WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ The Reluctant Imperialist

Chapter 102

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Your Faith (5)

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Johann Georg Goetze.

After returning to Imperial Central University to continue his humanities doctorate, he had lately been unable to put down his pen at night.

Scratch, scratch.

The sound of a nib pressing across paper.

Maximilian had left for western Zerpa. Still, before May ended, he was to return and propose several bills at the Emperor's National Support Council.

Until then, Johann had to do his part. He had to weave the discourse of "the duty of nobles" into this novel.

"A well-written text can become the basis of an ideology all by itself."

Maximilian had said that, and now Johann understood.

At some point, his room had filled with piles of classics and novels.

Just as a masterpiece written three hundred years ago still profoundly influenced specific imperial laws and ethics, literature had the power to cut across eras.

Whether he had that talent himself was another matter...

Scratch, scratch.

In a room thick with the smell of ink, Johann furiously wrote his novel, 「Baltaras」.

[The Empire's nobles bear duty. In the ancient Aran language, this is called Noblesse Oblige. One day, my father recited that sentence, long forgotten now, and gave me this advice.

"When the faces of others are so grotesque that you can hardly bear it, stand in front of a mirror. Look at the one reflected there, and ask yourself whether you are truly qualified..."]

The novel's narrator was "Paul." He was the son of a bourgeois family, an observer and outsider who stepped into imperial high society by chance.

The Baltaras described by Paul was both the protagonist and the perfect image of a noble.

...Yes, Maximilian.

Anyone who knew noble society would recognize Baltaras as Maximilian.

[...In the center of the Empire, on a hill in District 9, stood one vast mansion, the mansion of Baltaras. Every night, splendid banquets were held there, as if all the light in the nation gathered in that one place.]

The "fun of writing" Maximilian had mentioned.

To understand what that meant, Johann devoured not only imperial novels but books published abroad as well. The most popular theme was still love, romance: a prince and princess, or the bittersweet love between a noble and a commoner.

But Johann did not want to write ordinary prose. No, he could not.

He could not give up the ugly side of the imperial nobles and bourgeois elites.

So he chose to weave together two values: love and criticism.

[One day Baltaras came to me and asked whether I knew a young lady named Chloe.]

Baltaras was a noble knight, yet he had loved one woman with complete sincerity.

A girl he had met only briefly in childhood, away from family pressure and the eyes of the world. A woman from dreamlike memories.

[...I told Baltaras the place and time of the meeting. At that moment, the face of the man who seemed to hold all power in the Empire crumbled.

Baltaras, turned into a boy again, kept repeating thank you to me.]

After that, Johann wrote the reunion scene between Chloe and Baltaras.

The two met again after long years. Their brief happiness...

[But even while she was with Baltaras, Chloe could not ignore the shackles of reality tied around her ankles.]

Chloe was bound to another man, "Dyke," through a political marriage arrangement between houses.

He was the typical corrupt and greedy noble. A creature who rampaged while relying only on the bloated power of his house, exactly the kind Maximilian despised without end, and the very mainstream of this Empire.

Johann wrote the clash between the two men.

["Dyke, let me ask you. Between the poor and the rich, who should pay more taxes?"

"Haha. Baltaras, you always say strange things."

"Strange only to someone like you."]

Even as he wrote the dialogue, Maximilian's voice rang vividly in Johann's ears.

His ideology, his complete qualification and dignity, flowed from Baltaras's mouth like a song.

["Those who have more must give more, and those who stand higher must carry heavier weight. Even without saying it, that is close to natural law.

Baltaras spoke. His upright eyes pierced Dyke.

But in the Empire now, too many people refuse to do that. They grew up within the Empire's warm fence, nourished by the Empire itself, yet greedily suck up only the fruit and abandon responsibility and duty."]

Johann's pen scratched the paper.

[Dyke's lips twitched unnaturally as he stared at him.

A twisted, snake-like face, an ugly self-portrait.]

The fake hated the real.

Perhaps because that nobility reflected his own ugliness.

Scratch. Scratch.

From that point on, Johann sank into his novel, into a "world" beyond the novel.

Baltaras was Maximilian. A noble who knew noble responsibility and duty.

Dyke, on the other hand, was the vulgarity of imperial society itself.

Scratch. Scratch.

Johann himself became Paul, watching them, and his pen moved on its own.

Before his eyes, Baltaras and Dyke appeared like real people.

Scratch. Scratch.

Blue particles formed in the sentences carved into the manuscript.

Mana rose in droplets and dampened his pupils.

It was immersion so deep that mana filled it.

* * *

Reception room of the Zerpa Royal Palace.

"Nice to meet you... Sir Knight Maximilian of the Empire."

A young crown prince welcomed me. As I had heard, he had striking blond hair and blue eyes, but no strength in his gaze.

I handed him the letter from the Berton garrison and went straight to the point.

"The offensive begins in three weeks. First, the Imperial army will strike the front near Valdes Plain from the outside. At that time, I ask the Royalist faction army to push out from inside in response."

"..."

The crown prince stayed silent, so I asked again.

"Is there a problem?"

"...I know the Empire has no real interest in Zerpa."

He added in a self-mocking voice.

"And the generals who claim to serve this monarchy do not care whether the nation falls or the monarchy collapses. They only care about keeping their own power and grabbing wealth."

His judgment was accurate. The military clinging to the Royalist faction was stagnant rot.

Parasites that set up the crown prince as a puppet and lined their own pockets behind him.

I took out paper and a pen from inside my coat.

"...Is that so."

I wrote silently.

"To be honest, I also think the Empire has no intention of giving proper support to the Royalist faction..."

[You are being wiretapped. The offensive is in two weeks, and the front we will strike is the Alcantara Road.]

"..."

Ebenholtz mana quietly swept through the space and identified the wiretap without much difficulty. Probably an internal enemy connected to the Republican faction.

Compared to Yukia, this was very clumsy work.

Thank you, Yukia. Thanks to you, this kind of sensing seemed to have sharpened.

"It is regrettable, especially with Zerpa's king hovering near death."

[The Empire supports the monarchy. That legitimacy rests only with Your Highness.]

I kept writing sentences that did not match my spoken words.

"Our objective is Your Highness's exile."

[Among the generals in the Royalist faction military, there are people the Empire has taken notice of.]

Even in a place like this, there were still talents worth using. At least not everyone could be rotten.

For me, separating traitorous ministers from loyal ones was easy.

Before my regression, the Zerpa civil war had drawn a lot of attention inside the Empire, and I knew the generals executed when the monarchy fell.

In other words, the men who gave their lives were the king's loyalists.

Brigadier General Esf. Major General Sellier. Both are nobles devoted to the monarchy, and both studied in the Empire.]

"If Your Highness refuses exile, there is nothing we can do."

[The Empire is Your Highness's only lifeline.]

The crown prince's eyes wavered.

He was incompetent. Royal authority had fallen to the ground, and he had no power to control the military. He was a man born weak.

That made him useful.

If an incompetent person sat on the throne, the Empire could control things as it pleased.

[The Imperial army will move soon. We will break the encirclement quickly and give Your Highness what you want.]

Soon, the crown prince raised his gaze and looked at me. I showed no insolence, no disrespect. I did not lose my posture of respect.

What the crown prince wanted was treatment worthy of royalty.

The weaker a person was at heart, the more they wanted to lean on a strong person who treated them as precious.

[The Empire only needs your faith.]

"...I need a little time to think."

The crown prince said that and nodded. Resolve settled into his eyes.

It meant he did not need time to think at all.

* * *

The 7th Imperial Guard Battalion in Berton finished communication with the Durkon Legion and completed deployment preparations in an instant.

Under Lieutenant Colonel Han's strict command, the battalion had tightened discipline for some time, and its movements were as precise as gears. Even relations with local villagers were surprisingly smooth.

"Gairsie! Gairsie!"

The children were not afraid of the soldiers. They waved instead, thanking them. The chocolate Lieutenant Colonel Han had worked hard to secure had worked wonders.

There was no propaganda more efficient than buying goodwill from children, and no weapon better than chocolate for buying it.

"Sir, urgent report from the recon unit."

The adjutant ran up in a hurry.

"General Richter has pulled back his forces. He is retreating to his main unit."

Richter. The master commander of the Republican faction had withdrawn.

"He probably got word that the Durkon Legion was advancing."

War was an information battle. Victory and defeat were decided by how quickly and accurately you read the enemy's intent. Richter had sensed the Imperial main force's movement and tried to preserve his troops before the encirclement broke.

Still, he moved much faster than expected. As expected of a general seasoned by every kind of battlefield.

"We move out too."

"Yes, sir!"

The soldiers advanced in silence.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

The steady sound of military boots echoed in fixed cadence. Their weapons were the latest rifles produced at the Aternum Factory, supplies and ammunition were fully stocked, and they had repeated countless live-combat drills before being deployed here.

Most of all, there was certain reward waiting for those who risked their lives.

Confidence and morale overflowed in their eyes. No one from Berton had any intention of dying on the battlefield.

They intended only to kill.

...

Kwoooooom!

The Durkon Legion arrived at its objective, Alcantara Road, like a gale. The moment they reached that strategic route to Zerpa's capital, the legion unleashed overwhelming firepower.

"Flatten all of it."

At Major General Schweitzer's order, the earth overturned. New-model magic artillery spat fire, and mages from the Magic Tower cast wide-area spells.

From the opposite side, the Berton unit advanced. They attacked the encirclement with disciplined movements. At the same time, the king's forces poured out from inside the capital.

"Advance!"

A blitz striking the enemy from inside and outside at once.

In that chaos, the Empire's knights maneuvered.

I did not have the knights wear Sentinel uniforms.

One of the Empire's stupidest habits in using knights was obsession with uniforms. Because of that damned pride that refused to give up uniforms in war, knights had become visible target boards.

But I gave Leon and the Year 0s artifact armor enhanced with lightweighting and camouflage magic.

We moved in stealth and wiped out the enemy's high-value personnel. Commanders, swordsmen, mages, and also tanks, batteries, and more... The Republican faction army, which had trusted internal wiretap intelligence, collapsed rapidly.

Even so, General Richter's reinforcements arrived in time and launched fierce resistance, but in the full-scale battle, the Imperial army and monarchy succeeded in completely taking Alcantara Road.

It was the Royalist faction's first victory.

Still, the front line dividing north and south Zerpa remained. The significance of taking Alcantara Road was that it broke the encirclement linked to the Empire.

At least now, unlike before my regression, civilians would not starve to death. I had the wealth to pour supplies into Zerpa.

Crackle. Crackle.

A land thick with gun smoke. Sparks burned here and there, and the groans of wounded men mixed into this place of death.

I stood there and slowly swept my eyes over the battlefield.

My impression... it was always damn awful.

But I had to get used to it. From now on, the Empire would only become this shattered.

Step.

Then someone started walking toward me from afar.

"Sir Knight Maximilian."

Durkon Legion commander, Schweitzer.

He approached with a stiff face. I met him and nodded.

"You worked hard."

"..."

But he did not hide his displeasure. He had been pushed around by my letter and forced to come here, so his pride was hurt.

"The Durkon Legion was just as I had heard."

Like Leon said, Durkon was one of the harshest legions in the Empire. Slaughtering civilians was not something people with ordinary nerves could do.

"Your speed was impressive."

Their commander, Major General Schweitzer, was also a master of speed warfare. He was among the youngest in the general officer line and had excellent combat instincts, but he committed cruel acts so easily it made you wonder if he lacked something emotional.

Civilian massacres, execution of prisoners, looting.

Schweitzer was a Class-1 war criminal, like Johann.

After the Empire fell, he was among the so-called "first death-row prisoners" hanged first at the war crimes tribunal.

"...There was an order from the Imperial Palace."

His figure overlapped with the memory of his trial before my regression.

[I only did what I did best. I was the best at it. In the end, none of you beat me, and that proves it.]

He had mocked allied generals one by one, without a hint of repentance.

[I! Never! Lost to you even once!]

Those were his last words.

"It was a special mission from the palace. Thanks to it, I even risked falling out of favor with the palace by coming here."

"Was that so."

"Could Sir Knight compensate me a bit? I heard you gave out all sorts of things in Gennen."

How you handled people depended on the person.

I could not know everyone completely, but still, my greatest weapon was information.

I recalled a book I had read before my regression, 「Faces of the Imperial Era」. It devoted quite a lot of pages to Schweitzer, who had been a Class-1 war criminal.

"Major General Schweitzer."

I stepped closer and looked straight into his eyes from right in front of him.

"As you already know, Major General."

You must never attempt negotiation with Schweitzer.

He was not the kind of man negotiation worked on.

"Imperial generals do not receive orders from the palace."

You also must not offer Schweitzer material appeasement.

He did not care much for wealth.

"They follow only the will of Imperial Headquarters."

Despite his bald head, Schweitzer had a solid build. We stood eye to eye, and even facing me, his gaze did not shake.

That meant he was not an easy soldier to handle.

"Was the order you received truly His Majesty's?"

So instead, you had to treat him as if you would crush him.

Because he was a soldier of dangerous ability and temperament, I had to be ready to kill him first.

"Or was it from some unnamed noble residing in the palace?"

Now, depending on how he answered, Schweitzer's fate would be decided.

If he said it was the Emperor's order when it was not, that was execution for treason.

If it was an order from some unnamed noble living in the palace, that too was backroom overreach.

So he stayed silent.

"Major General. As the Empire's sword, a knight has the authority to monitor military discipline."

I lowered my voice.

"If you moved troops according to the private will of a mere palace retainer, someone with no relation to the military at all, not Headquarters. If that is why you planned to stay buried here instead of advancing."

Schweitzer.

This war criminal was the classic type that could only be controlled by gripping the leash tight.

"Then right now. Under wartime military law and the code of imperial knights."

Again, my greatest weapon was information from the future.

Not only Schweitzer as a person, but the full life trajectories of all Class-1 war criminals were carved into me.

Their weaknesses, strengths, and even what they liked were clear in my head.

"It means I now have the authority to cut off your head."

Shing!

I drew the longsword wrapped in bandages. In that space where moonlight mixed with gun smoke and ran down, the white bandages spread and coiled between us like blossoms.

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