Semi-Coercive Imperialist

Whirrrrrr.

The Prozen Republic's leading newspaper, Le Gemion.

Editor-in-chief Lucien picked up one of the newspapers pouring out of the rotary press like a waterfall.

"Whew......"

He exhaled a long stream of smoke from the cigarette hanging crookedly from his lips, then grinned.

"Wow, look at this composition. It's art. Real art."

The photograph itself was black and white, but it was more than enough to send ripples across the continent.

Lobrus's red ranks stood in formation on the left, while the Empire's pitch-black forces filled the right. At the very center, where those two opposing seas met, the representatives of each nation clasped hands.

"Exactly!"

"The composition is incredible."

The staff gathered around him stared at the freshly printed newspaper, their faces flushed with excitement.

The Empire's monster, Maximilian, and Eastern master Tatiana Volkov. The tension between the two seemed almost alive on the page.

"Sir, this is the color original our correspondent sent separately."

Lucien's eyes narrowed as he accepted the printed photograph from the employee.

It captured Maximilian's face from closer up. Golden hair shining under the sun, the composed elegance of an aristocrat. And then there was Tatiana, a woman as hard as steel, facing him head-on.

It was like jewels crashing against iron.

"......Wow. Hey, announce that we're selling this separately."

There were, of course, people who said it was improper to print and sell an imperial noble's esteemed face so casually, or that portraits ought to be preserved only through a painter's brush.

But that was old-fashioned nonsense from the days when cameras were scarce.

Photography had advanced enormously over the past four or five years. Cameras were now piled up in newspaper warehouses, and even ordinary people on the street had begun pressing shutters.

Once someone walked into a public square on their own two feet, their face belonged to everyone.

And this was Prozen. Imperial rules had no chance of crossing the Selua River.

"Print them in color on premium paper, limited edition. The VIPs will go crazy for them."

"Yes, sir!"

"Think of it as this month's bonus and get to work. Forget about resting until the Expo is over."

"Of course!"

Whirrrrrr.

Lucien looked up at the spinning rotary press with satisfaction.

"Those imperial bastards...... can be useful once in a while."

With a snort, he ground out his cigarette beneath his shoe.

......

The newspapers printed in bulk in black and white, along with the finely developed color photographs, swiftly spread through the political circles of major continental nations, including Prozen, Hailand, Itelic, and Yursled.

Politicians fixated with unusual persistence on the "hands" Lobrus and the Empire had clasped.

They advertised it as peace.

Look, weren't the Empire and the East holding hands so warmly? This was history. The fear of war was nothing more than the delusion of cowards.

"If you still insist that the Empire is plotting war after seeing this photograph, that only proves your incompetence in failing to read the course of the times!"

Le Parlement, the Prozen Parliament.

Senior lawmaker Clemang raised the photograph high over his head and shouted from the podium.

He intended to use this single photograph as a weapon to cut the defense budget, all for his faction's interests and his own position.

......Of course, that probably wasn't the only reason.

"The Empire and the East also desire peace and shared prosperity for humanity! What else could this photograph be, if not proof of that? Even invoking war in connection with them is a provocation, a senseless act of reckless antagonism!"

Peace.

They shouted only what they wanted to see and hear.

"At this World Expo, we shall gain one noble flower called peace, not the smell of blood and gunpowder!"

Clemang finished his impassioned speech to cheers from his fellow lawmakers.

Naturally, the opposing faction only scoffed as though he was not worth answering.

"Let's go."

"Yes."

After finishing his keynote address ahead of the World Expo, Clemang quietly left the assembly hall. He climbed into the official vehicle waiting at the main entrance of Le Parlement.

Click.

The rear door shut, and the car pulled away smoothly.

Clemang naturally lowered his eyes to his feet.

A heavy-looking black suitcase.

"......"

He forcibly suppressed the smile trying to escape. Struggling to control the twitching corners of his mouth, he turned his gaze toward the window.

He would have to count it at home to know exactly how much the price of peace inside amounted to, but they had never disappointed him even once.

This time would be more than satisfactory too.

......

Rumors from Prozen had spread all the way here, to the deepest heart of the Empire.

「World Expo: A Handshake of Peace.」

The photograph, praised as history, appeared in newspapers in several continental countries.

"What do you think?"

Princess Justine asked. Supreme Commander Sebastian picked up the newspaper she had set down.

"You must be proud of your son."

It was beautiful propaganda, capable of concealing the Empire's intentions for war.

Sebastian answered without taking his eyes off the page.

"He still has a long way to go."

There was not a trace of warmth in his reply.

"Anyone can speak, and anyone can step forward. Judgment, though, is based on results."

A man who put no emotion into his words even when speaking of his own son.

Was he actually doing this for his son, or was he making clear that his loyalty belonged solely to the Emperor?

"......You're cold."

Still, Justine knew. Sebastian had worked hard and achieved a great deal. Yet he had discarded all of it and devoted his entire life to the man called the Emperor. Like he himself said, he was a man who spoke through results.

Even Justine, who trusted no one, acknowledged Sebastian.

"I heard you will accompany the Emperor on opening day, Sir Sebastian."

"Yes. That is correct."

Whenever the Emperor left the Empire, even briefly, Sebastian always accompanied him.

That was the real reason Sebastian had effectively retired from the front lines.

He had become a man who guarded only the Emperor.

"It's reassuring to know you'll be there."

It was not empty flattery. Any place Sebastian occupied would be safe from every kind of danger.

"It's an honor."

Still, he was difficult to spend long periods around. He spoke very little, and the atmosphere around him was always heavy.

Quite different from Maximilian, who had a way with words and made an effort to carry a conversation.

"Then, Sir Sebastian, I'll see you again that day."

"Yes. Rest well."

Justine gave him a graceful nod and left his office.

Tap.

The moment she stepped into the corridor, her guard knight followed behind like a shadow.

Yanik Jackal.

The strongest in the north. A prospective Jackal whose strength was said to rival Sebastian's... though strictly speaking, he was not yet a Jackal.

The Jackal surname was permitted only to the heir of the family, and Yanik was merely one of several candidates.

Nor is he entirely my man. He too is one of the watchers.

Inside the imperial palace, everyone watches everyone else. Perhaps even the Emperor, my father, is watching me.

But it does not matter. My father's purpose and mine ultimately overlap.

War.

This continent is sick.

Subspecies parasitize the civilization built by Aran blood. Mixed blood muddies the lineages. Inferior creatures dare speak of equality.

There is a reason my father and I, the most noble and pure Aran, particularly despise the Izenheim and Mer.

Look at the trades they pursue.

Finance. Lending. Brokerage. Appraisal. Speculation.

They produce nothing with their own hands. They only wedge themselves between the blood and sweat of those who create, siphoning away profits.

On top of that, they have no history.

No homeland, no king, no graves to protect.

They are rootless things.

But I must not mistake the matter.

The Izenheim are only an especially visible tumor, not the disease itself. The source of the sickness is every subspecies.

Even if the Izenheim alone are cut out, the disease will grow again as long as its root remains.

What is needed is not surgery, but land clearing.

A task of tearing everything up by the roots.

War is the means to achieve it.

Racial superiority cannot be proven through arguments at a desk. Only struggle can prove it. The race that fights and wins is superior, and avoiding that judgment is an admission of inferiority.

Cleansing and purification.

And duty.

"Your Highness. What do you think of Maximilian?"

Yanik suddenly asked.

"People in Prozen have been talking about him a lot lately."

The World Expo had drawn the continent's attention. The Empire's prestige was on the line there. The Emperor wanted the highest. At the very least, he wanted the Empire to surpass Lobrus.

Without looking away, Justine asked, "Do you doubt him?"

"No. I was only curious what Your Highness thought...... Do you trust Maximilian?"

Justine gave a small smile.

"Not being able to trust someone and not wanting to trust them are different things."

If she could not trust someone, she only needed to suspect them.

But she would not even test someone she did not want to trust.

Just as the only answer for subspecies was eradication and cleansing, a test was something given only to a person whose answer she wanted to hear.

"......I see."

Whatever Yanik understood from that, Justine did not elaborate.

She looked toward the light at the end of the corridor and thought.

Perhaps I envy Father.

The Emperor with a loyal retainer like Sebastian at his side. A perfect subordinate who speaks only through results.

Perhaps that is why I want to believe Maximilian could become my Sebastian.

That is why I am testing him.

* * *

D-Day dawned gentler and brighter than ever before.

「World Expo: Pavilion of Peace」

To announce its opening, the President and Prime Minister of Prozen stood on the semicircular terrace at the center of the palace, accompanied by a delegation of ministers.

Before them, tourists, press corps, honor guards, and countless citizens of Prozen filled the square all the way to the horizon.

Fwaaaang!

The fanfare rang out on schedule.

♩♬♪♬♩ ♩♪♩♬!

Trumpeters lined along the palace roof sounded the signal for the opening in unison, and the noise of the square subsided like a receding wave.

The flags of the Expo's participating nations were raised one by one.

Cheers erupted across the square in their respective languages whenever their nation's flag rose. When the final flag reached the top, the President stepped before the loudspeaker.

"In the name of the Prozen Republic, I welcome every friend across the continent. Here and now, at last, I declare the World Expo officially open!"

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Ceremonial cannon fire rang out along the riverbank. The solemn melody of Prozen's national anthem flowed from the orchestra. Dozens of fountains surged skyward. Cages opened, and hundreds of white doves flew over the slogan 「Pavilion of Peace」.

I watched the World Expo's opening from in front of the Imperial Pavilion.

The sun was still up.

"Shupel. Is everything ready?"

"Yes. Perfectly."

The mana stone projectors had already been assembled and installed. The Empire's art was prepared in all its grandeur, but it would have to wait until the sun set.

The sun was our enemy.

In the meantime, the other national pavilions revealed themselves one by one. Balkania, Prozen, Hailand, Itelic, Berkina, Kanilan, even Mekerel.

But only two remained.

Lobrus and the Empire were still surrounded by tents.

I was waiting for the right moment. Lobrus was acting out of pride.

People had gathered in the square before long. There were many familiar faces.

Kents Bertem, Leutern, Ezel, Sonnet Kandel, Jun Kandel, Sentinel knights led by Kairon and Cliff, regular army general officers in civilian clothes, the Imperial Guard, Elias Walter, Gennen's next prime minister, even Charlotte and Halbert Goring from the Titan, along with Agent Nils.

Imperials were not the only ones there. Notable figures from every other country had gathered here as well.

......The Emperor, the Princess, and Sebastian were probably watching me from somewhere too.

"Sir Knight."

A staff official approached and whispered something to me. Lobrus had sent word proposing that they unveil their pavilion together at five in the afternoon.

"We'll proceed as planned."

The protagonist always makes his entrance last.

I already knew what Lobrus's sculpture was. It was the sort of work that had to be revealed while the sun was still up.

"Open it at exactly eight tonight."

The longer they waited, the more it favored me.

......

"What's this? Why aren't they unveiling it?"

Leutern looked around, holding ice cream in one hand and cotton candy in the other.

The noon opening had passed long ago, but the Imperial Pavilion remained wrapped in tents without even a hint of movement.

"It's a battle of pride."

"Pride?"

"Yes. You see, it's like this......"

Bern whispered an explanation from beside him. Leutern blinked after hearing it.

"Huh? Oh, so that's what it is?!"

The Imperial Pavilion in the west, the Eastern Pavilion in the east.

Leutern scrunched up his face and clenched his fist.

"Don't unveil it! Don't lose, Max!"

He glared at the Eastern Pavilion, wrapped in red canvas.

"Those bear bastards are really crafty...... How dare they challenge the Empire? How dare they?!"

While Leutern growled to himself, Sonnet and Ezel, standing on the other side of the square, had also roughly grasped the situation.

"......It looks like it'll take quite a while."

Ezel answered Sonnet's remark without much interest.

"Wanna bet how many hours it'll take?"

They had become casual with each other by then. In truth, it was more like Ezel was being one-sidedly friendly toward Sonnet, but they did have something in common.

「Outcast」.

They were both fans of the manga.

"......That's petty."

"Hm? What's petty?"

"I saw it all. You asked earlier when they were unveiling it."

Making a bet when she already knew the answer.

Ezel bit her lip for no reason.

"Ahem. I didn't hear the exact time, so......"

A little farther down from them.

"Um...... Lady Grossmann."

Halbert Goring cautiously began, watching Charlotte's reaction.

"You see, I've been considering a Camp business venture lately."

"......A Camp?"

"Yes, yes. Camps get tax support these days, and you can run businesses using prison labor. It's a real gold mine...... Let me cut to the chase. Please help me!"

"......Here? Right now?"

Kairon and the knights, on the other hand, waited calmly for the right moment. They were tourists, but they were also there to protect the imperial VIPs amid the crowd.

The knights' eyes constantly swept through the people, watching for suspicious movement.

"......I'm concerned."

Kairon looked up at the black tent covering the Imperial Pavilion. He had been told beforehand that it would open at nine that night, but the wait still left him feeling strangely anxious.

"I heard the Eastern representative is famous."

Kairon shook his head at Cliff's words.

"She's more than just famous."

As someone from a nouveau riche family who was obsessed with refinement, Kairon knew very well who Tatiana was. Her name appeared constantly in the art magazines he subscribed to.

"Even those arrogant Prozen critics acknowledge her......"

Could Maximilian defeat such a genius?

......

Across from the Imperial Pavilion stood the Eastern Pavilion.

"Our request to unveil them simultaneously has been refused."

Tatiana gave a hollow laugh at the report from a member of the Adversaries.

"Ha! How utterly unlike the Empire. They claim to be a great nation, yet they behave worse than a minor one!"

With her arms crossed, she furrowed her brow.

"Then we'll wait too!"

No matter how many hours it took, they only needed to take down the tent before the day was over.

"That is the Supreme Leader's attitude."

"Are you sure? You said yourself that our sculpture is completed by the sun."

Tatiana ground her teeth for a moment. Her brow twitched as she glanced toward the western sky.

"......The sun sets late in Prozen."

Maximilian waited for the right moment, but Lobrus fought alone to preserve its pride.

The same silence. Different intentions.

The two national pavilions faced each other as they watched the sun go down......

* * *

As the entire continent soaked in the festive mood of the World Expo.

Drip. Drip.

Hanna Usar moved through a damp, gloomy sewer where water dripped from the ceiling.

She was investigating the Blue Rose Society.

......In truth, she was following Julian's trail.

Drip. Drip.

Julian's traces were faint, but he had certainly visited this place.

Drip. Drip.

Disguised as a sewer maintenance worker, Hanna shone her flashlight into every corner of the walls.

Why had Julian passed through here?

She calmly examined the interior.

Then, at one point, she spotted a ripple of mana that was difficult to see with the naked eye.

It was a strange symbol carved into the sewer wall.

"......A marker."

Hanna muttered and turned around.

"What do you think? Can you sense it?"

At her question, Karak, the Yaken staff official, nodded. He approached the wall and sniffed at it, then hurriedly recoiled.

"Fuck!"

He cursed and clutched his nose.

"Why?"

"Ah, sorry, Sir Knight. That fishy stench hit me all at once. How do I put it...... It smells like someone crushed dozens of rotten fish together."

A distinctive foul smell that certain Yaken could sense only from Izenheim.

Hanna ran her gloved hand along the wall.

"Then...... can you tell which areas are stronger and which are weaker?"

"You mean, this smell?"

"Yes. Check the density of the smell."

Karak swallowed hard and steeled himself. The smell was torture even for a Yaken, but at the knight's command, he pressed his nose close to the wall.

Sniff. Gag. Sniff. Urrgh. Sniff. Bleurgh.

He carefully endured wave after wave of dry heaving.

Sniff.

"These three places...... are especially strong. There's definitely a difference in the smell's density."

There was nothing remarkable about the graffiti Karak pointed to.

"The density of the smell......"

As Hanna considered those words, a thought flashed through her mind like lightning.

"......It's a conversation."

They had used this place as a hideout, carving something into the walls to exchange information.

Otherwise, there would be no difference in the density.

One marking was stronger because it had been carved recently. Another was weaker because it was older.

Different traces of time left on the same wall.

They had come and gone from this wall at staggered intervals, communicating with each other.

"They talk through smell?"

Karak's eyes widened.

"No. They probably talk through that graffiti. The smell is more like an impurity in their method of communication."

Had the Izenheim invented a method of communication all their own?

Hanna irritably brushed back her hair.

"Ha, because of these fucking bastards, I can't even go see the Expo. What the hell is this..."

"Shh."

Karak suddenly grabbed Hanna's arm and pulled her back.

"I sense someone. Someone's coming this way."

The Yaken's sharp senses, a step ahead even of a knight's.

"Let's hide."

Hanna whispered softly.

The hiding place Hanna chose was directly overhead: the ceiling, where no one in a sewer would think to look.

They silently leaped up and clung to it.

"......This is why knights trust the Yaken."

She whispered to Karak beside her.

Karak grinned, and the two hid themselves in the darkness of the sewer.

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