The Counterintelligence Command is fundamentally competent. In fact, it remains one of the few effective departments within this country’s administrative sectors. (All departments that surpass its capabilities were utterly torn apart during the recent coup.)

Naturally, a competent department is always busy. Aside from a few exceptional leaders like Alexander, a reasonable administrator never allows a capable department to sit idle.

As a result, the Counterintelligence Command continually faced a shortage of manpower, regardless of the changing seasons, time, and years. Even with personnel turnover, they were still lacking, resorting to outsourcing, and supplementing their intelligence network with money.

Thus, they couldn’t even discharge agents with missing legs. If they had a fully functional arm and had no issues with hearing, speaking, or writing, they could at least manage desk work, right? (They wouldn’t have discharged anyone even if they had lost both legs and one arm.)

In fact, reemploying disabled veterans would be considered an extraordinary initiative for Krasilov.

As a result, Dmitry was still an “active” agent today.

“Lieutenant Colonel, shall we brew some tea?”

He had become an absolute power (Colonel) who could order Pavel, who was still a lieutenant colonel, with just a nod.

“My leg is like this.”

While smiling weakly from his wheelchair.

“So, where did we leave off? Ah right, did I mention that I saved one of our agents with my astonishing agility and ended up resting for a while under that blasted tree branch?”

Ivan quietly nodded his head. He had sought to hear about the Kalion situation after Dmitry fainted, only to have him start boasting about his exploits right in the middle of a fierce battle.

Even when a comrade who had risked his life to fight together with him repeated the same story five times, he was too tender-hearted to say, “Cut the nonsense and get to the conclusion.” (This is true.)

He decided to quietly drink his tea and keep pace with Dmitry’s rhythm. After all, the night was long, and Pavel was handling the work.

“I didn’t come back to see such a scene.”

Pavel sighed deeply, buried under a pile of documents. Having been born a non-combatant and originally being unrelated to intelligence work, he was again forced to pull an all-nighter for paperwork.

“Don’t you think it’s absurd for you to even think about hitting up your senior?”

“My only senior among the Guards is Senior Ivan.”

“Aren’t you a soldier? Shouldn’t we count based on the date of enlistment?”

“Oh, I’m not from the military branch; I’m from the administration. The Counterintelligence Command had been part of the administrative office since the days of the War Intelligence Bureau.”

Dmitry, grinning and sipping tea in front of him, pointed at his own legs with a mischievous grin.

“If you’re jealous… you know what I mean, right?”

When asked whether he’d be willing to amputate a leg to earn a commendation, Pavel pounded his chest and whimpered.

Dmitri was promoted to Colonel and appointed as the commander of the Counterintelligence Command. This promotion was more of a favor from Elizaveta for rescuing Ivan than a recognition of his achievements.

“Now that I’m a Colonel like our senior, should I arrange for some tea?”

“Dmitri.”

“Yes, senior?”

“You didn’t come here to relax.”

“Uh, no? I thought you had run away because our Majesty squeezed you too hard.”

Despite Dmitri’s irreverent remark, Ivan silently took a sip of his tea. Recently, Dmitri kept making ‘married man’ jokes, which were far from the objective truth.

He had no plans to get married, nor did he ever intend to.

If Elizaveta heard this, she would surely be heartbroken, bursting into tears and then thinking of sentencing him to life imprisonment, but it was the truth.

Not only did he lack the confidence to make someone happy, but his objectives had always remained consistent.

Even though he was now in a situation where he had half given up, the reason he had risked his life until now was solely one.

Returning to his hometown.

The image of his hometown had mostly faded. Its colors remained only faintly, like trying to grasp at the descriptions in a collection of folktales.

But regardless of whether it was genuinely what he desired or not, the goals he had built up over many years had become a kind of truth embedded in his life, even aside from their purpose.

Having given up, having failed, yet it was still a truth he had never forgotten.

Taking that aside, if everything went according to his plan and he ended up receiving the curse of the Seven Dragon Generals, what would happen to him?

As someone who barely measured up to half of Maximilian, he could confidently assert that day would be the end for him.

Therefore, he could not give Elizaveta false hope with his limited time left. That would be too cruel.

“Anyway, back then, one of those fools was stupidly standing there and nearly got crushed, so before I knew it, my body just moved. You know? That devotion to send the sons of the nation back to their homeland? Loyalty? With that feeling, I suddenly surged forward, and went in.”

In the battle with Senas Geor, outside the Eternal Palace, the survivors of the Cleanup Unit and the warriors of the Swordsmanship Faction were risking their lives to draw the enemy’s attention.

At that time, the survivors of the Cleanup Unit were just three in total, including Dmitri. To save one of them, Dmitri took a hit from an incoming attack and collapsed.

He shoved that foolish junior aside and got pinned under a huge tree branch, losing both legs.

Amid the pain, he gritted his teeth and barely managed to hold onto his sword.

“I can see my senior getting roughed up from a distance, and that unlucky ear-elf queen is floating in the sky, mocking my senior as a country bumpkin without any weapon or manners, isn’t she?”

“I think we should strive for a more objective account.”

“While that’s not exactly wrong, I, as a junior, was so furious that I yelled out, ‘You heard me, right?'”

The Cleanup Unit is an army even when standing alone.

Dmitri laughed heartily and threw his sword with all his might. Just as he intended, Ivan was able to catch the sword flying toward him and continue the fight.

Ivan nodded, recalling that moment, and spoke with gratitude.

“Can we move on to the conclusion now?”

“I feel really upset and my legs are aching. Oh, I don’t have legs. That’s weird.”

“Phantom pain can be treated physically.”

“Shall I get straight to the point? Let’s stick to the six questions according to the Cleanup Unit style.”

Dmitri quickly adjusted his uncomfortable posture, gulped down his tea, and continued.

“Right, you executed that bastard Alexander in style and then fainted, right? So, I first cut off your wrist to perform a mana diagnosis and then burned your body to scatter it in the sea.”

“Hmm.”

“After that, Sir Cohenulf stood up in the Privy Council and declared he would hunt down those who would cause chaos! Then he accurately killed three elves trying to make a scene.”

“Hmm.”

“And then, what? The Privy Council Chairman, that old man, somewhat managed the situation, and I, as the plenipotentiary ambassador, received a non-aggression treaty in exchange for keeping the events that transpired in Kalion under wraps….”

The fall of Kalion surpassed the scale that could be concealed. The Seven Dragon Generals crushed the capital of the nation, and there was no way this could be hidden.

Moreover, Kalion is a center of maritime trade. It’s impossible to enforce silence on all trading ships crossing the sea.

So, when rumors spread, if the weakening of the elves becomes widely known, those with other intentions might gradually appear.

For instance, the ‘inland’ elves who had been arrogant might realize they no longer have backing.

While navigating normally in coastal waters, they might start asserting that passing through their maritime border is subject to ‘taxation’ and try to collect ‘tolls’ with ‘cannons.’

Perhaps, they would start contemplating creating a better international port instead of Kalion, where the tax rate for trade mediation is already high.

Or, they might start controlling resources heading toward Kalion after shooting down all airships, which would essentially lead to the demise of Kalion.

Among these, the most fatal means for Kalion’s Privy Council would be the last part.

“I mentioned that dwarf artillery is scheduled to be installed all over the Tylesse port.”

Dmitri said with a sly smile.

“Are they really going to confirm that fact right now? The Tylesse defense is mostly running while indebted to us, and coincidentally, there’s the dwarf princess there?”

The existence of Rundis itself serves as evidence that Krasilov has teamed up with the dwarves.

Dwarves reportedly have records of shooting down airships even during wartime. Krasilov is already widely known for large-scale artillery operations, but the dwarves operated on a different level.

Those little devils operate city-sized military factories and are known for being insane war enthusiasts. Krasilov has also been famous for being a mad warmonger even before the Great War.

The commonality between the insane warmonger and the gunpowder enthusiast is that the alliance between Krasilov and the dwarves is evident in the eyes of the elves.

– Here lies the peace of our time.

One cannot help but feel a strange horror from a butcher from Krasilov—smiling while bleeding from a freshly severed leg.

– No airships can be launched beyond the coastal border… that is, not even a meter inland. All coastal cities will be armed with anti-aircraft weapons, and at the intermediary trading port of Tylesse, Krasilov’s garrison will be stationed.

As long as we do not face an airship attack, the elves will never be able to influence the united kingdom through military force.

– Any type of military display attempting to land against this agreement will be met with shelling.

– Isn’t that just as good as a declaration of war?

– Would you be satisfied if I brought a declaration of war? The declaration of war between Krasilov, Tylesse, and the dwarves will never state that all of Kalion is the enemy.

Even in times of war, the united kingdom has never truly been one in the “true sense.” The divergence in positions between countries in direct contact with the front line and those in the rear providing support was too stark.

Despite the certainty that civilization would be destroyed upon defeat, the supporting countries relatively “leisurely” supplied military supplies. In fact, it is unavoidable. If an entire nation is managed as if it were the frontline waging total war, it would collapse immediately.

Numerous minor nations could not withstand this and disappeared.

What of those countries capable of maintaining the front line? Among the four strong nations, Tylesse, Drovian, and Krasilov, which are directly touching the front line, do not differ significantly.

Unlike those who fought bravely at the front, the nobles who handled military support in the rear indulged in luxury and pleasure even amidst it all.

War is fundamentally wrapped in the corpses of the righteous. The righteous die, and only the selfish survive to form the current united kingdom.

And this is no different in Kalion.

– So, would the “noble” nobles of this country gather around the round table and chat amicably as they do now, even then?

If war is declared, can we guarantee that those elves will not prey on their kin?

Moreover, this war has no relation to destruction. Unlike the war against magical beasts, this is merely an economic or political war happening within the united kingdom.

Naturally, the factions that suffer “relative” harm were bound to participate “relatively” half-heartedly.

– Therefore, truly, according to the words of our late king.

– Peace is not something that is seized by the sword, right?

With that, Dmitri was able to leave with a pleasant smile.

Kalion has collapsed. The elves undeniably possess formidable military and economic power, but they will never again wield control over the inland as they did in the past.

The royal family that could mediate this has fallen, the milestone that promised a future for the elves has disappeared, and on the inland side, forces are prepared to counter the airships.

At this point, when the magic of “civil war prohibition” guaranteed by the Milestone has vanished.

The Elf Societies can no longer abide by peace under the system of the Privy Council, especially to monopolize the remaining resources.

Therefore, the almost only authority that can currently thwart the Privy Council has sent Oswald to the Privy Councilor. He is engaged to the daughter of the Privy Councilor and is himself a son of the Council.

“Unofficially, it seems that a spy asset has now been planted within Kalion.”

“Excellent.”

Ivan nodded his head pleasantly. It was an impeccable decision.

As long as the elves’ attention is not diverted inland, they will be one of the most powerful forces to deter demon creatures.

After all, it was once one of the great powers, known as the strongest of the Alliance Kingdoms at one time.

“So, isn’t everyone enjoying peace right now? How wonderful it is that everyone is quiet.”

Dmitri happily remarked as he spoke of the long-awaited peace of the continent.

Pavel, while reviewing a bloodshot intelligence report, coughed up blood upon hearing those words.

*

“The Universal Council. How long has it been?”

“It’s a matter worthy of it, Saint.”

“At least call me Dean within the school?”

Patricia gently smiled as she unfolded a letter stamped with the Pope’s seal.

“I need to gather the initiates. Thank you, Brother.”

“Yes, Dean. Have a good night.”

The priest bowed deeply and stepped back. As the door closed smoothly, Patricia smiled while watering the shrub on the pot.

“I should seek permission from Sister Elize.”

With a hint of regret for her friend who was currently in a honeymoon mood.

“I’m a bit excited since it’s been a while for traveling.”

With a bit of anticipation for the journey with an old friend…

Ep33. Intermediate Period.

A word from the author (Author’s note): The promise of weekend serialization must be kept.

*

I was surprised.

I thought I was writing a very hopeful story!!

Through the majestic appearance of the virtuous who do not kneel before any despair in the world, as I always say, even so, they never kneel, they seek stars by parting the despair-filled sky.

Isn’t it a wonderfully hopeful and happy classical hero tale?

This novel is certainly not a despair piece.

That is a great misunderstanding. Despair and bloodshed are replaced with happiness and hope.