Semi-Coercive Imperialist

The warden’s office of the Empire’s 13th Prison.

Warden Guenter received a call from someone there.

“……Yes. Knight Maximilian has arrived.”

Gripping the terminal device with both hands, he respectfully reported the events of the day.

“It seems he intends to use the limited pardon system. He is currently meeting with the inmates, including number 330…….”

His cautious voice continued for a while, but the response from the other side was short and concise.

─It can’t be helped.

A deeply subdued tone. The warden unconsciously hunched his shoulders. The person on the other end was not some distant blade from Ebenholtz, it was a dagger lying right in front of him.

─Prepare for execution tomorrow morning. A formal execution order will be issued from the Empire’s Western Court.

“……Understood.”

Click. The call ended. The warden let out a deep sigh and sank into his chair.

***

I sat in a metal chair in the prison visiting room.

Tick. Tick.

I stared unnecessarily at the analog clock hanging on the grayish-white wall.

Tick. Tick.

That sound. The movement of the second hand. Everything that marks time has, at some point, started to get on my nerves.

Knock knock.

The door opened with a knock. A guard bowed his head and spoke.

“Inmate number 7301. Jin Maycop will be brought in.”

The inmate entered in turn.

The first was a thin-framed young man. I looked over his file.

[Jin Maycop. 27 years old. Death row inmate. Operated a small dessert shop on the outskirts of the Capital, poisoned eight travelers and stole their belongings.]

“Do you have anything like candy? The food here tastes so awful.”

“…….”

I stared at the man who asked that for a moment, then waved my hand.

“Next.”

“Inmate number 172. Geyus will be brought in.”

The second was a burly man. With a thick mustache and a body covered in scars.

I flipped through the pages of the document.

[Inmate Information: Geyus Pen. 42 years old. Death row inmate. Operated the mercenary group ‘Iron Fist’. After suffering financial difficulties, repeatedly attacked freight trucks and killed over 10 people.]

“……I’m curious why someone like me is being summoned, Sir Knight?”

He tried to gauge me with a downward voice. I didn’t like how clever he was pretending to be.

“Next.”

“Inmate number 370, Eustich will be brought in.”

“Next.”

“Inmate number 997, Kane will be brought in.”

“Next.”

After a few more meaningless interviews like that, finally.

“Inmate number 330. Schatz Heizen.”

That number was called.

Number 330 clanked as she sat before me, bound in restraints.

“Nice to meet you.”

I was genuinely glad, but she said nothing. She only stared at me with resolute eyes.

“Your name is Schatz. That’s unusual.”

It was certainly a unique name. There probably weren’t many with the same name.

Of course, even if it wasn’t unique, I would never have forgotten it.

[Case File: Schatz Heizen. 22 years old. Death row inmate. Killed seven employees of Mason Industry due to mana overload.]

Before the Regression, she was a core figure in the Revolutionary forces, famous enough to be featured in newspaper specials.

“You killed seven people.”

I turned the cover of the case file. Details of the incident, Schatz’s background, and the contents were all recorded.

“…….”

I looked at her.

“…….”

Still, no words.

Just from her expression, you could tell she was incredibly stubborn. She was naturally a reticent person too.

“Have you felt any remorse during your three years of imprisonment?”

“…….”

I flipped through the pages of the case file and let out a faint chuckle.

It seemed I would have to bring up the main point first.

“Unlike the other lowlifes, you’ve received a higher level of education. That was probably thanks to the efforts of your father, who, despite being born a commoner, became a researcher at a major company.”

For a moment, Schatz’s brow twitched.

“Your father recognized your talent early and supported you. But-”

“Do not speak further.”

It appeared her sore spot was her father. I found it absurd, but at least she had finally opened her mouth.

“Your father died. Official cause of death: ‘Overwork’.”

Schatz clenched her teeth. Her lips stopped at the shape of ‘fu—’. It seemed she barely held back from swearing.

“You couldn’t believe it, and began your own investigation…….”

The file included a photo of Schatz protesting alone in front of a company.

“The conclusion is this.”

Tap.

I placed my finger on the final paragraph of the case file.

“Mana overload. Seven civilians killed.”

“……What do you want.”

She hadn’t spoken in quite some time; her voice was harsh and hoarse. I leaned deep into the backrest of the chair.

“I’m looking for an investigator. A knight’s work is quite complex, and I need someone whose eyes and ears are sharp, even in the dark.”

“Of all people, me, who killed seven?”

“I have a good eye for people.”

Schatz let out a hollow laugh, as if it was ridiculous, but this kind of “information” was precisely my strongest weapon.

“……Then let me ask. Do you even know what kind of mess my case is tied to?”

“That’s something we can talk about gradually.”

The corners of Schatz’s mouth curled. A cold sneer.

“You’ll regret this later. Someone like you can’t handle it.”

Someone like you.

How amusing.

I smiled as I looked at her.

“No. It’s exactly the opposite.”

I pulled out a document and slid it across the table. A limited pardon form.

“I am that ‘someone who can’t be handled’.”

It was a document even knights were reluctant to use, so rare it was almost never invoked. At the top, the name of the knight responsible for the pardon was written.

[Maximilian Albrecht von Ebenholtz]

Her pupils trembled.

As I said before, Ebenholtz is a name that appears even in imperial textbooks. Meaning, any moderately educated commoner could not possibly be unaware of it.

“This is your chance. One that may never come again.”

I held out a pen to her.

“……If I sign, what happens?”

Schatz’s demeanor changed slightly.

“It would be a limited pardon. You’ll be allowed out of the prison.”

“If I’m pardoned, then what happens after that?”

“You’ll be wearing a leash. Every action you take will be under my control.”

I didn’t take my eyes off her.

“And what I get in return is-”

“An indefinite postponement of your execution. And.”

In addition, I included the condition she desired most.

“A chance to achieve what you want.”

***

Mason Industry.

A major company headquartered in the western part of the Empire, leading in magi-tech development.

At one point, they staked their future on a national imperial project, the development of a “Mana Engine” that would artificially implant mana into the human body. Schatz’s father was a core researcher on that project.

However, during the project, her father realized that the design of the Mana Engine was flawed. He requested that the company restart the project, but of course, the company refused to abandon it. Instead, for more certain success, they pushed forward with human experimentation. The subjects were homeless people or demi-humans.

One day, after discovering this, her father suddenly died.

The cause was listed as overwork.

Schatz questioned her father’s sudden death. She tracked Mason Industry on her own, uncovered numerous pieces of evidence, and submitted them to the press, but all of it was thoroughly buried. Crushed under Mason Industry’s power.

Worse, they came to her. They pressed a blade to her neck, demanding she hand over the “original” her father supposedly hid somewhere.

Schatz didn’t know what her father had hidden. But she found their deceit, their filth, tainting her father’s name right in front of her, so repulsive that she fought back against those trying to take her life.

That’s how she killed seven people.

By the time she came to her senses, she had already been arrested, and the entire process, from interrogation to trial to sentencing, was completed in just one month.

The sentence: death.

“……Number 330.”

Schatz’s eyes snapped open. Her entire body was drenched in sweat.

“Come out.”

Clank. The door to her solitary cell opened, and the morning sunlight poured in.

Schatz silently followed the guard.

Death row inmates are not informed of their upcoming schedule. That’s the rule.

But Schatz had signed the limited pardon form. Therefore, the relevant procedure was supposed to be carried out.

──And yet.

The path was strange.

The corridor they were heading down was unfamiliar.

Just now- clearly, just moments ago, they should have turned right at the fork.

That was where the exit was.

But this path was a different one.

A path they shouldn’t be taking.

The dreaded left turn she had imagined every morning as part of her daily routine.

The one that led to the execution chamber.

This isn’t the right path.

This isn’t the right path.

Schatz suddenly came to a halt. The guard tried to force her to move.

“What is-”

No way.

A sense of dread flashed through her mind.

They struck first. Mason’s reach was faster than the knight from Ebenholtz.

Her face turned pale.

“I…!”

Just as she was about to yell at the guards gripping her arms.

“Shh.”

The guard on her left quietly gestured for her to keep silent. He even gave a faint smile, as if to reassure her. The guard on the right did the same.

“Just follow us. You understand, right?”

“…….”

Schatz calmed herself for now, and the guards indeed passed by the execution chamber. They exited the prison casually and reached a vacant lot in the back.

There, a black vehicle was waiting.

“Get in. He’s waiting.”

The guard opened the rear door. Schatz blankly climbed in and sat down.

The man was seated beside her.

Blond hair and golden eyes, the symbol of the Empire. His sharply carved features carried an oppressive aura. Maximilian of Ebenholtz.

“What happened?”

“Your execution was ordered this morning.”

Maximilian gave a faint chuckle and held up the “Execution Order”.

“But I submitted the limited pardon form at dawn.”

The engine started, and Maximilian tore up the order. Schatz blankly stared at the pieces of paper being shredded to bits.

An official court order to execute her, torn to pieces by the hands of just one man.

“In terms of timing, I beat them. The Western Court can’t win against the Sentinel.”

“Then…….”

“I saved you. That’s all you need to know.”

Maximilian quietly closed his eyes. It felt like speaking further would be a mistake.

Instead, Schatz turned to look outside the window. The scenery of the prison had already faded far into the distance, and soon, a new landscape appeared.

“…….”

Without a word, she buried her eyes and nose into the window. She gazed at the unfamiliar view passing by in a blur.

And so, after several hours had passed.

“A car is following us.”

Schatz spoke in a low voice. Maximilian gave a slight nod.

“You’ve got good instincts. No need to worry about it.”

Meanwhile, the vehicle reached the outskirts of the Imperial center.

Screech-

It came to a stop in an open lot.

“Get out.”

“…….”

Schatz quietly stepped out. The car that had been trailing them also stopped nearby. Its door opened, and someone got out.

Schatz’s eyes widened.

It was the two guards who had released her, along with the deputy warden.

“……We meet again, number 330.”

The deputy warden approached with a bitter smile. Schatz flinched and asked back.

“What is this?”

“It’s simple. We decided to grab hold of a new rope. Can’t stay under that rotten bastard in that rotten prison forever, can we?”

Wealth is just wealth. Power is just power. But honor united with tradition, an unbroken lineage stretching back half a millennium, is history itself, a thing people always look up to, and it naturally draws others in.

The deputy warden’s faction had approached Ebenholtz from the moment Maximilian set foot in the prison. They reported every bit of corruption by Warden Guenter and the rest of the prison in detail.

“First, your belongings from when you were incarcerated.”

The deputy warden handed Schatz a bag.

“This is a terminal you can use to communicate with the knight.”

“…….”

Taking it, Schatz blankly looked at Maximilian.

“Until further instructions are given, focus on training your body over there.”

He pointed toward a lodging in the distance. A solitary building stood on an empty plot of land.

“Your top priority right now is to become stronger.”

“Yes.”

Schatz was about to enter but then paused.

“Sir Knight.”

To Maximilian, who was silently watching her, she asked the lingering question.

“Why me, of all people?”

Maximilian seemed lost in thought for a moment, then a faint smile formed on his lips. He exhaled his words like a sigh.

“No need for questions. Let’s forget about the future for now..”

“……The future?”

The future. Brilliant yet grim. A future where all of humanity, freed from the shackles of the Empire, was wiped out by the damned otherworldly species.

You were the one who killed my father in that future.

“That’s right.”

You were the one who killed the great Sebestian.

“It means stop wasting time on trivial doubts and focus only on the present.”

There was no reason not to take someone like you.