Semi-Coercive Imperialist-Chapter 132: The Face of the Empire (5)

The vast open sea of Volska. Atop the decks of two ships nearly touching bow to bow, Hannah readjusted her grip on her sword.

I looked her up and down. The bleeding was severe, and with every breath she took, a sound leaked out as though bone were piercing lung.

"Is it just the two of us?"

Hannah asked. She looked like she was desperately hoping it wasn’t, but her eyes were alive like a beast’s.

I gestured behind me with a glance.

"The Empire maintains order through strength."

If anyone tries to break the weak simply because they believe themselves strong, they must be prepared to be broken in turn someday. Because they are never the only one who is strong.

Yet because everyone in the Empire knows this, they invented "agreements" within its walls. Since survival of the fittest is the logic of beasts, they erected the convenient excuse called "justification".

"And."

I let a faint smile cross my face.

"We have the justification to set that order right."

HOOOOOOOONN────!

A foghorn suddenly shook the sea. The dense fog churned and slowly lifted. Beyond the curtain of mist, silhouettes of steel revealed themselves.

One, two, three, four.......

Warships, encircling the towed vessel from all sides.

Canilan standard-issue military ships. Raw force backed by pure capital.

"Hannah~ Max~ Hi~"

From atop them, Leon waved cheerfully, grinning wide.

─.......

The guardsmen were silent. The red glow behind the slits of their helms dimmed faintly.

“Now then, from here on out, I’ll give you a chance to choose.”

I let my longsword hang at an angle. There was no need to cross blades with them.

"If a shell is fired and this ship sinks, can you survive out here?"

The Imperial Royal Guard's armor was special. To prevent capture and to stop deserters from fleeing, it was bound with magic that made it absolutely impossible to remove by oneself.

But precisely because of that, the guardsmen were chained to solid ground, and since their density was heavier than water, falling into the sea meant certain drowning.

"The vessels you prepared for escape have already been seized."

Every route of retreat had been completely severed.

"So then, why don't you take off your helmets quietly."

The helmet was the one exception in the guardsmen's armor. It alone could be detached, for the sake of breathing and eating. But to have one's helmet removed was considered a tremendous disgrace among them.

─Do you think Ebenholtz can strip a Centurion’s helmet helmet and walk away unscathed?

The Centurion warned in a strained voice. A worthless scrap of pride.

I drew a calm breath.

"Listen carefully."

Whoooooosh──.

A cold sea wind rushed in and tousled my hair.

“I’m Maximilian of Ebenholtz, and even if you add up everything all of you have, you still don’t measure up to me.”

Looking down on them with open arrogance, I spoke.

"You don't even reach the tips of my toes."

A truth that would never change within this Empire.

"It means you, born as leeches crawling on the ground, are of a different breed from the start."

As the heir of Ebenholtz, as a human being rather than a cog of the Empire, the way I saw it, the guardsmen were nothing more than another class of commoners raised inside the Imperial Palace.

No, perhaps they were slaves.

─This crazy–!

One of the guardsmen flew into a rage and stepped forward, but.

─Stop.

The Centurion restrained him.

─......Hah.

He let out a sigh as though swallowing humiliation whole, then removed his own helmet with his own hands.

I gazed at his exposed bare face with indifference.

"Even for someone like you, it would be best not to meddle too deeply in the affairs of the Imperial Palace."

A reasonable statement. The Imperial Palace operated on an entirely different set of rules and hierarchies of status from the outside world.

That was precisely why I had come prepared with a document.

"Do you still think I'm alone in this?"

Flutter. Carried by the wind, it drifted toward the Centurion – a writ declaring full support for the Hannah Usar case and strongly condemning acts harmful to the Empire. Beneath it, the signature of Reutern II, inscribed clearly.

"......."

People commonly mistake the Imperial Royal Guard for an organization that serves the Emperor alone, but the reality is different. They protect the entire den that is the Imperial Palace, and they are people born and raised within it. They are beings steeped to the bone in the factional wars and political maneuvering of the nobility.

In that regard, Reutern, purely in terms of clout, was unquestionably positioned at the very top among the nobles of the Imperial Palace. A man born of quite pure royal blood.

Which meant his faction was powerful enough to crush the one called "Julius" that this Centurion served.

"Reutern......."

The Centurion's pupils shook after reading the document.

He narrowed his brow slightly, seeming puzzled by the "II" appended after the name, but even so, he could not deny the weight it carried.

"......Understood. Send us back to the Empire."

The Centurion had removed his helmet, and the remaining guardsmen had lost their will to fight.

The operation was over.

* * *

In the Imperial Palace. Reutern I had received significant news from Volska.

A report that the will of his son, Reutern II, had brought a certain "matter" to the surface.

"Lord Reutern. What will you do?"

His trusted aide asked cautiously. Their opponent was the faction of Julius, which held considerable power even within the Imperial Palace. A head-on collision would be quite burdensome even for the House Reutern.

Yet Reutern I's eyes gleamed as he scrutinized every detail of the document his son had signed and the circumstances underlying it.

“There’s ample justification.”

The crime of embezzling weapons under the cover of the chaos from the Gigantes terror incident, then smuggling them to drain the nation's wealth. With justification this flawless, they could well choke the life out of their enemies.

Of course, Julius had not originally been their political rival, but.......

"......Ha, well. That boy."

Reutern I found himself suddenly overcome with emotion he hadn't expected.

'Everyone in the Imperial Palace whispers behind my son's back, calling him a reckless fool. Being his father doesn't mean I'm deaf to their mockery.'

But Reutern I was no mere blind, doting parent. As a statesman who measured the worth of men, he had long since seen through to the "ambition" carved deep within his son.

A child who had loved playing at soldiers and devising war strategies since he was small.

'The precious bloodline I had finally, belatedly gained at nearly fifty years of age, after two miscarriages. A brilliant boy who mirrored my younger self as though reflected in a glass.'

That was why.

"So you're finally ready to awaken......."

It was unthinkable that this noble royal bloodline would lack ambition.

'Could it be that all the debauchery until now had been an elaborate act to deceive his enemies?'

Either way.

"At last, you're breaking through the shell."

Reutern I steadied his swelling heart and clenched his fist tight.

"As his father, all I can do is give my full support. Rally the full might of the royal house and guard that boy's back."

"Yes, sir. I will see it done."

The gallant figure of a royal heir forging his own path to power and purging the treacherous.

Father Reutern was so proud he could have wept.

.......

In the lavish annex of Reutern II.

Scratch, scratch.

He was sprawled across a plush sofa, idly scratching his belly.

"Ah, I'm hungry."

He yawned wide and rolled over.

"......Should I go out."

Lilac Vita. The food there was incredible. Should I go back and eat there again.

He picked up the terminal from the table. Pressed the number.

Ring-ring- Ring-ring-

Max wasn't a⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠nswering.

"Ah, damn it, why isn't he picking up. I don't wanna eat in the Palace."

The world assumes the Imperial Palace serves up lavish feasts of warm delicacies every single day, but that's bullshit. With all the fuss over poison testing and inspections, most of the food arrives cold and mangled – at a glance, it looks like scraps.

"Oh, right. He said he went to Volkas."

Volkas, Volkas.......

For the record, i⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠t was Volska, not Volkas, but anyway.

"Tonkatsu?"

Something about it reminded him of tonkatsu. A dish that had suddenly come in from somewhere out west and was catching on across the Empire lately.

"I'm craving it."

Everyone outside was raving about how good it was.

"Hmm-hmm~"

Reutern II quickly sat himself up.

"Hey! Get me ready to go out!"

He called in his escort knight, getting dressed with a silly gr⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠in on his face. Still, having "tonkatsu outing" as the reason for leaving would be kind of embarrassing, so he threw on a robe too. Concealed his identity.

"Volkas. Wonder what kind of food it has......."

.......

Meanwhile, in yet another annex of the Imperial Palace.

"Reutern, that little son of a bitch–!"

Julius, who had been embezzling wealth by writing off Gigantes stockpiles as total losses, hurled his chair without thinking at the report from his subordinates. Crash! Its legs snapped as it tumbled across the floor in pieces.

"......Lord Julius."

On his table lay the document scrawled with Reutern II's signature.

Regarding this Hannah Usar case, strongly condemning those who endanger the Empire.......

"Why the fuck is that bastard – that babbling moron who's done nothing but act like an idiot – why is he suddenly pulling this shit!"

CRASH!

This time he hurled an ashtray. Ash and glass shards exploded across the room.

"That imbecile who's dumber than a dolphin – what the hell's gotten into him."

He gritted his teeth, muttering through them as he clutched fistfuls of his own hair.

"God fucking damn it......."

Even within the Imperial Palace, there existed a hierarchy – a pyramid. Royalty stood very near the top.

In that respect, the royals Julius and Reutern had an unspoken agreement not to touch one another.

Yet that bastard had suddenly s⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠truck at his most sensitive vulnerability, joining forces with the Knight Order to drive the blade straight in.

If Reutern threw his protection behind the Sentinel, the resulting force would not be easy to fend off.

"Where did Reutern II go?"

"He is reported to have left the Imperial Palace with his escort knight. Given that he departed without a word and concealed his identity, it appears he may have already linked up fully with the Sentinel...... sir."

"......."

Julius fell silent. In that deathly stillness where every one of his subordinates had gone pale and hung their heads low,

"Well, fuck."

Profanity unbecoming of royal dignity settled like cigarette smoke.

.......

"Whoa, what is this?"

A famous tonkatsu restaurant on the outskirts of the capital. Reutern II held his knife and fork, his eyes round as saucers.

"The taste is weirdly interesting. Well, I'll be."

Crunch.

Thick pork coated in breadcrumbs and flour, deep-fried in oil – an exquisite dish. Who on earth came up with a cooking method like this.

These lowly commoners, whatever else you might say about them, they sure know how to make food.

─Hey! How old are you? Huh?!

Just then, a vicious shout erupted from one corner of the restaurant.

─Is this how you run a business? You fuck!

A belligerent drunk had grabbed a server by the collar and was making a scene.

"Ugh, that halfwit. I'm trying to eat and he's making all that noise."

Reutern II scrunched his face in irritation and set down his knife. Annoyance surged through h⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠im.

He jerked his chin toward the escort knight behind him.

"Hey."

"Sir."

"Get rid of that asshole."

"Sir."

The escort knight was already walking before the word left his lips.

─Motherfucker, come outside, you, ugh, GAAAH! Hrk!

The wet sound of friction gave way to a strangled scream. The escort knight casually wrenched the man's joint, then tossed his large frame aside like a sack of cargo.

"Delicious."

Reutern picked up his fork again and stuffed the remaining tonkatsu heartily into his mouth.

"Hey. Another plate of this."

He pointed at the empty plate as the escort knight returned, issuing his order.

“Yes.”

The escort was about to take his place at the very back of the long line in front of the counter, when–

"No, hey! What are you doing!"

Reutern II barked in irritation. The escort blinked back at him, bewildered.

"Sir?"

"Don't wait in line, just ask for it. Who's got time for that."

“......Yes.”

The escort glanced around, then shouldered past the commoners to the front of the line. Perhaps as payment for dealing with the troublemaker, no one objected.

* * *

The Empire, Sentinel Knight Order headquarters.

Hannah had returned safely with the evidence of weapons smuggling recovered from Volska.

"Phew."

She took a deep breath in front of Maximilian's office.

──Knock, knock.

She knocked on the door and entered Maximilian's office.

"Sir."

Maximilian gestured toward the seat in front of him without lifting his eyes from his documents. Hannah went and stood before him.

"Did you submit the evidence?"

"Yes. I handed everything over to the officers outside."

"Good work. Once this case is fully resolved, your name will be at the top of the commendation list."

To Maximilian's dry praise.

Hannah bowed her head.

"Thank you." 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

It was the courtesy she owed for her superior's consideration, yet the words lingering on her lips felt somehow hollow.

"No need for thanks."

Maximilian raised his gaze to look at her. His Golden Eyes saw through Hannah's exhaustion at a glance.

"In the end, everything is–"

"–for the Empire."

Hannah murmured, almost cutting off his next words. Maximilian let out a small smirk.

"You know it well."

"Yes. I, but, sir......."

She stared at Maximilian for a moment.

The cold sea of Volska, a space choked with fog. The flash of his silver blade as it mercilessly severed Gale's neck. That "face", fallen on the deck, kept flickering before her eyes.

"What happens to Sir Gale, then......"

"He'll be stripped of everything. His family will likely have to leave the Empire too. That's the end that awaits a criminal. A knight of the Empire must never submit to the Imperial Palace, nor volunteer to be its slave."

"......."

Hannah lowered her gaze. A senior knight she had believed would guide her, as a fellow commoner.

But he had thrown his junior into the jaws of death for the sake of his own advancement, and now he lay sunk beneath the cold sea.

"Was there...... a better way."

Hannah murmured suddenly, her tone laced with self-derision.

Maximilian set down his pen. He looked at Hannah steadily.

"......You said something like that before, too."

A fragment of memory from two years ago flickered through his mind.

When he had severed the neck of the Ezenheim cadet Jacob, seventeen-year-old Hannah had murmured those reproachful words.

"There must have been a better way. There must have."

Maximilian rose from his seat.

Slowly, he walked to her side.

"My answer is always the same."

He placed a hand gently on her bandaged shoulder.

"......."

Hannah looked up at Maximilian in silence.

He was a man who never wavered.

A man who knew where he was going, who followed nothing but the greater cause, pressing onward without end.

A knight who had honed his convictions sharp as a blade through absolute faith in himself.

He repeated those words to her.

"This is that way."