Chapter 104: The Nature of Literature The heart of the Empire. Johann's room, cluttered and neglected for far too long.
Ink-stained balls of paper were piled like snow on the floor, while empty coffee cups and bread crumbs had laid claim to the desk.
"..."
In the center of this chaos, the author sat with hollow eyes, scratching out the final chapter of his novel.
With a trembling nib, he wove his sentences.
"The duty of a true noble. The conduct a nobleman must uphold. Have we perhaps forgotten these things for far too long…?"
Baltharas placed a hand on my shoulder with a sorrowful smile. His hand was cold, yet the warmth within his soul heated my heart.
"But one day, they too will finally realize. That the privileges they enjoy are a heavy debt built upon the blood and sweat of countless Arans."
The Baltharas within the pages was marching toward his end.
"Paul, as you said, I might die if I go there."
Baltharas smiled. He looked like a man who had already sensed his own fate.
"However, even if that is the case…"
Johann felt as though he were witnessing Baltharas's end, yet he couldn't stop. He became Paul, staring endlessly at Baltharas's retreating back as he departed for the battlefield.
His hand moved of its own accord. The momentum toward the conclusion did not cease.
…Baltharas's death was delivered in a short letter. I heard of his solitary war from afar. As an individual, he fought an impossible battle. Alone, he crushed countless armies. Yet, what he met was the irresistible flow of the era, a massive wave that was the sum total of corruption…
Johann could not bring himself to describe the scene of Baltharas's death.
His agony was represented through the medium of a letter, a brief passage of prose.
Gazing at the Empire's eternal nightscape, watching our lives that always recede into the distance, Baltharas believed in a future that held onto dreams. The path he pursued was perhaps the conscience we had all lost.
A hero who was more noble than any other, yet murdered by the contradictions of the Empire and aristocratic society.
I thought to myself. That you were a person far more valuable than thousands of those bastards combined. That you were the one person who could look in a mirror without a shred of shame.
It was only after your death that I finally considered what your faith could bring to the Empire.
Johann's pen pressed down so hard it nearly tore the paper.
…Though the casket containing Baltharas was buried in the dark earth, it is upon that grave that we shall finally greet a new morning.
However, he could not bring himself to place the period at the end of the final sentence. All sorts of cluttered thoughts swirled in his head.
It was a strange thing.
He had written a cursed tragedy without even realizing it. It was a story he could hardly bear to read again.
In the end, he crumpled all the manuscripts and threw them into the trash can.
"Sigh…"
An unknown emotion surged like a tidal wave from the depths of his chest.
For a long time, Johann sat with his face buried in his hands, stifling his breath.
* * *
The Empire. Sentinel Knights Headquarters.
As soon as I returned, I sought out Chiron's office.
"You broke the siege in less than a month."
Chiron smiled as he flipped through the report.
"...As you can see in the report, the performance of the Durkon Legion and the Bertun Unit was pivotal."
It was my first time witnessing Schweitzer's maneuvering style in person. There was a clear reason why his legion was 'much faster' than others.
"Furthermore, while the supply route has been opened, the civil war itself continues."
The Zerpa Civil War was just beginning. Though the blockade was broken, the Republican Faction's power remained intact.
It would be a war of attrition.
"I suppose so. However, I don't think the Imperial Palace will pay much more attention to Zerpa. They seemed displeased that Durkon is stationed in Alcantara as well."
Chiron's grasp of the political situation was occasionally surprising. Despite being a Sentinel Knight, he gathered fragments of information from deep within the Palace as accurately as possible.
"Looking at the current power landscape of the Royalist Faction, it seems they'll struggle even with food self-sufficiency…"
The Republican Faction had occupied most of Zerpa's agricultural zones. Even so, in the timeline before my regression, the Empire had only provided the Zerpa monarchy with support that amounted to leftovers or spoiled food.
I replied nonchalantly.
"I intend to handle the supplies."
"...You?"
Chiron's eyes widened.
"Even for you, feeding half a country for free would be a burden, wouldn't it? If the war drags on, it'll be a bottomless pit."
"For free?"
I tilted my head.
"When did I ever say I would provide supplies for free?"
Chiron's expression stiffened for a moment.
I continued with a small chuckle.
"Sir. I am not a philanthropist."
A nation is a far more reliable commercial target than any individual. I couldn't let an opportunity like this pass.
"Naturally, I'm going to put it on the tab."
It was exactly what the Empire had done.
Of course, the Empire had supplied trash, but I was going to supply proper food.
"When the war is over, I'll have to collect the corresponding price."
I intended to charge them with interest. If the Royalists won, that debt would become their leash.
Chiron stared at me intently before nodding.
"...I see. That's just like you. Well done. I'll benefit from this as well."
As the overall supervisor of this expedition, Chiron took the credit on paper.
"Yes. I'll take my leave then."
I gave a short bow and left the office.
After a long time, I returned to my own knight's office.
"You're back!"
"We've heard the news, Sir."
I was walking past, receiving greetings from the administrative officers, when suddenly, my footsteps stopped.
I took a step back.
I walked forward again, then retreated once more.
"..."
There was something strange about one of the desks.
I glanced at it out of the corner of my eye.
A person was sitting there with utter nonchalance.
Tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. Tak-tak-tak.
The executive secretary was staring at the monitor, fingers flying across the keyboard at an incredible speed.
"...Are you back from vacation?"
It was Yukia.
Without taking her hands off the keyboard, she replied indifferently.
"Yes."
Yukia had returned. She even used formal speech.
As if it were nothing. As if nothing had happened.
It was a good thing.
However, I decided not to make a fuss. Yakens were like wild cats or stray dogs; if you approached too aggressively, they seemed more likely to run away.
"..."
I silently entered my office and sat down. I pulled a small notebook from my breast pocket.
Scratch. Scratch.
Crown Prince Alonso's sentences were being written in real-time.
[The capital of Zerpa is a chaotic mess of refugees. Poor subjects who fled the Republican massacres to seek the King's protection… However, the soil around the capital is barren, making food self-sufficiency difficult. There is little food left in the warehouses, and many subjects are starving. The generals discuss invisible internal enemies while…]
"He's writing a diary."
Crown Prince Alonso's lamentations were quite remarkable.
[Do not worry. Supplies will be arriving soon.]
I left the efficient organization of the supplies to Dieter.
Civilian and military supplies would be strictly separated, and the distribution would be entrusted to Lieutenant Colonel Kai Han. If I left it to Zerpa's corrupt generals, those rats would surely embezzle it to sell on the black market.
But putting that aside.
"...What is Johann doing?"
The problematic man who possessed a uniquely special talent even among war criminals still had no news regarding his manuscript.
I suppose I should go see him myself.
Not to rush him, but just in case something happened.
...
I visited Johann's studio apartment.
"You've come, Sir."
Johann looked haggard. His physical state was grimy, as if he hadn't washed in a long time. Traces of living and writing were evident throughout the room.
"It seems you've been writing something in the meantime."
"Ah… no. I tried to write a manuscript, but it seems my talent was lacking… I couldn't write a single line."
That couldn't be true. This was a man who, despite being a war criminal, received praise even from Allied scholars who said they 'had no choice but to admire his literary talent.'
My gaze naturally drifted toward the trash can next to the desk. Crumpled balls of paper were stuffed inside haphazardly.
"This looks like a manuscript."
I picked one up.
"Ah. That, that is something I discarded—"
Before Johann could stop me, I smoothed out the paper and began to read.
I skimmed from the first sentence, then quietly sat down in a chair.
"..."
My eyes moved across the page.
Johann's prose filled my retinas.
It was fascinating.
Because the writing was far better than I had expected.
The content was one thing, but the sentences themselves seemed to glow.
"...Ha."
I finished the manuscript in an instant.
By the time I snapped out of it, dusk had already settled outside the window.
"Johann."
"...Yes."
"You really are a genius."
It was a sincere compliment, but Johann's expression remained dark.
"...It is a shameful story. To have such a tragic ending—"
"No. I love even that part."
I truly liked it. In this one book, Johann perfectly captured the duty that an Imperial noble ought to possess and the atrocities of the current Imperial nobility. At the same time, he firmly secured both the artistry of literature and the entertainment of a story.
"But Baltharas... he dies. Betrayed, forgotten, and lonely."
"It's fine."
The fate Johann worried about—Baltharas being killed.
To me, that made it even better.
"Tragedies linger longer in people's memories, after all."
Even if I was the motif for Baltharas, I wouldn't die.
I was no longer a man without responsibility.
The grand cause that had become my conviction at some point was growing firmer in my heart with each passing day.
Perhaps it was because I had already killed too many people.
Because I had already taken too much and accumulated too much karma.
"You said it yourself, Johann. That negative emotions leave a more vivid mark on the human mind."
After committing all this, I would have no face to show if I failed to prevent the destruction.
If I cannot stop the end, I will remain nothing more than a demon who committed atrocities at the edge of the world.
Therefore, I must live.
I must survive and prove it.
"That is why, more than anything, a noble like Baltharas needs to die for the story to truly land."
I carefully smoothed out the manuscript and set it on the table.
This also concerned the Emperor. As the Empire approached its final years, the Emperor's jealousy and envy would intensify. He would also become more superstitious.
No matter how much Baltharas was loved and praised, he ultimately died miserably in the novel. Such an ending would prevent any potential anxiety the Emperor might feel.
"In the end, what moves the hearts of people is the literature created by humans."
This Baltharas will sell, without question.
I will make sure it sells.
The quality is such that if I just tuck it into prominent spots on bookstore shelves and the libraries of various Imperial barracks, it will spread by word of mouth and sell itself.
"...Yes."
Though his face was still flushed with embarrassment, Johann nodded.
"And."
I handed him another stack of papers.
"This is the first draft of my autobiography."
"A draft... you say?"
"Yes. I want to write this together with you."
At that moment, Johann's eyes sparkled. The expression of shame he wore while discussing Baltharas vanished, burned away in an instant.
* * *
...The Central Magic Tower of the Empire, Sentio.
" Yawn~ "
Ezel yawned and stretched.
Lately, she had been spending a lot of time holed up inside the Magic Tower. The outside world was too noisy. News of war was constant, and the political situation changed rapidly every day.
She felt more at peace solving magic formulas buried in the silence of her lab.
"I should at least go for a walk."
So, she stepped out of the Magic Tower for the first time in a while.
Trudge, trudge.
Walking through the streets half-asleep, she suddenly found herself in front of a large bookstore.
"Huh?"
She saw a familiar back.
A woman standing in front of a stall outside the bookstore, reading a book without moving an inch.
It was Sonette Kandel.
"Hello?"
Ezel approached her cheerfully and offered a greeting.
"..."
There was no answer. Sonette was frozen like a stone statue.
"Excuse me? Ms. Sonette?"
Ezel called out once more. When there was still no reaction, she went behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.
"Excuse me?"
"...Ah."
Only then did Sonette turn her head. Her brow furrowed deeply.
"You broke my immersion."
Her voice was thick with irritation.
"...Pardon?"
"..."
Staaaaare. She glared as if she were about to kill someone.
"Ah, sorry."
Ezel apologized awkwardly and scanned the cover of the book Sonette was clutching.
A black cover with the title engraved in gold foil.
Baltharas
Author: Johann
"Johann, huh... There must be about 50,000 authors with that name."
Johann was the most common name in the Empire. There was even a proverb that said, 'If you throw a stone, you'll hit a Johann.' It was a joke, but…
"..."
Sonette gave her a cold look, then without a word, went inside the bookstore, paid for the book, came out, and walked away.
"Hmph... Look at her, acting all high and mighty."
Ezel pouted and picked up a copy of the book from the stall.
"What could be so great that she talks about immersion..."
[The nobility of the Empire bears a duty. In Ancient Aran, this is called Noblesse Oblige.]
Starting with the first sentence, which for some reason felt right on the tongue, she turned the page.
One page, two pages.
Three pages, four pages.
Five, six.
Seven, eight...
"..."
Naturally, her field of vision narrowed. Her entire focus became immersed in the pages.
It was as if the letters were dancing. Vivid images rose up as if some magic were embedded in the sentences. The figure of a noble named Baltharas began to bloom.
A perfect noble without a single flaw. Yet, the way he crumbled like a boy in front of a lady named Chloe...
She was sucked into the book in an instant.
"Hey. Hey, hey."
Just then.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder.
"Oh, for heaven's sake!"
Furious, Ezel frowned and turned around.
"Ezel. What are you doing?"
It was a colleague from the Magic Tower. Ezel growled without realizing it.
"You broke my immersion."
"Wh-what? No, I called you but you didn't answer."
"..."
Ezel glared at her colleague, then took the book straight into the bookstore, paid for it, and quickly marched home.
She needed a quiet space—a space where she could concentrate without being disturbed by anyone.
"Geez. What could be so great about it..."
The faint sound of her colleague, who had just broken her immersion, muttering familiar words as she picked up the book, drifted behind her.
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