Starting the next day, I became busy.
For the first time in my life… I was going to become independent.
In the past, I had always felt suffocated inside the Ebenholtz main residence,
yet I never once considered leaving.
I believed that if I ran away from that place, I would escape my father's gaze forever.
What an idiot I was.
The first thing I did was check my personal account.
There was far more money than I expected.
—How is there this much?
18.7 million dollars.
The equivalent of seven or eight years of salary for an average knight.
It was most likely a legal transfer.
Part of it would be the inheritance left behind by my late mother.
The rest… a formal sum granted by the family upon reaching adulthood.
Sebastien von Ebenholtz had never cared much about me,
but he was not the kind of man to neglect the dignity of the family name.
Money was always useful.
And now… more than ever.
To change the future, I needed much more of it.
I still lacked power.
And money… was one form of power.
Even the Ebenholtz did not possess limitless wealth.
Compared to some of the other "pillars" of the Empire, they were rather modest.
—The greatest advantage of my regression…
Information.
That was my greatest weapon.
So I decided to keep half of the funds for investments.
With the other half…
I would buy a house.
***
I drove straight to a real estate office.
[Imperial Realty Office R]
—...Welcome.
The owner, who had been eating lunch inside, hurriedly stood up.
I looked around at the massive maps of the capital covering the walls.
—How may I assist you?
—I'm looking to purchase a residence.
I wanted a mansion not too far from Sentinel headquarters.
There were apartments and luxury mansions available…
but I needed a place of my own.
A space I would not have to share with anyone.
—I see.
—Kleinschmidt Street would be the finest area.
He pointed at a section of the map.
[Imperial Capital Arcadia - District 3 - von Kleinschmidt Street, No. 13]
From there, the Epsilon River could be seen in full view.
A prime location.
Which was precisely why properties there rarely went on sale.
But with the Empire's recent political changes…
someone was bound to sell.
—Ah… there are no properties available in that area.
He was lying.
It was obvious from the way he said it.
—There aren't?
I deliberately shortened my words as I stared at him.
—I suggest you check again.
The man scanned me once more.
I was dressed casually, but my clothes were top quality.
He might not recognize my face.
But he would recognize the luxury brand Geronimo.
—Ah… yes. There is one property that was recently listed.
—Show me.
—Yes. It is near that district… although…
He handed me a photograph.
Broken windows.
Part of the outer wall destroyed.
The building clearly showed signs of violence.
I understood immediately.
The owner of this house was likely not a pure imperial.
And had probably committed some "minor mistake."
The Empire's racial policies had grown harsher by the day.
Even descendants of foreigners naturalized generations ago—
people loyal to the Empire—
had become targets.
Especially the Merin, wealthy merchant bloodlines of foreign descent.
And the newly rising power, the Imperial Guard, coveted their fortunes.
—As you can see… it requires extensive repairs.
—I don't mind. I'll buy it.
The broker ran a hand through his hair, bewildered.
—Where is the owner?
—Ah… well… that is…
He glanced at me sideways and sighed.
—I really shouldn't say this, but the property is… tied up.
—Tied up?
—Someone claims to already hold confiscation rights over it.
Exactly as expected.
I smiled faintly.
—Who?
—Baron Rodriguez. A member of the Imperial Guard.
My temple throbbed.
I knew that name.
***
"I am Rodriguez. A pleasure to meet you, Sir Maximilian."
I had met him before my regression.
A high-ranking officer of the Imperial Guard.
A man who looted wealth by every possible means in order to climb higher.
***
—I see.
—It would be wiser not to involve yourself…
The broker still had not recognized me.
He had not even asked my name.
He merely assumed I was some rich noble's son.
—You should head home for today—
—Listen carefully. My name is Maximilian von Ebenholtz.
—...Eh? E-Ebenholtz?
His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.
In Arcadia, the imperial capital…
the name Ebenholtz was nearly untouchable.
At the very least, low-ranking nobles who preyed on others' property would not dare interfere.
—I am also a newly inducted Sentinel knight.
Rodriguez was filth.
Most of the Imperial Guard were.
Parasites obsessed with the Emperor who accelerated the Empire's downfall.
They needed to be uprooted while still seedlings.
—Knights maintain the Empire's order. Yet this idea of "confiscation rights" seems highly suspicious. I believe I should investigate it.
One of a knight's duties was preserving imperial order.
And he… was precisely the vermin corrupting it.
Perhaps I could make him one of my first accomplishments.
—But do not reveal my name.
A form of undercover work.
Cockroaches hide when a human enters.
Yes.
Rodriguez was exactly like a cockroach.
***
Baron Rodriguez had recently become a rising noble within the Empire.
Originally from an insignificant border family.
But years ago, he captured a senior member of the revolutionary faction.
For that achievement, he was selected into the Imperial Guard and entered central politics.
From then on, he used his true talent:
Tracking foreign capital within the Empire.
Exposing tax evasion and "illegal acts" among those who were not pure Imperials.
Turning harmless matters into criminal offenses.
The Imperial Guard loved that.
And Rodriguez rose rapidly.
***
—A mansion?
Rodriguez lazily skimmed the report handed to him by his butler.
His office was filled with expensive artworks stolen or purchased for scraps.
—Yes. Someone has expressed interest in the Kleinschmidt Street property.
—Who?
—The broker says he seems to be a young noble.
—Any details?
—He did not ask. But he is looking for a residence near knight headquarters. Likely a newcomer. There were recent induction ceremonies for the Sentinels, Lotus—
—How ridiculous.
Rodriguez scoffed.
The knights still held public prestige.
But real power would soon shift to the Imperial Guard.
That was the Emperor's will.
If the knights were the Empire's sword…
the Imperial Guard was the hand gripping the hilt.
—And that Merlin fellow is still resisting?
—Yes. He has not confessed.
Merlin.
The Merin owner of the mansion.
Putting the house up for sale was merely a formality under pressure.
No one would buy it.
Its price would collapse.
Then it would be bought cheaply in a rigged auction.
—I'm busy this week. I'll deal with it next week.
—You will go personally?
The butler sounded surprised.
It was rare for a baron to handle something so trivial himself.
—Of course. They say he is a knight. It would be useful to know him. And if conflict arises… better that I handle it personally.
—Understood. Rest well.
The butler left.
Rodriguez poured red wine until the glass was full.
He watched the liquid sway.
A smile formed on his lips.
This promised to be entertaining.
***
The meeting was set for the following week.
I was in no rush.
Rodriguez owed me time.
And that day… I would collect.
***
—...All of these people are my instructors?
Today was the day to receive my gift.
In the great training hall of the Ebenholtz estate, ten swordsmen stood in formation.
The new "swordsmanship instructor" I had requested from Sebastien von Ebenholtz.
—Not all of them.
Engi smiled.
—You need only choose one.
I examined the candidates.
Each radiated the presence of a true warrior.
—They have passed rigorous testing. Written review and live combat evaluation.
I recognized nine of the ten.
Seven were former knights fanatically loyal to the Empire.
The other two…
faces I had seen far too many times in newspapers of the future.
High-ranking revolutionaries.
Dangerous.
I should not get close to them yet.
The other seven did not interest me either.
So my gaze moved to the last one.
I did not recognize her.
And I remembered faces well.
I had no choice.
Years spent fleeing had forced me to memorize faces in order to survive.
—Hmm…
She wore simple training clothes.
No sword.
Unarmed.
A woman.
She wore a hood, and beneath it…
her appearance seemed ordinary.
Even aged.
—What is your name?
On the battlefield, the elderly and children are dangerous.
And among many strong people…
the most dangerous one is the one no one knows.
—Priya.
I decided to choose her.