
"Exactly. Who travels to some distant foreign country two whole months early just to wait for the first day of school? And she's royalty, too. What a nuisance."
The young man gave him a sly grin.
"Looks like Princess Aesidis has had a rough time back home. Those Droan bumpkins apparently think playing instruments is a joke!"
"...Instruments?"
"Oh, didn't I mention it? Princess Aesidis applied to the music department. Orchestral Department, violin major. Isn't that incredible? A blood relative of Great King Einar, of all people, becoming a violinist."
Ivan paused at that.
The Einar he remembered, before becoming Great King, had been a member of the Hero Party. He was a madman who carried two axes, collecting orc heads in the morning and taurus heads in the evening.
-Hahahaha! My "little" Ivan! This is how you swing an axe!!
Didn't daughters usually take after their fathers...?
No, no.
It had been years ago, but Ivan vaguely remembered Aesidis as a frail little girl who adored her father.
She barely resembled him at all, thankfully for everyone involved.
In any case, the strongest music student in history was about to be born. Ivan had only one thought on the matter.
Aesidis did not share her father's looks or personality, but when it came to swinging an axe, she was his spitting image.
"By the way, Senior, are you sure about this information? You really think there'll be a terrorist attack on the train?"
"Yes."
"Who? Well... there are too many people I could point to if you asked who, but still. She's Great King Einar's daughter. If they get caught, they'll get the blood eagle."
The blood eagle was Droan citizens' favorite folk pastime. It held roughly the same position as holiday yut games or Dano swing rides. At least, a lot of people watched it.
The details were too horrific to explain to civilized citizens of the Krasilov Kingdom.
"If you take the most direct route from Droan to Saint Yansk University, it's here."
Ignoring the young man's comment, Ivan traced a solid line across the railway map.
The Twelfth Transport Route.
One of the trade transport lines connecting the Krasilov Kingdom and the Droan Kingdom.
"And my guess is that Igorvich Station, this area here, is the most likely location."
"How can you be so sure...? It's not like terrorists announce the time and place beforehand. Senior, do you have someone planted there?"
"Because they'll strike at the border."
He did not know who would carry out the attack. He could not predict that.
He had left the front lines, and he had no ties to any intelligence agency.
But he could make an educated guess.
Assume the attack itself was a constant.
Then all he had to do was work out the why, who, and how one by one.
"The target of the attack will be Princess Aesidis."
"Well, uh... if there really is an attack, then probably?"
"Why do you think that?"
"...Pardon?"
Naturally, it would be to create a point of conflict between Krasilov and Droan.
That much was obvious.
"Then the attack won't happen south of the Droan border. To shift responsibility onto the Krasilov Kingdom, it has to happen within our borders."
"Uh... yes. I suppose so?"
"But after this route passes Igorvich Station, it goes through three separate military zones."
Trains might have been vulnerable to terrorism, but an attack should have been impossible inside a military zone.
The entire route was not surrounded by military territory, but it did pass directly through three military camps.
It was a remnant of the railroad having been designed for military use in the first place.
"And naturally, security becomes tighter the closer you get to the capital. That makes Igorvich Station the weakest point."
"Oh... yes, that makes sense?"
"When is Princess Aesidis scheduled to depart?"
"The noon train in two days."
"Then she'll arrive around ten in the morning four days from now. If I leave now, the timing will be perfect."
Ivan folded the railway map and nodded.
His junior stared blankly at him for a moment, then snickered.
"Do you really know something? It doesn't look like you received an oracle, and I never heard that you could see the future when you were active, Senior. I can send agents to support the counterterrorism operation, but I'll need evidence if I'm going to persuade my superiors."
"Then shall we make a bet?"
"...A bet?"
"No on-site support. Let's just see what happens."
Ivan turned to him with a faint grin.
There could be no evidence. There could be no informant. Yet an attack would happen. It was common sense.
He had neither the time nor the inclination to convince anyone about this. There would be several more instances of this kind of "common sense" in the future, so how could he persuade them every single time?
That was why Ivan decided to settle the matter from the outset. Besides, he was confident.
If no terrorist attack occurred, there would be little burden. He would not have requested support in the first place.
If one did occur, his words would gain real credibility from now on. He would have saved the High King's daughter, after all.
On top of that, High King Einar would not have sent his beloved daughter away alone. Naturally, she would have attendants.
'But if an attack is a constant, that means they must be confident they can deal with every one of Aesidis's attendants.'
He had nothing to lose and much to gain.
It was even a chance to verify whether his academy formula was correct. If a few tests like this failed, then perhaps this was not an academy story after all.
"You really are confident. Fine. I'll keep my hands off for now."
Ivan did not bother to answer. It was only natural that he would not be believed.
No sane anti-government organization carried out terrorist attacks on civilian transport railways.
A train attack consumed an enormous amount of human resources. The moment an incident occurred, everyone involved, along with every human intelligence asset they had spent years or decades building, would be lost.
They would lose far more than they could gain by blowing up a civilian railway.
The same held true even if the goal was to assassinate Great King Einar's precious eldest daughter.
Unlike killing her while she was staying in the country, an incident aboard a train left responsibility somewhat unclear. Diplomatic relations might grow colder, but it would be difficult for the matter to escalate beyond a dispute.
Carrying out a terrorist attack for such a limited goal, only to raise everyone's vigilance for no reason, was nothing but a poor choice. Therefore, the Krasilov Royal Family would not invest beyond minimum security.
That was the common sense of people in this world, a reasonable inference and judgment.
Ivan's common sense was different. This was a formula.
It had been four peaceful years since grim events like terrorist attacks and conflicts vanished alongside the Demon King.
It was not strange that Ivan alone could anticipate something as absurd as a train attack.
Even if a foreign princess was entering the country, they would only prepare the official reception at the capital's station.
"I have to do this three more times."
Ivan let out a deep sigh and headed down to the train platform. Excluding the Saintess, four members of the Hero Party would be arriving from foreign countries.
If terrorism occurred on academy "entrance trains," he had to protect all five of their academy-entry train routes.
What a damned fantasy world.
As Ivan boarded the train, he pressed firmly against the bridge of his nose.
* * *
When Ivan took the train toward the border, his junior headed to the palace to faithfully report to his superior.
"Your Highness. Your servant Dmitry Cherkatov has entered the palace."
"At court, you are the Lord Chamberlain."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
The lavish interior walls were carved from hardwood and gilded.
The office was absurdly spacious for only one person to use.
The office belonging to Princess Elizaveta Kirillovna Krasilov, Iron-Blooded Liza, contained a huge ebony desk adorned with marble and ivory reliefs.
Beyond the desk, which was cluttered with countless documents, a woman moved her pen without interest.
"Make your report."
"Lord Petrovich has departed."
"Tell me something I don't know."
"He suspects a terrorist attack on a train. He was rather specific about the time and location."
At those words, Elizaveta stopped her quill.
"Does Vanka have an informant?"
"No. There has been no sign of one for the last four years."
An intelligence organization was ultimately a matter of human resources. And all human resources were parts that required steady maintenance and proper oiling.
Without any support or management, it was impossible to suddenly identify an "unknown anti-government organization" with precision during an assigned mission.
That meant his actions were all mere conjecture, yet there was a kind of certainty about him.
Just as there had been four years ago, when he left for his final mission.
Just as when he claimed, without evidence, that a terrorist attack was common sense.
Had anyone other than Ivan made that claim, Elizaveta would have called them a madman without a second thought.
"We'll know whether this intelligence is accurate soon enough, but Lord Petrovich is still active, Your Excellency. His edge has not dulled at all."
The reliability of the information was a secondary issue. Ivan had left alone without requesting support, so even if the information proved wrong, there would be no loss.
Dmitry trembled slightly as he recalled something more important. It was from when he had first gone to meet Ivan.
Naturally concealing one's presence without even realizing it was basic training for the Annihilation Unit.
But accurately identifying the position and height of an unseen person beyond a closed door, then deliberately revealing his own presence, ducking out of the line of fire, and preparing a counterattack, was a level of conditioning that was difficult to find even among active agents.
The sticky premonition and dry killing intent he had felt the instant he turned the doorknob made it instinctive to raise his voice and reveal his position to Ivan. If he had kept quiet, an axe blade might have flown at him in the next instant.
"Heh, heh."
A quiet laugh came from across the table.
As Dmitry remembered it, it was the first pleasant laugh he had heard from her in three years.
"Your Excellency...?"
"Assign someone to him. Record Vanka's every movement, down to his most trivial actions, and bring it to me. Submit it as an immediate report, so I may check it at any time."
"Um... if you want to see him that badly, wouldn't it be better to visit him yourself...?"
"If I intended to do that, I would not have spent four years only watching."
Elizaveta gave a faint smile and resumed moving her quill.
"It is right to reunite at a better moment, with more perfect timing."
"Ah, yes..."
"Enough pointless talk. Go protect the country some more, Lord Chamberlain. Are you idle?"
"...Yes, Your Excellency. Your servant Dmitry Cherkatov shall take his leave."
Dmitry withdrew with an uneasy expression.
Really, was receiving reports on someone's every move an honorable or romantic thing to do?
Hoping that his lover would never think that way, Dmitry hurried out of the East Court.
* * *
When the agents Dmitry had dispatched arrived at Igorvich Station, they received three neatly wrapped body bags.
Ivan Petrovich was nowhere to be found at the scene, where even the bloodstains had been meticulously wiped away.
At that moment, Ivan was running through the forest with an axe in hand.
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Footnotes:
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