The Reluctant Imperialist - Chapter 85

WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ The Reluctant Imperialist

Chapter 85

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At the End of Winter

The Western Prozen Republic.
A center of art and culture, with three countries between it and the Empire.

At Prozen National University, Professor Jean Pierre of Political Sociology pointed to a photo on the screen.

“The Adeline murder case. A secretary from the Governor-General’s Office picked a fight with an ordinary Gennen college student on the street. Maybe he made a pass at her, and Adeline rejected him. Whatever happened, the two groups clashed, and the secretary drew a pistol from his waist.”

Bang.

He mimicked the gunshot with his mouth.

“That single shot triggered the armed demonstrations.”

Today’s lecture topic was the Gennen suppression, an issue that had exploded across the continent.

Hundreds of students filled the tiered lecture hall and listened in silence.

“Gennen went up in chaotic flames in a very short time.”

The professor traced a circle in the air with his pen.

“I always tell you this. Mana is more dangerous than firearms because it is human power. Its traits and attributes differ from person to person, but there is one thing in common. Mana without emotional control always spreads like wildfire.”

“Gennen students, mages who had been in hiding, and others who studied mana rose up against the garrison. The city fell into confusion almost instantly.”

Mana drifted in the air and formed numbers.

59 and 187.

“According to the Empire’s official announcement, 59 military and police personnel died in the initial suppression phase, and 187 people died among protesters and civilians combined. Those numbers may already be underreported, but even so.”

They were not small numbers.
Students in the republic frowned as they imagined that day.

“If this had continued, Gennen would have burned to ash. The garrison’s incompetent response set the autonomous territory on top of a furnace. Then, right after that.”

The professor’s eyes sharpened.

“Tanks.”

This time his mana wrote one word in thick letters.

“Hundreds of tanks, a mix of old and new models, suddenly deployed and entered all of Gennen.”

Students began murmuring.

“With that level of force, wiping out an autonomous territory is easy. It is enough to wage a full-scale war.”

Tanks were not just vehicles.
They fired high-performance shells packed with mana and mana stone, so even people who could use mana had no choice but to fear them.

“If that many tanks had shelled city streets, thousands could have died. One shell could have torn dozens of bodies apart.”

The students had expected the same.
The Empire would crush Gennen hard as an example after the Gigantes terror attack, no matter how many died or how.

“Yet something strange happened again.”

Jean Pierre changed the screen.
These were photos taken by Alphonse, a reporter from the Empire. Many structures and buildings were destroyed, but there were no scenes of mangled human bodies.

“The result: civilian deaths from tank shelling, zero. But 23 military and police personnel were summarily executed for rogue actions. On the protester side, 103 were also summarily executed.”

The professor circled the number [0 civilian deaths].

“The Empire said every summary execution was for one of these reasons: a protester who used excessive violence, an outside force that was not Gennen, or an unidentified person. Well, that is the Empire’s version, so set that aside for now...”

In Jean Pierre’s view, the zero civilian deaths were likely true.
Even reporters inside Gennen were saying the tanks did not touch civilians.

“You can say several hundred died in the incident itself, but Gennen, which was about to boil over, turned cold in an instant. A situation where thousands or tens of thousands dying would not have been surprising was brought under control like this.”

The professor changed the screen again.

“So we need to look at the person who led this suppression.”

[ Maximilian von Albrecht Ebenholtz ]

“Heir to the great House Ebenholtz.”

No clear front-facing photo of his face had ever been released outside the Empire.
Maybe it was to guard against assassination attempts, but most available images showed only his back.

Inside the Empire, of course, he was already famous enough that portraits were said to circulate privately.

“He moved this massive army with the precision and efficiency of a single machine. He controlled hundreds of tanks and tens of thousands of troops with extreme precision, put out the autonomous territory’s fire early, and used force with severe restraint. He shattered only the core of the protests and riots.”

The professor continued.

“He also showed no hesitation in killing military and police personnel. In war, the biggest enemy is foolish allies. If some unhinged soldier had opened up with a machine gun, or if a tank crew had turned its gun barrel, Gennen would have suffered far more casualties.”

Maximilian had cut those men down without pause.

“He used the fear of tanks as a tool. But he handled them with strict discipline. The way those tanks maneuvered almost felt orderly in itself.”

So, if this Gennen suppression had to be summed up in one line:

“It was very imperial, but in one sense, very aristocratic.”

A knight who appeared rarely in this age, when both “Empire” and “nobility” were losing their old shining roots.

Maximilian was a very interesting figure.

“Huh, it is already three?”

Class was over before they knew it.
Professor Jean Pierre tapped the podium.

“Today’s assignment. Write at least ten thousand characters on the cause of the Gennen incident, its development, the suppression process, and the ripple effects this will have on continental affairs.”

A chorus of groans filled the room.
Jean Pierre laughed and waved his hand, and students packed their bags and filed out.

“...Hm.”

The lecture hall was empty before long.

Professor Jean Pierre quietly looked at the screen.
He stared at Maximilian’s back.

Rumor said he was a knight with striking looks, blond hair, and golden eyes.

But Jean Pierre had never seen him in person.

Still, as a professor who expanded from the point of an individual into the plane of history, he knew Sebestian.

“Sebestian’s son.”

Imperial Commander-in-Chief Sebestian was already old.
Once, he had ruled the continent and left a fierce impression.
Now, he had become a sword only for the Emperor.

A loyal retainer who never defied the Emperor’s will and only carried it out.

That too was a kind of downfall.
House Ebenholtz had always been that kind of house, but a predictable man was not academically interesting.

Could his son be different?

“Hoo.”

Jean Pierre let out a light sigh.

This Gennen incident had made one thing clear.

War was now a settled fact.

So the Prozen Republic, this university, and even me, lecturing about a single “figure” while believing the Empire is far away,

might one day face the golden eyes of the knight called Maximilian.

...If he was not assassinated first.

* * *

New Year.

The Empire’s streets were soaked in festival colors.
Fireworks embroidered the night sky, and the subjects greeted the new year breeze while wishing each other well.

In that season when everyone was excited, I received word that Yukia’s father, Eric, had been recovered as a corpse.

I flew to the western border at once.

“...This way.”

It was hardly even a morgue, just a freezer room where refrigerant mana stones kept the temperature low.

My attendants were there with the guides who had helped them.

“The body is only bones, but his belongings are intact.”

An attendant held out a tray.
Among the odds and ends, I picked up one accessory.

A necklace made from thinly shaved wood.
A distinctive Yaken tribe item.

“...”

This was enough.

I put the necklace into my coat and gave an order.

“Collect the rest and bury them in the sunniest place in the Empire.”

“Yes, sir.”

Then I took the plane home again and was about to rest.

An unexpected visitor came to see me.

“G-good evening, Sir Knight. I am sorry for coming at such a late hour.”

It was Officer Yosef from the Imperial Central Police Bureau.
He came in with a very tense expression.

Maybe because rumors about Gennen had spread, but lately quite a few people were excessively afraid of me.

“What is this about?”

“Well... a strange murderer has appeared in our jurisdiction recently.”

Yosef handed over a case file.

“It is too personal to call terrorism, and too far beyond simple murder... he is leaving a mark of his own.”

I opened the file.
It was full of crime scene photos.

Every victim’s chest had been opened in a cross shape, and a clear mark [†] had been left in blood at the center of the forehead.

A serial killer who left his own mark.
A serial killer asserting himself.

“There are mana residues too, but he is so meticulous... I am sorry, but this is beyond our capability.”

The police officers watched my reaction.

“You are the knight who solved the Head-Eater case, and people say you are among the Empire’s best at activated residue analysis...”

“People say that much about me?”

“Ah, yes! Of course! You are an authority, an authority!”

All I had done was handle piled-up work, but it looked like I had earned a decent reputation.
Thanks to the virus.

“If you are too busy with public and private matters...”

“No.”

I closed the file and shook my head.

“I will take it.”

Yosef’s face brightened.
I tapped the incident date written on the file cover.

A murderer who drew crosses.

It was a case from before my regression, and I remembered it.

A mission worth taking.

* * *

One day in mid-January.

The new appointments for Gennen were announced on schedule.
I personally placed my chosen people into the positions left vacant by the executed directors.

The standard was clear.

Commoner or noble, it did not matter.
Birth status and family background were not criteria.

I searched my memories from before regression and selected people who had been especially capable in the new cabinet, or talented people who had never seen the light because upper ranks blocked them. For financial matters, I took Dieter’s recommendations.

“Then we will now begin the inauguration ceremony for the new officials of the Gennen Autonomous Territory.”

In the main auditorium of the Governor-General’s building, packed with people, Governor Fabian stood on stage.

I stood two or three steps behind him, slightly to the side.

“New Director of Internal Affairs, Hermann Kraus.”

When his name was called, a small-framed man walked up with trembling steps.

He had graduated second in his class from the Imperial University’s public administration department, but because he came from a lower district, he had remained only a district official in the Zone 30s.

By coincidence, he had completed his studies with a scholarship from the Ebenholtz Foundation.

He had the skill to rebuild Gennen’s administrative network.

“I appoint you as Director of Internal Affairs of the Gennen Governor-General’s Office.”

The governor offered a handshake.
Hermann took his hand.

After receiving his appointment certificate and inauguration plaque, he came toward me.

I gave him a look and a small nod.
I could see his legs shaking.

“I-I am Hermann Kraus.”

“I know. You received support from Ebenholtz.”

“Y-yes. Thanks to that, I was able to graduate from university... safely.”

I patted his shoulder a few times, and he walked down the stage with a face that looked ready to melt.

“New Director of Land, Erica Giono.”

Erica Giono.
She came recommended by Dieter. That meant she was someone Dieter trusted quite a lot.

“New Director of Industry, Harman Hein...”

One by one, the key posts were filled.

The atmosphere in the audience was strange.
The reporters especially looked completely bewildered.

The reason was simple.

They did not know who these people were.

Still, the appointments continued like that, and finally:

“Second Secretary.”

Second Secretary.
The seat once held by the bastard who murdered Adeline, the root cause of this entire incident. A title close to the governor, just below the directors.

“...”

The governor paused for a moment.
He knew the name on the paper.
It would probably be a highly controversial appointment.

But then he spoke.

“Elias Walter.”

At that moment, the hall stirred.

The former student council president from the Gennen protests.
The man who had ordered a peaceful dispersal, then got shot down by an ideological criminal who disobeyed.

Elias returned in a perfect suit.

Step.
Step.

He walked with confidence.
The bandaged chest stood out even over his shirt, and his stride held no hesitation.

Looking at him on stage, the governor said:

“Elias Walter. I appoint you as Second Secretary of the Gennen Governor-General’s Office.”

A dry handshake.
He received his appointment certificate and inauguration plaque, then walked a few more steps and stopped before me.

Elias looked at me.
I looked at him.

Eyes coldly tempered, the eyes of someone who had faced reality.

I liked that quite a bit.

“You got out of prison faster than I expected.”

“...Thanks to you.”

A lot was packed into that short answer.