Semi-Coercive Imperialist

......The items secured from the Blue Rose Society's hideout.

Written-conversation scrolls, handwriting appraisal reports, handwriting comparison results, and measured drawings of the underground space. Along with them, all the considerable evidence Adria had submitted to the Sentinel and the court as a private knight was accepted.

The result was worth a round of applause.

"Knight Adria, the autopsies are complete."

At the Empire's Ninth District autopsy room, an examiner Adria had known since university spoke while wiping their hands.

"Yes. What were the results?"

"Seven of the nine were subspecies. According to their family registers, four were Izenheim, while three had completely forged identities. The remaining two were Aran."

She quietly looked at the man beside her.

Julian, the knight who had severed the heads of those nine, stood there like a stone statue.

"That's fortunate. At least only two were Aran."

Seven out of nine were subspecies. It was the perfect composition for Maximilian's propaganda. He would probably frame it nicely and put it on display.

Joshua, a young man deceived and used by the Izenheim. Innocent intellectuals whose names had been placed on a falsified list. And the cancer lurking behind it all, eating away at the Empire.

"Put it on my tab, Julian. I'll pay you back later."

Maximilian and the Sentinel had not rejected Adria's evidence. Rather, they accepted it as reasonable and launched a new line of investigation based on it.

Julian deserved much of the credit.

"The Sentinel may even compensate you, if you don't refuse."

Adria's eyes widened at Julian's words.

"Good. I'll gladly accept."

There was no chance she would refuse. She could not let her employees go hungry just to protect her pride.

The two left the autopsy room side by side.

By the time they reached the parking lot, night had fallen. They stopped briefly in front of their respective cars, as though by prior agreement.

"......"

Looking at Julian, Adria thought of someone else.

A man who showed not a speck of anger when insulted and mocked, yet mercilessly cut down minorities who broke the Empire's laws. He smiled where he should have been angry and cut people down where he could have smiled......

Maximilian was still impossible to understand.

"Julian. Do you know him?"

Julian's gaze met hers. His eyes remained difficult to read, filled with deep exhaustion.

"We don't need to know everything. We couldn't, even if we tried."

His voice was low and calm.

Was he avoiding the question, or was that answer itself his answer?

Either way, it was like Julian. Adria was secretly glad to see him as he was.

"Right. I shouldn't have asked you anything in the first place. Good work."

Adria gave a quiet laugh and got into her car. Julian sat in the driver's seat as well.

On the rain-soaked road, the two drove away in different directions.

......

Oswin Mason had stayed at a hotel in the Empire's capital throughout the case, working tirelessly. When it finally drew to a close, he returned to Zestpol.

「Mason Law Office」

The building was bathed in the fading sunset. The first floor was the office, the second a free legal counseling center, and the third the living quarters. It was one of House Mason's proud holdings, an old distinguished family.

He threw open the door to the first-floor office.

"Whew......"

He was tired.

The moment he wiped the sweat from his neck, felt along the wall, and flicked on the switch, applause suddenly erupted.

Clap, clap, clap, clap!

Oswin flinched and looked over.

Clap, clap, clap, clap!

Zestpol's people filled the office.

The families, neighbors, and acquaintances of those who would soon return from the Camp. Everyone looked at him, clapping and whistling.

At the very front stood Sarah Muller, holding a cake.

"Everyone in Zestpol is grateful to you, Attorney Oswin."

"......"

For a moment, Oswin felt conflicted.

They seemed to see this result as a victory, but had they truly won? Or had they simply succeeded in changing that monster's mind?

"Uh......"

Still, as he looked at the candle-covered cake and the tearful eyes beyond it, Oswin decided to put those worries aside for today.

"......Thank you."

Clap, clap, clap, clap!

Whatever the case, the Sentinel had listened to Zestpol. Those who had been taken away would return alive, and Joshua had escaped execution.

That was more than enough to be satisfied with......

"Everyone. This was possible because you believed in me."

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap!

As the applause grew louder and louder, Oswin smiled and embraced them.

......

Clap, clap, clap, clap!

Applause rang out across the stage. Medals were being awarded to Imperial Guard members who had rendered distinguished service. Yet among them, a Georgen agent had also stepped onto the stage.

Clap, clap, clap, clap!

Georgen had effectively operated as a subordinate branch of the Imperial Guard for a long time now.

Rumors that it would soon be absorbed outright were widespread, so it was hardly an unusual sight.

"Is that the one?"

Imperial Guard Lieutenant General Martin, Georgen's patron, asked.

"Yes. Gewin rooted out a hostile mole within Georgen during the Blue Rose Society case."

Georgen Director Heinrich answered with considerable pride.

"Knight Maximilian seemed quite pleased as well."

"Hm. I suppose he wanted to catch the true culprit who caricatured him."

The knight Maximilian Martin had encountered once, no, that nobleman, was more authoritarian and fastidious than anyone.

He hid his true nature behind elegant gestures, refined noble speech, handsome features, and a courteous voice, but even those could not fully conceal the madness lurking within.

"Carry out the knight's intentions if possible, but......"

Martin ground his teeth for a moment. Maximilian's retaliation had cost him his right-hand man, Valerian.

He could not help harboring some resentment toward him.

"Enough. What's the additional reward?"

The adjutant beside him whispered the answer. Martin's eyebrows twitched.

"......A family register?"

"Yes."

Gewin had received a promotion to inspector and a family register verification certificate.

It was a three-generation bloodline certificate, enclosed with Maximilian's personal signature verifying it himself.

It was quite...... honestly, extremely enviable.

"Hm."

Family registers had ranks, after all.

There were basic ones stamped by a clerk at a government office, those appraised by the Heraldic Institute, and those certified by the knight orders.

But a family register bearing "Maximilian's verification" stood above them all. The Empire's foremost authority on appraisal guaranteeing its purity was the sturdiest armor imaginable when it came to bloodline.

"Thank you!"

Inspector Gewin held the 「Family Register Verification Certificate」 to their chest even more dearly than the medal they had received.

* * *

Zerpha, the homeland of artist Pablo Sovakin and the country whose national pavilion was slowly gaining recognition at the World Expo, was still engulfed in civil war between the Republican faction and the Royalist faction.

Ssshhh. Ssshhhh.

A river ran through the country.

A long river called the Iber.

Ssshhh. Ssshhhh.

Mixed with the sound of the night wind flattening the reeds, the Republican faction prepared its greatest operation through that river.

Ssshhh. Ssshhhh.

The Royalist faction received supplies from the Empire. The Republican faction also received secret support from Prozen and Hailand, but no one could guarantee how long that support would last.

With the Valente Plain, the grain-producing region, taken from them as well, the Royalist faction was advancing toward the Republican faction's core.

Ssshhh. Ssshhhh.

It was only a matter of time before they dried up.

They could sit and wither away, or stand up and fire their guns.

Whooooo!

So Frank, leader of the Republican faction, and his staff devised one final plan.

Whoooo.

Gandela, the strategic point closest to the Royalist capital. If they struck that junction, the enemy's front would be split in two, while our divided front would become one.

Ssshhhh!

For this operation, they had even secured military support from Prozen and Hailand. Nearly ten thousand people, dressed in Republican faction uniforms, would take part as volunteers alongside the command staff.

The royal pigs fought on the backs of those Imperial pigs, so why should we fight alone?

Rustle.

If they succeeded.

If they could only succeed.

Whoooo......

That night.

Wooden boats crossed back and forth dozens, hundreds of times, carrying tens of thousands of soldiers through the darkness.

The vanguard broke into small guerrilla units and simply passed through the darkness between enemy watch posts, slipping into the rear.

Once the army across the river had fully gathered.

"Advance!"

Cheers and explosions rang out.

* * *

......The Republican faction's final offensive in Zerpha.

News of it reached me as well.

In truth, Zerpha's civil war was a history to which my memories from before the regression did not apply.

The Royalist faction should have collapsed from the start, and the Republican faction should have gained the upper hand, but the Empire's aid had reversed the situation.

I did not know how this offensive would begin or end.

"......Knight Maximilian. A personal letter from Crown Prince Alonso."

An agent who had rushed over from Zerpha handed me the letter.

[ To my dear Knight Maximilian...... ]

It was a request for support.

The front could worsen at any moment. The enemy might act unpredictably or devise some brilliant scheme, so I could not let my composure waver.

"......"

I considered it for a moment.

The Republican faction's offensive was large, judging by the scale described in the letter.

In other words, it was their final gamble.

If I ground down their main force there, the Republican faction would collapse.

Yet I could not send the regular army. It would be too noticeable, too serious a commitment, and might put other nations on guard.

That left only one choice......

"Just one."

Besides, I had become curious.

What sound would the Empire's blade, sharpened over several years, make in actual combat?

"Otto. Bring in one random Year 0. Anyone you happen to come across."

"Yes!"

Otto, the first staff officer, withdrew.

Not long after, a young knight entered and saluted.

"Year 0 Ruin reporting!"

"Sit."

"Yes!"

Every movement he made was rigidly precise. I asked him about the Empire Point curriculum.

"It was like this!"

Ruin rattled it off as though recounting pleasant memories.

Beyond Empire Point's hellish regular curriculum, there was one final gate before knighthood.

The so-called [Selection Weeks], lasting a full twenty weeks.

Throughout that period, candidates slept fewer than three hours a day and ate standing up in three minutes.

For the first week, their mana was completely depleted using special equipment, and they conducted full-gear mountain marches using nothing but their physical bodies.

That was followed by three weeks of physical evaluations.

It was called a physical test, but in reality it was endurance training designed to scrape the body down to its limits.

Each morning began with an ice-water plunge. During the day, they wore packs with weighted mana stones attached. Carrying loads that grew heavier with every step, they climbed sand dunes.

One of those weeks was spent in the Room of Silence.

They endured a week in solitary confinement with every sense blocked. A darkness where there was nothing and they could feel nothing, with all sight and sound shut out.

"I endured by reciting the entire text of Moonlight Below."

Ruin spoke proudly.

Afterward came the mental fortitude evaluation. Classmates became each other's interrogators and subjected one another to questioning. They learned how to endure and how to break someone through each other's bodies.

Next came the operational capability evaluation. While sleep-deprived, they repeatedly carried out small-unit infiltrations and mock battles, proving whether training manuals would still flow from their minds even when their judgment had dulled.

Then came ideological verification. Highly realistic scenarios involving family deaths, kidnappings, betrayal by comrades, and more were staged to evaluate the cadets' responses and how far they were willing to sacrifice themselves for the Empire.

After enduring all that, one final trial remained: the journey through the western frontier.

It was an old gate, one I had passed through myself.

The difference was that most of us had received Yaken guidance in my day, whereas they received no support at all.

......On the surface.

The frontier was a place where luck played far too great a role. Even a carefully honed prospect could be broken by an unpredictable variable that struck like lightning.

For that reason, the knight orders hired Yaken to secretly follow the candidates. They were to intervene only when a threat of death arose and save them.

It served two purposes.

The candidates gained the pride of having crossed deadly ground alone, while the Yaken gained status as a people who had protected knights' lives.

"You endured well."

"Thank you!"

Even compared to ten years ago, the test had grown much harsher. It was the Empire's own system for producing superhumans, one that only those with well-rounded talents could survive.

Of course, other nations had elite training programs as well. They simply valued something called "human rights," so they did not push people to this extent.

Prozen had briefly tried to imitate it, only for multiple deaths to occur and for parliament and the press to tear it apart.

Only the Adversaries in the East followed a similar curriculum.

"How many of your classmates died?"

"......Eleven."

The Empire regarded an individual's sacrifice as a collective virtue. Naturally, the bereaved families of cadets who died chasing their dreams received suitable compensation.

I asked him.

"Are you prepared to kill enemy soldiers?"

Ruin was a young man.

He could not have been much older than twenty.

"Yes."

Even so, his answer was exceptionally composed.

"For what?"

He answered my question without even a breath of hesitation.

"For the Empire."

I smiled at his resolve.

With that, my next move was decided.

* * *

Kairon was briefed directly by Maximilian on the operation.

It was the sort of matter that would one day appear in Empire Point textbooks, so he personally formed a joint command with Maximilian.

"You're here."

"Yes."

Kairon sat in the seat of honor before the desk, while Maximilian pulled a chair beside him and sat at an angle.

Only moonlight illuminated the meeting room.

Before long, one person entered.

Leon Askar.

"Max. What's going on?"

He smiled at Maximilian, then saluted the commander of the knight order with his other hand.

"Sit."

Kairon gestured ahead.

"Yes."

Then another person.

Royce, leading three Year 0 and Year 1 knights.

"Royce reporting."

One person. Dare Tan, leading two Year 2 and Year 3 knights.

"Dare Tan reporting."

One person. Hanna, accompanied by the junior knight Mia.

"Hanna reporting."

"Mia reporting!"

The two looked around the room.

"......There are quite a few people here."

They seemed to be gauging the operation's scale from the number gathered.

Expressionless, Maximilian nodded toward the empty chairs.

"Yes."

The two sat down, and then another person entered.

Zionne.

He came with Lucas Limperk.

One person.

Senior Knight Fried.

He gave the room a quick look, then leaned against the wall. He had grasped the atmosphere at once and was giving up his seat for the junior knights.

One person.

Senior Knight Cliff.

He too silently stood beside Fried.

As knights gradually filled the room, the faces of the Year 0 and Year 1 knights stiffened.

It was not fear of the operation. It was simply that seeing this many knights gathered in one place was extraordinarily rare.

"......Huh."

Year 0 Ruin froze on the threshold as he tried to enter.

The room was full of faces and names he had read about in Empire Point textbooks.

Cliff gave him a look, as though telling him to sit.

"Y-Yes."

The arrivals continued.

One person, Jeffrey.

One person, Philip.

One person, Ludwig......

The number soon exceeded forty. Even if each knight's combat strength was simply calculated as equivalent to a battalion, their force already numbered in the tens of thousands.

The room still had plenty of space, but the air was stretched tight enough to burst.

Within that dense pressure, as though their swelling presence was pushing against the walls, Kairon finally spoke.

"Knight Maximilian. Begin the briefing."

At that moment, the weight in the room converged on a single point. Everyone's eyes focused on him at once.

The younger knights felt pressure squeezing their hearts, and even the veteran knights did not look entirely calm.

"Yes."

The man himself showed no sign of tension.

He did not rush or force his voice. Remaining seated, he met the eyes of every knight gathered there.

Then he spoke calmly.

"Now we will bring Zerpha's civil war to an end."

Footnotes:

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!