Chapter 286

Rainer Wolf.

He came from a middle-class family in the Empire's center. His father was a music teacher, his mother a mathematics teacher. He had once been gifted enough to enter Empire Point, but dropped out at fifteen, and there was no record of where he spent the years afterward.

At twenty-one, he joined the lowest ranks of the Intelligence Bureau under the Imperial Guard, carrying documents. At first, no one in the Imperial Guard knew the name Rainer. But he had attended Empire Point and was highly capable, so his particular diligence soon brought him to a key position.

Then, three years ago, Rainer carried out an operation based on his own judgment.

The target was Korsak of Lobrus. Once a key strategist in Lobrus, he was also fairly well acquainted with the general officers of the Empire's regular army.

Rainer cut signatures and official seals from old documents, creating a bundle of letters that suggested Korsak was colluding with the Empire and leaking Supreme Leader Varmil's secrets. He then passed them to Lobrus through Yursled's Intelligence Bureau.

Two months later, news arrived that Korsak had been executed. Rainer became head of the Intelligence Bureau under the Imperial Guard and personally renamed it the Secret Police Bureau.

There, he investigated the shameful secrets of the Imperial Guard, the regular army, the knight orders, and government ministers.

For twenty hours a day, he and his archivists immersed themselves in organizing their files.

One general officer had diverted ten percent of the market price of a Mer business acquisition into a private account and kept a lover's house north of the capital.

Another owed five times his annual salary to casinos and was secretly repaying it by siphoning off confiscated Georgen assets.

One minister had received mana stones from the Bolska ambassador and kickbacks from a Hailand company.

Rainer had also been the first to uncover the Gennen Society, a private organization within the regular army, and report it to the Imperial family. He was also the one who traced the corruption committed by the general officers on its list.

Orderly documents. A reliable system of work.

He had merely focused on his assigned duties, yet somehow found himself at the heart of the Imperial Guard. So he conveyed to Martin Himler a new operation that would reorganize the Empire's order.

"Rainer!"

Today, it seemed the results had come.

Martin Himler, bearing gifts, sat across from him in his office.

"Something good happened today."

Seeing Martin's bright expression, Rainer took out the whiskey he had been saving and set it on the table.

Martin laughed heartily.

"Hahaha! As expected, you're quick to catch on."

Glug, glug.

Martin put ice in his glass, while Rainer poured only whiskey into his own.

"As you know, His Majesty the Emperor wants war."

After taking a sip, Martin Himler continued with a broad smile.

"We'll be taking up arms as well. It is our chance to earn merit, gain new territory, and restore the Empire to what it ought to be."

He swirled the ice in his glass and pointed at Rainer.

"It means the operation you designed will be adopted."

Rainer nodded calmly. He had expected it to some extent.

Even he thought it was an exceedingly ingenious plan.

"Yes. I will make preparations so it can be carried out at any time."

"Also!"

Gulp.

Martin drained his whiskey in one go. His Adam's apple bobbed loudly.

"You will meet Her Highness the Imperial Princess. In Maximilian's place."

At that moment, Rainer felt a tiny flame stirring within him.

An opportunity that had approached without his noticing, one he could reach if he only stretched out his hand.

"As the face of the Imperial Guard. Naturally, you must prepare and practice accordingly."

"Yes."

Rainer nodded.

"Kahaha! Let's show that bastard Maximilian a thing or two!"

"..."

Looking at Martin's smiling face, Rainer quietly sank into thought.

Had he, who had grown so much over the past few years, truly been chosen?

Probably. No, certainly.

He must have been.

* * *

Before my return, I met quite a lot of people. I was merely foolish and weak, but I liked people just as much.

Very embarrassing memories.

Yet those experiences were what made me who I was now.

The people who deceived me, admired me, used me. My encounters with them.

Thanks to them, I could imitate emotions, borrow expressions, measure the length of silence, and now deceive people myself.

Princess Justine was only a child who had never had a proper relationship with anyone, while I was an expert who had handled people in high society until I was sick of it...

"Early this morning, an armed group from Bolska attacked an Imperial patrol at the eastern Genson border. Two Imperial soldiers were injured, while the attackers fled into Bolska territory. The authorities state that this incident was carried out with the tacit approval of the Bolska government..."

In the middle of spring.

The Empire's radio continued spewing inflammatory articles and reports laced with manipulation.

"Those Izenheim bastards are up to that sort of thing again."

The ethnic conflict between the Yaken and Izenheim had reached its worst point.

The Yaken among the Sentinel Knights gathered together and spoke of the Izenheim. They shared reports that Republican Izenheim driven out of Zerpha were venting their anger by massacring Yaken villages, kidnapping Yaken children, and even cutting off Yaken noses and hanging them up, nurturing their hatred.

[ Yaken Village Once Under Zerpha's Republican Faction Found Burned to the Ground... Izenheim "Massacre" ]

[ Aran of Yursled, Still Beneath Yursled's Whip Today. "It Is Time to Reclaim Our Brothers" ]

[ Yursled Holds Other People's Land and Threatens People of Imperial Descent. Who Does Its Prime Minister Think Is a Thief? ]

On top of that, the Empire was threatening Yursled.

Ports and corridors. It was robbery, demanding regions where people of Imperial descent made up fifty percent or more of the population, and Yursled would likely refuse to yield them to the very end.

The Empire knew that, of course.

The Emperor, who wanted war, was demanding conditions that could not be accepted.

And me?

I was simply reading newspapers in my office and writing papers on military doctrine.

Having been pushed into an idle post, or in simpler terms, exiled, I could only watch them from afar.

Still, Kairon, commander of the Sentinel Knights, continued attending state council meetings and passing information to me.

Kairon's skill at making his way in the world was astonishing. He had quickly become close with the Imperial Guard's senior officers as well.

Knock, knock.

Then someone knocked and opened my office door.

"Max."

It was Julian.

"A joint operation. Will you take part?"

It was an unexpected offer.

Julian gestured outside and added,

"It probably won't be anything special, but unlike you, it seems you have nothing to do."

I rose with a small smile.

"Yes. Let's do it."

An operation with my former mentor for the first time in a while.

With war truly approaching, it was about time I limbered up.

"Have you been well lately?"

"I have."

"Why?"

Julian asked quite a few questions. It seemed he already knew the mood in the Imperial Palace.

Kairon must have told him.

"Because my appearance is exceptional."

"..."

Julian gave me a look as though I had said something incredibly irritating, but soon nodded as though he understood.

"You never grow old. You still have the same face you had when you first came."

"I have become a little more mature."

We arrived at Julian's office.

A space without so much as furniture, much like his personality. Julian pointed to a map pinned to the wall.

"It is an operation requiring an aerial insertion, Max."

A smile spread across my face without my realizing it.

"That is fortunate."

The sky.

The place where I could be freest.

"In the sky, I am stronger than Sebastian."

At words that carried a hint of excessive confidence, Julian crooked up one corner of his mouth.

...

Jean Pierre had been reinstated in Prozen.

It was funny to speak of a professor being reinstated, but still.

The radical acts of terror by groups such as the Revision Society, combined with the Empire's bloodline law, had overturned public opinion. More people now believed the Empire had to be kept in check.

The university that had driven Jean Pierre out called him back. The academic world that had ignored him published his papers again, attaching the grand label of "prophecy."

Jean Pierre himself found it all very bewildering. His homeland kept reevaluating him as it pleased, though he had not changed a single word.

"There are rumors Maximilian has stepped back from diplomacy."

Prozen's new foreign minister, Duvall, was an old friend of Jean Pierre's.

It seemed Jean Pierre's classmates were entering politics these days.

"Many people say Maximilian's diplomacy was a failure..."

He had acquired Genson from Bolska, but many argued that he had ultimately provoked wariness across the continent.

More precisely, they wanted to believe it.

"Jean. What do you think?"

What did Jean Pierre himself think?

It was a complete success.

Maximilian had obtained important Bolska territory without firing a single shot.

It was practically the first case of peacefully seizing another country's borderlands through diplomacy.

It was an achievement worthy of textbooks, but if he said so, they would refuse to acknowledge it with remarks like, "Surely you are not an imperialist?"

"...To hell with diplomacy. Tell them to hold back on newspapers like this first."

Jean Pierre waved a newspaper about in a somewhat rough manner.

A caricature making Maximilian look ridiculous.

"Insulting them like this only harms us."

"Why? It is well drawn."

"Because Maximilian is handsome."

In the end, the public looked at appearances. It was an unavoidable fact.

Of course, photographs of Maximilian had been released to the public during the Exhibition, and many Prozen citizens had seen photographs of him. But they had only seen him in black-and-white, distant shots.

The photographs in the articles had been deliberately blurred.

Why?

Because he was too handsome.

"If he were merely ordinarily handsome, I probably would not worry like this."

Maximilian was not even ordinarily handsome.

A man with the most beautiful appearance and the most dangerous ideology.

If Jean Pierre ranked the people he had seen by appearance, Maximilian would be among the top five. Add his bloodline, wealth, physique, and proportions to that face, and he was unquestionably number one.

"Several psychological theories apply to him."

"...Psychology?"

"People form expectations before meeting someone. The greater the gap between expectation and reality, the more favorably they judge them. Think about it. What if this ridiculous caricature of Maximilian appears in person someday?"

Jean Pierre tapped the cartoon in the newspaper with a finger.

"When a broker needs to sell a house, they deliberately show a bad house first. That makes the house they mean to sell seem far better."

The difference in expectations might instead cause everyone to become captivated by Maximilian.

"We are doing Maximilian a favor. For free, with all our effort and sincerity."

The foreign minister looked at Jean Pierre as though greatly impressed.

"You studied that kind of psychology too? Truly, you are the intellect of Prozen."

By then, they had reached their destination.

[ Pablo's New Works Exhibition ]

Pablo. The painter who depicted the Empire's massacres.

With political support behind him, he had gained tremendous patronage and fame, and now unveiled new works.

"...I still do not understand."

Jean Pierre toured the gallery with the foreign minister.

"How can paintings like these cost so much?"

Ignoring the words of his friend, who knew nothing about paintings, Jean Pierre walked on, then suddenly discovered a new work.

Of Pablo's many new works, it seemed to have already drawn particular attention. A crowd had gathered in one corner.

"Man Leaning on a Sword."

Jean Pierre stood before it as well.

"..."

Blond hair soaked in platinum beneath the moonlight. A man leaning on a sword with his eyes closed, whether resting or waiting unknown. The fingertips placed on the sword's hilt, the angle of his tilted head.

His face lay half in shadow, his features indistinct. It seemed to have been painted that way deliberately.

He leaned on his sword now, but seemed as though he might draw it and cut someone down at any moment...

"...Hmm. This one is worth looking at."

At the foreign minister's words, Jean Pierre murmured without realizing it.

"Sometimes... I hear the footsteps of a giant from far away."

But now, Jean Pierre no longer saw the Emperor's face before his eyes.

"They will surely come to us."

Only Maximilian's beautiful figure, sword in hand, flickered faintly in his mind.

...

At an etiquette school somewhere in the Imperial capital.

Rainer Wolf of the Imperial Guard was receiving instruction.

"You are doing very well~"

Martin Himler and the other Imperial Guard members, dressed in military uniforms, were learning aristocratic manners at this place often attended by the children of the upper class.

"Etiquette means folding yourself a little to make the other person comfortable, so it must always be shown subtly. If etiquette is displayed too forcefully, that too becomes uncomfortable in the end."

Then one Imperial Guard member asked her,

"But how skilled is Sir Maximilian?"

"Maximilian... You mean Ebenholtz?"

"Yes."

Rainer thought of Maximilian as well.

Maximilian of the Sentinel Knights. He was inevitably someone Rainer measured himself against. Of course, considering Maximilian's power, wealth, and bloodline, the difference might have been like heaven and earth. But the Imperial Guard had been created by the Emperor to keep aristocrats like that in check.

Depending on how much the Emperor trusted them, Rainer himself could certainly aim for the Moon.

"Have you seen him in person?"

"Ah, I have."

The teacher smiled briefly.

"He is a textbook. Even his aristocratic accent..."

The Imperial Guard members' expressions stiffened noticeably. They felt irritated for no particular reason.

"But it cannot be helped, really. Ebenholtz is a family that stood at the starting point of Imperial etiquette..."

In other words, rather than learning etiquette, they belonged to the line of founders that had created it.

"Rainer. I think you might become greater than Maximilian."

Martin praised Rainer. In truth, they too needed a face like Maximilian's.

"I think you may even be more handsome."

Even Rainer had to admit honestly that, among this group, he was undoubtedly the best looking. For some reason, the Imperial Guard's senior officers were nothing but ugly men.

"Again. Let us begin from the start."

Rainer spoke with enthusiasm.

"Ah. Another teacher will take over from next time. She is much stricter than I am..."

At that moment, the door opened and the second teacher entered.

The owner of the etiquette school. The eldest daughter of the noble Kandel family.

Sonnet Kandel.

She approached with an expressionless face and looked over the Imperial Guard members.

"It seems you are preparing for a new meeting."

At her beauty, the men could only fall silent.

"Haha. That is right. Not us, but this fellow. Is he not quite striking?"

Martin Himler pointed at Rainer.

Sonnet Kandel swept her gaze over Rainer from head to toe.

"Sir Rainer Wolf. The rumors I have heard certainly make you seem capable."

Rainer merely lowered his head modestly.

"I do not know whether cramming will be enough."

Sonnet picked up a switch.

"Now, then. Let us begin the lesson."

* * *

The Imperial Princess quietly read a book in the hideout.

Rustle.

Before long, that man would enter this place.

He was the first man in this hideout who was not Maximilian.

Rustle.

Justine was looking forward to it, in her own way.

It would probably be only her third private meeting. After that actor Reynold and Maximilian, this would be the third.

Rustle.

As usual, there was neither food nor alcohol. She simply turned the pages of her book in silence.

Chime!

Some signal echoed in her ear.

It was the signal that he was about to enter.

Creak.

The hideout door soon opened, and a finely dressed man in a suit entered.

Rustle.

The Imperial Princess waited for him as she turned a page.

"I am Rainer Wolf, head of the Secret Police Bureau of the Imperial Guard. It is an honor to meet Your Highness, Imperial Princess."

First came his voice, then the shape of his body below the neck.

His proportions were not too bad.

Justine, still reading, could not yet see his face clearly.

Rustle.

After turning the final page, she set down the book and slowly raised her gaze to take in all of him...

"..."

Justine fell silent for a moment.

"..."

Rainer Wolf did the same. He appeared to be trying to hide his nervousness, but did not hide it at all.

Justine twitched her eyebrows and gestured to the seat before her.

"Sit."

At her words, he sat.

"I hear you brought a plan?"

Getting straight to the point without further ceremony, the Imperial Princess found herself thinking:

"Yes. There is a plan I personally proposed to Martin Himler..."

Why is this bastard's face so long?