The Reluctant Imperialist
https://m.munpia.com/novel/detail/503857
Chapter 1: https://rentry.co/3ioosho3
Chapter 2: https://rentry.co/wqfxnhhw
Chapter 3: https://rentry.co/4g94srva
Chapter 4: https://rentry.co/m9i9h4ub
Chapter 5: https://rentry.co/hiv8wyau
Chapter 6: https://rentry.co/9rv6ec66
Chapter 7: https://rentry.co/w69vkn37
Chapter 8
A Blade Lurks Under the Neck
Julian preserved the scene of the summary execution. The body of the decapitated child lay exposed in the park, and the virus within my body secretly absorbed a small part of the creature. I wasn't sure of the principle behind it, but I felt my magic core grow slightly.
“……”
I looked at Julian. With a composed face, he must have intended to let the child go. He was, then as now, a man who always contemplated 'what is right'.
Click. Click.
Before I knew it, a few reporters had rushed over and were taking pictures of the scene. Julian didn't particularly stop them.
"Good work. The forensics team will release the detailed results. Loyalty."
The police pushed the reporters back and recovered the body, leaving Julian and me behind. We seemed to glance at each other, but there was no real way to avoid it.
A cool wind blew through the night. A back alley untouched by the capital's lights.
We walked side by side down a path where the gaslights flickered dimly.
"You did a good deed on your very first day."
Julian broke the awkward silence.
"Yes. Thanks to you."
Julian was a pure imperial citizen. His shining blond hair, sharp golden eyes, and every single mannerism were aristocratic to the bone. That was why he became my superior, and honestly, he was my spiritual mentor. In the face of his strength, I realized my own weakness. That's why I felt a petty sense of jealousy. Julian was a man who possessed everything I did not.
"How do you feel? It must have been quite anticlimactic for a first mission."
"It's fine. It was a worthwhile task."
However, Julian was too good for this rotten empire.
And the empire, likewise, did not need Julian.
I once looked at him as he was sentenced to death. Having lost everything, he had instead smiled brightly and said to me,
'Max. I would have rather died by your hand.'
"Good work."
Julian's voice shattered my recollection.
"You'll have to attend the committee tomorrow. Summary judgments undergo a post-mortem review, you knew that, right?"
I would probably be subjected to an internal investigation. It would be a bit of a nuisance, but it would only last a day or two.
"...Yes. I don't mind."
It was already dawn by the time we arrived at the knightly order's headquarters. I returned to my office and wrote up a report. Drawing on my memories from before my regression, I recorded the full account of the incident in a proper format.
The last paragraph of the report was as follows:
'—As the circumstances of the suspect murdering a noble were clear, a summary judgment was carried out on the spot in accordance with imperial law.'
A knight is a prosecutor, a judge, and an executioner all in one. It meant they held a position where killing a few commoners by mistake could be dismissed as self-defense.
Of course, as the empire was a thorough bureaucracy, a summary judgment required, at the very least, a post-mortem review process.
The morning of the day I submitted the report, I received a summons to appear before the review committee.
The place was a cold and static space.
Across the table sat two high-ranking knights. One was a sharp-featured woman, and the other was a man with a stern expression.
"The report is written neatly."
The woman said, slapping down a file.
"Forensic results confirmed the victim's bloodstains and traces of magic on the body of the child you disposed of. With this much evidence, there's no need to speculate on other circumstances."
She closed the file. Then, resting her chin on her hand, she stared at me intently. It was a probing gaze.
"However, you've already killed two. That wasn't your character at Empire Point. I was a professor back then, didn't we see each other a few times?"
"......Yes. I remember."
Her name was Adria von Hardenberg.
There was no way I wouldn't know it. Though she now sat before me as a high-ranking knight, her other side was that of a traitor to the empire.
Her codename was 'Blue Owl', a noble-born spy who had been active as a core member of the revolutionary army for decades.
To me, she was a more dangerous being than the empire itself.
It was likely the same for her.
Because one day, I will cut off your head.
"You might be referred to a grand jury. There was an accusation, you see."
"An accusation, you say?"
"Yes. You killed a fifteen-year-old and an eleven-year-old."
Adria gave a faint smile.
"It's the kind of material reporters love to sink their teeth into. 'Ebenholz's Excessive Suppression of the Cold-Blooded'. Those bastards are always blabbering on about how the pen is mightier than the sword, yet they don't give a damn about the weight that pen carries."
She pointed a finger at me.
"Of course, you can brush it aside if you want. A grand jury is just a formality anyway-"
"No."
I refused.
"I have done the right thing, what reason is there to brush it aside? Please proceed with the official procedures."
Adria's eyes widened slightly.
"...Alright. I'll let you know when the schedule is fixed."
The man who had been silent until then let out a smirk.
"Aren't you curious? About who accused you."
In principle, the accuser's identity should be confidential. But there was no way such a principle would be upheld in the empire.
"It's this man."
He pushed a photograph and a document toward me.
The name was Alphons von Stauffen. A man born into a respectable noble family, who had willingly descended to a lower place with his pen. He was a journalist who exposed the injustices of the empire.
"I see."
"Do you know him?"
I hid my expression.
This was a human being.
Even in this dark age, there are sometimes people as righteous as this. Some of them will hold a pen, and some will hold a sword.
But their righteousness was ultimately not right. For the righteousness they advocated had led the world to ruin.
"No. It's the first time I've heard the name."
I stood up from my seat.
Suddenly, a voice flowed towards me.
"I'm curious."
Adria said, looking at me with her chin in her hand. Her voice was languid, but a sharp blade was hidden within. At least, that's how it felt to me.
"What will Ebenholz do with him?"
It was a testing question. My father came to mind before my answer.
Jefestian.
The revolutionary army respected my father. They beheaded him and hung his head in the central square, but even that was an expression of reverence. It was an act to forget their fear because they were afraid.
Jefestian had risked his own life to protect his beliefs. A belief was that precious of a value.
"Suppressing an individual's beliefs with force is not the way of Ebenholz."
The petty man who chases only his own interests will eventually be covered in disgrace and filth and disappear.
However, one who has defended his beliefs his entire life deserves respect, even if he is an enemy.
"Hmm."
Adria's gaze flickered faintly.
Just one call to Angie and Alphons would be found as a corpse the next morning. Perhaps Alphons himself is prepared for such an end.
And thus, troublesome things called martyrs are reborn.
"I'm curious. What is the way of Ebenholz?"
"To let him find out naturally."
Killing Alphons would only tarnish my image. It would only put Adria on higher alert. In many ways, it was a calculation with no gain.
For me, a thorough calculation of profit and loss is necessary. I must be seen as, at the very least, a 'rational' noble.
"In the first place, nothing will change just because some reporter scribbles a few lines with a pen. The society of the empire is not soft enough to be stained by ink."
I looked at Adria.
"I have executed a criminal who murdered a noble on the spot. No matter how much he wields his pen, that fact does not change."
I stood up from my seat. I had no more business here.
"Well then, if you'll excuse me."
As soon as I left the knightly order, I got straight into a car. The destination was a nearby autopsy room.
[Imperial Eaton Institute of Forensic Medicine]
A space reeking of disinfectant. I opened the door to one of the autopsy rooms. On a steel slab lay a small figure covered by a white cloth.
The medical examiner took off his gloves and turned to look at me.
"What are the autopsy results?"
"Ah, yes. As you expected, it is a demi-human."
"An Isenheim?"
"Isenheim......... I'm not sure. It could be an Edlem, or an Elina mixed-blood. It's too young for a clear distinction."
The white-haired medical examiner took off his mask. His face was deeply creased with fatigue.
"What is certain is that it's not of Aran descent. The unique magic reaction detected in the body confirms it..."
'Aran', to be precise, is not a race. It is a word the people of the empire use to refer to themselves as superior.
"Are you saying it can't be distinguished?"
"Yes. Usually, the traits of such young individuals have not fully manifested. Still, the structure of the magic circuit is definitely that of a demi-human."
Demi-human. The empire had at some point stopped calling them a 'race'. They were branded as a species inferior to humans. It was a device to socially and academically justify the empire's discriminatory policies.
"You have accomplished a great feat on your very first mission. Congratulations, Sir Maximilian."
The medical examiner offered a perfunctory compliment.
I looked up at him. At the word 'congratulations', I clenched my teeth without realizing it. The medical examiner flinched and took a step back.
"...As a knight, I have merely fulfilled my given duty. There is no reason to be praised."
"Ah, yes."
The medical examiner gave an awkward cough. I turned and left the autopsy room.
......
"Why is that kid so grim?"
After the knight left, the medical examiner was honestly flustered.
Maximilian Ebenholz, a young knight who had just turned twenty. The public opinion of him was mainly that of a weak and incompetent man, and some even called him the 'flawed bloodline' that tarnished the Ebenholz family name, but it seems blood is blood after all.
He rather resembled a young Jefestian. He had a blade-like demeanor, quite different from the rumors.
"Right. There's no way a softie could kill a kid like this."
The medical examiner shifted his gaze to the dead child. The severed neck had been crudely stitched together with thick wire.
"......"
He stared blankly at the child and let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding.
This child had, of course, killed a noble. But the child's body was covered in 'unspeakable wounds' inflicted by that noble.
"Sometimes... I wonder if this is truly the right path."
Forty years had passed since he pledged his loyalty to the empire as a medical examiner. He had performed his duties with a degree of transparency, but now he too seemed to have grown old.
Sympathy and pity welled up from deep within his heart.
"Rest peacefully. The next world will be better for you."
He gently closed the child's eyes with his hand.
He put the body in the freezer and turned off the light.