Ttiririring──
The suite room of the highest-class hotel in Volska. Hannah's terminal rang.
“Ugh, so loud.”
Volska had stronger Mana Waves than The Empire. That ant the terminal's ringtone blared obnoxiously loud.
"Mmgh...... Yes. This is Harmoush."
She got up from the bed and answered the call. Making sure her voice wasn't groggy, she used the tone of the rchant ‘Harmoush’.
─Were you sleeping?
The voice on the other end was rough. It was the arms dealer she had t last ti.
“Who is this, so early in the morning.”
– I'm calling to pass along the agreed location. But there's no 'bread'. Only 'scrap tal'.
It was code. Bread ant illegal synthetic mana stones, and scrap ant untraceable weapons.
Hannah clicked her tongue, pretending to be disappointed.
“...Hmm. No bread is a problem. We’ll need to negotiate.”
─Don’t joke around. You think we don’t know what’s going on in the Empire?
The other party scoffed.
─If import has gotten harder, it’s only natural that prices go up. That's just how the market works. We're both busy people, so let's just et, keep it clean and honest. We all know the bread was just a pretense anyway.
Hannah hid a smile and cleared her throat.
"......Well, for now. Yes. Let's et and talk. The goods are reliable, I assu?"
─Of course.
He listed the rendezvous ti and place, then hung up.
Hannah let out a long sigh as she set the terminal down.
“Ah~ those damn bastards. How’d they know? Do they have connections in the Empire or sothing?”
Still in full acting mode, she showered. Changed into a suit, put on her horn-rimd glasses, tidied up her curled hair, and left the hotel.
"Hoo."
Midday in Volska. The eting point was a shabby comrcial building in the heart of downtown.
She climbed the stairs and stood in front of the iron door on the third floor.
Knock knock─
She knocked, but no matter how long she waited, there was no response.
“.......”
Did she get the address wrong?
Hannah went back down to double-check the address.
“This is the right place.”
She climbed the stairs again,
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
After knocking a few tis irritably, the door creaked open on its own. It hadn’t been locked in the first place.
“......?”
A tallic, acrid sll seeped through the gap in the door.
Drip drip drip. A red liquid seeped past the threshold.
Blood.
“!”
Hannah imdiately surged Mana through her body. She gripped the dagger concealed at her side and lowered her stance.
“...Who's there?!”
No reply ca back. Just silence.
She took a deep breath and swung the door open wide.
“.......”
The interior was completely covered in blood. She swallowed hard and surveyed the scene.
The man and woman she had t yesterday, the broker who was their side's informant, their bodyguards. All of them were sprawled across the floor. Throats slit, hearts punctured.
Hannah grabbed he??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????r head. It felt like sothing snapped at the back of her skull.
"What the hell......"
Who did this? The only ones who should have known about the deal were them.
Could there be more than one person wiretapping? Or was this internal betrayal?
Suppressing her inner turmoil, Hannah focused on collecting evidence first. From the corpses and their bags, she took everything: terminal??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????s, wallets, docunts.
“Still warm.”
The bodies still held warmth, and there was no rigor mortis. That ant this had happened very recently.
──Bang!
Suddenly, the door burst open violently.
“Hands up!”
“Don’t move!”
Shouting loudly, uniford police officers stord in. In their hands were pistols and large swords.
“It—it’s not !”
Hannah instinctively shouted.
"It wasn't ! I just got here!"
"What are you saying?! Shut your mouth! Drop the weapon and get on the ground!"
The police didn’t seem interested in listening. In fact, they didn’t even understand her language.
"On the ground! Move and we'll cut you down!"
At that mont, Hannah realized it.
The instincts of a country girl who had survived rolling through every kind of wilderness were sounding the alarm.
If she got caught, it was over.
She would die for sure.
Imdiately, she kicked off the floor.
"Ah, son of a–!"
“Catch her!”
“Shoot! Shoot her!”
Bang! Bang bang!
Muzzle flashes flared. Hannah didn’t dodge. Instead, she cloaked her entire body in aura.
Ping! Thud-thud-thud!
The incoming bullets bounced off an invisible barrier. The officers' eyes went wide.
Seizing the opening, Hannah drove a kick into the jaw of the nearest one.
“Urgh!”
With a scream, the officer tumbled away. Hannah considered slashing with her dagger, but causing civilian casualties was out of the question. Instead, she dashed toward the window.
Crash!
She broke through the glass and threw herself out. It was three stories up, but she didn’t hesitate. She was already accustod to descents like this.
Thud.
Landing with a breakfall, she sprinted down the alley between buildings.
“Catch her!”
“Call for backup! Murder suspect is fleeing!”
Whistles and shouts rained down from behind her.
"Ah, dammit, what a headache......."
Hannah gritted her teeth and ran.
***
Every suspect in the Royal Opera House terror attack had been apprehended.
The mont they sensed the operation had failed, they blew up their hideout, but the price of tearing up the “script” was steep. Due to the lack of ti to cover things up, inevitable traces of evidence were left behind in the debris.
The police secured those pieces, and I, exercising my authority as a knight, had all evidence transferred to my office.
“A terror attack in the heart of The Empire, what a ss...... Thank you for your hard work, Sir Knight! You too, officers! Loyalty!”
Normally, this would have caused discontent at the Police Bureau, but instead, they welcod it and handed over all the investigation material. That was thanks to the generous dining, activity, and bonus allowances I had provided.
For police officers, results mattered, but what mattered even more was compensation. They were subjects of The Empire trying to make a living, after all.
For the record, money given by a knight was not solicitation or bribery. Legally speaking, that is.
"Sir Knight. There's sothing suspicious about these weapons."
In the middle of the investigation at the office, one of the staff mbers held out evidence photographs. Rifles recovered from the explosion site.
“There was magic installed inside the weapons using mana stones as catalysts.”
It was a personal identification spell designed to destroy the weapon if its owner died or if it was separated from the body.
But no world existed where every single one of these spells functioned properly. Magical errors and misfires were practically a ti-honored tradition.
“These are weapons we obtained because the spell didn’t activate. There are three in total...”
The officer placed the actual items on the desk. I picked up one of the rifles.
A hefty weight, crude finish. Several parts had been modified, but sothing about the base components looked familiar.
“...Gigantes.”
“Yes. That’s correct.”
The officer nodded. They were modified versions based on Gigantes’ old rifles.
I stared down the barrel for a mont, then raised my head.
"Gigantes was buried for good. There's no way it can co back."
Gigantes had been completely dismantled with the help of the Revolutionary forces. Its production lines had stopped, and the blueprints were lost.
So where had these weapons co from?
“Soone siphoned them off.”
If I had to guess the scenario—these were stored outside of Gigantes, perhaps in external warehouses or at a port. Weapons that hadn't yet been distributed.
But “so bastards” took advantage of the chaos during the terror incident to sneak out intact weapons and have them written off as total losses along with Gigantes.
“Yes. At the ti, all Gigantes weapons and inventory were marked as total losses.”
Unaccounted weapons that existed nowhere on paper.
“...Ha.”
I let out a hollow laugh.
Because of , many nobles had been too wary to recoup their investnt losses in Gigantes. So of them, or perhaps so faction, had smuggled out weapons to offset their losses and sold them off, and those weapons had circled the continent before ending up in the hands of terrorists.
The kind of people capable of sothing like this would be, at minimum, high-ranking noble families. People positioned high enough to have direct access to Gigantes' inventory managent.
"Investigate the flow of these weapons. Leave no stone unturned."
Whether those people ranked above or below Ebenholtz, well, I'd only find out by going head-to-head.
"Yes, sir. Understood."
With that, the officer withdrew, and shortly after—
“Sir knight. Mr. Leonard has arrived for questioning as a witness.”
Leonard had arrived at the Knight Order.
......
I l??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????ooked at Leonard through the interrogation room glass.
He was calm and subdued. It was the stillness of soone who had already accepted the outco, as if resigned, as if he had given up.
“Nice to see you.”
I began by laying out the evidence.
Among the captured mbers of the Revolutionary forces, many were employees of the Opera House. I compiled and presented everything: travel records showing they had been going to certain places, fragnts of letters that had been burned but not fully destroyed.
“Whether dissidents plotted a terrorist attack on the Opera House, or whether the Opera House itself was a den of dissidents, I don’t know.”
Under the pale light, Leonard's handso features were on full display. Black roots were showing, suggesting his natural hair color was dark.
"Seventeen ard assailants were killed, thirty-two civilians were injured, and seven died."
Civilian casualties. Leonard let out a pained, low groan.
“Leonard, you’re still just a person of interest for now, but most of the Opera House’s staff will be sentenced to death, and you may be among them.”
Leonard’s eyes wavered. He remained silent for a mont, then opened his mouth as if he had made a decision.
“...I will take responsibility.”
He was saying he would bear the responsibility himself.
Knowing Leonard’s character, I had sowhat expected it.
“I planned the attack. Everything was done under my orders.”
He spoke calmly, with practiced poise. Even this kind of mundane performance was a masterpiece.
“So I will take full responsibility. However, there’s one thing I must make absolutely clear. I never intended to kill anyone. Those dolls, those killing machines—those were not our doing.”
Leonard was a magnificent actor. There was no falsehood in the way he risked his own life to protect his comrades.
I placed a letter in front of him.
“Your father sent
a letter. I heard he disowned you for becoming an actor, but it seems he hasn’t completely abandoned you.”
Leonard’s family was already making moves. Practically begging.
"......Please disregard it."
Leonard bit his lip and let out a faint sigh.
“I gave up the path my family wanted for . Please, don’t let them get involved with . I beg you.”
I looked at Leonard. He was a fine actor. Perhaps a great actor the likes of whom I would never see again in my lifeti.
Even if I’m not well-versed in theater, that doesn’t an I have no eye for it.
To be honest, he was the first person to move
with art since I regressed. And more importantly—Justine wants him to live.
“Hmmm...”
Princess Justine.
Let
say again—she is a dangerous person.
Perhaps the most dangerous person on the entire continent.
Among the countless war criminals, Justine was second only to the Emperor in the amount of academic research done on her. The scholars all agreed on a few things—paranoia, delusions of persecution.
An obsession with racial discrimination and extermination.
The one-line summary was, 'An aberration born from the den of vipers that is the Imperial Palace.'
Before Leonard's death, Justine had suspected and annihilated countless retainers and families. After his death, she had devoted herself to the ethnic cleansing of eastern races and Subspecies.
Her temperant, before and after my regression, would be exactly the sa.
Therefore, one must not fall out of her favor.
"......'That person'."
And so, this was simply unavoidable.
I said only one thing to Leonard.
"Would not wish for your death."
“......”
Leonard remained silent. For quite a while, under the flickering light, he stared straight at .
Without a word, he gazed steadily into my eyes for what seed like an eternity, and then,
"......Sir Knight. Do you love that person?"
It was a question out of nowhere.
My brows furrowed.
“What? Who are you talking about?”
“That person. You know who I an.”
There was sincerity in Leonard's expression.
I was so taken aback I asked in return.
“...If anything, I should be asking you that. Leonard, do you admire her?”
The play had been fake, but had the actor's emotions, at least, been real?
Leonard went quiet for a mont. He swallowed, then gave a bitter smile.
"I was...... not honest about my feelings."
He looked up at the ceiling.
“I knew that person was watching . Sotis watching down from the balcony seats, sotis watching over
from the general audience. I knew those jewel-like eyes. And yet.”
Leonard lowered his gaze again and looked at .
“Only now... have I truly realized it.”
In his eyes were reverence and longing, deep envy and jealousy, and a helpless resignation.
“A man like you, rather than soone like —”
He pointed at
and gave a relieved, untroubled smile.
"could keep that person happy and protected far longer."
"......I have no idea what kind of nonsense you're spouting, but–"
“But you know, don’t you, Sir Knight? Just how cruel a place the Imperial Palace is.”
A sigh slipped through Leonard's teeth.
"I...... actually t that person, a very long ti ago. When that person was very young."
He lowered his voice, as if drawing a mory fro??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????m the distant past.
"It was by chance. A lonely girl, hiding all alone at a palace banquet."
“...What?”
This was a story I did not know.
Co to think of it, Leonard ca from a noble family.
His house had close ties to the palace, so it was entirely possible that he had t the Princess before.
“We talked back then. That person told
about their love for singing. Though I doubt that person rembers.”
“......”
I forced my mouth shut, which had almost fallen open.
Compose yourself, Maximilian.
“That single encounter, that mory, was etched into my soul. That person's voice kept echoing in my mind.”
Leonard had originally pursued a future as a knight.
For him to turn his back on his family and abandon that path, the reason was rely...... pure love.
"I wanted to be by that person's side, no matter what it took. Because I knew the madness of the Imperial Palace."
At last, I began to understand what had truly happened before my regression.
Surely, there had been Ezenheim’s sches at work, but Leonard was undeniably a man dood to be assassinated. His love for the Princess had been too deep, too pure.
He had fallen in love with soone he should never have dared to reach for, soone far too dangerous.
His cause had never been revolution.
“......”
And yet now, Leonard stared at
in silence. His gaze was heavy. It was as if he was saying: If you’re the one by her side, then I’m okay with that— and that thought left
montarily speechless.
I shook my head.
“...Don’t delude yourself. Feelings are useless. This is a matter of necessity. That person wants to hear you sing.”
I cut off all the love talk and returned to the point.
"Yes. I understand."
Still, Leonard seed to take my words as nothing more than a pretense.
“Take a look at this list.”
I had sorted out only those among the Revolutionary forces who were not Ezenheim.
"These individuals will be sentenced to imprisonnt for charges of negligence in managent and security."
Leonard's eyes went wide.
“...Is that possible?”
“Yes. It’s th??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????e only way to clear your charges.”
“......”
To the speechless Leonard, I said,
“In return, cut ties with these people from now on.”
Leonard had never been part of the Revolutionary forces to begin with. He was only drawn in by the theater.
Soone who loved the Princess couldn’t possibly be a revolutionary seeking to overthrow the Empire.
“At the very least, distance yourself from those with impure ideology. Focus on your art, and do only what you are capable of.”
Leonard lowered his head deeply. His expression was hidden, but it didn’t feel like he was acting.
"That is probably all that person wishes from you."
***
After the investigation ended, on the way out through the rear gate of the Knight Order—
A vehicle pulled up and blocked Leonard’s path. The window rolled down, and a man with a rough expression poked his head out.
It was the escort knight, Yannick.
“Get in.”
Leonard quietly got into the passenger seat.
A heavy silence filled the car.
Leonard glanced at the rearview mirror toward the back seat. A silhouette cloaked in a robe, shrouded in shadows. Most likely, it was “that person”.
"Eyes forward."
Clack.
Yannick twisted the mirror away. His line of sight was cut off.
"From now on, you answer with nothing but the truth."
Yannick growled as he questioned him.
"What did Maximilian say to you?"
Leonard stayed silent for a mont.
What should he tell her?
His cris? The severity of the punishnt? Or perhaps.......
“Speak.”
Yannick pressed him. Leonard's gaze drifted to the scenery outside the window. Rows of trees stretching beneath the veil of night. Above them, lights flickering and shimring like stars.
With a bitter smile, he began to speak.
“...A pure and earnest heart.”
"What? What kind of heart?"
Yannick asked back in disbelief, but Leonard continued seriously.
"That's what it felt like he was telling ."
He closed his eyes briefly.
He recalled Maximilian’s cold gaze as he stared him down in the Knight Order’s interrogation room.
"Of course, the words that actually left his mouth were nothing of the sort. They were dry, cold, and strictly business, but......."
Leonard had co to understand the man nad Maximilian.
The world called him a butcher, or a monster, or a hero.
But in Leonard’s view—
“Maximilian studied operas he knew nothing about, imported works, and tried to bring new productions like musicals and plays into the Empire.”
All that effort, for the enjoynt of just one person.
For the happiness of just one person.
"And also, because 'that person' wished it...... he is forgiving a man like
and putting
back on stage."
The words Maximilian had spoken to him echoed in his ears.
Leonard’s voice trembled.
“If I had been him, I would’ve killed .”
A rival in love.
A man who stole the gaze of the woman he loved.
An existence one could never face with reason.
“But he didn’t do that.”
The woman he adored wanted this man alive, and he was letting him go with such magnanimity, without a shred of jealousy or spite.
“He’s a remarkable man.”
That was Leonard’s honest feeling.
“That’s all I have to say.”
Maximilian had said quite a lot to him, but all of it had been for Justine.
So this answer was the truest one he could give.
“......”
A long silence filled the car. The Princess still said nothing. Leonard had no way of knowing what she was thinking or what expression she wore.
“...Get out.”
Yannick motioned toward the outside. Leonard bowed his head and opened the door.
And just as he was about to step out—
“When the Opera House is repaired,”
Her voice ca from the back seat.
"I look forward to it."
It was forgiveness. A declaration that she would give him one more chance.
Leonard’s eyes grew red.
“...Yes. Thank you. I’ll focus solely on myself.”
He bowed deeply at the waist.
After stepping out of the car, he stood there, gazing quietly at the vehicle as it drove away.
Suddenly, a certain voice rose in his mind like a lody.
‘In return, cut ties with these people from now on. At the very least, distance yourself from those with impure ideology. Focus on your art, and do only what you are capable of.’
The advice to do only what he was capable of.
He had failed to do that, and it had caused harm to many civilians. He had even put that person in danger.
He had received a new life from Maximilian, a man he had scorned as nothing but a pig of a noble.
"What was I...... trying to do?"
The self that had been swept up in seditious ideology and hated The Empire,
the self that had tried to win that person's heart by resorting to sothing like this,
was now so utterly pathetic that he didn't know what to do with himself.
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