Chapter 143: Political Strife Lately, a heavy stillness has settled over the Imperial Palace. Or rather, every step taken feels as sharp as a blade's edge.
It is unclear whether the Emperor is aware of the current, cutthroat political strife.
No, he surely knows.
However, since the intrigues of the palace have always ended in a way that benefited him, he likely remains a serene spectator this time as well.
The nobles of the palace no longer meet one another. They no longer know whom to trust and whom to doubt.
Reutern I was similarly refraining from meetings and audiences, but for him, it held a slightly different meaning.
The current incident had escalated into the attempted murder of his only child.
Because of this, he was desperately suppressing himself, fearing his boiling rage might explode...
That was certainly the case, but today, an even more preposterous rumor reached his ears.
"A self-staged incident?"
"Yes."
Even his confidant, who was always rational, grimaced as if he found it difficult to contain his anger this time.
"It is said that Julius suspects it was a charade orchestrated by Reutern II himself."
"Ha."
It was madness.
Pure insanity.
The prospect of being the first in a century to be dismissed from the House of Nobles, coupled with the threat of execution, must have finally snapped something in his mind.
"No matter what delusions that madman spouts, the moral high ground is on our side. What about Maximilian?"
Maximilian.
Within the Sentinels, Maximilian was the only knight capable of fully handling and controlling an incident of this magnitude. The same went for the Sentio Magic Tower.
It was no coincidence that Ebenholtz of the Sentinels and Luncelot of Sentio were designated as the leads for this case.
"He continues to maintain a very cautious and objective stance, focusing solely on securing physical evidence."
"...He has no choice. It is an affair involving the Imperial bloodline, after all."
Though the pace of the investigation was frustrating, Reutern found himself taking a liking to Maximilian.
It was because he had overheard, via wiretap, the words Maximilian had spoken to his son.
— That unique brilliance... the kind that only comes from someone who looks toward the distant future, tempering their internal strength while perfectly concealing their own intentions.
He liked those words very much. Maximilian certainly had the insight to see through people. He had perceived the heart of a son that even his own father had not known.
A friend of the son is a friend of the father. It could be no other way.
"They will strike us soon. Keep the guard at the highest level at all times, and station anti-assassination forces densely around the hospital where the Second is staying."
"Yes. I will keep that in mind."
The confidant turned respectfully to leave.
"...Um. Lord Reutern."
Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks.
His name was Bern. A former knight of the Sentinels who had served as Reutern's subordinate for over thirty years, he was Reutern's deepest comrade.
"Just in case. On the off chance."
Because they knew each other so well, the lord could vaguely guess the knight's next words.
"If this truly was Reutern II's intention..."
The thought was too irreverent to finish, but Reutern I had already considered even that possibility.
"I do not believe for a moment that my son would do such a thing by putting his own life on the line, but..."
If this incident truly was a charade staged by Reutern II.
"If the scale of his ambition is that great, then as a father, it would be my duty to let myself be deceived."
In fact, it would be something to be proud of.
A wrinkled smile bloomed on the old royal's lips.
The confidant nodded as if he felt the same and turned away.
*
Meanwhile, Sonette Kandel was reading a book deep within the Imperial Library.
Or rather, she was pilfering them while keeping a lookout.
"..."
She slid an ancient tome into her sleeve, tucked another into her inner pocket, and stuffed yet another into her undergarments.
She planned to return them after taking them back to her estate and finishing the transcriptions anyway. These precious books would surely rather be read by someone than rot away in this place.
Even the security of the Imperial Library, notorious for being impenetrable, had grown lax recently.
Perhaps the Emperor was also joyfully awaiting the impending struggle.
She waddled out of the library. Since she was wearing a robe, it shouldn't be noticeable.
"There isn't even anyone around."
The nights in the palace were dangerous now.
However, no matter how much she thought about it, Sonette Kandel found Reutern II's transformation bizarre. The Reutern II she knew was absolutely not that kind of person.
Was he being manipulated by someone? To think so, his pride and ego were disgustingly firm and lofty. He was the type of person who was impossible to control because you never knew which way he would bolt.
Sonette pondered as she waddled along.
...Maximilian.
When guessing the mastermind behind the interesting or continent-shaking events happening in the Empire lately, picking Maximilian would make you right half the time.
But this time, it felt different.
He had no motive. There was no grudge that would drive him to ruin Julius, and no profit to be gained from doing so.
If he hated the House of Julius, he should logically hate the House of Reutern as well, and above all...
Maximilian was a man of incredibly strong self and pride.
There was no reason for him to suppress his own personality just to side with Reutern.
Then, had Reutern truly been hiding his ambitions all along?
To Sonette, who had watched Reutern since they were children, that didn't seem right no matter how much she thought about it.
Tap, tap, tap.
Faint footsteps suddenly reached Sonette's ears. The sound of armed forces running quietly through the palace corridors.
Inside the palace, a small whirlpool had finally begun to stir.
This commotion would not leak outside the palace walls, but inside, the stench of blood as foul as any battlefield would soon permeate the air.
Yet, once everything was finally settled, they would all diligently fix their appearances and act noble as if nothing had happened.
*
Julius Valentin von Arensburg was a royal of a fallen kingdom. A noble being who had inherited the exalted blood of his ancestors.
Since being incorporated into the Imperial Palace, the Arensburg family had built up power and factions over a long period, scattering wealth and influence.
Perhaps it was all to prepare for days like this.
"Tell them that if they do not stand by my side and move now, it will mean mutual destruction."
However, the bastards who had been greedily swallowing Gigantes' black money and swearing loyalty were now trying to draw a line between themselves and him.
It was a truly wretched situation where emotion reacted before reason.
"Yes. Understood."
Julius hadn't understood this situation from the beginning. The Gigantes bombing. To compensate for the massive investment losses suffered in that incident, they were siphoning off the remaining surplus stock and selling it on the black market.
It should have been nothing more than a common business practice, making up for everyone's losses by raising the price three to four times with a black market premium.
But through the machinations of some pig, it had become a dagger aimed at his heart.
"Are the troops ready?"
"Yes."
There was no way to prevent the dismissal from the House of Nobles. Too many had already turned toward Reutern's side.
"First, transmit the ledgers to them."
Therefore, the choice Julius could take was blackmail.
He would coerce them by bringing up the ledgers of those who had taken his money.
"Keep the private soldiers sharpened and ready to deploy at any moment."
And, the final resort: slaughter.
He would strike the necks of the members who would clearly cast their votes for Reutern, physically reducing the number of ballots.
*
One day. At a certain moment.
Before they pointed swords at each other, before blood was spilled.
By a very coincidental alignment of the wills of everyone involved in this political strife, a meeting was arranged.
A private meeting between Reutern I and Julius.
Perhaps, the last chance for reconciliation.
"..."
"..."
The two nobles, with grim expressions and accompanied by no aides, entered the conference hall.
Outside, their respective guards stood side by side in a state of taut tension, waiting.
Thud.
It was impossible to know exactly what conversation took place behind the firmly closed doors. However, roars and insults unbecoming of royal dignity erupted.
The word "charade" fell from Julius's lips, while verbal abuse like "nothing but a leech" poured from Reutern.
Bang!
In the end, both stormed out of their seats at the same time.
Their oversized egos had collided.
Reconciliation was, of course, impossible, and on that very day, the guard knight Bern came to visit Reutern II in the hospital.
"Bern."
Reutern looked up at Bern from his hospital bed. To Bern, his face somehow felt different than before.
"Yes."
"You must kill him."
Those words from Reutern.
A short sentence spoken in his usual, somewhat childish voice.
"..."
But Bern understood the implication and was certain of his suspicion. The young master, who had seemed like a mere boy, had grown up before he knew it. He had come to possess such a sharp, feral nature.
They say you can know the depth of ten fathoms of water but not the heart of a single man, and it was truly so.
Bern felt a sense of pride and a chill at the same time.
"...Yes."
With a respectful nod, he placed flowers into a vase.
*
Late night at the Imperial Palace. Pitch black, without a single ray of light.
The intrigue suddenly commenced, unbeknownst to anyone.
Assassins moved silently like ghosts. They crawled along the ceilings or snuck into someone's bedchamber through the floor to kill.
Squelch!
Sharp blades carved through flesh.
However, behind those assassins, other assassins appeared.
Clang! Clang!
The sharp sound of metal, swords clashing. Sparks flew, illuminating their masks in a vermilion glow.
Clang! Clang—!
Imperial guards, or private soldiers secretly raised by each house.
They waged a silent civil war in the heart of the palace.
Clang. Clang.
At that hour, the Emperor was sleeping quietly in the Sanctum.
Or perhaps, he was watching peacefully with a smile.
The act of his subjects consuming their own strength by carving away at each other was, in a broader sense, a deed similar to that of a loyal subject, as it only served to strengthen the Emperor's power.
Clang—
Julius's assassins secretly infiltrated the homes of the members belonging to Reutern's faction and aimed for their throats.
But already, perhaps from the moment this fight began, the scales were tipped.
Clang—!
In war, the side with a just cause always has the advantage.
If there is no justification, people choose surrender over fighting to the death.
"...P-please, spare me."
Covered in the filth of national wealth outflow, Julius's side, whose momentum had already collapsed, quickly lost their will to fight as they were driven into a corner.
They threw down their weapons.
"I-I surrender. I'll surrender. I... I was coerced by that old man Julius!"
In that darkness, the numbers of the Julius faction dwindled helplessly...
Finally, Bern, holding a blood-stained sword, arrived deep within Julius's detached palace.
Crash—!
He broke through the firmly closed bedroom door and entered, but...
"...He is not here. It seems he has already fled."
"Even royalty can tuck tail and run. Pursue him immediately. He couldn't have gone far."
"Yes!"
At Bern's command, everyone turned to track the trail.
Bern also moved, leaving Julius's empty residence behind.
*
Before the darkness lifted, the palace intrigue was concluded.
Before the sun could even rise, every bloodstain scattered here would be wiped clean.
As if nothing had ever happened.
*
Julius retreated. It was unavoidable. Reutern II had planned meticulously to ensnare him, and he saw no way to escape the trap for now.
"Step on it harder."
"...Yes."
Vrooooom.
In preparation for the worst-case scenario, the escape route had already been perfectly set.
Kanilan. Since he had stored all his assets in a bank there, he could simply start over from that place.
He had to forget the misery. As long as he had time, as long as he was alive, there would always be a chance—
Bang!
A gunshot rang out from somewhere. The vehicle's wheel buckled.
Screeeeeech—!
The vehicle lost its balance. It spun like a top, leaving ink-like marks on the road.
"What the—urgh!"
Screeeee— Thud!
It slammed into a tree off the road. The car's engine let out a roar and died.
"..."
In the space where silence had settled, suddenly.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The resonance of steel trampling the road surface.
Julius looked through the crumpled window. Before he knew it, the Imperial Guards had arrived. He was surrounded in an instant. In front, behind, to the side—there were nothing but those damn Reutern bastards.
"A pleasure to see you, Lord Julius."
Reutern's confidant, Bern. He gave a light bow. Julius bit his lip as if resigned.
"...Let my family go."
Bern looked inside. In place of Julius's son, who had passed away early, there were his grandson, granddaughter, and daughter-in-law.
"Hmm. I am sorry, but the order I received from Lord Reutern was..."
He pulled a heavy mana bomb from his coat.
"...'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.'"
He placed it with a thud onto the mangled hood.
"If you manage to survive this explosion—"
"There's no way I could survive. You know that too."
The veins in Julius's neck bulged. His blood pressure soared from rage, causing a nosebleed, and the capillaries in his eyes burst.
"Because... all of this... was your... self-staged... charade!"
Bern did not respond. He felt there was no need for a long conversation.
"Well then. You've worked hard all these years, old man."
"You bastard...!"
Just as he was about to smirk and press the detonator.
Flash—!
A light so intense it seemed it would blind them suddenly washed over them. Simultaneously, several figures rushed in. Not only Julius but even Bern was startled, and the guards quickly assumed combat stances, but...
"—Stop right there."
Everyone froze at that voice.
Step. Step.
With composed footsteps descending through the beams of the searchlights, a single man soon appeared.
Squinting, Julius managed to look toward him.
"It seems everyone is slightly mistaken, but this is strictly outside the Imperial Palace."
Coolly settled golden eyes and golden hair. Along with a gait full of dignity. A quiet gaze that approached without a hint of disarray and swept over this mess.
"Therefore, this is an area where the duties and authority of an Imperial Knight fully apply."
A knight of Ebenholtz, exuding the elegance of a Great House.
Maximilian walked between them as if it were nothing, and no one there dared to block his path.
"Unless it is a state of war."
He picked up the bomb placed on the hood.
"You do not have the authority to summarily judge suspects who have not even stood trial. The same applies to collective punishment."
The grandson and granddaughter trembling inside the car. They were ten and nine years old, respectively.
Glancing at the two, Maximilian tossed the bomb far into the forest.
"From this moment on, the Sentinel Knights will take Julius Valentin von Arensburg into custody."
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