The Meaning of Disposition (4)

......In the Empire, it always seemed like there were many nobles and not many nobles at the same time.

The south, annexed relatively recently, had fewer nobles. But in the west and east, where tradition and history ran deep, quite a few old houses remained.

Bernhardt also came from one of those long-established native noble families in the west.

Still, while growing up in the west, one phrase followed him everywhere: "central nobles."

To provincial nobles, central nobles were always a vague fantasy, and at the same time, something that stirred a strange resentment.

The central nobles Bernhardt met at the academy and in the military were different from the start, beginning with how they spent money, with that head-to-toe ornamental vanity.

To be honest, a lot of it was fucking irritating.

Groundless confidence. Bluster soaked into their bones. A vulgar superiority complex.

Even if you had more money and a higher rank than me, my house outranks yours, that kind of bizarre arrogance.

Some western nobles wagged their tails while admiring the center's splendor, but to Bernhardt, whose family had been martial for generations, it looked like nothing more than a ridiculous clown show.

Central nobles. Central nobles. Central nobles.

He had heard it until he was sick of it, but he had always thought the reality behind it was hollow.

But.

The man now standing before him was different.

Different in quality, different at the root.

Just walking beside him made Bernhardt feel a suffocating pressure.

Thud. Thud.

To Bern, he looked sharp as a blade.

Noble, and dangerous.

Thud. Thud.

His stride and gait. His gestures and every movement. In all of it, there was untouchable dignity and composure.

He looked like the complete embodiment of an ideal Aran noble, molded from qualities Bernhardt had never once seen in real life.

Maximilian Ebenholtz.

"Loyalty!"

By then, they had already reached the brigade. A large crowd of soldiers had gathered at the main gate.

Brigadier General Juken hurried over, shoved Bern aside, and took position next to Maximilian.

"Sir Knight! What brings you to this shabby frontier..."

Maximilian walked calmly between them.

"I received a whistleblower letter."

Whistleblower letter. Bern's heart lurched, and Juken sucked in a deep breath, but Maximilian showed no expression.

No, he showed no emotion. He looked at everyone here as if they were lowborn things. Yet his gaze felt so natural that everyone accepted it without protest.

Bern still could not tell whether he was ally or enemy.

In truth, he was probably neither.

Because he was different from them.

A noble different in many ways, maybe in every way.

Maximilian Ebenholtz asked,

"Where is Lieutenant Adel Festo?"

......

Adel crouched on the cold cement floor of a dark, damp solitary cell.

Days of relentless interrogation had passed. Brutal sleep deprivation had worn him down. His mind was already swaying at the edge between reality and hallucination.

Step. Step.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the corridor beyond the bars.

Different from the rough boot steps of ordinary guards and military police. Quiet and measured.

Execution?

Did they come to execute him?

"..."

Through his blurred vision, Adel stared weakly at the dark navy boots that had stopped in front of the bars.

"Nice to meet you."

A deep voice fell from above him. Adel forced his head up. His eyelids were so swollen from torture that he could not clearly see the man's face. Only a hazy outline flickered.

"Who..."

He blinked hard and forced his focus back. Before anything else, vivid blond hair and golden eyes came into view.

"My name is Maximilian Ebenholtz."

The moment he heard that name, Adel's focus blurred again.

A jolt shot through his numb mind.

"Uh..."

Maximilian. Ebenholtz. A combination of name and house that should not have existed here.

The Ebenholtz monster who shook Imperial Central had come in person to an isolated eastern frontier stockade?

Why?

"Are you Adel Festo?"

As he asked, Maximilian pushed a single white sheet of paper and a fountain pen through the bars.

At the top was only one line.

[Write everything you know.]

......

"It's fine. Please calm down, Brigadier General."

Lieutenant Colonel Eaton calmly soothed the pale-faced Juken.

"Nothing will happen."

"Eaton, do you even know who Maximilian is?"

This was not expected, but they had already set up many safeguards for times like this.

A knight was only a knight. In other words, not a soldier rolling in the mud of the eastern front. He heard reputations and rumors from far away. People in the center could never know the true inner workings here.

"Yes. I know better than anyone."

Eaton answered with a relaxed smile.

"He is a knight who follows rules and principles, and who puts dignity first."

His own reputation must have reached that man too.

This was exactly why he had built his brand as an upright and incorruptible commander.

"And also."

He took documents from his coat and placed them on Juken's desk.

"What is this?"

"These are the transmission records Lieutenant Adel obtained in communications control. Original mana-wave data that proves smuggling."

Lieutenant Adel had been fooled by him and had handed over the most important evidence without resistance.

"Then..."

"Yes. I've already adjusted what needed adjusting."

Now that he had the original, manipulation was easy.

Juken's eyes widened.

"They will become material evidence that Lieutenant Bern and a few field-grade officers we need to cut loose as scapegoats sold supplies to the Eastern Alliance. I'll hand this to Maximilian."

Eaton smiled as if nothing was wrong.

"It means you and I will be safe, Brigadier General."

Brigadier General Juken stared blankly at the forged documents, then color returned to his face.

"Ha, hahaha! As expected of you. As expected!"

Only then did he laugh in relief, like a man who had returned from the edge of death.

......

A barren field in the eastern border zone. Dirt and weeds, nothing else. The command staff of the 7th Armored Grenadier Brigade, Brigadier General Juken, and the bound Lieutenants Adel and Bernhardt were all summoned there.

Whoooosh.

A harsh wind kicked up dust. Brown haze swirled around their feet. Maximilian Ebenholtz stood alone at the center.

Juken approached him as Maximilian looked up at the night sky.

"Sir Knight. This is it, regarding the whistleblower letter you received..."

With a tense face, Juken handed over the documents. The mana-wave records had been forged by Lieutenant Colonel Eaton.

"I'm sorry. We had no intention of hiding this, and we had already begun an internal investigation ourselves."

Maximilian accepted the papers, skimmed them without interest, then raised an eyebrow.

"Then there is no need to even take this to a court-martial."

He murmured quietly, flicking the paper in one hand.

"Excuse me?"

When Juken asked, Maximilian turned his gaze and looked down at Bernhardt.

"Lieutenant Bernhardt."

"...Yes."

"Did you sell military supplies to an enemy state?"

At the sudden question, Bernhardt's eyes rolled.

"What the fuck are you... urk!"

The military policeman behind him struck the back of his knee with a baton. Brigadier General Juken shouted in alarm.

"You bastard! How dare you speak carelessly in front of Sir Knight!"

"I absolutely did not! I never did that!"

Bernhardt cried out in injustice, but Maximilian lightly shook the document in his hand.

"The record decoding this mana communication wave has your name on it."

"T-that is impossible! It's forged! Those bastards are trying to frame me..."

"Shut your mouth, you little shit!"

Juken slapped Bernhardt across the face. Maximilian let out a faint smile and shifted his gaze.

"Then who obtained this evidence directly?"

"I did."

Lieutenant Colonel Eaton Weiss stepped forward and answered politely.

Maximilian stared at his upright bearing for a long moment.

"Lieutenant Colonel Eaton Weiss. The central military has been full of praise for you."

At that, Bernhardt's face twisted with despair, while relief spread across Brigadier General Juken's lips. Eaton simply bowed with composure.

"You flatter me, Sir Knight."

"Sir Knight Maximilian!"

Juken stepped in, triumphant.

"Shall we send these traitors straight to court-martial? Or to Knight Court?"

Maximilian shook his head.

"...No need."

Then he drew a silver pistol from his waist.

"Ah. N-no way."

Juken's dry voice cracked.

Maximilian raised the muzzle. Every movement flowed naturally.

.

A silent shot. A mana-compressed bullet split the air. No time to react. No time to think.

In that instant, Lieutenant Colonel Eaton's forehead was pierced.

"..."

Eaton collapsed with that same mask of hypocrisy on his face. His pupils unfocused, brain matter spraying out. Maximilian twisted his wrist and pulled the trigger again.

.

This time, Colonel Michael beside Eaton, an Izenheim, had his temple blown apart.

"Uh..."

"..."

"..."

In less than a second, two field-grade officers were dead. Everyone in the field fell silent. No one made a sound.

Only Maximilian, standing with moonlight behind him, spoke.

"All imperial traitors who smuggled military supplies to enemy states are subject to summary execution."

His voice shook the air. Mana rippled like an echo, and Adel and Bern went rigid. They could only stare blankly at the knight standing before them.

"S-s-sir Knight!"

Brigadier General Juken, face drained white, took a step backward.

Bang!

This time it was not suppressed. A deafening crack tore through the air.

A wind hole opened in the exact center of Juken's forehead. His heavy body collapsed onto the dirt.

Thud.

Maximilian idly touched the muzzle, still steaming with mana, and muttered,

"The louder version helps set the mood."

Every military policeman and soldier at the scene was stunned out of their minds.

It was that unreal.

"..."

Major Kenso stared at the three corpses sprawled on the ground. The cartel leadership of the eastern front, generals and field officers he had thought untouchably high above him, had been butchered in seconds without a trial, without even a chance to explain themselves.

Imperial authority, overwhelming and effortless.

"Sir Knight!"

Someone broke formation and rushed forward. It was Major Joachim.

"I..."

"I know."

Maximilian lowered his gun and smiled softly.

"Now move."

He jerked his chin toward Adel and Bernhardt.

"You two come with us."

* * *

7th Armored Grenadier Brigade, headquarters conference room.

The communication interception records Adel had smuggled out, and every ledger and document the military had hidden until now, were cross-verified.

"...Estimated total is 335."

Lieutenant Colonel Goetz and Major Joachim submitted their report.

The number of corrupt soldiers who had systematically stolen military supplies under Brigadier General Juken and Lieutenant Colonel Eaton's command, sold them to enemy states, and profited personally.

Some of them may have taken only pocket change. Some may have been pressured so hard they had no choice but to join.

Excluding those, the number dropped to 280.

"Drag them all out."

Maximilian gave the order. Adel and Bern moved quickly as well.

After that, the 280 soldiers on the list were disarmed and dragged to the field. In one corner, the three top command corpses had been buried like trash.

"Hm..."

Maximilian looked down at the lined-up offenders with detached eyes. Fourteen rows of twenty. Battalion-level scale.

"Hah, shit."

"There are this many?"

Bern and Adel laughed in disbelief. So many soldiers had been involved in corruption...

"The disposition is..."

Then Maximilian continued.

"Execute them all."

Execute them all. Adel turned to him, unable to believe it.

"...All 285 of them?"

Maximilian nodded plainly.

"Yes. Everyone here will be summarily executed."

"..."

Lieutenant Bernhardt blinked a few times. Lieutenant Colonel Goetz and Major Joachim did the same. They looked at the mass of soldiers in front of them.

With one short sentence from Maximilian, this many human heads were about to fall.

Thump.

At the same time, the virus below Maximilian's collarbone pulsed violently.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Out of these 280 soldiers, more than 30 were Izenheim.

Cancerous infiltrators who had wormed their way into the imperial military, gnawing the organization from within and stoking corruption.

By ratio, it was close to twenty percent.

More than enough to deserve death.

"...Sir Knight."

Adel stood in front of Maximilian on shaking legs.

He pointed at his own platoon soldiers tied in the front row.

"They are my platoon men. Their involvement in corruption is my fault and my incompetence. They only gave in to pressure from higher-ups and the lure of money, so just this once..."

"What are you doing!"

Bernhardt grabbed Adel's arm roughly, but Adel stayed firm in front of Maximilian. Meeting his eyes, he begged for mercy.

"...Lieutenant Adel Festo."

"Yes."

Maximilian looked down at Adel in silence. After staring at the top of his head for a long moment, he raised his pistol.

Bang!

No hesitation.

Right in front of Adel's eyes, one tearful platoon member's head exploded.

"Military discipline..."

Adel exhaled hard. His heart pounded so violently it felt like his ribs would break.

"...begins with refusing to forgive betrayal."

Maximilian passed the frozen Adel and aimed the gun at another platoon member.

"If you want to become the pillar of the Empire."

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Merciless gunshots rang out one after another. Soldiers with shattered heads dropped. They fell like weeds in a windstorm, never to rise again.

"Then carry a heart worthy of it."

Maximilian lowered the pistol and asked coldly,

"Understood?"

"...Yes."

Adel nodded, and Maximilian quietly raised a hand.

"Load."

Clack. The bolts on the soldiers' rifles snapped back and forward in unison.

"Aim."

At comrades they had joked with until yesterday,

or comrades who had leaned on upper-rank backing to torment them,

the sights aligned.

"Fire."

Click.

They pulled the triggers.

!!!!!

Countless gunshots followed, filling the mountain ranges of the Empire's east.

The bullets surged like the sea, and everyone, including Adel and Bern, watched the end of the collaborators with their own eyes.