Chapter 112: Dream Road The Imperial Royal Opera House.
The final stop on the Princess's itinerary was the most famous opera house on the continent—at least, it had been in the world 'before the regression.'
That was how it was back then.
It wasn't quite there yet. While it could be called the best within the Empire, the Progen Republic was far more flourishing in the fields of culture and the arts. Even the citizens of the Empire had to grudgingly admit that much.
— Poor Giro! How vain is your love!
Instead, this Royal Opera House was where a very special story would be forged.
— Ah! It feels as if my heart is being seared with fire!
I looked up at the VIP balcony. Princess Justine and her escort knight were there.
However, Justine's expression wasn't particularly good. The VIP balcony had a restricted view, making it ill-suited for actually enjoying an opera; she personally preferred the general seating.
I turned away to maintain my watch. I entered the corridor leading to the backstage area of the opera house.
I spread my mana thin to sweep the interior, extending my senses to detect any potential enemies.
Thump—.
My heart gave a microscopic tremor.
I shifted my gaze and stared toward the end of the corridor, where the shadows lay thick.
Thump—.
The Virus reacted. It was the presence of an Eisenheim.
I walked toward it silently.
Thump—.
The space was bustling with staff moving props and tending to costumes in the waiting rooms. Amidst the chaos, a man walked by, carrying a ladder on his shoulder.
He looked like an ordinary staff member in work clothes, but my heart was pointing directly at him.
"..."
I approached him and intentionally brushed against his shoulder.
Thud.
"Dammit, what the—! Oh, I-I'm so sorry!"
The man looked annoyed for a split second, but he quickly bowed his head in a hurry.
I stared at him intently.
Right now, I held the power of life and death. Anyone threatening the safety of the Imperial Family was subject to summary judgment. If I killed him now and performed an autopsy, the evidence of him being a sub-species would surely emerge.
"..."
I gripped the hilt of the sword at my waist, staring holes through him.
"U-Um… Sir Knight?"
The man's eyes shook as he faced me. His lips turned blue, and his complexion went pale.
His fear felt vivid.
The race known as Eisenheim mimicked human emotions even better than humans themselves. That was why they were so revolting, so much more chilling.
"Johann!"
Just then, someone shouted loudly and ran over. I turned my head. It was a man wearing heavy stage makeup. It was Leonard, the star of the Imperial opera scene.
"Johann, what are you doing here? Move it! Are you not going to prepare for the next act?"
"I, uh…"
"Go! Get going!"
Johann was certainly a common name.
"Don't just stand there like an idiot, go!"
Leonard forced the Eisenheim away. The Eisenheim scurried off as if escaping, and I looked at Leonard instead.
Leonard was the first to speak.
"Sir Knight. What are you doing here?"
"…I am on duty."
At my answer, Leonard furrowed his brow. He carried himself with great dignity.
His attitude was undaunted, even before a knight. It was likely because he himself hailed from a prestigious knightly family. He was an eccentric man who had become an opera singer to purely pursue his dreams, and his sense of self was as firm as his convictions.
"I don't know what your mission is, but doing this during a performance is a disturbance. You're frightening the staff."
Leonard was a gallant man of a noble house.
Justine was the Emperor's daughter.
The reason this place became famous was because of these two.
One day in the not-so-distant future, the Princess would visit the opera house without an escort and get caught in a terrorist attack. The person who would save her then was this opera singer, Leonard.
The two would fall in love like a twist of fate. It was a rare occurrence in the Empire—or perhaps because it was the Empire, it became the romance of the century.
"Yes. My apologies."
I shook my head with a faint smile.
"I suppose I was being too sensitive."
However, the end of that story was a tragedy.
Leonard was assassinated. The culprit was speculated to be a spy from the Eastern Union, the Revolutionary Group, or even a staged act by the Imperial Palace concerned about the dilution of power, but the truth was never known.
The Princess, having lost her lover, went to extremes, and the Emperor and Johann used the incident for propaganda. It was the catalyst that caused the Empire's downfall to be 'hurried' along.
— Creak.
The door to the waiting room opened, perhaps signaling the start of the intermission. Actors and staff poured out in a swarm.
Thump— Thump— Thump—
From the staff members pushing past, I sensed at least three more Eisenheim.
"..."
There were an unusually high number of Eisenheim here.
Likely in preparation for the terror attack.
I glared at them for a moment before turning back into the darkness.
* * *
At the Royal Empire Hotel in the Imperial Capital, under a blackened sky.
Professor Jean Pierre was lost in deep thought.
The manuscript paper on his desk was blank, save for a single name written in isolation.
[ Maximilian von Ebenholtz ]
In Jean Pierre's opinion, the man had immense academic value. He was a research subject as charming as he was dangerous. As a scholar who delved into individuals, this was the first time he had felt such a strong intuition that a person 'seemed destined to pierce through an entire era.'
It was a thrill, and it was also terrifying.
Maximilian's appearance was certainly as outstanding as the rumors suggested. He possessed a face that most Imperial nobles could never replicate, no matter how hard they tried.
His linguistic abilities were also beyond expectations.
It was nothing new for Imperial nobles to learn Progen while intoxicated by vanity. The Progen people actually mocked the Imperial nobility for such trends, but Maximilian's learning wasn't merely for the sake of vanity.
"Even in Zerpa…"
Maximilian's name had been there as well.
There, he had once again proven his military leadership. He had participated in the war as a knight of the 7th Guard Battalion on the Western Frontier—a newly formed battalion—and had broken through the Republican Faction's encirclement in just one month.
But what was most noteworthy was his 'restraint.'
He had clearly broken the enemy's siege. Most young commanders would have been intoxicated by that exhilaration and recklessly pushed deep into enemy territory, or popped champagne to flaunt their achievements to the capital.
Maximilian had not.
He remained cold even in the moment of victory, stayed composed even in the heart of enemy lines, and instead handed over the credit to Major General Schweitzer and Lieutenant Colonel Han.
"…And even in politics."
The various Western nations had gasped at the policies the Empire had recently enacted.
Foreign exchange controls, restrictions on profit remittance, and the radical concept of tax collection known as 'withholding tax.'
The real reason Jean Pierre had come all the way to the Empire was to personally analyze the diplomatic repercussions and the impact on the people's livelihoods that those bills would bring.
" Sigh …"
Jean Pierre exhaled a long trail of cigarette smoke.
'Only for the Empire.'
The words the man had uttered at the museum.
Jean Pierre chewed over the true meaning of those words.
"Does he truly… act for the Emperor?"
The current Emperor was a ruler with legitimacy that ranked among the highest in the Empire's thousand-year history. He called himself a god, and his conviction that "I am the State" was famous.
But would Maximilian think the same?
Maximilian was the son of a loyal subject, but he possessed talents and abilities as vast as—no, perhaps even more so than—Zebestian.
And there was an eternal truth.
A person's ambition grows to the size of their vessel.
Could Maximilian's will… truly be satisfied with just Ebenholtz?
"..."
Having organized his thoughts into an outline, Jean Pierre began to write sentences without hesitation.
A critical biography, or perhaps a warning to the current generation.
Whichever it was, Jean Pierre felt he would be preoccupied with the figure named Maximilian for quite some time.
* * *
Summer had arrived quickly at the Sentinel Knights headquarters. Built on terrain that received direct sunlight, window-type air conditioners from Lorenzo Technology were being distributed here in sequence.
"The opera terror…"
In the Knights' office, I was lost in thought.
Before a grand cause, emotions were nothing more than obstacles, and the existence of an individual was a trivial byproduct.
Yet the Eisenheim even utilized that. They were the most inhuman beings, consuming human emotions as a means to an end.
Therefore, to deal with them, one had to become a monster greater than they were.
"If…"
I was curious about the 'what ifs.'
What if, on that night, Justine doesn't meet Leonard at the opera house?
What if she meets someone else… for example, someone like me?
If the future shifts and she develops feelings for me.
"…Could I."
Could I become the Emperor?
…No, politics isn't that simple.
Nevertheless, lately, such thoughts kept crossing my mind.
Emperor.
If I were the Emperor instead of an Ebenholtz, could I have walked this hellish path a little more comfortably?
"..."
I shook my head to dispel the idle thoughts.
Knock, knock.
Right on time, my executive secretary Yukia entered following the knock. She held out a manila envelope.
"It's a sealed envelope from Sir Julian."
The polite speech felt quite good to hear. I took the envelope.
Yukia hesitated for a moment where she stood.
"Do you have something to say?"
When I asked, she hesitated briefly before speaking.
"…I visited the grave."
"..."
"My father… he looked at peace."
Yukia's voice was calm, but the corners of her eyes were slightly red.
I remained silent for a moment before asking back playfully.
"Did you eavesdrop again?"
She gave a small laugh and shook her head.
"Not anymore. But… I want to ask about that fishy smell."
Eisenheim. The identity of that rotten stench.
As she spoke, she laid down another document. It was a list of names of 'people who smell like fish' that she had identified at the Aternum Munitions Factory.
I tapped on it and replied.
"…Later."
"When?"
"When the time comes that you can fully trust my words. I'll tell you then."
Yukia didn't ask further. She quietly bowed her head and left.
I opened the documents Julian had sent.
On the very top page, a short sentence was written.
[ Everything is ready. ]
True to Julian's personality, he got straight to the point.
Below that, it continued that the new club in Berkina had become a city landmark in less than three months, and that Cartel executives were coming and going as if it were their own home.
Carlo had expanded his influence in an instant. It was thanks to setting up a new plantation with Julian's help.
"..."
Finally, it was time to make use of Ashton's corpse.
I stood up and headed toward Chiron's office.
Just as I was about to knock out of habit on the door on the upper floors of the Knights' headquarters—the one with the nameplate 'High Knight Chiron.'
"… Whew."
I paused for a moment. I took a deep breath. I intentionally disheveled my appearance. I loosened my tie and slightly mussed my neat hair.
An Ebenholtz maintains composure and grace. Therefore, this kind of effect might work even better.
Slam!
I threw the door open without knocking.
The administrative officers and zero-year knights in the lobby jumped up in surprise.
"M-Sir Maximilian?"
"W-What is the matter?"
Ignoring them, I went straight to Chiron's private office.
Sensing the commotion, Chiron opened his door first.
"Max. What's going on?"
I spoke as coldly as possible, acting out the expression of someone struggling to suppress their rage.
"I have something to tell you. Right now."
"..."
Chiron nodded gravely at my appearance.
"Everyone, leave us."
After dismissing all the officers, I went inside and spoke about the Cartel. The moment the name Ashton was mentioned, Chiron's complexion turned rigid…
…
We moved immediately. Instead of a regular passenger plane, we boarded a Kanilan-made military transport I had prepared. There were four of us in total. Chiron brought along two of his most trusted subordinates.
Vroooooom—
The transport reached the airspace over the Berkina border.
"Commencing descent."
At my signal, the ramp opened.
We threw ourselves into the dark sky. Chiron and his knights followed gracefully behind. They were accustomed to high-altitude jumps through training and reached the destination via low-altitude flight.
Whoooooosh—
In a deserted forest clearing inside the Berkina border.
Julian was standing there.
"You've come."
He let out a low sigh and pointed to a duffel bag at his feet.
"I managed to recover the body with great difficulty."
"..."
The zipper was halfway open. Through the gap, the state of the horribly mutilated Ashton—Egillon—was visible.
Chiron's face turned stone-cold. He, too, would know Egillon. They were peers in the Sentinels.
"Egillon. He was an old friend."
Julian said in a sunken tone.
"He left the Sentinels and was rolling around in this gutter for the peace of the Empire. And yet, he ended up like this."
I exhaled and closed my eyes. Moonlight mana wavered around my body like a haze.
I spoke slowly.
"…A knight has died."
I put suppressed rage and cold killing intent into my expression.
"A man who was a member of the Sentinels, killed by mere gutter rats who sell drugs."
Grit. Chiron and his subordinates clenched their fists. The death of a comrade, especially a murder involving such torture, was the greatest insult to a knight.
"..."
I looked up at the night sky. Julian's acting in the meantime was perfect. His sorrowful appearance looked natural.
Or perhaps, he truly was grieving.
The five of us knights stood by the body in silence for a long time.
Whoooooosh—
A cold night wind brushed through the forest.
The Cartel had dared to touch a knight.
Now, they would pay a fitting price—no.
They would pay far more than that.
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