Chapter 29

A Night of Counting Stars (3)

“When on earth is that thing going back?”

“Who knows what the Privy Council is thinking?”

“Why are you bringing up the Privy Council? That ship belongs to Naval Command!”

The elves, who had begun their school lives normally enough, were now engulfed in confusion.

Even elves with their towering pride and fanatical patriotism had their limits. At present, they were grinding their teeth under the combined weight of secondhand embarrassment and the humans’ subtle contempt.

On the first day the warship floated above their heads, the elven students had all puffed out their chests and proudly declared:

Look at that. We must be unbelievably powerful if we can park a warship right in the middle of the human capital and all they can do is stand around watching.

The astonishing race that had brought a warship to an entrance ceremony began to feel that something was slightly off after the first week.

Even if this is an era when warships are no longer necessary, is it really all right to do that...?

It was a fear bordering on survival instinct.

After all, deploying a weapon of war over another nation’s capital constituted an extraordinary military provocation.

There was virtually no chance of it happening, but if that provocation somehow led to war, they would instantly be reclassified from students to prisoners.

There was no Geneva Convention in this uncivilized, premodern fantasy world.

Of course, the kingdoms of the Alliance did not openly execute prisoners during border disputes, and no one was likely to behead the sons and daughters of noble houses who had traveled abroad to study.

But that was only something one could say in a world where “common sense” still applied.

In other words, merely imagining what sort of rampage a human kingdom—widely believed among elves to be a place where common sense did not apply—might unleash was enough to make their survival instincts twitch.

And then, after another week had passed, bringing the total to a full fortnight, the elves looked up at their proud aerial warship still floating in the sky and finally displayed one of their racial characteristics.

They stood at the forefront of civilization, parliamentary politics, and democratic constitutional monarchy.

Therefore, in accordance with their racial nature, they finally organized political parties.

In other words, the factional infighting had begun.

The elven students had split into a Privy Council faction and a Naval Command faction and launched a civil war. Civil war, too, was one of their racial characteristics.

Naturally, determining who would seize their royal authority could not resolve the situation. Electing a first-year class president would not make a perfectly functional warship say, “Oh, congratulations,” and return home.

In any case—

Outside, there was the humans’ contempt and hostility.

Inside, there was the elves’ warm and friendly political activity.

And above them, there was the warship, floating serenely in the sky without sending a single transmission.

In this chaotic age, when peace itself had become a vulgar joke, a gardener and a young human nobleman visited the elven students’ dormitory.

This took place the day after Dmitri had cautiously handed Ivan a set of “written orders.”

To turn the clock back to the previous day—

That is, to the evening Elizaveta decided she ought to bury an axe in the elven captain’s neck.

Dmitri headed for the orphanage into whose coffers he personally funneled money every year after picking the royal treasury clean and laundering the funds.

Elizaveta was, fundamentally, a shy young woman—at least in Dmitri’s personal opinion—so this work had been conducted without Ivan’s knowledge.

In other words, Dmitri had reigned as the orphanage’s greatest patron all this time.

Officially, he had dismissed the payments as “preferential treatment for a former official” or “support for a lieutenant colonel who retired without receiving a military pension.”

But regardless of the excuse, was it not his own hand that delivered the money?

“Oh, right. Hello, children.”

“......”

Dmitri walked across the grounds, offering a genial smile to the eerie students who moved with a suspicious lack of sound.

It felt like walking through the corridor of a Counterintelligence Command rehabilitation facility for political prisoners.

The resemblance mostly came from the way the observers stood silently at the edges of his vision, watching without making the slightest sound.

“I have no intention of interfering with a respected senior’s personal hobbies, but doesn’t this fall somewhere within the legal definition of sedition?”

How had Ivan ever thought of collecting orphans and turning them into field agents?

Rubbing the back of his prickling neck, Dmitri continued toward the director’s office.

He passed a former Droan soldier savaging a pile of laundry with a series of suspicious rrrip, rrrip sounds.

Then he passed an unfamiliar teacher in a strange hat who was being subjected to a group beating by the children.

“Senior, are you in?”

“You used the door today.”

When Dmitri opened the door to the director’s office, he found Ivan beyond the same astonishingly barren interior.

Ivan was sorting through a pile of documents with an icy expression.

“What is it?”

“Ah, well. You have a guest?”

“Oh, you must be my big brother’s friend! Please, don’t mind me. Go ahead and take care of your business!”

“......Big brother?”

Apparently, his senior had somehow acquired a much younger brother.

Dmitri studied the lively young man’s face for some time before snapping his fingers.

No wonder he had seemed familiar. Dmitri knew that face.

“Aren’t you Sir Karamzin? Goodness, fancy meeting you here!”

“‘Sir’ is far too formal. I’m merely a student! Please, speak comfortably with me!”

The sudden enrollment of high society’s most notorious troublemaker in a theological academy had kept the area around Pritchenkaya buzzing for quite some time.

Was he not the youngest son of House Karamzin, a ducal family that had produced several generals for the national defense forces?

And someone like that was calling Dmitri’s senior—a man who had never shown the slightest interest in politics—“big brother”?

Dmitri’s eyes sharpened.

Ivan tapped the desk.

“Yevgeny. Wait outside.”

“Yes, Big Brother! Take all the time you need! I’ll be doing volunteer work!”

“Keep an eye on how many sets of clothes Mord ruins while washing them.”

“Yes, Big Brother!”

With the sycophantic smile of a court eunuch, Yevgeny backed out of the director’s office.

Dmitri stared blankly after him, then tilted his head.

“Your tastes have changed quite a lot, Senior. Didn’t you used to hate people like that...?”

“He is a good-natured boy.”

“Come to think of it, even your expression seems to have softened. As expected of Sir Enrique.”

Ivan struck the desk again, this time with heavier taps.

Always so impatient.

Grinning, Dmitri pulled a letter from inside his coat.

“Colonel Kirillovona sent this...?”

“She is the Minister of the Royal Household now. Anyway, the situation is rather complicated. You are also the only person capable of handling it.”

Dmitri handed him the letter and sprawled across the sofa.

“I donate plenty of money every year. You could at least buy a more expensive sofa.”

Ignoring Dmitri, Ivan read the letter.

His face immediately twisted into a scowl.

This was a major operation.

“Is she serious?”

“Would our princess joke about something like this?”

Infiltrate the Calion warship floating above Yansk University and threaten its captain.

At the same time, avoid casualties among the warship’s crew as much as possible.

“Why?”

“Ah, that part is a little complicated.”

Dmitri frowned.

Where should he begin?

“It appears that the warship has suffered some kind of mechanical failure. No matter how insane those knife-ears are, they wouldn’t continue a military provocation over the capital for more than a fortnight. They have no reason to.”

“And?”

“So we intend to use this opportunity to bait our Minister of Foreign Affairs... His Highness Aleksandr.”

Dmitri slowly straightened his back.

The humor vanished from his face.

What remained was the expression of a lieutenant colonel serving as an internal inspector at the Counterintelligence Command’s Investigative Headquarters.

“The Calion elves know perfectly well that our country is in complete disorder. In the midst of that, Her Highness personally went aboard and ‘threatened’ them.”

If the warship were then subjected to a genuine threat, its captain would inevitably attempt to join hands with the crown prince.

That was why they had provoked the captain in the first place.

“We need evidence of His Highness the Crown Prince making contact with the elves. Something we can use to accuse him of plotting a military coup with the aid of an elven warship.”

“Extreme.”

“Everything our princess does is extreme.”

“Is that the only objective?”

“Of course not. When have we ever conducted an operation with only one objective?”

Dmitri rose with a cold smile.

“We are going to seize the Calion warship. We will denounce those knife-ears for daring to aim their cannons directly at the royal palace of mighty Krasilov. Then we will declare that they conspired with the crown prince to stage a coup. Preparations are already complete to send an official letter of protest to the Calion Privy Council.”

“Calion will dismiss the incident as the independent misconduct of a single captain. In exchange...”

“They will have to authorize the ‘docking’ of the ‘totaled’ warship outside Pritchenkaya so that it can be ‘repaired.’”

Aerial warships were weapons of war exclusive to Calion.

But as with all technology, there was always a risk of it leaking.

Therefore, they would seize the warship.

After its seizure, they would attempt to reverse-engineer it under the pretext of repairing a vessel that had been “totally destroyed.”

Even from Calion’s perspective, it would not be an entirely unfavorable outcome.

Considering the expense and labor required to construct a warship of that size, the number of vessels Krasilov could maintain would never surpass Calion’s navy.

But Krasilov desperately needed even a handful of aerial warships.

Because it had no ice-free port, Krasilov’s maritime trade came to a complete halt during winter.

If the operation succeeded, the princess would gain an enormous political justification.

One conspiracy alone would not be enough to remove Aleksandr from power, but it would at least subject him to a political offensive severe enough to immobilize him for some time.

And if they also acquired the designs for an aerial warship—

They could sway the military, which had declared neutrality in the internal conflict between the crown prince and the princess.

Naturally, powerful weapons of war would ultimately fall into the military’s hands.

Practical gain, political legitimacy, and support.

Three objectives pursued through a single operation.

Even if they failed to achieve the best possible outcome, the princess herself would suffer no damage.

After all, it was the elves who had parked a warship in front of the royal palace.

“This is impossible without you, Senior. All the operatives available to us have already been exposed, and the undercover agents lack the ability to carry out an operation like this.”

At present, the Counterintelligence Command was the only force in Pritchenkaya that the princess could mobilize.

Enrique did not obey orders from the royal court.

Therefore, Ivan was the most powerful card the princess possessed.

The Lumberjack.

The Butcher of the Seven Dragon Generals.

The Great King’s Executioner.

“Little” Ivan.

“If this operation is concluded successfully, you will no longer need to continue your existing mission. Once His Highness the Crown Prince is reduced to a political vegetable, there will be no reason to protect the distinguished guests at Yansk University. And should you require some other form of compensation... Well, Her Highness asked me to convey this.”

Dmitri hesitated before speaking cautiously.

“She said she would offer you the position of prince consort.”

“Pretend I did not hear that.”

“Ah... Her Highness will be hurt.”

“Tell Her Highness to keep her eyes on the sky.”

Ivan rose from his chair.

“Has anything changed?”

“Yes, Big Brother! The wording in the ‘quest window’ has changed!”

Ivan nodded at Yevgeny’s answer.

After Dmitri departed, Yevgeny returned to the director’s office and quickly wrote down the altered text from the quest window.

[B-Rank Chain Quest: Intrigue in the Krasilov Royal Court]

[The princess intends to seize control of the royal court by obtaining leverage over the crown prince. The fate of the Krasilov royal family now rests upon your choice!]

[Objective: Follow the princess’s orders and prove that the captain of the Calion aerial warship is colluding with the crown prince.]

[Optional Objective: Ensure the survival of every crew member aboard the aerial warship.]

[Optional Objective: Capture the aerial warship.]

[Optional Objective: Inform Crown Prince Aleksandr of the full conspiracy and proceed to the next chain quest.]

[Objective Reward: ????]

[Failure Penalty: ????]

After reading the note once, Ivan nodded.

“You will accompany me on this operation.”

“......What? Me?”

“We need to determine how the reward for completing a quest is given and how the quest itself progresses.”

These “quests” were generally registered before an “incident” occurred.

It was only natural.

There would be no reason to issue a quest for an event that had already ended.

Therefore, quests also served as early-warning systems for events that were about to occur.

The quest that had appeared before Dmitri’s visit had simply been titled Intrigue in the Royal Court.

It had instructed him to uncover the conspiracy surrounding the aerial warship, choose either the princess or the crown prince, and proceed with the relevant mission.

In other words, it was a faction-selection quest.

The faction choice had not yet been completed, but the moment they learned of the princess’s plan, the quest’s contents changed.

It now presented the options of advancing the conspiracy or informing on it.

An early-warning system that updated in real time.

It was an extraordinarily useful resource.

Ivan looked at Yevgeny, whose value continued to increase, and thought:

The people I know who were transported into this world are the Demon King, the Hero, and me.

The common factor among the three was that each had reached the absolute pinnacle of their respective field.

And considering that this boy, though still inexperienced, clearly possessed the potential to do the same—

There is a chance the other transported individuals are no different.

What abilities did they possess?

What stories did they carry?

What endings awaited them?

And when those endings arrived, in what form would they see their final credits?

The Demon King was dead.

The Hero had vanished.

Ivan alone remained.

Then what of the others?

Once their stories reached their conclusions, would they die?

Would they disappear?

Or would they remain?

There was much to discover.

The method of discovering it was clear.

And he had a reason to find out.

“Before noon tomorrow, we will ‘persuade’ an elf named Oswald and Yuri. The operation will begin tomorrow night.”

“Then what should I do, Big Brother?”

“Assist me.”

I should train this one as an operative.

With that thought, Ivan nodded.