The Academy Entrance Train Is Always Targeted by Terrorists (2) Whenever the cadets asked why the United Kingdom was called the “United” Kingdom, Ivan would simply tell them to look at the railway map.
This vast railway network, once used to transport military supplies during the war against the Demon King, functioned as the arteries connecting not only cities, but entire nations.
Metal beasts capable of crossing distances that once required over ten days of relentless travel by carriage in only three or four days.
They had been the true heroes of the last war.
“So who’s arriving first?” “It’s Einar from Droan, sir.
I heard Princess Esidisi is scheduled to depart first!” “But it’s only January.” “Exactly!
Who travels two whole months early just to wait for enrollment in a foreign country?
And she’s royalty, no less!
Talk about inconveniencing everyone.” The young man grinned mischievously.
“I guess Princess Esidisi had a pretty rough time back home.
You know how those Droan country bumpkins look down on playing musical instruments.” “…Musical instruments…?” “Oh, didn’t I mention it?
Princess Esidisi applied to the College of Music.
She’s majoring in violin in the Orchestral Music Department.
Isn’t that incredible?
The daughter of that Great King Einar becoming a violinist.” Ivan paused for a moment.
The Einar he remembered—before becoming the King, when he had been a member of the Hero’s Party—had been a madman who carried two axes, collecting orc heads in the morning and taurus heads in the evening.
“Kuhahaha!
My dear ‘Little’ Ivan!
This is how you swing an axe!!” Didn’t daughters usually take after their fathers…?
No…
that wasn’t right.
It had been years ago now, but the Esidisi he vaguely remembered had been a delicate little girl who adored her father.
In truth, they hardly resembled each other at all.
Fortunately for everyone.
Still…
The strongest music student in history is about to appear.
That was Ivan’s brief conclusion.
Esidisi hadn’t inherited her father’s appearance or personality.
But when it came to swinging an axe, she was his spitting image.
“By the way, sir…
are you really sure about this?
Is there seriously going to be a terrorist attack on the train?” “Yes.” “By whom?
I mean…
well…
there are way too many people who’d fit that description…
but still.
She’s the daughter of Great King Einar.
If they’re caught, they’ll get the Blood Eagle.” The Blood Eagle was the favorite traditional pastime of the people of Droan.
It occupied roughly the same cultural status as holiday games or festival swings.
(At least in the sense that huge crowds enjoyed watching.) The details were far too horrifying to explain to the civilized citizens of the Kingdom of Krasilof.
“If you take the shortest direct railway from Droan to St.
Jansk University…” Ignoring the young man’s comment, Ivan traced a line across the railway map.
Transport Route No.
12.
One of the trade railways connecting the Kingdom of Krasilof and the Kingdom of Droan.
“And if I had to guess…” He tapped a station.
“Igorevich Station.
That’s the most likely location.” “…How can you be so sure?
Terrorists don’t exactly announce where they’re going to strike.
Do you have someone planted there?” “Because they’ll attack at the border.” Ivan had no idea who would carry out the attack.
There was no way to know.
He had long since retired and had no remaining ties to the intelligence agencies.
But he could make an educated guess.
Assume that the terrorist attack itself was a constant.
Then all he had to do was work backward through the questions of why, who, and how.
“The target is Princess Esidisi.” “If…
well…
if there’s really going to be an attack, then yes.” “And why?” “…Huh?” Naturally, it would be to create conflict between Krasilof and Droan.
That much was obvious.
“If that’s the objective, then the attack won’t happen south of the Droan border.
To pin the blame on Krasilof, it has to occur inside our territory.” “Uh…
yeah.
That makes sense.” “But after Igorevich Station, this railway passes through three military districts.” No matter how vulnerable trains were to terrorism, military zones were another matter entirely.
The railway wasn’t completely surrounded by military territory, but it did pass directly through three separate garrisons.
A reminder that the railway had originally been built for military logistics.
“And naturally, security becomes tighter the closer you get to the capital.
Which means the weakest point is Igorevich Station.” “Oh…
right.” “When is Princess Esidisi scheduled to depart?” “The noon train two days from now.” “Then she’ll arrive around ten in the morning four days from now.” Ivan folded the railway map.
“If we leave now, we’ll arrive at just the right time.” The younger man stared blankly at him before chuckling.
“Seriously…
what’s going on with you?
It’s not like you’ve received a divine oracle.
I never heard anyone say you could predict the future back when you were active.
I can dispatch agents to suppress a terrorist attack, but I’d need evidence before I can convince my superiors.” “Then shall we make a bet?” “…A bet?” “No field support.
Let’s simply see what happens.” Ivan smiled faintly.
There was no evidence.
There couldn’t be.
There were no informants.
But the attack would happen.
Because it was common sense.
He had neither the time nor the inclination to persuade anyone over something like this.
There would be several more instances of this sort of “common sense” in the future.
He couldn’t waste time explaining every single one.
So he decided to settle the matter here, once and for all.
Besides…
He was confident.
If the attack never happened, then there would be little cost.
He hadn’t requested any reinforcements.
But if it did happen…
His words would instantly gain credibility.
After all, he would have rescued Hiking’s daughter.
Furthermore, there was no way Hiking Einar would send his beloved daughter abroad alone.
Naturally, she would have attendants accompanying her.
But if the terrorist attack is inevitable…then the attackers are confident they can eliminate every one of Princess Esidisi’s escorts.
There was nothing to lose.
Everything to gain.
More importantly…
This was the perfect chance to verify whether his own “Academy Rule” was actually correct.
If this and a few other tests failed…
Well.
Maybe this wasn’t an academy novel after all.
“You really are confident, huh?
Fine.
I’ll stay out of it for now.” Ivan offered no reply.
It was only natural that no one believed him.
Normally, any anti-government organization with even a shred of sanity would never attack a civilian railway.
Train terrorism consumed enormous amounts of manpower.
The instant such an attack occurred, every operative and every intelligence network painstakingly built over years—sometimes decades—would be exposed and destroyed.
The losses vastly outweighed whatever could possibly be gained from blowing up a civilian train.
Even if the objective was assassinating Great King Einar’s beloved eldest daughter.
Unlike killing her while she was staying inside the country, an incident aboard an international train left responsibility somewhat ambiguous.
Diplomatic relations might deteriorate…
But it would be difficult for the situation to escalate into outright war.
Launching a terrorist attack merely to achieve such a limited objective while dramatically increasing everyone’s vigilance was simply bad strategy.
That was why the Krasilof royal family invested no more than the minimum necessary security.
That was the common sense of this world.
A perfectly rational conclusion.
Ivan’s common sense, however, was different.
Because this was a trope.
Four peaceful years had passed since the Demon King disappeared, taking wars and terrorism with him.
It wasn’t strange that Ivan was the only person capable of anticipating a train terrorist attack.
Even if a foreign princess were arriving, everyone else would simply be busy preparing the reception ceremony at the capital’s station.
“I have to do this three more times…” Letting out a deep sigh, Ivan descended onto the station platform.
Excluding the Saintess, there were still four members of the Hero’s Party arriving from overseas.
If terrorist attacks always occurred aboard the Academy entrance trains, then he would have to protect all five entrance train routes.
What an utterly tiresome fantasy world.
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Ivan boarded the train.
*** While Ivan departed toward the border aboard the train, his junior headed for the royal palace to report to his superior.
“Your Highness.
Dmitry Cherkatov reports for duty.” “In the royal court, I am the Minister of the Royal Household.” “Yes, Your Excellency.” The walls, carved from timber and gilded with gold, were dazzling.
The office was absurdly spacious for a single occupant.
The office of Princess Elizaveta Kirillovna Krasilof, Iron-Blood Liza, contained an enormous ebony desk decorated with marble and ivory reliefs.
Beyond the desk, cluttered with mountains of documents, a woman calmly continued writing with her pen.
“Report.” “Sir Petrovich has departed.” “I already know that.” “He suspects a terrorist attack on the train.
He even identified a fairly specific time and location.” Elizaveta’s quill stopped.
“Does Vanka have an informant?” “No.
Over the past four years, there hasn’t been the slightest indication of one.” Intelligence organizations ultimately depended on people.
And people required constant maintenance, support, and careful management.
Without any of those things, it was impossible to suddenly identify an unknown anti-government organization with such precision.
Which meant everything Ivan had said should have been nothing more than speculation.
Yet…
There had been unmistakable certainty in his words.
The same certainty he had possessed four years ago, when departing on his final mission.
Claiming, without a shred of evidence, that a terrorist attack was simply common sense.
Had anyone else made such claims…
Elizaveta would have dismissed them as a lunatic without hesitation.
“Whether this intelligence proves accurate remains to be seen.
But one thing is certain, Your Excellency.” Dmitry smiled bitterly.
“Sir Petrovich is still in peak condition.
His instincts haven’t dulled in the slightest.” Whether the information itself was reliable was secondary.
Ivan had gone alone without requesting reinforcements.
Even if he were wrong, nothing would be lost.
Instead, Dmitry found himself recalling something far more important.
Their first meeting.
For members of the Extermination Unit, erasing one’s presence unconsciously was second nature.
Yet…
Despite a closed door separating them…
Ivan had accurately identified his location and even estimated his height.
Not only that.
He had deliberately revealed his own presence, shifted off the line of attack, lowered his body…and prepared a counterattack.
Even among active agents, such readiness was rare.
The thick sense of foreboding…
The cold killing intent…
The moment Dmitry reached for the doorknob, instinct screamed at him.
Without thinking, he had immediately called out to announce himself.
Had he remained silent…
An axe blade might have flown at him the very next instant.
“Heh…
hehehe.” A quiet laugh drifted across the desk.
According to Dmitry’s memory…
It was the first genuinely cheerful laugh he had heard from her in three years.
“Your Excellency…?” “Assign people to him.” “…Pardon?” “Record every movement Vanka makes.
Every trivial action.
Submit everything as top-priority reports so I can review them at any time.” “Umm…
if you want to see him that badly…
wouldn’t it be easier to go yourself…?” “If I intended to do that, I wouldn’t have spent four years simply watching from afar.” Smiling faintly, Elizaveta resumed writing.
“It is better to reunite…
at a better moment…
with perfect timing.” “…Yes, Your Excellency.” “Enough nonsense.
Go protect the kingdom instead.
Are you that idle?” “…Yes, Your Excellency.
Dmitry Cherkatov takes his leave.” Dmitry withdrew with a conflicted expression.
Really…
Receiving reports about someone’s every single movement wasn’t exactly the most honorable or romantic thing in the world.
At the very least…
He hoped his own lover would never think that way.
With that thought, Dmitry hurried out of the Eastern Palace.
*** When the agents Dmitry had dispatched arrived at Igorevich Station…
They were handed three neatly packaged body bags.
The crime scene had been cleaned so meticulously that even the bloodstains had disappeared.
There was no sign whatsoever of Ivan Petrovich.
By then…
Ivan was already sprinting through the forest with an axe in his hand.