Chapter 44: Information Is the True Weapon
Zenon had secluded himself in his mansion.
But it wasn’t mere isolation.
His room had now become a command center for an information war in the royal capital.
“…That concludes the record of the main figures’ statements at the Prime Minister’s soirée last night.”
A man in a mouse-gray cloak finished his quiet report before Zenon.
His face was carved with deep wrinkles, and his eyes carried the sharpness and wariness unique to someone who had long survived in the underworld.
These were the “informants” Gray had hired the moment he arrived in the capital—using money, as instructed.
At first, Gray had hesitated at his lord’s command.
As a knight, he found it deeply dishonorable to deal with such shady individuals.
But Zenon’s orders were absolute.
“You must swallow both the clean and the dirty. That’s the essence of information warfare. A knight’s pride serves no purpose here.”
Zenon quickly skimmed through the informant’s report.
It detailed which nobles belonged to which factions, who secretly opposed whom,
who was buried in debt, and who was hiding a scandal.
Behind the glittering banter of noble gatherings, a vivid map of raw political struggle was being drawn.
“I see… Marquis Barclay, the Minister of Finance, is opposed to Prince Alphonse’s aggressive military expansion. He fears national bankruptcy. …That could be useful.”
“The Duke of Wellington, Minister of Foreign Affairs, favors easing tensions with neighboring nations and dislikes the prince’s hardline diplomacy. …Interesting.”
Zenon categorized the data in his mind at lightning speed, filing each noble under two tags: ‘Weakness’ and ‘Leverage.’
Outwardly, he ignored the social scene entirely— but behind the scenes, he was already the man who understood the capital’s web of relationships and power dynamics better than anyone.
“Next task.”
He handed the informant a new parchment and a heavy pouch of gold coins.
“Investigate every financial transaction of the nobles on this list for the past five years.
Focus on money that doesn’t appear in official ledgers. Follow the flow of gold, and you’ll uncover their true desires—and their weaknesses.”
The list was full of the young conservative nobles surrounding Prince Alphonse.
The informant weighed the gold, grinned, and flashed his crooked teeth.
“Heh. Easy job, boss. In this city, there’s no secret money can’t buy.”
Then he vanished soundlessly into the corridor.
“…Zenon-sama.”
Gray, who had silently observed the exchange with a conflicted expression, finally spoke up.
“To pry into people’s weaknesses like this… is that truly the right thing to do?”
His sense of knightly ethics was screaming in protest.
Zenon looked at him as though genuinely puzzled.
“Right? Wrong? I don’t care for such unproductive distinctions.”
He replied flatly.
“This is war, Gray. And information is the most powerful weapon in it. The one who gathers more—and more accurate—information wins. That’s all there is to it.”
“But still…”
“Would you cross swords on the battlefield without knowing whether your enemy is right- or left-handed? Would you order a charge without knowing their formation or supply route?”
“…Of course not.”
“Then it’s the same thing.”
Zenon’s voice was firm and clear.
“What I’m doing is no different. I’m analyzing the enemy’s strength, searching for their weak points, and crafting the most efficient path to victory. Only the battlefield has changed—from a muddy plain to a glittering ballroom. The essence is the same.”
His logic was so cold and uncompromising that Gray could no longer argue.
Perhaps his lord was right.
Perhaps it was only his own outdated sense of chivalry that made him hesitate.
The world Zenon saw was far beyond his understanding.
Even as Gray wrestled with his conscience, Zenon’s intelligence network expanded rapidly.
He paid everyone—maids, merchants, even beggars—to gather information.
“Prince Alphonse visits the Royal Guard’s training grounds every morning.”
“The Prime Minister is a severe sweet tooth and secretly visits a particular confectioner.”
“The stern Finance Minister is rumored to be infatuated with a young opera singer.”
To others, these were mere bits of gossip.
But within Zenon’s mind, each fragment combined and connected,
forming a complete picture of personalities, habits, and behavioral patterns.
He sought to understand his enemies— not as data points, but as human beings with emotions and desires.
It was his first analytical foray into the very thing he had always dismissed as irrational: the human heart.
Then, the day before the royal audience—
An informant arrived with the final report.
It contained undeniable proof of corruption among Prince Alphonse’s circle of young nobles:
Diversion of military supplies.
Extortion of merchants through tax privileges.
And records of royal funds embezzled for personal indulgence.
“…Bingo.”
Zenon murmured, closing the report.
A faint, cold smile—like that of a chess master completing his perfect strategy—crossed his lips.
All the pieces were in place.
“Gray.”
“Yes, my lord!”
“Prepare for tomorrow’s audience. Have the final version of the presentation copied neatly.
And bring my most intimidating formal attire.”
“Yes, sir!”
In the depths of Zenon’s blue eyes, a quiet yet absolute certainty of victory burned.
He knew who his allies and enemies were,
where to strike,
and what blade to thrust into the enemy’s heart.
While the nobles mocked him as a “reclusive coward,”
he had already pressed an unseen dagger against their throats.
Information is the true weapon.
And now, the man who wielded that weapon with unmatched cold precision
was quietly walking toward the stage of his decisive battle.