WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Reluctant Imperialist

Chapter 63

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Enemy of the Empire (3)

Inside the military building, I watched Arnold leave with Anton.

“Will this be alright?”

Colonel Keynes asked.

“Letting him walk away like that...”

I turned to look at him. He could not even meet my eyes.

“His disciple’s letters were too weak to use as evidence. If I had suppressed Arnold over that, only my own prestige would have taken the hit.”

The palace’s direct agency had probably wanted exactly that.

If the heir of Ebenholtz followed the palace’s wishes without resistance, palace authority would naturally rise, while Ebenholtz’s standing would be cut down.

But I had no intention of playing along with their pathetic political games.

The palace’s will was not His Majesty’s will. From the start, those bastards were nothing but treacherous opportunists, pretending to serve the imperial household while chasing their own interests.

“But the Agency-”

“Colonel Keynes.”

He still looked uneasy, and I cut him off.

“Do you think the Agency stands above me?”

Keynes’s face turned pale. He straightened his back and shook his head.

“No, it does not.”

“Good. Then we are done.”

Honestly, it had irritated me.

From the moment a mere department head from some agency dared to order me around. From the day I had to face that rude expression, chin raised, eyes wide, not a shred of manners.

I never planned to cooperate with them quietly. This was not just a matter of noble pride.

How high did I need to climb? And where did I need to stop?

I still did not know the answer.

But one thing was clear.

Every action I took built my power.

If I wanted to rule as one of the strong, I had to show a form worthy of it.

That meant I could not tolerate some gutter rat trying to crawl up at me.

* * *

The next day, a guest came to my estate. It was that department head from the direct agency stationed in the palace.

He showed up without an appointment, gave a shallow bow, and stepped inside. I led him to the reception room.

A servant set teacups on our table.

“What is it?”

“You already know.”

His tone was disrespectful.

“About Arnold?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

“It couldn’t be helped. The hard evidence was too weak.”

The department head stared quietly at his teacup.

Come to think of it, I did not even know this man’s name.

“You have disappointed the imperial household’s expectations.”

A laugh escaped me.

“Not the imperial household. The palace.”

His eyebrow twitched.

“May I ask why?”

“Simple.”

I held my teacup and looked at him.

“Arnold is a noble useful to the Empire.”

I met his eyes and continued.

“And you are just a petty commoner.”

This man was a commoner. The traces were still there.

“No matter how much you hide your origins, no matter how hard you paint over yourself until you fool even yourself, some things never change. Some things can never change.”

His posture and manners were polished enough, but speech was the core. Accent.

“You were born different.”

The way a man spoke for over a decade from the moment he was born. No matter how he hid it, it never vanished. That faint southern commoner accent of the Empire.

I sensed it by instinct.

“Was it an inferiority complex?”

“......”

The department head glared at me.

“Did you think forcing an imperial noble to kneel would give you some kind of thrill?”

His pupils shook.

“That thought was so pathetic I couldn’t even humor you. It was childish.”

Mocking his laughable intentions, I set my teacup down.

Click.

The sharp sound cut through the silence in the room.

“...You are mistaken.”

“You are the one who’s mistaken.”

I leaned forward.

“Think carefully. Just because you’re in the palace doesn’t make you royal.”

“His Majesty-”

“His Majesty.”

I cut him off before he could finish.

“Would he really.”

When I thought about it, it was ridiculous.

The palace had sent this vermin because it knew I had fallen out of Sebestian’s favor.

“Trust me, the son of Sebestian?”

In the end, he was still my father.

Even if he never intended to help me once in his life, even if he never acknowledged me until the day he died.

Sebestian was the kind of man whose mere existence became my authority. Blood ties could not be severed, even if you wanted them severed.

“Or would he trust.”

I glared at the department head and asked,

“You, a bug that crawled out of a maggot pit?”

“......”

He trembled with humiliation, and I quietly drank my tea.

It tasted quite good.

“Listen carefully.”

I pointed a finger at his solar plexus.

“You said Arnold’s ideology was subversive.”

If subversive thought was the reason,

“Then to me, trash like you challenging nobles is subversive too.”

This commoner’s inferiority was itself a crime. I did not like the class system, but right now it was one of my strongest weapons.

No reason not to use it.

Grinding his teeth, the department head finally stood and gave a short bow.

“Yes. I was rude.”

He turned and left the estate, but that was a foolish choice.

That was not the right way to apologize.

He should have knelt. He should have put his forehead to the floor.

He should have shown more than that.

If he could not do that, he should never have come here in the first place.

“I should cut him down.”

He was overestimating his own value. A direct-agency department head was easy to replace. Not even a gear, just a bolt or nut.

Men like that weakened imperial power.

That position needed someone far more rational and precise.

* * *

At the Sentinel Order, the Aerial Assault Club met twice a week.

At first, knights joined out of curiosity, or just for fun.

Then the number kept growing, and about a third of the Order came to enjoy Aerial Descent training at least once a week.

“Spread your mana.”

Before Aerial Descent training began, I called Tiana and Leon to the [Training Hall] for private tutoring. It was a rectangular enclosed space inside the Order.

Tiana asked,

“Spread mana?”

“Yeah. Don’t think about it. Just do it naturally.”

They looked confused, but each released mana outside their bodies.

Ssssss......

Like blue heat haze rising, mana particles spread evenly from both of them.

Both had dispersive mana.

“You two are a lot alike.”

“Are you crazy?”

“...Max. That was pretty rude.”

Tiana and Leon both stiffened at once.

“Anyway, both your mana types are dispersive.”

I told them,

“This trait gives you a special advantage during Aerial Descent. If you spread mana particles wide and maximize surface friction, you can glide silently, turn in midair, even decelerate hard.”

It was the complete opposite of my assault style, stepping on mana and condensing full power into one point before driving down.

They were much better suited to infiltrating enemy lines in stealth than directly striking the ground.

“So practice dispersing mana in midair.”

“Dispersing?”

“Yeah. If your mana is going to affect descent speed...”

I scanned the inside of the training hall and thought for a moment.

Thump!

The virus activated first. The results of its instinctive calculation were sent into my head.

“You need to fill this place in three seconds, at most.”

I did not know the exact volume of this hall. But for mana to create meaningful lift and drag in the air, in other words, to form enough density to interact with air molecules, instinct told me this was the release speed needed to fill a space this size within three seconds.

“If you can do that-”

Now I needed proper terminology. Naming a concept was more than convenience. A clear term stamped a complex idea into a single image and gave the learner a sharp target.

That meant much higher efficiency.

“You’ll be able to use Mana Wings.”

“Mana Wings?”

“A technique that directly creates and controls airflow around you using mana released from your body.”

And terms should sound as impressive as possible, because that raised motivation. Everything looked better with better presentation.

The advanced manual distributed by the New Cabinet said as much.

“Ohh. Mana Wings... so we just fill this whole space with mana?”

“Wings made of mana...”

Strong interest rose on Tiana and Leon’s faces. Beneath their knightly composure and forced maturity, the excitement of twenty-one-year-olds showed through.

“Okay. Then I’ll go first.”

Tiana rolled up her sleeves, full of enthusiasm, and right then,

Ding-

A call came through my terminal. It was Kairon.

“One moment. I have work.”

The two of them started training on their own, and I went up to Kairon’s office.

“Max. Sit.”

“Yes.”

On Kairon’s desk, a premium mana stone cube sat in plain view.

Was he showing off?

Kairon caught my gaze and gave a bitter smile.

“Everyone envied it.”

So he was showing off.

“They all keep asking where I got a mana stone like this.”

“I see.”

The Hermes workshop had recruited master artisans known across the Empire, and their apprentices were gradually building skill.

In the end, skill came down to money. They had an unlimited supply of top-grade mana stones, so they were improving quickly.

“Sir Kairon. By any chance.”

The workshop was still in its early phase, so it could only produce about nine to ten premium stones per year, but enough inventory for sale was slowly building up.

“Would you like premium reservation tickets?”

“...Premium reservation tickets?”

“Yes.”

I had just thought of it.

“Tickets that let you reserve premium mana stone cubes. I’ll give you five. You can hand them out to whoever you want.”

“......”

Kairon thought for a moment, but his expression quickly turned interested.

“Can I really accept those?”

“Of course.”

I smiled.

Free promotion and free customer acquisition. Kairon had been helping me in several ways lately.

“Then I won’t refuse.”

“Yes. But why did you call me?”

“Ah-”

Kairon smiled with confidence and handed me a thick document envelope.

“My resident agent in the underground city picked up information about the black market.”

Kairon was as bold with money as he was with ambition. He was one of the few knights who spent personal funds beyond official budgets to build his own intelligence network and connections.

“The location is Basement Level 9 of the underground city. All kinds gather there. But one item traded in that market is the problem. According to my agent, a terror group seems to be targeting it. Better for you to handle this than me.”

This mission was in the black market, and I had money.

Kairon had brought me an easy mission that fit me perfectly.

“Yes. I’ll take it.”

Besides, irregular black markets in the underground city often turned up practical goods. Since I had earned a lot, I might as well enjoy some luxury shopping.

The dollar’s value would drop soon, so whenever I had time, I needed to convert it into tangible assets.

“It shouldn’t be difficult.”

“Yes. Then I’ll take my leave.”

As I stood, Kairon stopped me.

“...Wait. The premium reservation tickets?”

“My officer will deliver them tomorrow.”

“Ah, right. Got it.”

Kairon really did have a cute side that didn’t match him.

......

The route to the underground city was in the central district’s lowest sector. With a robe over me, I walked there.

Past Sectors 40 to 43, where addicts and the starving flailed on the border between life and death, then into the deepest alley in Sector 43.

The entrance looked no different from a surface slum. Damp stench and darkness. But the farther down you went, the more subtly the scenery changed, until an old cargo elevator appeared.

“Stop.”

A heavily built guard blocked my path. I silently held out a thick bundle of dollars.

The entry fee was only one hundred dollars, but I offered fifty times that. The moment he checked the amount, his eyes softened.

“This way, please.”

The guard led me to a different elevator. Not the cargo one, a clean mechanical lift.

“Enjoy your visit.”

Wiiiiing.

The descent began.

In the underground city, money and force were everything. It was the most alien zone, beyond law and order, yet the Empire kept it for the same reason you could never exterminate cockroaches forever.

The underground city was effectively autonomous territory. The people here knew their place and did not crawl up to the surface, and instead paid huge taxes. Paradoxically, this lawless zone also served as a safety valve, suppressing unrest and riots in the surface slums.

Even the pre-regression New Cabinet had labeled it a necessary evil and deliberately avoided annexing it. It had even become an independent state called Authentic.

Ding.

The elevator reached Basement Level 9. The instant the doors opened, dazzling lights and noise crashed over me.

A sunless underworld. Instead of sky, black bedrock stretched overhead, and below it, endless neon signs and mana holograms flowed like a river. Cheap perfume, unknown pollutants, the smell of vomit, and human desire.

“Disgusting.”

There was a reason the gas mask industry had grown in the underground city.

First, I needed a proper identity. I headed to the most eye-catching place among the countless signs, an identity-card shop called "Name."

“Welcome~”

The owner wore a sly grin, but when I dropped a thick stack of cash on his desk, his face turned serious in an instant.

“Top grade.”

“...One moment. Let me count.”

Thirty thousand dollars.

Without a word, in just a few minutes, he made and handed over a perfect forged identity card.

“If you have an account at the Imperial Central Bank, we can link it too... though I assume you won’t.”

Of course, I had no intention of attaching a traceable tag.

I stepped outside.

Then,

Thump-

My heart jolted with an irregular beat.

I stopped walking.

Slowly, I turned my head.

In the crowd, I traced an alien presence.

Thump-

There were three of them.

Anonymous figures in robes, blending into the crowd as they walked. Two men, one woman.

My heart reacted to one of them, a man with a thick beard around his jaw.

He looked a little over 180 centimeters tall, and unfortunately I could not make out anything beyond that.

I needed to strip that robe off.

Whoooooosh.

I released a thin stream of mana and created an artificial gust. The wind slipped past them.

“...?”

The man’s hood fluttered, and for an instant, the shadow over his face lifted.

I saw him.

He was wanted. A face stored as a composite sketch in the Order’s main server.

A member of the Revolutionary Faction.

They were here.

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