Episode 18: I Mistook the Genre and Ended up Becoming a War Hero

Episode 18: Empire (6)

In the original story, the emperor was oblivious to the Red Star’s existence, leading to their assassination at a banquet. But the emperor before me now was different. She already knew of them.

I quickly masked my expression. Eleven years of wielding a sword in battle didn’t mean I couldn’t control my face.

While maintaining composure, I continued my thoughts.

The emperor knowing about the Red Star at this point already diverged from the original story. I set aside figuring out what caused the deviation for later.

‘Why bring this up now?’

Mentioning the lack of a ducal estate as a preamble—did that mean she’d planned this when granting me the title of Duke?

I soon grasped what the emperor was implying. Were she proposing to transfer the estates of nobles tied to the Red Star to me if I dealt with them?

I glanced at the emperor’s face, but the veil obscured her expression.

“First I’ve heard of it,” I said.

The emperor stared at me intently, then gave a faint smile, as if my answer didn’t matter.

“You might not know. The Red Star is a rebel organization, rooted across the empire—particularly among certain nobles, mercenary groups, and interest factions.”

They gazed at the ceiling, shrouded in a black mist that reflected nothing.

“I need someone to root out that organization. A hero to eradicate them.”

Her words clarified her intent: the reason for granting me the extravagant title of duke.

‘She plan to use me as a blade.’

The emperor intended to wield me as a weapon. Whether I was involved with the Red Star or not was irrelevant to her.

What mattered was legitimacy and spectacle. The judgment and misconceptions would fall to the nobles watching, not me.

“You’re the ideal candidate. Your trust earned from northern feats, your battlefield instincts, and your untainted judgment. A hero of the empire’s founding, curing its ailments—what a splendid picture.”

A strange breeze brushed my nape, though no wind should stir here. I couldn’t identify it. The emperor continued in a casual tone.

“If you deal with the Red Star, I’ll confiscate their estates and transfer them to you, piece by piece, from the emperor’s direct holdings to your ducal domain. Both reward and legitimacy will be yours.”

The emperor approached, smiling subtly. The veiled smile was so faint I could only sense it.

There was no issue. From the moment I arrived in the capital, I’d resolved to crush the Red Star. This was merely an added reward.

“In a few days, I’ll assign an aide to you. Don’t misunderstand—it’s to provide information and support.”

***

“…Was it wise to let him go? His motives are unclear,” Gernhardt said.

To Gernhardt, Ian was a man of uncertain intentions.

Initially, he thought Ian fled to the north due to a drug cartel.

A madman reveling in prostitutes wouldn’t go to the front to die over a broken engagement—it didn’t add up.

Even a severely depressed person wouldn’t take a two-year detour to the northern front when cutting a wrist would suffice.

But investigating Ian’s actions there shifted Gernhardt’s perspective.

Not only did Ian deliberately spread the Wave Technique, but he also slew the first demonic beast.

Could a person change so drastically overnight? Gernhardt didn’t believe it.

From experience, he concluded humans don’t change easily.

Without a life-altering event or a complete personality overhaul, transformation was unlikely.

That made Ian all the more suspicious. A broken engagement wasn’t a pivotal enough event—Ian had shown no interest in his fiancée.

The cartel was the same; Ian wasn’t in a position to know anything worth silencing. He was merely a participant.

As if sensing his doubts, the emperor lazily propped her chin, glancing at her palm, cut earlier by the dagger but now fully healed.

“Sir Gernhardt, you still distrust humans. Not that I’m one to trust others easily either.”

Gernhardt bowed his head silently.

Working in the intelligence agency naturally led to disillusionment with humanity.

Living in a world of deception taught one that trust came at a steep price.

“I don’t trust humanity—I trust individuals. Believing in ‘humanity’ is absurd,” the emperor said.

“Then what about him…?” Gernhardt asked.

“How many humans truly act without regard for legitimacy or scrutiny? Even if such a person exists, rising to a high position inevitably shackles them. Most can’t move so freely.”

In Gernhardt’s twenty years of service, the emperor distinguished between “humanity” and “individuals.” They seemed similar, but to her, the difference was vast.

“Even a reckless wastrel would be the same—unless they’re a fanatic convinced they’re chasing a cause greater than legitimacy.”

Suddenly, the emperor burst into laughter, tapping the throne as if recalling someone.

“What madman would throw their daughter’s savior into hell to help them? Still, humans only show their true worth in extreme situations.”

Gernhardt remained silent as the emperor’s eyes glinted coldly.

“The duke was right. Complacency in peace dulls even the sharpest minds. Thus, I expect the entire empire to stay sharp.”

At that moment, Count Roen was dragged into the palace by two intelligence agents.

Thrown before the throne, he looked up at the seated emperor, his eyes filled with fear, confusion, and buried rage.

The emperor chuckled softly, as if finding it amusing.

“Your Majesty…!” Roen stammered.

“Count Roen, I’m truly impressed by your cunning. ‘Great ambition, weak ability’—a phrase that suits you perfectly.”

Roen’s expression turned blank at the emperor’s cryptic words. Rising from the throne, she continued.

“Your loyalty was so profound that you upheld my prestige and authority at the banquet. As a just ruler, I must reward you accordingly.”

With a flourish, the emperor cast aside the veil concealing her face. The revelation of her visage struck Roen pale, his breathing ragged.

“Count Roen, I grant you two choices.”

As the emperor extended a hand, Gernhardt silently handed over a sword. She ran a finger along its edge, testing its sharpness.

“Your son or your daughter. Choose one.”

“…!!”

Roen had two cherished children. Faced with choosing one, he was paralyzed. He groveled at the emperor’s feet, pleading.

“Your Majesty! I was out of my mind then! Punish me instead—”

“You are a true father. Inspired by your resolve, I’ll send both your children to lead the vanguard in the upcoming southern war. With luck, they might become war heroes like him.”

As the emperor’s golden eyes flared, Roen’s limbs went numb. Gripping the sword, she stabbed it into his leg.

“Aaaagh! Your Majesty, please, mercy! The other nobles will fear you!”

“You’re a loyal subject, worrying for me even now. Prioritizing nobles over me is an issue, but fear not—your actions will spread word of my just rewards and punishments.”

“Argh! Isn’t this without cause? Killing a count without justification—”

“Hup.”

The emperor drove the sword into Roen’s spine with a sadistic smile, chilling even Gernhardt, who was accustomed to such scenes.

“There is cause. You embezzled pensions from retired soldiers and colluded with the Red Star. Or will you claim even this was for some noble purpose? Truly, you’re a loyal subject.”

“Aaaagh!”

“I hope white blood flows from your throat.”

Roen soon stopped screaming. Handing the sword back to Gernhardt, the emperor murmured,

“With the northern front resolved, we move to the next phase.”

“The next phase, Your Majesty?”

“Expand the academy. Reaping results without dirtying our hands was fine, but they keep crossing the line—brazenly enough to irk me.”

The emperor smirked darkly.

“Then it’s time for slaughter. The kingdoms are merely a farm I’ve been raising. It’s time the south, protected for 400 years, pays its due.”

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