novelraw Chapter 153: Inflection Point (3)
Chapter 153: Inflection Point (3)
「Imperial Citizenship Law for the Protection of Aran Bloodlines」commonly known as the「Imperial Citizenship Law」, was officially promulgated.
Princess Justine had personally proposed it, and the Emperor had stamped it with the Imperial Seal to grant his approval. There was no possibility of reversal.
"How in the world does a law this absurd and unconscionable even exist!"
The 39th District on the Empire's outskirts, 'Zestfall'.
Home to numerous magitech enterprises, universities, the Mage Tower, and various other institutions, it had united in deep concern and fury over this legislation.
"They're going to investigate everyone's family trees, and if you turn out to be an inferior race or a mixed-blood with their blood in you, you're permanently expelled from public office and universities? On what basis, and by whose authority, are they even distinguishing between pure bloodlines and inferior races in the first place!"
Joshua, the hot-blooded son of the Zestfall University chancellor, shouted with his fist raised.
But the chancellor regarded the scene outside the window with a hardened expression and shook his head.
"...Keep your voice down. That's how you bring the night upon us."
At the mayor's trembling words, Joshua clenched his fist tight."Night" was a metaphor. A metaphor for the one who had mercilessly trampled the Genen Autonomous Territory.
Across the Empire, including Zestfall, the moon was feared as much as the sun. Because no one conveyed the sun's will more precisely and unmistakably than the moon.
When darkness fell, that silver light transformed into a blade.
Before anyone had realized it, his name had become one that every non-Aran on the continent watched with dread.
"Joshua. There is a monster in the House of Ebenholtz..."
Joshua ground his teeth.
"Don't give a man like that the weight of a legend. We have our own path to walk."
The lives of his neighbors, his friends, his loved ones mattered far more than any fear of that man. At least, that was true for Joshua.
"I will fight. Even if it breaks me."
And so the grand aspiration of revolution swelled ever larger.
.......
A deep, secluded chamber within the Imperial Palace.
Chief of Staff Kurt Grossman lit a cigar and spoke in a low voice.
"Anyone who shows even a shred of opposition or discontent with this legislation will be rounded up and thrown in without exception."
Across from him, Kentz Bertem tilted his head with a puzzled look.
"The massacre in Genen was only a few years ago. Would there really be fools stupid enough to openly defy an Imperial decree?"
"......"
Instead of answering, Grossman looked at Kentz with a steady gaze. Kentz cleared his throat awkwardly and picked up a cigar.
"If there's no visible resistance, then we create it, dragging it out by force if necessary. Those people merely hide their sedition in their hearts while keeping their faces clean. I've already organized a new 'Special Imperial Guard Unit' to root out every last subversive thought."
Results.
The political credit earned from the military suppression of the Genen incident had been monopolized entirely by Maximilian of Ebenholtz.
Therefore, the ones who would thoroughly enforce this Citizenship Law and carry out the Emperor's will had to be the Imperial Guard.
This was Grossman's precaution against power concentrating in Ebenholtz's hands.
"Yes, sir. Understood."
"And one more thing."
Grossman ground the shortened stub of his cigar into the ashtray and added offhandedly.
"Goebel will be replaced soon. There's no further need for an old, incompetent dog."
Kentz felt a chill run down his spine for an instant, but he promptly placed the cigar between his lips.
"...Won't that be dangerous? Reutern II will be watching."
"Which is precisely why your role is so important, Kentz."
Grossman and Kentz had now grown wary of Reutern.
His scheming had brought about Julius's downfall, so it was only natural.
"I'm entrusting that fellow to you. Keep close, and watch him thoroughly."
A man who concealed a viper's temperament beneath a dull, witless face.
He could strike with a hidden blade at any moment, so they must never let their guard down.
.......
A secluded underground storeroom in Zestfall. Amid a jumble of odds and ends, desks, chairs, and a chalkboard, a night school was in full session despite the late hour.
"Let me explain this「Imperial Citizenship Law」that's just been enacted."
The teacher tapped on the chalkboard as he spoke. Dozens of young people crammed into the narrow basement held their breath and listened to his every word.
"This wicked law is chilling to its very core. The Empire has now decided to divide human dignity and worth entirely by blood and lineage."
The teacher wrote in bold letters across the chalkboard.
"Without a shred of scientific basis."
[ 1. The ruling bloodline, Aran ]
"Without even a minimum of logic."
[ 2. Quasi-Bloodline: non-Aran races deemed loyal enough to receive treatment equivalent to Aran ]
[ 3. Related Bloodline: those close to the Aran branch lines ]
"A barbaric classification system built solely for discrimination and oppression."
[ 4. Foreign Bloodline: those who contaminate the Empire's purity ]
"The crux of this law goes beyond class discrimination. If just two of your four grandparents are of Foreign Bloodline, or even if you merely share their religion, you can be branded 'Foreign Bloodline' at any time."
Fury seeped into the teacher's voice.
A shapeless ball of fire, with no answer and no outlet.
"Merin, Kensi, Edlem, Dromon, Ezenheim... Born and raised in this Empire, yet cast out for the sole reason that Aran blood does not run through their veins!"
Zestfall's hallmark was progressivism. In exchange for the enormous taxes it paid to the Imperial Palace, and using the expansion of the adjacent underground city as justification, it had effectively secured privileges bordering on autonomous rule.
Yet before an Imperial decree, it was ultimately nothing more than a powerless city on the frontier.
"What does everyone think of this madness?"
"It makes no sense."
One young man raised his hand calmly. The teacher nodded with a bitter expression.
"Zestfall, in particular, has many mixed-bloods and immigrants. But they, too, have sweated and bled alongside us for decades to build this city. They are our neighbors and full citizens of the Empire."
The friendly neighbor they had greeted with a smile just yesterday, stripped of citizenship in an instant by a single line of the Emperor's law?
It was an outrage that defied all human decency.
"Therefore, we..."
Just as the words were about to continue, BOOM!
The basement door was blown apart. A gust of wind laced with wooden shrapnel swept in from every direction. The students' screams were swallowed by the blast.
"...Well, well."
Thud. Thud.
Through the cloud of dust, a man walked in with one hand shoved carelessly into his pocket.
Creak. Creak.
The floorboards groaned beneath his military boots.
"Hm, you've written quite a lot up there, huh?"
He glanced at the chalkboard and let out a thin smirk.
"Hey, you fucking seditious pieces of shit!"
A savage shout rang out as the Special Imperial Guard Unit, clad in jet-black uniforms, stormed in.
"Who the fuck are you lot to dare discuss the laws of the great Empire?"
Lieutenant Colonel Lorenz of the Special Imperial Guard bellowed as he swept his gaze over the dissidents.
"Take every last one of them!"
The teacher stepped forward to shield the students, but Lorenz swung the butt of his pistol and the man's face caved in as he crumpled to the ground.
Gahhk! Aaaaagh! Ack! CRACK!
The cramped basement devolved into a pandemonium of screaming and beatings in an instant.
.......
The affluent central district of the Empire. Genen's Chief Secretary, Elias Walter, stepped out of his car. Nobles from the Imperial Palace had already gathered in front of「Lilac Vita」, the Empire's finest restaurant.
Government officials, Imperial Guard generals, members of the House of Nobles.
All of them wore expressions of anticipation for「Lilac Vita」, yet none could enter. They lacked invitations.
Elias adjusted the lines of his suit.
"A pleasure to meet you."
He approached them with a courteous greeting.
"Ah, you must be..."
"Yes. I'm Elias Walter, Chief Secretary of Genen."
The nobles looked him up and down with curious eyes.
"Shall we go in?"
Elias led the way.
He handed the reservation pass to the restaurant staff and was guided to a room prepared in advance. The nobles marveled at the interior of the far more spacious room as they took their seats.
They chatted about this and that. Some said it was their first time at「Lilac Vita」, others that it was their second visit, and still others that they were even more excited than the first time.
Elias, who had invited them here, naturally became the center of conversation.
"By the way, Elias, I hear you're originally from the Empire?"
"...My grandfather was an Imperial noble."
The nobles studied Elias's pale blond hair and golden eyes with keen interest and nodded.
"Mm, of course. Blood will always tell."
Elias gave a small smile.
"Genen shares the same roots as the Empire, after all. The same language, the same culture... It's practically part of the Empire, wouldn't you say?"
He dropped such remarks casually, and right on cue, expensive bottles of wine arrived. The nobles smiled broadly and agreed.
"Indeed. You might call us cousins. If one proves their loyalty and devotion to the Empire, they earn that standing."
"Perhaps you could make it brothers instead."
"Ha ha ha. Why not? Fine by me... Oh? Wait, this menu seems different. The amuse-bouche wasn't like this last time."
"I'm told「Lilac Vita」changes its menu every month."
Elias explained in the waiter's stead.
"Apparently they use not only Zerpha's specialties, but the finest delicacies from every corner of the world, matched to each season."
"Ah, so that's why people say a return visit is a must."
"Mm, indeed. It truly deserves its reputation as the finest not just in the Empire, but on the entire continent."
In any case, the amuse-bouche turned out to be some sort of pudding-like dish. One spoonful, and every face was awash in bliss.
Even Elias, who was focused entirely on the purpose of this gathering, found himself caught off guard by the flavor.
"...Ah, right."
Elias snapped himself back to attention.
According to Maximilian, these people ranked in the middle tier. More than sufficient to serve as stepping stones for Genen.
"About the「Imperial Citizenship Law」that was just promulgated..."
This was the heart of the matter for Elias. To steadily wine and dine these people, feeding them meals and money, and secure Genen's unshakable status as a Quasi-Bloodline.
Elias Walter was swallowing his revulsion for the sake of Genen.
* * *
From the moment the「Imperial Citizenship Law」was promulgated, the Imperial Guard tore through the Empire's center in a frenzy, and I, behind the scenes, set my own Kill List into motion.
Ezenheim who had no business holding public office.
Yukia and I had taken turns visiting sites to identify them, and now I was weeding out these monsters wearing human faces, one by one.
Rustle-
The knight's office. Today, I was not alone. There were quite a few people present.
Four members of the Imperial Guard had come to observe, and across from me sat a man they had brought in.
Rustle-
Paper pages turned beneath my fingers.
Rustle-
It was a certificate of genealogy belonging to a certain official.
A "family tree", as people commonly called it.
Rustle-
But as far as I was concerned, it only drew a scoff.
──Thump.
My heart was beating, yet this document claimed to prove that the man was Aran.
Rather a welcome thing. What would have ended in mere expulsion could now end with a noose around his neck, on the charge of forging documents.
I raised my head and looked at him.
──Thump.
I wanted to cut him down right now. I wanted to address him in the language of Ezenheim.
"Mr. Espin. You said your grandfather obtained this genealogy certificate twenty years ago, correct?"
"Yes. That's correct."
But I had to hold back. I could not show my hand to them.
"However, do you see this here?"
The lower right corner of the genealogy, the red official seal of the Imperial Central 3rd Office.
I tapped it twice.
"Take a look, all of you."
I held the genealogy up for the Imperial Guard members as well. The ones who called themselves Lieutenant and Captain craned their faces in close.
"The border is a perfectly clean circle."
A stamp is pressed hundreds of times a day, and naturally, it wears down over time.
I produced another original genealogy, one that had actually been stamped twenty years ago, and held it up.
"This is a genuine genealogy certified by the Imperial Central 3rd Office during that period. You can see the faint irregularities along the border of the seal."
Decades of difference. The bleeding of the ink pad, the imperfections in the stamp, subtly diverged.
"In other words, this document is forged."
For an instant, the Ezenheim's pupils trembled almost imperceptibly. Cold sweat trickled down his pallid cheek.
What a very human reaction.
So flimsy, so filthy, the sheer gall of it was enough to make me sick.
"You, who dared to make a mockery of a knight."
I held his gaze and scrawled my signature.
"You will face the punishment you deserve, without fail."
It was a document referring him to the Knight's Court.
.......
Late at night in the knight's quarters. I gazed out the window at the panorama of the Empire and sank into thought.
A more detailed classification system than what had existed before the regression, and Yaken's survival.
These were meaningful changes I had brought, yet the road ahead was impossible to predict.
I could not even begin to guess.
"Killing people with a pen..."
As Knight Maximilian, I had signed dozens of documents today. Knight's trials that would lead to execution, on the charge of forging genealogies.
Forty-three in total. But among them were quite a few who had been dragged in by the Imperial Guard and were not Ezenheim at all.
"Sir Knight."
Just then, Schatz entered the office.
I looked at her.
Bathed in starlight, she was the one who, before my regression, had killed my father, Sebestian.
"What is it?"
People of mine who might one day become my enemies.
How much of me could they understand? Would they stay by my side to the very end?
"Intelligence has picked up a lead. We've just received a report that a man named Emilton is attempting to flee under cover of night."
I let out a thin breath.
Emilton Beslon. A man similarly accused of forging his genealogy.
"Shall we pursue him?"
At her question, I turned back to the window and answered indifferently.
"...Let him go."
Because he was not Ezenheim.
"If he's Merin, it's actually better that he leaves the Empire on his own."
This was all I could manage.
"There's no need to waste time hunting down and killing people who are already running."
That was the best mercy I could offer them.
"Yes, sir. Understood."
Schatz withdrew in silence, and I felt the moonlight streaming in as I settled into a quiet calm.
* * *
On a day when a bitter wind was sweeping through the Empire, the rain was still pouring down in sheets over Prozen.
"...Jean."
Jean Pierre had come to see his old acquaintance, Akenzi, the Department Chief of the Prozen Central Intelligence Agency.
"So what you're saying is, this student from the national university is a strong suspect behind the bombing assassination of Minister Louis Marceau. Is that it?"
"That's right."
Akenzi looked at the composite sketch resting on the table.
A wide-brimmed flat hat. Jet-black hair and black eyes. A beauty mark beneath the eye. A distinctly masculine jawline.
It was a sketch completed based on the campus security guard's testimony.
"Felix Renoir, from the military science department."
"Evidence?"
"......"
Jean Pierre closed his mouth. There was nothing that could properly be called evidence.
The suspicion that the man had shown up right before the attack, yet had never filed for readmission. The single answer sheet that had been left in his lecture hall at that exact time, bearing no name. And the fact that the security guards had never seen Felix Renoir's face before that day.
The only bridge connecting all of these was his own intuition.
"Akenzi. People change and grow endlessly. I don't like reducing people to a binary of good and evil. Instead, I think first about the influence a person is capable of exerting."
Jean Pierre stared intently at the eyes in the composite sketch and continued.
"Felix Renoir. If he is indeed the student who left that answer sheet in my lecture hall."
He had read the great currents of the continent. He had predicted the political landscape of Zerpha and the shifts in Imperial strategy. It was no easy feat, and his insight had broken the mold.
"He would have also anticipated the power shifts between the west, the east, and the Empire that would result from Louis Marceau's death."
The assassin had severed, in a single stroke, the linchpin that would have allowed Prozen to stand against the Empire.
Jean Pierre placed his finger on the answer sheet.
"Of course, he left only a single sheet of paper, and this is all in hindsight."
In truth, history itself is hindsight. A discipline built on outcomes. The process is merely a retroactive narrative stitched together to explain them.
"This student deserves to be called a genius."
As a professor who analyzed people, Jean Pierre had perceived in this answer sheet an intellect of genuine depth.
"Which means, even if he turns out not to be the actual perpetrator of this assassination, he must be found no matter what. He's the kind of talent that could shape Prozen's future."
Akenzi looked back and forth between the composite sketch and Jean Pierre, his expression taut.
A scholar who had lived his entire life by reason and logic, that very Jean Pierre, had come rushing in out of nowhere talking about intuition. This was not something to be brushed aside.
"...I'll put my agents on it."
Akenzi nodded as he tucked the composite sketch into his drawer.
SHHHHHHH!
The rain outside the window was still relentless. In Prozen, rain fell in winter. Before long, it would turn to hail.
"Quite a downpour."
Akenzi murmured bitterly as he gazed out the window.
"Jean, don't head back tonight. Stay at my place. I've had the guest room warmed up for you."
He rose from his seat and gave his friend's damp shoulder a gentle pat.