The Reluctant Imperialist - Chapter 114

WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ The Reluctant Imperialist

Chapter 114

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Path of Dreams (3)

Whoosh.

On the rooftop of a building where a dark wind kept blowing.

I stood there, looking out over the Empire at night. It was the mood of a nation that had endured for a thousand years and was slowly rotting away. The lights of a fortress that, without even realizing it, had become a breakwater for all humanity...

Then I sensed someone approaching from behind.

"...Max."

It was Kairon.

"Will this be all right?"

He was a man with sharp eyes and ears for political currents. Ambitious, and careful because of it.

Now that we had launched the operation, he was worried about the palace's reaction.

"They still watch the Sentinel Order's response. They have to."

Kairon sighed at my firm answer.

"But the palace Imperial Guard-"

I cut him off and closed my eyes.

"I cannot tolerate them."

I had prepared many lines through Johann. This operation would pour all of it out through Jemion Daily.

"Those bastards who defiled the Sentinel knights, who stained Aran's spirit, all that rotten filth eating away at the Empire..."

Anger on the surface, carefully calculated justification underneath.

The genius of propaganda, Johann Georg Goetze, was now on my side. As long as I had justification, I had nothing to fear.

"I cannot forgive them."

"..."

Kairon was silent for a moment. In his deep eyes, countless calculations seemed to move.

"Maximilian."

The night wind rolled in like moonlight and brushed our clothes as he called my name.

Almost two years had passed since my regression, and before I knew it, it was already my second October.

"This reminds me of when I first met you."

"Back then, I thought you were just a weak young noble, exactly what the Empire Point instructors said. I figured you might coast on the Ebenholtz name."

It was unusually frank for him.

"I was completely wrong."

I gave a faint smile.

The absurd miracle called regression. My final conversation with Edmund.

My cause, one I could not forget even for a moment: humanity's survival.

That was what had brought me here.

"..."

Kairon watched me for a while, then slowly came to stand beside me.

Not in a straight line.

One step behind.

Subtle, but unmistakable distance.

"I will stand behind you."

Honestly, that line was almost funny. The Kairon of now could not help me much.

Still, Kairon himself seemed sincere, and more importantly, Kairon in the future would be a major asset.

He was a man whose ability matched his ambition.

"...Thank you."

* * *

Cartel money laundering worked like clockwork.

First, drugs smuggled into the Empire spread across the eastern, central, and western borders. The profits were laundered through shell companies scattered across local regions.

In that process, funds were split and mixed dozens of times. They were disguised under plausible labels like payments for winning art auction bids, down payments on real estate investments, and overseas trade settlements, then transformed into clean imperial dollars that could no longer be traced.

That refined money flowed first into the Imperial Guard's secret accounts.

"...It has been deposited."

Inside Imperial Guard Commander Goebel's office.

At his adjutant's report, Goebel smiled in satisfaction. He checked the account records, then closed the file.

"By the way, Commander. How about that place? The bank that's been famous in Kanillan lately..."

"You mean Kronen Schatzinsel."

"Yes. The Imperial Bank is risky now. No one knows when that monster of a man will pull something strange again."

The adjutant spoke with concern.

That monster of a man meant Maximilian Ebenholtz.

Sebestian was the Emperor's eternal loyalist, so he did not touch the Imperial Guard, one of the Emperor's pillars of power. But Maximilian was different.

He cherry-picked companies the Imperial Guard had been eyeing, then used them to strengthen the regular army instead.

"...Do not call him a monster."

Goebel adjusted his monocle and spoke quietly.

"He is only a twenty-two-year-old knight. There is no need to fear him enough to invent some grand narrative. He is just a lucky brat with a good bloodline."

The adjutant nodded quietly.

"It is too early for Kanillan. Watch a little longer, then move. Finish this job cleanly first."

"Yes, sir."

Half of the funds offered up by the cartel and others was used for Imperial Guard operating costs and the executives' lifestyle expenses. The other half was kicked further up.

The Imperial Guard was a pipeline linking the palace and high noble society.

The mansion of the great House Bertem.

A powerful noble house favored by the Emperor, one that could stand beside Ebenholtz, Kandel, and Runselot. Kents Bertem, second son of House Bertem and one axis of the Imperial Guard, picked up a cash envelope from a tray.

"More than usual today?"

He weighed the envelope in his hand and asked, puzzled.

"Yes. I heard there was especially much to offer this month."

At the butler's careful reply, he smirked.

"Hm. Good."

His curiosity was shallow. There was no reason to think deeply. The source of this money had nothing to do with him.

Whether it had been squeezed from someone's life or stained with blood, all that mattered was his wallet growing thicker and his vault filling up.

"Still, Maximilian has been a problem lately. Strutting around like he's king."

Ken grumbled as he put the money into the vault.

"...His Majesty seems to like him."

"The old man finds him cute because the brat does tricks. He found one mine and now he's full of himself."

Sebestian of House Ebenholtz was, of course, worthy of respect.

A hero of the Empire, a general who had never lost.

Still, even Sebestian was only a general, and Maximilian was not Sebestian.

"That squirrel-looking little punk..."

Ken crossed his legs and swirled his wine glass.

...

A secret airfield hidden deep in the mountains. Three transport aircraft stood on a foggy runway.

Around them, Sentinel knights in plain clothes gathered. Maximilian had said, "It's time to drop the uniform obsession," and Kairon had issued it as an order.

"Everyone's here."

Maximilian and his attendants distributed equipment first. It was a black suit with a smooth texture.

"This is the latest wingsuit."

The knights touched the wingsuits with curious eyes.

"It is made of special fiber with maximized mana conductivity. It dramatically improves aerial mobility, and it also resonates with the wearer's mana circuit to guarantee stability during flight."

A product created by the best minds at Lorenzo Academy. But Maximilian had added one condition.

"Knights care deeply about appearance, so it has to look good when worn. It cannot look ridiculous, like a flying squirrel."

Thanks to that, the wingsuit had excellent design as well as function. The knights looked pleased.

"Each suit has been precisely tailored to your body size and mana traits. Also, if you channel mana into this specific point, it compresses for easy carrying. After the operation, you may keep it as personal property."

At that, everyone folded the wingsuit tucked at their side a little more carefully.

Right after, Kairon stepped forward.

"The main force will split into five. Three units will descend on cartel capo hideouts and behead them."

He pointed to key spots on the operation map. Pellier, Costa, and Kunta. The hideouts of the three capos called the cartel's three heads.

"The other two are detachments. They will strike mid-level officers spread like a web across Berkina at the same time. Each knight is equivalent to a company-level force, so detailed tactics are left to individual skill."

The doors of the three transport aircraft opened. The knights split up and boarded in perfect order.

"Remember the rules of engagement. Harm to innocent civilians is strictly forbidden. But if anyone cooperates with the cartel or helps them, treat them as enemies and execute immediately."

The engines roared.

Engines under the wings burned through the thick fog as they flared up. The transports took off like birds and rose into the night sky.

A quiet, focused drop of human firepower, enough to crush the cartel that dared touch an imperial knight.

Path of Dreams, bound by Egilon's death, would paint Berkina's night streets in blood, and the ruined aftermath...

would be swallowed by them.

...

Kalianros waited quietly in a bunker beneath Berkina. He calmed his pounding heart and prepared for the coming battle.

"Do you trust them?"

Suddenly, Yulian asked from across from him.

"...Yes?"

"I mean, do you trust the men under your command?"

"Yes. I trust them."

Kalo answered without hesitation.

The members he gathered were people who had lost family to the cartel, people whose lives had been crushed. He had deliberately embraced those armed with the strongest motive of all: revenge.

"The cartel bastards do not understand this. Drunk on immediate pleasure, they forget that one day their crimes return as blades at their throats."

People with that kind of grudge overflowed in Berkina's underworld.

Enough to raise an army from them alone.

"What I asked is whether you can truly trust all of them."

Yulian pressed him.

Trust was the hardest thing of all. In a place where betrayal was routine, not everyone you trusted could be loyal.

Kalo moved his fingers, then gave a faint smile.

"...To be honest, I have one secret."

"A secret?"

At least with these people from the bottom, it was easy for me to tell truth from lies... It does not work on you, Knight Yulian.

A thought came to Yulian.

"Are you Yaken, by any chance?"

Kalo's face stiffened at once. His brow twitched, like his secret had been exposed.

He answered with a sigh.

"...Yes. Mixed blood. I have hidden it this whole time because it does not show much in my appearance, luckily. How did you know?"

"Yaken usually have at least one little trick like that."

Yulian's gaze moved to Kalo's wrist. A strange bracelet hung there, as if carved from human bone.

"If it is not bad taste, then it is probably a Yaken tradition."

"Ah..."

Kalo touched the bracelet and gave a bitter smile.

"Could you keep it secret? I know very well how Imperials see subspecies..."

"It's fine."

Yulian shook his head.

"Maximilian. He despises eastern races and is feared by subspecies and many other minorities. He believes in racial hierarchy more than anyone."

His gaze deepened.

"But in some ways, he is lenient. Yaken might actually become his friend."

"...Really?"

"Yes. He likes capable dogs."

Yulian looked up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes for a moment, lost in thought, then lowered his gaze again.

"Kalo."

"Yes."

"This place will be your world before long, so remember one thing."

He did not consider the operation failing.

Because Yulian trusted Maximilian.

"Unjust control, or corruption blinded by greed, will turn us into your enemy."

Weight settled into Yulian's voice.

"The reason he kept you alive is that you are useful and controllable. The moment you cross the line, you will die more miserably than Ashton."

It was both warning and advice. Kalo nodded with a serious face.

"Do not worry. Also, I..."

He looked at Yulian and replied.

"I fear you more, and trust you more, than Knight Maximilian, whom I have only met a few times."

"..."

Yulian said nothing. Not even the slightest shift in expression as he looked at him. Dry, unreadable eyes. Silence was his answer.

* * *

Inside the transport aircraft, it was relatively quiet. Wind striking steel rippled like static.

Eight knights waiting to deploy sat and steadied themselves in their own ways. One moved his head to a rhythm, another folded his arms and took deep breaths.

I watched them and waited for the moment.

"Drop point."

Then the pilot shouted.

The ramp opened.

The cabin rattled.

Gale and noise burst in. Massive air churned through the cabin. My shout tore through the pressure.

"Descend in assigned order!"

One person, at the assigned position.

"Raynel, descend!"

One person.

"Zionne, descend!"

Another.

"Royce, descend!"

They jumped one by one. It looked unimpressive at a glance, but the moment they hit the ground, each would unleash destructive force greater than dozens of tanks.

Shhhhhhh-

The knights vanished into Berkina's night sky.

Now only Kairon and I remained in the transport.

"Knight Kairon."

I called him over the wind. I had something to tell him.

Kairon turned to me.

"I have thought carefully about what you said to me that day."

The gale struck hard.

The gale whipped our clothes.

"That you would stand behind me."

"...That's right."

Kairon nodded gravely. He had decided to tie himself to the line called Maximilian.

More than the background called Ebenholtz, he had staked his ambition on Maximilian's personal potential.

Then.

"For your sake, I will bury my anger for now. I want to tear apart the Imperial Guard and the palace dogs taking dirty money, along with the cartel..."

I spoke as if forcing myself to hold back.

Either way, I had to maintain some level of ties with the palace. Until my power grew larger. Until I could cut their throats for certain.

"At the scene, we will probably find piles of evidence in ledger form. But about their accumulated bribes and all the corruption they have committed so far, I will keep silent. I will endure it."

If I gave the palace and Imperial Guard a way out, what we would extract in return was clear.

"What we get is..."

What Kairon wanted most.

I looked straight into Kairon's eyes and said it.

"Unconditional support from the palace for the position of commander of the Sentinel Order."

At that instant, Kairon's eyes widened. Bright starlight filled the pupils of a man nearing his late thirties.

It was a burdensome sight, but it showed how vast his dream was.

"...Yes. If that is your will."

His trembling hand rested on my shoulder. I looked up at the sky again.

"Yes."

My father, Sebestian, was a knight, yet he abandoned the order to serve only the Emperor.

But I would make the Sentinel Order my foundation. I would hold the Empire's sharpest sword.