Chapter 115: The Meaning of Politics Rumble.
The knights leaped from the transport ship, streaking through Berkina's airspace before landing softly at their respective target points.
Tap.
The moment their feet touched the pavement, they pressed a button to release their wingsuits. Whirrr. The suits collapsed like fabric, folding neatly against their backs.
There was no time to marvel at the new technology. They moved along their pre-planned routes, infiltrating the hideouts of the cartel capos.
Destination reached.
Though many mercenaries stood guard, the knights required no hand signals.
Slash! Slice!
They lunged almost simultaneously, severing throats in a silent, synchronized motion.
They simply pushed deeper into the shadows...
*
Thud!
Capo Costa snapped his eyes open at the dull sound echoing from outside.
"...?"
He rubbed his face while checking the clock. It was 3:00 AM.
"...What the hell?"
In a spacious room draped with heavy red velvet, Costa sat up in bed.
He loosely threw on a robe and ran a hand through his messy, curly hair. An inexplicable chill shivered down his spine.
"Mmm...?"
The women beside him stirred awake, but Costa pushed their faces back down with an annoyed gesture.
"Go back to sleep."
Still half-exposed, he channeled his mana. The Iron Boar. True to his nickname, leaden mana swirled around his body, hardening his skin.
"..."
With his hand raised like a sharp blade, he kicked the door open.
Bang!
The hallway was silent.
There was no one there.
No guards, no subordinates.
"What's going on...?"
The moment Costa tilted his head and started to turn back—
An opaque silhouette flickered in the darkness.
Shink—!
A flash of light erupted.
"!"
Costa's eyes froze, wide with shock. His head was severed clean from his shoulders. Thud, thud, thud. The ownerless head tumbled down the stairs.
"Boar slaughter complete."
The knight turned away, leaving the corpse behind. There was no need to take the head as a trophy, nor any reason to leave a mark.
Death was the only price for those who dared to touch a knight of the Empire.
*
A dark, hidden room in the heart of Berkina.
In the VVIP room of a lavish casino, chips and cash were piled high on the table.
"Phew..."
Kunta, a cartel capo, squinted at his cards with bloodshot eyes.
It was a good hand.
To hide his expression, he hunched his face low like a mole.
"...All in."
He pushed all his chips forward, but his opponent folded without hesitation.
"Ugh. I'm done for. The cards just aren't coming to me."
"..."
A vein throbbed in Kunta's forehead. Blood seeped from his tightly bitten lip.
"...Oh, and I'm sorry. I have to head out now."
To make matters worse, this loser—this guy who should have just crawled away and died—was actually standing up to leave.
The game wasn't even over.
I had a full house!
"Have fun, everyone."
"Where do you think you're going? We're just getting started," Kunta growled, slamming his cards down.
"Oh, come on... my son is waiting. It's his birthday today."
"So what? Who gives a fuck when he was born?"
"Come on now~ I've lost all my money, I barely have anything left. Why are you doing this? I'm broke."
Kunta glanced at him. The bag that had been full of chips was now less than half full.
"Give me a break."
The man gave a weak laugh and backed away. Kunta glared at him with bloodshot eyes.
"You leave now, and you're dead. I'll hang you in the marketplace like a pair of old shoes."
"It really is my son's birthday. If I leave now, I might just make it. I'll stay longer next time. I promise. Truly! I'm sorry!"
Offering pathetic excuses and bowing ninety degrees, the man scurried out.
"..."
Kunta stared at the door for a long time. He popped a cigarette into his mouth.
Crunch. Crunch.
He chewed the whole thing and gave a small nod of his chin.
"Hey. Kill that bastard for real. Cut his son's throat, too."
"Yes, sir."
The mercenaries followed the man without hesitation.
"Son of a bitch."
Kunta picked up his cards again.
"Fine, let's do this. Deal."
Just as the dealer was about to shuffle—
Creeeeak.
The door opened again.
"Who the hell is ruining the mood—"
Splurt!
Instead of a tongue, a blade erupted from Kunta's mouth. His face, sliced in two, fell onto the table.
"What the—"
Before the mercenaries could even grab their weapons, knights surged through the door. They ran along the walls and stepped off the ceiling, decapitating their enemies.
Slice! Snick!
It was a refined slaughter, precisely selecting and cutting down only the targets while sparing the civilians.
The enemies inside were wiped out in an instant.
"...Eagle. Mission complete."
Chiron spoke as he flicked the blood off his sword.
*
The dawn was tinged with deep indigo.
Pellier, the 'Capo Dei Capi'—the boss of bosses—opened his eyes.
He was different from the other capos. He wasn't negligent like Costa, nor was he addicted to vice like Kunta.
Pellier's hideout was located at the highest point of the city, a building perched atop a cliff.
The interior was designed like a maze. Magic alarms were set everywhere. Traps lurked in every hallway.
It was a fortress that perfectly reflected his paranoid nature.
However, Pellier did not prefer the top floor of this fortress. While looking down from a height always felt good, it was disadvantageous in the event of an assassination attempt.
"Hmm."
Pellier stepped out onto the terrace of the middle floor. Below him, the entire cityscape of Berkina unfolded at a glance. A city where orange lights and hot darkness mingled.
In the distance, the brilliant lights of a new club shone through.
"I should take that one."
There was only one reason. Because he was Pellier. Because in this city of Berkina, whatever he wanted had to become his.
"Heh."
Pellier gave a short laugh and turned back. He walked into the living room and opened a cabinet.
Step.
Suddenly, he sensed a presence. It was his personal bodyguard—a loyalist and former Imperial Knight.
"...Are you not sleeping yet?" the guard asked.
"I can't seem to drift off."
Pellier raised an eyebrow and swirled his whiskey glass. The ice clinked clearly.
"Want a drink?"
"I'm fine."
Pellier pouted his lips.
"You're allowed to, you know. Well, get some rest."
"Yes, sir."
The mercenary simply smiled and withdrew. Pellier stepped back onto the terrace and raised his glass. Looking out at the atmosphere of Berkina, he murmured distantly.
...My world.
Mine.
Just as he took a sip of whiskey, lost in sentiment—
————.
A bright light approached from across the night sky.
Was it a meteor... cutting across the horizon?
A silver light moved silently, leaving a short trail behind it.
"..."
Pellier watched its flow blankly for a moment.
Perhaps it was an omen. It felt like a blessing guarding his future.
It truly felt that way.
Soon, he would kill Costa and Kunta and seize Berkina for himself. He would become the King of Berkina, growing so powerful that even the Empire wouldn't dare look down on him...
* * *
A comet.
From a distance, it looked as if it would graze the sky above, but it suddenly came to a dead halt in mid-air.
That alone was mysterious, but then its trajectory snapped unnaturally.
The direction it was heading—
Was here.
It was coming for him.
"...?"
In an instant, Pellier's retinas were dyed silver.
A pure white longsword descended from the heavens.
It was the final scene of his life.
—————.
The moonlight silently cleaved the terrace. An elegant sword strike carved a scar into the hideout's building.
Craaaaash! The sound of splintering debris caught up a moment later, and simultaneously, Pellier's head flew into the air.
Fwoosh...
As the moonlight scattered, Maximilian landed atop Pellier's corpse.
He exhaled softly and whispered.
"Infiltration complete."
* * *
The three capos of the Parmano Cartel, the mercenaries they hired, and hundreds of others—including the second-in-command and various executives—were all decapitated in just six hours. The withdrawal operation began before the day was even out.
"What's the haul?"
Chiron asked under a tree in the drizzling rain, outside an airfield in the Eastern Empire.
"Certain."
I held up the Kanilan-made crystal chip recovered from Pellier's safe. Records of where the drug trafficking money flowed, which corporations it went to, and who received the tributes—everything would be condensed inside this small chip.
"Well, some might call him a 'Golden Goblin.'"
Unlike the others who kept haphazard records, Pellier's ledgers were meticulous.
He truly was the boss of bosses.
"Can you track it?"
"Yes. My administrative officer is quite capable. However, to decode this properly, I think we'll have to go to Kanilan. The properties of mana are different there, so it's difficult to restore it smoothly within the Empire."
There are certain high-tech products that can only be used in Kanilan. This is because the wavelength and density of mana vary by region.
The North and Kanilan, in particular, have exceptionally unique mana environments.
"All the useful information will come out."
Chiron nodded with satisfaction.
"Let's go."
"Yes."
We entered the airfield together. About a dozen knights were gathered inside. The remaining units would likely return safely soon.
This operation had used expensive intelligence to pinpoint the enemy's location and status from the start; therefore, the knights only had to swing their swords.
They didn't fight to win; they fought having already won.
"Um, I have a question."
At the airfield, the rookie Lois raised his hand hesitantly.
"This wingsuit... is it really ours to keep? We don't have to return it?"
Seeing the senior knight Reynel clearing his throat next to him, it seemed this was his inquiry.
I nodded. Looking around at the other knights, I added, "You can consider the wingsuits a reward for those of you who participated in this operation."
Reynel, a third-year, nudged Lois in the ribs again.
"If, by any chance, sir... I'm sorry, but if one were to buy this separately—"
"It would cost at least two million."
A small look of surprise crossed the knights' faces. It was indeed a piece of cutting-edge equipment. For someone who knew how to perform a proper descent, it was a strategic asset that could amplify their combat power three or four times over.
Thud-thud-thud-thud—
Right on time, the vibration of a returning transport ship rolled in. Chiron and I went out to meet them.
"Is Julian taking over the rest?"
"Yes."
"Does Julian know our intent?" Chiron asked.
I remained silent for a moment.
Julian.
I still couldn't fully read him. He always seemed to be one step ahead of me, as if he could see through my every move.
But just as I didn't know him, he likely didn't know exactly who I was either.
What future I had seen, what grand cause I harbored. And how firm my faith was in achieving it...
"Yes. He likely does," I said, watching the transport ship land.
"Now, we simply take what should be ours."
* * *
[Sentinel's Hidden Hero Meets a Tragic End]
[Imperial Knight Infiltrating Drug Cartel Dies After Torture]
[The Atrocities of the Berkina Cartel...]
A scoop from the Gemion Daily struck the entire Empire. Photos of the knight's body, brutally mutilated by the cartel, were published with partial blurring.
Imperial society was consumed by rage, and Alberich, the Knight Commander of Sentinel, issued an unprecedented statement of mourning, anger, and regret.
Johann Goetze also contributed his voice during his doctoral studies.
—「Editorial: The Sacrifice of Pure Blood, and the Wrath of Aran」—
...We have all seen how the Empire's most noble son perished at the hands of lowly beasts. We have seen the wounds carved into the body of one who devoted himself to us. It is a nail driven into the heart of the Empire, an insult to all our souls...
The blood shed by a single knight must not be in vain. What was he trying to protect? He sought to shield our Aranian brothers and sisters, our pure spirit, from the poison spread by the drug cartels across the border...
* * *
Timed perfectly with this, news broke that the core leaders of the cartel had been decapitated overnight.
[Sentinel, Representing Imperial Knights, Decimates Berkina Cartel Stronghold]
[High-Ranking Sentinel Knight Chiron: "A Top-Secret Operation Was Already Underway"]
[The Sword of the Empire Purges the Den of Savagery!]
[The Dream Road, a Dream Unfulfilled in One Knight's Life...]
Operation: Dream Road. All other details were top secret, but the retaliation had been absolute.
Naturally, the Berkina government protested vehemently. Not just them, but the entire Eastern Union seethed with hostility toward the Empire.
However, since the cartel had struck an Imperial Knight first and there were zero civilian casualties, Berkina merely deployed troops to the border without escalating to armed conflict.
Instead, the 'Carlo Cartel' quickly moved in to fill the vacuum left by the Parmano and other minor cartels. They began spreading massive bribes to local officials to dampen the negative public opinion against the Empire.
And—one morning.
On the desk of Goebel, the Captain of the Imperial Guard, who had arrived at his office as usual...
A document stamped with a red seal was delivered.
"...Hmm?"
Captain Goebel hadn't been worried about this incident at all.
The cartel had nothing to do with him. At least, not on the surface.
His money laundering had been that perfect, and he was confident that even if someone knew, no one would be bold enough to drag him into it. There were hundreds, thousands of scapegoats ready to be cut off in his place.
However, the document Goebel looked at today as he sat in his chair was...
———「SUMMONS」———
To: Goebel von Rosenberg From: Imperial Sentinel Knights This Knight Order has captured illegal financial flows based on secret ledgers and various other records obtained during the recent operation to suppress the Berkina Cartel...
Accordingly, you are hereby summoned as a key witness regarding allegations of 'Funding Anti-State Organizations and Bribery.' Please report to the Sentinel Knights Headquarters by October 30th at 15:00.
Be advised that failure to comply may result in the issuance of a forced subpoena based on the inherent authority of the Knight Order.
* * *
Daring sentences, summoning the Captain of the Emperor's own Guard.
Goebel toyed with his monocle before removing his hat.
"..."
After reading the entire text again in silence, he pressed his fingers to his temples.
At the very bottom.
He looked at the name of the one who had written it.
[ Maximilian Albrecht von Ebenholtz ]
"Maximilian..."
As he whispered the name softly,
"Hah."
An involuntary, hollow laugh escaped his lips.
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