Chapter 4
Whenever the children at the orphanage asked why the Allied Kingdoms were called the “Allied” Kingdoms, Ivan usually told them to look at a railway map.
This enormous rail network, once used to transport military supplies during the war against the Demon King, now functioned like a system of arteries connecting not only city to city, but nation to nation.
These metal beasts could cross in only three or four days distances that would have required more than ten days of nonstop travel by carriage.
They had been the true heroes of the last war.
“Who arrives first?”
“Einar’s daughter from Droan, Senior. Princess Eshidis is scheduled to depart before anyone else!”
“It’s still January.”
“Exactly! Who travels all the way to a foreign country two months early just to wait for enrollment day? And she’s royalty, too! What a nuisance.”
The man spoke with a sly smile.
“It seems Princess Eshidis had a rough time back home. The bumpkins in Droan apparently look down on people who play musical instruments.”
“An instrument...?”
“Oh, did I forget to mention that? Princess Eshidis applied to the College of Music. The orchestral division, majoring in violin. Isn’t that incredible? A blood relative of Great King Einar—that Einar—becoming a violinist.”
Ivan paused at those words.
The Einar he remembered—before he became a great king, back when he was still a member of the Hero’s party—had been a madman who carried two axes and collected orc heads in the morning and taurus heads in the evening.
‘Kahahaha! Watch closely, “Little” Ivan! This is how you swing an axe!!’
Didn’t daughters usually take after their fathers...?
No.
That was not quite right.
It had already been several years, but the faint image Ivan remembered of Eshidis was that of a delicate little girl who adored her father.
In truth, she hardly resembled him at all.
Fortunately for everyone.
In any case, history’s strongest music student was about to be born.
That was Ivan’s brief assessment.
Eshidis might not have inherited her father’s appearance or personality, but when it came to swinging an axe, she was his exact copy.
“By the way, Senior, are you sure about this information? Someone is really going to attack the train?”
“Yes.”
“Who? Well... if you ask who, there are honestly too many people who come to mind. But she’s still Great King Einar’s daughter. If they’re caught, they’ll be subjected to the blood eagle.”
The blood eagle was the favorite folk pastime of Droan’s citizens.
It occupied roughly the same cultural position as playing yut during the holidays or riding swings during the Dano Festival.
At least, they were similar in the sense that large crowds gathered to watch.
The details were far too gruesome to explain to the civilized citizens of the Krasilov Kingdom.
“If the train follows the shortest direct route from Droan to Yansk University, it passes through here.”
Ignoring the man, Ivan traced a solid line across the railway map.
Transport Route Twelve.
One of the trade routes connecting the Kingdom of Krasilov and the Kingdom of Droan.
“And if my prediction is correct, this area—Igorvich Station—is the most likely location.”
“How can you be so sure...? Terrorists don’t announce the location of their attacks in advance. Senior, did you plant someone there?”
“Because they’ll carry it out inside the border.”
Ivan did not know who would launch the attack.
He could not even predict their identity.
He had withdrawn from active service and had no ties to the intelligence agencies.
But he could still make an educated guess.
Assume that the attack itself was a fixed event.
Then all he had to do was determine the “why,” the “who,” and the “how,” one at a time.
“The target will be Princess Eshidis.”
“Well, uh... if there really is an attack, then yes, probably.”
“Why?”
“...Pardon?”
Naturally, the goal would be to create a source of conflict between Krasilov and Droan.
That much was obvious.
“In that case, the attack won’t happen south of Droan’s border. To shift the blame onto the Kingdom of Krasilov, they’ll have to carry it out somewhere inside our territory.”
“Uh... yes. I suppose so.”
“But after passing Igorvich Station, this route crosses three separate military districts.”
No matter how vulnerable a train might be to terrorism, that did not apply inside a military zone.
The entire route was not surrounded by military territory, but it did pass directly through three military encampments.
That was a remnant of the railway’s original design as military infrastructure.
“And naturally, security becomes tighter the closer one gets to the capital. That makes Igorvich Station the weakest point.”
“Oh... yes, that makes sense.”
“When is Princess Eshidis scheduled to depart?”
“The noon train, two days from now.”
“Then she’ll arrive there at approximately ten in the morning, four days from now. If I leave now, the timing will be perfect.”
Ivan folded the map and nodded.
His junior stared blankly at him for a moment before letting out a quiet laugh.
“Do you really know something? It doesn’t seem like you received a divine revelation, and I never heard that you could predict the future while we were on active duty. I can arrange for agents to help suppress the attack, but I need evidence if I’m going to persuade my superiors.”
“Then shall we make a bet?”
“...A bet?”
“No support at the scene. We’ll simply look at the result.”
Ivan smirked and turned toward his junior.
Of course he had no evidence.
There was no way he could have an informant, either.
But the attack would happen.
It was “common sense.”
He had neither the time nor the inclination to persuade anyone over this.
More examples of this sort of “common sense” would inevitably appear in the future. How could he possibly argue his case every single time?
So Ivan decided to settle the matter from the very beginning.
Besides, he was confident.
If no terrorist attack occurred, the burden would be minimal, since he had never formally requested support in the first place.
But if the attack did occur, his words would carry genuine weight from that point onward.
After all, he would have rescued the High King’s daughter.
Furthermore, High King Einar would never have sent his most beloved daughter away alone. Naturally, she would have attendants accompanying her.
‘But if the terrorist attack is a fixed event, then they must be confident they can deal with every one of Eshidis’s escorts.’
He had little to lose and much to gain.
This was also an opportunity for Ivan to test whether his “academy formulas” were actually correct. If this and several other tests failed, then perhaps this world was not an academy story after all.
“You seem really confident. Fine, then. I’ll stay out of it for now.”
Ivan did not bother answering.
It was only natural that the man did not believe him.
Any anti-government organization with even a shred of sanity would not carry out a terrorist attack on a civilian railway.
A train attack inevitably consumed enormous human resources. From the moment the incident occurred, everyone involved—and every human intelligence network that might have taken years or even decades to establish—would be lost.
They would lose far more than they could ever gain by destroying a civilian train.
That remained true even if the objective was to assassinate Great King Einar’s beloved eldest daughter.
Unlike killing her while she was staying within the country, responsibility for an incident aboard a train would be somewhat ambiguous.
In other words, diplomatic relations might deteriorate, but the situation would be unlikely to escalate beyond a limited dispute.
Carrying out a terrorist attack for such a modest objective, thereby needlessly putting everyone on high alert, would be nothing more than a poor strategy.
Therefore, the Krasilov royal family would not invest more than the minimum necessary security.
That was the “common sense” of the people in this world.
It was a rational conclusion based on sound judgment.
Ivan’s “common sense,” however, was different.
This was a formula.
Four peaceful years had passed since sinister incidents such as terrorism and armed conflict disappeared along with the Demon King.
It was therefore not strange that Ivan was the only person capable of anticipating something like a train attack.
Even if a foreign princess was entering the country, the authorities would do little more than prepare a ceremonial reception at the capital’s station.
“I have to do this at least three more times.”
Ivan let out a deep sigh as he descended onto the train platform.
Excluding the Saint, four members of the Hero’s party had children arriving from foreign countries.
If terrorist attacks occurred on academy “entrance trains,” then he would have to protect all five railway routes used by those students.
What an utterly tiresome other world.
Ivan pressed firmly between his brows as he boarded the train.
While Ivan traveled toward the border, his junior dutifully headed to the royal court to report to his superior.
“Your Highness, your servant Dmitri Cherkatov has entered the palace.”
“Within the court, you will address me as Minister of the Royal Household.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
The office had extravagant interior walls carved from solid wood and gilded with gold.
It was absurdly spacious for the use of a single person.
The office belonging to Princess Elizaveta Kirillovna Krasilov—Liza the Iron-Blooded—contained an enormous ebony desk decorated with marble and ivory reliefs.
Beyond the desk, which was covered in a disorderly pile of documents, a woman moved her pen with an indifferent expression.
“Report.”
“Sir Petrovich has departed.”
“Tell me something I do not already know.”
“He suspects a terrorist attack on the train. He specified the date and location with surprising precision.”
At those words, Elizaveta’s quill stopped.
“Did Vanka have an informant?”
“No. There has been no sign of anything like that over the past four years.”
An intelligence organization ultimately consisted of human resources.
And all human resources were like components that required continuous maintenance and proper lubrication.
In other words, it was impossible for someone with no support or active network to suddenly identify an unknown anti-government organization during a newly assigned mission.
That meant Ivan’s actions could only have been based on conjecture.
Even so, he had displayed a certain kind of absolute conviction.
The same conviction he had shown four years earlier when departing for his final mission.
As though claiming that a terrorist attack would happen without any evidence whatsoever was simply common sense.
Had anyone other than Ivan made such a claim, Elizaveta would have dismissed them as a madman without a second thought.
“We will learn whether his information is accurate in time. But at the very least, Sir Petrovich is still as sharp as any active-duty agent, Your Excellency. His edge has not dulled in the slightest.”
The reliability of the information was a secondary matter.
Ivan had already left alone without requesting support, so even if his prediction proved wrong, they would lose nothing.
Dmitri shuddered slightly as he recalled something more important.
It had happened when he first went to meet Ivan.
Moving naturally while unconsciously suppressing one’s presence was merely a basic skill among members of the Extermination Unit.
But Ivan had accurately determined the location and height of an unseen person beyond a closed door.
Then, instead of continuing to conceal himself, he had deliberately revealed his presence, lowered his body out of the line of fire, and prepared to counterattack.
That level of conditioning was difficult to find even among active agents.
The moment Dmitri turned the doorknob, he had felt a dense premonition and a dry, palpable killing intent.
Raising his voice to reveal his location to Ivan had been almost instinctive.
Had he remained silent, an axe blade might have come flying at him in the very next instant.
“Heh... Hehehe.”
A quiet laugh came from the other side of the desk.
As far as Dmitri could remember, it was the first genuinely pleased laugh he had heard from her in three years.
“Your Excellency...?”
“Assign people to him. Record everything Vanka does, down to the smallest and most insignificant action, and bring the reports to me. Mark them as urgent—extremely urgent—so I can review them at any time.”
“Well... if you want to see him that badly, wouldn’t it be simpler to go in person?”
“If I intended to do that, I would not have spent four years merely watching him.”
Elizaveta smiled faintly and resumed moving her quill.
“It is proper that we reunite at a better moment, under more perfect circumstances.”
“Ah... yes.”
“Enough foolish talk. Go and continue protecting the country, Sir Cherkatov. Do you have nothing better to do?”
“...Yes, Your Excellency. Your humble servant Dmitri Cherkatov shall now withdraw.”
Dmitri retreated and left with an uncomfortable expression.
As though receiving reports on every single movement a man made was somehow more dignified or romantic.
Hoping that his own lover would never develop such ideas, Dmitri hurried out of the eastern palace.
When the agents dispatched by Dmitri arrived at Igorvich Station, they were handed three neatly wrapped body bags.
Ivan Petrovich was nowhere to be found at the meticulously cleaned crime scene, where even the bloodstains had been removed.
By then, Ivan was already running through the forest with an axe in his hand.