Yegor Ivanov.
The emperor’s watchdog and the empire’s guillotine.
Originally from the slums, he accidentally awakened his mana and rose to this position in the army before he was even thirty.
There were only two ways for a peasant or someone from the slums to survive in the empire.
Either possess truly overwhelming magical talent and contribute to the advancement of imperial magic technology,
Or stain both hands with bl**d.
The original Information Bureau was essentially no different from a s*icide squad.
At a time when concepts of tactics and deception had yet to be properly established, all they could do was throw themselves headlong into battle.
Countless agents died. Hundreds of people whose names, ages, origins, and appearances were no longer remembered.
Even within the empire’s military, where disregard for human life was rampant, the Information Bureau was nothing more than expendable.
Yet, there was one who had proudly survived even in such a hell.
That was Yegor Ivanov.
The survival rate of lieutenants sent out on their first mission was 5%.
Even if they returned and were promoted to captain, the average survival rate per mission did not exceed 10%.
In that tight spot, Yegor always managed to survive.
It wasn’t that he had been shirking his duties either.
He volunteered for missions everyone avoided and succeeded in them. Despite being feared and envied by his superiors, who continued to assign him s*icide missions, he boldly shattered them and returned.
From lieutenant to captain, and then to major.
When he finally reached the rank of senior officer,
Yegor Ivanov cleansed those who had pushed him into harm’s way with his own hands and willingly answered the emperor’s call.
A man who, despite holding the rank of major, which is neither high nor low, earned the emperor’s trust entirely.
Fittingly called the empire’s guillotine, the Information Bureau was reborn with Yegor Ivanov as its cornerstone.
While purging the subversive elements within the military, he gathered orphans from across the empire and trained them into killing machines like himself.
As a result,
The emperor’s watchdogs transformed from timid lambs to ferocious beasts.
With their unique intelligence, they matched the might of the Pry Free Democratic State’s intelligence agency, which had long plagued the empire.
Thanks to this, Yegor’s influence reached the level of a general, despite his rank only being “major.”
But a thirst remained in his heart.
Bringing in orphans to train them as killing machines was because he hoped that someday someone like him would appear.
A sense of kinship.
Even though he had received boundless mercy from the emperor in place of the parents who had abandoned him, Yegor’s heart was always empty.
Because he couldn’t empathize.
Why did fellow agents d*e helplessly?
Why did he hesitate while looking at those begging for their lives?
Why did he keep chewing over his failures instead of transcending them?
Why did he give up on what seemed impossible without even trying?
He often said that the reason was because he was a rare, high-quality component,
But it never truly answered the fundamental question.
Amidst this, an order came to steal an artifact from a small western country.
To Yegor, it was a trivial mission.
Was there anyone in the empire’s army who didn’t know that the Duchy of Okhraine was a hollow, decaying nation?
Just a foolish people resigned to their fate, turning their heads away from the imminent destruction.
Such was the image.
There was no need to put much effort into it; the parts he brought along were already subpar.
Using Okhraine’s internal information network, he tracked down the artifact’s location.
On the day he incited bandits to turn the border fortress into ruins,
Yegor Ivanov first heard about the newly appointed lieutenant, Enok Revendale.
Initially, he didn’t care since he thought it was just another Okhraine officer,
But as he continued to hear tales of Enok’s exploits, his interest began to rise.
He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.
Vague intuition and curiosity.
Perhaps he felt that Enok might be the kindred spirit he had been searching for.
And at the Rimansky munitions factory, where they were researching mutants, Yegor and Enok met again fatefully.
Under the command of the Sky High Mage Sony Chepelin, his transformation into a commander was remarkable.
In just a few months, he had changed so much from the lieutenant he once was.
“I like your guts and sense of humor. I’ll make sure to remember those golden locks.”
This was sincere praise.
Even when they fought as mages later, Yegor couldn’t help but marvel.
His instinctive movements were indeed similar to Yegor’s.
Though he hadn’t mastered magic yet and couldn’t overwhelm Yegor,
His combat sense, especially considering he was from a minor country, was astonishing.
Only someone born with such abilities could achieve this.
Just like Yegor himself!
Of course, he was scolded by the emperor for the first time after this, but Yegor Ivanov was not upset.
Instead, his heart raced. He wondered how such a beast could have been hiding in the Duchy of Okhraine, which he had considered unworthy of attention.
So, he focused intently on Okhraine.
Arming the Azoff National Liberation Front to instigate the Second Quernen War, and inciting the civil war in Okhraine through long-planted agents within the military,
All were part of Yegor Ivanov’s strategy.
All for another encounter with Enok Revendale!
And today,
Yegor Ivanov finally faced the ‘kindred spirit’ he had been waiting for years.
“…I knew you’d be here.”
Breathing heavily, the blonde major growled at him. Around them lay the mutilated bodies of Information Bureau agents, just as Yegor had once been.
“Even after carefully selecting them, they were all wiped out? Of course, you would do that.”
Yegor smiled contentedly.
Brotherhood? That didn’t exist.
“Long time no see, comrade lieutenant… now, major.”
“Major Yegor Ivanov.”
“You’ve both risen in rank. Indeed, if such talents as us were wasted, this country would have collapsed long ago.”
Yegor casually pulled out his pistol and spoke.
Heavy silence fell. Their killing intents collided.
Flash.
Enok Revendale was the first to move.
Purple mana flashed, and in the blink of an eye, Enok’s dagger reached Yegor’s face.
Close combat.
Yegor calmly increased the distance, grabbing Enok’s arm. Crack! The dull sound of cloth tearing and the attempt to twist Enok’s wrist.
Bang!
He swiftly dodged the b*llet aimed at his thigh. Was the dagger just a bluff?
Immediately after creating distance, the familiar itching sound echoed. Pzzz─, before Yegor’s hair stood on end, mana surged from his body.
Clang!
The marble gauntlet that blocked the b*llet-like electric shock shattered into pieces.
Superior yellow mana, Earth Glove.
Even if the superior purple mana had excellent penetration, it rarely shattered the robust yellow mana.
“How much more have you grown?”
Yegor smiled faintly.
If things went well, a new Great Mage might soon emerge. Or rather, given what Yegor knew of Enok Revendale, he wouldn’t willingly accept the shackles of being a Great Mage.
However, Enok clenched his teeth. Despite giving it everything, his opponent remained composed.
The de facto leader of the Information Bureau. He thought he had improved his combat sense significantly over the years, yet he still couldn’t gain an advantage over Yegor.
Not just him, but everyone else had advanced. So, he had to push himself even harder here.
The grudge with the Information Bureau needed to end here.
For future plans, Yegor Ivanov was a target that had to be eliminated.
Bang, bang!!
Bullets crossed each other. bl**d trickled down his cheek from the grazed b*llet.
Blech─! Bang!
The attack struck his wrist, causing the g*n to misalign. Accurate aiming was impossible. Everything had to be focused on sensing the moment.
Enok’s arm didn’t stop. His precise strikes aimed at vital points. Any opening would mean game over.
Yegor knew this too. He defended every strike with his fists, reading the trajectory of the dagger.
Imperial combat techniques.
Bang!! Even as he did this, the pistol in his other hand fired. Aiming for the leg, but the trajectory was deflected by the purple lightning that erupted from the ground.
Unbelievable reflexes. Even as he desperately attacked, he never left any openings.
Fast. No gaps.
Intense. Breathless.
Click click.
Their ammunition ran out. Both Enok and Yegor threw their pistols to the ground simultaneously.
The feeling of survival after so long. What was this? Survival instinct?
Yegor swung his fist, feeling a chilling sensation. His legs were slower than expected. The length made it hard for signals to reach his muscles instantly.
Enok hardly used his feet. Just maintaining balance and occupying advantageous positions was challenging enough.
How many exchanges did they have?
Now, he couldn’t hear anything around him. Okhraine soldiers surrounded them, but none dared intervene.
They sensed it too. They weren’t meant to interfere.
Yet, Yegor also noticed something.
Enok’s strength was waning. Though his movements were still fierce, the power behind them was diminishing.
Attacks that required full effort were now deflected by light jabs.
The 5th and 6th companies weren’t weak either.
If his comrades, especially Claude Rain, had been present, the outcome might have been different,
But having dismantled two covert units, it was inevitable.
In other words,
“If we had met in perfect condition, I would have died.”
d*ath.
The concept closest to Yegor Ivanov, yet the furthest, now loomed before him.
Swish! Dodging the thrusting sword, the twilight sky revealed itself to Yegor’s vision. Dawn was breaking. The enjoyable moments were coming to an end.
The purple lightning surrounding the blade surged violently.
Though powerful, Yegor caught a faint gap.
Finally, he seized the opportunity.
Dodging the sword, he punched Yegor’s chest. Crack! Crunch!! A clear impact spread through his skin.
He crushed a rib with one blow.
A fatal injury. Given his already exhausted state, allowing such an attack meant the battle was over.
However.
As victory dawned on Yegor, he saw Enok Revendale smiling.
?
Glancing sideways, he noticed a thin line of purple extending.
Whoosh!
The dagger guided by that line pierced Yegor’s neck.
“Think of it as a thrown kn*fe.”
One of the techniques Enok learned from Claude Rain involved laying down a rail of purple lightning to accelerate a dagger and hit the target.
Despite carrying two daggers, Enok didn’t draw either because—
Though not as proficient as Claude Rain, he was confident in shooting at close range when the enemy was off guard.
Yegor collapsed, spewing bl**d from his mouth.
He tried to say something, but his throat was pierced, so no voice came out.
“……!!……..!!!!”
Enok snapped his fingers, and the dagger, still embedded, traced a horizontal path.
Splat!!
Gory bl**d sprayed in all directions as the watchdog’s head rolled away.
Indeed, a fitting end for the empire’s guillotine.
