Chapter 149: Chapter 114: Everyone After the War, the Governor’s Plan
Verne’s Stereoscopic City.
No. 91 Cemetery.
Kirk, once a shrewd and capable local Judge, was now old and frail, his hair white, worn down by thirteen years of war.
His early years chasing criminals and Cultists in the Lower City District had left his mortal body riddled with old wounds. Now, every time the weather turned overcast and rainy, his knees ached terribly and he could barely straighten his back.
The drizzling rain dampened his shoulders. The current Grand Judge of Verne’s Stereoscopic City stood alone on the gravel path, staring at the headstone before him, silent for a long, long time.
[This is the Rose Tavern’s bone broth stew recipe: five grams of sea salt, a small handful of watercress, a small bowl of peas, dried sea fish, beef bones, plus your favorite meat, simmer for three hours.
I hope that in the days I’m gone, you’ll still eat well, Judge Kirk. —Love, Rachel.]
Scenes from his time at the Rose Tavern surfaced in his memory. The sounds of laughter and merriment still echoed in his ears, so clear, yet so distant.
Kirk bent down, placed a bouquet of fresh flowers before the headstone, pulled his overcoat tighter, and turned to leave.
In the end, he hadn’t been able to save Rachel.
’But why wasn’t I the one who died that day?’
The Grand Judge’s lonely figure receded down the path of the magnificent No. 91 Cemetery, growing smaller and smaller before vanishing into the misty curtain of rain.
After he left, a cold droplet slid down the headstone and landed on a white flower petal, causing it to tremble gently.
...
Kirk was long past the retirement age for a Judge.
But he was the only local Judge from Verne to survive that battle. The Judgement Court in the Desolate Wasteland Ruins needed his help to rebuild, and the new Judges needed his guidance.
And so, he wandered aimlessly through the Desolate Wasteland Ruins.
He didn’t know how long he had walked before he looked up at the Caster Monastery under construction... or rather, at the future Caster Battle Group Knight Fortress—a cathedral whose expansion had been approved by the National Church of the Imperial Administrative Region.
The memories of those formidable years were still fresh in his mind.
A young Priest Apprentice lingering outside the Cathedral saw him and hurried over, asking respectfully, "Lord Grand Judge, we didn’t receive word you were coming. Are you here to...?"
Kirk smiled and waved a hand.
His hands were stuffed in his overcoat pockets. His body had grown so stout that he couldn’t even fasten the bottom button of his coat.
"I recall the Lord Governor mentioning that a hundred-meter-tall Statue of the Vengeful Angel is to be built in the Upper City District. It seems the site was selected to be within the Cathedral’s future expansion area."
The young apprentice quickly replied, "I haven’t heard of such a plan yet, but since the Lord Governor brought it up, the Cathedral should be making a decision soon."
As he spoke, the Priest Apprentice looked enviously at the symbol of honor hanging on Kirk’s chest: the Holy Cross Medal. A National Church Judge had personally bestowed the medal upon Lord Kirk last year, when the Imperial Administrative Region held an award ceremony for the Verne Defense Army.
He’d heard that very few were qualified to receive such a medal, not even most officially commissioned Imperial Judges.
The meaning of the Holy Cross Medal was simple and well-known.
For a Judge to survive an encounter with a Great Demon was, in itself, a symbol of loyalty and resolve.
He’d also heard that the Judgement Court of the Imperial Administrative Region had originally intended to recruit Lord Kirk as an officially commissioned Imperial Judge, but he had refused, citing his old age.
Or rather, Grand Judge Kirk’s public story was always the same: his survival and the foiling of the Great Demon’s plot were entirely thanks to Lord Reinhardt and Lord Raphael. He was just lucky.
Just then, a dejected young man emerged from Caster Cathedral, a bag of luggage slung over his shoulder. He sighed constantly, glancing back at the cathedral every few steps.
Ever since Reinhardt had saved him, Laslo, a young soldier in the Defense Army, had been determined to become a Caster Battle Group Knight!
Unfortunately, reality was too cruel.
After a year of probationary training, his Physique showed no improvement. Instead, his appetite grew to a terrifying degree, to the point where the other knight’s attendants joked that he had only joined the Caster Battle Group’s training camp for the free meals.
If it weren’t for his status as a decorated veteran of the Verne Defense Army, he would have been kicked out of the training camp in his third month.
Since he couldn’t become an Imperial Knight, Laslo’s only option was to return to his old unit in the Defense Army.
Of course, he could also return to his hometown with a hefty retirement stipend, marry eight or ten wives, buy a vast tract of land, and live out his days as a happy nobleman.
But he didn’t want to live a life of mediocrity.
The awesome display of Reinhardt’s Mighty Power that he had once witnessed was seared deep into his memory, something he would never forget.
「Meanwhile.」
At the Temporary Governor’s Mansion in the Upper City District, Ullrich had cast aside his usual aged and decrepit appearance. With his arm around a beautiful woman, he stood on the terrace, full of vigor, enjoying a rare breeze.
Taking a Wizard’s potions and undergoing modification surgery carried the risk of being branded a heretic by the Judgment Court.
However, all the Great Lords and Provincial Governors in the Empire were secretly using these life-extending treatments. Aside from the exorbitant price that had nearly bankrupted him, the side effects were negligible.
Everyone feared death, but Ullrich didn’t find it so terrifying anymore.
Of course, his decision to undergo the modification surgery was partly driven by a personal desire to enjoy life. But he still had a grand, century-long plan, even if the commoners would undoubtedly curse him behind his back as a greedy bastard.
Ullrich knew one thing with absolute clarity: he, Caster Cathedral, the Defense Army... everything in this world was now inextricably linked to Reinhardt.
He was not like those soldiers in the Defense Army who lacked political acumen and were filled with nothing but fervent passion for the Divine Emperor.
If Verne World was to prosper, he had to stand firmly with Reinhardt. They would rise and fall together.
Reinhardt’s network and resources would bring this world a future and opportunities beyond imagination.
In return, all of Verne World would serve as Reinhardt’s unwavering foundation of support.
Ullrich knew full well that, at best, his body would only last another hundred years. By then, even the modification surgeries would be useless.
That left him with three crucial tasks: grooming a pro-Reinhardt successor to the governorship; purging all dissenting voices within Verne World; and maneuvering cautiously to establish a foothold in the Dome Grand Council to politically champion Reinhardt’s interests.
Perhaps younger Knights believed that martial prowess was everything, that they could obtain anything they wanted in the Empire through strength alone.
But Ullrich had long been accustomed to the Empire’s internal strife.
Even figures as powerful as the seventeen Legendary Immortals, the Empire’s supreme martial powers, had been caught up in the purges preceding the Great Rebellion. What chance did Reinhardt stand, a newly-ascended Earth Knight?
Unless, one day, he could stand on equal footing with the Four Gods and the Divine Emperor.
At that thought, Ullrich couldn’t help but let out a wry laugh.
’Rival the Four Gods and the Divine Emperor? What sort of heretical nonsense am I thinking... Could it be a side effect of the modification surgery?’
