The carriage rolled smoothly along the wide road. Lillian and Annie sat facing each other. He noticed her complexion was unusually pale.
"What did you talk about with Reiner and the others…? If you can tell me."
They had definitely talked. In fact, Annie had insisted on coming along this time—she needed to confirm her companions' intentions for herself. Unfortunately, the result wasn't much different from what she had expected.
"They want to take Eren as soon as possible," Annie said, hesitating for a moment. "And… Reiner might be a little suspicious of me."
"…Why?"
"The Military Police headquarters. Erwin went there with his men the very next day."
"I see."
No further explanation was needed. The moment Annie mentioned it, Lillian understood.
The incident happened, and the next day Erwin personally led a team there. Reiner and the others wouldn't know why—Erwin would never share that kind of intelligence with new recruits. On top of that, he already suspected there was an enemy among the trainees.
Under those circumstances, Reiner growing suspicious was only natural.
"So how did you respond?"
"I don't know."
"…What?"
Annie glanced at him. "My answer was literally: 'I don't know.'"
"I see…"
Lillian nodded and fell silent. Annie watched his rigid posture and asked,
"What are you thinking about?"
"How to deal with those old bastards in the royal capital."
"…."
At the moment, the only person Lillian could truly confide in was Annie. Matters like this—he could only talk to her about them.
"The real power inside the Walls is in their hands," Lillian said. "Not just status or wealth—most importantly, military authority. The nobles don't just have private armed forces of their own; they've also planted a large number of their people in key positions across the major military branches."
He thought to himself: this was exactly why Zackly had endured for so many years. Even though he was, in practice, the man in control of the three major branches, that control came with limits. If he ever gave the order for soldiers to turn their guns on the nobles, at least a third of them would probably defect on the spot.
"Some of them also control secret technologies," Lillian continued, "and right now, those are things we urgently need."
Although the royal government openly banned scientific research, technological development had never truly stopped—it was simply happening in the shadows, monopolized by those people.
"So what do you plan to do?" Annie asked.
"We have to strike first," Lillian replied. "Your transformation last time must have made them realize the danger. You can tell from the fact that the Central Military Police pulled back halfway through their investigation. It probably won't be long before they find an excuse to go after the Survey Corps… Once we're back, I need to meet with President Zackly again."
He suspected that although Erwin hadn't said it out loud, he was likely thinking along similar lines. Once you realize the enemy is the state itself, focusing only on how to drive back Titans becomes dangerously short-sighted. The strategic view had to widen—fast—to figure out how to confront a world brimming with hostility.
There was an old saying: to deal with external threats, you must first secure the internal ones. If the interior couldn't unite, then standing up to powerful empires beyond the Walls would be nothing but an uphill struggle. In that case, Erwin would likely begin actively pursuing political alliances while continuing to search for enemies among the 104th trainees.
Sure enough, less than an hour after Lillian left, Erwin issued orders for the 104th Cadet Corps to be sent to the southern city district of Ehrmich. On the surface, it was labeled "training," but in reality, it was isolation—keeping them temporarily away from Eren.
As for Eren himself, because Lillian had suggested that Titans could possess a "hardening" ability, Hange and Levi were assigned to train him intensively in that direction, hoping to draw out the power. If successful, reclaiming Wall Maria might finally become possible.
What Lillian didn't say was that Eren didn't actually possess that ability on his own—unless he consumed the Armored Titan's spinal fluid.
Meanwhile, Erwin immediately began preparations to travel to the royal capital to visit Pixis, the commander of the Southern Military District.
---
Lillian and Annie returned to Stohess District. Along the way, he processed a mountain of documents, handing them over to Annie to implement, while he himself prepared to head straight for the inner city and the royal capital without stopping.
What he didn't expect was that the very person he intended to seek out—Zachary—had already extended an invitation.
"This was delivered by someone sent by President Zachary," Marlo said, handing Lillian a letter.
Lillian opened it at once. It was short—just a few lines—inviting him to attend a dinner banquet in the royal capital that evening.
"What's he playing at…?"
"Captain Lillian, is something going on with the president?" Marlo asked curiously.
"He invited me to a banquet. Didn't say much else."
Marlo was visibly startled. "An invitation from the president himself? You absolutely have to go." There was a trace of envy in his voice. "The people there must all be big shots. Someone like me would never get the chance to attend."
"What are you talking about?" Lillian said. "You're coming with me."
Marlo froze.
"What's there that you can't attend?" Lillian patted him on the shoulder. "Don't sell yourself short just because you're my friend. At the end of the day, it's just a dinner. Bigger house, more expensive food—that's all."
With that, he turned and headed for the door. "Don't just stand there. Go change and get ready."
It wasn't until Lillian reached the doorway that Marlo finally reacted. He chased after him a couple of steps and shouted,
"But—I wasn't invited!"
Lillian stopped, lifted the letter in his hand, and said, "It doesn't say I'm not allowed to bring anyone."
"…!"
Marlo felt his heart jolt. He straightened instantly and shouted, "Yes, sir!"
The two of them changed clothes in the dormitory. After arranging the Military Police's duties, Lillian departed with Marlo. Leaving Annie behind at headquarters was more than enough—if anything happened, she was fully capable of handling it.
Once again, they boarded a carriage and endured another long, bumpy journey.
Watching Lillian still buried in paperwork, Marlo couldn't help asking, "Captain… aren't you tired? You just got back from the Survey Corps—you haven't even rested for half an hour, have you?"
"I'm fine," Lillian said, glancing up at him. "By the way—how's that weapon I asked the craftsmen to make coming along?"
"Oh!"
Marlo scratched his head awkwardly. "Captain, honestly, the craftsmen all think you're insane. The finished product based on your specs weighs dozens—maybe even over a hundred pounds! Even if you're strong enough to lift it, there's no way it can be used with omni-directional mobility gear. What's it for? Decoration?"
"To be honest," Marlo added, "they only agreed because you're a deputy commander. If it were anyone else, they'd have cursed them out on the spot."
"Who said I was going to use it with mobility gear?" Lillian shot him a sideways look. "Can't I walk? Seriously…" Then he added, "I asked about progress. How far along is it?"
"Uh—almost done. The craftsmanship itself isn't that complicated. Probably just a few more days before delivery."
"Good."
Lillian didn't pursue the topic further and lowered his head, returning to his documents.
What he was reviewing were files on local nobles and merchant guilds in Stohess District. Now that he was a deputy commander, dealing with these people was unavoidable. In fact, they had been anxious to get in touch with him.
The previous commander had effectively served as a protective umbrella for the district's interest groups. Now that the umbrella was gone—along with the man who held it—and a new commander had taken over, everyone was eager to rebuild the old mutually beneficial relationships. Unfortunately for them, Lillian had spent the past few days cracking down on public security, completely ignoring several of their invitations.
Naturally, that wouldn't have made them happy. They probably felt snubbed, disrespected… but Lillian had no time to care about their feelings. After all, the entire interior of the Walls was on the brink of being reshuffled—and once that reshuffling was over, who knew whether these people would even remain in power?
Before long, the two arrived in the inner royal capital.
To be honest, public security here was worse than in Stohess District under Lillian's control—depending on the area, of course. It was like certain cities back on Earth: cross one street, and everything changes. On one side, artsy youths brooding over their feelings; on the other, aggressive thugs enthusiastically "greeting" each other's families.
"Hey, you little bastard—stop right there! Give my bag back!"
"Screw you, old man! Go die!"
Robberies were happening openly in the streets. Marlo clenched his teeth and was about to jump off the carriage, but when his foot hit the edge, he hesitated—after a few seconds, he sat back down.
"Damn it!" he snarled, fists clenched. "Even the royal capital is this chaotic—what are the Military Police here even doing?!"
"Same everywhere," Lillian replied without lifting his head.
Rotten from the top down—that was true corruption. As long as the chaos below didn't interfere with the lives of those at the top, it didn't matter how bad things became. And if things ever got truly out of hand, they'd just make an example of someone, restore "order" for a bit, and the masses would be pacified once again.
"Lillian, we have to change this!" Marlo said firmly.
"Is that so?" Lillian replied calmly. "That kind of change comes at a heavy price. It might even cost lives."
"So what?!" Marlo shot back without hesitation. "Even if it costs me my life, I'll still carry out my justice!"
"Oh…"
Lillian studied him deeply for a moment, then nodded.
"Good. Very good."
The carriage came to a stop.
"We're here. Get out."
Lillian and Marlo stepped down, and before them stood a lavish, brilliantly gilded building. Four or five Military Police soldiers were stationed at the entrance, standing guard.
Just as they began walking forward, a voice—cool, sharp, and tinged with surprise—rang out behind them.
"Lillian Kafka?"
Lillian paused and turned around.
Another carriage had arrived at some point. Compared to theirs, it was clearly a private luxury carriage—drawn by four tall horses, draped with exquisite silk curtains. Gems glittered at the corners of the frame, and even the step was paved with silver ore.
The one calling his name was a noblewoman stepping down from the carriage, lifting her long dress as she did so. Her expression—aggressive, proud, and sharp—was unmistakable. Lillian recognized her immediately.
"Hello," he said. "If I remember correctly… you're Miss Diana, right?"