After Erwin entered the capital, he went straight to the royal palace to deliver his report. Bertholdt, meanwhile, was handed over to the Central Military Police, who began transferring him the moment they confirmed his identity.
There was no choice. For now, Erwin had to comply. Openly defying orders would expose their plans before the coup was fully prepared, so compromise was necessary.
Once the Central Military Police had Bertholdt, they immediately transported him to a secret location outside the city. But just after leaving the urban area and entering a sparsely populated zone, unexpected guests appeared.
"Well well, gentlemen."
Kenny emerged with the special anti-personnel squad he had already stationed in ambush. Shotguns were aimed from all directions at the Central Military Police.
As the former king's most trusted enforcer, Kenny knew their structure, routes, and locations inside out. Setting an ambush like this was child's play.
"How about handing him over to us?"
"K-Kenny?!"
The Central Military Police captain clearly recognized him, shock and anger written all over his face. "What do you think you're doing?!"
"What does it look like?" Kenny laughed loudly. "God, you really are an idiot."
He flicked the barrel of his gun casually.
"Since you once bought me a drink, I'll spare your life. Drop your weapons and surrender—now."
"Kenny! Have you lost your mind?! You're going against the King?!"
"The King?" Kenny grinned. "That bastard can barely protect himself anymore. Does he really need me to oppose him?"
He shook his head, clearly losing patience. "Disarm them."
"Yes, sir!"
His men immediately moved toward the Central Military Police. The officers didn't know what to do—fight or surrender—and instinctively looked to their captain.
"Kenny… you've really crossed the line this time," the captain said through clenched teeth. In the end, he still didn't have the nerve to fight back and tossed his gun to the ground.
"I've been crossing lines my whole life," Kenny laughed loudly. "Didn't need you to tell me that! Tie them up!"
To prevent anyone from running back to report what happened, the Central Military Police were all detained for the time being. Kenny then walked over to the carriage they had been escorting, pulled open the curtain, and saw Bertholdt lying inside—gaunt, half-reclined, and unconscious.
"So this is the Colossal Titan, huh?" Kenny smacked his lips. "Wonder what that brat wants him for. Planning to eat him himself? Whatever. None of my business."
With that, he waved his hand. "Let's move."
From that day on, Kenny and his special anti-personnel squad began working with Lillian. It wasn't a subordinate relationship—just cooperation.
Kenny provided brute force, while Lillian promised him a glimpse of the new era to come.
It was a fair deal. Ever since Uri's death, Kenny had pledged loyalty to no one, and Lillian never expected him to be particularly trustworthy anyway.
To be blunt, the two were simply using each other. If Lillian were to lose in the future power struggle, Kenny wouldn't hesitate for a second before turning his guns on him. So it was best to keep things purely transactional—no need for illusions or emotional attachments.
That said, Kenny and his squad were undeniably useful. Lillian was powerful, but he was still just one man. When the real upheaval began, having no subordinates would be unacceptable. Kenny's group could serve as a high-combat-power special unit.
Like now—subduing an equal number of Central Military Police and capturing Bertholdt without breaking a sweat. It saved Lillian from having to personally intervene.
---
Elsewhere, Levi's squad had relocated to a remote hideout—but the Central Military Police still managed to track them down. Fortunately, they withdrew quickly; otherwise, a direct clash would have been inevitable.
Levi and the veterans wouldn't have cared, but the 104th trainees were another matter. They clearly weren't ready to kill fellow humans. Hesitation and mercy could easily lead to casualties on their side, so Levi chose to retreat for now.
That didn't mean he planned to ignore the situation.
"Petra," Levi said to several members of his elite squad, "find a way to capture a couple of them. I've got some questions I want answered."
"No problem, Captain!"
For battle-hardened soldiers, capturing a few Central Military Police was easy. But the symbolic weight of the act was far greater—attacking the Central Military Police was essentially rebellion.
Even though Erwin had never said it outright, the veterans all understood this perfectly. Only the newer recruits showed fear and shock. For them, the gallows awaiting failed coup participants were still a very real nightmare.
---
Stohess District — Stratmann Family
After Lillian paid a visit, Elliot immediately made time to see him. Like everyone else, Elliot had believed Lillian was dead, and the shock was plain on his face.
"Chairman Elliot," Lillian said calmly, "I came today to warn you about something."
"And what would that be?"
Elliot could already sense that something major was coming. Otherwise, Lillian wouldn't have appeared in person.
"There's about to be serious unrest inside the Walls," Lillian said evenly. "When it happens, I hope you don't choose the wrong side. As a friend, I'm giving you advance notice. You should understand—some choices only come once. Choose right and you live. Choose wrong and you die."
"..."
Elliot's fingers trembled slightly as he held his cigarette. He took a deep drag before exhaling slowly.
"I see. That is serious."
He had always believed Lillian was highly capable and destined for greatness. When he heard Lillian had died, he genuinely felt regret. And now—not only was he alive, he had returned with news that hit like a bomb.
A coup was no joke. It was one of the few things in this world that offered no second chances. Once it began, one side would be utterly destroyed. The victors would taste power; the losers would fall into hell—along with everyone who had backed them.
Still…
"Then may I ask," Elliot said carefully, "which side are you representing, Lillian?"
"What do you think?"
"..."
There was no real need to ask. Elliot was already certain Lillian stood with the anti-monarchist faction.
The real problem was that Elliot didn't know who else was involved. How many people? How much support? Were there major noble families backing it? Those factors would determine success or failure—especially the last one.
Under the political system inside the Walls, a coup without noble support was almost guaranteed to fail. Most state revenue came from the nobility; if they cut funding, the government would grind to a halt. Elliot didn't believe Lillian was ignorant of this. So if he was moving forward anyway, it meant he had confidence—or something even stronger backing him.
Elliot considered the possibility that the military was planning a united coup. But even that was fraught with danger. Many soldiers—and officers—came from noble families themselves. Asking them to turn on their own class was hardly realistic.
People often imagine that oppressed citizens can be suppressed easily by the military—but they forget who the military actually consists of. Most soldiers are commoners. Force them to kill their own friends and family, and the gun barrels will turn around instantly.
The situation inside the Walls was somewhat unique, however.
The Military Police numbered only around two thousand, largely made up of noble offspring and elite commoners. And once commoners entered that elite environment, they quickly shed their former identity, desperately trying to ingratiate themselves with the aristocracy.
They would curse the poor louder than anyone else—much like how the most vicious critics of the lower class often come from those just barely above it.
The Garrison, however, was different.
With roughly three thousand soldiers, it was composed mostly of diligent but less talented commoners. Their combat strength was formidable. In truth, they were the main reason Pixis dared to involve himself in a coup.
As Lillian watched Elliot remain silent, he knew the man was struggling. As head of the family, choosing the wrong side meant dragging his entire lineage into ruin—no one would escape the reckoning. Yet refusing to choose wasn't really an option either. Lillian was already here.
Strictly speaking, a merchant guild operating in an outer district didn't need to get involved in politics at all. As long as they made money, they could simply bribe whoever won and live peacefully.
Joining the struggle meant high risk and high reward—something more aggressive guilds might attempt. Elliot, however, wasn't eager to gamble.
But Lillian had another reason for coming.
Money.
Zachary had decades of connections and countless allies among the nobility—funding was never an issue for him. Lillian, on the other hand, had no such foundation. If he were only supporting himself, it wouldn't matter—but he intended to bring over a hundred people from the Underground City into the open. For that, money was essential.
So Elliot was the natural choice.
And frankly, this was no longer a matter of whether Elliot wanted to help—he had no real choice.
"…I understand," Elliot said at last after a long silence. He looked Lillian straight in the eyes.
"Then I'll place my entire family's stake on you."
Lillian nodded and shook his hand.
"Time will prove that you made the right choice."