When the Air Demands You Politely Die

10th Installment

If Truth were solid, then Rumor is a fluid.

That the Imperial Intelligence Director, Erwin Warmuth, had collapsed was, in itself, a fact. Yet, as that information passed from person to person, the original truth began to shift, organically.

“I hear the Iron-Blood is ailing?”

“They say he’s caught a deathly sickness.”

“Seems he doesn’t have much time left.”

“Even a being like a demon is, in the end, just a man, I suppose…”

The rumor spread, unstoppable.

From the capital, across the Empire. And from there, to the continent itself.

Naturally, Imperial Intelligence immediately countered, declaring the information false. But no one believed it.

The fact that he *had* collapsed was undeniable, after all. And because he was Erwin Warmuth, everyone assumed he was concealing even his own suffering, lest he show any weakness to other nations.

On this point, frankly, even Intelligence had to admit there was a point.

Truth be told, even within Intelligence, worries were growing that Erwin truly was afflicted with something.

If even those on the inside felt this way, it was too much to ask outsiders to believe otherwise.

Erwin’s parents and siblings didn’t believe it.

The Emperor didn’t believe it.

“By any means necessary, you will save the Director of Intelligence. If the Director dies, so shall you.”

The most solemn command of Emperor Sylvester Acherus, directed toward the Imperial physicians.

Thanks to this, the physicians were placed in a situation where they had to ‘fix’ things that didn’t need fixing.

Then.

The Director awoke.

—

To catch a cold, sleep soundly for three days, and wake up to an atmosphere that felt like the air itself was politely requesting one’s demise… why?

No, in the first place, I hadn’t slept the whole three days.

I’d only slept particularly long on the first day of collapsing; from the second day on, I woke up, washed, ate, and did everything as normal.

I’d already recovered cleanly yesterday, and I was only feigning illness to a degree because the people tending to me told me to rest one more day.

But somehow, I don’t know how, the atmosphere at the office was that I was on death’s door.

“Director. Lean on me. I will support you.”

“Unnecessary.”

“Kuh…! If you truly insist, then at least this cane. With this, no one would dare question your robust health.”

Unnecessary, I said. More importantly, why *should* my health be questioned?

Why do you look like you’re about to weep when I say I’m fine? Don’t cry. It makes me sad.

Like this, the escort squad was already making a fuss from the very commute to work I always took, but the real show started when I arrived at the Intelligence Bureau.

“……Cough.”

“Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Chief JaaaNG-! Are, are, are, are you alright-!”

“A physician! We need a physician! Conduct a medical examination! Examination examination examination examination!”

“Bring all the medication we have! Anything is fine, we need medicine, medicine, medicine!”

Are these guys insane?

Ah, correction. That was inappropriate phrasing for the imperial physicians His Majesty had sent, concerned for my well-being.

But still, all this over a slight coughing fit from a bit of coffee going down the wrong pipe is just too much.

The imperial physicians looked ready to stick by my side twenty-four hours a day, so I half-forced them out, claiming they were hindering my work.

Needless to say, hindering my work was a lie. All my work consists of is stamping documents, so there’s no hindrance to be had.

I just sent them away because they were overbearing.

However, it wasn’t just the escort squad and the imperial physicians bothering me, but everyone in this world.

“Chief. I’ve placed a soft cushion on your chair. Please, do use it.”

I have no interest in sitting on a pink, heart-shaped cushion, so I threw it at the face of the guy who claimed to have bought it himself.

“Chief. I’ve replaced your hard pens with soft-leaded colored pencils. Please, do try them.”

Give me back my pen. Why are you pulling it from your pocket with such a reluctant look? Were you planning on stealing it?

“Chief. I bought coffee milk, which should be easier on the stomach than regular coffee. Please, enjoy it.”

Please, please, enough already. I do like sweet things, so I’ll drink the coffee milk.

Anyway, to exaggerate a bit, they made a huge fuss over every breath I took.

I’m not stupid, and I have ears, so I roughly know that they’ve all mistakenly concluded I’m terminally ill, but still, aren’t you guys from the Intelligence Bureau?

What are Intelligence Bureau people going to do if they’re swayed by incorrect information?

After sending away all the nuisances, I finally felt relieved that I was alone and turned around, only to nearly faint again.

Celine was standing there like a stone statue, staring at me.

“Why didn’t you leave?”

“Because I am Chief’s secretary.”

That’s neither a reason nor an answer.

“You’ve been working fine separately all this time. What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

“Leave.”

“You said you needed me. Was that a lie?”

“It was not.”

“Then it’s alright.”

It was not alright. I made it perfectly clear that things were not alright.

Nevertheless, Celyn had already moved her desk next to mine and was starting to work.

Ignoring me, is it?

Though, with everything spiraling out of control, Celyn’s usual indifference felt almost welcome.

I shouldn’t be finding this welcome.

Wait a minute. Damn it all, this means I can’t slack off, either?

I wanted to sigh, but figured Celyn would probably do something if I did, so I refrained.

I don’t know how long this will last, but if it continues, I might have to resign from my ministerial post…

“…………”

Huh? Could this be my chance to retire?

If I feign illness, it wouldn’t bring shame to the family. A natural way to slip away, wouldn’t it be?

If I’m lucky, I could even get a severance package. Combined with my savings, I’d be able to live a reasonably comfortable life.

Good, strike while the iron is hot! Now that the opportunity has presented itself, I’ll go see His Majesty and resign.

With my resolve strengthened, I rose from my seat.

—

“Now is our chance, Prime Minister!”

“While the Minister is incapacitated, we must push back against the Noble Faction!”

Before the morning Imperial Conference, the Anti-Noble Faction gathered in one place, deep in discussion.

The catalyst: the deteriorating health of Intelligence Minister, Erwin Warmuth.

The main point was that while he, a crucial member of the Noble Faction, was weakened, they should apply heavy pressure.

“Hmph.”

Imperial Prime Minister, Daniel Erickson, stroked his beard, lost in thought.

Certainly, now was the opportune time to launch an offensive. They had the weapons needed to attack the Noble Faction.

On the other hand, the Noble Faction had lost over half their strength. There couldn’t be a more perfect moment to strike.

‘But what is this ominous premonition?’

No matter how he sliced it, there was no reason for a counterattack, yet a gnawing unease refused to dissipate.

Instinct screamed a warning.

Abandon the assault.

“Prime Minister!”

But he couldn’t afford to. If they didn’t strike now, they’d not only lose their chance but also betray the trust of their faction comrades.

The ‘choice’ was as good as nonexistent.

“…Excellent. Today, we shall bring the noble faction to its knees.”

Resolved, the anti-noble faction departed the room as one.

Led by the Prime Minister, they marched with purpose to the Emperor’s audience chamber.

As the anti-noble faction lined up, facing their noble counterparts who had arrived earlier, the council commenced, and Prime Minister Erikson immediately launched his attack.

“Your Majesty. I recently heard an unbelievably scandalous rumor. Namely, that Marquis Munteanu’s son assaulted a married woman. Here, in this very domain!”

In any era, scandal was the most efficient weapon for damaging an opponent’s image.

The higher the target’s social standing, the greater the effect; and when the individual was a representative of a class, or held a position equivalent to it, the scandal could shake the class itself.

“Prime Minister, that is…”

“This is blatant violence born of class!”

Deliberately ignoring Marquis Munteanu’s attempt at a composed rebuttal, Prime Minister Erikson continued to decry the nobility’s wickedness to the Emperor.

Of course, neither the Prime Minister nor the anti-noble faction sought to deny the class system itself.

Doing so would mean denying the Emperor’s own authority, and could result in their heads on pikes for treason.

Therefore, their attack was solely aimed at the noble class. In short, they desired a world where all were equal beneath the Emperor and the Imperial Family.

“Hmm.”

Even so, from the Emperor’s perspective, the situation was undeniably awkward, but he couldn’t blindly side with the nobles either.

He didn’t need to be perfectly impartial, nor was that realistically possible, but he had to at least give the impression of fairness, or the balance of power would collapse.

An imbalance of power was detrimental to the Emperor in the long run, so he had to constantly strive to keep both sides on even footing.

“Your Majesty, I dare implore you to impose strict sanctions to prevent such incidents from ever occurring again…!”

Prime Minister Erikson wasn’t foolish enough to believe this alone could topple the noble class.

This incident was a foothold, a catalyst. The true purpose was to lay the groundwork for inflicting greater damage on the nobles in the future.

The nobles, well aware of this, were about to retort, determined not to simply take it lying down, when…

The doors to the audience chamber burst open.

—

What? An Imperial Council was in session?!

The Minister of Intelligence, by the nature of his position, wasn’t obligated to attend royal council meetings unless it was truly necessary, so he’d completely forgotten about it.

Not only was my forgetting bad, but I think the attendant who opened the door as soon as he heard I was here to see His Majesty is also at fault.

Ah, Father is over there, looking at me with an ‘what are you doing?’ expression. I’m going to get an earful later, I just know it.

What to do?

I’m wrestling with whether to push forward with the plan as is when His Majesty calls out to me.

“Perfect timing, Minister Barmut. There’s something I’d like to hear your opinion on.”

“My opinion, Your Majesty?”

“Yes. The matter of Marquis Munteanu’s son’s alleged rape of a woman. I believe you’re aware of it?”

?

I’m not sure why His Majesty is suddenly bringing up this incident, but I should correct him first.

“I am aware, but it wasn’t a rape.”

“Minister, what…!”

“Silence. I’m asking the Minister now.”

Prime Minister Erickson was about to react to my words, but His Majesty stopped him.

I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s none of my business. Let’s explain this quickly and then I’ll resign.

“Leonardo, the Marquis Munteanu’s son, was indeed in love with a woman, but it was a normal and consensual relationship.”

“Hoh? Then why did the rumor of rape spread?”

The reason is simple. Because it’s more sensational that way.

“The woman Leonardo was in love with divorced her husband last year. She suffered severe domestic violence and reported him to the Knights Order, and her husband was arrested and they were divorced.”

The woman’s ex-husband was recently released from prison and, whether out of lingering feelings or revenge, tried to win her back, but she was already involved with Leonardo.

“It seems that it became a clandestine affair due to the difference in their status, but the truth is that the ex-husband ambushed Leonardo and the woman while they were together, that’s all there is to it.”

“I see. And what became of the ex-husband?”

What became of him? He was beaten half to death by Leonardo on the spot and taken to the infirmary.

After hearing the whole story, His Imperial Majesty suddenly asked me a strange question.

“The story you just told, can you, as Minister of Intelligence, guarantee its truth?”

“Huh? Ah, yes.”

I don’t know why I have to vouch for that guy, but nothing bad will happen if I guarantee the truth, so I guess it doesn’t matter.

…Nothing bad will happen, right?