Chapter 120: The Meaning of Politics (6) ── November 1st. The Knights' Grand Conference Room.
"This painting itself is a forgery."
The verdict of forgery came down today, November 1st. But let's turn back the clock a little further.
Before Operation 'Dream Road' was completed, and before the cartel was crushed and their ledgers seized.
Even before the members of the Imperial Guard, panicked by the sudden scandal of accepting drug money, abandoned their estates to hold frantic strategy meetings here and there.
I had mobilized Schatz and my subordinates to secure Goebel's painting. I had a forgery made in advance and swapped them out.
So that I could kill Goebel whenever I desired.
I had told Chiron clearly:
I had 'already' secured the evidence to kill Goebel.
However, the fact that even Pellier's inscription was forged was, to be honest, an accident.
For the sake of secrecy and perfection, I had hired forgers who did not know the Imperial language and instructed them to replicate the entire piece, inside and out, exactly as it was.
They were truly faithful; they even copied the sentence Pellier had etched into the canvas, likely mistaking it for the artist's signature.
"······."
Therefore, the expressionless look I gave Adria now was simply one of surprise.
It was unexpected.
Perhaps I had overestimated my own information—the unfair, asymmetric advantage of regression.
Independent of my intentions, Adria had conducted her own investigation and reached the 'painting.' Her ability to deduce the truth from a void far exceeded my expectations.
The only problem was that she lacked the absolute time required to vet the entire matter.
······Be humble, Maximilian.
From the beginning, all of these people were superior to you.
The talents of the Empire who brought the Empire to its knees—people the weak idiot I was before my regression wouldn't have even dared to look at.
"If the painting itself is a forgery..."
At someone's words, everyone turned toward the speaker.
It was Kents Bertem.
"Then it lacks evidentiary value. There's no way to know if someone fabricated the painting and planted it there."
Adria quietly lowered her head.
Her efforts to protect Anton had, ironically, shortened her own lifespan. It was because Adria's competence had overlapped with my operation.
Perhaps the world really does run on luck.
── November 1st, 13:00
At 1:00 PM that day.
Ultimately, Goebel's detention was lifted due to lack of evidence, and we each returned to our respective offices.
* * *
── Sssssss.
Inside the luxury vehicle moving quietly and smoothly, Goebel watched the scenery of the Empire passing by the window and let out a hollow laugh.
"So it was a fake."
A mysterious smile spread across his face, and an indescribable emotion swelled within him.
The colors of the scenery outside the window were brilliant. The fading sunset looked like the bleeding colors of an oil painting.
Had the ambiguity of dusk always been this beautiful?
"It's more than a fake; it's a conspiracy! A frame-up!"
Brigadier General Alfred, sitting beside him, was fuming with rage.
"It was a ploy to lock you up by forging the cartel's handwriting! How dare those Sentinel bastards!"
Of course, that likely wasn't the case. It was something that would have been easily discovered if an appraiser were brought in.
That clever bastard Pellier probably bribed the art auction to pull such a stunt just to save his own money.
But thanks to him, I survived this time.
"We cannot just sit still! First, tear up that ledger. Now is the time for us to make demands!"
Maximilian's words about 'having to give up a finger' no longer applied.
On the contrary, we now had something to gain.
"Ha······ ridiculous."
"Yes! It is truly ridiculous and lamentable!"
The dead man saved me······ Goebel closed his eyes, feeling an inexplicable surge of emotion.
Screech.
The car stopped. It was Kents Bertem's estate.
As Goebel stepped out, Kents, who had been waiting in the garden, approached with open arms.
"Goebel! My friend."
"Kents, it's all thanks to you."
The two men laughed and embraced. Despite the age gap, they were bound by the ties of power and treated each other without formality.
"Come in. I've prepared a banquet to celebrate your safe return."
They entered the estate's banquet hall together.
The tables were laden with delicacies and wines aged for decades.
Clap, clap, clap, clap──.
They applauded as they welcomed the protagonist, Goebel, clinking glasses to celebrate their victory.
Smiles, anger, joy, annoyance, relief, gratitude······ all sorts of turbulent emotions splattered like saliva.
"Kents. It wouldn't be a bad idea to use this opportunity to prepare to cut off Sentinel's limbs entirely."
Kents replied casually as he gulped down his wine.
"I've already prepared a letter of protest to send to them."
Goebel listened to Kents's plan with a flushed face.
"Once we start swaying public opinion with the media, they won't be able to avoid taking responsibility for falsely detaining the Commander of the Imperial Guard."
Truly music to my ears. Goebel allowed a quiet smile to play on his lips.
"I like the sound of that very much."
Emptying his glass, he spoke with a look of utter contempt.
"And this time, I will..."
Suddenly, a certain face flashed before his eyes. Goebel belatedly recalled the anger he had briefly set aside.
"Maximilian. I'm thinking of summoning that arrogant knight to the Imperial Guard."
Kents's eyes widened at his words. The other members of the Imperial Guard reacted similarly.
But soon, they all clapped, agreeing it was the right decision, and smiled as they spat out harsh words about Maximilian.
Indeed── it was nothing but a delight.
* * *
── November 2nd, 15:00
The following day. A meeting was held at the Knights' Round Table. I attended as a key operative of Operation 'Dream Road.'
Since Vice Commander Anton himself presided over the meeting, the atmosphere was incredibly heavy.
"Adria."
Chiron growled with intense hostility. I hadn't told him everything yet.
You have to deceive your allies to deceive your enemies. In fact, Chiron was putting on a performance that transcended mere acting.
"······Look closely at what you've done. Your pathetic ambition has tarnished the cause."
Adria said nothing. Her stance was that she had no excuse, even if she had ten mouths.
However, it was too great a blunder. The power of detention—the greatest risk a knight carries—had failed, providing the Imperial Guard with a pretext for a counterattack.
"This isn't a problem that can be solved just by you resigning."
Chiron gritted his teeth.
"Kents Bertem and the Imperial Guard have already formally requested a reduction in the Knights' authority. The Imperial Guard has united over this incident."
A reduction in the Knights' authority. Or another overseer to watch over the Knights.
The Kandel family and Grossman, the other pillars of the Imperial Guard, were showing signs of agreeing to such nonsense.
It was something that must never happen.
"Is suicide your hobby?"
Chiron asked, glaring at Adria.
"······."
Adria did not answer.
Chiron tossed a ballpoint pen onto the desk.
"I asked if it was your hobby."
Then he picked up the pen of the person next to him and tossed it too.
Tap.
He picked up another from somewhere and tossed it again.
Tap.
The knights in the conference room followed the movement of the pens with their eyes.
"Suicide. Is it your hobby?"
Tap.
Where do these pens keep coming from?
Tap.
It seemed like a childish prank, but the anger was real. People become this petty when they are truly enraged.
Tap.
He tossed another pen.
Suddenly, I recalled a magazine novel I had secretly read as a child.
Adria and Chiron. If their timing had been right, could they have had a good relationship?
"Is it your hobby?"
When there was still no answer.
"I'm asking you──!"
Chiron slammed the desk and roared. He had every right to be angry. It was like someone had thrown ashes onto a perfectly cooked meal.
Adria spoke in a low voice.
"As a High Knight, I will take full responsibility."
"How the hell are you going to take responsi—"
"Quiet."
Anton intervened in a low tone.
"It has already happened. Cleaning up comes first."
Suddenly, Anton's gaze shifted toward me.
"Maximilian. Goebel has just requested a conversation with you. He says he wants to speak with you directly at the Imperial Guard Headquarters."
A conversation. It was effectively a summons.
It seemed he wanted to bring me to the Imperial Guard to humiliate me, but this was actually what I had been waiting for.
"Yes. I understand. I'll leave right away."
I replied calmly and stood up. The other knights seemed surprised by my ready compliance.
"Before you go."
Chiron caught me.
"Maximilian, what are your thoughts? Regarding this situation."
I was silent for a moment, but soon looked back and forth between Adria and Chiron before answering.
"I don't believe it is anyone's fault."
It was a gesture telling them to knock it off. Internal division only benefits the enemy.
"I'll take my leave then."
After a short bow, I left the conference room.
Now, it was time to meet Goebel.
* * *
Imperial Guard 1st Corps Command.
I was walking down its long corridor with a willing stride. The looks the Imperial Guard members gave me were quite varied. Some saluted reluctantly, some simply ignored me as they passed, and others glanced at me while hiding smirks, as if the rumors had already spread.
"Ah. Sir Maximilian."
As I stood before Goebel's office to knock, an aide stopped me.
"Please wait a moment. He hasn't finished his personal schedule yet."
The aide's rank was Major.
A mere Major was blocking my path, but that was fine.
"Very well."
I decided to wait willingly.
I sat on a chair in the hallway and quietly killed time.
Tick── Tock──
The clocks hanging in the headquarters were irritating.
Tick── Tock──
I could hear the sound even with my eyes closed.
Tick── Tock──
A rhythm that was regular for everyone else, but not at all regular for me.
Tick── Tock──
Not time itself, but merely the movement of gears imitating time.
Tick──
By the time sixty minutes had passed beyond the appointed time.
Screech.
Only then did the door open.
"One moment."
But the aide did not let me in immediately; he went inside first to ask for Goebel's intent.
Another ten minutes passed like that.
An hour and ten minutes were pointlessly consumed.
"Please come in, Sir Maximilian."
I entered under the aide's guidance. Goebel greeted me with an incredibly arrogant posture.
"Mmm. Sit."
He gestured vaguely toward the front. I sat there. Goebel seemed to think our relationship had now been reversed, and he wore a look of feigned pity.
"······It's a shame."
A faint smile hung on his lips.
"Lord Bertem is very angry right now. As for me, well, I'm trying to understand your youthful vigor, but..."
He crossed his legs in front of me. He must have been dwelling on this.
"Well, my conditions are simple. Cancel the Knight Court's disposition for all Imperial Guard members. And issue an official statement of apology."
I stared at him intently.
"Ah, there's no need to use your name specifically. Since it was that crazy knight Adria who did it, an apology from Sentinel will suffice."
Goebel bit into a cigar and spread his hands.
"What do you think? It seems like an extremely reasonable condition."
Without a word, I leaned back deep into the chair, adjusted my disheveled uniform, and crossed my legs.
"······."
Goebel's complexion stiffened at my attitude.
I murmured to him as if letting out a sigh.
"You still don't know, do you?"
"······I think you're the one who doesn't know."
Flick, sizzle. Goebel lit his cigar.
"Do you not realize the gravity of the current situation? We're in a position where the knights' power of detention might be abolished."
Smoke rose thickly, and his voice gradually grew louder.
"They call knights the overseers of the Empire, but who exactly oversees those overseers? Discussions are underway in the Imperial Palace to establish an external audit authority over the Knights."
He rattled off several bills. They were the worst kind of laws, prepared in advance to be proposed if the Imperial Guard ever gained the upper hand.
"Then, go and stop it immediately."
"······What?"
Goebel's brow furrowed. He glared at me for a moment, let out a hollow laugh, and then took off his monocle.
"Maximilian von Ebenholtz."
Goebel dared to utter my name directly.
"You're a young man who lacks both maturity and manners. I gave you a pass because you're Zebestian's son, but you don't know when to stop climbing?"
The man finally showed blatant anger. It was the reaction I had wanted—the one I had practically induced.
"Commander Goebel. You are the one who lacks manners."
"······."
Goebel squeezed his eyes shut. He took a deep breath to suppress his rage. He was, at the very least, not a man easily swept away by emotion.
"Haaa······."
He let out a sigh and shook his head.
"······I hope you accept these conditions. In the system of our Empire, a balance of power must still be maintained. It means 'that place' must not collapse so quickly."
He threw back the words I had said to him in the interrogation room, and I clicked my tongue, finding him truly pathetic.
"You really don't know."
I pulled a piece of paper from my breast pocket and handed it to him.
"······What is this now?"
Just as Goebel was about to toss it away in annoyance.
"It is the location where the original painting you received from Pellier is being stored."
In an instant, his hand froze.
I calmed my own body.
"Let me ask you. Do you really think Pellier would have presented you with a fake? He even planted evidence in case of your betrayal; would he really gift you a forgery?"
Goebel's pupils shook violently.
"If you thought so, Commander, then your tension has relaxed too much, causing a temporary decline in your cognitive abilities."
I remained composed and silent. Goebel stared at me blankly.
The one who speaks first is the one who is desperate.
"······What does that mean?"
Naturally, it was Goebel.
"I made it."
"What······?"
His pupils dilated in shock, and I continued in a bitter tone.
"The forgery. I had it made and hung it there."
Goebel looked down at the paper.
The location was Kronen Schatzinsel. An art storage manifest.
"If you wish, we can go to Kanilan and I will show you the original. Oh, do you know what the signature on the original is? It is a blood-oath written with Pellier's own blood and mana. It is impossible to forge, and its effectiveness as legal evidence is absolute."
The wrinkles on Goebel's face deepened. He seemed to be asking:
Why?
"It was a gesture of respect and the price of a deal. Because I knew a knight like Adria would inevitably appear."
Actually, I hadn't known.
"I intended to tell you everything once the incident was over. However, Adria discovered it much sooner than expected."
Even so, it didn't matter. Politics, in a broad sense, is not much different from solving a puzzle.
If a situation occurs, I simply adjust my position to fit the already broken shape.
"But, Goebel, you are truly······."
I let out a hollow laugh.
"Disappointing."
"······."
Goebel had been silent this whole time. It was as if he had been struck by temporary aphasia.
── Tick.
I looked at Goebel's desk clock.
"One hour and forty minutes. No, including the 140 minutes for the round trip, a total of four hours. Commander, you have wasted four hours of my time."
I slowly rose from my seat and added coldly as I looked down at him.
"If you want to compensate me, you'll have to move quickly."
Goebel stared up at me vacantly. He just sat there.
"What are you doing?"
I said to him as he continued to hesitate.
"You need to move."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Read 41 more chapters ahead on NovelDex!
https://noveldex.io/series/semi-coercive-imperialist
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━