Chapter 105: What Literature Is (2) In Zerpa, the Durkon Legion stationed along the Alcantara Road protected the Empire's supply convoys.
On the surface, it was a tedious assignment. For a unit famous for being elite, it could have been a source of frustration.
Instead, Maximilian's "gratuities" smoothed the process.
For the common soldiers of the Durkon Legion, there were packages filled with high-end refreshments, snacks, and daily necessities; for the officers, there were envelopes of bonus pay.
Schweitzer was a man without greed, but his subordinates were a different story.
"Stay alert! Anyone who hesitates with the countersign gets shot on the spot!"
The effect was immediate. Even by Imperial standards, the Durkon Legion was exceptionally disciplined, and they maintained their watch like an iron wall.
Meanwhile, Lieutenant Colonel Han received the Imperial supply convoy within the capital.
Bang—! Boom—!
The supply train entered the capital with a flourish, even firing ceremonial salutes into the air. This had been Maximilian's—or more accurately, Johann's—idea.
"We will handle the rationing," Lieutenant Colonel Han informed the Royalist generals.
The generals didn't protest much, but one couldn't afford to be careless. They would undoubtedly be looking for any loophole to siphon off goods for themselves.
"Your Highness. This is the food that will be distributed to the civilians."
Later, Han personally showed the list of supplies to Crown Prince Alonso.
"...Is this truly what is being distributed?" Crown Prince Alonso asked, his dry lips trembling slightly.
"Yes. It will be distributed to the civilians exactly as listed."
"Ha... Haha."
Alonso let out a hollow laugh, resting a hand on his forehead.
Lieutenant Colonel Han whispered softly, "Sir Maximilian went to great lengths to prepare this for Your Highness."
"I know. I am well aware. As expected of Sir Maximilian..."
The Crown Prince used a respectful title for the knight, his voice filled with genuine esteem. Han did not bother to correct the form of address.
"...The people will be overjoyed. They might even choke on their food from the shock."
Wartime rations are typically divided into grades.
Grade 1 is for core personnel, including laborers performing heavy manual labor, combat soldiers, and mechanics: a protein-heavy diet including bread, meat, soup, and pepper.
Grade 2 is for light laborers and office workers: bread, soup, and grains like potatoes.
Grade 3 is for general citizens, clerks, and shopkeepers: bread and soup.
Grade 4 is for non-laborers, the elderly, the infirm, and the homeless: a single loaf of bread.
Compared to the rations Zerpa had provided until now, this menu was of such high quality that the Crown Prince couldn't help but be impressed.
"For the distribution, we wish to access Zerpa's administrative registers and bring them under our control. Do we have your permission?"
"Ah, of course."
They would issue ration cards according to the names registered in Zerpa's administration and carry out the distribution.
However, a problem remained: the enemies within, the corrupt generals of the monarchy.
As for the plan to 'deal' with them...
Maximilian himself might step forward again in the future.
"Truly, this is a beautiful thing."
Regardless, the Crown Prince was moved.
Once the distribution began, the soldiers of Zerpa and the general public would likely feel the same way.
"By the way, Your Highness, you speak the Imperial language as fluently as a native Aranian," Lieutenant Colonel Han remarked with a faint smile.
The Crown Prince nodded gently.
"I spent time in the Empire when I was young. For royalty, the Imperial language is a basic requirement."
"In that case."
Han pulled a book from his coat and handed it over.
It was a book with a black cover and the title engraved in gold leaf.
"Would you like to read this? It's a book that came with the supplies from the Imperial center."
The supply crates from the Empire contained several books, but this particular volume had received an especially positive response from the soldiers.
"Baltaras...?"
The Crown Prince ran his fingers over the luxurious cover and opened the first page.
* * *
...A craze was spreading through the heart of the Empire.
It was centered around a single book titled Baltaras.
"Ha... This is driving me crazy."
On a quiet afternoon.
Ashton, a former Sentinel who had retired and was now working as a private knight, was savoring the book's sentences line by line, overcome with emotion.
"How could a book like this come out of the capital...?"
It seemed like a typical love story, but it was anything but.
In fact, it was more poignant and realistic than any romance he had ever read.
Genius, it seemed, was indifferent to censorship.
Or rather, honestly, it was surprising that such a book had passed censorship at all.
"Hey! Egillon!"
Someone called out to him. Ashton sighed and closed the book.
He stood up sluggishly and looked toward the voice.
"Egillon! How's the situation at the farm?!"
This was the southeastern border of the Empire. It was a massive plantation owned by the Parmano Cartel, where they cultivated Black Poppies—the primary raw material for the drug 'Arquia.'
"Hey! Egillon! I asked if anything happened!"
A cartel executive shouted from atop a jeep.
The knight Ashton—currently the cartel's deep-cover agent 'Egillon'—gestured toward the farm with his chin.
"You can see for yourself. It's quiet."
"Right. Let's swap out then!"
The southeastern border was a region where the language of the eastern nation, 'Berkina,' bled into the local dialect. They exchanged jokes in a rough tone as they piled out of the jeep.
They were the cartel's armed guards.
They weren't ordinary thugs. This cartel employed mercenaries who were skilled with both guns and swords, some possessing abilities exceeding those of active-duty knights.
"Good luck with the shift."
"Yeah. Good work, you son of a bitch Egillon."
"Fuck off."
Ashton raised his middle finger as he walked away from the farm.
The cartel executives and defense personnel picked up their swords and rifles.
As the sun set, the farm was gradually swallowed by pitch-black darkness.
That silent, peaceful air...
Bang!
...was shattered in an instant.
Flames erupted in tandem with the gunshot.
Clang—! Shing—! Rat-tat-tat!
The sharp ring of clashing steel.
"You motherfucker—! Kill him—! Ki— gah, ack, aaaaagh—!"
Blood splattered, and horrific screams erupted.
Slash. Squelch—.
Blades carved through flesh. Severed body parts rolled across the ground.
Schlick—.
As the chaos slowly subsided and the area returned to silence.
Whoosh—!
A wildfire began to blaze.
The hundreds of thousands of acres of the plantation—the raw materials for the drugs—were reduced to ash by the red flames...
Crunch.
A knight's combat boots stepped onto the road. A man with blond hair and golden eyes stood before the flickering inferno. The moonlight illuminated his sharp jawline.
He toyed with his now-rough stubble and looked up at the night sky.
"Ah~ Sir Julian!"
The Director of the Drug Enforcement Bureau for the southeastern Empire came running over in a hurry.
"Excellent work, sir."
Julian nodded silently.
It was a raid on a drug plantation. An operation to wipe out the Black Poppies used for the high-purity drug 'Arquia.'
"Wow. How much is all this worth? Must be tens of millions of dollars, right?"
The director muttered trivialities, but Julian remained lost in thought.
Drugs make one forget the pain of living.
Is it because life is so painful that people seek out drugs?
If so, is the problem the person seeking the drugs, the person making them, or the society that breaks people down?
Either way, there was no clear answer.
"By the way... Sir Knight. Have you read this book?"
The director pulled a book from his coat.
Baltaras.
"It's a total sensation lately, a complete craze. My daughter kept pestering me to read it, so I did, and it's incredibly good. But that bastard Dike... Ah. Just in case you haven't read it—"
Julian pulled the same book from his own coat.
"Oh, of course."
"Reading is a hobby of mine. And you're right, Dike is a bastard."
"Ahaha~ I knew it. As expected of you, sir. There's no way someone like you wouldn't have read such a masterpiece."
"I think I might even know who the model for Baltaras is."
"Eh? A model? Ah~ Is it you, sir?"
The director suddenly started talking nonsense. Julian's brow furrowed slightly.
"Ah, is it not? Actually, while reading it, I kept thinking of you, Sir Julian."
"Baltaras isn't as jaded as I am."
There was only one person who fit the description of Baltaras perfectly.
"Just make sure the cleanup is handled properly."
"Ah, yes. Leave it to me. Actually, there's nothing left to clean up. It's all been burned to the ground."
Julian turned away and opened the book. Hidden on the seventeenth page was a coded message left by Ashton.
This operation had been a collaboration between Ashton and Julian.
The two were old comrades-in-arms who had worked on the same investigations for a long time.
To make the Empire a better place, to eliminate the drug cartels that were a blight on the nation...
Julian gripped Baltaras tightly as he looked back at the burning farm.
"..."
But which way was truly 'better'?
He still hadn't found the answer.
* * *
Two weeks after the release of Baltaras.
The novel had caused a massive stir throughout the Empire. Young noble ladies fell for the tragic protagonist, Baltaras, while corrupt nobles 'pretended' to be lost in deep thought.
Surprisingly, it seemed that not a single person thought of themselves as 'Dike,' the enemy of Baltaras.
However, Baltaras contained more than just entertainment; it carried a message of propaganda.
Beyond the Aranian superiority woven throughout the novel, although Baltaras was betrayed by Imperial nobles, the force that ultimately killed him was the barbarians of the Eastern Front.
It was Johann's first work, serving simultaneously as literature, art, and propaganda.
So, what impact could this piece of literature have on the state of the world?
It was impossible to predict yet.
One shouldn't have high expectations.
I simply hoped it would be helpful for the laws I intended to propose in the future.
"Hmm."
One afternoon.
Arriving at the knight order's office a bit late, I picked up the newspaper as usual.
[A Noble Named 'Baltaras' Sweeps the Empire.]
[A Non-Existent Noble Wanders the Empire...]
While I was happily scanning the headlines.
Knock, knock— Clack!
The door opened before the knocking even finished.
It was Julian.
It was a highly unusual, impulsive visit, quite unlike him.
"Sir Julian. What brings you here?"
Instead of answering, Julian sat in the chair opposite me.
"...Max."
"Yes."
"As a knight, I would like to formally request your support."
Julian was asking me for help.
This was quite surprising.
"Hmm..."
I first calculated the timing in my head.
The crisis that would likely befall Julian around this time. The cases he had been personally pursuing.
—The Parmano Cartel.
The Empire's worst and largest drug organization, rampant in the borderlands of the southeast where law and order did not reach.
"...Are you familiar with Parmano?"
"The cartel."
"A colleague who went undercover there has lost contact while performing a very dangerous mission."
Julian continued calmly.
"His last location has been roughly pinpointed, but..."
As always, he maintained his composure.
This was typical of Julian, who remained calm even in the face of death, in prison, and even when facing execution.
"It requires more resources than I can handle alone. I need personnel I can trust and operational funds."
Julian was incorruptible. Since he spent all his rewards and salary on orphanages and poor relief, he likely lacked the funds for his own operations.
"Yes."
I answered without hesitation.
"I will volunteer."
Drugs are a poison that sickens the Empire. And behind those spreading that poison, undoubtedly...
Izenheim would be involved.
"Go on ahead. I'll get ready."
Therefore, this was actually the 'incident' I had been waiting for.
Julian had been defeated by the cartel in the past, but I would not let that happen this time.
*
Chiron leaned against the office window and closed his eyes.
The dim moonlight filtered through the gap in the window, illuminating his face. A single tear rolled down from the corner of his eye.
Baltaras.
Every word and sentence of his resonated. There was a noble meaning even in his tragic end.
"...Ha. Sob."
The attitude and bearing that every noble should rightfully emulate.
The loftiness of a man who loved a woman with endless purity.
It might have been a long time since he had been immersed in such pure emotion.
"Sob... Hic."
He composed his surging emotions. After steadying his heart, he left the office.
"Phew..."
Taking a deep breath, he pressed the elevator button.
Ding.
Inside the opening elevator was a knight who had boarded first. It was the high-ranking knight, Adria.
In her hand, she also held a book with a black cover.
"You read the book too?"
"Yes. It looks like you've been crying, Sir Chiron."
"Me? No way."
"There are marks."
"...A book like this doesn't really suit you."
Chiron let out a hollow laugh, glancing at Adria. Adria gave a small nod.
"I suppose. I understood the noble's duty that Baltaras spoke of. But in the end, the theme of the entire book making one side the enemy was narrow-minded."
"You crazy woman. Shut your mouth. How dare you."
"...Isn't that a bit harsh, even if it's just the two of us? I found the storyline itself very entertaining. A romance that's hard to find in the Empire—"
Ding.
The elevator arrived. They quickly descended to the parking lot.
Chiron didn't want to associate with this woman. She likely felt the same.
"—Are you leaving now?"
At that moment, hearing a sudden voice, they both turned around.
The moment they looked at the man who had appeared out of nowhere.
"..."
Chiron's eyes widened. Adria's did the same.
In their ears, the description of Baltaras played back once more.
[ He possessed golden eyes that did not lose their light even in the darkness. His clean blond hair always shone brilliantly. His uniform was always perfectly spotless, and there was never a lapse in his conduct or bearing... ]
"Have a good evening."
Without saying anything special, he climbed into his car and drove away. Adria and Chiron stared blankly after him—a man whose every mundane movement was flawless.
"...Hah."
It was staggering.
A knight just like Baltaras—a knight who, at least externally, was a perfect match—
Had been working in the same place all along.
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