Chapter 146: The Authority of a Knight (2) One week later.
The appeal of the criminal case Hannah Usar had been handling was underway.
"We... admit to all charges."
In the courtroom, the attitude of the nobles in the defendant's box had done a complete 180-degree turn.
"...I... what?"
Hannah, who had been busy organizing her documents, blinked in shock.
"We admit to the facts of the indictment."
They bowed their heads low like common criminals. Their high-priced lawyer was nowhere to be seen.
"..."
From the prosecutor's bench, Hannah stared blankly at the scene.
It was bizarre. For one, the appeal had been scheduled far too early. She had stayed up all week preparing a mountain of additional evidence and legal interpretations to refute the bastards' sophistry.
And now they were suddenly groveling?
"In that case, I will deliver the sentence."
The judge was no different. He rushed the trial along with an expression like he'd swallowed something foul.
"All criminal proceeds of the defendants will be confiscated, and they are hereby sentenced to five years in prison..."
The verdict was reached just thirty minutes after the court convened. Unlike the previous trial, it was over in an instant.
"...?"
After the trial ended, Hannah Usar staggered out of the courthouse. The outcome was exactly what she had wanted, but the aftertaste was unsettling. Even the clerks and court officials looked utterly bewildered.
"W-well, it all worked out in the end!"
"Should we go for a team dinner to celebrate?"
"Let's go, Sir Knight!"
"...Huh?"
Instead of joining the team dinner, Hannah simply handed them her wallet. She had spotted someone in the courthouse park.
"Go on without me! I'll just be a moment."
Maximilian. Even from a distance, he was a man who stood out, dressed in his formal Sentinel Knight uniform.
"Sir Knight!"
Hannah called out as she ran toward him. Maximilian turned to face her, simply raising an eyebrow in silent acknowledgment.
The baffling behavior of the defendants and the sudden conclusion of the trial—if she were to look for a cause, no matter how she looked at it, it could only be him.
"...Hoo."
Hannah stood before Maximilian and looked up at him. Facing his perpetually cold, golden eyes, she took a deep breath.
"Was this your doing, Sir Knight? Did you exert your influence?"
Maximilian glanced at her hands. The documents she had prepared so diligently were crumpled tightly in her grip.
"You seem to have put in quite the effort."
With that, he began to walk slowly toward an unknown destination. Hannah naturally fell into step behind him, keeping about a pace apart.
"I was planning to secure a guilty verdict with my own strength, one way or another."
"If that were the case, you should have won the first trial."
"But the evidence was so solid—"
"The judge had already been bought, and the duties of an Imperial Knight are too heavy to waste time on a mere criminal trial."
Clack. Clack.
Their footsteps overlapped. Hannah walked while staring at his back. Maximilian clearly already had a destination in mind.
"You are a Sentinel Knight before you are a commoner. If you are defeated in something as trivial as a trial, it is not a reflection of your personal incompetence; it becomes a problem for the entire Sentinel Knights. I have no reason to tolerate such a humiliation."
He finally stopped and turned to look at Hannah.
"Knight Hannah Usar. If the result is just, do not concern yourself with the means. We are short on time, and you have your own power and authority."
My own power and authority.
"Remember this. You are a knight before you are a commoner."
"..."
The defeatism toward the nobility that Hannah had unconsciously harbored—the defeatism that was inevitable for any commoner—Maximilian had seen right through it. After a moment of deep thought, Hannah nodded.
"Yes. I will keep that in mind."
"Good. Get in."
They had arrived at a parking lot. Maximilian gestured with his eyes toward a luxury car.
"Ah, I have my own car."
The moment Hannah pointed to her beloved ride, parked not too far away...
Pshhhhhhhhhh—
A thick cloud of black smoke erupted violently from the seams of the old clunker's hood. It was dead. It was no longer a car; it was scrap metal.
"...I'll take that ride."
Hannah bit her lip in embarrassment and climbed into the passenger seat.
"..."
Maximilian stared at her intently.
"Get in."
"..."
"Yes?"
"..."
What in the world is with this man? A question mark popped over Hannah's head.
"?"
"..."
"What is it?"
"..."
Hannah blinked and looked around. There she was, sitting in the passenger seat, while the driver's seat remained empty. Only then did she realize her mistake.
"Ah, I thought... a separate driver would be coming."
She quickly scrambled over to the driver's seat. Only then did Maximilian get into the passenger seat beside her.
"...Ahem. Where to?"
"The Sentinel Headquarters."
Hannah stepped on the accelerator.
Vroooom!
She was amazed by the car's performance as it shot forward.
"Whoa..."
She drove with her mouth agape. It had been far too long since she'd driven a car that responded so perfectly to every turn of the wheel and every press of the pedal.
Whoosh.
Gliding smoothly, they soon crossed the heart of the Empire and arrived at the Sentinel Knights Headquarters. Maximilian got out of the car. Hannah, feeling a pang of disappointment, followed him out.
"Um, Sir Knight. The key..."
Hannah politely held out the car key. Maximilian gazed at the key in her hand for a moment before speaking nonchalantly.
"It just so happens I was due for a new car."
"...Huh?"
He gestured toward the luxury vehicle with his chin.
"I'm saying you can have it."
"...Huh?"
With that, Maximilian walked into the headquarters.
"...Huh?"
Hannah stood there, dumbly staring down at the key to a top-of-the-line, latest-model luxury car in her hand.
*
The deepest sanctum of the Imperial Palace.
Beyond a crimson-black curtain, the Emperor sat upon his jade throne, slowly reading through a document.
"It is a law to protect the purity of the Aran people, Your Majesty."
A proposal for a new policy. A voice full of grace tickled the Emperor's ear.
— Mmm.
The Emperor set the document down gently and smiled with satisfaction as he looked toward the speaker.
— Explain it to me in that beautiful voice of yours.
The woman began, a faint smile on her lips.
"Within Your Majesty's great Empire, there live Merin, Sled, and countless other immigrant races from across the borders, not to mention the various sub-species..."
The Empire was the most superior nation, so it was understandable that they would want to live within its territory. But was there truly any reason they should be granted "citizenship" equal to that of the Aran?
Should these inferior beings enter into matrimony with an Aran, the purity of the people would be forever tarnished. Therefore, in the name of the law, this "filthy intermingling" had to be blocked at its source.
This applied not only to the sub-species who were not even close to human, but also to those with dark skin, or those who followed religions too alien to the Empire—those for whom religion had become their entire life.
The Emperor closed his eyes gently. As if savoring the lyrics of a beautiful opera, he listened intently to the words she murmured.
"I wish to name this law, which will form the very foundation of the Empire, the 'Imperial Citizenship Act for the Protection of Aran Blood.'"
The articles of the bill flowed like poetry from between her red lips.
"Article 1: Marriage between other races or sub-species and those of Aran blood is strictly forbidden. Article 2: Extramarital sexual relations between Aran and these others shall also be defined as racial contamination and be severely punished."
The retainers standing behind her exchanged nervous glances.
"Article 3: Inferior races may not employ those of Aran blood under the age of 40 as domestic help or private servants."
This was to cut down the riffraff who dared to use money as a weapon to command the Aran.
"Article 4: They may never use the sacred flag of the Empire or the colors that symbolize our nation. Article 5: Other races and sub-species have the duty to pay taxes to the Empire, but their right to hold public office is permanently revoked... Thus, I propose these measures to protect the purity of the Aran."
Even with the law still incomplete, the smile never left the Emperor's lips.
"From now on, only those who possess Aran blood—only those who prove through their actions their will and ability to be loyal to the Empire—will earn the qualification of a true 'Imperial Citizen.'"
— Then who is an inferior race?
"I intend to clearly define that ambiguous standard as well."
The Emperor listened quietly, then smiled.
— And with whom will you define this standard?
"There is an academic society I have been watching. It is a place Your Majesty is already familiar with."
— ...Your heart, which thinks of the Empire and its people, is so lovely.
At the Emperor's praise, she bowed her head and replied with elegance.
"Not at all. All this wisdom and resolve..."
The eldest daughter of the eldest son, the master of the most perfect and legitimate bloodline in the Empire. The Emperor's only flesh and blood.
"It is all thanks to the great virtue of my father."
Princess Justine smiled, her lips the color of fresh blood.
*
There is a place in the Empire called the "Kaiser Society."
On the surface, it is an academic organization that studies the history of civilization and anthropology, but in reality, it is a cradle of madness that enjoys the secret support and favor of the Imperial family.
This place is crawling with future war criminals who will one day drench the continent in blood, all of them obsessed with racial hierarchy. They seek to assign grades to humans as if they were livestock.
"Ah, Sir Maximilian, a pleasure to see you. What an honor for you to grace us with your presence. This way, this way."
The chairman of the Kaiser Society, Wilhelm, guided me into his study. The man with the neatly parted hair looked tense.
"Have a seat."
I sat down, casually pulling a book from one of the shelves.
[On the Class Structure of Mammals]
It was a zoology book.
"...Dr. Wilhelm. I heard you research the races."
"Yes. Of course. Ah, could it be that you, Sir Knight, are also interested... of course you are! I've heard the rumors."
"Indeed. I am not only interested, I am in complete agreement with your opinions, Doctor."
I smiled to put Wilhelm at ease.
"Just as animals are divided by rank, a clear hierarchy exists between the races. It's only natural."
"Ah, of course! You speak the absolute truth!"
Wilhelm suddenly pulled out a stack of books from under his desk and slammed them on top.
"These are books I've written. I have plenty of stock left over..."
"Explain it to me in your own words."
"Yes. First and foremost, our Aran people are at the very top. Someone like you, Sir Knight, with your perfect traits, is the very idol of the Empire. Blond hair, golden eyes, tall stature..."
Wilhelm looked at me with an ecstatic expression.
"Anyway, to explain—"
The racial hierarchy was as follows: The Aran were at the apex. Just below them were the Genen and the races of the western kingdoms, who shared the same roots. Because their history with the Aran was deep, they could be called "Quasi-Aran."
However, the Merin, the eastern Sled, the Edlem, and the other sub-species mired in the muck at the bottom of the pyramid were so inferior they weren't even worth considering.
"What do you think?"
Their insane theory would one day become reality. Seventy percent of the Merin would be massacred, and more than half the total population of sub-species would die in concentration camps.
I will not be able to stop this wave of madness on my own. No, I shouldn't even try. If this is a necessary sacrifice to annihilate the greatest evil, Izenheim...
However.
"However, Chairman Wilhelm. You are neither blond nor golden-eyed. Does that make you inferior?"
At the very least, a minimal degree of selection and control must be exercised. That is why I am building my power.
"What? Ah, those physical traits are... well..."
Wilhelm faltered. He nervously smoothed down his black hair.
"This is what I think."
I tapped my temple with my index finger.
"Spirit is more important than appearance. Of course, it is best if the appearance is satisfactory, but even if one's appearance is slightly lacking, if one is an Aran of noble spirit, born and raised in the Empire, then he is an Aran. Like your own exceptional and brilliant mind, Dr. Wilhelm."
"Ah...! You're right. Spirit! That's it!"
Wilhelm nodded his head vigorously. I continued, as if persuading him.
"That is why I believe there is a hierarchy even among the sub-species, and that each has its own use."
I took a photograph from my coat and handed it to him. It was a picture of an Aran Shepherd named Leo, sitting majestically. His very posture was different.
"This is the dog I'm raising."
"Ah, a magnificent canine."
"Yes. Among the sub-species, the Yaken are like this dog. Their senses are sharp, and they are loyal to their masters. If trained properly, they could become excellent hounds for sniffing out the impure elements hiding in our society."
"...What?"
At Wilhelm's question, my expression hardened.
"You heard me. Do not ask me to repeat myself."
"Ah, sorry, my apologies. You're saying... we should use the sub-species as livestock, like dogs?"
"Precisely. Those so-called descendants of dwarves are also useful for their manual dexterity. However, there is a race that I consider the absolute worst."
Wilhelm blinked, then answered in a small voice.
"Are you perhaps referring to the Izenheim?"
"..."
I stared at him intently. A smile I couldn't control spread across my lips.
"Mr. Wilhelm. You're a genius."
"I... I am?"
"That's right. If you investigate the impure elements who participated in the revolution, you'll find a particularly high percentage of Izenheim."
The actual data supported this, but to make it more certain, I was in the process of fabricating statistics and figures. Ideological criminals who died in prison or were executed were, whenever possible, being marked down as "Izenheim."
This is why I've been bribing the prisons.
"They are targets for extermination and cleansing, with no room for compromise."
At that, Wilhelm swallowed hard.
"Ex-extermi... c-c-cleansing?"
"..."
It seemed he hadn't gone that far in his thinking yet. I asked him coldly.
"Don't you agree, Chairman?"
"Uh, uh... yes. Yes. I agree."
Wilhelm nodded, flustered.
"In that case."
I placed the bag I had brought onto his desk.
Click.
A blue light spilled out from within. High-purity mana stones. A bribe more reliable than cash and impossible to trace.
"...S-Sir Knight?"
"A donation."
"A d-d-donation?!"
"Use it for your research, wherever you see fit."
Wilhelm stared at the mana stones with eyes full of emotion. It was a face of pure joy—not from greed, but from the fact that he had secured research funds. I watched him dispassionately for a moment, then stood up.
"Well then, it was a good conversation."
"Yes, yes! For the Empire!"
Wilhelm gave a clumsy salute. I walked out of the Kaiser Society, their farewells following me. The world had turned to night, and the cold air filled the depths of my lungs.
Yesterday, a rumor had circulated in the Imperial Palace. It was about a policy called the "Imperial Citizenship Act for the Protection of Aran Blood."
I had thought it was Johann's policy, as it had been enacted before my regression, but I was wrong.
"Hah..."
Perhaps a monster had already made its nest in the depths of the Imperial Palace. Perhaps it had been there from birth. Johann may have merely been the one to refine that person's—Justine's—will.
I quietly closed my eyes. Even I cannot afford to fall out of the Emperor's favor yet. Zebestian is my father, but he would prioritize the Emperor over me, so I too must act the part of a loyal subject. The Ebenholtz family will only become mine when Zebestian allows it.
"What a fucking mess."
I opened my eyes again and looked up at the night sky. The stars shone coldly from an impossibly high place.
"...Why."
A primal question suddenly bloomed within me.
"Why must the Empire be yours?"
The dark monarch of a future already doomed. You, who will lead the Empire to ruin with your own obstinacy, are of no help to humanity at all. Why must I, the most accurate prophet and pioneer on this continent, serve you, who are nothing more than a broken clock?
"...The heavens are in the heavens."
And yet, the heavens were still in their place. And I was still below them, stuck to the ground.
"..."
Grow stronger, Maximilian.
Only you can fulfill humanity's greatest desire.
* * *
T/N: I just TL'ed this update instantly for now, I will revise or Re-TL it when I have time if there are problems with it
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