Do Your Own Revolution

#053

[I ordered the soldiers to open fire. I couldn’t stand by and watch my subordinates die at the hands of the angry crowd. I pray my decision was the right one.]

[Seeing their comrades’ bodies being torn apart by citizens’ spears and swords, the soldiers under my command began losing their minds one by one. This isn’t good. Lieutenant Paul tried desperately to stop them, but it seemed futile.]

[A young girl walking down the street collapsed after being hit by a soldier’s bullet. No. Someone needs to save that child.]

[The dead girl’s father was wailing at me. The crowd’s anger reached its peak, and the situation became irreversible.]

[The people’s uprising is over. What’s happening before my eyes now is a horrific massacre. Soldiers bearing the empire’s crest were slaughtering citizens. This was the result of my choice.]

[Lieutenant Paul, my adjutant, lost his life to a rebel sniper. He was an upright man who insisted until the end that we must protect the citizens. Why? Why did he have to lose his life?]

[The mob impaled the Lieutenant’s head on a spear.]

[A flag was fluttering beneath Lieutenant Paul’s head. These worthless scum crying out for an impossible revolution. My mind became crystal clear. Everything has come to this because of those bastards.]

[I ordered the armored train on standby to open fire. It took less than a minute for thousands of rioters to turn into pieces of flesh. Ah, poor Lieutenant Paul. May this somewhat appease his grudge.]

[I smashed the head of a rioter begging for his life. Though he claimed innocence with his mouth, this one must surely be an undercover rebel informant. Filthy rebel scum. Think I’d fall for that?]

[I equipped the surviving soldiers with flamethrowers and had them search every corner of the territory. Not a single rebel should be spared from being burned alive. Remembering Lieutenant Paul’s screams, these vermin’s cries were nothing.]

[I looked around at the countless corpses of the rebels. An inexplicable disgust swirled inside me.]

[Why was I here? Why did I put on this uniform? I don’t know. I can’t remember anymore.]

[While hanging the surviving rebels on streetlamps, someone was approaching. Eugene Lorentz. A vermin the rebels were praising as a hero.]

…

……

………

“Eugene, what are you thinking so deeply about?”

“……Ah.”

When I came to my senses, the pristine conference room came into full view.

The one looking at me was Feilun.

At the opposite end, in the seat of honor, Baron Zicklinte was smiling with satisfaction.

“Nothing. Just lost in thought for a moment.”

“Spacing out during a meeting? That’s not like you.”

“I apologize.”

What was that just now?

I don’t understand why content I’ve never seen in the game suddenly started flooding into my mind.

But my confusion didn’t last long.

Baron Zicklinte, who had risen from his seat, extended his hand toward Feilun.

“With the Imperial Army being so cooperative, House Zicklinte can rest easy. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear yesterday’s slip of the tongue.”

“Thank you.”

With a smiling face, Feilun grasped and shook the Baron’s hand.

Ultimately, the Imperial Army accepted all of Baron Zicklinte’s demands.

They were tasked with defending the outskirts of the Zicklinte mansion and key strong points from the rioters.

“The rebels’ main force consists only of mages dispatched from headquarters anyway. Our house’s knights can handle that much.”

When the Baron said this, the four knights standing by his side briefly bowed their heads.

Three-stroke imprints.

The same formation I’d seen in the game.

“Then we’ll head to the site to deploy our forces. However…”

“Hmm?”

Just before heading to their respective positions after concluding the meeting.

Feilun stopped at the door and spoke to the Baron.

“Unless they launch a preemptive attack against the defense forces, citizens in the streets are territorial subjects, not rioters. Do you agree on this point?”

“Ha, I wondered what you were going to say.”

The Baron waved his hand dismissively.

“It’s not like I want to destroy valuable labor with guns and swords. Those who charge at our defense forces. Just catch those ones.”

“…Understood. Then, excuse us.”

And so, Feilun and the Baron parted ways, leaving meaningful smiles behind.

“Hahaha! What a fool. ‘Unless they launch a preemptive attack’? He must spout such nonsense because he’s never dealt with rioters before!”

…That idiot.

Does he think his voice won’t carry once the door is closed?

***

“It was certainly a rash action. It could have been considered treason if things had gone wrong.”

While deploying troops as agreed with the Baron.

Feilun let out a deep sigh, recalling yesterday’s argument with the Baron.

“I was quite surprised too. I didn’t expect the Lieutenant to defend the territorial subjects.”

“You mean it was unexpected for a pure-blooded noble to side with non-nobles?”

Really now.

Even when I try to say it indirectly, he takes it literally.

Chuckling, Feilun extended his hand toward me.

What, asking for a cigarette?

“…Senior, don’t you not smoke?”

“Just give me one. I’m dying from nerves.”

Ah geez, what a pain.

I handed him a cigarette and lit it for him.

“Keh, kack! cough cough!”

See? Why smoke when you’re not used to it?

“Actually, I never wanted to become a mage.”

After coughing a few times,

Feilun smiled wryly and started sharing his story.

“But my birth mother, Countess Pecklin… She was a woman obsessed with power.”

“That’s quite… direct language toward your mother.”

“Watch how noble houses operate up close. Any affection you had will drain away.”

Having said that, Feilun gazed at the cityscape spread before him.

According to Claude’s information, the popular uprising would begin in a few hours.

The city interior was wrapped in a calm like the eye of a storm.

“The ones who showed me kindness were my non-noble nanny and servants. They were irreplaceable people to me.”

As Feilun spoke, his eyes suddenly changed.

“Do you know… what happened to them?”

“They died.”

I can tell just by those eyes.

Nodding, Feilun continued.

“My nanny was struck in the head for dirtying a dress meant for a ball, and never woke up. The servant who used to play with me died under a horse’s hooves, and another was burned by magic for blocking Bastion’s path.”

“Huh…”

“That’s when I thought about it. That I would change this damned empire with my own hands.”

Really unexpected facts kept coming out.

Who knew a boss monster you meet early on had such a backstory.

Isn’t this setting unnecessarily complicated?

“It’s remarkable you didn’t join the rebels.”

“I told you. I’ll use any means necessary.”

Feilun, having positioned the trio in their optimal spots, responded to my words.

“It’s true I harbor resentment toward nobles. I also think the empire needs to change. However, I don’t agree with their methods.”

Having said that, Feilun looked out at the city that was starting to stir.

“I respect their passion for overthrowing the country, but their ideology is fundamentally rooted in anger. If a group that makes destruction its purpose tries to move a massive nation like the empire… I don’t think that will end well.”

“……”

He was right.

The betrayal the protagonist would face, the chaos that would follow.

And the destruction the Emperor had foreseen.

‘I suppose it’s natural for someone like this to go mad after killing citizens with his own hands.’

Meanwhile, along with a whistle, crowds of people poured into the streets.

As numerous torches filled the territory, soldiers nervously checked their weapons.

Watching them, Feilun swallowed dryly and asked.

“Eugene. Are you certain?”

“Yes. I’m certain.”

Hearing my words, Feilun spoke to each unit and the Magic Corps through magical power communication.

“This is Commander Lieutenant Feilun Rus Nachtval. Do not act rashly, and absolutely do not fire first. Unless there’s a preemptive attack, they are not rioters but territorial subjects of Zicklinte. Understood?!”

– Yes!

– Everyone heard that! Absolutely no firing first!

– Don’t build up bad blood with uninvolved territorial subjects! Got it?!

– Guille, Ortega, Matt.

While the shouts of the three people receiving my orders could be heard, the gathered crowds completely surrounded the anti-air position and mansion.

“…!”

“W-what kind of numbers…!”

An overwhelming number that made it seem like all the territory’s subjects had come out.

As soldiers swallowed dryly at the sight, someone slowly walked out from among the gathered crowd.

The Revolutionary Army leader of the Galphren branch whom I’d met when infiltrating their hideout.

He slowly raised the torch in his hand…

“Corrupt lord, Baron Zicklinte, hear our demands-!”

Instead of ordering the crowd to attack, he began shouting toward the mansion with a megaphone.

“Waaaah—!”

Cheers and slogans mixed to create an overwhelming voice.

Stop the oppression of territorial subjects.

Lower the tax rate.

Provide compensation for forced labor.

Pay overdue wages.

When the territorial subjects, who were expected to charge in immediately, stopped in place and started shouting, the tense soldiers looked at each other in bewilderment.

“What, this is…!”

“Instead of an uprising, they’re just protesting?”

The citizens shouting slogans while maintaining distance from the lined-up Imperial Army formation.

Actually, from the perspective of a 21st century Earth person, this was an all too familiar sight.

Do you guys know about non-violent protests?

***

“What… what are they doing right now?!”

Baron Zicklinte, who had been expecting to watch the Imperial Army kill citizens from a distance, was dumbfounded at the situation below the mansion.

“A protest?! Just a protest?! The rebel scum gathered this many people, and all they’re doing is protesting?!”

He had planned to use the popular uprising as a pretext to eliminate troublesome rebels.

The Imperial Army would bear the burden of slaughtering territorial subjects, while he would monopolize the honor of suppressing rebel leadership!

‘But why… why aren’t they fighting?’

He couldn’t watch anymore.

Baron Zicklinte immediately contacted Feilun, the Imperial Army commander.

“Lieutenant! Can you not hear those rioters’ voices?! Why aren’t you opening fire…”

– Rioters? I don’t know what you mean.

But Feilun’s voice flowing through his magic imprint was utterly leisurely.

– As an Imperial Army officer, I judge that the territorial subjects are merely making ‘legitimate demands for improved treatment.’ We cannot consider them rioters, can we?

“Damn it, then there was no need to deploy troops! Return the forces immediately to hunt down the rebels…!”

That won’t be possible either.

The voice that cut into the heated magical power communication was that of Eugene, Feilun’s adjutant.

– Who knows if there might be rebel agents among those territorial subjects? If we carelessly withdraw troops and strong points like the anti-air position are occupied, wouldn’t our support have been meaningless?

“Where is there such sophistry! Right now among that crowd, there isn’t a single rebel…”

Before the Baron could finish speaking, an explosion occurred in one corner of the mansion.

“Aaaagh?!”

“It’s rebels! Rebel mages!”

While the private soldiers stationed at the mansion scattered in panic, a flag emerged from the thick smoke.

Red Wings drawn on a black background.

The rebels’ main force had infiltrated the mansion.

“What’s going on. The mansion perimeter defense forces…”

While muttering this, Baron Zicklinte recalled what Feilun had said to him.

‘Unless they launch a preemptive attack against the defense forces, citizens in the streets are territorial subjects, not rioters. Do you agree on this point?’

That statement…

Wasn’t it as if he had foreseen this situation…!

“Those bastards, could they be with the rebels…”

“Baron Dario Zicklinte.”

“!!!”

Amid the confusion, mages who had completed battle preparations aimed their weapons at him from beneath the flag.

“We’ll end your life right here.”

Along with the mechanical sound of magic bullets being loaded, red magical power overwhelmed the assembly.

It was Claude de Lascol, leader of the Revolutionary Army.