"Akarius" was a mercenary corps based in the 'Canilan Independent State', where magic engineering was particularly advanced, even among the western regions of the continent.
"One million Empire dollars......."
The leader, 'Ren', was a pure Aran from the Empire. Most of their regular sponsors were also Empire-born, but precisely because of that, they had coiled themselves into an independent island nation separate from the Empire.
"......A million dollars just to find one old man."
She had become the head of a mercenary corps at the young age of twenty-three, making her a somewhat self-made figure in this field.
"He even has two names, seriously."
She quietly muttered the names written on the request form, [Giorgio Chirico, Lorenzo Carione].
"Shall we take the job?"
The secretary asked.
"Wait a bit.""Akarius" always conducted thorough prior investigation before taking on any job. The Empireâs nobles treated mercenaries like disposable goods, but to her, every member, each costing millions to raise, was a valuable resource.
"A lot of the members want to take the job. Some have already wandered off to the Empire."
"I got it, so shut up."
She scratched her red hair roughly and picked up the request form.
"The fact that one old man ran away alone, and that this stingy bastard is offering a million for it. Something smells. Any other information?"
"The location has already been pinpointed. It's in the south, Hermes Province."
"Hermes? Thatâs a backwater southern place. No other news from there?"
"Uh...... Just a moment."
Secretary Jecon manipulated the computer. In Canilan, the independent nation where magic and magi-tech were highly developed, every movement of the Empire was monitored closely, and news from there was always distributed through their network.
"Ah, found something. A mana stone explosion happened in the Lomilton Mountain Range of Hermes Province."
"A mana stone explosion?"
"Yes. They say itâs a jackpot."
"Fucking jealous. Who was it?"
"Um...... That hasnât been disclosed, butâ ah, right. Some of our members who already went to the Empire managed to get the ledger from the mana shop related to the target."
"Let me see."
"Here it is."
Jecon handed over a printed photo of the ledger. Ren scanned through the records and sales.
Anyone who could help an old man with two names must be a sponsor. So, focusing on the large recent transactions......
One person caught Mercenary Leader Renâs eye.
"Maximilian."
She didnât know exactly who it was. There were many people with the same name in the Empire, and Maximilian was a fairly common name. However, there were only a few who could spend this amount in one go.
"......Ebenholtz."
Maybe not, but if it was Ebenholtz, things would go to shit the moment she stepped in. Of course, she had a naturally twisted, rebellious personality, so she did feel like stirring things up. Especially if the opponent was Sebestian.
However, the time was not right yet.
"Weâre pulling out for now. Tell the ones already there to come back unless they want to get slashed."
***
The logic of the strong is the logic of power.
The strong oppress the weak. Because they are strong, they can dominate the weak. However, this cannot be applied selectively. Those who conquer the weak by strength must also acknowledge the possibility that they themselves can be crushed by someone even stronger at any time.
If they cannot do that, it is not logic, but sophistry.
Yet most strong individuals cannot accept becoming the target themselves when that moment comes. Instead, they cry foul and complain of injustice.
Itâs laughable.
A young knight of Ebenholtz officially ordered a retrial of the past "Giorgio Chirico" incident. The circumstances of the case, buried in dusty archives for over ten years, resurfaced once more, and the Central Court of the Empire set an unusually swift date for the retrial.
And from the moment that news spread, the collapse of Listmann Company began.
"......It seems we can no longer proceed with this transaction, Chairman."
The president of 'Terra Metals', a key supplier of Listmannâs core components, informed them of the deal's termination. The usual flattery in his tone had vanished, replaced with a far more businesslike demeanor.
"President Guenter."
"We're sorry, but thereâs nothing we can do either. Oh, and regarding the promissory note you issued last time, we ask that you pay in cash as soon as possible."
"The deadline was supposed to be six months later, wasnât it? Are you messing with me?"
"......Messing? The original deadline was next month."
Guenter let out a short laugh. A scoff, as if he found it ridiculous. Blood vessels burst in Valerius's eyes.
âChairman. There are some rather nasty rumors going around these days. They say you tried to put in some strange request with a mercenary corps and it blew up on you.......â
A long-time business partner was now belittling him. A mere commoner with some money dared to look down on me.
âIf I were you, Iâd try to let go of greed.â
President Guenter chuckled as he stood up from his seat.
âWell then. Iâll be counting on you for that promissory note.â
Left alone, Valerius clenched his glass tightly.
.......
Over ten years ago, the judge who handled the Giorgio case and ruled in favor of Valerius, along with some of the police officers and prosecutors who had been in charge of the investigation, resigned. As if prearranged, all cited âpersonal reasonsâ.
The bureaucrats who had once granted favors to the Listmann family turned their backs in an instant, and Valerius received a court delivery. It was an official summons, requiring his presence as a witness in the upcoming retrial.
At the same time, his arms and legs began to be cut off one by one. Loan extensions from banks were blocked. Multiple deals were canceled. Partner families cut off contact. Even the regular restaurants, social clubs, and golf courses he frequented refused his reservations.
Rumors spread that the Empireâs Tax Department had launched a special investigation targeting the Listmann Company.
Now, no one dared to associate with him.
Valerius Listmann was isolated in an instant.
All because of a single document sent by a knight of Ebenholtz.
Valerius gave everything up. In the end, he went to find Knight Maximilian himself. At the very least, to understand why, what it was that the man wanted from him.
âSir Maximilian!â
Without preamble, Valerius entered his office.
Under the sunlight filtering through the window, Maximilian was calmly pouring tea with a serene expression.
âExcuse me, sir, this isnât right. Unauthorized entry into a knightâs office isââ
An official rushed over to stop Valerius, but Maximilian waved his hand lightly, signaling it was fine. The official stepped back cautiously.
Maximilian spoke.
âPlease, have a seat.â
His tone was flat and even. Valerius hesitantly took a seat, adjusting his clothes and trying to steady his breath.
âWould you care for a cup of tea?â
Tea, my ass.
Valerius asked Maximilian,
âWhy? Why are you doing this to me?â
â.......â
Maximilian quietly drank his tea. Even in that simple gesture, a senseless sense of dignity exuded from him.
Valerius observed for a moment, then spoke again.
âGiorgio Chirico is nothing more than a bitter past for me. So why, sir knight, are you taking that old manâs sideââ
âHm. The reason is,â
Maximilian cut him off.
âBecause I feel like it.â
A reason without reason.
That one sentence silenced Valerius.
âIs that a problem?â
â.......â
Valeris felt as though a blade had been driven into the crown of his head. His brain buzzed and trembled.
A family capable of pressuring and crushing the Listmanns simply because it displeased them. And yet someone who could look down on him so calmly, from a distance so far above that it felt detached from his own withering reality.
âOf course, this retrial will add to my accomplishments. Worth a point. Maybe two, tops.â
Valerius felt the presence of a massive wall. One that could not be touched, reached, or even clearly seen.
âCompared to the theory you stole from Giorgio Chirico, it falls far short.â
Tap. Maximilian set down his teacup.
âMr. Valerius. I despise those who lie.â
Valeriusâs body flinched.
âSo Iâll ask you. Did you really not steal Giorgio Chiricoâs theory?â
â.......â
Valerius couldnât bring himself to speak.
Maximilian waited for a long time.
"That......."
A great many words gathered in his mouth, worries about the future, shame toward himself, anger at others, regrets like snowflakes piling up, but they failed to take on any coherent form.
Maximilian looked at him and twisted his lips.
âI hope youâll be able to speak in court.â
Before he knew it, a court officer had approached and helped Valerius to his feet.
"Escort him out politely."
âYes, sir.â
Valerius, supported by the officer, left the office.
âThud.
As the door closed behind him, he felt as if the ground had crumbled beneath his feet.
Suddenly, a thought came to him.
Was this how his old teacher had felt?
***
The retrial was held. The participants were the defense attorney, the prosecutor, the judge, Lorenzo, and numerous other witnesses.
I attended the trial in plain clothes. I even wore a hat and mask to avoid being recognized.
From a corner seat in the gallery, I intended to quietly observe how the trial would unfold.
âWe will now begin the retrial hearing at the Imperial Central Court for case number III R 1317/4103, defendant Giorgio Chirico.â
The judge declared the opening of court.
Lorenzoâs lawyer first argued for the defendantâs innocence in the past [Attempted Thesis Theft and Abuse of a Pupil] case and requested new witnesses. The judge, of course, accepted the request.
â......Over ten years ago, I gave false testimony in this court.â
Many figures from the past took the witness stand. They were the colleagues who had previously testified against Lorenzo.
They testified, ready to face perjury charges, that the theory claimed by Valerius was, in fact, the original work of Giorgio Chirico. They also confessed that Giorgio had never abused his student, and on the contrary, had used part of his salary to support them like a scholarship.
âYour Honor. As physical evidence, I submit peer review records from colleagues.â
The decisive piece of evidence was the peer review records. In the Magic Tower, there was a custom of discussing new theories with fellow scholars before publishing them. Giorgio, who enjoyed exchanging ideas with colleagues, had sent the draft of his theory to one of them for review even before Valerius had entered the Magic Tower.
One of those witnesses stood at the stand with the original documents he had kept all this time.
I watched them from the audience. In the front row was a familiar face.
â......Why is she here?â
Ezell. Wearing round glasses, she appeared to be meticulously documenting the trial in her notebook.
âIâm sorry! Iâm truly sorry, Giorgio!â
This time, the witness was Jerome. He repeatedly bowed his head to Lorenzo at the defendantâs seat and sobbed.
âBack then, I was truly blind...... consumed by envy and jealousy...... and afraid.......â
His apology wasnât only directed at Lorenzo. It was a desperate plea to save his own life.
Lorenzo looked on in silence, watching his former colleagueâs disgraceful display with a hardened face.
âThen, weâll proceed with the second hearing after the break.â
A short recess was declared.
I stepped out to the rear of the courthouse.
Tap. Tap. Lorenzo also approached, leaning on his cane.
âValerius Listmann will be here soon.â
At my words, Lorenzo gave a bitter smile. Valerius was to appear as a witness in this trial.
Heâll come and say something, whatever it is.
âSir Knight. The new workshop you built for me is far better than the lab I used to use at the Magic Tower. Just how much did you pour into it?â
âNot much. Time has simply passed. Equipment from fifteen years ago is now nothing more than junk.â
It was satisfying. In truth, I had spent a lot. I built the entire facility with the best equipment possible.
Lorenzo and Arman were talents worthy of that investment.
âThank you. Sir Maximilian.â
His gratitude was sincere.
âWith this, I feel Iâve already been compensated enough.â
I looked at Lorenzo.
The fall of Listmann had been inevitable. Mana coils had already become commonplace technology, and their petty patent royalties would soon come to an end.
On top of that, they would have to pay Lorenzo astronomical damages, something that couldnât be repaid even if the family were sold off.
âI understand your intentions, Sir Knight. The strong submit to the stronger, and power is broken by greater power.......â
Lorenzo gave a gentle smile. Beneath the sunlight, leaf-like wrinkles formed deeply at the corners of his eyes.
âBut I am nothing more than an old scholar raising a single student, and Valerius was once my pupil as well.â
He looked like a kind grandfather.
The sort of man who, if met in the neighborhood someday, would offer a cookie and a cup of milk to a hungry child, to a runaway like me before Regression...
âSo I wish for nothing more than this.â
I smiled faintly and nodded.
âYes.â
If one wishes to escape the cycle of hatred, then only when they themselves have become the strong can they choose to break it.
âConvey your will in court.â
Many people, intoxicated by the fruit of revenge, fail to summon that kind of courage,
But good people always strive to find a better way.