Chapter 29: The Utility of Law (5) The Imperial Central Court. Judge Klaus walked down the corridor, his heels clicking rhythmically against the marble floor.
Clack. Clack.
He considered himself an ordinary man—or at least, that was his own assessment.
Born into a minor noble family of the Empire, he had followed the prescribed path to become a judge. His life had known neither dramatic upheavals nor extraordinary glory. He hadn't desired such things, either. He had simply fulfilled his duties silently within the fences of law and principle. He was the type often described as "unyielding," or perhaps just a "stubborn old fool."
Klaus opened the door to his chambers as he did every day.
And there, he froze.
A stranger stood in his office. A man in a knight's dress uniform was staring out the window.
"…Who are you?"
Caution colored Klaus's voice. The man slowly turned his head.
"Good day, Judge Klaus."
He introduced himself with a faint smile.
"I am Maximilian of the Sentinels."
Maximilian. The knight in charge of the case whose death penalty request Klaus had recently rejected.
"I've come because I wished to have a detailed conversation with you, Judge."
His voice was soft, yet it carried a weight that brooked no argument.
"Have a seat," Klaus said, gesturing toward the guest sofa.
"Thank you."
"It would have been better if you had made an appointment first."
"Haha. My apologies."
Maximilian sat down. He was the first to move, pulling out a document and placing it on the table.
"I came here to explain the details of this case, as it seems there has been a misunderstanding on your part."
"A misunderstanding?"
"Yes. All three of them are indeed members of the Revolutionary Group. While physical evidence may be lacking, the circumstances are more than enough to deem them as such."
Klaus's brow furrowed. As a judge, he had already issued his rejection.
"Judge. Daniel provided a secret space where explosives and forbidden books were stockpiled, and he desperately shielded the others during interrogation. Would he have done that if they weren't members of the Revolutionary Group?"
"I viewed that argument as an overreach."
Maximilian tilted his head. "An overreach…"
"The two immigrants can't even read or write the Imperial language. To sentence them to death on a whim—"
"Their illiteracy is merely a claim made by the Revolutionary Group. It's well within the realm of acting."
"That, too, is nothing more than your assertion. I ruled that the evidence was insufficient—"
"Judge."
Maximilian cut him off. He leaned his head to the side and took a deep breath.
"What I am speaking of is the duty of a knight."
"The duty of a knight?"
"Yes. As the Sword of the Empire, to strike down subversive elements that harm the Empire. To act solely for the glory of the Empire."
Maximilian gave a bitter smile as he spoke of knighthood.
"I'm sure your son knows this well."
Klaus's face stiffened instantly.
"I see your son is a cadet at Empire Point. His grades are excellent. If he continues to apply himself for two more years, he might even be eligible to join our Sentinel Knights."
The smile on Maximilian's lips suddenly froze cold.
"However, Judge, have you ever considered who is by your son's side? The company he keeps? And…"
Maximilian continued, his voice sinking into an even lower register.
"The sort of deviations he occasionally indulges in."
Maximilian's pupils dilated—the golden eyes of an Ebenholtz. Klaus looked away instinctively.
"…Are you threatening me right now?"
"No. I am merely informing you."
Maximilian leaned back against the sofa.
"Judge Klaus, you are a pure Imperial. An Aran who has lived in the Empire for a long time. Your son is the same. Therefore, this is what I think."
He continued in a tone laced with amusement.
"Even if your son possessed a few forbidden books, or if he frequently attended somewhat strange gatherings, I would think it's just curiosity. Surely, he has no connection to the Revolutionary Group. Of course. Since his father is an Imperial judge, it's only natural for him to possess that level of intellectual curiosity…"
Klaus stared at Maximilian. He saw his own reflection in those golden pupils.
"But these sub-species."
Press. Maximilian pushed his finger down on the documents.
"They are fundamentally impossible to trust. Their claim of not knowing the Imperial language, and Daniel's claim that the evidence was his alone—none of it is believable."
"..."
"You should have taken those factors into account."
Klaus couldn't find his voice. Many words welled up inside him, but the sudden image of his son's face seemed to suppress them all.
"In my view, the undeniable reality of this case is that all three are members of the Revolutionary Group."
"…Just to secure your achievements?"
Klaus finally voiced his conviction.
"From your perspective, three revolutionaries are certainly better than one."
He knew of the great noble House of Ebenholtz. He knew of Zebestian. Zebestian was not a man obsessed with achievements like Maximilian.
"I told you."
Maximilian let out a sigh of frustration.
"This isn't a matter of achievements. It is the duty of a knight."
He rose from his seat.
"A knight's honor is just as important as a judge's will."
Straightening his uniform, he laid down a single photograph.
It was Lucas, Klaus's son. It showed various instances of his activities both inside and outside Empire Point.
"I heard he is a precious son born late in your life. I hope he becomes my subordinate one day."
Maximilian gave a light bow.
"I shall take my leave then."
He departed, but Klaus remained seated, motionless.
The knight's words circled in his head.
His son, and his duty.
Two scales tipped endlessly within his heart. A silent agony deepened.
"..."
The backlight streaming through the window illuminated the judge's back.
* * *
I thought about the illusion of law. At some point, the laws of the Empire had become warped. They were not equal for everyone; they functioned selectively for only a few. The Revolutionary Group exploited those very evils, but now, I too had to use the law as a weapon, just like the other nobles.
However, the foundation of the Empire must not crumble in the process. While keeping the rotten nobles in check, I had to excise only the cancer cells preying on humanity.
I was aiming at two enemies with a single blade.
It was a paradox.
No, perhaps this entire world was a mass of contradictions.
How far can we go to survive? What acts are we capable of committing?
Under the paramount objective of survival, all other values become utterly meaningless.
"..."
I picked up a document I had received from an administrative official. It was a notice from the Imperial Central Court.
──[Imperial Central Court]──
[Notice of Change of Presiding Judge]
Previous Judge: Klaus von Limperk
New Judge: Karl Grossman
Reason for Change: Resignation due to personal reasons of the presiding judge.
───────────
It was a letter stating the judge had been replaced. Klaus hadn't just given up on this case; he had walked away from his profession entirely. Likely for the sake of his son.
Klaus was a man who wouldn't have bent his will for anyone. Because of that, his neck would have eventually been snapped by the Imperial Guard. Before my regression, he might have died without me ever knowing his name.
Rather than that future, bowing his head to me was…
"…Right."
I thought about my own 'rightness.' A dry, bitter taste, like sand, rose to the tip of my tongue.
From now on, I would have to kill countless people. Because it was impossible to precisely excise only Izenheim.
The biggest problem was the Revolutionary Group.
Are they the enemy? For now, yes. But in the end, they too are a part of 'us.'
Our ultimate enemy is Izenheim alone.
Nevertheless, we stand on different paths. We are parallel lines that can never meet. Because a large part of the 'Great Cause' they harbor is the concept of inalienable human rights—the idea that all minorities, including Izenheim, are equal.
I cannot simply pluck Izenheim away from them.
That is what a Great Cause is.
A single value that can never be abandoned no matter what, that cannot be compromised regardless of the sacrifice, and that countless convictions must protect at all costs.
"I cannot persuade them…"
I pulled out the second letter.
It was the verdict.
"And they cannot persuade me."
[In accordance with Article 112 of the Imperial Law, the defendants Daniel Mateo and two others are sentenced to death.]
The newly appointed judge had no objections to my sentencing request.
The three revolutionaries, including Daniel, were sentenced to death, and they became my achievement.
* * *
Behind the grounds of the Sentinel Knights' headquarters was a sprawling mountain. It wasn't particularly high, but the concentration of mana was dense, making it a decent training spot since ancient times.
High Knight Adria climbed to the summit. A man sat near a balancing rock.
"…So this is where you were."
Vice Commander Anton. He seemed to be taking in the view. Adria caught her breath and stood beside him.
"There's cause for celebration."
"Celebration?"
Anton asked, his hands clasped behind his back.
"A rookie knight caught the Revolutionary Group. Three of them, no less."
Anton gave a small chuckle at Adria's words. Adria's eyebrows twitched in response.
"I didn't think he'd be an easy fellow to deal with."
"He is the heir to Ebenholtz. We shouldn't have expected him to be ordinary."
Ordinary, ordinary, ordinary. Adria repeated the word under her breath, a smirk twisting her lips.
"…May I say more?"
Anton turned to face Adria. Her expression had turned cold.
"He is far more than just 'not ordinary.'"
Whoosh. A chilly wind blew. Their hems fluttered along with the falling leaves.
"He beheaded a sixteen-year-old cadet at Empire Point simply because the boy wasn't a pure Imperial, and he performed a summary judgment on an eleven-year-old noble murderer. That child was a victim before he was a perpetrator."
Maximilian had killed a child who had been abused by an old noble—a child who at least deserved a trial.
"Furthermore, one revolutionary and two potentially innocent immigrants have been sentenced to death. He even forced a judge to resign to make it happen."
Anton looked back out at the distant landscape. Below his gaze, the capital of the Empire stretched out like a painting.
Arcadia, where countless subjects lived…
"Before that, he dealt with an Imperial Guard member he had a conflict with. A soldier called the 'rising star' of the Guard vanished without a trace overnight."
Rodriguez. Adria had seen him before. A stiff-necked member of the Imperial Guard. He had a good chance of success within the Guard, but Maximilian had cut him down without mercy. Simply because he had squatted in a house Maximilian intended to buy.
"That is the kind of knight Maximilian is."
The man who had been evaluated as weak at Empire Point had, at some point, lost his leash.
"What do you think, Vice Commander?"
Adria asked Anton. Suddenly, a faint, inscrutable smile spread across Anton's face.
He answered quietly.
"He is truly a man who resembles the Empire."
A man who resembles the Empire.
Adria chewed on his words. They felt so accurate that an involuntary laugh escaped her.
"…I suppose so."
Maximilian Albrecht von Ebenholtz.
The evaluation of the man who had become a person of interest to the Knights, the political world, and the Revolutionary Group alike—Anton's words were profoundly correct.
"He is… a pure imperialist."
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