https://m.munpia.com/novel/detail/503857
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Chapter 3: https://rentry.co/4g94srva
A Reluctant Imperialist
Method
2025.09.03 Views 599 Likes 58
An adult knight, on the verge of joining the Sentinels, killed a cadet.
The perpetrator was the eldest son of the Ebenholz family. The victim was a cadet with no connections or power.
It was an incident that could have been easily buried, but a few media outlets, proclaiming themselves the conscience of the Empire, questioned it.
"Does this make any sense?! Does being an Ebenholz give you the right to kill people at will?"
They formed a line in front of the Sahelan Police Station of the Empire. The chief waved his hand dismissively, ordering the police officers to block them.
"I told you there was a reason, so go home now-"
"What kind of reason could there possibly be to kill a 15-year-old cadet?"
"You talk too much..."
Tsk. As the chief clicked his tongue, a subordinate approached and whispered something to him. The chief's eyes widened.
"......Really?"
"Yes, it seems they are certain..."
"Alright."
The chief looked at the reporters and clicked his tongue again.
"An official autopsy has been scheduled, so come and see for yourselves then."
An autopsy is the only way to determine race. As the eldest son had testified, if the deceased cadet was not an Imperial citizen but a member of a minority race, it would be sufficient grounds for a summary judgment.
Here, 'sufficient' means 'according to Imperial law.'
"An official autopsy?"
"You're doing it publicly?"
The reporters looked at each other with puzzled expressions.
An autopsy was, of course, necessary. It was a process that couldn't be omitted, even for the Ebenholz family. However, a public autopsy would be difficult to manipulate, and any potential disgrace would surely be revealed.
"It's happening today at 8 PM at the Eton Medical Examiner's Office, so you'd better get moving."
The chief went back into the police station. The reporters murmured for a moment before rushing to their vehicles. Cries of "See you at Eton!" echoed from all around.
8 PM.
"...The autopsy is now complete."
The medical examiner placed the deceased's heart on a tray. Beyond the glass, numerous people were watching.
"Analysis results."
It was a transparent, public autopsy. Many reporters had gathered, and rivals of the Ebenholz family were also present. If this deceased person turned out to be an innocent Imperial citizen, Maximilian would be prosecuted.
"The deceased, by the name of Jacob Mac, is not an Imperial citizen."
A stir went through the crowd.
When a heart is magically analyzed, the racial differences are distinct. First, the descendants of dwarves, the Dromon; the descendants of elves, the Elina; the descendants of beastmen, the Yeken; and then the Izenheim and the Edlem. The hearts of these five races are particularly unique.
The Empire classifies them not as different races, but as demi-humans (亞人).
"Jacob Mac is presumed to be either Izenheim or Elina."
Only Imperial citizens can be admitted to the Empire Point. If one lies about their identity, the punishment is death according to Imperial law.
Therefore, Maximilian Ebenholz made the right decision.
Several reporters left quickly, while others stood dumbfounded, unable to comprehend. The vassals of the Ebenholz family looked relieved.
"...Was there any manipulation?"
On the other hand, the rivals of the Ebenholz family looked disappointed.
"Yes. One of the medical examiners is our man."
Maximilian Ebenholz, the eldest son of the family, had killed an Izenheim who had disguised himself as an Imperial citizen. Moreover, the deceased was an outstanding cadet at the military academy who was certain to be commissioned as a knight.
It was a clear meritorious deed, having caught a spy who had almost entered the heart of the Empire.
"A cadet, and yet so careless."
Bertem's second son, Ken, found himself blaming the deceased without realizing it.
A nearby vassal added sycophantically.
"Perhaps he didn't think he'd get caught by Maximilian?"
"Ha. That might be."
Maximilian is a well-known halfwit in aristocratic society. His appearance is more Imperial than anyone else's, making him the envy of many nobles, but that's all he is.
"He stumbled backward and caught a rat."
"Indeed."
"Let's go back."
"Yes."
Reporters who had not yet abandoned their conscience grabbed the medical examiner and asked.
"......Is he really not an Imperial citizen?"
"If you're so suspicious, see for yourself."
The medical examiner pointed to the heart on the tray.
Mana lingers in a deceased body for quite a long time, and its amount can be used to estimate the time of death. This means that something like swapping the heart is impossible.
"Heo..."
The reporter looked at the face of the deceased lying on the cold metal slab of the autopsy table. He wasn't an Imperial citizen, but he was a boy whose baby fat had not yet disappeared. His peaceful expression seemed somehow serene, which made it all the sadder.
It didn't feel right.
Grind.
The reporter, Alphonse, clenched his teeth.
I sit with my eyes closed.
This is not a prison.
Rather, it is the cadets who are trapped behind bars.
"...Wow. You hid it so cleverly in this novel. That's really impressive."
Instead, I was praised by the detectives. The man with the mustache handed me a page from the book.
"Unfortunately, the location of the hideout isn't written down. I guess their people will handle it."
"Please release those friends. They are ordinary cadets."
I gestured with my chin towards the inside of the cell. The three cadets still looked pale as death. It seemed they still couldn't believe the death of their friend of many years, and were also afraid.
"No, we still need to investigate them just in case. They might have been radicalized."
"......"
"...If they are investigated, what will happen to those friends?"
"Oh. Please speak comfortably, Sir Knight. I am Sergeant Georges."
I immediately changed my tone.
"What will happen to those friends?"
"Oh, of course, well, with one of their classmates being a demi-human, their futures will be blocked. As they should be."
"......"
This was wrong.
The Empire's oppression of minority races was clearly wrong.
With the exception of just one race.
The Izenheim.
They are not a race, but a tribe, not even demi-humans but an alien clan.
Therefore, as long as it's not the Izenheim, it's fine. And the cadets are not Izenheim.
'It' inside my body is not reacting, so I'm certain.
"..................Let them go."
"Hey. Still."
"I said I'm fine. I won't say it twice."
"Uh......yes. Hey, open up!"
Clang. The cell door opened. The three remaining cadets walked out, step by step.
"You bastards. Make friends more carefully."
Sergeant Georges smacked each of them on the head with a file as they came out.
"Go on, you punks. Greet Sir Ebenholz."
"......"
"......"
"......"
The cadets glanced at me and bowed their heads without a word.
As they passed by me, I asked them.
"Were you close?"
The question had to be phrased that way. I didn't know what to put into my words.
"......No."
One of them answered. It was a girl. Was her name 'Hanna'?
It was a good answer.
I gestured to the detective.
"Write it in the report. They weren't close."
"......Ah, yes."
Joshua added another sentence to the report, and I turned to leave. The autopsy results were out, so I was thinking of slowly heading back.
Just then, Hanna grabbed my sleeve.
"There must have been a better way. Surely."
"Has she lost her mind!"
The sergeant's face contorted like a demon's, and the cadets next to him tried to stop her, yelling "Are you crazy?"
"......"
I stopped the sergeant who was about to lash out at Hanna. Instead, I looked into her eyes. I saw pupils filled with a sense of justice. Looking at her, I thought of the world that had perished. I recalled Edmon, who had faded like a candle flame. I remembered the grotesque dimensional eaters that had charged at me.
An amalgam of those memories of the future and the present came out of my mouth.
"This is that better way."
The Ebenholz family estate.
"Here is the autopsy report."
Jefestienne never expected much from small things. In fact, she didn't expect much from big things either.
It had been quite a while since she had stopped expecting anything at all.
But this time, it was surprisingly not a small thing.
From the very first report, it was strange.
Max was not a man who killed people easily. On the contrary, he was the type who couldn't kill. He was a weak boy who still couldn't forget the dog he had when he was eight.
And yet, that boy had killed a cadet who was only fifteen. He had cut off his head with a single stroke.
That was surprising enough, but he was even a minority race.
An impudent demi-human who had dared to infiltrate the Empire Point of the Empire.
"What a joke."
For now, it seems better to believe it was a coincidence. Expectations only lead to disappointment, and Max was a child who only ever brought disappointment.
"When is the Sentinel induction ceremony?"
"Next week. Will you be attending?"
The Sentinel induction ceremony is a fairly big event in the Empire. It's a gathering of the Empire's greatest talents.
"It is done."
But Maximilian is far from the best. If he goes, he'll just become fodder for the gossip of those annoying nobles and be laughed at.
Of course, there was no nepotism involved in Maximilian's induction, but the personnel department wouldn't have been able to ignore the name Ebenholz.
"I have something on my schedule that day anyway."
To Jefestienne, who had always run on the path to success, her son had now become a disgrace.