A Dud

26

One of the agents from the Intelligence Agency, who were restraining the unidentified man who tried to attack the Minister, pulled out a dagger and held it out towards the barrier surrounding the Imperial Academy.

The steel blade of the dagger began to bubble and dissolve the moment it touched the barrier.

The man, restrained and sprawled on the ground, let out a maniacal laugh as he watched.

“Heh, heh heh heh! It’s no use! It’s no use! That barrier was created using the venom of the legendary hydra as its medium! It corrodes anything that even touches it! No one can get in—! Ack?!”

The agent, deciding the man was too incoherent, gagged him, then spoke to the Minister, who was standing silently and staring at the barrier.

“We will request assistance from the Mage Tower. It is dangerous, so it would be best if you returned to the Intelligence Agency, Minister.”

The agent nodded at the Minister’s words.

But he didn’t turn back.

Having confirmed everything necessary, the Minister returned his gaze forward and issued an order.

“Have Angela Barmut brought to me. She’ll understand if you say I asked for her.”

“Yes, sir.”

“In the meantime, I’ll go inside and resolve the situation.”

“Sir?”

Leaving behind agents who could barely believe their ears, the Minister approached the barrier without hesitation.

And before anyone could stop him, he took a step forward, passing through the barrier.

As if it were nothing.

His footsteps were light, as if taking a stroll.

“M-Minister!”

Belatedly, one of the agents tried to follow him, only to be grabbed by the scruff of his neck by a colleague.

Having successfully stopped him before he melted, the agent kicked at the ground, scattering shards of debris toward the barrier.

With a hiss, the fragments melted upon contact with the barrier.

The barrier remained undeniably intact.

“What on earth…”

The inexpressible emotion they were feeling wasn’t limited to the intelligence agents alone.

The very person who had created the poison barrier stood with his mouth agape, watching the Minister’s retreating figure.

The Minister simply walked on, silently, without any explanation.

The ring on his hand glimmered faintly.

—

The academy courtyard.

The Empire’s Crown Prince, David Acherus, cursed inwardly.

‘Damn it! No, it won’t budge, no matter what I do!’

A colossal magic circle covered the entire school grounds.

Ensnared by the binding magic activated by it, his body felt as if thick chains of iron had been wrapped around him from head to toe.

David rolled his eyes, scanning his surroundings.

He saw countless students in the same predicament as him.

Their reactions varied.

Most were weeping, consumed by terror, but some thrashed, fighting to live.

Though it mattered little, either way.

‘There’s so little time…!’

Maurice Lupin. He who had wrought this chaos, had spoken before departing.

The poison had been insufficient to create a true barrier, he’d said, but instead, he’d prepared a magnificent death, a spectacle to behold.

Why he, a teacher who’d spent so long instructing at the academy, had suddenly done this, I couldn’t know, nor could I fathom how.

What mattered was that this magic instructor, once revered by all, harbored a murderous intent to annihilate the school’s students and teachers, and had laid some sort of trap.

‘Stay calm, David. Think calmly!’

Deliberately erecting a barrier, cutting off any outside help, he’d imprisoned all within the school’s walls.

If he’d set some kind of device, it would surely be timed.

I could surmise that much, but that was all.

Unable to move, I could neither search for nor disable the device.

‘…Is this the end? Was I born into this world merely to face such a pathetic death? Don’t be absurd!’

Ignoring the tearing of his skin and the flow of blood, David gritted his teeth, straining with all his might to break free from the binding magic.

Despite his young age, his courage in overcoming the terror of death, his refusal to relinquish hope, were traits worthy of praise, fit for the crown prince of a great empire.

But hope isn’t something one can grasp simply by reaching for it.

‘Damn it…!’

Yet, hope sometimes enters unbidden.

“If you attempt to move any further, your muscles will rupture, David.”

Hearing the familiar voice from behind, I instinctively tried to turn my head, but my neck wouldn’t budge, and I could only inwardly panic as he appeared before me.

“Erwin!? How did you get in here…? Ah, no, that’s not important, the device, we have to disable the device!”

“I know.”

“Huh?”

Without asking what kind of device it was, or where it was located, the minister turned and began to stride away.

“Erwin!”

David, dumbfounded by the sight, belatedly called after Erwin, but he had already vanished.

Time passed.

Each minute, each second, slipped away with alarming speed.

Several minutes after the minister disappeared,

A deafening roar assaulted our eardrums.

“Ugh?!”

The horrifying boom, so loud I reflexively tried to cover my ears despite knowing it was pointless, slowly began to fade.

A few minutes passed before the Minister reappeared before David.

“Dud. Failed to detonate.”

—

Emerging outside, I scanned the area once more.

That was close!

Thank goodness it was a dud; a proper detonation could have leveled the entire Academy, triggering a massive catastrophe.

Soon after, Angela arrived, dissolving the barrier encasing the school, and freeing the students and professors from the binding magic.

Seriously, how did a terrorist attack happen the precise moment His Imperial Majesty suggested I visit the school?

Guess coincidence really does exist!

“Heh… Heh heh heh heh…”

The man I initially mistook for a school guard was staring up at the miraculously intact Academy, a hollow laugh escaping his lips.

I’d only learned it myself just now, but his name was Maurice Lupin.

A teacher at the Academy, highly respected by the students.

Come to think of it, he mentioned a village massacred by the Empire earlier.

Something clicked in my mind, and I decided to ask him a question.

“Are you a survivor from Montanus Village?”

Maurice, still caught in his deranged laughter, turned his head towards me.

“…Yes. I am the sole survivor of that beautiful village you people trampled and defiled.”

Huh?

Trampled and defiled?

Beautiful village?

The incident occurred long before I became Minister, that much was certain, but if I recall correctly what I read through in the records, Maurice’s description was very different from the image the records painted.

“To call a village that succumbed to cultic madness, a place where people slaughtered each other to oblivion, ‘beautiful’… I question your sanity.”

Though, considering he attempted to annihilate the very students he taught and his fellow faculty, should I even be surprised?

“…A cult? Slaughtered each other? Ha! Don’t lie to me! I saw it with my own eyes that day! The Knights, burning the corpses of the massacred villagers!”

Well, I guess he *did* see that.

The Knight Order *was* dispatched to Montanus Village, after all.

Albeit a somewhat delayed deployment.

“You saw the Order butcher the villagers, then?”

“Of course I saw it!”

“Are you quite certain you saw it? Or did ‘someone’ else simply tell you that’s what happened?”

“…What?”

Aha. So that’s how it went.

By current standards, Maurice is nearing his twilight years, a man of considerable age. But back when the incident occurred, he would have been but a small boy.

If he survived the tragedy, then his parents, or whoever cared for him, must have hidden him away in some safe place.

Then, after things had settled, the arriving Order would have been seen burning the villagers’ corpses. That would more or less align with the known facts.

“Wasn’t it a certain Goetz Umbarev, a priest of the ＜Discipline Cult＞, who told you ‘the villagers were massacred by the Order’?”

Priest, or whatever you’d call the head honcho.

Maurice, hearing my words, started in surprise, his eyes widening.

“H-How did you know that!?”

How did I know? Because I’ve read the records, that’s how.

“Even before the tragedy, Montanus Village was a subject of interest. After a pseudo-religious group called the Discipline Cult took root there, disappearances, murders, arsons, and the like became incessant.”

The harm even spread to neighboring villages, or so it’s recorded.

Naturally, the Order also launched an investigation. But the insularity typical of rural villages was further strengthened by religion, making it impossible to discern anything, according to the records of the time.

“The Discipline Cult preaches that everyone in this world is a sinner who has betrayed the Goddess. Using that as a pretext, they first guide people through a process they call repentance, but the end result is always mutual slaughter.”

When the believers at their target location are all dead, they move their base and repeat the same actions.

They’re a bad lot in more ways than one.

“…So what are you saying? That the events of that day were committed by the villagers against each other, is that what you’re claiming…?”

“You understood correctly. Just so you know, you weren’t the only survivor back then, either.”

Since all are long executed and dead, Maurice’s claim isn’t wrong, in the sense of a survivor still among the living.

For the record, those who barely survived the tragedy couldn’t believe that they tried to kill each other and were driven mad.

And the thing they said most often until they died was, ‘The village was murdered by the Empire!’

They chose to distort the reality they faced rather than confront an unbearable truth.

That’s why I was able to immediately recall Montanus Village when Maurice cried out earlier.

“Lies…It’s all lies…You, you b*stards, are obviously concealing and manipulating the facts!”

“Are you daft? If we had concealed it, we’d have recorded that we concealed it. If we’d manipulated it, we’d have recorded that we manipulated it. That’s what the Intelligence Department is for.”

Otherwise, we wouldn’t know what’s right from what’s wrong later on.

“So…”

The man, used by one with malice and forced to live his life seeking the wrong revenge, was handed over to the Knights.

He would now spend his remaining days in regret.

Whether that time would be short was a fortune or misfortune, I couldn’t truly say.

But what to do about the Emperor’s orders?

Considering the circumstances, casually approaching and asking if she had a boyfriend felt… wrong.

As I pondered what to do, someone ran and embraced me.

“Brother! Are you unharmed!?”

“I’m fine. Now, let go.”

What’s with this full-grown kid acting up on the main street? It’s embarrassing.

“That’s so mean!”

“Regardless, I’m grateful you came right away. Things went smoothly thanks to you.”

“… ‘Smoothly,’ you say.”

Ah, whatever. Today feels like a lost cause. I’ll just go grab a meal with Angela.

If I explain what happened, His Majesty might forgive me. And if he doesn’t, and I lose my position as Director, that would be fine too.

But even as I thought to at least meet David and Ellis for a quick hello, I was dragged straight to the Imperial Palace –

“Ervin Barmut, I bestow upon you the title of Archduke of Acherus.”

– and unexpectedly received a special privilege that allowed me to do pretty much anything, except things like rebellion or targeting the Emperor and the Royal Family, making it seem practically useless.