WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ The Reluctant Imperialist

Chapter 162

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Blizzard (4)

Capital District 3, my residence on the wealthy von Kleinschmidt Street.

[I'll treasure it as a gift. Thank you~]

It was a reply from Yelena.

I stroked Leo on my lap and set the parchment down.

This was about the only opportunity I could offer Yelena right now.

Before my regression, I had only read about the Great Purge in books. I could guess the broad course of events, but I had no way of knowing the exact details of how it would unfold.

She would have to save herself with this parchment.

"The Great Purge..."

The incident that would drench the Eastern Alliance in blood. In that raging bloodstorm, Lobrus's Ebenholtz, House Yumanov, would be destroyed.

The reason was simple. Kirov Yumanov, the man known to the world as Yelena's father, was a man of immense ambition. If Izenheim was General Secretary, he could never let that stand.

In that sense, the difference between Yumanov and Ebenholtz came down to the house head.

Sebestian was different from them. He cast aside ambition. Instead, he became the Emperor's sword with complete sincerity. He accepted every word of the Emperor with humility, and made every thought of the Emperor his own.

A loyal subject whose devotion served a greater cause, one of the finest in imperial history.

"..."

A thought crossed my mind.

Someone may revere him for life, while someone else may curse him forever.

Yet either way, simply by standing beside you, that person becomes the greatest influence on your life.

"...That is called a father."

Sebestian had never loved me. He had never helped me either. At some point, I stopped wanting those things.

Crushed by constant judgment and impossibly high standards, I had become a worthless wreck, soft as rotten tofu.

But after living through all that and returning to this world again.

Sebestian had frustrated me. I could not understand him.

He had let go of palace affairs and politics, and even when the Emperor was wrapped around the fingers of sycophants and waged absurd wars, he still served in silence. I even found him pathetic.

But if Sebestian had carried the same uncontrollable greed and ambition as Kirov Yumanov.

Or if he had been an ambitious man who could not let go of his own power and ego...

Would I have been purged too, like Yelena in the past?

That was why Sebestian was always a contradiction to me.

He was never a proper father. He had never held me warmly, never called my name with affection.

Yet the power and authority that let me pursue great ambition in the center of the Empire right now were rooted in the flawless loyalty Sebestian built through his own devotion.

I hated him, yet without his shadow, I could accomplish nothing.

That was exactly why I was Sebestian's son.

* * *

...A bitter wind swept through the imperial center.

A blizzard so fierce you could not see even an inch ahead.

Deputy Commander Anton's hearing was near, and the mood inside the Sentinel Order was as fragile as thin ice.

Every time they walked the halls, rested in the break room, or headed out on deployment, anyone could feel the invisible lines drawn tight between the knights.

Commoner-born knights supported Anton, their only hope, while noble-born knights rallied around Kairon, the new power.

"Hanna."

While Hanna was making coffee, a senior knight from Anton's faction approached her. His name was Cliff, a ninth-year knight. He looked desperate for even one more knight's support.

Just as he grabbed her shoulder and started to speak.

"Just go, Hanna."

Tiana suddenly appeared and stepped in front of him.

She waved Cliff away, then whispered to Hanna.

"If you can, stay out of this mud fight. Knights are solo operators anyway. Everyone survives on their own."

"...Yes."

Tiana was now a full second-year, and Hanna had just shed her year-zero tag.

Inside the Order, the difference in tenure was only about a year, but the depth of their experience and the way they saw the world were clearly different.

"Hanna. Want to get dinner tonight?"

"No. I've been really busy lately. I practically live in the cafeteria."

The truth was, she needed to save money. She still had a lot of gear to buy.

"Really? That's too bad. See you later, then."

Hanna returned to her office.

[Knight Hanna Usar]

Compared to her year-zero days, she had grown a lot. More space, more equipment, more furnishings.

More than anything, she liked the higher salaries for her administrative and operations staff. It meant she had become someone who could provide that much for others.

"Slurp."

Sipping her coffee, Hanna stared quietly at the wall.

On her desk, original family registry certificates for her staff were lined up neatly. Hers was there too.

All of them were genuine, after strict verification by imperial government offices.

Hanna was from a remote imperial backwater, and because of that, her bloodline was very pure.

In a barren, rotting frontier village, there was no reason for subspecies like Izenheim or other races, drawn by the smell of money, to crawl in.

What a ridiculous bunch.

Lately, Hanna had started to understand the phrase, parasites that suck up only the Empire's sweet sap and fruit.

If they just farmed in the provinces and lived quietly, fine. Instead, they forced their way into the center, all trying to make a big score. Swindlers everywhere.

"...Sir. We identified a few more suspicious people."

At that moment, an operations officer brought in a few more photos. Hanna pinned them to the corkboard with thumbtacks.

"Just like you said, sir, after checking their legal domicile records, we strongly suspect they're Izenheim."

Hanna was no saint, but she always remembered the ones who scammed poor people like her. Loan sharks who bled commoners dry, predatory merchants who targeted broke students, frauds.

"Tell the informants to track their movements. We will get physical evidence or testimony."

"Yes, sir."

After the officer left, Hanna sat in her chair and sank into thought.

Jacob.

It had started with that bastard.

A subspecies who wore the mask of a classmate and tried to frame her. It had been years already, but Hanna still could not understand his malice.

What did I ever do to you?

...Crunch.

Grinding her teeth, Hanna looked at the photos of those she had sent to Knight Court and had executed.

[Ezra, male, 57 years old]

Back at Empire Point, that vicious scammer stole the hard-earned pocket money of hundreds of poor commoner cadets by pretending he would mail letters home for them, then ran.

[Autopsy result: Subspecies, mana-mutated heart confirmed]

Autopsy result: subspecies.

Root tracing result: Izenheim.

[Leah, female, 33 years old]

A predatory pharmacist in the slums on the outskirts of the capital who sold cheap mana painkillers as miracle cures, then forced side-effect sufferers into loan-shark debt by taking their organs as collateral.

[Autopsy result: Subspecies, mana-mutated heart confirmed]

Same again, subspecies by autopsy.

Bloodline back-trace, again Izenheim.

"Interesting."

Tak. Hanna set down her coffee cup.

She stared at the photos pinned to the board.

By strange coincidence, every one of them was Izenheim, but many still remained.

The Empire was full of trash that needed to be hunted down and killed.

"Knight Hanna Usar. If your conclusion is right, do not care about means or methods."

Out of nowhere, Maximilian's words from long ago rang in her ears.

"We do not have much time, and you have your own power and authority."

I have my own authority.

Hanna Usar felt she was only now beginning to understand what those words meant.

* * *

The confirmation hearing for Deputy Commander Anton as the next commander finally began.

It began under a strict closed-door principle.

Anton was called in alone to the deepest sealed chamber of the Imperial Palace.

A brutal, grinding process. Two weeks in private session, then three days in public session, then a final private review before the appointment was confirmed.

Through people inside the palace, I could receive updates on Anton's situation. No need to say who.

...I know one curly-haired guy very well. You know, Leutern II.

Day one.

When Anton came out of the chamber after the long hearing, many Sentinel knights approached him. The knights who respected him asked him all kinds of questions, but Anton kept his mouth shut.

From what I heard, the contents of his letters with Eastern Alliance scholars and friends in the Western Republic had all been leaked, and every sentence was dissected and used against him.

Anton defended himself, but one of his friends appeared as a witness and betrayed him.

"Anyway, that's what they're saying inside~ Want to know what was in the letters? I can tell you~"

Those were the words of an insider whose identity I could not reveal.

Day two.

Kents Bertem and Imperial Guard officers appeared as palace-side witnesses to attack Anton's ideology. The distortions and sophistry pouring from their mouths carried through even the thick iron doors.

"Wow~ Kents was vicious. Looks like the Imperial Guard officers really had it out for Anton too~ But Kents is a complete idiot. The more I see him, the more of an idiot he is. Ah, and if he asks you for a Lilac Vita reservation ticket, never give it to him..."

That day, I watched Anton's exhausted back from far away as he left the palace and headed home. Probably not just me. Plenty of Sentinel knights must have been watching too.

Day three.

This time, witnesses favorable to Anton from the Order took the stand. Jerome, a representative figure among commoner knights, was among them.

They testified to Anton's innocence, chivalry, and loyalty.

"I heard knights cried. You know, that furry one. I mean, crying over this? Honestly, ridiculous~"

According to Leutern II, several people actually shed tears.

Days four and five were off days.

I thought I'd be called around the second week, but during that break, the palace summoned me directly.

"Knight Maximilian."

The man who greeted me in the sealed chamber was the Emperor's closest aide, Chief Secretary Kurt Grossman.

"The Order has been noisy over Anton's hearing, so your mind must already be occupied. Calling you in on a day off is unfortunate. But this matter is something His Majesty personally wanted, so we had no choice."

"Think nothing of it. If it is His Majesty's will, anything at all."

I nodded firmly.

I was imitating Sebestian. Pretending to hold loyalty only for the Emperor.

In truth, whenever Sebestian spoke of the Emperor, this was exactly the expression he wore.

"...Still, this time it is a rather dangerous mission."

A cold smile rose at the corner of Grossman's mouth.

"At the same time, it is politically very difficult diplomacy."

Dangerous and difficult.

If he said so, it surely was. Yet his face, as he handed it to me, looked oddly pleased.

"Yes. Please give your command."

I answered calmly, but even I felt tension rising inside.

"Lobrus, the hegemon of the Eastern Alliance."

Grossman began there. As he spoke, he offered me a premium cigar, but I politely declined.

"So you do not smoke. This is a miracle cure that burns away stress."

"Tell me any time if you need it later. I run my own cigar farm."

He lit one and drew in a deep breath of smoke.

"...Knight Maximilian. His Majesty wants the eastern threat targeting our Empire's rear to be reduced for certain."

Tok, tok. He tapped the continental map laid out on the desk with his fingers.

"The East is vast, so short-term occupation is close to impossible. Meanwhile, the western alliance states sit too close to the Empire's heart. If the Empire goes to war with the East first..."

Then the western alliance would stab straight into the Empire's heart.

So we had to avoid a two-front war and secure the rear first.

It was exactly right.

"By good timing, Yumanov, a key figure in the East, came to the Empire on her own. Naturally, that gave us reason to make contact with their side."

Grossman exhaled cigar smoke and stared straight at me.

"Maximilian. Can you go directly to Lobrus?"

"...Me?"

"Yes. Observe the grim situation there in detail, and if possible..."

He let the words trail off with a sly tone. At that moment, I understood the core of this mission.

It was that.

"Nonaggression."

At my answer, Grossman gave a deep smile, as if I had nailed it.

"You really are quick. But considering the East's current attitude, even bringing that up will be very difficult."

Outwardly, they cursed and denounced the Imperial Civil Law like mad.

Diplomacy and trade still existed between us, but they would think nonaggression was not a matter either side could even mention lightly.

"Still, all you need to do is secure a clear foothold for negotiation."

I swallowed the laughter rising in my chest.

An almost impossible mission.

That was what the old palace foxes and the Emperor would think. By the common sense of this moment, they were right. If you could read imperial and continental affairs, it looked like the East had absolutely no reason to sign a nonaggression pact with the Empire.

Maybe this whole mission was a trick by those Imperial Guard bastards to wound me politically.

"It is very difficult. We all know that."

On the contrary, Varmil Makstun of the Eastern Alliance would welcome this proposal.

Because of the Great Purge.

During the chaotic vacuum when the military shook and generals were beheaded, he would desperately need one thing: a firm guarantee that the Empire would not strike from behind.

From the Empire's side, it was the same. Even if the East's military power was temporarily paralyzed by the Great Purge, provoking that giant bear carelessly was suicide. Lobrus had an enormous population and vast territory.

More than anything, the moment the Empire launched a preemptive strike on the East, western states would unite against the imperial threat. That was the worst possible outcome.

"..."

I closed my eyes and took a slow breath.

Diplomacy that looked impossible, yet was not difficult.

Still, I could not show that. I had to act the opposite.

"What is your opinion?"

Grossman asked.

I quietly opened my eyes. Clenching my teeth and barely holding back a smile, I answered.

"If it is the path for His Majesty, I will gladly carry that burden."

"...As expected of you. Maximilian of Ebenholtz."

To Grossman, who was likewise wearing a resolute expression, I added one last line.

"Only for the Empire..."

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