The Saga of Tanya the Evil, Vol. 12: Mundus Vult Decipi, Ergo Decipiatur, page 1
Copyright
The Saga of Tanya the Evil, Vol. 12
Carlo Zen
Translation by Richard Tobin
Cover art by Shinobu Shinotsuki
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
YOJO SENKI Vol. 12 Mundus Vult Decipi, Ergo Decipiatur
©Carlo Zen 2020
First published in Japan in 2020 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo.
English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo through TUTTLE-MORI AGENCY, INC., Tokyo.
English translation © 2023 by Yen Press, LLC
Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Yen On
150 West 30th Street, 19th Floor
New York, NY 10001
Visit us at yenpress.com
facebook.com/yenpress
twitter.com/yenpress
yenpress.tumblr.com
instagram.com/yenpress
First Yen On Edition: September 2023
Edited by Yen On Editorial: Ivan Liang
Designed by Yen Press Design: Wendy Chan
Yen On is an imprint of Yen Press, LLC.
The Yen On name and logo are trademarks of Yen Press, LLC.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Zen, Carlo, author. | Shinotsuki, Shinobu, illustrator. | Balistrieri, Emily, translator. | Steinbach, Kevin, translator. | Tobin, Richard, translator.
Title: Saga of Tanya the evil / Carlo Zen ; illustration by Shinobu Shinotsuki ; translation by Emily Balistrieri, Kevin Steinbach
Other titles: Yōjo Senki. English
Description: First Yen On edition. | New York : Yen ON, 2017–
Identifiers: LCCN 2017044721 | ISBN 9780316512442 (v. 1 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316512466 (v. 2 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316512480 (v. 3 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316560627 (v. 4 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316560696 (v. 5 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316560719 (v. 6 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316560740 (v. 7 : pbk.) | ISBN 9781975310493 (v. 8 : pbk.) | ISBN 9781975310868 (v. 9 : pbk.) | ISBN 9781975310523 (v. 10 : pbk.) |ISBN 9781975310547 (v. 11 : pbk.) | ISBN 9781975323523 (v. 12 : pbk.)
Classification: LCC PL878.E6 Y6513 2017 | DDC 895.63/6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017044721
ISBNs: 978-1-9753-2352-3 (paperback)
978-1-9753-2353-0 (ebook)
E3-20230823-JV-NF-ORI
Contents
Cover
Insert
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 0: Prologue
Chapter I: The World’s Enemy
Chapter II: The Stage
Chapter III: An Appointment
Chapter IV: A Temporary Visitor
Chapter V: Hard Work
Chapter VI: The Logistics of War
Appendixes: World Affairs
Afterword
Yen Newsletter
[chapter] 0 Prologue
Loria was furious.
“Zeeettooouuurrr.”
He was determined to erase that con artist turned wicked tyrant from the face of the planet.
“You…you dirty!!! Rotten!!! Bastard!!! You filthy fraud!!!”
Loria knew nothing of honor and justice. He was a hunter who embraced the insatiable emotions that drove him.
Exploiting his position as the head of the Federation’s secret police, he picked his prey at their ripest and lived his life as he pleased.
This changed, however, the moment he discovered true love. Now, Loria was filled with nothing but a singular thought.
“Aaaah! My purest feelings! My swelling love! How dare that disgusting man ruin our happiness!”
Naturally, the beloved he spoke of was a certain fairy. And the villain who had the gall to steal Loria’s joy in picking his precious flower was an absolute bastard who had no problem ruining the perfect love story.
Loria was well aware of the identity of the towering pile of shit that stood in his way—Zettour. That bastard was an unforgivable being of pure evil.
“Huff, phoo, haaagh…”
His breaths came hard and fast.
Although the hunter’s rage was fueled by a true and noble love, he knew he couldn’t allow his mental fortitude to lose ground to his burning passion. He slowly let the air fill his lungs before whispering his newfound resolution.
“I’ll kill you. I swear I’ll butcher you. You…you scoundrel…”
Loria clenched his fist until it was angry red. He had slammed it against the wall before coming to the realization that his rage was growing borderline illogical.
“I must accept it…”
I, too, have been had.
The Unified States boasted the world’s largest industrialized economy and was currently waiting on the edge of its seat for an opportunity to enter the Old World’s war. The opportunity finally presented itself when the Empire attacked Ildoa. This was the perfect justification for a preemptive, preventative attack.
From the outside, it looked like the Empire had made a mistake—shall we say, screwing the proverbial pooch—and it was true. The entire world watched in shock.
Despite being bogged down by their war with the Federation, the Imperial Army executed their attack with lightning speed, which was a spectacle in and of itself. However, what should’ve been very obvious to the Empire was that its invasion of Ildoa came at what seemed like mere days after the forming an alliance of armed neutrality with the Unified States.
Thus, it was only natural for the Unified States to rush in and aid their new ally. This outcome was as plain as day to all observers. The Imperial leadership would’ve had to be sick in the head if they assumed the Unified States would sit by and idly watch the blitzkrieg play out from the sidelines. That was why the world was shocked by what had transpired. Everyone was in awe of the war maniacs known as the Imperial Army.
Now, it should be made clear that even Loria couldn’t figure out what the goal was at first.
The Empire had achieved nothing more than a tactical victory, or perhaps a series of Pyrrhic victories.
But nevertheless! Even so!
Whether it be plotting, scheming, conspiring, or whatever one may fancy—Loria had a bit more experience in the trickery department compared to the general populace.
With the unwavering compass that was love guiding him, he would not be outdone.
It was his pure, unclouded eyes that allowed Loria to quickly deduce the truth, and this was why he was furious…at that piece of shit, Zettour!
What a terrible, vile scoundrel!
“How could I have missed this?!”
There certainly had been a sign, though only one, and it had come in the form of an ominous turn of events. This fact was what annoyed Loria to no end.
It happened just the other day. At the time, Loria was processing a ludicrously thorough report he’d received from a certain gentleman mole he had planted in the Commonwealth Intelligence Agency.
He remembered the exact moment he received the report from one of his subordinates, and the exact words he said in response.
“So the Albion chaps pulled off their assassination? And you’re sure about this?”
“We have five separate sources confirming this information. Apparently they’ve eliminated a group of real troublemakers.”
Loria let his numbskull subordinate’s tactless “congratulations” slide because he was giddy at the fact it was a group assassination.
“A group, you say. Splendid news.”
“Yes, Rudersdorf will no longer pose a threat to our great nation.”
Wait. Loria’s brow heavily furrowed.
“Comrade, were both threats dealt with? Or only one?”
“What?”
“Rudersdorf and Zettour. That pair of devils. Both of them are dead, yes?”
“No…only the deputy director, according to our intel. However, he was killed with his entire entourage of General Staff officers.”
Loria was openly disappointed by that answer.
“What a pity. Those boys from the Commonwealth should’ve made the con artist their target.”
He still remembered the long sigh he gave before treating the news like any other and giving the usual orders to his subordinates to send along thanks to their mole in the Commonwealth…
That was it. He’d already lost interest in the entire ordeal.
This was only natural. For Loria, the death of a random strategist meant nothing if it wasn’t the vile con artist who so trampled all over his love. This apathy, however, was a massive failure on his part.
It was actually in the same room he had received the news
“That…that filthy con artist! Zettour! He returned home the minute his friend died! How did we let such important information slip through our fingers… And now…you…!”
Zettour now had full control over the Imperial Army, and he was the one who had spearheaded the full-scale attack on Ildoa after the announcement of an alliance with the Unified States.
“You attacked Ildoa! Zettour, you insufferable piece of shit! You went and attacked Ildoa?!”
At this specific stage of the war. At this specific timing.
For Loria, who was preoccupied with both his love and the war, the cunning and underhanded motivation of the attack was as clear as day.
“You’ve raised yet another obstacle on my path to love!”
Loria was a simple man. He lived for his passion. He wanted to do one thing and one thing only: to taste the fruits of his love with a certain fairy before the passage of time ruined her.
“Why must you and the world reject my purest of feelings?!”
Loria cursed the wicked and evil embodiment of humanity that was General Zettour.
“What a tragedy. We… I don’t have much time left.”
Loria was left with a looming feeling of unease. His heart was plagued with anxiety as he wondered just how much time he had left.
“Time is my enemy. This is always the case.”
It was a race against the clock to pick his fruit and consume it before it was too ripe. He certainly wasn’t one for rotten apples.
Oh, how few things compare to plucking a flower in full bloom!
There was a specific flower Loria had in mind, one that could only wait so long before it was too late. She was a cheeky little flower, who loved playing tricks on him—his thorny little angel. Degurechaff was her name, and she was ripe for the plucking. God forbid she grew too much and her petals fell before he got his chance.
“I’m running out of time!”
Loria was literally shaking at the thought of his ideal prey vanishing off the face of the earth.
From everyone else’s perspective, it would be much better if his love never saw fruition. Loria himself was a stain on the world, objectively speaking. The perverted predator cried out in agony because his bottomless lack of self-awareness painted him a picture in which he was somehow the victim in all of this.
“If such a thing came to pass, it would be nothing less than a tragedy.”
Should he miss his chance, the regret would surely be the end of him. At the very least, he was losing hair over it, mostly because he kept pulling more out due to stress.
“Ah, damn it, I need more time.”
[chapter] I The World’s Enemy
NOVEMBER 21, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, THE GENERAL STAFF OFFICE AT THE IMPERIAL CAPITAL
In the innermost room of the General Staff Office, General Zettour sat quietly. He was using the Army’s bastion of tranquility and intelligence as a spot for a quick breather.
Though hardly comparable to the eastern front, the capital was growing increasingly colder. Winter was upon the Empire. Before the war, those with wealth and standing would often go abroad, seeking warmer climes elsewhere.
Unfortunately, the war raged on. With the current state of things, not even the nobility could hope to take their annual trip down south for the winter months.
It was so bad that there was even concern as to whether or not there would be enough fuel for civilian use this year.
The General Staff Office was already feeling the cold.
“I suppose I’m lucky.”
General Zettour muttered to himself with a wry smile.
Luck had nothing to do with it. Thanks to the war, he would be one of the few who got to head south this year for the Ildoan campaign.
Under different circumstances, it probably would’ve been an enjoyable trip.
“That’s it for the paperwork. All that’s left is my luggage.”
He scanned the room until he spotted a wicker trunk. One of his orderlies had prepared it for him.
“I told him to make it light.”
Zettour grimaced at the trunk.
His orderly likely thought that a trunk was the limit. In fact, a ranking general of the Empire traveling so lightly would’ve been unheard of prior to the war.
Were those still the times they lived in, Zettour would’ve complimented the packing job. Alas, there was no room for praise.
“Well this just won’t do. There’s no room for an entire trunk on a fighter.”
He rubbed his chin and let out a sigh before reaching for the tightly packed trunk. He was satisfied to find his orderly had at least done a good job organizing its contents. It didn’t take more than a few minutes to repack what he needed into a single rucksack.
“That should do it.”
With his preparations now finished, the general had a little free time until his next and final appointment before his departure. It wasn’t much time, but he could afford to take a smoke break. It would be his last breather before he crammed himself into a fighter headed for Ildoa. The flight would be a stark difference from the luxurious train ride that once connected the two friendly nations. He would no doubt be as tightly packed into the plane as his belongings were in his rucksack. The fighter in question was an instrument of war, after all. They weren’t built with roomy interiors in mind. It was pretty much the most uncomfortable means of transportation that could be found. But…the discomfort was a small price to pay if it meant he could get to his destination in one piece.
That being said, this would be his last cigar for a while, seeing as smoking was absolutely not allowed on board.
“I’d better smoke while I still can.”
He took out a well-maintained case of cigars from his desk. The attention to humidity control was a sign that even the idiot Rudersdorf was capable of paying attention to finer details when it came to things he liked. Zettour recalled his old friend’s face as he blew out his first plume of dark gray smoke with an unpleasant expression on his face. Then Zettour watched the smoke dissipate as it reached the ceiling of the General Staff Deputy Director’s office.
Given the time of year, the fact that the only visible wisps came from his own cold, white breath made for a sad sight. Zettour yearned for the sound of a crackling fire in the hearth. When the cigar smoke disappeared, all it revealed was the same old lifeless roof he sat under.
“I really wanted to decorate the ceiling with a nice painting, but it doesn’t look like I’ll get the chance.”
He had no time to be picky about his office’s appearance.
“Things are bound to get busy soon enough.”
Time, time, time. Time was the law that ruled over all. Zettour effectively spent his days running away from time as it relentlessly chased him down. The Empire was like a train about to leave the station, and it was his job to make sure the horribly sluggish train that finally began running its course did so on time.
Would it make its trip on time, or would it suffer delays? Could he even keep it on the tracks? The point of departure was now, and the destination was tomorrow, but where would it go next? The answer to that was as painfully clear as it was terrifying should he fail in his role as conductor.
The weight of his duty made him want to tremble, so much so that he even began to grow antsy during his brief smoke break.
His train’s final destination was the Heimat’s future. Derailment meant the end of the Reich.
It was a heavy burden for him to bear. His shoulder gave a quick spasm that was unrelated to the cold office temperature. He continued to fill his lungs with cigar smoke.
“My word. This really hits the spot.”
Another sigh left his mouth as he glanced at his watch.
It is funny how time seems to move so slow only when you’re feeling impatient.
There was still a bit of time before he had to go see Counselor Conrad, the person waiting for him at his next meeting.
He was set to meet him before departing, but as their appointment was scheduled immediately before the flight, this idle moment felt annoyingly long.
Everything seemed to be like that as of late. The general was overcome with an unshakable restlessness whenever he found himself at a standstill.
“I’m starting to understand why that idiot Rudersdorf was always so uncharacteristically in a rush.”
Zettour would carry this burden on his own. He had the weight of the entire Imperial Army pressing down on his shoulders.
