Semi-Coercive Imperialist - Chapter 161: Blizzard (3)
Concentration Camp.
It was an agonizing, and difficult word.
In the future before the regression, the Empire had massacred tens of millions of people there.
A factory where human malice had been systematically and organizationally condensed to its peak, exterminating races with maximum efficiency.
A barren… yet still unfinished site, where endless gray concrete walls stretched on and on, and barbed wire and watchtowers rose starkly into the air.
I had begun the Concentration Camp project a little ahead of schedule.
Because the number of Ezenheim that humanity needed to exterminate was at least ten million.
And because the number of other races that needed to be saved was on a similar scale.
“It’s certainly bleak.”
As I stood gazing at the place, someone approached.
Chiron.
“Yes. Those who will end up confined here have no need for beautiful scenery.”
He chuckled softly and nodded.
“There’s going to be a hearing for Anton.”
…Indeed, he seemed to have no interest in something like a Concentration Camp.
“I’ve obtained the letters Anton has been exchanging. There’s room for subversive interpretation… no, outright subversive phrases were found in great abundance.”
Chiron was a truly transparent man. Having clawed his way up here by any means necessary, ‘that position’ he had craved his entire life was now tantalizingly within reach.
He must be going mad with impatience.
“Yes. Don’t let your guard down.”
At my composed advice, Chiron nodded.
“Oh, right. A rather important mission has come in. The ‘Yumanov’ Family of the east, you know them?”
I raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Of course.”
The Eastern Alliance was literally ‘a coalition of multiple nations located in the eastern part of the continent’. But the bulk of their military power actually originated from a single hegemon called Robrus.
A formidable one-party dictatorship that held the vast eastern lands in its grip.
The Yumanov Family was, simply put, the Ebenholtz of Robrus.
“The direct heir of the Yumanovs is visiting the Empire, apparently.”
The direct heir of the Yumanovs was an only child.
In other words, it meant the east’s Maximilian was coming to the heart of the Empire.
The heavyweights I could never have met as the spineless person I once was, people I could hardly bear to face, were now walking in one after another.
“In any case, since this is an eastern dignitary of the highest rank, the Sentinel should naturally provide a thorough escort and surveillance.”
Chiron looked at me with meaningful eyes.
The Empire and the Eastern Alliance were currently smiling at each other while hiding knives behind their backs. Thus, for now, they were extending a certain degree of courtesy to one another.
“I’ll go.”
I answered without hesitation.
“As expected, no one’s better suited than you.”
Escorting top-ranking foreign VIPs… I had a feeling this would keep falling on me from now on.
“However, be careful. The east’s behavior has been strangely off lately.”
At that moment, Chiron surprised me once again.
He seemed to have caught, however faintly, the currents of the Great Purge through his own intelligence network.
“There’s some kind of peculiar undercurrent, you see.”
The Premier of the east was about to do something insane.
An incomprehensible act to solidify his own power. Internal slaughter that crushed countless generals and elite families.
“Yes. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Before long, a blood-soaked blizzard would sweep across the continent.
…….
──Whooooosh.
The Imperial 1st Airport.
A military transport aircraft, of a design entirely unlike civilian planes or passenger jets, touched down on the runway. Emblazoned prominently across the front of the fuselage was Robrus’s distinctive fierce beast insignia on a crimson background.
As I watched it approach, I straightened my clothes.
THOOM─!
The heavy hatch opened, and from beyond it, people descended.
All of them were Adversaries of the Eastern Alliance, each wearing a sword of identical make at their waist.
Thump──
In that moment, my heart thumped.
Among the Adversaries, there was an Ezenheim.
I had expected as much.
They surveyed the area first and formed a protective formation, and only then did one person walk out from within the transport.
Click. Clack.
An elegant stride. Ash-tinged blonde hair and cool blue eyes. A woman who gazed up at the sky where sleet was scattering, a tiger-skin coat draped over her shoulders.
“Ah~”
The heir of the Yumanov Family── Yelena Ilyinichna Yumanov.
“Are you the knight of Ebenholtz?”
Clack. She stopped five paces before me.
“Yes. I am Maximilian von Ebenholtz.”
“Sir Maximilian. A pleasure to meet you.”
To her, beaming brightly, I also smiled and gestured toward the vehicle standing by beside us.
“Shall we go together?”
“Mm. Will you be riding with me as well, Sir Knight?”
“As you wish.”
“Then let us go together.”
She was fluent in the Imperial language. More refined than even a native Imperial citizen.
“As you know, that rather horrible bombing incident occurred in the western Prozen recently. It’s a bit frightening to go alone.”
Her bearing and manner of speech were those of a true aristocrat. Etiquette, gestures, stride, expression, all of it perfectly polished formality.
“Yes. Let us go.”
Yelena climbed into the back seat, and I sat beside her with an appropriate distance between us. The Adversaries would follow in a separate vehicle prepared for them.
She spoke.
“Originally, I had wanted to visit that new facility called ‘Aternum’, but I was denied on the grounds that it’s a top state secret.”
“Yes. My apologies. Entry is restricted to those of pure Aran Imperial blood.”
I answered while looking out the window. Yelena likewise gazed out her window.
“I see. The Empire is quite firm in that regard. Rather than fighting each other, it seems we should be learning from one another.”
“Wise words indeed.”
Neither of us meant a word of it, but given our positions, there was nothing to be done about it.
Every single word was diplomacy.
“Then, is your reason for visiting the Empire simply tourism?”
“Ha ha. Yes. That’s right.”
She turned toward me with a smiling gaze.
“I truly have no ulterior motive anymore. I’ve come simply to enjoy the Empire’s splendid culture.”
“Yes. I see.”
After that, there was nothing more of note said.
The vehicle soon entered the center of the Imperial capital. Thanks to the roads having been cleared in advance.
“First, a meal has been prepared.”
The finest restaurant,「Lilac Vita」.
We stopped in front of it. Stepping out together, I introduced the building across the way.
“This is the Empire’s proudest restaurant.”
“I know. Lilac Vita. So this is the place. Its reputation has already spread far into the east.”
We slipped quietly through the back entrance of「Lilac Vita」.
A private room like a crystal cavern, reserved for this meeting. A glittering space with a wide table, and only two chairs.
“Meals for your escorts have been prepared in a separate room.”
The Adversaries seemed to deliberate for a moment, but Yelena waved them off, saying it was fine.
“By your command.”
The Adversaries’ salute was quite unusual.
Once the two of us were alone and seated, the courses were served one after another.
Starting from the amuse-bouche, her eyes went wide at the first taste.
“The Empire truly has so many delicious things!”
While saying this, she elegantly raised her wine glass. I likewise raised mine, and clink.
We toasted.
After we each took a sip, she suddenly said,
“I’ve heard that Sir Maximilian advocated for the「Imperial Citizenship Law」.”
…Before I knew it, that was what I had become. If the Empire were to lose, I would probably be the war criminal among war criminals.
Compared to before my regression, the situation had improved considerably, and I had even built escape hatches into the legislation, but my name had simply become too prominent.
“So I had expected a far more monstrous appearance, but you’re nothing of the sort.”
Meanwhile, more dishes arrived.
I silently picked up my knife.
“You don’t look like someone who would discriminate against races so fiercely, Sir Knight.”
I cut a bite of the truffle-wrapped meat, ate it, and looked at Yelena again.
To her, watching my mouth with interest, I offered the appropriate words.
“It can’t be helped. This is not discrimination, but distinction.”
“Hm. Distinction, you say. I’ve heard the Empire uses a classification called Subspecies.”
“The east does the same.”
East, west, everywhere, hatred toward ‘them’ was ingrained. They simply did not flaunt it or act on it as openly as the Empire.
Even Yelena did not deny that much.
“Among the Subspecies, the Ezenheim especially are parasites that simply cannot be trusted. Robrus should be careful as well. If Ezenheim occupy key positions, it could collapse an entire society.”
“…Hm.”
She set her fork down for a moment.
“Ezenheim… as a matter of fact, the Premier has been racking his brain over this lately. Some swindlers have been spreading rumors that the Premier is an Ezenheim.”
She was telling me, of all people, an intimate internal matter of the east.
Was she probing me?
Most likely.
I concealed my expression and answered.
“Let us hope it’s not true.”
But at the same time──
Click.
Something resonated in my mind, as if a puzzle piece were snapping into place.
What if the General Secretary of Robrus, the Premier of the Eastern Alliance, Varmil Makstun, was truly an Ezenheim?
The history from before my regression, now not far off: the Great Purge.
Why had the Premier of the Eastern Alliance so recklessly beheaded countless generals and powerful families, collapsing the chain of command?
Why had he carried out a bloody purge even at the cost of diminishing national strength?
Every history book from before my regression had simply dismissed it as the logic of a dictator ‘seeking power to stand against the Empire’, but what if.
What if the truth that the Premier was an Ezenheim had been slowly leaking out, and the Great Purge was the only way left to contain it?
“─Don’t worry. It’s surely not true. But even if it were, not much would change.”
Yelena said this with a smile.
I, too, smiled in much the same way.
“No. If it were true, a great many things would change.”
In a nation centered on the Sled race, the fact that the very pinnacle of their leadership was Ezenheim would certainly be a fatal disqualification, enough to topple the entire regime.
Yelena’s expression stiffened slightly.
“…Do not cross the line, Sir Knight. This, too, is diplomacy.”
“Then let us leave it as unofficial conversation.”
I did not press deeper either.
“Hm, yes. Let’s do that.”
Yelena smiled leisurely again and focused on her meal.
I watched her quietly.
“Oh?”
Yelena ate a bite of the steak she had cut. Suddenly, her face changed into that of an innocent girl.
“Wow! This is delicious!”
She exclaimed with genuine admiration, eyes sparkling. I offered a faint smile.
“Yes. Please, enjoy yourself.”
She loved fine food. Her poise was impeccable, and she never lost her dignity. She had no interest in making enemies needlessly, and her convictions appeared very firm and deep.
“Lilac Vita, its reputation was well-earned!”
Yet the woman smiling before my eyes did not have long to live.
Because the Yumanov Family would soon be annihilated by the Premier.
Direct line, collateral branches, all of them, every last one, would be purged.
“If I may ask, Sir Knight. Is there another schedule after this Lilac Vita?”
“Of course.”
The newly reconstructed「Imperial Royal Opera House」.
I just needed to take her there.
“Yes. I’ll look forward to it.”
Swish. Swish.
With that, Yelena focused on her food. I too moved my knife, sinking into a certain train of thought.
The Great Purge was a major event that would weaken the east’s military strength. In other words, it was advantageous for the Empire. Therefore, there was no reason to stop it, and in the first place, it could not be stopped by my power alone.
Even if I told the woman before me, ‘You will be purged by the Premier’, she would not believe it, and it would be an immediate diplomatic catastrophe.
“This is delicious. Why hasn’t this kind of fine dining developed in Robrus…?”
The Great Purge would forever transform the Eastern Alliance. The east’s military capability itself would be shaken, but since the opposition that could challenge the Premier would be eliminated, the alliance would actually unite far more firmly against the Empire.
Therefore, it might be worth keeping alive at least one person who could directly strike at the Premier’s ‘legitimacy’.
That much, perhaps, I could accomplish with my own power.
* * *
Late at night in the Imperial capital.
Having returned to her hotel suite, Yelena thought about ‘that person’ she had met today.
─Chik. Chijijik.
Through the scattering cigarette smoke, the face of the man called Maximilian surfaced.
He was handsome. At the same time, a vicious racist. His usual demeanor was gentle, but when discussing Subspecies, he turned endlessly cold.
He was the man who had classified the entire Sled race of the east as ‘Alien Bloodline’, an extremely dangerous person whom no Sled should ever dare associate with.
In his heart, Yelena was probably nothing more than another target for disposal.
“…Things have certainly changed.”
She leaned against the balcony railing and gazed down at the city below. The current state of the Empire concerned her just as much as Maximilian did. Compared to the intelligence the Eastern Alliance’s secret police had gathered in the past, the Empire of today was an entirely different world.
First of all, the look in the citizens’ eyes and the way they walked through the streets were different. A blind loyalty and an inexplicable vitality enveloped the entire city.
“Ezenheim…”
The word about that race that Maximilian had let slip during their meal lingered at the edge of her lips.
Rumors that Premier Varmil of the Eastern Alliance was Ezenheim, or perhaps Merin, were quietly seeping out from the deepest reaches of the eastern leadership.
However, for Yelena, it truly did not matter whether the Premier was Merin or anything else. The Premier was undeniably a leader of the caliber to stand against the Empire, so─
Knock knock.
A sudden knock at the door. Yelena tilted her head. She was certain they had reserved the entire floor.
She stubbed out her cigarette first and walked over to open the door.
“…Huh? Sir Maximilian?”
Maximilian stood before her. Vivid eyes and vivid golden hair.
“Yes. It’s Maximilian.”
He gave a wry smile and gestured to the side with his eyes.
“I had intended to send someone to deliver this, but I thought you would likely be suspicious.”
Around him, Adversaries stood with their eyes blazing. Yelena nodded.
“Ah. I see. What brings you here?”
“It’s nothing much, just a gift I hadn’t been able to deliver.”
Maximilian handed over a small case.
A gift? Blinking as she took it, Yelena suddenly turned playful.
“Hrrgh─!”
She opened the lid facing Maximilian.
“…?”
Maximilian stared blankly and tilted his head. Yelena laughed out loud.
“…What was that?”
“It could have been a bomb. I was joking.”
“…Right. Well then, good night.”
Maximilian reacted with no amusement and turned away, and Yelena, sheepishly scratching the side of her head, went back inside and examined the case.
Inside sat a single crude parchment and a slip of paper, nothing else.
She picked up the note first.
────────
Today’s meeting was quite enjoyable.
This parchment is a very special item that can convey messages to one another regardless of distance.
Our circumstances seem rather similar, so I offer it in case it may be of help someday.
────────
What on earth is this.
Staring at it intently, she picked up the fountain pen from the table and scrawled playfully across the blank space of the parchment.
[Can you read what I’ve written like this?]
Barely a few seconds later, blue letters surfaced.
[Of course. However, this parchment has a communication range vast enough to span the continent, and since it emits no Mana waves, there is no risk of the contents being leaked. In exchange, it is a consumable that fundamentally cannot be reused. The production cost is also exceedingly steep.]
In other words, don’t waste it on pointless messages.
“And yet he wrote far more than I did.”
Yelena rested her chin in her hand and stared at the parchment.
There was no reason for her, a power player of the Eastern Alliance, to keep open such a secret channel of communication with an Imperial knight, but his words, ‘our circumstances are rather similar’, certainly resonated.
“Refusing someone’s goodwill would also be poor manners.”
Above all, Yelena was curious about Maximilian’s true intentions. An imperialist consumed by the hollow supremacist delusion of being ‘Aran’.
Why had he, who surely despised me as a Sled, offered me something like this parchment?
