I kept watch over the ground from high above. The noise of the helicopter, rotors and engine alike, was remarkably quiet.
That was my own thod of utilizing mana.
Every person, every knight uses mana differently. Likely because the properties and nature of one's mana differ, as does the "path" each pursues.
───
In my case, I handle mana in the purest way possible. It was a primitive application of the Virus within my body.
Simply radiating Ebenholtz's mana outward and transferring its properties. Thus, when I coat the entire helicopter in a thin layer of mana, the noise is absorbed and all presence fades.
That is why, in this night sky, the helicopter can fly like a phantom.
"......."
I gazed down at the distant ground through the open door of the helicopter. A single silhouette was visible, darting nimbly across the rooftops.
He might have been able to evade eyes on the ground, but from up here, his figure was far too clearly visible.
WHOOOOSH───
With the wind crashing over , I prepared to descend.
Compared to jumping from a transport at several thousand ters altitude, a drop from a helicopter hovering at a re few hundred ters allowed far more precise control.
FWEEEEEE──!
I threw my body into the empty air.
The fierce wind stread over the surface of my wingsuit. I scattered mana, controlling the air resistance. Adjusting my glide angle.
My target was the assassin on the ground.
Just one.
Tick──
Suddenly, the ti of the world slowed into a sticky crawl.
Moisture beading like water droplets. The swaying wind. And the trajectory of each stride the assassin took.
For that instant, all of it seed frozen like a photograph.
Tap──
I layered a step of mana onto the empty air and kicked off,
then accelerated once more in a straight line, rocketing forward.
───.
A precision strike targeting only one person.
A decisive sword strike, driven at a calculated angle without a hair's breadth of error.
Shhk──!
A silver flash split the darkness. Before the assassin's dagger could reach Alonso, my longsword silently severed the bastard's neck first.
Thud. Roll, roll, roll.
The assassin's torso pitched forward under its own montum, and the severed head tumbled across the alley floor.
It was a beheading that shed not a single drop of blood.
─Thump.
The beat of my heart confird what the thing had been.
Ezenheim.
I turned to Crown Prince Alonso, frozen stiff.
"Crown Prince Alonso. Are you alright?"
Alonso exhaled the breath he had been holding and gasped.
"Ma– Sir Maximilian! My close aides, those loyal subjects, are still in the palace–"
"Yes. I'm aware. Lieutenant Colonel Han?"
Lieutenant Colonel Kai Han and the Chief of Security supported the Crown Prince by both arms.
"Please go on ahead, Your Highness. You are more important than anyone else in all of Zerpha. You must preserve yourself, above all. I will handle the rest."
At my polite urging, Alonso nodded again and again, his eyes reddening. His escorts disappeared along with him.
I turned to face the opposite direction from where the Crown Prince had gone, toward the palace.
BOOOOOM──!
Explosions erupted from every direction.
The rebel forces' armored vehicles were blown apart in chain detonations by pre-buried mines, and plainclothes soldiers struck at the rebels' blind spots, collapsing their command structure.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT──!
At the center of an intersection where street fighting was in full swing.
─Lay down your weapons and surrender!
Brigadier General Esp, a Royalist Faction commander loyal to Alonso, raised a loudspeaker.
─This is a fight in which you have no cause!
A coup's success or failure is decided within the first twenty-four hours. Therefore, this was already a failed rebellion. Yet the rank-and-file soldiers who had joined the revolt had been dragged along under orders from their superiors, most of them none the wiser. They were rely young n sacrificed to the greed of those above them, fighting simply to stay alive.
─Make no mistake, young souls! You are not traitors! The traitors are those rotten generals who drove you into this deathtrap!
Night passed, and dawn began to break.
As the first light illuminated the city streets, Brigadier General Esp's impassioned address filled the capital of Zerpha.
─Young n! Realize where the muzzles you hold should truly be aid! For your holand and your families, do not shed aningless blood!
It rang with sincerity.
One by one, Zerpha's young soldiers set their rifles on the ground. Tears stread down their faces as they raised both hands.
─Young souls! You are not traitors!
Hundreds, then thousands of soldiers surrendering in a cascading spectacle.
This was the power of having a just cause, and the force of agitation and propaganda.
─The traitors are those rotten generals who drove you into this deathtrap!
This speech, too, had been scripted by Johann Goetze.
Marveling once again at his talent, I gazed at the morning sun slowly rising on the far horizon.
.......
The battle that had erupted in the capital of Zerpha concluded within a single day.
The opposing forces had been the rebel army versus the Royalist regular army a??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????nd the Imperial Army.
"......We've captured and are transporting half of the rebel generals."
Brigadier General Esp, a Royalist Faction commander, reported to .
"Lieutenant General Pavel and several other ringleaders appear to have fled, and the whereabouts or status of several others remain unknown."
Step.
I heard soone approaching from behind. Crown Prince Alonso was there, staggering forward with the support of Lieutenant Colonel Kai Han.
"Your Highness. I'm relieved you're safe."
When I offered my greeting, he looked up at
with vacant eyes.
"......Sir Maximilian."
"Ye??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????s."
I stepped closer. The Crown Prince's lips quivered.
"The palace– what happened to the palace? My people......"
What he was desperately asking about was most likely the fate of the "close aides" who had stayed in the palace to the very end.
"The Deputy Minister of Justice, the Chief Secretary, and three other officials are dead."
At my words, the color drained from Alonso's face.
"It appears they fought the rebels to the end and fell valiantly."
Of course, they weren't actually dead.
I had been planning to pull several operatives out at around this stage anyway. In other words, it was simply the expiration of their contracts.
No matter how skilled an actor, no one can live the life of a spy forever. Force them to, and things only go wrong.
For those whose aptitude no longer suited the work and who wanted to return ho, I had simply arranged an exit scenario of "honorable death
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