# The Reason for the United Kingdom
When students ask Ivan why it's called a "United" Kingdom, he usually tells them to look at the train route map.
This massive railway network, which once transported military supplies during the war against the Demon King, functions as a vein connecting not only cities but also nations.
These metal beasts could traverse distances that would take over ten days by carriage in just three or four days. They were the true heroes of the last war.
"Who's arriving first?"
"It's Einarr from Droan, senior. Princess Asidis is scheduled to depart first!"
"But it's still January?"
"That's what I'm saying. Who travels all the way to a foreign land two months early just to wait for enrollment day? A royal, no less. What an inconvenience."
The fellow said with a sly smile.
"Princess Asidis seems to have had a hard time back home. In Droan! Those country bumpkins probably don't appreciate musical instruments."
"...Musical instruments...?"
"Oh, didn't I mention this? Princess Asidis applied to the music department. Orchestral division, violin major. Amazing, right? The bloodline of 'the' Great King Einarr becoming a violinist."
Ivan paused momentarily upon hearing this.
The Einarr he remembered, before becoming the Great King—when he was a member of the Hero Party—was a madman who wielded two axes, collecting orc heads in the morning and taurus heads in the evening.
"Hahaha, look here, 'Little' Ivan! This is how you swing an axe!!"
Don't daughters usually take after their fathers...?
No, that's not right.
Though it was several years ago, Ivan vaguely recalled Asidis as a frail little child. One who adored her father.
In truth, she hardly resembled him at all. Fortunately for everyone.
Either way, the world's strongest music student was about to be born. Ivan left this brief impression.
Asidis might not have resembled her father in appearance or personality, but she was certainly his equal when it came to wielding an axe.
"By the way, senior, is that information reliable? Will there really be a train terrorist attack?"
"Yes."
"By whom? Well... there are too many suspects to name, but... even so, she's the daughter of Great King Einarr. If caught, they'd face the Blood Eagle."
The Blood Eagle is the most preferred folk game among Droan citizens. It holds roughly the same status as playing yut during holidays or swinging on a swing during Dano Festival. (At least they're similar in that many people watch it.)
The details are too horrific to explain to civilized citizens of the Krasilov Kingdom.
"If you take the most direct route from Droan to St. Yansk University, it's here."
Ivan ignored the fellow's words and traced a solid line on the route map.
Transport Route 12.
One of the trade routes connecting the Krasilov Kingdom to the Droan Kingdom.
"And I predict it will be here, Igorevich Station. This area is most likely."
"How can you be so sure...? Terrorists don't usually announce their location in advance. Senior, do you have someone planted there?"
"Because they'll strike at the border."
Ivan doesn't know who will carry out the attack. He can't predict it.
That's because he's retired from the front lines and has no connections with intelligence agencies.
But he can make educated guesses.
Assuming the terrorist attack itself is a constant,
Now he just needs to figure out the "why," "who," and "how" one by one.
"The target of the attack will be Princess Asidis."
"Well, um... if there really is an attack, then yes."
"Why would that be?"
"...Pardon?"
Of course, it would be to create conflict between Krasilov and Droan.
That much is obvious.
"Then the attack won't happen south of the Droan border. To shift blame to the Krasilov Kingdom, it would have to take place within our borders."
"Um... yes, I suppose so."
"But after passing Igorevich Station, this route goes through three military districts."
No matter how vulnerable trains might be to attacks, that's not the case in military zones.
Not all parts of the route are surrounded by military zones, but it does pass through at least three military camps.
This is fundamentally a remnant of the railway being designed for military purposes.
"And naturally, security becomes tighter as you get closer to the capital. Therefore, Igorevich Station is the most vulnerable point."
"Oh... yes, that makes sense."
"What's Princess Asidis's scheduled departure time?"
"The 12 o'clock train two days from now."
"Then she'll arrive around 10 AM four days from now. If I leave now, the timing would be perfect."
Ivan folded the route map and nodded.
His junior stared blankly at his face for a moment before smiling and saying:
"Do you really have something? I don't think you received a prophecy, and I've never heard that you could make predictions during your active duty. I could request agents for terrorist suppression, but I'd need evidence to convince my superiors."
"Then shall we make a bet?"
"...A bet?"
"Without field support. Let's just see the results."
Ivan turned to his junior with a slight smile.
There couldn't be any evidence. He couldn't have informants either. But the attack would happen. Because it was "common sense."
He didn't have the time or inclination to convince anyone about this issue. There would be several more instances of such "common sense" in the future, and how could he convince people every time?
So Ivan decided to cut it off at the first button. Besides, he was confident.
If no attack occurred, there would be minimal burden since he hadn't requested support in the first place.
If an attack did occur, his words would gain serious credibility from then on. He would have saved the daughter of Hiking, after all.
Additionally, Hiking Einarr wouldn't have sent his most beloved daughter alone. Naturally, she would have an entourage.
'But if the attack is a constant, it means the perpetrators are confident they can handle all of Asidis's attendants.'
It was a win-win situation with much to gain.
Moreover, Ivan could verify whether his "Academy Formula" was correct. If this and a few other tests failed, well, this might not be an academy story after all.
"You seem really confident. Fine, I'll stay out of it for now."
Ivan didn't bother to respond. It was natural not to believe him.
Normally, no sane anti-government group would carry out a terrorist attack on a civilian transport railway.
Train terrorism typically consumes numerous human resources. From the moment the incident occurs, all related personnel—the human intelligence network built over years or decades—would be lost.
What they lose far outweighs what they gain by merely blowing up a civilian railway.
This remains true even if the goal is to assassinate the beloved eldest daughter of Great King Einarr.
Unlike an assassination during a domestic stay, incidents on trains have somewhat ambiguous responsibility. In other words, diplomatic relations might cool, but it's difficult for that to escalate beyond conflict.
Carrying out an attack for such a modest goal and unnecessarily raising vigilance is a poor strategy. Therefore, the Krasilov royal family invests no more than minimal security.
That is the "common sense" of people in this world. Rational reasoning and judgment.
However, Ivan's "common sense" was different. This was a formula.
In these peaceful four years since the disappearance of the Demon King along with ominous events like terrorism and conflicts.
It wasn't strange that only Ivan could anticipate something like a train terrorist attack.
Even if a foreign princess were entering the country, preparations would only be made at the capital station.
"I'll have to do this at least three more times."
Ivan sighed deeply as he descended to the train platform. Excluding the Saintess, there were four members of the Hero Party departing from foreign countries.
If a terrorist attack were to occur on the academy "enrollment train," he would have to protect all five of their train routes.
This damn otherworld.
Ivan pressed his brow firmly as he boarded the train.
When Ivan departed by train for the border area, his junior headed to the palace to dutifully report to his superior.
"Your Highness. Dmitri Cherkatov has arrived at court."
"At court, I am the Minister of the Royal Household."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
Elaborate inner walls carved from raw wood and gilded.
An office ridiculously spacious for just one person.
In the office owned by Princess Elizabeta Kirillovna Krasilov, the Iron-Blooded Liza, there was a massive ebony desk embossed with marble and ivory.
Beyond the desk cluttered with numerous documents, a woman was casually playing with her pen.
"Report."
"Lord Petrovich has departed."
"Tell me something I don't know."
"He suspects a train terrorist attack. Quite clearly about the date and location."
Hearing this, Elizabeta stopped her quill pen.
"Does Vanka have informants?"
"No, there's been no indication of that in the past four years."
An intelligence organization is ultimately about human resources. And all human resources require consistent management and proper maintenance as essential components.
It meant it was impossible to accurately identify an "unidentified anti-government group" for an assigned mission without any support or management.
So even though his actions were all based on conjecture, there was a kind of "certainty" felt from him.
Just like four years ago, when he left for his last mission.
Just like claiming that terrorist attacks happening is common sense without any evidence.
If anyone other than Ivan had made such a claim, Elizabeta would have judged them a "madman" without hesitation.
"We'll see about this information in due time, but Lord Petrovich is still active. Your Excellency. His edge hasn't dulled at all."
The reliability of the information is secondary. Since Ivan left alone without requesting support, there's no loss even if the information turns out to be wrong.
Dmitri recalled something more important and shuddered slightly. It was when he first went to meet Ivan.
Naturally suppressing one's presence in an unconscious state is a basic skill for the Annihilation Squad.
But after accurately identifying the position and height of an unseen opponent beyond a closed door.
The attitude of revealing his presence, stepping aside from the line of fire, and preparing for a counterattack is a training state difficult to find even among active agents.
The visceral premonition and dry killing intent felt the moment the doorknob turned.
At that moment, raising his voice to alert Ivan of his position was instinctual. If he had kept quiet, an axe blade might have flown at him in the next instant.
"Heh, heheh."
A small laugh was heard from across the table.
According to Dmitri's memory, it was the first pleasant laugh he'd heard in three years.
"Your Excellency...?"
"Assign someone. Record Vanka's every move, even the most trivial actions, and bring them to me. As an urgent report, so I can check it anytime."
"Th-that... If you want to see him so badly, wouldn't it be better to go in person...?"
"If that were the case, I wouldn't have just been receiving reports for four years."
Elizabeta smiled slightly and moved her quill pen again.
"It's right to reunite at a better moment, at a more perfect timing."
"Ah, yes..."
"Stop talking nonsense and go protect the country. Are you that idle?"
"...Yes, Your Excellency. I, Dmitri Cherkatov, shall take my leave."
Dmitri left with a disgruntled expression.
No, is meticulously reporting someone's every move a decent or romantic thing to do?
At least hoping his lover didn't think so, Dmitri hurriedly left the East Palace.
When the agents dispatched by Dmitri arrived at Igorevich Station, they received three neatly packaged body bags.
Ivan Petrovich was nowhere to be found at the crime scene, which had been thoroughly cleaned of bloodstains.
At that point, Ivan was running through the forest with an axe in hand.