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Rakuin no Monshou:Volume3 Chapter3

2022-07-21T23:38:55Z

98.113.91.34:

==Chapter 3: Territory Marking==
===Part 1===
By the time their whole party arrived at the front gates of Apta Fortress, the sun was about to set.

The fortress walls towered over them with its overwhelming height.

On the tip of the protruding spires spread across the walls were raised Mephian and Garberan flags. They likely spotted Orba approaching through the crenel, for Orba saw the Garberan flags ahead of him taken down. That was proof of the transfer.

“That was quite the adventure.”

Shique joked, smiling at Orba who rode beside him, but Orba did not say anything back.

''This is Apta.''

The weather-beaten ramparts, the shadows of the spires that stood out like the head of a black demon under the dusk, and the distant voices of what felt like those of wild beasts and birds blending into the soldier’s chatter—

This was the fortress his brother Roan had been in. And this was also the place he had thought to one day go himself, bearing a single sword on him.

The gates opened with a creak, the sound dispelling the emotions Orba was harbouring. The bridge lowered and the Garberan knights assembled on the path connecting the fortress past the deeply dug trench. Standing in front and offering a respectful bow to Orba was a long-haired man clad in a robe—Garbera’s Noue Salzantes.

Orba got off his horse and exchanged greetings with Noue.

“I’ve been awaiting you, your highness. Did you happen to take a detour?”

“We were attacked by beasts dwelling in the woods. Recently, these beasts have made leaps, and can even handle guns.”

“You mean…”

Noue’s eyes widened. As for whether this was all an act or not, Orba had considered trying to read his face, but his opponent was far more proficient in the use of this variant of subterfuge and he immediately gave up the thought.

''If he were trying to kill us, he would’ve planned other ways.''

In addition, were Gil Mephius to die now, it was Noue who would be most troubled. Along the way, he had reviewed all the information at his disposal and came to a conclusion. Why Noue had tried to cause turmoil in Mephius—and why he would go as far as to sacrifice Vileena’s life to do it—

The answer he arrived at hinted the movements Noue would take from here on.

''Whether it’ll go the way I think is another story.''

With the uproar over the rebellion in Solon, he fully realised his own shortage in experience and knowledge. Precisely the reason why he now tread cautiously. He sought information in great volumes. All that remained was to rely on his animalistic senses. Relying on his senses certainly did not seem very dependable, but...

''Even then, these are the senses that helped me narrowly escape death. They’re nothing to make light of.''

In the end, the final thing Orba turned to was the feeling of the sword he lived by.

The citizens of Apta received Prince Gil’s troops proceeding down its streets with waves of acclaim. Those who moved here from Garbera had already returned to their own country. The population’s entirety were residents of Mephius since over six years past. The changing of the sovereign or country that governed them made little difference to their lives. Truly, Orba, whose hometown was near Apta, was also not particularly conscious of the ‘Mephius name’.

Crossing through the centre of town, they ascended the hill and entered the castle keep. People were running about inside the passage, the fortress soldiers and craftsmen clamouring.

A feast had already been prepared within the banquet halls; beer and food were bountiful.

As he gave a side glance to the soldiers feasting in this welcoming party, Orba exchanged a toast with Noue.

“I’d have never imagined the princess would come here.”

“It’s father’s worldly discretion. This will one day be my castle. It was better to get accustomed to here, was his reasoning.”

“Here will?” Noue questioned, seeming somewhat careful with his choice of words. “That should not last for long. After all, your highness is the first successor to the imperial throne.”

“It isn’t too bad relaxing here in these rurals either. And also, I’d be getting used to the status of a castle lord, am i right?”

“That, certainly holds true.”

During their conversation, Noue never got into discussing the nature of Garbera and Ende’s relations. Orba had also been amassing information from various sources. The other day, a messenger from Garbera had visited Solon, but the emperor on account of being busy refused even a meeting.

The moment he heard this, the image of the dispirited young girl he saw in Birac had flashed in his mind. It accompanied feelings of anger. However, like Noue, Orba dared not speak of this.

“Lord Noue, when will you be departing from here?”

“Once the transference has come to pass, we all have our various tasks. The moment that settles—yes, I’d say five days from now.”

Of course, whether it was Zaj or Noue, he could not probe their intentions simply by talking to them face to face. They were men a cut above the rest.

''Five days later, huh.''

At that time, things would be set into motion—that was what Orba read.

The following morning, Orba wandered the fortress interior.

A fortress city. These fortress quarters served as both a place of command and living quarters for Orba and his soldiers, and situated atop the hillside across the entire northeastern tip. These bulky fortress walls stretched around to enclose an urban area housing a population of five thousand.

The western ramparts, the only location where the walls were low, stood over a 50 metre cliff. The Yunos River flowed directly under it, also demarcating the border.

The cliff, which was just as well a wall of nature, towered almost vertically over the river. But in a spot spread across some few hundreds of metres in the north, the slope gentled. On that cliff was a road, as if carved by a knife, that meandered upwards until finally reaching the northern gates.

“That is the transport route for goods through the Yunos River,” a soldier appointed as guide explained.

With the exception of the west side, all gates were guarded by watchtowers and spires. And there were also terraced hillslopes and mounted artillery around the northern and southern gates. The northern encampment also came into contact with the cliff, on the off-chance the enemy invaded by air from the west. Furthermore, runways were prepared above the fortress walls running between the eastern and western urban districts, so air defensive measures were also taken care of.

An impregnable fortress.

''If I’m to trust Zaj Haman’s information...''

Ax Bazgan did not own a very large air force. Which meant he had no choice but to go the roundabout way, directly attacking from the north or south.

Or, the possibility the enemy might come ferrying across the Yunos River wasn’t nil, but the Yunos River’s current was fast, and with there being nowhere to use to take shelter, the risk of being showered in a rain of bullets and arrows until they finished crossing proved high.

''That is, assuming sufficient numbers of soldiers are deployed there.''

To begin with, this wasn’t a location he could satisfactorily spread out 200-300 soldiers to form a line of defense. The number of soldiers just weren’t enough to deploy to constantly man all the cannons, watchtowers, or gates.

''I guess it’ll be fine as long as we see them. By the time the enemy comes close, we’ll be ready.''

Of course, in the fortress was not only the soldiers, but also a great many attendants, slaves, and artisans, of particular note being the armoursmiths, chefs, and blacksmiths. The majority of them were people who worked in the fort since before the land had been taken by Garbera. Their allegiance to a country was shallow, as they appeared to have continued working as usual, only this time, for Garbera.

“Meaning, they continued happily eating Mephius-made bread here too.”

“That stuff doesn’t even taste good.”

Orba joked around while walking accompanied by the ‘Orba pretender’ Kain.

He had noticed Kain getting used to the fanged tiger mask as of late.

Then again, his personality was childish as ever.

Throughout the day, they climbed the respective towers sticking their heads over the crenel, inspected the locations of the stables their warhorses were kept in and the locations of the smiths where they forged swords and armours, going as far as to visit the powder mills.

As he did, an imperial guard and also former slave rushed over and kneeled before him. “Woops,” Kain said, re-adjusting his manner of behaviour. Naturally, even though they were the imperial guards, Kain needed to hide the fact that he was occasionally disguised as Orba as the majority were not aware the prince and Orba were one and the same.

“How was it?”

“Sir, it is as you predicted. A week ago, a group of reinforcements seem to have arrived from Garbera.”

He had chosen the appropriate men from within the Imperial Guards skilled in gathering respective intel, disguised them, and sent them all around. Orba had done this time and time again. Even should he already be in the friendly territory of Apta, Orba performed this vigilantly.

“Hmm...reinforcements?” After the soldier left, Kain asked questioningly. “Why now, when the transfer to Mephius has already been decided? It can’t be that they’re trying to take over the fortress and take the prince hostage…”

“The wine you drank yesterday might’ve also been laced.”

“Whueehhh.”

Orba laughed at Kain who seriously seemed like he was about to be sick.

The courtyard immediately within the castle gates had a beautifully trimmed lawn with a brilliant display of flowers and shrubs. There, Orba caught sight of Shique seated near a fountain. He was enjoying a pleasant chat with several young ladies, presumably servants working at the fortress. Kain cursed out silently at the all too cheerful atmosphere.

“What’s his problem. In spite of himself going around saying he hates women.”

‘That’s why it must be like hell for him,” Orba chuckled.

Taking notice of them, Shique directed an intense glare at Orba in a way unperceived by the girls.

“The ones suited for collecting information, are women, Orba,” was what the drunk Shique proudly declared to him yesterday.

“Sure, while men might be weak to a woman’s wiles, to compensate, they can get a feel of their intentions . ''But'', ''women'', while they might be able to levelly assess this when done to other women, are driven by the thought that this feverish love can’t possibly turn out a lie whenever it concerns themselves. Of course, this isn’t a simple display of selfless love. You need to coldly thrust them away on occasion, as to leave them with the feeling, ''I don’t want him to hate me; I don’t want to lose his love; so I’ll pour my everything out for him.''”

“Is that how it works?”

“Then again, it’s impossible for you, Orba. Your hands are tied with your fiancee princess alone. If I had to pick your weakness, that would surely be it.”

“Then,” Orba said as he stifled a laugh, “I’ll have to leave ''that'' up to you, Shique.”

The drunkenness on Shique’s face, having stirred up the hornet’s nest, had been completely blown off.

“Sometimes I ask myself,” Shique remarked, spouting complaints in the end, “why I’m this kindhearted. It’s as if I’m the one selflessly offering my love to you. Can’t I hope for a bit more consideration?”

''Now then.''

After surveying the area, Orba thought of Noue, who was most probably, likewise, currently ascertaining the Mephian battle formations.

''He should’ve grasped the inadequacy of Mephius’ forces. It should be clear as day that Guhl’s intention is to purposely prolong the war and not meddle between Ende and Garbera’s affairs. Which would mean...''

The day where they could hold a frank discussion without bothering with the whole reading faces or negotiating wasn’t too far off.

Afterwards, Orba showed up at the once-more prepared banquet alongside the setting sun. Three days and three nights of feasts were scheduled to continue from today on. Having become lord of a castle, Orba intimately greeted the crowd and patted their shoulders in what was a festive manner.

Vileena, unable to settle herself down in this seating, left her seat, and Noue also made his leave only showing his face briefly, but taking care to give his congratulations. Without paying any particular mind to this, Orba merrily conducted himself while taking a careful look around. Most of the imperial guards had not turned up as he had previously established.

“Ooh, your imperial highness! If you would, a toast.”

War had called out to him from the hall’s corner. He was a former sword slave Orba had sent into Oubary’s camp of mercenaries; a middle aged man who carried a dull air about him at first glance. As Orba approached them, the soldiers working for Oubary likewise humbly stood up from their seats.

“At ease, at ease.”

With a broad smile, he drank a cup of wine on the table. Orba certainly was not resilient to alcohol, but there was no helping it as this formality was also part of the act. War also started laughing.

“Your highness, this here is a man of valour who has done long service under General Oubary, Sir Bane.”

''So he’s the one.''

Orba glanced at the red faced man War introduced. He nearly broke into a grin for a moment, but narrowly restrained it. He already knew this man had once been in Apta from the information he’d gotten from War. Namely, that he was one of the culprits who’d abandoned his brother Roan so that he could flee first, and then burned down the village Orba belonged to. He was a plump, greasy man with eyes slanted down. Truly, he possessed an indistinct air evenly matched with War’s, and Orba felt he could somehow understand how the man contented himself at the position of captain.

“My, what a commendable deed it was, your highness.” Bane, unsurprisingly, was unable to conceal his tension, but spoke to him smiling regardless. “Your judgment the time we received an attack our way here could truly be described as deft and awe-inspiring.”

“Is that so. Here, a toast.”

Feigning jollyness, he offered him a cup. Bane respectfully obliged. War waited for the appropriate timing and then spoke up.

“Captain Bane has told me he was previously present in Apta.”

“Oh? You had fought here against the Garberan army?”

“I have.”

“You should also be more acquainted with here than I. Won’t you join me in inspecting Apta tomorrow?”

“Eh?”

Bane’s face stilled as if he stopped breathing, and then his eyes glowed.

“I-If you are fine with someone like me, by all means have me accompany you to any place, any time.”

“Aah. I’ll be depending on you.”

Even now, his nails ate into the skin of his clasped hands. Staying here for long would likely aggravate his emotions, so he performed the proper greetings and then left the hall.

Compared to the Solon imperial capital’s surroundings, the night wind here was refreshing in its own way.

''Now then,''

As he viewed the distant forest sunken into darkness, Orba wiped the smile and stupor from his face, plucking off the fingers bitten into his clasped hand one at a time. His palm was covered in sweat. Much death and blood had been brought forth by those hands. Occasionally, he even consciously discarded the emotions that should have accompanied what he wrought. All so he could take back all that was stolen from him.

''There’s still a lot of groundwork that needs to be laid out. It’d be good if I made it in time.''

===Part 2===
On the third day’s banquet, Orba invited the war slaves to the hall. Their feet were still fastened in chains, though were also permitted a smidgen of a drink. Their expressions stiff, they behaved like some castaway dog thrown into the fray.

Since the time their rebellion had been thwarted, they were in constant fear, not knowing whether their heads would be severed this day or possibly the next. Even after the prince added them into his forces as war slaves, it was ultimately the whim of a man in power, and they never knew when their fates would take a turn for the worst.

They were alive for now. Gowen gave them training everyday, and they were beginning to think that it may actually not be some simple whim or capricious thought of the prince’s meant to kill some time. Nonetheless, it was well known that war slaves were given the most dangerous tasks in battle. They were ultimately disposable soldiers. There were many instances where war slaves were forced to commence suicidal attacks such that it was guaranteed not a single one would make it back alive even as their backs were threatened from friendly fire.

They proceeded through their meals and wine gloomily. Mira’s figure was also present amidst the female slaves serving the table. She had worked at the grand stadium of Solon, and it was none other than her whom Orba had taken hostage when Pashir and the other slaves tried to cause a rebellion.

In that spot where dark clouds seemed to gather, Mira alone behaved cheerfully. The slaves could do little more than return smiling faces when she spoke to them, but they seemed to suddenly brighten up just from her presence.

And with Mira as the origin, a disturbance took place.

“Hey you, keeping company with those slaves won’t be any fun. Come here to us.”

A single member of Oubary’s Black Armoured Division said, grabbing her shoulders. Mira tried to politely refuse, but another soldier had come along and while laughing vulgarly forced Mira onto their shoulders.

“Hold up, she’s mine.”

The first soldier called out laughingly, taking Mira back with his hands. It had only been an instant after when Mira, being tugged from both sides, raised a scream. The nearby Pashir stood up and, extending his hand sturdily as a log, lifted the soldier by the back of his neck. He flung him at the Black Armoured Division members who’d begun to gather. Several of them fell over and collapsed.

“Y-y…”

“You bloody slave. You askin’ for a fight?!”

As if treating this as a sideshow to the wine, the Black Armoured Division suddenly descended on them, and the slaves snarled back, all standing up to confront them. Naturally, the slaves’ feet were chained, but it turned into a grapple, a scuffle, and eventually an all-out brawl.

“T-This shitty bastard.”

A member of the Black Armoured Division picked up a spear leaning against the wall. While they were allies, the opponent was a slave so he didn’t hold back. At first, he thrust with the shaft of the spear, but Pashir landed on the table with near acrobatic display in his movements and made use of his chains to repel a second and third blow. Blood rushed to the soldier’s head and he readied the tip of his spear.

The instant he began to thrust forward, the soldier swooned and fell forward. Gowen was behind him with a vase of wine in his right hand.

“That’s enough!”

Forcing his way in was Gil. As expected, even the Black Armoured Division stopped moving.

“Do you intend on spoiling my ceremonious occasion? Everyone who participated in this fight gets the whip!”

Firing words of abuse as a drunk would, Gil kicked a nearby soldier’s knee and punched a war slave in the head. From his left and right, Shique and Gowen came in to restrain him.

“Let go of me! These insolent cretins are—!”

“Your highness, your highness. Please calm yourself.”

“Now now, let’s get to your bedroom. The night is late.”

The two imperial guards appeared to partly drag the prince, who wrought further curses, away from the hall.

And the following day, that incident turned to gossip within Apta spreading as far as the urban districts.

The faces of the people exchanging whispers of rumours were marked with shock and unease at their future.

“It seems the prince himself also participated in the quarrel.”

“Will things be all right? The soldiers are already few, and here they are engaging in internal squabbles.”

“If the Garberan army leaves Apta like this, what’ll happen to us?”

“It’ll be all right. No war’s happening. See there? Don’t make those faces in front of the children.”

Whether it was their ruler that would change or the country’s infrastructure that would change, the only thing that concerned the denizens was whether or not the change would function duly as a shield to protect them and guarantee peace of mind over their lives.

Unrest and dissatisfaction plagued not only the populace, but also the soldiers in question. However, Prince Gil’s proclamation in his drunken fit that ‘everyone gets the whip’ could not be enacted. They were not Gil’s personal soldiers. They were no more than soldiers lent to him by Oubary and Odyne, and even as a prince, handling them as he pleased would cause problems for him in the distant future.

It was because they grasped this that they instead acted haughty.

“Won’t you pass that message to his highness?”

Seizing the imperial guards were these superciliously spoken words.

“Those bloody slaves are mongrels who went against Mephius. I don’t plan to say anything against the prince’s tolerant treatment, but to have them dine in the same place as us regular soldiers is going a bit too far.”

“Beasts are useful because they are properly tamed. Wild as they are, they’ll only indiscriminately bare their fangs at enemies and allies alike.”

“—So they said.”

Orba recited the soldiers’ voices of dissatisfaction in front of Pashir and the war slaves.

They were at the fortress yard in a spot separated through a stone wall used for military training. All of the slaves had both knees on the ground with the soldiers’ gleaming guns surrounding them. Orba stared at their faces smeared with sweat and dirt from having finished Gowen’s training.

“You sure are awfully hated. As things are now, friendly fire’s sure to happen the day battle occurs.”

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v03 119.jpg|thumb]]
“What are you trying to say?” Pashir said, ready to take a bite at him even now. “Are you saying it’s about time to have our heads?”

“I did tell you to watch your tone, Pashir.”

Orba approached the slave and jerked up his chin with a finger. His glaring eyes in close proximity; the blazing emotions together with the suppressed murderous intent that seemed to blast out; supposing the only one here were Pashir alone, assuming he held not a single sword or even a single arrow in his hand, and even with his legs fastened in chains, there was no doubt he’d sink his fangs into Orba’s neck, or wring his neck in a vise.

However, there were a good number of slaves present. Taking Pashir’s personality into account, Orba knew he wasn’t one to lose himself in his own emotions if it would mean bringing down his companions with him.

“...Then, what is　it you want us to do?”

“It’s only one thing. Do as I say. And to add, should you carry out even just one task, you get money. Women even. If you hate following me, I’ll even set you free.”

“You wouldn’t,” Pashir gasped in disbelief.

“There’s no way you don’t know about my Imperial Guards. They’re, the whole lot of them, all former sword slaves.”

The slaves exchanged glances. The reality of the imperial guards had an effect. Their faces were unsettled. They wavered.

They, at one point, tried to raise the banner of rebellion together with Pashir. Of course, the reasoning being that they could no longer stand a slave’s treatment. It was because they were treated as beasts, living their days not knowing tomorrow that they determined it far better to throw themselves into a desperate struggle for their freedom despite the likelihood of losing their lives.

To say that freedom was standing before their eyes.

Orba viewed their faces in turn. Amongst them was Miguel Tes, whom he’d exchanged swords with at the founding festival. A man who displayed splendidly nimble skill during the uproar. Around his twenties, a handsomely faced swordsman originally not a sword slave, but fallen to one for the crime of attempted rebellion. If it were Pashir or Miguel, even if he gave them soldiers this instant, they would still carry out their respective duties, or so Gowen asserted.

“Stand, Pashir.”

Orba commanded, and then a soldier to whom he had given detailed instructions beforehand approached Pashir and undid his shackles. As Pashir stood up eyeing Orba suspiciously, another soldier came over carrying a complete Mephian outfit. Light armour, a steel helmet, and boots.

“Those are for you.”

“What?”

“I appoint you head of the slave corps. If you don’t like being called the slave corps, then Imperial Guard-supervised independent infantry unit. I’ll permit freedom within Apta to you alone. Be sure to watch over everyone.”

“Wait a second—Er, I-If you could wait. Why only me...?”

“I said it. You’re no longer a slave but a commanding officer of the foot soldiers. You also get a stipend. But you also have a responsibility to follow my orders. In the case you go against me, you will be judged by the Mephian law and I.”

Orba noisily paced back and forth in front of Pashir. Every one of the slaves watched over this development dumbfoundedly.

Possibly understanding the implied meaning Orba made—or rather, it would be Gil to him— his face reddened, then paled instead.

The slaves’ lives rested on his shoulders. Though he was permitted freedom, were he to try fleeing from Apta, responsibility would of course be pushed over to the slaves and they’d be executed. And also, they were no longer conspiring to rebel. No matter how much Pashir hated Gil and Orba, he wouldn’t easily throw away the freedom dangling in front of the other slaves, and he wasn’t foolish enough to commit such acts that would involve them in.

“Mira.”

At that point, Orba called out Mira and had her help fit Pashir’s outfit. Amidst the strange ruling silence, after Pashir was outfitted as a swordsman, Orba drew his own sword from his waist. A light swish accompanying the swing, the tip of the sword pressed against Pashir’s neck.

“I’ll give this sword to you,” Orba said in a whisper. “Wield it only to protect your own body and when I give you my orders. This sword is to kill enemies. But depending on how you use it, it might kill you. Your life, your personality, your entire dignity.”

“—”

Pashir remained silent. His animalistic, pointed eyes fixed on Orba with traces of doubt and unrest he was unable to keep off his face. However, he was no more disturbed than necessary.

''He’s a hard to get man.''

Able, and a man capable of standing at the centre of a group sharing the same goal.

“I’ll have Mira guide you to your own room. It also has an exclusive bed, though it might be a bit hard.”

“Prince, did you bother testing it yourself?”

Shique, who had been watching the entire conversation, interrupted. Orba laughed.

“It’s much better than sleeping outside. That’s no place to bring a woman along.”

Indifferent to the blushing Mira and leaving the rest to the soldiers, Orba left the training site.

Orba immersed himself in his own tasks oblivious to the whispered rumours in the streets and fortress interiors.

The next day, he left the fortress in the early morning. Together with Bane and several imperial guards, he made the rounds inspecting within Apta.

Because the prince had personally gone out, the neighbouring villages were pressed to greet him. To further note, their group included a single noble who had accompanied them from Solon and was appointed as the Apta administrative official, charged with management of the forest resources. He was Kalgan, third son of Julius, feudal lord of Idoro. Kalgan, who had experience in logging as well as lumbering, met with the so-called lumbermen groups at the villages.

“Your highness, I’ve been thinking of gathering the leaders from all the villages and creating an ordered system from scratch.”

“I’ll leave it in your hands.”

Until two years ago, Kalgan had been commander of the supply division serving the veteran general, Rogue Saian. However, he had suffered an injury to his right leg in the war with Garbera and had been removed from the front lines since then. Nobles who did not succeed the house either became soldiers or their family’s assistant. With a low outlook and an absence of a satisfying job, the prince had come in to personally nominate him and assign him this post. Many of those carrying out the administrative duties were nobles sharing similar circumstances to Kalgan’s.

Of course, this was also a result of the information Orba collected inside the royal palace. In this way, he collected those who strived to better themselves and aspired to work. Particularly, this was a chance where they might be recognised by the prince, and thus steal a march ahead of their brothers who had succeeded the house. Each of them burned with zeal.

“There was someone called Peewee the Piper,” Orba mentioned to Gowen at the time they listed the officers and sons of nobles that would travel with them to Apta.

“A person with absolutely no skill in using a sword or gun, only good with his tongue. No one paid him any attention, but his lies held a certain mastery to them. I dispatched him to propagate false information against Guhl. Peewee was enthusiastic and did a great job with it. For those like him, it was exactly because no one else recognised them that getting them to think there was someone who paid them attention became their greatest driving force to work.”

“I get what you’re saying. My years of experience have proven that without a doubt.”

Having also received Gowen’s approval, Kalgan’s name had been added to the list amongst the names of the many old men already crossed out.

Outwardly, Orba feigned the carefree fool seeming to enjoy himself in the villages’ warm reception.

''There isn’t anyone I know, huh.''

Just a little farther and he’d reach his hometown village. Of course, it didn’t exist now, and even if it did there likely wouldn’t be a single person he recognised there. But he wanted to see it with his own eyes, to set foot on it with his own feet.

''The last time was when I went to bring mom back was it.''

At that time, he was attacked by some run-of-the-mill soldiers and saved by Ryucown. And pulling his mother’s hand, he escaped to the next neighbouring village, which Oubary’s unit set fire to.

Orba glanced to the side at Bane, whom he had brought along with him. He was being offered wine by the villagers and grinning broadly. It appeared there wasn’t a single ripple in his emotions at how he had once burned down these people with his own hands.

“By the way Orba,” Gowen secretly whispered into his ears. “Why did you purposely have Shique and the others go separate places at the same time? It’s dangerous with the bandits appearing around here. Isn’t it better to have them patrol together?”

About the same time Orba’s group left the fortress, he had sent Shique and a separate party of Imperial Guards southwards. Krau, the slave girl he borrowed from Zaj, and Pashir were also with them.

“Because it would draw more attention to our grand departure. We don’t want them suspecting their objective.”

“You speak like there’s a spy amongst us.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if there was. With the evacuation of the Garberan people, Apta should be flooded with people coming in and out these few days.”

“Your wit’s hard at work.”

“Stop it. —And also, have you noticed?”

“What?”

“The villages haven’t spoken about any bandits.”

After making a face of realisation, Gowen looked at Orba with eyes as if he’d seen something dreadful.

“...Certainly, if a group of bandits big enough to attack a merchant ship is roaming around, there’d be a high chance the villages would suffer damage. Or, even supposing that they weren’t attacked, they’d be driven by the unease of having an armed group of that size in their territory. And in spite of that, they have not uttered a single word to Apta’s new feudal lord, the prince.”

“Which would mean this strays outside of Zaj’s predictions. They’re no washed-up thugs from the west. Most likely, they’re Mephians.”

Their group returned to the fortress before sunset.

In front of the castle gates, they came across Shique and the rest who likewise appeared to be returning.

“How did it go?”

“My lord, I’m dead tired.”

Krau said, her body certainly fatigued. But as she delivered today’s results to Orba with her hands, his eyes lit up.

“You did a great job. Feast to your heart’s content. Pashir, you worked hard as well.”

“...No, it was no trouble.”

At that time, Orba spotted a strange sight at the garden near the castle gates. Several swords were thrust into the ground. He assumed it was likely some master swordsmith burying his failed works. However, that wasn’t anything of concern to him. There were many things he still needed to do.

And from up above in a spire, Noue Salzantes intently observed their situation.

===Part 3===
The next day, the Garberan garrisoned troops Noue led departed. Orba stood alongside Vileena seeing them off, and immediately afterwards, went all the way to the fortress’ defensive walls and ascended one of the scattered spires, from which he commanded a full view looking down on the long queue of soldiers.

The number of wagons were recklessly many. The things they needed for living at the fortress should have been sent back to Garbera beforehand, so the majority of them appeared to be food provisions. A smile unknowingly crept onto Orba’s face. Those numbers definitively changed Orba’s prediction to conviction.

“Orba.”

Gowen called out to him with a stern expression. Without turning around, Orba spoke to him.

“So the preparations are ready?”

“For the time being, it’s as you stated. I’ve never wanted your prediction to be wrong this much. See if there wasn’t a mistake in the process. Apta is…”

“This was a gamble with stacked odds from the start.” Orba affirmed, tapping the scabbard of the sword hanging from his waist. “Now, why don’t you make a better face, Gowen. Just as you would when seeing off the slaves to the place where they kill each other.”

Saying this, Orba finally turned around. His face was flushed, his eyes shining with ferocity. Gowen’s face turned unpleasant.

“If you turn the entire mobile force into a diversion as part of your clever scheme, we’ll have no main force here. Being sly is great, but in order to accomplish that, we need a main force. Fooling the enemy is good and all, but there’s no ‘core’ to your plan.”

Speaking as if war would break out tomorrow or even today, Orba also readily accepted those words.

“If we have no main force, then ''they'' will come.”

The sky was clear. The refreshing forest breeze brushed against Orba’s cheek, his spirit already gone to the battlefield.

That day passed by without any trouble.

Orba no longer held banquets like those previously, but his lightsome mood was transmitted to the soldiers aplenty and they set out to their entertainment every evening, here as well. What was more, their manner was the very meaning of arrogance. To the Aptan people, they felt the Garberan soldiers who maintained command were several times better, and unease gradually spread amongst the citizens.

Then, the following evening.

Two young men dispatched from the Black Armoured Division, Rynas and Vran, tried to go outside the castle gates. Both were gunners. They were off duty tonight, but their colleagues that should have been stationed on watch were already long gone on their excursion. But there wasn’t bound to be any enemy attack at any rate, so they didn’t worry too much over it and were on their way to go drinking.

“You two, could you come here for a bit?”

The ones who called out to them were the Imperial Guards, sitting in chairs around a table in the garden near the gate and amusing themselves in a game of cards.

“Is there something you need?”

Rynas was courteous, but position wise, knowing his opponents were former slaves, he naturally didn’t care to hide the contempt from his face.

“We’re a tad short on players for menko<ref>A japanese card game. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Menko</ref>. Would you care to join us?”

“No, we’re—”

“We’ve received quite the sum of war funds from the prince. How about it? A single game if you will.”

The imperial guard took out a leather bag and placed it on the table. It landed with a thump. Rynas and Vran exchanged glances. In going out, money would of course be needed.

“Sounds interesting.”

Vran nodded and Rynas also joined their company.

“That’s how it’s gotta be.”

The imperial guard Aeson smiled and pulling out two chairs, urged them to sit.

South of Apta, within the Tsaga mines. In the maze-like complex of ravines, a single dragonstone ship advanced. It was a cruiser class airship, and at best flew ten metres above the ground give or take. Amidst the sky and ground blending into a leaden hue immediately following sunset, where not a single living sound was made save the panicked cries of the birds flying away, a large number of people were in fact concealed. Their heads protruded over the crags, carefully watching the ship flying several metres below them. In their hands were guns. Beside them were small airships, prepped and ready for them to jump on and take off at a moment’s notice. No matter who, anyone would see them as a group of bandits about to attack the ship. However, in the end they did nothing, only holding their breaths in stillness and looking down at the ship as it continued on past their view.

And from there, separating Apta to its north was an oblongly stretched forest. That area, normally barren of men’s presences, for some reason held large numbers of shadows shifting about. And on their waists were the glint of swords and guns. They had prepared their evening meal, but without using fire so that fumes wouldn’t rise into the air, only eating readied simple dried foods. Using no lighting, they simply gathered, exchanging subdued voices, their silhouettes quite surely ominous. Any traveller happening to glimpse upon this scene would likely be struck with terror and view it as a group of the forest’s ghosts wordlessly holding a banquet.

And then—

Vileena Owell at that time came out to the balcony of her allotted fortress room. The southern forest could be seen across the urban contours under the starlight. She breathed a small sigh as her hair swayed in the wind.

''His imperial highness, and Hou Ran—''

She could not forget the scene she witnessed the time they were attacked by bandits on their journey to Apta. The smile Gil Mephius directed towards that girl. It was one Vileena had never seen. On asking, she found out that Hou Ran had become part of the imperial guards after the ceremony at Seirin Valley. And yet, they appeared to be longtime acquaintances.

''If I ask Theresia, she’ll surely suspect this as jealousy between a man and woman.''

At that time, the prince trusted Hou Ran from the bottom of his heart. When they were being fired on, even if the dragons would run amok, he was sure things would somehow work out if Ran was there—thinking this, he personally led his unit to chase after the bandits. And sure enough, Ran met his expectations. Wasn’t that the reason why when Gil rejoined them, he showed her that smile?

Vileena found their relationship a little dazzling. She didn’t know what could have happened that would cause that unimpressionable, that mysterious prince to place his full trust in Ran. The current Vileena wondered if she could ever become an existence like her. And if she ''did'' happen to become one, wouldn’t she then be able to move the prince as she willed?

Presently, Gil Mephius was once again taking indefinable actions. ‘Was his merrymaking behaviour simply not for show?’ she thought. Countlessly taken by surprise in this way, Vileena’s opinion of Gil changed.

''A man I cannot let my guard down around.''

Just as she had only recently written in the letter to her grandfather. It would be no wonder if Ax Bazgan’s subordinates were nonchalantly passing their days to guarantee the large flux of people moving in and out of the city. She could imagine this as one of Orba’s methods to make them lower their guard.

''But what does he hope to gain by lowering their guard? It’s one thing if our forces were twice theirs. Rather, shouldn’t he be putting up a front to tell them our defenses are solid?''

Her questions were endless. Although she told herself she would try believing in the prince this time, just thinking about it gave rise to her inner turmoil.

''Am I the poisonous snake set loose from Garbera, or the crown prince’s wife accustomed to Mephius?''

Her unsteady, trembling feet constantly shook the very core of her heart. Would it have been better were the prince really feebleminded and a man she could bend to her will? What was she hesitating over?

''Ahh, I can’t have this. That I, Vileena Owell, would fall to tatters like this. Grandfather will scold me.''

Since she was young, Vileena had believed that if she were born a knight, she would have handled the sword better than any knight, strategised better than any commander, supported her grandfather, achieved beyond her father’s expectations, and made Garbera the continent’s top country.

''Not only am I unable to discipline a single prince rumoured as a fool for my country’s welfare, but I spend these days handled by him instead.''

The anxiety and impatience gnawing away at her small chest only grew stronger.

She oh so very much wanted to return to Garbera. And if she were to ride an airship crossing this night sky to meet him...Surely her grandfather would be mad and say something like ‘Why did you shamelessly run away and come back?’. Even then, she didn’t mind. She wanted to see her grandfather, father, and mother and even wanted that scolding.

''To think I would end up like this.''

A weak, lonely pampered child.

“Seeing you like this,” Theresia spoke from behind her, “is like seeing a fourteen, fifteen year maiden consumed with the anguishes of adolescence.”

“I am a trifle little girl with nothing special about her. I don’t need to be told that.”

“Again, saying things unlike you. Come now princess, your tea is ready.”

“Theresia, what exactly is it that I should do?”

The young girl asked, sounding distant as she gazed at the stars.

“Well, that’s something only the princess can understand.”

“I do plan to understand my own feelings myself. But that ‘self’ feels like there are several people inside and it makes me nauseous. Each of them say different things that I don’t know which one is my real ‘self’.”

“Does that not mean that you’re becoming an adult? It pains me to say it means that pure ‘self’ of your childhood has ended.”

“My pure sel—”

As Vileena began to repeat her words, her mouth suddenly stopped.

“Is something the matter?”

“No….I remember having this kind of talk with grandfather before; of how a person no longer remains their natural, born self, because at some point they form one, two, or sometimes over ten ‘different selves’. That sometimes, they’re created because of responsibilities or official positions.”

Vileena remembered being too young at the time to understand her grandfather’s words. However, thinking back now, wasn’t it a royal family member’s resolve that he was teaching her?

As Vileena tried to recall the details of the conversation, she was swept by a tremor under her feet.

Losing her footing, she immediately witnessed a cloud of rising dust. It was in front of the gate interposed between the city districts.

“Princess?”

Sensing something amiss, Theresia came running over. Vileena did not move, only standing, her eyes opened wide.

“That is—”

Further south of the gates within the dim stretched forest, small orbs of fire appeared in succession.

''The enemy!'' Vileena sensed.

Those were likely the flames of their handheld torches. The body of flames twisted in a line like a big snake slithering out of the forest. They had advanced secretly through the forest, but faster than Vileena could finish this thought, two, three cannon shots howled through the night sky.

“E-Enemy attack! Enemy attack, enemy attack!!”

Cries that cut through the still night immediately followed.

“The gate’s being bombarded!”

“Send for the horses!”

Cries mingled within the fortress. The urban districts were also wrapped in a large clamour as they saw the queue of men surge towards the fortress. The tranquil night was broken, and even the soft-blowing winds became a threatening gust that stung their skin.

“Princess! Are you hurt?”

Running in was Shique, the imperial guard.

“How is the Mephius army faring?”

More than worrying about her own safety, she questioned Shique about the force of enemy soldiers that had just drawn close.

“P-Princess,” Theresia began, as if to stop her.

“Why have you allowed the enemy to come this close so easily? What of the soldiers assigned to the gates? What about the airship unit on lookout?”

“F-For now, please follow me. My duty is in leading the princess to a safe location.”

“I’m fine. More importantly, I will go to the airship launching site. If we don’t rouse the soldiers—”

Vileena cried out, shaking off Shique’s hand by force. “Hm?” she furrowed her graceful brows. Another cannon shot sounded from the balcony.

“Shique, weren’t you a bit too fast in coming here?”

“—”

“Don’t tell me…”

When Vileena suddenly turned around, the tip of the flames that took on the shape of a huge snake drew immediately before the outer walls.

The figures appearing from the forest were a band of swordsmen, their faces concealed by front pointed helmets<ref>Similar to a samurai helmet</ref> and donning the Zerdians’ characteristic metal armour. The cannons were positioned on a hill within the forest and bombarded the south gates and battery emplacement protruding in the southeast.

The streets and fort fell into a confusion as it became littered with holes, but the enemy forces hadn’t come out.

The attacker’s commander Natokk broke into a grin beneath his helmet. He had light coloured-skin and a hawk-shaped face, features that could be found in the common Zerdian.

“It’s exactly as the information said. Those Mephian morons have drunken themselves silly and are still slumbering away.”

The Mephians showed signs of readying to intercept their attacks, but a quickened strike would settle that.

Natokk signaled for consecutive fire. A hole tore open in the outer walls before his sharp eyes, and the gate’s reinforced watchtowers toppled over. The residents’ screams soared past the fortress walls, resounding in Natokk’s ears.

Pulling off the string on his scabbard, he drew a slightly curved sword.

“We the main force shall proceed towards the southern gate. Shadam, take command of the gunning unit and foot soldiers, and standby on the east side. Engage any enemy who comes out.”

“Sir!”

His adjutant, face roasted in the colour of flames, was beside him.

“If the enemy pushes out, engage them accordingly and retreat to the forest.”

He was already aware Apta Fortress had a shortage of forces. His spies who had slipped into the city districts had done right. With the evacuation of the Garberan forces, the main force within Apta likely didn’t even amount to five hundred. The soldiers Natokk was leading were also a few three hundred, but the cruiser that ferried them here had returned back, after which it would be fully loaded again and heading this way. The ship would drop the troops, following which the unit would advance north through the forest, passing east of Natokk, and commence an attack on Apta from the north. Should the enemy focus their forces on Natokk, they would suffer a pincer attack.

''That’s our strategist, Ravan-dono for you. In a single night, we will finally grasp the coveted Apta in our hands.''

Natokk ran his tongue down the tip of his blade.

On the other end, the inside of Apta was as Natokk saw, at the height of confusion. The soldiers rushing out in great hurry were all half armed, and the cavalry stationed in the east and south gates were hindered by the fleeing citizens and unable to advance forward.

The artillery battery projecting southeast of Apta finally fired back, but the artillery duel did not continue for long. The main force that had crashed through the main gates ascended the hills, crossed the trenches, and began penetrating into the fortress interiors.

When they entered the gates, it was no surprise that soldiers came running down the steps on both sides in a panic. However, even with numbers, even in force, they were no opponent for Natokk. A bullet was fired, and then a second shot. And by the tenth shot they had lost their composure and scrambled to escape.

“This...so there wasn’t even a need for a second force.”

There wasn’t a need to go as far as to pry the second gate open through brute force. Natokk planned to move through the fortress passages towards the fixed batteries and subdue the enemy artillery. If he turned the cannons towards the city and fired them, it would intensify enemy mayhem.

Sending a few elites towards the batteries, Natokk and his main force intercepted the enemy in the gate interior.

However, shortly after a messenger of the elite force kneeled before Natokk’s eyes. It seemed the enemy airships had appeared and they were currently exchanging fire. That infantrymen were being carried one after another atop the fortress walls signalled they were also converging towards the batteries.

The enemy had finally made its move. Information that a unit of footmen were approaching from the front had also arrived. But that was still within the margin. A part of him considered a full-frontal confrontation using his main force, but Natokk was not such an incompetent man to be driven by his desires and lose himself in his mission. The one making light of the enemy was not him, but rather, Mephius.

“Okay, pull back while returning fire. Have them fire the cannons one more time and provide cover!”

Quickly handing down his decision, he signaled his force to fall back from the southern gate. A group of the enemy foot soldiers, maybe convinced of their victory, came outside the fortress. Here, for the first time both sides’ naked swords clashed. The man standing as the enemy’s vanguard was fairly skilled. He made a timely sidestep as two of Nattock’s men lunged at him, and he sunk his sword into their neck and chest.

As Natokk had his men engage them in melee, he gave out the signal to regroup with the soldiers in the east bank while ascertaining a path of escape.

Everything was going according to plan.

<noinclude>
===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>

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| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume3 Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume3 Chapter4|Chapter 4]]
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</noinclude>

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume2 Chapter3

2022-07-21T00:15:37Z

98.113.91.34:

==Chapter 3: Her Royal Highness’ Gladiator==
===Part 1===
The following day and the day after that, Orba refused all invitations from Ineli and Rogue Saian.

He secluded himself in his room, where the work he did amounted to—nothing.

He loitered alone in his room. The main section of his room was far larger than the quarters he had stayed in when he was a sword-slave. Several times larger. The balcony that extended from his room also served as a garden. But going there would allow himself to be seen and he wanted to avoid raising questions as to why he was not sick. That was why he walked within the room.

On the first day, and the second day as well, Orba paced around as if a beast prowling in search of game. Each passing second felt long. Even his meals were carried out in silence. And whenever some faint noise was made, he would immediately direct his eyes at the door, to find that it never opened. By the second day, a shadow of impatience flared across his face. The sky outside the window was already dimming. Just as he had given up hope, a lone messenger came running into the room.

''He’s here.''

Orba’s feet ground to a halt. As Dinn began to call out to Orba, he caught sight of Orba’s visage and held his breath. Orba's eyes tore straight up, and his lips curled upwards to reveal his canine teeth. It was a terrifying appearance rivalling that of his mask.

With the information he received from the messenger, Orba handed down new orders. They were to be deployed to the entrances of the palace and main buildings, and also throughout town serving as intermediary points, similar to information relay, and provide for two-way transmission of intelligence.

The location was two alleys down from the main road, in a ryotei<ref>A traditional Japanese restaurant, commonly used to hold discreet talks and catered to the higher class.</ref> at the very end of a street lined with brothels.

In short, Noue had not shown up personally. The one Oubary dined with was his messenger. The location was a private room situated on the third floor. Any person in the store wishing to enter had to, without exception, ring the bell and obtain permission. It was ideal for confidential talks.

Orba first had several sword-slaves infiltrate the store. Naturally, he had handed them money and prepared them in the appropriate attire. After drinking several glasses of wine, they started an uproar at the set time. They even dragged the people in the store into the fight, though they took care not to create a bigger commotion than necessary, and then immediately vacated the store. In that time, the light-footed gladiator Aeson climbed over the fencings and walls and aligned himself against the balcony of the room Oubary was situated in. Aeson was a pirate born in the northern Zongan seas and experienced in climbing up and down the mast.

He stealthily listened in on the middle of the conversation without making a sound. The meet lasted approximately thirty minutes. What Aeson could make out was no more than the mere five minutes at the end. Still, there was some harvest. About the same time as the two finished their meet, Aeson got off the balcony.

Roughly three hours since the first report from the messenger, Orba heard the report from Aeson.

“—I see. Not a word of this to anyone.”

“I understand.”

Unaccustomed to this manner of address, Orba called out once more to Aeson, about to leave with the compensation money in his hands. “Sir?” he responded, turning around to find a gun pointed at him. Aeson turned stiff.

“I’ll say this one more time, just to be clear. Not a word to ''anyone''.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“No drinking during the festival. No leaving Solon. You don’t know where my eyes and my ears lie. In exchange, if you keep to it until the festival ends, I’ll give you the same amount of money as I did now.”

A joyful countenance formed across his pale face, and he responded, “Sir!”

“...What’s this all about?”

Dinn said after Aeson took his leave, his face also drained of colour.

“Nothing is clear right now and anything is still possible.”

“B-But, this doesn’t make any sense. General Oubary is a general long serving Mephius. Besides, he doesn’t want peace with Garbera. The princess…couldn’t have possibly come here from the beginning with this purpose, but then—Mmpphhmmfuu.”

With a plate of grapes stuffed into his mouth, Dinn was for the meantime preoccupied with chewing.

“I said nothing’s clear yet. We only have pieces of information after all.”

Even as Orba calmly said so, his heart raged turbulently.

The contents of the conversation Aeson heard were as followed:

“The incident with Kaiser was truly fortunate. It appears to have spurred on Zaat’s incitement. But I would never have thought this situation would arrive so soon. Rather, because the matter with Kaiser exists, Noue will not have to work for his accomplishments, is that not so?”

“It is as you say,” the messenger replied. “Lord Noue is steadily progressing with his preparations. Zaat Quark, and the setting fire to the slaves’ room as well, all proceedings are coming along.”

“And amongst the proceedings, I should also be accounted for, am I not?”

“For the general’s cooperation…”

“That’s far enough. The thanking will come after everything has ended. It’s fine to leave the handling of the matter regarding Zaat to me, but the situation with the slaves worries me. That man called Pashir. We seem to have gained his cooperation, but he is participating in the gladiator tournament after all. Were he to lose his life, won’t this be for naught?”

“There is no need to worry. The fire is already smouldering within Mephius. As it were, we are at best no more than ventilation. Even supposing Pashir were to lose his life, the already bursting flames will not be put out so easily.”

“Already in Mephius, hmm. You are exactly right. To this end, the search will also determinedly be met within Mephius. Of course…so this was Noue’s aim. The sword-slaves are an unfortunate bunch. They are the same as children provoked by wicked adults into fruitless opposition.”

Oubary stifled a laugh.

“After this, there will be nothing to trouble the general. Your cooperation in the concealment of the instigator has also left Lord Noue marvelling at your bravery and ability to take action, General Oubary. I pray for a lasting relationship of camaraderie and trust amongst us that can cross beyond our countries.”

“Hmph,” Oubary snorted. Because his figure could not be seen, it was not possible to tell what emotions he held at the time.

“But what will you do with that princess of yours? If you move poorly, her life will be in danger.”

“If only the princess were to escape ahead of time, Garbera’s involvement will be suspected. It is not a matter of moving poorly—that would just be ''how it ends up''.”

"Ho," Oubary’s voice quivered slightly.

It had been a short while. Then Oubary cleared his throat.

“—The hour is gone. Let us depart. To which banquet has Noue been invited this evening?”

“I believe it was called the Moonlight Palace. A great many envoys from numerous countries have been invited. If I remember correctly, Princess Vileena has also gone. Will the general also go there?”

“No, it’s the opposite. I would rather not meet some strange faces. I shall ascertain Zaat’s situation—”

He stood up from the seat and walked away from the room, barring any more of the speech from being heard.

Orba played back the conversation he heard from Aeson once more in his head.

His chest throbbed.

Oubary and Noue were scheming something outrageous during this festival. And to add, it was something big enough to shake the very core of the Mephius’ foundation—no doubt about it.

''Oubary is selling out his country, and Noue who should be promoting peace, is bringing trouble to Mephius.''

He did not know what their common goal was. At the current phase, he could not even offer a guess. But two points were made clear in the conversation. The first was,

''The princess’ life is in danger—''

Of course, the princess in this instance was Garbera’s third princess, Vileena Owell.

And the other point was related to the keyword, Pashir. The Pashir that Orba knew of was the gladiator who was the top contender for the championship. Oubary had also mentioned he was ‘participating in the tournament’, so there was no mistaking it.

The names of these two people, at first glance, appeared to have no connection; but, it was clearly evident that these two were caught up in some plan that was, even now, steadily making way.

If it was something that would only simply bring troubles to Mephius, Orba might have even smiled upon it. He hated Mephius. If it meant burning the nobles in flames and causing them suffering agony, he would jump at the chance, even if by himself. However, if Oubary had to do with this, then that was a different matter. He would never go along with that bastard’s wishes even once.

''And also…''

The image of platinum hair crossed his mind. And with it, a pure, extremely honest irritation.

Orba folded his arms as usual while deep in thought. Zaat, whom Oubary said he would go see. The Moonlight Palace, where Noue was said to have gone. Which one should he go for now? He wasn’t going to bother with the pretence of directly asking questions. The information he held was too little. That was especially why he had chosen to meet ''him'' directly to try and shake him up.

“Dinn, prepare a change of clothes.”

“Are you going out now? Where to?”

“The Moonlight Palace,” Orba replied. He had for some reason said it in an embarrassed tone, having decided to go ''there''.

“That place has a large number of envoys present,” Dinn said, focusing on the task at hand. “Ummm, then formal attire suitable for a party…but if it’s the prince who would do nothing but show off about his first campaign, then donning a military outfit would be—”

“A cuirass, sandals, and bangles.”

Orba picked up the object he hid when guests were present. It was the mask of the Iron Tiger.

Dressed in clothing fit for a gladiator, Orba headed towards the Moonlight Palace alone.

The Moonlight Palace—its original name was ‘The Palace of Moonlight facing the Dragon’s Left Wing’. It neared the Imperial Dragon Eye Shrine, contained one of the most magnificent gardens found in Mephius, and was more than often used to host large parties.

The guard at the gate saw Orba’s mask and bowed. He wasn’t a man with much of a prominent character, but in accordance to the rules, performed an inspection for weapons and then granted permission for Orba to enter.

No sooner than he had entered the garden, all the men and women called out to him. The name and appearance of the gladiator said to have defeated Ryucown had become well-known. The nobles, as guests of the party hosted in this mansion that came second to their own, welcomed him.

It wasn’t that they had never foreseen encountering a savage person until now, but Orba had become the talk of the crowd. For all the hard work he put in as the prince’s body double, it was the least he could be rewarded.

As he headed further in, Orba came across the two princesses, Vileena and Ineli. He stared in wonder. The two were facing each other and chatting happily. And as they appeared to do so, open hostility could be seen within those two pairs of eyes.

===Part 2===
Vileena Owell burned with ambition. The prince, who she thought would finally rise out of bed on the festival eve, had immediately withdrawn back into his room. She would no longer depend on him.

''As if I would depend on him. There’s nothing to depend on!''

She stood in front of a mirror fitting on her dress, and while Theresia busily arranged her hair, tightly clenched her fists.

“The prince’s absence is actually convenient. I will assess the envoys from all the countries by myself, and strengthen connections with Garbera even as I stay here in Mephius. That’s right, and I can also use this opportunity to remember the names and faces of the Mephian nobles. First, I’ll have to find myself a new acquaintance, a close friend. If I don’t establish my own foothold, I won't make any progress.”

“Oh my. Princess, you’re making a scary face,” Theresia said, looking at the mirror. “If you’re like that, then all the effort I put into preparing you as Mephius’ best woman will come to nothing. You’ll scare all the men away. Even that far-off prince would surely quake in fear in his room from seeing such a demonic face.”

Ignoring Theresia’s sarcastic remark, Vileena’s violent emotions flared up even further.

''That emperor’s way of doing things...I don’t like it.''

Kaiser Islan’s execution was said to be scheduled in a few days. Moreover, it was in the course of the gladiator tournament, where the masses could watch as he would be made out as live bait for the dragons. Having heard this, Vileena’s skin crawled in disgust and horror.

Kaiser practically wasn’t even given a chance to defend himself. At best, he had only expressed his opposition to the emperor’s proposal to relocate the shrine and erect a new building in its place. If such things came to pass, even the country’s management would spiral out of control.

''‘These men of high stature who know only to stare at their master’s countenance in fear of incurring his anger are the ones participating in the country’s politics—I would never think such a country would last this long in a warring society.’ Grandfather would most certainly say such.''

Vileena ascertained while in the midst of attending the hosted party held at the Moonlight Palace this evening. No matter how savage a country Mephius was, there should be those that could not ignore their feelings of opposition towards the emperor’s conduct.

''I will make sure of each and every one of their positions and views, and so that I may use it to somehow benefit Garbera, I must determine my own standing.''

The party began exactly at sunset. In the halls and the garden, mountains of food and people were prepared and readied. And amongst the constant chattering and music being sounded, Vileena revealed herself to the finely dressed people of the party. To the Mephian nobles who called out to her, she started off with an affable smile.

“My, another beauty has joined us this lovely evening.”

“The prided day for all Mephians will not be long to come. I pray with my heart that the wedding with the princess, praised as Garbera’s white flower, will come even one day sooner.”

“Dear me! What a charming princess. A well suited match for our crown prince.”

''Just keep smiling.''

She struggled to prevent her emotions, which took the form of a venomous spider nested deep within her, from appearing on her face as she politely responded to each and every one of them. However, mention of the issue relating to Kaiser never came up. Vileena had also grown familiar with some of Mephius’ customs, and so knew full well that the women far from preferred to stick their noses into politics.

''If I can at least get someone from their side to broach the topic…''

She understood that it was hard for them to bring mention of this topic with a foreign guest. Vileena bitterly regretted the ambiguous position she found herself in. Were Gil Mephius to have come here together with her, the circumstances might have been somewhat different. As she thought so, her fury towards the prince, and also towards his incompetence, grew even more.

She decided for a change in location. And if this topic came up somewhere along the way, she would attempt to join in.

Between the Moonlight Palace and Main Palace, a small, but strangely unusual forest stretched out and made the garden view much more enjoyable. In the centre of the garden was a water fountain where a flock of people gathered and were having a friendly chat. And in the corner, a group of musicians took up their positions and produced a melodious symphony as they played their instruments. Couples, young and old, embraced each other and danced.

''Oh?'' Vileena stopped her feet. She spotted Noue Salzantes. In Garbera’s palace, he was a man popular amongst the young ladies and children, and it seemed to be similarly so in Mephius. He was showing a magnificent dance with one of the ladies, as the surrounding groups of women threw glares of jealousy and envy.

Once the dance ended, Noue came to realize Vileena’s presence. He offered his greetings if not one second earlier, and for some reason quickly drew towards the direction of the party.

"Good day to you, elder sister<ref>As with Gil, it is written as お義姉さま, meaning stepsister but pronounced onee-sama. Note: Ineli is actually older than Vileena. However, she addresses her as onee-sama as a form of respect, rather than one of seniority, so I will be using ‘elder sister’ henceforth. </ref>."

The one who flipped up her skirt and did a light curtsy was Ineli Mephius, Gil Mephius’ stepsister and an imperial princess of Mephius.

Vileena remembered her innocent and yet charming appearance. And with it, the extremely rude comment Theresia had made, ''“I wouldn’t think she was only two years apart from Vileena-sama.”''

“Ah, could it be I’ve yet to introduce myself to my elder sister? I hope you bear it no mind, as it is only a difference between fast and slow. I felt it would be better to exchange greetings as early as possible, for the both of us.”

“Yes, I think so—Ow!—Yes, I couldn’t agree more.”

The ‘ow’ was because Theresia had elbowed her. It was a delicate situation in which they determined their relative standings, but right now, it was better to conduct herself with the standing of a guest. And also, Theresia had intuitively grasped that this girl Ineli was someone her mistress would not come to like.

“Just now, I have had the pleasure of entertaining a dance with Lord Salzantes, and as expected, Garbera has such refined characters. His dancing techniques and of course, his ability to escort a lady, are far superior to the likes of Mephius’ men. Elder sister, say….will you not also entertain yourself to a dance? Surely, everyone present here will gladly come to arms.”

“No, I will not. Dancing is one of my more inexperienced areas.” Vileena smiled in modesty. “I have had the pleasure of witnessing this a moment ago, but Princess Ineli is extremely skilled. It is not in my place to participate.”

“My, is that so. So that’s how it is. Well, it’s best not to fret over it. I have been taught by a dancing instructor since I was three. That instructor is a master dancer of the Arion imperial court. That person has been praised with having talent at the age of three.”

“That’s amaz—an amazing feat.”

Before she knew it, a group of girls—most likely the daughters of distinguished nobles—had gathered around her.

“Really, Ineli-sama has been able to do anything since she was little.”

“I’ve also been scolded by my father and mother, saying ‘Why can’t you be like Ineli-sama?’ And I would think, ‘There’s no helping it! I’m not Ineli-sama!’”

The girls broke into boisterous laughter. Ineli beamed triumphantly at Vileena, who was made to continue her troubled smile. And,

“Oh, it’s not as if even I can do everything. Doesn’t everyone have their own strengths and weaknesses? Take for example...,“ smoothly changing the conversation, she directed her glowing eyes at Vileena, “For example, I can’t ride airships.”

“Airships?”

“Is not knowing how to ride an airship really something to be embarrassed about? Isn’t that something used in the military? I’ve never seen one up close.”

Ineli grinned in enjoyment at the other girls’ confusion.

“I suppose you’re right. That is, in a way, something that doesn’t make you happy. I mean, think about it. Riding such a thing, and using it to fly in the sky—and then ending up scared and fainting. Wouldn’t that embarass you?”

“Ah, you’re right. Such a thing is improper for a lady.”

“Forget about getting angry, we might even be disowned.”

They laughed together. As Ineli showed her approval, she intently watched Vileena, whose eyes were screwed up.

''Oh? Could this be...''

Vileena could take a guess as to what this was. It was evident without needing this to proceed further. The other girls aside, Ineli was no doubt fully aware of it. This was about the immediate princess who had come from another country and her peerless ability to pilot an airship. And of how, in the battle at Zaim Fortress, she had soared through the battlefield with her own airship.

''So that’s what this is. She’s picking a fight.''

She forced herself to continue her smile while her mind boiled over repeatedly.

''If she’s going to pick a fight, I’ll show her one. Now…how should I go about it—''

“Is something wrong?” Ineli smiled sweetly at her. “Elder sister, have you changed your mind? Will you accept a dance?”

Vileena understood it now. Ineli seemed to have great confidence in that area of expertise. Even Vileena held some knowledge of dance. She was the princess of a country after all, and at the very least had a basic education in the etiquettes of being a lady.

Vileena pulled back the sleeves of her dress in confidence and raised her chin.

“If you insist to that extent, while it may be embarrassing, Vileena Owell shall entertain you a dance.”

''Oh really now.''

Ineli, facing Vileena, chuckled within. Their surroundings also became heated. Noue, in a last ditch effort to help in this situation spoke up,

“Then I shall be the princess’ partner—”

Ineli stopped him from speaking.

“No, I won’t have that. You said you would continue to accompany Ineli as her partner all night long. You had promised so, did you not?''

“Ah. Well, that is, but your imperial highness….”

Noue turned sour. In Garbera, he would instead be the one who led women by the nose; the one rumoured to cause tragic scenes to unfold between men and women. But here in the lands of a foreign country as a standing envoy, as expected, he could not refuse this princess.

At this point, a young noble quickly extended his hands towards the royal princess.

“Will her highness allow the unworthy me as her partner?”

The name of this man was Baton Cadmos. He was a man of significant stature, and in terms of appearance, was fit to act as the princess’ partner. Vileena would have been fine with anyone as her partner. As this princess took his hand, she failed to catch sight of Baton winking back at Ineli.

It was Ineli’s plan to have him slightly shame this princess from another country on this one occasion. Up to now in such showy events, she was the leading actress. She was sent for not only by tutors within Mephius, but also from those around the world of different varieties of styles, and was confident in her own sense of style. She was greatly knowledgeable in fashion, theme selection, dance, tea, a bit of esprit, painting, and music. All the girls Ineli’s age strived to be like her. And all the more so when her mother, Melissa, had become the empress and her status had been elevated to that of an imperial princess.

And suddenly intruding into her domain was Vileena. The Mephians were somehow rather weak to expressions of ‘cultural’ origin. Even though Garbera was until recently an enemy country, many Mephians could taste the refined flavour of their culture. Particularly, tales of Garbera’s chivalry, of how men would take up arms for their lady and risk their lives fighting for them, had garnered high popularity amongst the women and children.

During tea talks, the subject of their gossip would shift towards Vileena. And, whilst she stayed in the same country, her situation of being holed up in the women’s chambers was strangely exaggerated. Just today, they passed by each other and exchanged glances, and with the slightest of efforts Vileena caught the attention of her surroundings. The very thought of this sickened her.

''I’ll knock her down a peg here.''

She would put Vileena to shame, enough to overwhelm her, and then compassionately offer her a hand. If she could also make Garbera’s princess her follower, she could once more grasp the initiative in the women’s chambers as she had until now.

The tune of the Mephian waltz played and the dance began. Ineli and Noue both danced with equally fluid motions. Their breathing gradually synchronized, and sighs leaked out from the observing crowd.

On the other end, the aforementioned Vileena was suddenly swung around full force by Baton. She was perplexed by this dance, which had become one where both her feet were prone to be lifted off the ground. In an attempt to match her partner’s rushed movements, she stepped on Baton’s foot. The two of them both lost their balance.

“Princess, the step here occurs much earlier.”

Hearing the voices from his surroundings, Baton offered some advice. Stealthy giggles sneaked out from the surroundings.

“M-My apologies.”

She accidentally spoke in male speech. Her face turned red in accordance. But she tripped many more times after that. Even as she made attempts to follow after Baton, there were absolutely no indications of him allowing her to do so. This time, he stumbled completely on his own feet and took a large stagger behind.

''This man, he’s doing it on purpose.''

She met his eyes. There lay an arrogant smile.

Vileena grinned.

“Ah,” Theresia had raised her voice as a warning, but she was too late. Baton once more stuck his feet to obstruct the princess’ steps, and Vileena having preparedly anticipated this kicked his other foot up. And then using the rotation of her hips, she hurled the startled, hopping Baton.

Baton fell face first onto the floor. For a moment, the waltz came to a halt, as people gave out gasps of blameless surprise. Theresia covered her face on reflex.

“Anyone.”

Vileena cast a challenging glare at the men. And she stretched out her right hand into the empty air.

“Is there anyone out there. This benevolent man is not suited to be my partner. Is there anyone out there, willing to show Garbera’s princess a true Mephian waltz?”

“Ahahahahaha,” Ineli laughed in a shrill voice over and over. Noue was also surprised, but with Ineli as his dance partner before him, he was unable to offer any assistance.

Vileena was surrounded in stares. Everyone cast down their eyes and turned their faces. There were also those who pretended to be actively engaged in idle talk. Even as she cast her eyes through a full turn, there were no signs of reception. As she held back her anger, she could feel the startled reactions.

She had gone too far. With this, she would gain the hostility of the Mephius people. The supporters she had won over were nowhere to be seen. Each and every one of these people offered no response. They were not only afraid of incurring Ineli’s disfavour, but above all, of being the target of Vileena’s burning hostility.

She bit her pink lips. In her chest, she could feel her grandfather reprimand her.

''That girl named Ineli. Could she have read my quick temper and predicting such an outcome, provoked me?''

''If that is so, it is my complete defeat. I acted exactly along her expectations.''

But Vileena continued to hold her hand out in spite of that. She could not forgive that girl’s temperament precisely because she had been led by the nose. As more time passed and passed, the realization of her miserable state dawned on her, and each slowly passing second began to feel like an hour. Her shoulder gradually tired, and that very hand that had failed to grasp anything lowered in vain.

Vileena herself lowered her head. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Ineli’s triumphant smirk.

“—Princess.”

At that time, the figure of a person emerged from the crowd.

Vileena gasped, and also gasping in a difference sense of the meaning was Ineli.

“Princess, if it is fine with you, will you humble me—no, the unworthy me to a dance?”

With a bow, the one who raised his hands up high and donned a mask was the former gladiator.

Vileena, in her apprehensive state, raised her hand a second time and grasped the gladiator—the Imperial Guard’s hand.

Orba’s hand clumsily wrapped around her waist.

The two, mutually inclined towards the other, like a young boy and girl when they first hold hands, and falteringly tread their steps.

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v02 127.jpg|thumb]]
The dance flowed. The princess who had only just come from another country and the former gladiator who had defeated the enemy general at Zaim Fortress; attention focused on the two. Passion surrounded them, possibly amplified by the musical performance given by the virtuosos.

Orba paid discreet attention to his feet. He had never experienced this type of dance before. He carved the rhythm of the dance into his mind. A single offbeat, and he feared the whole dance would fall to pieces.

''One, two, three….one, two.''

Under his mask, a cold sweat firmly suspended itself on his brows. ''Is this one round? No wait, there’s a delay. Extend your hands, look away—and then again, one, two, three, one…''

“Orba.”

“Huh?”

Made even more startled, Orba’s voice rang out. He was really nervous. Vileena slipped out a giggle and said,

“Thank you.”

Orba did not return any words. He himself wasn’t even sure why he had volunteered himself before the princess.

Passion coloured the night, and in the midst of the melody of the waltz that flowed into the ears, he took the princess’ hand and danced round and round. The night wind felt refreshing against his skin. The branches of the forest rustled and the fountain bathed in an attractive golden under the fire lights, as gentle smiles spread across the faces of the guests watching the scene unfold before them.

This one night. This one scene. Orba did not dream it.

Before long, the music stopped and the two hoisted there fastened hands up into the air. Cheers and applause echoed. The dance was clumsily executed, and yet it somehow touched their hearts. Their fastened hands separated and they each gave the other a courteous bow, during which Orba found himself overwhelmed by a wave of intense emotions.

===Part 3===
No sooner than when the dance had ended, Orba once again found himself surrounded by people.

“Orba-dono, will you allow us to hear the details of the time you defeated Ryucown?”

“Come here and let us have a drink together.”

“Is it true that mask is the curse of a magician and can’t be taken off?”

“What of the rumour that concealed behind that mask, is a noble of a ruined country?”

''There’s no end to them.''

Orba resisted the urge to yell out “Shut up!” at them and conducted himself respectfully. Among them, many women tried to touch his body, causing him to jump up in response, which in turn invited their laughter.

Then, he felt a piercing gaze from a group of people on the opposite end. By chance, he glanced upon Ineli and saw an expression that could not be put into words.
It wasn’t quite anger or sadness, and although it neared being expressionless, just her gaze alone sent strong feelings of hostility.

When Orba’s eyes met her own, Ineli’s face dyed red, and then slowly paled, after which, she defiantly turned her back and immediately walked away. He caught sight of Baton chasing after her in a flurry out of the corner of his eye.

At long last, the end of the party arrived and Orba was freed from the persistent meddlesome guests. The couples that dispersed as fast as they formed, those that were headed to a different party, those who had drunk themselves unconscious and were being nursed by their servants, those discussing how they wanted to go sightsee the town festival, and—amongst these many people present, the target Noue had long left.

''Tch. What was the point in coming here then?!''

As he thought of returning, a woman in her older years emerged from the garden and called him to a stop. He thought it was another someone claiming to be the gladiator’s fan, but on closer inspection, found the one bowing before him to be Vileena’s head maid, Theresia.

“For helping to save the princess, I offer my most humble gratitude.”

“….What do you mean?”

“Hoho. I see Orba-dono here is the type to save a maiden in distress. You seem well versed with the code of a Garberan knight.”

“I’m a gladiator.” Somewhat puzzled, Orba shook his head. “Lumping a gladiator together with a Garberan knight, you’ll definitely invite resentment. Being a former slave and yet still having taken the princess’ hand, instead, I should be the one begging for forgiveness.”

Half of what he had said was self-derision, and the other half out of cynicism. It was possible for a person of high standing and a slave to talk as equals and hold hands together. However, the difference between that and reality was as big as the sky and the earth.

The whole time, Theresia raised the corner of her eye.

“The princess is not someone who would concern herself about whether or not a person is a slave. Of course, I as well. The princess would even scorn you for your self-abasement. Please bear this in mind.”

''That’s because you don’t know a slave.''

He was about to begin his rebuke, but noticed the bunch of knocked over, empty wine cups on the table Theresia sat at. For the meantime, he sighed and courteously lowered his head. Then a sudden worry came to mind.

“Have you seen the princess?”

“Oh…” Theresia shrugged her shoulders with a troubled expression. “She firmly stated she wanted to take a stroll in the garden ''alone''. Well, the security here is strict enough that she would be fine even if she was alone, but as you see she still hasn’t returned and I’ve been waiting here all this time.”

She presented him a glass, as if to ask, “would you join me?” but he refused with his hand.

“Did you forget something?”

Theresia asked, prompted by Orba who had proceeded to walk towards the garden.

“No.”

Orba left after saying that one word.

He wandered about in the garden, and then made out the figure of someone perched on a slightly elevated hill and marched towards it.

It was a spot that oversaw the forest placed between the palace. The illuminated palace and on the opposite end in a partially depressed area of land, the town lights could be seen. The still expanding crowds of people flooded the festival uproar, and if he listened carefully, he could hear the town’s bustling tumult carried by the winds.

Vileena was there. On the hilltop, her hands clung to a fence her height as she looked down at the townscape. Orba tried to call out her name, but why was it that his voice would not come out.

''So small.''

That was how he saw her. The face of this young girl faintly lit against the town lights was beautiful enough to immediately snap a person’s head to attention, and yet currently displayed an unusual immaturity. The princess was fourteen years old. It was to be expected that she appeared small, but it was the first time Orba had viewed her this way.

A faint humming could be heard. It wasn’t the same as the sound made from the Mephian waltz from before. It sounded like a Garberan tune. Even flying with an airship on end, how many days would it take to get to that distant, cut-off land from here.

The humming continued for some time, when Vileena suddenly stopped and turned around.

A swordsman in silence in the dead of the night, his face concealed by a mask and standing behind her—it was certainly eerie, but Vileena did not utter a single sound, only staring slightly in surprise.

“About before...”

“It was nothing.”

Again, he cut her off before she could offer her thanks. She was now at a loss as to what else to talk to him about. And possibly having found it, she smiled.

“You’ve been one since what happened at Zaim Fortress, haven’t you? For one as a hero to be in such a place by himself isn’t right. Why don’t you go over there and have a toast with everyone?”

“The same goes for the princess. Being alone here is dangerous. Theresia-dono has been waiting for you. Let’s go back together.”

“Me? I am...that’s right, I will be attending a date from hereon forth. With a fine gentleman might I add.”

Vileena giggled at the startled expression Orba made.

''Ah—''

For some reason, Orba could feel his face flush behind his mask.

“It would be good if that were the case, but...” Vileena caught her hair that flickered in the night wind, and once more looked off into the distance.

“What kind of a person is the crown prince? Has he ever found someone he loves, and were they able to find happiness? I’ve never fallen in love. I’ve come to meet many people in Garbera; there are those that I’ve gotten close to, and those that are strict with me and yet guide me along, but of them, those I feel I can call true friends in the very sense of its meaning are fewer than I can count. That’s how it is, even in the home town I was born and raised in. And as for Mephius…”

Vileena was unusually talkative, possibly owing to the night’s darkness. Because her face could not be seen, she might have felt it permissible to lower her guard for now.

“No matter what kind of place it is, I thought I could continue as I always have. Grandfather also told me the same thing. I am unquestionably Vileena Owell. And it’s not as if I’ve changed from how I was in the past. However…”

Vileena spoke in a far-off voice that could not be clearly made out. For a short time, there was silence.

“Orba. Have you ever spoken with the prince?” she asked him.

He gave it some thought and replied, “Yes.” It would have seemed strange if he were not acquainted with the prince. Having done so, Vileena asked him a question that left him even more hard-pressed.

“For you, what kind of person do you see Prince Gil as?”

“Even if you ask me what kind of person he is...”

“It might be slightly shameful, but despite him being my fiancé, the times I have spoken with that man are fewer than I can count. Even now, there are too many things I don’t know about him. If I could get to understand him ever slightly more, I could better fight my own battle here in the lands of this country.”

''Battle.''

What Orba fought every day. Here in these lands, Vileena Owell was also fighting. Her extremely discouraged state was naturally, but not solely caused by Ineli and the others’ ridicule. How she was fighting, the extent of her efforts, even this much wasn’t beyond Orba’s imagination. He himself was like that.

“I take it back. I asked something stupid. Forget I—“

“That prince is,” Orba said as he hung his head. “….That prince is childish. Far more so than you. Extremely more so. Extremely.”

“…”

“Even if he acts like he knows everything, really, there are lots of things he doesn’t understand. That’s why…you can probably guess this without me saying it, things of these sorts, it’s better not to expect anything from him. All of his thoughts, he speaks them out regardless. And for what he doesn’t know, if you don’t teach it to him, he’ll remain forever ignorant.”

After his fast-talking ended, Orba grunted out, “That’s all.”

“Please excuse me. I’m a bad speaker. As for what I want to say, even I…”

“No, it’s fine…..Ok, I get it now.”

Vileena nodded her head.

“Then I shall try to put it in my own words. True, certainly, once the topic strays from himself, he knows almost nothing of others. This includes the people of Mephius.”

“Yes.”

“And—” Vileena’s lips spread open. “I agree that the prince is childish. He follows a seemingly honest train of thought rivalled by his seemingly prudent simplicity. Occasionally, I can almost picture him as a newborn infant.”

“What!?”

“Eh?”

“Ah, no, from far away, I thought I heard some jeers directed towards me.“

He set off from the railing and cleared his throat, as he looked off into the distance.

“It’s about time we go back. Theresia-dono is drinking way too much.”

“I’m sure Theresia is rather happy to have a reason to drink,” Vileena held back a chuckle.

“Well then, let us go. Theresia gets ''scary'' when drunk.”

She hid her embarrassment at her base choice of words.

The two descended the slope and returned to the garden. Theresia hoisted her empty wine cup up into the air. The one who should have followed her lead, the page sitting at the table, lay head down fast asleep.

“Now then. Princess, shall we return to the women’s chambers?”

“No—sorry Theresia, but there’s a place I want to visit.”

“Hm? The princess had hoped to covet much more of the festival to come, because I would buy and give you the many coloured balloons the next day. You would carry a whole bunch of them and most of all, enjoy running about with them outside, did you not?”

“Th-That was when I was a child.” Vileena’s face reddened. “I was thinking we should go and pay the sick prince a visit now.”

“Huh?”

Theresia and Orba both said aloud.

“But Princess. The night is almost past. Even normally, the prince is not one who would kindly take to meeting you.”

“Even if at some point in time it may be impossible, right now, here at this very moment, it is not. No matter if he continues to refuse me. Until I pluck him from his roots, I plan to show up no matter how many times it will take.”

“Princess…”

Theresia said deeply moved, and beside her,

“T-Then, I’ll take my leave. I just remembered an urgent matter. Ahh, I can’t leave it like this,”

Muttering some half-baked excuse, Orba hurriedly made his leave before the two.

Even out on the roads, in the midst of the festival commotion, the horse-drawn carriages were by no means easily accessible. Left with no alternative, Orba ran and ran all the way back to the palace.

''Shit! What does she want with the prince this time?''

She might be coming to utter some sort of complaint again.

He hurried Dinn to quickly help him change his clothes, and just as he slipped into his bed, the sound of the bell resounded.

“Let them in.”

Surprised by Orba’s command, Dinn answered the door and let Vileena and Theresia enter the room.

“How might you be faring today?” Vileena questioned.

She looked somewhat disappointed. All the more so as she had stubbornly insisted on coming here without any notice.

“I seem to be feeling a little better.”

Orba said, pretended to have a coughing fit. Theresia carefully examined his face.

“You’re sweating so much. Your breathing is heavy; I can see you are absolutely ''not'' in good health. Princess, we should cut our visit short for today.”

“N-No, it’s fine. I’ll only be here for a while.”

She sat on the chair Dinn offered her, and stared at the prince who lay in bed.

Feeling the atmosphere somewhat unbearable,

“Is there something you want to say?”

“Well, why do you think so?”

“That’s the impression I got.”

“I only came here to see you. I was thinking you might be bored, being all alone during the festival and whatnot.”

Orba drew a blank at her somewhat bizarre behaviour. He could not see her usual aggressive behaviour that would appear outwardly polite while she waited for the opportunity to strike. He remembered the intimidating air that, normally, was brought about the moment she confronted him that made even he square off.

''Either the princess changed or….''

“Today was quite arduous for the princess. That person called Ineli, it would do good for the prince to exercise some caution against her….”

“Theresia. Stop it.”

In the end, with only two or three harmless exchanges, Vileena immediately stood up from her seat.

“Well then. Please rest up. If you were to happen to have some appetite tomorrow, I will bring something over from the festival.”

“And some of the princess’ favourite balloons as well.”

“The-re-si-a! You talk too much!”

While he ascertained her leaving back, he gave thought to his impressions.

''It’s not her.''

He had chosen not to go to where Oubary or Zaat was, but to the Moonlight Palace. It was undeniable he had gone to meet with Noue face-to-face, but more than that, he wanted to meet with Vileena and ascertain her feelings.

The messenger dispatched by Noue had said they were indifferent to her life, but that may also have been a ploy designed to win Oubary over, or perhaps Vileena herself was made to participate in Garbera’s plans, unaware her life was being targeted, but…

''She’s not taking part in it. She’s too determined to pursue her own battle in Mephius.''

She had raised the issue about Kaiser that time when he returned from the Saian residence, and absolutely would not approve of it. All the more proof she had established Mephius as her second home.

''If it’s not the princess', it’s hard to imagine Garbera to be the one pulling the strings. Is it all Noue and Oubary’s scheme?''

Not realizing his own strange feelings of relief, new feelings sprang forth that Noue’s plans must not come into fruition

If his motives were to be expressed into words, some things immediately came to mind. There were his feelings that did not want things to go Oubary’s way, and also with the line provided by War, he had finally now caught hold of some clues related to Apta Fortress. And yet, if this country were to fall into chaos right here and now, he held apprehensions that he might lose hold of these clues. And, if Mephius were to collapse into ruins, he would lose the authority vested in the prince, whose role he had continued to work so hard to play, and in the end, return to being a gladiator with no power. Then he would not be able to realize a single one of his goals.

However, right now, far outweighing all those reasons,

''To so easily throw away the life of a princess who so desperately threw herself into an unfamiliar country and is fighting her battle….what are they scheming?''

Anger.

Anger towards those who unconcernedly attempt to manipulate the lives, the fates of others. The very anger he harboured when his village was burned down, that gave form to dark, viscous emotions.

''Like I’ll fuckin’ let them.''

''Like I’ll let a single fuckin’ thing go according to those bastards’ wishes.''

Orba rose up from his bed like never before.

Away from the main building of the Mephian palace, in the outer palace stood a similarly small tower situated near ground level. There lay the allotted quarters for the foreign ambassadors to stay.

Looking up from the windows of one of these rooms at the palace, now illuminated in commemoration of the founding festival, was the Garberan envoy Noue Salzantes. Compared to his country’s own buildings, the Mephian palace seemed almost rustic. But he was used to it. He had passed an upwards of five years charged as acting Deputy Chief in the Apta Fortress he had plundered from Mephius.

That fortress was currently undergoing salvage operations in preparation for its transfer to Mephius. He was here under the pretence of offering wedding congratulations to Mephius’ prince and Garbera’s princess. During this hectic period of time, he had gone out of his way to volunteer as an envoy for Mephius’ founding anniversary. His country had also agreed it. He had charged past the others to be the first in following up on the discussion of the assignment for the congratulatory envoy.

“For the present, I’ve laid out my hand.”

Noue had said in his room absent of people while fully in reign of his emotions. The smiling countenance he had shown in front of Ineli and Orba had been flung off. Although expressionless, that face was terrifyingly beautiful.

A fair-skinned and slim body. On top of his loosely fitted robe, his long hair flowed. No doubt his appearance bore that of a prodigal noble. And his feminine gestures—both were things he had personally taken a liking to. By Garberan standards, he was a dandy, and to go even further, simply sloven and a man unfit for a country of knights.

His behaviour aside, Noue was recognized by everyone throughout the country for his genius. The Salzantes House had ruled the lands of Rhodes generation after generation as its feudal lords. They also held vast portions of territories and strong political influence in Garbera. But Noue quickly surrendered the seat as head of the family to his younger brother and resigned from the seat of elected deputy governor of the royal capital. “That way I can rest easy,” he had claimed as the reason for his actions, but his real motive differed slightly. With the territory in his possession, he was forced to tediously perform day after day of miscellaneous duties and he wanted time to do as he pleased; time to do the work he enjoyed. Namely,

''Strategy, resourceful warfare, and conquest.''

In the past, he was the one who devised the stratagem on the attack on Apta Fortress where General Oubary was present. At first he only made use of the cavalry, and tirelessly repeated this method of assault. His employment of such a shoddy strategy had invited complaints from his own army and allowed the situation at Apta to turn completely against them. And Noue, as if evident to say, “Oh no it’s all over,” had his main force retreat.

But in actuality, they lay concealed near the fortress. At the same time, a pre-arranged, separate force deployed to a nearby forest in the Mephius territory moved out. They purposely allowed themselves to be discovered by a scouting party, at which time the main force mobilised, suggestively hinting their target to be the capital.

And in accordance with his predictions, the enemy forces met at Apta were successfully split. Noue, accurately gauging this timing, immediately returned with the main forces and launched an all-out offensive attack. However, the forces situated at Apta who had repelled the previously fierce cavalry assault had grown conceited, and for this very reason, had called back for reinforcements too late. Noue deployed the unscathed airship unit, which until then had been held in reserve, and made the soldiers encamping the fortress fall in the blink of an eye, thereafter laying siege on the castle. He had successfully seized the fortress in under a month.

''Six years ago.''

''Right. At that time, I had met Ryucown.''

As he thought of that man's name, Noue looked up unimpressed at the palace, his eyes bearing only the slightest of sentiments.

Ryucown was still only a knight apprentice then. But even in those days he enthused towards his dream. He had not strived to become the ideal knight. No, he wanted Garbera to become the ideal country of knights. Having first heard that he held such a grand ambition,

''What a fool.''

Noue had sneered. Ryucown was no more than five years apart from him, but he still believed in such completely childish dreams. Noue was a realist. While he thought the resourcefulness of battles to be interesting, he knew that neither whole countries nor the world could so easily be swayed by them. Noue was physically weak by nature and detested those who relied only on their own armed might and bragged about it.

It was only the face and name of Ryucown who displayed his daring valour at the Battle of Apta that he remembered.

After roughly one year had come to pass, Ryucown became an official knight for defeating the rebel Bateaux. From that point on, he performed his numerous and even now praise-worthy services in the war against Mephius. Several of these had involved Noue.

Before he went into battle, Ryucown, who had made his way to Apta, sent a messenger by airship in his place. —Noue had awarded a written proposal to the pleading man. Ryucown had already begun to win acclaim as a hero. Even though he was a man of high popularity throughout the country, he was after all first and foremost a warrior surprised by Noue’s knowledge, which played to Noue’s ill pleasantry. And each time,

“Simply fascinating,” Ryucown would candidly praise him, his eyes full of wonder. “Being here in Apta, how are you able to analyze the movements of the battlefield and the men, who like me, are moving about through the battlefield in such great detail? It’s as if you possess clairvoyance.”

“The power of imagination.” Noue pointed towards his own head. “Those unable to even learn, to experience, are no more than brutes, Ryucown. Men, at times, are able to draw upon their own accumulated knowledge, and the teachings handed down by their ancestors to procure their desires within this expanse world.”

“I see. You are literally fighting with your head. Like this, against Arion, against Ende, no matter what country you may be facing against, it will possible to do so with your powers of simulation. Pray tell me, what it is that Garbera now needs so that I may fulfil my dream in making Garbera a world power.

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v02 147.jpg|thumb]]
“Ahahaha. You are simple-minded, Ryucown. Surely even I have not thought that far. But that does not mean it is completely out of reach. There is no need for a full picture. With enough assembled fragments of information, it will be possible to draw out the big picture.”

On reciprocating his thoughts, to Noue’s embarrassment, he found himself to also be simple-minded. The man known as Ryucown was simplistically straightforward and held a peculiar charm. Even men in opposition would naturally become charmed by it.

“Then I shall act as Lord Noue’s eyes and ears. Be it by horse, be it by air carrier, I shall go around the world and collect Lord Noue’s desired fragments. So that we, together, may make Garbera rise above all others as a gallant country.”

Even as Noue laughed aloud,

''If it’s this man, it may be possible.''

He could feel this thought welling up within him. Large dreams gave way to men’s setbacks. Those setbacks would return them to reality. But for Ryucown, that dream might possibly be granted. Those eyes that looked straight forward, free of distraction, might come to obtain the said fragments.

Precisely because Ryucown held such thoughts, Noue had proposed the betrothal of Princess Vileena to Ryucown. There were sure signs of things beginning to stir. Together with Ryucown as they strived towards their dream day after day, Noue would undoubtedly come across new, never before experienced fragments.

''However.''

A dream was but a dream.

Noue’s methodology and Ryucown’s ideals were unmatched by all others. They were unable to give birth to their dreams.

In the course of advancing peace negotiations with Mephius, the princess Vileena had also been married off to Mephius. Having only looked towards his dream, Ryucown was struck far harder than Noue. Even that fortitudinous man had little choice but to return to reality. That was the one thing Noue found most vexing.

And—

''Damn you, Ryucown. Why did you not call out to me even once?''

That man who had always adopted the mindset of a youthful boy was not one who could be brought down to his knees when faced with reality. Unable to agree with his own country’s way of handling things, he had even risen up against it. When Noue received notice of this, he was unable to do anything. No matter how much he relied on his powers of imagination, Ryucown’s bright future could not be conjured. And yet another happening occurred outside his field of imagination.

''Ryucown was defeated.''

''However—that name that was not in my predictions now is.''

He was the prince of Mephius, Gil Mephius. The one deemed by rumours as an imbecile.

''This man, aside for the difference in the size of their forces, managed to tear apart a fortress Ryucown occupied, and moreover, on his first campaign?...''

He wanted it. The fragments of information related to this incident. Namely, the parts for him to come to terms with this fact, at the very least. If not, there was no way he could repay Ryucown for being unable to ascertain his dream.

That was why he had come here. The wind entering from the window blew against Noue’s long hair. It was a breath-taking sight.

''Of course, I won’t be settling with only this information as a souvenir. I am not so modest. There are several things I desire; preparations towards Ende, chaos in Mephius, and the crown prince who slayed Ryucown.''

Even if Noue was unable to predict everything, whilst Noue stayed at Apta, he advanced his preparations so that he could drive a wedge into a Mephius at any time. The time to use it had arrived.

''I shall bring all out of it back with me.''

As his black hair swayed to and fro, it glimmered with the shine of a naked blade.
<noinclude>
==Translator's Notes and References==
<references/>

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| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume2 Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume2 Chapter4|Chapter 4]]
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Rakuin no Monshou:Volume2 Chapter1

2022-07-20T21:37:10Z

98.113.91.34:

==Chapter 1: Endless Battle==
=== Part 1 ===
Upon finding that Kaiser had been imprisoned, Fedom Aulin jumped up. Kaiser Islan was a noble who once served as a member of the Imperial council.

One week earlier. In a morning council, Mephius' emperor, Guhl Mephius, proposed the relocation of the Dragon God shrine accompanied by a large-scale reconstruction. The shrine, built 200 years ago to worship the Dragon God, has always been in the basement under the imperial capital Solon's renowned Black Tower. It would now be moved towards the vicinity of the palace, and made into a marvellous structure.

Of the sudden comments, some of the nobles graciously offered flattery, but Kaiser alone had directly expressed his feelings of opposition. The amount of gold and people required made it far from precedent. Now was the time to fix the relations between Mephius, Garbera, and Ende, though of course, the circumstances weren't ones that provided for the highest of prospects. To start with, in the festivals dedicated to the Dragon God that were already held several times a year, practically none of the people even showed up; in other words it had become a thing of the past.

"There should be more critical issues at hand. Forgive my insolence, but please reconsider."

"Is that so," was all the emperor said. And then the talk was over.

Kaiser was well into his mid-fifties, and held a long standing relation with the current emperor. Like that, no one paid the squabble another thought.

But, five days later, Kaiser, through an open evening party held at his residence, newly reproached the king's political measures. "Recently, his majesty passes over whatever he says without warning," he drunkenly grieved to the close friends he had invited over.

Normally, this would not have warranted any special course of action, but this time the emperor entered into a fit of rage for some unknown reason and declared, "Those are the thoughts of a rebel!" All of a sudden, troops surrounded Kaiser's residence, and they arrested him. "I'm acting without notice"<ref>The king's retort, imitating the statement Kaiser blurted out that led to his arrest</ref>—and, Kaiser's own actions had unexpectedly become evidence against him.

Unease soon spread within Solon as doubts were raised, questioning whether his majesty planned to execute Kaiser. Three days and nights passed. Kaiser was placed underground, in a prison unfit for a noble, and forbidden even a single meeting with his family.

Fedom had jumped, in response to being struck by a seeming mixture of shock and dread—because he had also personally voiced his opinion to the king having seen an opportunity to hasten peace negotiations with Garbera—and there was something else; something completely different. His chest filled with a feeling of delight bordering excitement.

''It might be my turn at last.''

Emperor Guhl Mephius would once more put his plan of strengthening his own authority into action, and in the process earn the hostility of his surroundings. That was when Fedom would put his own plan into practice, and the testimony of that day drew near. The foundation of a new political power, one in support of Prince Gil, would be formed within the empire.

It was a large ambition. Were the feelings within him the same that Kaiser held? No, it was a fact that he held stern eyes from this point on that made it impossible to detect even a glimmer of his emotions. And it was only this that prompted him to call out.

"Lord Fedom."

Down the Main Palace's hallway, as Zaat Quark greeted him, Fedom thought to himself, ''I met a troublesome fellow.''

"Have you heard of Lord Kaiser's circumstances?"

"Immediately so."

"Just what is his majesty planning? This has gone too far for a joke! You must tell me your thoughts. I will take it with me to my grave."

Zaat was relentless, and Fedom evasively answered befittingly. Zaat Quark was head of the so-called anti-imperial faction. Of course, it wasn’t as if he walked around with a sign hanging on him stating who he was. Like Fedom, he followed a similar train of thought, and in remonstration before the emperor who was so insistent on fighting to the bitter end, helped in convincing him to promote peace negotiations. He also held a position as a member of the Founding Imperial Council, and it was clearly evident that he in no way harboured positive sentiments towards the emperor who had reduced the Imperial Council to one in name only.

In this sense, Zaat considered Fedom as a comrade. Or at least, he ''should'' have.

"There has not been too many aggravated situations, but there is bound to be a backlash. For this reason, we are to spread idle chatter of his intentions with this 'joke', which will instead become truth. This is a secretive matter. You know fully well of the king's temperament."

"How are you so calm? This is treason against the emperor! And did you know? Just the other day, the king met with a messenger from Ende and—"

"Pardon me. I have some matters to attend to."

"Lord Fedom," Zaat knitted his deep black eyebrows, "This isn't like you. Worrying over the country's future in earnest to this extent, you're even prepared to face his majesty's judgment! Surely, the affair regarding Lord Kaiser hasn't left you losing your wits."

"Mind your words, milord." Fedom fixed a sharp glare at Zaat. Age-wise, Fedom was 10 years older.

"How rude of me. But lately, you've been acting strange." ''Strange'', probably referred to how he was recently sticking to Prince Gil Mephius all the time. Leaving the still insistent Zaat, Fedom hurried along. For Fedom who should have been on the very same anti-imperial faction, there was no other way but for him to seemingly change his allegiance."

''That damned Zaat, curses! Making a face as if he knows everything. He plans to test me, eh?''

To start with, Fedom never held any good will towards Zaat. There were plenty of competent intellectuals around, but for Fedom's knowledge alone, many of powerful men had clearly come to him for favours. In the case of the peace talks, after unfastening a historical document, "That country's precedent was so and so", "According to former traditions, this and that should be done," he one by one brought out old information that left the others rather dumbfounded.

''To be treated as a coward of all things!''

Far from it, Fedom had crossed a far more dangerous line in voicing his concerns to the emperor than Zaat ever had. In terms of risks alone, his plan was immeasurably more dangerous. And this plan was finally about to enter the stage where it could be implemented. He was dazzled by the thought.

"What's wrong?" Orba asked, staring at Fedom as he gave off a creepy expression.

"You suddenly went quiet, and your complexion turned blue, then red. You seem ''very'' sick."

"Shut your mouth!" Fedom cursed in embarrassment. They were in the prince's room within the Main Palace. Just in case, he had pretended to bring along a get-well present, though Fedom continued to behaved rudely regardless.

"That aside, what's with you? I drop by this once to find you haven't made a speck of progress! You don't have all the time in the world. Dinn, how do you explain this sorry state?!"

Precisely because the final time drew nearer, he could not be impatient with Prince Gil's ''education'' to guarantee success. He aimed the brunt of his frustrations towards Dinn, the page in charge of this education.

"I can't believe this," Gil Mephius grumbled.

Fedom left immediately after he had finished speaking his mind. Gil gave a big yawn, having read through all of the Mephian history books spread out on the table without rest until a short while ago.

"It's as if I was a new sword-slave about to enter the fray in the arena for the first time all over again. Though those guys generally don't get a chance to appear a second time."

"In any case, Fedom-sama was right to scold you," Dinn said as he removed the tea leaves from the newly brewed tea. "If you would only try harder. Then you could take on the prince's appearance in public without putting him to shame, and yet, at this rate two, three, even ten years wouldn't be enough."

"Table manners, the study of Mephian culture, memorizing the names of successive generations of emperors and their accomplishments by heart, and spending one hour a day standing in front of a mirror correcting my posture and smile; these are things I might not use my whole life. What's the point in continuing this?"

"All of it is necessary."

"I'm fed up with learning the faces and names of those old geezers. Anyway, bring the military documents over. You can place them next to those records of recent battles."

He laid down on the couch, whilst pretending not to hear Dinn's reproaches. Just now, Fedom seemed to be irritated for some reason, but for Gil—the gladiator Orba, also formerly known as the Iron Tiger—his pent up emotions were no smaller in size than Fedom's.

He had been picked up by Fedom to act as a body double, but Orba never had any intention of doing only as he was told since the beginning. Even if he had to make use of this position, he would accomplish his goal:

To get revenge on the people that took everything from him. And to search for all the things he had lost.

He had finally reached the point where, with his own hands, he could bring himself closer to the many goals he held that couldn't be granted with the status of sword-slave. But the situation had reached a stand-still.

"Today, another twenty meeting requests had to be turned down. It is Rodloom-sama's fifth time by request of Ineli-sama and for Baton-sama—if you remember his name, he is one of the prince's best friends—he has come twice. One month of valuable time has already passed since your first campaign, and it will only seem more and more unusual."

For this one month, Fedom had confined Orba within the prince's room. Under the pretext that the mental strain from his first campaign and sudden change in environment over the several days had caused his physical condition to crumble, he was not allowed to participate in official business and was prohibited from personally meeting with the large number of people who sought to get closer to him. During this time, he devoted himself to Orba's education in making him more prince-like, no matter how little, as part of his plan.

Naturally, within that month, Orba built up his knowledge, and mastered manners. He was forced to endlessly repeat these activities. Unable to search for his mother, brother, and Alice's whereabouts, he spent his time on meaningless extravagance that only served to test his patience to its limits.

"Because Fedom-sama is not aware of the current situation here, he's convinced that he settled everything with the words ‘Refuse the meetings,’ but he really needs to put himself in the shoes of the one refusing. Everyone had finally started to see the prince in a new light after his first campaign, and now this happens," Dinn grumbled his complaints, but suddenly faltered.

"Are you a ''fool''?" Orba interrupted. "If I'm still struck with horror from my first campaign, they’ll wonder what that heroic prince was doing when the battle took place, and then they’ll find he didn’t abide by the decree to go into battle, only to be shaking in his boots."

"W-Would you like to go for a stroll?"

"That was something I just thought up. Isn't it fine? The former prince was this kind of person. This would clear us of suspicions instead."

''The problem is,''

While joking around, Orba thought of another matter. When Fedom had come just moments ago, there was something he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

''of the two, which is the real 'fool'''

A body double would normally only act the role during essential times. There should be no need to set up a double, especially when the palace situation was normal. Fedom had subsequently claimed it was because there was a risk of assassination even in the capital city of Solon, which should have been a sufficient explanation, but Orba obviously didn't buy it.

And also,

When the battle at Zaim Fortress had ended, Fedom accidentally let slip that no one else knew of the fact the prince had been substituted for a body double. On that account, Fedom might be the only one involved in this plan he set up. If that were to be true, even Orba—who was beside death's door during his two years as a sword-slave—couldn't possibly have shaken off that overwhelmingly chilling sensation..

No one else knowing would imply that Fedom was deceiving all of the Mephians, himself excluded. Orba also, under no condition, could allow himself to rest. This was a matter his life counted on.

"Mephius' founding festival is approaching. It is a festival that gathers the whole country together. If you do not make an appearance here, things will take a bad turn. Just how long will Fedom-sama..."

At that moment, the bell was rung. Dinn responded by leaving. Beyond the door, a voice could be heard from a small room facing the corridor. It sounded like Ineli. Immediately after Emperor Guhl had lost his wife, he married a second wife and her daughter, Ineli, had become Gil's younger stepsister.

Once the heated discussion ended, Dinn returned. He gave off a face of total exhaustion.

"That person ranks as the most difficult."

"What happened?"

"The usual 'Let's go hang out' invitation from your close friends and 'Instead of being holed up in that room with that of weak body his, he needs some recreational activity' remark."

"I see," Orba said, somewhat occupied with other thoughts. "Back then, what did Gowen say to you?"

"Eh? Oh, he asked whether we could go together to General Saian's residence after receiving his invitation."

"Then let's head over to where Ineli and the group is. I’ll take care of these two engagements in one go. Pass the message to her for me."

"But Fedom-sama said..."

"It's better if I learn some faces up close . Lets go with this ruse: the prince is left with a nasty temper due to his bad shape. No one will think much of it if he acts a little differently, especially if it's within his own home. If it's just for a bit, it'll work."

Orba by no means had any intentions of becoming the same as the flustered Dinn. He refused to take no action. No matter how big, essentially, this one room was no different from a prison, and felt himself crushed with impatience and insecurities as he passed days on end.

''This also counts as a battle. Completely becoming the prince will bring me one step closer in searching for Alice and my family,'' he murmured to persuade himself.

And within Solon was one other person unable to dispel her growing irritation.

"How about this dress? How does it compare to the previous white and vivid one? Aah, but I wonder if the second dress might be better since it is a Mephian one. But then the tiara I brought from my own country won't match. I'll have to ask the maids here, and show my appreciation later."

"Uh huh."

In a room lying deep within the women's chamber, compared to the briskly bustling Theresia, Vileena offered not even the slightest of movements. As a guest from Garbera, the fourteen year-old princess played around with the dresses and tried on multiple ornaments. Upon witnessing this sight, even the enemies of her parents would scowl at their own reflected appearance.

"Honestly, if it were the Garberan royal court, it wouldn't matter how famous the designer was. On sending out an official notice that a princess was in need of new provisions, a pile of dresses would appear in her room without waiting a week. To go out and playfully trample over them was what it meant to be a princess.”

"Right."

"Solon, being far from any sea trading base, has very little high quality cloth. Even though it's my first set of tailored clothes, if I had known three months ago that an advance order was necessary, I would have taken measures before the wedding."

"Is that so."

"If you were to become any more skilful at being dependent on others, you might not have a chance to get any closer to the empress, that is, your stepmother. You are fussing over a dress and tiara. To become a bride is to enter your partner's family. To become a harmonious couple, such endeavours are needed. ....Aah, but if I remember correctly, the current empress is the second wife. Because the prince is not her own son, she may not care much for his wife."

Yes, and Vileena's form once more stood across the mirror. Theresia glared at her, and before long decided to take a ''deep'' breath.

"Vileena-sama!!"

"Eek!"

With a startled jump, Vileena instantly came to a halt. "Shouting in a person's ear like that..."

"If I hadn't used this volume of voice, then the current princess would not have heard me," Theresia puffed up her chest. "The princess is choosing clothes to wear at the founding festival as if it is someone else's problem. Generally, when women pick their dress and any earrrings or bracelets that might match it even a little, they fidget around restlessly, unable to calm themselves down. Anticipating for their fated partner, or possibly realizing their insecurities, they indulge in their own worries while also having fun."

"On that matter, I have complete faith in you. If it is of your opinion."

"Oh my, I am humbly delighted to receive such a generous praise...and? What are you really thinking? Will you share with me? Are you thinking about how you haven't rode in an air carrier recently, or how you want to fly in the sky? Or if it's not riding that you want to do, then how you could maybe pass time doing maintenance, or how you miss the smell of oil. Ah! It must be about why the prince hasn't come to visit you."

"That last one was completely uncalled for!"

Vileena scowled, but could not conceal the smile on her mouth. Theresia had always been a formidable foe. In a straight battle of wits, she would immediately get caught in her pace. And then with a shrug,

"Well, since his return from his first campaign, he's shut himself in his room the whole time. The frail prince is somewhat like a princess."

"It has already been a month since, and he hasn't allowed anyone to see his face. For a maiden in love, it is a rather long time..."

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v02 025.jpg|thumb]]
"Anyhow!" Vileena forcefully interrupted, "I'm not hiding anything. I'm annoyed. How much longer will these awkward times continue? The scheduled day of the wedding has not been the least bit decided, and my range of activities has been restricted the entire time. I'll be frank. This is not the least bit fun!"

"Haaa."

On that assertion, Theresia had no clue on what to do. But she also planned to grasp the princess' words. Whether or not Garbera still held any influence on it, the marriage ceremony had been postponed indefinitely. There were considerably few places Vileena could freely roam, and day after day her growing irritation only worsened.

Originally, even within her Garberan homelands, she was an energetically active princess who would not be found in the same place within the same hour. Spending whole days living her life doing everything within a small portion of the women's chambers was something she completely could not agree with. She would occasionally show up for tea and dinner parties after receiving an invitation from the noblewomen, but would experience nothing but agony as she put on the guise of a smiling face.

"The prince too, appears to have entirely forgotten that his fiancée is here. But during times like these, isn't there also that? He could exchange letters and then pass the message on to the chamberlain, right?"

"It is often used in stories. Secretly accompanying the letter would be a love poem."

"Of course I would be mad if he doesn’t even tell me his intentions. And to add to the problems, there is unrest within Mephius no matter how you look at it. The emperor refuses to offer an explanation for his judgment of Islan, who appears to have been imprisoned. There would be nothing to gain from doing this in Garbera. His retainers, however, neither challenge nor protest against him, only taking sneak peeks at his countenance and taking care not to face his wrath."

''It is exactly as she says,'' Theresia thought in her head. She usually did not make such an understanding statement based on rumours alone, but Theresia had known her for a long time, and kept silent.

"If the retainers cannot give counsel due to fear, then the prince himself should act as an intermediary for the retainers. The emperor may find admonition disagreeable, but if it were Gil, his own son and successor, he should be willing to lend an ear."

"Truly."

"And yet, he has not outstripped his poor physical condition nor been cured of the illness he received from the front. If he cares about his country's future, he should even be crawling on his knees if need be. If it were my grandfather, he would hurl scoldings at him for not having enough guts.”

"Speaking of which, you want to have a meeting with the prince, right? If that's the case," Theresia said with a clap, "how should we go about the get-well present?"

"Get-well present?"

As a matter of fact, Theresia had been waiting for the right timing to broach the topic. There was no way Vileena hadn’t considered the thought, but it was hard for her to say upfront that she would personally go to see her fiancé, who had neglected her for so long.

"Come now, the princess was going to ensnare the prince right? To get him to fall madly in love with you, a certain degree of preparation will be needed. For this to happen, this Theresia whom you've fully placed your trust on will to the best of her abilities, make you Mephius' most beautiful woman!"

Theresia immediately began selecting clothes that would charm the impotent soon-to-be husband.

===Part 2===
"What do you think of His Highness Gil?"

"What do you mean?" Ineli tilted her head.

"You already know what I'm talking about," the one speaking said with a pout. He was Baton Cadmos.

"Even now I still can't believe it. For ''that'' crown prince Gil to achieve merits on his first campaign."

Saddled on their horses on the top of a hill, the youths waiting for Prince Gil neared their twenties and were all sons coming from families of distinguished nobles. Even though this was true, none of them held the right of the eldest son to succeed their family. Baton too, was the third son of the Cadmos House and had already turned 19, but spent everyday roaming about doing nothing.

The boys nodded in unison.

"That's true. Looks like there's quite a few rumours too."

"Rumours?"

"He was sent on his first campaign for the time being to be adorned with merits to appear more suitable as a successor, for one. After he won the battle, Oubary’s been complaining how he’s had it rough on his side "

"Isn't it a bit late? His Majesty the Emperor has already publicly denounced His Highness as ''useless'', you know."

"It's because it's now. The Mephius imperial family has no other appropriate male heir. If you were to be married and get a husband, then that would be a different story."

"Sorry about that," Ineli stuck out her tongue. "Well, the brother I know can't be connected to the one actively participating in the battlefield as I've heard."

"That's why, let's test it out," Baton said with a grin.

"Baton, whenever you get these thoughts nothing good comes out of it."

"It'll be fine. No one's going to get hurt. I just want to see how things play out. Will that prince who bravely took part in the battlefield maintain his composure or not when entangled with your neighbourhood thug."

"I guess," Ineli purposely opened her mouth in the shape of a zero.<ref>You could also think 本当 in Japanese or the word "whole"</ref> "Really, you have such a ''great'' personality, Lord Cadmos!"

"Shh! Here they come."

The guards accompanying Prince Gil Mephius came into view along the hill's ridgeline. Everyone courteously gave their salutations. "Ah," Gil slovenly nodded back. He looked partially pale. It was more than justified for one bedridden and bearing the mental fatigue from the battlefield.

"It has been a while, your Highness. Now then everyone, salute Mephius' new hero" Baton said jokingly, causing everyone laugh. Gil kept a stern expression void of any smiles. The guards were sent back, and Gil got on his horse.

Orba joined with everyone else and they slowly rode off. Not even thirty minutes ago back at the palace, the one who proposed they should go on horseback seemed to have been Ineli. "The weather finally turned nice too. Let's take a slight detour," she suggested. There were five other people accompanying her. According to the information Dinn had investigated beforehand, they were all sons of distinguished nobles, and had been acquainted with the prince since young.

For Orba, his first exposure to sunlight in a month felt great. The wind gently brushed across his face, and the fragrance that drifted from the palace flower gardens wasn't too bad either. But he never lowered his guard. While donning a scowl filled with displeasure, Orba carefully paid attention to their conversation. He needed to grasp their personalities and confirm what kind of power relation he held with them.

''This is also a battle.''

"Could you cheer up a bit?" Ineli popped up from behind and said with a smile. He was riding together with her. Her surprisingly slender arms wrapped around his waist.

"I really shouldn't have come." Orba averted her eyes. "I wanted to sleep for one more day."

"That won't do. If the prince had not received an invitation, then even we wouldn't be forced to meet with that boorish Rogue," The one who elatedly stuck out his tongue was Troa Hergei. The young boy stuck his head out from under the mounted horse, leaving it as something to be pitied.

In a bored tone, Baton Cadmos began, "What? Rogue's place again?

"That's right. Have you always had such a close relationship with him?"

"He supported me during my first campaign. He wouldn’t stop going on about how he wanted to tell me war stories, and how I should keep him company at least once."

"Oh? Support in battle, you say. No less expected of the future successor to the Mephius Empire, it seems that you cannot stay as the children that we are. Support and the like, with all due respect, those are unthinkable words you just spoke. Could it be that you've slowly outgrown those playful times with us?"

Only a year older than the prince—and consequently two years older than Orba---Baton talking while assuming an air of superiority was, frankly, a mood dampener. He held a prominent physique, but his speech and mannerisms clearly showed he was nothing more than a child at heart.

''That fuckin' scumbag of a noble.''

It wasn't only Baton, but all of the other boys looked down on Prince Gil as well. To be hanging out with such a company of friends would mean Gil was either brain-dead or had a very capable personality.

Before long, they commanded a view of the Black Sword that stood in the centre of Solon to their left, as thunder rang across the hillside, and they finally arrived at Rogue Saian's mansion.

Rogue opened the gates, and greeted everyone with a smile across his face.

"Oh, if it isn't the prince. I'm sorry for troubling you to come here. You're in good health, I hope. After all, the prince is still young. You eat to your heart's content to replenish your vigour, drink until your blood turns hot, and fend off all sorts of illnesses in a moment's notice."

The aged but hearty Rogue was already in the yard grilling meat, and laying out several types of wine. Before his arrival, Gowen exchanged grins with Orba in anticipation. Once the head supervisor, he now served as a commanding officer of the crown prince's Imperial Guards. They had hit it off in the previous campaign, as veterans of battle, and since then, had been on good terms.

"Oh?"

The neighbouring Hou Ran had caught Baton's attention. Her skin shone a brilliant ebony under the bask of the sun.

"If this race of people isn't a rare sight in Solon. Whose guest is she?"

"She's my foster daughter. Hou Ran is also an acting officer in the Imperial Guards."

Gowen replied to the impolite Baton's question with a slight change in expression. After the battle at Zaim Fortress, she was not permitted to enter the Imperial Guards' living quarters. So Orba had given her another house, and made her live under Gowen's adoption.

Baton never stopped his curious stares. During this predicament, Hou Ran completely disregarded the boys' conversation. It really was Ran-like of her, and Orba could barely contain himself.

Rogue's wife came out, leading a small child by the hand and offered her greetings.

"This is Mephius' prince. Romus, aren't you also going to greet him?" Rogue urged the child.

He was a boy about twelve, thirteen years old, and possessed an atmosphere similar to Dinn's that differed him from an outspoken boy, and a mouth that only let out slight mumbles. He quickly sank back behind Rogue.

"That's a cute grandson you have there."

"Not at all! He's a good-for-nothing son."

And with just that outburst, Ineli refrained herself from voicing any further impressions. Rogue's wife certainly seemed far younger than he was.

"The only trait he has inherited is that cowardice of mine. Even now, he is afraid to go out in the company of others. It makes me wonder if he’ll be able to get through his adult ceremony in one piece like this.”

The founding festival would be held next week. Of course, various events and ceremonies were arranged, and amongst them would be a coming-of-age ceremony for the sons of nobles and distinguished families. And there would also be an event unimaginable to any other country: public riding on a dragon's back. The ceremony used baby dragons barely several months old, but whose fangs were more than enough to bite through an adult in his prime and kill him. In the past, victims would pop up in this same way every year.

Unlike the past, it was rarely held at present. Once every few years, the houses like the Saian family, bearing a lineage of military commanders, would hold an event to show off their prided sons. This time, Rogue surely intended to have his son participate.

"I implore your highness to stop my husband. That sort of ceremony is entirely impossible for Romus. All he will remember is the atrocious scene that will unfold—"

"Stop it. Do not trouble his highness with our family circumstances. Don't worry, he'll train hard for this day. Won’t you, Romus?"

Romus offered neither assent nor dissent, only gazing up at his father in faintheartedness, unable to decide whether he was more afraid of the dragon or of angering his father.

Rogue said he had borrowed a young dragon from the army's military training camp for Romus to practice and get accustomed to.

"One day, I feel he will want to enter a training school to become a Winged Dragon Officer. But first, Romus must be able to exude a noble spirit before large crowds.”

A winged dragon—literally a dragon with wings, was however, an existence found only in the southern volcanic islands of the planet.

Referred to as winged dragon officers in Mephius, qualified commanders were charged with authority over an upwards of a hundred men and tasked with the operation of flying vessels, namely dragonstone ships. Rogue Saian himself was a winged dragon officer and held the authority to take command of entire fleets.

"Now, if you're done with your meal then go take care of the dragons, Romus. You need all the practice you can."

Romus once again gave a conventional farewell in response to his father's words and took his leave.

Orba and the others remained seated as the servants of the Saian household cut the meat and vegetables into pieces, and prepared the wine. Orba refused the wine with a hand gesture. He never had a strong tolerance for alcohol, and who knew what he might let out in a drunken stupor. During the course of their meal, Rogue told stories of the battlefield. Orba did nothing more than attest to them.

"We aren't exactly interested in your story," Baton and the others bluntly pointed out boredly. The only one who showed interest was surprisingly, the female Ineli. She listened intently to the circumstances revolving around the battle in excitement.

"Princess, I can see you hold the spirit of a warrior." Rogue said brimming with delight. "I only wish my own son could be like that."

The story eventually reached the point where, thanks to the prince's quick wittedness, they were able to march into the fortress where several strong warriors lay in wait. And then Ineli suddenly clapped her hands as she remembered something.

"That's right. I've always been meaning to hear about it if I ever met with brother. Wasn’t the one who defeated Ryucown was a gladiator? I was really surprised when I heard his name. Brother, do you remember him? You know, that Iron Tiger Orba!

Orba, who was just drinking tea at the moment, entered into a choking fit.

"You saw it at Ba Roux, right? The one who saved me from that Sozos dragon!"

"Y-Yeah."

"Did you know he became a member of your Imperial Guards? If that's the case, can't you let me meet him one time?"

"What's going to happen when you meet the supposed gladiator?" 

Not paying any mind to Baton's grimace of a response,

"I never thanked him for that time he saved me from the dragon. And I wanted to talk with the one who personally exchanged blows with General Ryucown. Just what kind of gentleman was General Ryucown, and how skilled was he was with a sword? Doesn't thinking about it leave you trembling in excitement? I'm so close to the person who practically experienced the scene that would leave its mark in history!"

Ineli continued to be engrossed in her talk. Without realizing she had made Orba's expression darken,

"Ahh, it would’ve been so great if Ryucown had been captured and made to fight Orba in a one-on-one within the arena . The battle at the fortress could redone, and if Orba managed to take the head of Ryucown then, the festival would bustle at its peak—"

Boom! Orba had slammed his cup onto the table, causing Ineli's voice to taper off. Orba was trembling, and everyone's attention quickly turned towards him.

"Prince."

The one who leaned his body forward was Gowen. He poured tea into Orba's now empty cup. His eyes stared into Orba’s, urging him not to be so emotional. Orba drew back his chin and gave a nod.

Turning to face Ineli, "You will soon," he said hoping to smooth things out.

"Really?"

"But assuming you do meet him, he's really not an interesting person. He also has no proper etiquette. All he'll do is leave you with an unpleasant experience."

"Well, that's acceptable; I'm rather lenient with that. I don't expect the different people of this world to adopt a similar behaviour. You can't chat in the same language with your dragon after years of tending to its needs, can you?”

Orba made an effort to prevent his feelings of discomfort from showing on his face. The incident with Hou Ran suddenly weighed on his mind. He thought it was about time the girl who told him of the dragon’s ‘voice’ suddenly intruded into their conversation, but she was no where to be found.

While everyone was having a pleasant chat, Baton took the opportunity to leave his seat. Orba noticed that his eyes darted around restlessly as he was walked, as if he was searching for someone.

In between the mansion and on the other end of the garden was an established cell. Within it was a child Baian. Its length was roughly two metres. Since some time back, the dragon had been lowering its head and incessantly sticking its forked tongue in and out, hissing menacingly at Romus who stood before the cage.

He kept his distance for a while, eyeing the Baian in horror, but braced himself and, holding a bundle of meat from the garden in his hand, approached the dragon. With legs nearing full development and claws as sharp as a sword, it could hardly be called a baby dragon.

Romus quickly tossed the meat. However, it landed directly in front of the cage. Romus approached no further, trying his best in an attempt to kick it in.

Gawrr, the dragon roared, as it violently rammed its head against the cage. Baton fell backwards and frantically tried to scurry away. The Baian stuck its long tongue through the gap and slipped the food into its mouth.

"You...!"

The young Romus lost his temper. "You, you, you, you, you!" He took a three-pronged spear leaning beside the cage into his hand. It was a tool for use against dragons. The ends were blunted, so that it could be shoved in between the cage bars without wounding the dragon, but Romus brandished the weapon as if he were about to slay his foe and gave a thrust to the dragon's head.

The dragon shook its head as it gave out loud wails. He thrust a second time, and on the third, he struck near the eye. He pursued the overwrought, retreating dragon with deep thrusts. As he was doing so, his hand was suddenly grabbed from the side, startling Romus.

It was Hou Ran. The hand flung him to the side. Romus once again lay on his bottom, as the roars of the dragon reverberated with the force of a cannon in his ear. Using its rearfoot to stand, the dragon proceeded to bare its fangs as it clung to the cage. Romus' face lost colour. He was thrown off his guard, and the dragon continued to draw closer, surely planning to attack him in one fell swoop.

"Be careful," Ran spoke.

For a moment, Romus wasn't sure if she was speaking to him or the dragon. Then the girl stretched her hand through the cage and gently stroked the Baian's throat.

He watched in amazement as the Baian, who didn't listen to anything until just recently, emitted a gentle groan, stopped standing on its rear feet, and lowered its head. Hou Ran bent down and caressed its forehead.

"Come."

Ran extended her other hand and called Romus over. Partially pale hair could be seen on her dark skin. Committing this mysterious figure to heart, he nervously brought himself closer.

"Are you scared of the dragon?"

"I-I'm not scared. I mean, he could attack you even like this."

"Because you're afraid of the dragon, the dragon is also afraid of you."

"Eh?"

Romus winced, not because of the unexpected remark, but because she grasped his hand and brought it in the direction of the cage.

"Baby dragons especially, have hearts like a mirror. It reflects your own heart. Look into its eyes and feel it."

He took a breath, and gazed into the dragon's glassy eyes. Of course, he couldn't perceive any of its emotions. But for some reason, he never let go of Hou Ran's hand, and he slowly, steadily brought himself closer to the dragon's scales—and touched it.

He shrank back his shoulders and back, two, and then three times. It wasn't that he was scared. In those parts, he could feel a hot sensation transmitted there, and most prominent was an impact as if he received several blows to the forehead.

When he realized what it was, he broke into tears, as Ran hugged his back.

"You’re a strong child," Ran whispered into his ear. "And there is potential in you. You heard its 'voice', right? You don't have to be afraid of the dragon anymore. But you also shouldn't show your back too often. Dragons and humans are different; the way they tie a trusting relationship, the way they talk, the way they spend their time, and the way they get happy. You should spend some time understanding it."

"Well isn't this a sight for sore eyes."

The joke came as Baton Cadmos revealed himself. Romus, ashamed of his crying, quickly stood up and wiped his eyes. Baton approached in long strides and stopped in front of Hou Ran.

"You say you were in an all-male slave detention camp? Just what were you doing there? Did you help the men relieve them of their boredom?"

Hou Ran stared back at him, unimpressed. Baton licked his lips, like a prey stalking a predator.

"You aren't too bad."

"Really."

"A woman like you that stinks of dragon dung once in a while isn't bad at all. Even if you're a part of the Imperial Guards, you must be bored, right? You should work in my mansion. I'll make it a 'good' experience. Way better than those crude sword slaves or uselessly large dragons could ever give you."

Hou Ran was about to say something, when she suddenly glanced over. Leaning against the wall over Baton's shoulders was Orba, staring straight at her. In response, Ran faced the young noble, her lips creviced to reveal a stunning smile.

"I like strong men."

"That's right. And I have power," Baton grinned widely. "Enough to keep you."

"That's not good enough. You'll have to at least show me your strength, like this child did."

Ran pointed her hand towards Romus, and then to the Baian within the cage. "Ha," Baton sneered.

"Are dragons all the standard for you people of the Ryuujin Faith? If that kid can do it, there's no way I can't. I even brought down a Baian in last year's dragon hunting. A baby dragon like this is nothing."

With a crank of his shoulders, Baton stepped up to the Baian and touched its lowered head. Baton gave a triumphant smile and turned back around, not noticing how Hou Ran's gaze went through him, and focused on the dragon.

A string of saliva hung from the Baian's mouth, when it opened and gave a roar before it stood up.

"W-Waahhh!"

The startled Baton jumped back. The dragon fervently swung its claws out between the bars of the cage. Baton scrambled away, severely banging his hip in the process, not stopping until he was sure to have reached a safe place. His face was completely pale.

"That's too bad."

With a thin smile, Hou Ran flung back her hair and turned around, to give a despising glare at the figure. She came up to Orba. Before he could call out to her, she beat him to it.

"You were testing me."

She stomped on his feet. Orba jumped up from the unexpected assault.

"You were watching what I was doing. You knew it wasn't your place. And still you thought to bring our friendship closer. So you tested me."

"W-wait up. Hey, Hou Ran..."

It was exactly as she said, but Orba never imagined it would make her this mad. In a way, he understood less about a girl's feelings than of the dragons' 'voice'.

===Part 3===
Dinn used the time while the prince had gone out to thoroughly clean up the room. Doing so alone would have been too heavy a labour, so he spoke with the grand chamberlain and acquired help from several others. It wasn't unusual for several people to be tasked to look after a member of the imperial family. The one who arranged for Dinn alone to be entrusted with the duty was none other than Fedom, for fear that Orba's true colours would be brought to light. The official reason was because the hot-tempered prince could trust no other chamberlain except Dinn.

In any case, he was finished shortly after noon. The other chamberlains took their leave, and as he let out a sigh of relief, the bell announcing visitors rang. The soldiers acting as the room bodyguards had rung it.

Somehow, Dinn had a bad feeling about this.

"Did something bad happen?"

Ineli stealthily whispered in his ear, pointing to Baton, who was clearly in a bad mood. Her playful expression annoyed Orba.

"He failed to make a pass on a girl. Leave him be."

He answered, more or less now used to it. Ineli giggled, and taking Orba's hand, joined it around her surprisingly slender arms. It was a rather skillful play, and then Orba felt her call out to the side,

"What are you going to do now, Baton? If you want to go back and weep, I won't be stopping you."

"Don't kid around. There's a place I want to check out. It's a well-known store that even the prince would happily approve of."

It was a given that Orba had no way of knowing, but for Baton, this would be the day's main event.

The horses were left in the Saian residence, and Baton was the first to take the lead and begin walking.

The southwestern district was divided by the Sazan River from the area of the palace and nobles' residence. Once they treaded on the Town District, they made a few turns here and there, and separated from the main road. There was a smell of garbage waste, prompting Ineli to hold her nose. The other boys also exchanged worried looks.

"Are you sure this is the right place, Baton?"

Even Troa, who should have been aware of the plan, worriedly asked this. Baton snorted.

''They were raised as the sons of well-off families after all.''

It was unlikely that nobles would set foot into this sort of place in the absence of bodyguards. But to Baton, it was a familiar sight. Sick of his usual days of boredom, he would often frequent such places. It was a part of his own ventures to seek out thrills.

"Hey, hold up."

Several poorly dressed men came from the direction of the voice and approached them. One of them whistled.

"Well aren't you a group of rather well-dressed young masters."

"It's dangerous here ya know, because there's a whole bunch of bad people around. They'll quickly strip you of your belongings."

"Because we're nice people, we'll help you guys out of here, so if you'd offer us something of value, that'll make us ''really'' happy."

They were dressed in dregs, giving off the appearance of thugs, but all of them were acquaintances of Baton.

They conferred the financially well off Baton the position of leader, and often hung out in 'groups' around these parts. At times, they would go as far as to simulate blackmailings and stealings.

"Don't screw with me," Baton got fired up, according to plan. "As if we would even give the least bit of money to get past guys like you. You guys that don't know your place, scram!"

"What was that?!"

The person in front spat out saliva and then drew a dagger from his back.

Ineli shrank back as she instinctively let out a scream. Baton casually pat her on the back, "It's an act," he told in a small voice. He continued,

"How shall we go about this..."

He stared at the seemingly dumbfounded prince. The prince had been silent the whole time. Baton held the contemptuous thought that he was left shaking in his boots at a lost for words.

''He succeeded with his first campaign, they say? And just what can this spoiled prince do in such a kill-on-sight situation?''

For a while now, the two may have held a relationship where they would gallivant about together, but within Baton's heart, he had looked down on the prince this whole time. He felt himself a far more capable man. But now that prince was hailed as a hero. For this reason, he wanted to make a fool out of him in public. He wanted to make them see the prince's abilities in a new light.

There was no way for Baton to know, of course, the feelings that Gil—Orba was harbouring at the time. Because he would never imagine that Gil had switched places with a former gladiator, it also wasn't too much of a stretch that Orba held a strange feeling of nostalgia.

''The fixed smell, alleyways, threatened extortion by pointing blades, and the stealing—''

These were all the only things he experienced as a child. In the few years after the time Oubary had burned down his village until he was made to become a gladiator, he had lived sipping the muddy waters from the worst parts of town.

Before his eyes, he saw a great many men brandishing their daggers.

"Now, what's the matter? If your mouths aren't working, then how about I force it open for you."

The boy pointed his dagger at Orba's mouth. Orba didn't turn away, carefully looking past the blade and observing his opponents. They numbered four. All of them most likely carried weapons. He wore a pistol and dagger on his back. If he could seize a chance, he was fully confident he could beat them, but he couldn't afford to do it too skilfully in the presence of Ineli and the others.

''Now then—''

As Orba thought of a prince-like behaviour that might get them out of this situation, Baton suddenly reached out his hand and knocked away the dagger in front of the prince's mouth.

"You shouldn't go too far with your pranks, or you'll be in for a world of pain," Baton said with a triumphant air.

He was already satisfied, having been able to make a show of the prince's worthlessness in front of his best friends.

"We are Mephian nobility. If you so much as inflict a wound on us, you lot would be hung in the blink of an eye. We'll overlook this. Now scram!"

That was the arranged key phrase, but the opposing men showed not even the smallest indication of being daunted; they were smirking. And to make matters worse,

"Oh? Nobility you say."

Startled, Baton turned around to face the voice that called out. There were another three men drawing closer, dressed in rags just like the others. But he had no recollection assigning them as cast in this play.

"Now that I look more closely, I'd say you're the real thing. We heard your little chat and couldn't help to think what awfully mighty things you said."

"Well isn't this a bigger catch than I imagined."

"You bastards!" Baton let out in a low voice. He was well aware of the colour draining from his face. They had went along with Baton's proposed plan and laid a trap on their end.

"W-what are you going to do? If it's money you really want, I'll be sure to later..."

"We don't need your loose change, Cadmos boy. With this many hostages, they wouldn't mind if we demanded even more money, right?"

Ineli once again gave another shrill scream; one of the thugs had laid his hands on her dress.

"Those're some nice ''garbs'' yer wearin'. I wanna bring 'em home to my daughter."

"L-let go! You low-life, get your filthy hands off me!"

Ineli slapped his cheek. It was a reflexive action that tensed the situation.

"This wench."

"Who's the real filthy one, you damn Mephian nobles. Do it."

"W-wait! Wait I tell you!"

Baton shouted, as Ineli's legs gave way. With a frantic expression,

"T-The one over here is Mephius' crown prince. You should get that there's no way you'll get away with it..."

"The prince, you say?"

A joyous countenance flashed across their faces contrary to Baton's expectations, but one of them directed eyes full of hatred on their 'guest'. He was the oldest man in the group.

"Prince Mephius! Who would have thought I would be able to meet him here. He is the bane of Layla, and the one person I mustn't let escape."

Again, the same man acted alone and drew his sword. The drawn sword left the young nobles speechless and frozen stiff, as one of them thought,

''Layla?''

Upon hearing the name for the first time, he committed her connection with these men to memory.

"First, let's have you hand over that gun. Actually, stay right there. I'll take it."

As per the instructions of the man who first drew his sword, Orba reached his hands towards his back.

The time that seemingly stood still continued to flow. Orba quickly reached towards the other half of his body and drew the gun from his back. "Wait," as his fellow thugs called out, Orba swiftly pulled the trigger quickly.

Having been shot on the midfoot, the man fainted in agony. Orba didn't hesitate. In a situation where the enemies numbered many, missing a chance to strike the first blow was fatal.

"You asshole!"

"Long as he's alive, I don't give a damn! The gun, slice his whole arm off!"

He nimbly dodged the man that slashed at him from behind.

"Run!" Orba shouted. He practically kicked Baton from behind, pushing him towards the side. They didn't need any more prompting, and as the other thugs gave chase to the boys, they were met with another round of bullets. They toppled sideways as blood gushed out of their bodies.

"Now you've done it!"

The remaining men all rushed towards Orba. They were at point-blank range, and Orba, deeming that the pistol couldn't properly be handled at point-blank, kicked the knee of the man in front, snatching the short sword from his hands. Twice, thrice he repelled the pouring onslaught of daggers.

A colour of surprise and impatience hung on the dirt-covered mens' faces. They had agreed to kidnap the younger nobles, and had more or less resolved themselves, but having let everyone escape, the nobles would surely come back and rain retribution down on them.

"This brat!"

With unexpected skill, he slashed downwards, diagonally across the shoulders of a stumbling man. "Surround him!" and the instant Orba heard the bellow, jumped back to the rear. He blocked the pursuing blade using the katana grasped in his right hand to perform an upwards sweeping motion, and with the dagger strapped to his back, stabbed the man in the chest with his left.

If he were to diminish their numbers, then their chances of success would drastically decrease. He whirled the sword on his right in arcs, and the foes continued to fall amidst the clattering, until only a single man was left. He was the man who had cried out 'bane of Layla'.

"Y-You-You bastard!!"

He gripped his blade, ready to strike. The man's stubble-covered face trembled in its entirety, as he glared at Orba. But it wasn't Orba he hated. It was a person possessing the same appearance as he, whom the man detested.

Just as he was about to attack, Orba fired a shot near his feet. "Hiiii," the man jumped, and collapsed on his bottom.

"Who is Layla?" Orba asked, as he established his aim.

"D-Don't play dumb! I won't let you say you forgot you did to Layla."

"Say it." He thrust the muzzle up his chin, "Who is Layla? And what do you mean by getting revenge?"

Quite some time passed, as Orba caught up with Ineli and the others along the bank of Sazan River.

"B-Brother."

Ineli gazed at Orba as if she was seeing a dead one come back to life. Orba collapsed onto the floor on the spot, pretending to have barely escaped from a near-death situation."

"Are you ok?"

"B-Barely. You guys, wasn't it a bit too much to run away and leave me behind like that?"

"That's....Your Highness himself was the one who said to run," one of the boys said, but Orba made a face as if he didn't remember it at all.

In the end, after it was clear that everyone had made it out safely, Ineli's expression turned into one that completely relished in the thrill, and returned to her usual self.

"I would have never thought you would suddenly just shoot."

"It was really sudden for me too, and I don't really remember it all that well."

"Hey, Your Highness? Don't get too mad after hearing about it, okay? All of this was...."

"Ine-Princess Ineli." Baton coughed violently to interrupt Ineli. "Please keep the information regarding that matter c-c-confidential."

Even though Ineli was short of breath, she floated a smile across her face. Orba could somewhat guess what it was about, but kept his mouth shut. Ineli planned to, under the leverage of the 'secret', toy with Baton to the utmost.

''At any rate.''

The matter regarding the aforementioned 'Layla' weighed on Orba's mind. According to what he heard from the man he threatened, Gil Mephius had exercised the privilege exclusive to the imperial family, 'right to the first night', on a local bride. That was Layla. Her father was an officer of the Imperial Guards directly under the control of the emperor, but following the incident, he explained to the relatives and close friends invited to the wedding.

"It is the prince's usual dalliance. Nothing will happen," he explained.

No one was convinced. But this staked on his daughter’s honour, and the imperial officer made them swear to never reveal this matter to others. After that, they never saw the father and daughter again. Their mansion in the city of Solon had also, at one point, been sold off. Rumours spread of how they had been killed to silence them, and before long, talk of this matter ceased.

The man Orba questioned was also a distant relative of Layla.

In constant fear of when an assassin might come, he had lost all will to work, and went as far as to perform the activities of a night thief that he held himself in contempt for. He loathed the Mephian nobles and most of all, Gil Mephius.

"I understand now."

Once he had finished hearing everything, Orba set down his gun. He departed, leaving the fallen men lying in the pools of blood.

''Rone Jayce.''

An officer of the Imperial Guards. This was worth investigating. The disturbance of the 'right of first night' occurred just before Orba was made into Gil's body double. Moreover, Gil shared a bed with Layla in a barroom, when the man witnessed none other than Fedom running into the room.

''What happened there…?''

On the way back, under the swaying of the horse, Orba was lost in thought.

"Your Highness," Ineli reached over from behind and gently prodded Orba, signalling the sun was already setting.

"Lord Zaat is here."

"Ah," Orba unintentionally let out. Emerging from the store along with several men armed with swords acting as bodyguards was a man clad in what could easily be identified as clothing for a noble, and Oubary Bilan. These two stopped moving, seeming to have noticed the prince.

"If this isn't the prince. What an unusual place to have met you. I take it you are in good health."

Oubary's thin, spread, purple lips broke to form a smile. Just seeing his face was enough for Orba to feel his body heat up, and he was only able to respond with a light nod. And the other person was:

''Zaat Quark.''

With the portraits Dinn had laid out, he was able to roughly remember the faces of the leading nobles. He was a member of the Founding Imperial Council. The House of Quark had been around since the founding of Mephius, and remained a distinguished family in the successive generations. While gazing at Orba with a grand demeanour and eyes filled with vigour, he opened his mouth.

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v02 057.jpg|thumb]]
"Congratulations on your first successful campaign.....A month has already passed since then, as I now remember at this late hour, but I regret to inform you that I have not had a chance to visit you since then. His Imperial Majesty has also been left worried. How about you show him your face tomorrow, if not earlier?"

"Oh, okay."

"If the other nobles were to see that the prince, who is supposed to be laying in bed ill, is playing around in such a place, there will be no stopping them from speaking ill of you. Mephius is more or less on the verge of rebellion. As you are an important prince, do take care."

He indeed spoke with a refined demeanour and yet gentle tone, notwithstanding the piercing glint in his eyes. Zaat was not one of the twelve generals, but carried the vestiges of the House of Quark that once held dominion over the position. Compared to genuine military commanders like Rogue or Oubary, he held few soldiers and should not have personally stood in a battlefield before. But those eyes just now were exactly the kind that intently fixed themselves on the enemy.

''So...he's the head of the anti-imperial faction?''

He hadn't received this information from Dinn, but remembered Fedom mentioning it at one point. Zaat appeared to be the most opposed to Kaiser Islan's imprisonment. Would the prince have faltered from this? As Orba held this thought, it was suddenly cut short.

"Well then, please excuse me."

After courteously leaving his message, he departed with Oubary. Orba stared at the form of the two men boarding the coach that had been waiting in front of the store, or more exactly, at Oubary alone.

''One day,'' Orba swore in his mind.

''One day I'll burn you to death. That's right, 'one day'. Not now. I'm not so nice as to just kill you now.''

"It's better to not worry about it, brother."

Ineli took Gil's lapse of silence to mean he had fallen depressed over the indirect reprehension of their idling. She smiled while patting him on the back.

"Still, what a strange combination," one of the boys cocked his head. "I've never seen the two of them get along so well together until now."

"Whatever. Let's just hurry and go back. We'll be sorry to receive the fussings of another important person.''

Or so Baton said, but even now, his face paled. It was obvious to everyone he was terrified of what other troubles he might find himself caught up in.

''What a weird day.''

Orba thought as he walked through the palace passage.

A lot of things happened, but at present, the prince's closest of friends had yet to suspect his true colours. It could be considered his first of steps. It was absolutely necessary to obtain all the rights and privileges the prince held, and to do so, he needed to be able to put up with the various worthless happenings.

Be that as it may, the unaccustomed battles had left him exhausted, body and mind.

"Dinn," he called out to the page once he had opened the door. "I won't be needing a bath or a meal today."

"And you also won't be—"

"Prince."

Orba noticed Dinn wore an expression of discomfort. The prince's room was a continuation of three rooms, and the first door that was opened led to a small room where chairs and a counter were arranged to let a waiting visitor settle in.

In there, the shadow of a figure could be seen sitting in moody silence. With a single glance, Orba's fatigue had somewhat left him. It was Garbera's third princess, Vileena. With her rich, silver hair hanging on her back, the dignified beauty looked up directly at Orba.

"I welcome you back, Your Highness the Crown Prince, Gil." "

"Y, Yeah."

"Pray tell me, where did you head off to?"

"Well, that is—oh, I was invited to the general's house."

"You ''certainly'' seem to be in good health."

''Each and every one of them says the exact same thing.''

Such a thought crossed his head. He planned to restrain the feeling, but it must have showed on his face.

"Did I perhaps say something odd? I am an unaccustomed guest in Mephius after all. I am not privy to the culture and humour of this country. That is to say, I’d like for us to come to an immediate understanding, or at the very least, for you to firmly answer me."

"What are you trying to say?" Orba angrily glared at the girl two years younger than him. "This isn't very princess-like. If there's something you want to say, then say it frankly."

"Is that so. Then, let's be frank. Prince, are you aware of the matter regarding Kaiser Islan?"

"Yes."

"Is ''yes'' all you have to say?" her starry-eyed pupils widened.

"Like I said, what are you trying to say? Just state your business."

"That's already enough."

With a red face, Vileena got up from her seat. Orba wanted to lie down and rest, if even a second earlier, but this attitude only served to stoke his ire.

"What do you mean ''that's enough''? I haven't heard anything yet."

"I wondered if you had collapsed due to the illness, to find you roaming about until this late. If you were agonizing over this country's future, you must have at least given it some thought; from the looks of it, the issue hasn't weighed on your mind the least bit. No matter what I tell you, it would be pointless."

"You have some nerve, discreetly criticizing others you hardly know on nothing but speculation."

He had just managed to keep up a mask of appearances in front of the group of close friends, and somehow, before this fourteen year old princess, it had crumbled away to dust. Most likely, the princess said the one thing that shouldn't be said.

"There are things a child cannot understand. Before you go meddling in people's business, how about you first go and grow up, princess?"

"I most certainly will!"

In an instant, Vileena stood up with great force, and faster than Dinn could let out an 'Ah', pressed towards Orba. Thinking the force would be transmitted through an open palm, Orba reflexively pressed his back against the wall.

"Good day!"

Leaving those sharp words, Vileena ''stomped'' her way out of the room in a manner unbefitting a princess.

Orba loosened his back, as he slumped down against the wall.

''First Ran, and now this princess.''

"I'm also to blame," Dinn said with a bit too sad of a look.

"When the princess came in the afternoon, I explained to her that you had gone out with your friends."

"Then what time will he be returning?" the princess had asked. Thinking it would be bad if the prince took too long to play around, Dinn gave the insubstantial response of, "He'll be back immediately."

"I had repeatedly told her, 'Once he comes back, I would immediately contact them', but she continued to wait in this manner...."

It was afternoon, and then it was already four, and now had passed 5 o'clock. Orba let out a long sigh.

''There's no time to rest, for as long as I deceive this whole country. Damnit, I let my guard down."

There was no doubt Vileena would once again become a threat in Orba's continued battle to fake his current position. Of course, because this was Orba, he had failed to notice even the slightest that Vileena Owell's dress was more daring than usual.
<noinclude>

==Translator's Notes and References==
<references/>

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| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume2_Illustrations|Illustrations]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume2_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
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</noinclude>

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume2 Chapter1

2022-07-20T21:32:41Z

98.113.91.34:

==Chapter 1: Endless Battle==
=== Part 1 ===
Upon finding that Kaiser had been imprisoned, Fedom Aulin jumped up. Kaiser Islan was a noble who once served as a member of the Imperial council.

One week earlier. In a morning council, Mephius' emperor, Guhl Mephius, proposed the relocation of the Dragon God shrine accompanied by a large-scale reconstruction. The shrine, built 200 years ago to worship the Dragon God, has always been in the basement under the imperial capital Solon's renowned Black Tower. It would now be moved towards the vicinity of the palace, and made into a marvellous structure.

Of the sudden comments, some of the nobles graciously offered flattery, but Kaiser alone had directly expressed his feelings of opposition. The amount of gold and people required made it far from precedent. Now was the time to fix the relations between Mephius, Garbera, and Ende, though of course, the circumstances weren't ones that provided for the highest of prospects. To start with, in the festivals dedicated to the Dragon God that were already held several times a year, practically none of the people even showed up; in other words it had become a thing of the past.

"There should be more critical issues at hand. Forgive my insolence, but please reconsider."

"Is that so," was all the emperor said. And then the talk was over.

Kaiser was well into his mid-fifties, and held a long standing relation with the current emperor. Like that, no one paid the squabble another thought.

But, five days later, Kaiser, through an open evening party held at his residence, newly reproached the king's political measures. "Recently, his majesty passes over whatever he says without warning," he drunkenly grieved to the close friends he had invited over.

Normally, this would not have warranted any special course of action, but this time the emperor entered into a fit of rage for some unknown reason and declared, "Those are the thoughts of a rebel!" All of a sudden, troops surrounded Kaiser's residence, and they arrested him. "I'm acting without notice"<ref>The king's retort, imitating the statement Kaiser blurted out that led to his arrest</ref>—and, Kaiser's own actions had unexpectedly become evidence against him.

Unease soon spread within Solon as doubts were raised, questioning whether his majesty planned to execute Kaiser. Three days and nights passed. Kaiser was placed underground, in a prison unfit for a noble, and forbidden even a single meeting with his family.

Fedom had jumped, in response to being struck by a seeming mixture of shock and dread—because he had also personally voiced his opinion to the king having seen an opportunity to hasten peace negotiations with Garbera—and there was something else; something completely different. His chest filled with a feeling of delight bordering excitement.

''It might be my turn at last.''

Emperor Guhl Mephius would once more put his plan of strengthening his own authority into action, and in the process earn the hostility of his surroundings. That was when Fedom would put his own plan into practice, and the testimony of that day drew near. The foundation of a new political power, one in support of Prince Gil, would be formed within the empire.

It was a large ambition. Were the feelings within him the same that Kaiser held? No, it was a fact that he held stern eyes from this point on that made it impossible to detect even a glimmer of his emotions. And it was only this that prompted him to call out.

"Lord Fedom."

Down the Main Palace's hallway, as Zaat Quark greeted him, Fedom thought to himself, ''I met a troublesome fellow.''

"Have you heard of Lord Kaiser's circumstances?"

"Immediately so."

"Just what is his majesty planning? This has gone too far for a joke! You must tell me your thoughts. I will take it with me to my grave."

Zaat was relentless, and Fedom evasively answered befittingly. Zaat Quark was head of the so-called anti-imperial faction. Of course, it wasn’t as if he walked around with a sign hanging on him stating who he was. Like Fedom, he followed a similar train of thought, and in remonstration before the emperor who was so insistent on fighting to the bitter end, helped in convincing him to promote peace negotiations. He also held a position as a member of the Founding Imperial Council, and it was clearly evident that he in no way harboured positive sentiments towards the emperor who had reduced the Imperial Council to one in name only.

In this sense, Zaat considered Fedom as a comrade. Or at least, he ''should'' have.

"There has not been too many aggravated situations, but there is bound to be a backlash. For this reason, we are to spread idle chatter of his intentions with this 'joke', which will instead become truth. This is a secretive matter. You know fully well of the king's temperament."

"How are you so calm? This is treason against the emperor! And did you know? Just the other day, the king met with a messenger from Ende and—"

"Pardon me. I have some matters to attend to."

"Lord Fedom," Zaat knitted his deep black eyebrows, "This isn't like you. Worrying over the country's future in earnest to this extent, you're even prepared to face his majesty's judgment! Surely, the affair regarding Lord Kaiser hasn't left you losing your wits."

"Mind your words, milord." Fedom fixed a sharp glare at Zaat. Age-wise, Fedom was 10 years older.

"How rude of me. But lately, you've been acting strange." ''Strange'', probably referred to how he was recently sticking to Prince Gil Mephius all the time. Leaving the still insistent Zaat, Fedom hurried along. For Fedom who should have been on the very same anti-imperial faction, there was no other way but for him to seemingly change his allegiance."

''That damned Zaat, curses! Making a face as if he knows everything. He plans to test me, eh?''

To start with, Fedom never held any good will towards Zaat. There were plenty of competent intellectuals around, but for Fedom's knowledge alone, many of powerful men had clearly come to him for favours. In the case of the peace talks, after unfastening a historical document, "That country's precedent was so and so", "According to former traditions, this and that should be done," he one by one brought out old information that left the others rather dumbfounded.

''To be treated as a coward of all things!''

Far from it, Fedom had crossed a far more dangerous line in voicing his concerns to the emperor than Zaat ever had. In terms of risks alone, his plan was immeasurably more dangerous. And this plan was finally about to enter the stage where it could be implemented. He was dazzled by the thought.

"What's wrong?" Orba asked, staring at Fedom as he gave off a creepy expression.

"You suddenly went quiet, and your complexion turned blue, then red. You seem ''very'' sick."

"Shut your mouth!" Fedom cursed in embarrassment. They were in the prince's room within the Main Palace. Just in case, he had pretended to bring along a get-well present, though Fedom continued to behaved rudely regardless.

"That aside, what's with you? I drop by this once to find you haven't made a speck of progress! You don't have all the time in the world. Dinn, how do you explain this sorry state?!"

Precisely because the final time drew nearer, he could not be impatient with Prince Gil's ''education'' to guarantee success. He aimed the brunt of his frustrations towards Dinn, the page in charge of this education.

"I can't believe this," Gil Mephius grumbled.

Fedom left immediately after he had finished speaking his mind. Gil gave a big yawn, having read through all of the Mephian history books spread out on the table without rest until a short while ago.

"It's as if I was a new sword-slave about to enter the fray in the arena for the first time all over again. Though those guys generally don't get a chance to appear a second time."

"In any case, Fedom-sama was right to scold you," Dinn said as he removed the tea leaves from the newly brewed tea. "If you would only try harder. Then you could take on the prince's appearance in public without putting him to shame, and yet, at this rate two, three, even ten years wouldn't be enough."

"Table manners, the study of Mephian culture, memorizing the names of successive generations of emperors and their accomplishments by heart, and spending one hour a day standing in front of a mirror correcting my posture and smile; these are things I might not use my whole life. What's the point in continuing this?"

"All of it is necessary."

"I'm fed up with learning the faces and names of those old geezers. Anyway, bring the military documents over. You can place them next to those records of recent battles."

He laid down on the couch, whilst pretending not to hear Dinn's reproaches. Just now, Fedom seemed to be irritated for some reason, but for Gil—the gladiator Orba, also formerly known as the Iron Tiger—his pent up emotions were no smaller in size than Fedom's.

He had been picked up by Fedom to act as a body double, but Orba never had any intention of doing only as he was told since the beginning. Even if he had to make use of this position, he would accomplish his goal:

To get revenge on the people that took everything from him. And to search for all the things he had lost.

He had finally reached the point where, with his own hands, he could bring himself closer to the many goals he held that couldn't be granted with the status of sword-slave. But the situation had reached a stand-still.

"Today, another twenty meeting requests had to be turned down. It is Rodloom-sama's fifth time by request of Ineli-sama and for Baton-sama—if you remember his name, he is one of the prince's best friends—he has come twice. One month of valuable time has already passed since your first campaign, and it will only seem more and more unusual."

For this one month, Fedom had confined Orba within the prince's room. Under the pretext that the mental strain from his first campaign and sudden change in environment over the several days had caused his physical condition to crumble, he was not allowed to participate in official business and was prohibited from personally meeting with the large number of people who sought to get closer to him. During this time, he devoted himself to Orba's education in making him more prince-like, no matter how little, as part of his plan.

Naturally, within that month, Orba built up his knowledge, and mastered manners. He was forced to endlessly repeat these activities. Unable to search for his mother, brother, and Alice's whereabouts, he spent his time on meaningless extravagance that only served to test his patience to its limits.

"Because Fedom-sama is not aware of the current situation here, he's convinced that he settled everything with the words ‘Refuse the meetings,’ but he really needs to put himself in the shoes of the one refusing. Everyone had finally started to see the prince in a new light after his first campaign, and now this happens," Dinn grumbled his complaints, but suddenly faltered.

"Are you a ''fool''?" Orba interrupted. "If I'm still struck with horror from my first campaign, they’ll wonder what that heroic prince was doing when the battle took place, and then they’ll find he didn’t abide by the decree to go into battle, only to be shaking in his boots."

"W-Would you like to go for a stroll?"

"That was something I just thought up. Isn't it fine? The former prince was this kind of person. This would clear us of suspicions instead."

''The problem is,''

While joking around, Orba thought of another matter. When Fedom had come just moments ago, there was something he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

''of the two, which is the real 'fool'''

A body double would normally only act the role during essential times. There should be no need to set up a double, especially when the palace situation was normal. Fedom had subsequently claimed it was because there was a risk of assassination even in the capital city of Solon, which should have been a sufficient explanation, but Orba obviously didn't buy it.

And also,

When the battle at Zaim Fortress had ended, Fedom accidentally let slip that no one else knew of the fact the prince had been substituted for a body double. On that account, Fedom might be the only one involved in this plan he set up. If that were to be true, even Orba—who was beside death's door during his two years as a sword-slave—couldn't possibly have shaken off that overwhelmingly chilling sensation..

No one else knowing would imply that Fedom was deceiving all of the Mephians, himself excluded. Orba also, under no condition, could allow himself to rest. This was a matter his life counted on.

"Mephius' founding festival is approaching. It is a festival that gathers the whole country together. If you do not make an appearance here, things will take a bad turn. Just how long will Fedom-sama..."

At that moment, the bell was rung. Dinn responded by leaving. Beyond the door, a voice could be heard from a small room facing the corridor. It sounded like Ineli. Immediately after Emperor Guhl had lost his wife, he married a second wife and her daughter, Ineli, had become Gil's younger stepsister.

Once the heated discussion ended, Dinn returned. He gave off a face of total exhaustion.

"That person ranks as the most difficult."

"What happened?"

"The usual 'Let's go hang out' invitation from your close friends and 'Instead of being holed up in that room with that of weak body his, he needs some recreational activity' remark."

"I see," Orba said, somewhat occupied with other thoughts. "Back then, what did Gowen say to you?"

"Eh? Oh, he asked whether we could go together to General Saian's residence after receiving his invitation."

"Then let's head over to where Ineli and the group is. I’ll take care of these two engagements in one go. Pass the message to her for me."

"But Fedom-sama said..."

"It's better if I learn some faces up close . Lets go with this ruse: the prince is left with a nasty temper due to his bad shape. No one will think much of it if he acts a little differently, especially if it's within his own home. If it's just for a bit, it'll work."

Orba by no means had any intentions of becoming the same as the flustered Dinn. He refused to take no action. No matter how big, essentially, this one room was no different from a prison, and felt himself crushed with impatience and insecurities as he passed days on end.

''This also counts as a battle. Completely becoming the prince will bring me one step closer in searching for Alice and my family,'' he murmured to persuade himself.

And within Solon was one other person unable to dispel her growing irritation.

"How about this dress? How does it compare to the previous white and vivid one? Aah, but I wonder if the second dress might be better since it is a Mephian one. But then the tiara I brought from my own country won't match. I'll have to ask the maids here, and show my appreciation later."

"Uh huh."

In a room lying deep within the women's chamber, compared to the briskly bustling Theresia, Vileena offered not even the slightest of movements. As a guest from Garbera, the fourteen year-old princess played around with the dresses and tried on multiple ornaments. Upon witnessing this sight, even the enemies of her parents would scowl at their own reflected appearance.

"Honestly, if it were the Garberan royal court, it wouldn't matter how famous the designer was. On sending out an official notice that a princess was in need of new provisions, a pile of dresses would appear in her room without waiting a week. To go out and playfully trample over them was what it meant to be a princess.”

"Right."

"Solon, being far from any sea trading base, has very little high quality cloth. Even though it's my first set of tailored clothes, if I had known three months ago that an advance order was necessary, I would have taken measures before the wedding."

"Is that so."

"If you were to become any more skilful at being dependent on others, you might not have a chance to get any closer to the empress, that is, your stepmother. You are fussing over a dress and tiara. To become a bride is to enter your partner's family. To become a harmonious couple, such endeavours are needed. ....Aah, but if I remember correctly, the current empress is the second wife. Because the prince is not her own son, she may not care much for his wife."

Yes, and Vileena's form once more stood across the mirror. Theresia glared at her, and before long decided to take a ''deep'' breath.

"Vileena-sama!!"

"Eek!"

With a startled jump, Vileena instantly came to a halt. "Shouting in a person's ear like that..."

"If I hadn't used this volume of voice, then the current princess would not have heard me," Theresia puffed up her chest. "The princess is choosing clothes to wear at the founding festival as if it is someone else's problem. Generally, when women pick their dress and any earrrings or bracelets that might match it even a little, they fidget around restlessly, unable to calm themselves down. Anticipating for their fated partner, or possibly realizing their insecurities, they indulge in their own worries while also having fun."

"On that matter, I have complete faith in you. If it is of your opinion."

"Oh my, I am humbly delighted to receive such a generous praise...and? What are you really thinking? Will you share with me? Are you thinking about how you haven't rode in an air carrier recently, or how you want to fly in the sky? Or if it's not riding that you want to do, then how you could maybe pass time doing maintenance, or how you miss the smell of oil. Ah! It must be about why the prince hasn't come to visit you."

"That last one was completely uncalled for!"

Vileena scowled, but could not conceal the smile on her mouth. Theresia had always been a formidable foe. In a straight battle of wits, she would immediately get caught in her pace. And then with a shrug,

"Well, since his return from his first campaign, he's shut himself in his room the whole time. The frail prince is somewhat like a princess."

"It has already been a month since, and he hasn't allowed anyone to see his face. For a maiden in love, it is a rather long time..."

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v02 025.jpg|thumb]]
"Anyhow!" Vileena forcefully interrupted, "I'm not hiding anything. I'm annoyed. How much longer will these awkward times continue? The scheduled day of the wedding has not been the least bit decided, and my range of activities has been restricted the entire time. I'll be frank. This is not the least bit fun!"

"Haaa."

On that assertion, Theresia had no clue on what to do. But she also planned to grasp the princess' words. Whether or not Garbera still held any influence on it, the marriage ceremony had been postponed indefinitely. There were considerably few places Vileena could freely roam, and day after day her growing irritation only worsened.

Originally, even within her Garberan homelands, she was an energetically active princess who would not be found in the same place within the same hour. Spending whole days living her life doing everything within a small portion of the women's chambers was something she completely could not agree with. She would occasionally show up for tea and dinner parties after receiving an invitation from the noblewomen, but would experience nothing but agony as she put on the guise of a smiling face.

"The prince too, appears to have entirely forgotten that his fiancée is here. But during times like these, isn't there also that? He could exchange letters and then pass the message on to the chamberlain, right?"

"It is often used in stories. Secretly accompanying the letter would be a love poem."

"Of course I would be mad if he doesn’t even tell me his intentions. And to add to the problems, there is unrest within Mephius no matter how you look at it. The emperor refuses to offer an explanation for his judgment of Islan, who appears to have been imprisoned. There would be nothing to gain from doing this in Garbera. His retainers, however, neither challenge nor protest against him, only taking sneak peeks at his countenance and taking care not to face his wrath."

''It is exactly as she says,'' Theresia thought in her head. She usually did not make such an understanding statement based on rumours alone, but Theresia had known her for a long time, and kept silent.

"If the retainers cannot give counsel due to fear, then the prince himself should act as an intermediary for the retainers. The emperor may find admonition disagreeable, but if it were Gil, his own son and successor, he should be willing to lend an ear."

"Truly."

"And yet, he has not outstripped his poor physical condition nor been cured of the illness he received from the front. If he cares about his country's future, he should even be crawling on his knees if need be. If it were my grandfather, he would hurl scoldings at him for not having enough guts.”

"Speaking of which, you want to have a meeting with the prince, right? If that's the case," Theresia said with a clap, "how should we go about the get-well present?"

"Get-well present?"

As a matter of fact, Theresia had been waiting for the right timing to broach the topic. There was no way Vileena hadn’t considered the thought, but it was hard for her to say upfront that she would personally go to see her fiancé, who had neglected her for so long.

"Come now, the princess was going to ensnare the prince right? To get him to fall madly in love with you, a certain degree of preparation will be needed. For this to happen, this Theresia whom you've fully placed your trust on will to the best of her abilities, make you Mephius' most beautiful woman!"

Theresia immediately began selecting clothes that would charm the impotent soon-to-be husband.

===Part 2===
"What do you think of His Highness Gil?"

"What do you mean?" Ineli tilted her head.

"You already know what I'm talking about," the one speaking said with a pout. He was Baton Cadmos.

"Even now I still can't believe it. For ''that'' crown prince Gil to achieve merits on his first campaign."

Saddled on their horses on the top of a hill, the youths waiting for Prince Gil neared their twenties and were all sons coming from families of distinguished nobles. Even though this was true, none of them held the right of the eldest son to succeed their family. Baton too, was the third son of the Cadmos House and had already turned 19, but spent everyday roaming about doing nothing.

The boys nodded in unison.

"That's true. Looks like there's quite a few rumours too."

"Rumours?"

"He was sent on his first campaign for the time being to be adorned with merits to appear more suitable as a successor, for one. After he won the battle, Oubary’s been complaining how he’s had it rough on his side "

"Isn't it a bit late? His Majesty the Emperor has already publicly denounced His Highness as ''useless'', you know."

"It's because it's now. The Mephius imperial family has no other appropriate male heir. If you were to be married and get a husband, then that would be a different story."

"Sorry about that," Ineli stuck out her tongue. "Well, the brother I know can't be connected to the one actively participating in the battlefield as I've heard."

"That's why, let's test it out," Baton said with a grin.

"Baton, whenever you get these thoughts nothing good comes out of it."

"It'll be fine. No one's going to get hurt. I just want to see how things play out. Will that prince who bravely took part in the battlefield maintain his composure or not when entangled with your neighbourhood thug."

"I guess," Ineli purposely opened her mouth in the shape of a zero.<ref>You could also think 本当 in Japanese or the word "whole"</ref> "Really, you have such a ''great'' personality, Lord Cadmos!"

"Shh! Here they come."

The guards accompanying Prince Gil Mephius came into view along the hill's ridgeline. Everyone courteously gave their salutations. "Ah," Gil slovenly nodded back. He looked partially pale. It was more than justified for one bedridden and bearing the mental fatigue from the battlefield.

"It has been a while, your Highness. Now then everyone, salute Mephius' new hero" Baton said jokingly, causing everyone laugh. Gil kept a stern expression void of any smiles. The guards were sent back, and Gil got on his horse.

Orba joined with everyone else and they slowly rode off. Not even thirty minutes ago back at the palace, the one who proposed they should go on horseback seemed to have been Ineli. "The weather finally turned nice too. Let's take a slight detour," she suggested. There were five other people accompanying her. According to the information Dinn had investigated beforehand, they were all sons of distinguished nobles, and had been acquainted with the prince since young.

For Orba, his first exposure to sunlight in a month felt great. The wind gently brushed across his face, and the fragrance that drifted from the palace flower gardens wasn't too bad either. But he never lowered his guard. While donning a scowl filled with displeasure, Orba carefully paid attention to their conversation. He needed to grasp their personalities and confirm what kind of power relation he held with them.

''This is also a battle.''

"Could you cheer up a bit?" Ineli popped up from behind and said with a smile. He was riding together with her. Her surprisingly slender arms wrapped around his waist.

"I really shouldn't have come." Orba averted her eyes. "I wanted to sleep for one more day."

"That won't do. If the prince had not received an invitation, then even we wouldn't be forced to meet with that boorish Rogue," The one who elatedly stuck out his tongue was Troa Hergei. The young boy stuck his head out from under the mounted horse, leaving it as something to be pitied.

In a bored tone, Baton Cadmos began, "What? Rogue's place again?

"That's right. Have you always had such a close relationship with him?"

"He supported me during my first campaign. He wouldn’t stop going on about how he wanted to tell me war stories, and how I should keep him company at least once."

"Oh? Support in battle, you say. No less expected of the future successor to the Mephius Empire, it seems that you cannot stay as the children that we are. Support and the like, with all due respect, those are unthinkable words you just spoke. Could it be that you've slowly outgrown those playful times with us?"

Only a year older than the prince—and consequently two years older than Orba---Baton talking while assuming an air of superiority was, frankly, a mood dampener. He held a prominent physique, but his speech and mannerisms clearly showed he was nothing more than a child at heart.

''That fuckin' scumbag of a noble.''

It wasn't only Baton, but all of the other boys looked down on Prince Gil as well. To be hanging out with such a company of friends would mean Gil was either brain-dead or had a very capable personality.

Before long, they commanded a view of the Black Sword that stood in the centre of Solon to their left, as thunder rang across the hillside, and they finally arrived at Rogue Saian's mansion.

Rogue opened the gates, and greeted everyone with a smile across his face.

"Oh, if it isn't the prince. I'm sorry for troubling you to come here. You're in good health, I hope. After all, the prince is still young. You eat to your heart's content to replenish your vigour, drink until your blood turns hot, and fend off all sorts of illnesses in a moment's notice."

The aged but hearty Rogue was already in the yard grilling meat, and laying out several types of wine. Before his arrival, Gowen exchanged grins with Orba in anticipation. Once the head supervisor, he now served as a commanding officer of the crown prince's Imperial Guards. They had hit it off in the previous campaign, as veterans of battle, and since then, had been on good terms.

"Oh?"

The neighbouring Hou Ran had caught Baton's attention. Her skin shone a brilliant ebony under the bask of the sun.

"If this race of people isn't a rare sight in Solon. Whose guest is she?"

"She's my foster daughter. Hou Ran is also an acting officer in the Imperial Guards."

Gowen replied to the impolite Baton's question with a slight change in expression. After the battle at Zaim Fortress, she was not permitted to enter the Imperial Guards' living quarters. So Orba had given her another house, and made her live under Gowen's adoption.

Baton never stopped his curious stares. During this predicament, Hou Ran completely disregarded the boys' conversation. It really was Ran-like of her, and Orba could barely contain himself.

Rogue's wife came out, leading a small child by the hand and offered her greetings.

"This is Mephius' prince. Romus, aren't you also going to greet him?" Rogue urged the child.

He was a boy about twelve, thirteen years old, and possessed an atmosphere similar to Dinn's that differed him from an outspoken boy, and a mouth that only let out slight mumbles. He quickly sank back behind Rogue.

"That's a cute grandson you have there."

"Not at all! He's a good-for-nothing son."

And with just that outburst, Ineli refrained herself from voicing any further impressions. Rogue's wife certainly seemed far younger than he was.

"The only trait he has inherited is that cowardice of mine. Even now, he is afraid to go out in the company of others. It makes me wonder if he’ll be able to get through his adult ceremony in one piece like this.”

The founding festival would be held next week. Of course, various events and ceremonies were arranged, and amongst them would be a coming-of-age ceremony for the sons of nobles and distinguished families. And there would also be an event unimaginable to any other country: public riding on a dragon's back. The ceremony used baby dragons barely several months old, but whose fangs were more than enough to bite through an adult in his prime and kill him. In the past, victims would pop up in this same way every year.

Unlike the past, it was rarely held at present. Once every few years, the houses like the Saian family, bearing a lineage of military commanders, would hold an event to show off their prided sons. This time, Rogue surely intended to have his son participate.

"I implore your highness to stop my husband. That sort of ceremony is entirely impossible for Romus. All he will remember is the atrocious scene that will unfold—"

"Stop it. Do not trouble his highness with our family circumstances. Don't worry, he'll train hard for this day. Won’t you, Romus?"

Romus offered neither assent nor dissent, only gazing up at his father in faintheartedness, unable to decide whether he was more afraid of the dragon or of angering his father.

Rogue said he had borrowed a young dragon from the army's military training camp for Romus to practice and get accustomed to.

"One day, I feel he will want to enter a training school to become a Winged Dragon Officer. But first, Romus must be able to exude a noble spirit before large crowds.”

A winged dragon—literally a dragon with wings, was however, an existence found only in the southern volcanic islands of the planet.

Referred to as winged dragon officers in Mephius, qualified commanders were charged with authority over an upwards of a hundred men and tasked with the operation of flying vessels, namely dragonstone ships. Rogue Saian himself was a winged dragon officer and held the authority to take command of entire fleets.

"Now, if you're done with your meal then go take care of the dragons, Romus. You need all the practice you can."

Romus once again gave a conventional farewell in response to his father's words and took his leave.

Orba and the others remained seated as the servants of the Saian household cut the meat and vegetables into pieces, and prepared the wine. Orba refused the wine with a hand gesture. He never had a strong tolerance for alcohol, and who knew what he might let out in a drunken stupor. During the course of their meal, Rogue told stories of the battlefield. Orba did nothing more than attest to them.

"We aren't exactly interested in your story," Baton and the others bluntly pointed out boredly. The only one who showed interest was surprisingly, the female Ineli. She listened intently to the circumstances revolving around the battle in excitement.

"Princess, I can see you hold the spirit of a warrior." Rogue said brimming with delight. "I only wish my own son could be like that."

The story eventually reached the point where, thanks to the prince's quick wittedness, they were able to march into the fortress where several strong warriors lay in wait. And then Ineli suddenly clapped her hands as she remembered something.

"That's right. I've always been meaning to hear about it if I ever met with brother. Wasn’t the one who defeated Ryucown was a gladiator? I was really surprised when I heard his name. Brother, do you remember him? You know, that Iron Tiger Orba!

Orba, who was just drinking tea at the moment, entered into a choking fit.

"You saw it at Ba Roux, right? The one who saved me from that Sozos dragon!"

"Y-Yeah."

"Did you know he became a member of your Imperial Guards? If that's the case, can't you let me meet him one time?"

"What's going to happen when you meet the supposed gladiator?" 

Not paying any mind to Baton's grimace of a response,

"I never thanked him for that time he saved me from the dragon. And I wanted to talk with the one who personally exchanged blows with General Ryucown. Just what kind of gentleman was General Ryucown, and how skilled was he was with a sword? Doesn't thinking about it leave you trembling in excitement? I'm so close to the person who practically experienced the scene that would leave its mark in history!"

Ineli continued to be engrossed in her talk. Without realizing she had made Orba's expression darken,

"Ahh, it would’ve been so great if Ryucown had been captured and made to fight Orba in a one-on-one within the arena . The battle at the fortress could redone, and if Orba managed to take the head of Ryucown then, the festival would bustle at its peak—"

Boom! Orba had slammed his cup onto the table, causing Ineli's voice to taper off. Orba was trembling, and everyone's attention quickly turned towards him.

"Prince."

The one who leaned his body forward was Gowen. He poured tea into Orba's now empty cup. His eyes stared into Orba’s, urging him not to be so emotional. Orba drew back his chin and gave a nod.

Turning to face Ineli, "You will soon," he said hoping to smooth things out.

"Really?"

"But assuming you do meet him, he's really not an interesting person. He also has no proper etiquette. All he'll do is leave you with an unpleasant experience."

"Well, that's acceptable; I'm rather lenient with that. I don't expect the different people of this world to adopt a similar behaviour. You can't chat in the same language with your dragon after years of tending to its needs, can you?”

Orba made an effort to prevent his feelings of discomfort from showing on his face. The incident with Hou Ran suddenly weighed on his mind. He thought it was about time the girl who told him of the dragon’s ‘voice’ suddenly intruded into their conversation, but she was no where to be found.

While everyone was having a pleasant chat, Baton took the opportunity to leave his seat. Orba noticed that his eyes darted around restlessly as he was walked, as if he was searching for someone.

In between the mansion and on the other end of the garden was an established cell. Within it was a child Baian. Its length was roughly two metres. Since some time back, the dragon had been lowering its head and incessantly sticking its forked tongue in and out, hissing menacingly at Romus who stood before the cage.

He kept his distance for a while, eyeing the Baian in horror, but braced himself and, holding a bundle of meat from the garden in his hand, approached the dragon. With legs nearing full development and claws as sharp as a sword, it could hardly be called a baby dragon.

Romus quickly tossed the meat. However, it landed directly in front of the cage. Romus approached no further, trying his best in an attempt to kick it in.

Gawrr, the dragon roared, as it violently rammed its head against the cage. Romus fell backwards and frantically tried to scurry away. The Baian stuck its long tongue through the gap and slipped the food into its mouth.

"You...!"

The young Romus lost his temper. "You, you, you, you, you!" He took a three-pronged spear leaning beside the cage into his hand. It was a tool for use against dragons. The ends were blunted, so that it could be shoved in between the cage bars without wounding the dragon, but Romus brandished the weapon as if he were about to slay his foe and gave a thrust to the dragon's head.

The dragon shook its head as it gave out loud wails. He thrust a second time, and on the third, he struck near the eye. He pursued the overwrought, retreating dragon with deep thrusts. As he was doing so, his hand was suddenly grabbed from the side, startling Romus.

It was Hou Ran. The hand flung him to the side. Romus once again lay on his bottom, as the roars of the dragon reverberated with the force of a cannon in his ear. Using its rearfoot to stand, the dragon proceeded to bare its fangs as it clung to the cage. Romus' face lost colour. He was thrown off his guard, and the dragon continued to draw closer, surely planning to attack him in one fell swoop.

"Be careful," Ran spoke.

For a moment, Romus wasn't sure if she was speaking to him or the dragon. Then the girl stretched her hand through the cage and gently stroked the Baian's throat.

He watched in amazement as the Baian, who didn't listen to anything until just recently, emitted a gentle groan, stopped standing on its rear feet, and lowered its head. Hou Ran bent down and caressed its forehead.

"Come."

Ran extended her other hand and called Romus over. Partially pale hair could be seen on her dark skin. Committing this mysterious figure to heart, he nervously brought himself closer.

"Are you scared of the dragon?"

"I-I'm not scared. I mean, he could attack you even like this."

"Because you're afraid of the dragon, the dragon is also afraid of you."

"Eh?"

Romus winced, not because of the unexpected remark, but because she grasped his hand and brought it in the direction of the cage.

"Baby dragons especially, have hearts like a mirror. It reflects your own heart. Look into its eyes and feel it."

He took a breath, and gazed into the dragon's glassy eyes. Of course, he couldn't perceive any of its emotions. But for some reason, he never let go of Hou Ran's hand, and he slowly, steadily brought himself closer to the dragon's scales—and touched it.

He shrank back his shoulders and back, two, and then three times. It wasn't that he was scared. In those parts, he could feel a hot sensation transmitted there, and most prominent was an impact as if he received several blows to the forehead.

When he realized what it was, he broke into tears, as Ran hugged his back.

"You’re a strong child," Ran whispered into his ear. "And there is potential in you. You heard its 'voice', right? You don't have to be afraid of the dragon anymore. But you also shouldn't show your back too often. Dragons and humans are different; the way they tie a trusting relationship, the way they talk, the way they spend their time, and the way they get happy. You should spend some time understanding it."

"Well isn't this a sight for sore eyes."

The joke came as Baton Cadmos revealed himself. Romus, ashamed of his crying, quickly stood up and wiped his eyes. Baton approached in long strides and stopped in front of Hou Ran.

"You say you were in an all-male slave detention camp? Just what were you doing there? Did you help the men relieve them of their boredom?"

Hou Ran stared back at him, unimpressed. Baton licked his lips, like a prey stalking a predator.

"You aren't too bad."

"Really."

"A woman like you that stinks of dragon dung once in a while isn't bad at all. Even if you're a part of the Imperial Guards, you must be bored, right? You should work in my mansion. I'll make it a 'good' experience. Way better than those crude sword slaves or uselessly large dragons could ever give you."

Hou Ran was about to say something, when she suddenly glanced over. Leaning against the wall over Baton's shoulders was Orba, staring straight at her. In response, Ran faced the young noble, her lips creviced to reveal a stunning smile.

"I like strong men."

"That's right. And I have power," Baton grinned widely. "Enough to keep you."

"That's not good enough. You'll have to at least show me your strength, like this child did."

Ran pointed her hand towards Romus, and then to the Baian within the cage. "Ha," Baton sneered.

"Are dragons all the standard for you people of the Ryuujin Faith? If that kid can do it, there's no way I can't. I even brought down a Baian in last year's dragon hunting. A baby dragon like this is nothing."

With a crank of his shoulders, Baton stepped up to the Baian and touched its lowered head. Baton gave a triumphant smile and turned back around, not noticing how Hou Ran's gaze went through him, and focused on the dragon.

A string of saliva hung from the Baian's mouth, when it opened and gave a roar before it stood up.

"W-Waahhh!"

The startled Baton jumped back. The dragon fervently swung its claws out between the bars of the cage. Baton scrambled away, severely banging his hip in the process, not stopping until he was sure to have reached a safe place. His face was completely pale.

"That's too bad."

With a thin smile, Hou Ran flung back her hair and turned around, to give a despising glare at the figure. She came up to Orba. Before he could call out to her, she beat him to it.

"You were testing me."

She stomped on his feet. Orba jumped up from the unexpected assault.

"You were watching what I was doing. You knew it wasn't your place. And still you thought to bring our friendship closer. So you tested me."

"W-wait up. Hey, Hou Ran..."

It was exactly as she said, but Orba never imagined it would make her this mad. In a way, he understood less about a girl's feelings than of the dragons' 'voice'.

===Part 3===
Dinn used the time while the prince had gone out to thoroughly clean up the room. Doing so alone would have been too heavy a labour, so he spoke with the grand chamberlain and acquired help from several others. It wasn't unusual for several people to be tasked to look after a member of the imperial family. The one who arranged for Dinn alone to be entrusted with the duty was none other than Fedom, for fear that Orba's true colours would be brought to light. The official reason was because the hot-tempered prince could trust no other chamberlain except Dinn.

In any case, he was finished shortly after noon. The other chamberlains took their leave, and as he let out a sigh of relief, the bell announcing visitors rang. The soldiers acting as the room bodyguards had rung it.

Somehow, Dinn had a bad feeling about this.

"Did something bad happen?"

Ineli stealthily whispered in his ear, pointing to Baton, who was clearly in a bad mood. Her playful expression annoyed Orba.

"He failed to make a pass on a girl. Leave him be."

He answered, more or less now used to it. Ineli giggled, and taking Orba's hand, joined it around her surprisingly slender arms. It was a rather skillful play, and then Orba felt her call out to the side,

"What are you going to do now, Baton? If you want to go back and weep, I won't be stopping you."

"Don't kid around. There's a place I want to check out. It's a well-known store that even the prince would happily approve of."

It was a given that Orba had no way of knowing, but for Baton, this would be the day's main event.

The horses were left in the Saian residence, and Baton was the first to take the lead and begin walking.

The southwestern district was divided by the Sazan River from the area of the palace and nobles' residence. Once they treaded on the Town District, they made a few turns here and there, and separated from the main road. There was a smell of garbage waste, prompting Ineli to hold her nose. The other boys also exchanged worried looks.

"Are you sure this is the right place, Baton?"

Even Troa, who should have been aware of the plan, worriedly asked this. Baton snorted.

''They were raised as the sons of well-off families after all.''

It was unlikely that nobles would set foot into this sort of place in the absence of bodyguards. But to Baton, it was a familiar sight. Sick of his usual days of boredom, he would often frequent such places. It was a part of his own ventures to seek out thrills.

"Hey, hold up."

Several poorly dressed men came from the direction of the voice and approached them. One of them whistled.

"Well aren't you a group of rather well-dressed young masters."

"It's dangerous here ya know, because there's a whole bunch of bad people around. They'll quickly strip you of your belongings."

"Because we're nice people, we'll help you guys out of here, so if you'd offer us something of value, that'll make us ''really'' happy."

They were dressed in dregs, giving off the appearance of thugs, but all of them were acquaintances of Baton.

They conferred the financially well off Baton the position of leader, and often hung out in 'groups' around these parts. At times, they would go as far as to simulate blackmailings and stealings.

"Don't screw with me," Baton got fired up, according to plan. "As if we would even give the least bit of money to get past guys like you. You guys that don't know your place, scram!"

"What was that?!"

The person in front spat out saliva and then drew a dagger from his back.

Ineli shrank back as she instinctively let out a scream. Baton casually pat her on the back, "It's an act," he told in a small voice. He continued,

"How shall we go about this..."

He stared at the seemingly dumbfounded prince. The prince had been silent the whole time. Baton held the contemptuous thought that he was left shaking in his boots at a lost for words.

''He succeeded with his first campaign, they say? And just what can this spoiled prince do in such a kill-on-sight situation?''

For a while now, the two may have held a relationship where they would gallivant about together, but within Baton's heart, he had looked down on the prince this whole time. He felt himself a far more capable man. But now that prince was hailed as a hero. For this reason, he wanted to make a fool out of him in public. He wanted to make them see the prince's abilities in a new light.

There was no way for Baton to know, of course, the feelings that Gil—Orba was harbouring at the time. Because he would never imagine that Gil had switched places with a former gladiator, it also wasn't too much of a stretch that Orba held a strange feeling of nostalgia.

''The fixed smell, alleyways, threatened extortion by pointing blades, and the stealing—''

These were all the only things he experienced as a child. In the few years after the time Oubary had burned down his village until he was made to become a gladiator, he had lived sipping the muddy waters from the worst parts of town.

Before his eyes, he saw a great many men brandishing their daggers.

"Now, what's the matter? If your mouths aren't working, then how about I force it open for you."

The boy pointed his dagger at Orba's mouth. Orba didn't turn away, carefully looking past the blade and observing his opponents. They numbered four. All of them most likely carried weapons. He wore a pistol and dagger on his back. If he could seize a chance, he was fully confident he could beat them, but he couldn't afford to do it too skilfully in the presence of Ineli and the others.

''Now then—''

As Orba thought of a prince-like behaviour that might get them out of this situation, Baton suddenly reached out his hand and knocked away the dagger in front of the prince's mouth.

"You shouldn't go too far with your pranks, or you'll be in for a world of pain," Baton said with a triumphant air.

He was already satisfied, having been able to make a show of the prince's worthlessness in front of his best friends.

"We are Mephian nobility. If you so much as inflict a wound on us, you lot would be hung in the blink of an eye. We'll overlook this. Now scram!"

That was the arranged key phrase, but the opposing men showed not even the smallest indication of being daunted; they were smirking. And to make matters worse,

"Oh? Nobility you say."

Startled, Baton turned around to face the voice that called out. There were another three men drawing closer, dressed in rags just like the others. But he had no recollection assigning them as cast in this play.

"Now that I look more closely, I'd say you're the real thing. We heard your little chat and couldn't help to think what awfully mighty things you said."

"Well isn't this a bigger catch than I imagined."

"You bastards!" Baton let out in a low voice. He was well aware of the colour draining from his face. They had went along with Baton's proposed plan and laid a trap on their end.

"W-what are you going to do? If it's money you really want, I'll be sure to later..."

"We don't need your loose change, Cadmos boy. With this many hostages, they wouldn't mind if we demanded even more money, right?"

Ineli once again gave another shrill scream; one of the thugs had laid his hands on her dress.

"Those're some nice ''garbs'' yer wearin'. I wanna bring 'em home to my daughter."

"L-let go! You low-life, get your filthy hands off me!"

Ineli slapped his cheek. It was a reflexive action that tensed the situation.

"This wench."

"Who's the real filthy one, you damn Mephian nobles. Do it."

"W-wait! Wait I tell you!"

Baton shouted, as Ineli's legs gave way. With a frantic expression,

"T-The one over here is Mephius' crown prince. You should get that there's no way you'll get away with it..."

"The prince, you say?"

A joyous countenance flashed across their faces contrary to Baton's expectations, but one of them directed eyes full of hatred on their 'guest'. He was the oldest man in the group.

"Prince Mephius! Who would have thought I would be able to meet him here. He is the bane of Layla, and the one person I mustn't let escape."

Again, the same man acted alone and drew his sword. The drawn sword left the young nobles speechless and frozen stiff, as one of them thought,

''Layla?''

Upon hearing the name for the first time, he committed her connection with these men to memory.

"First, let's have you hand over that gun. Actually, stay right there. I'll take it."

As per the instructions of the man who first drew his sword, Orba reached his hands towards his back.

The time that seemingly stood still continued to flow. Orba quickly reached towards the other half of his body and drew the gun from his back. "Wait," as his fellow thugs called out, Orba swiftly pulled the trigger quickly.

Having been shot on the midfoot, the man fainted in agony. Orba didn't hesitate. In a situation where the enemies numbered many, missing a chance to strike the first blow was fatal.

"You asshole!"

"Long as he's alive, I don't give a damn! The gun, slice his whole arm off!"

He nimbly dodged the man that slashed at him from behind.

"Run!" Orba shouted. He practically kicked Baton from behind, pushing him towards the side. They didn't need any more prompting, and as the other thugs gave chase to the boys, they were met with another round of bullets. They toppled sideways as blood gushed out of their bodies.

"Now you've done it!"

The remaining men all rushed towards Orba. They were at point-blank range, and Orba, deeming that the pistol couldn't properly be handled at point-blank, kicked the knee of the man in front, snatching the short sword from his hands. Twice, thrice he repelled the pouring onslaught of daggers.

A colour of surprise and impatience hung on the dirt-covered mens' faces. They had agreed to kidnap the younger nobles, and had more or less resolved themselves, but having let everyone escape, the nobles would surely come back and rain retribution down on them.

"This brat!"

With unexpected skill, he slashed downwards, diagonally across the shoulders of a stumbling man. "Surround him!" and the instant Orba heard the bellow, jumped back to the rear. He blocked the pursuing blade using the katana grasped in his right hand to perform an upwards sweeping motion, and with the dagger strapped to his back, stabbed the man in the chest with his left.

If he were to diminish their numbers, then their chances of success would drastically decrease. He whirled the sword on his right in arcs, and the foes continued to fall amidst the clattering, until only a single man was left. He was the man who had cried out 'bane of Layla'.

"Y-You-You bastard!!"

He gripped his blade, ready to strike. The man's stubble-covered face trembled in its entirety, as he glared at Orba. But it wasn't Orba he hated. It was a person possessing the same appearance as he, whom the man detested.

Just as he was about to attack, Orba fired a shot near his feet. "Hiiii," the man jumped, and collapsed on his bottom.

"Who is Layla?" Orba asked, as he established his aim.

"D-Don't play dumb! I won't let you say you forgot you did to Layla."

"Say it." He thrust the muzzle up his chin, "Who is Layla? And what do you mean by getting revenge?"

Quite some time passed, as Orba caught up with Ineli and the others along the bank of Sazan River.

"B-Brother."

Ineli gazed at Orba as if she was seeing a dead one come back to life. Orba collapsed onto the floor on the spot, pretending to have barely escaped from a near-death situation."

"Are you ok?"

"B-Barely. You guys, wasn't it a bit too much to run away and leave me behind like that?"

"That's....Your Highness himself was the one who said to run," one of the boys said, but Orba made a face as if he didn't remember it at all.

In the end, after it was clear that everyone had made it out safely, Ineli's expression turned into one that completely relished in the thrill, and returned to her usual self.

"I would have never thought you would suddenly just shoot."

"It was really sudden for me too, and I don't really remember it all that well."

"Hey, Your Highness? Don't get too mad after hearing about it, okay? All of this was...."

"Ine-Princess Ineli." Baton coughed violently to interrupt Ineli. "Please keep the information regarding that matter c-c-confidential."

Even though Ineli was short of breath, she floated a smile across her face. Orba could somewhat guess what it was about, but kept his mouth shut. Ineli planned to, under the leverage of the 'secret', toy with Baton to the utmost.

''At any rate.''

The matter regarding the aforementioned 'Layla' weighed on Orba's mind. According to what he heard from the man he threatened, Gil Mephius had exercised the privilege exclusive to the imperial family, 'right to the first night', on a local bride. That was Layla. Her father was an officer of the Imperial Guards directly under the control of the emperor, but following the incident, he explained to the relatives and close friends invited to the wedding.

"It is the prince's usual dalliance. Nothing will happen," he explained.

No one was convinced. But this staked on his daughter’s honour, and the imperial officer made them swear to never reveal this matter to others. After that, they never saw the father and daughter again. Their mansion in the city of Solon had also, at one point, been sold off. Rumours spread of how they had been killed to silence them, and before long, talk of this matter ceased.

The man Orba questioned was also a distant relative of Layla.

In constant fear of when an assassin might come, he had lost all will to work, and went as far as to perform the activities of a night thief that he held himself in contempt for. He loathed the Mephian nobles and most of all, Gil Mephius.

"I understand now."

Once he had finished hearing everything, Orba set down his gun. He departed, leaving the fallen men lying in the pools of blood.

''Rone Jayce.''

An officer of the Imperial Guards. This was worth investigating. The disturbance of the 'right of first night' occurred just before Orba was made into Gil's body double. Moreover, Gil shared a bed with Layla in a barroom, when the man witnessed none other than Fedom running into the room.

''What happened there…?''

On the way back, under the swaying of the horse, Orba was lost in thought.

"Your Highness," Ineli reached over from behind and gently prodded Orba, signalling the sun was already setting.

"Lord Zaat is here."

"Ah," Orba unintentionally let out. Emerging from the store along with several men armed with swords acting as bodyguards was a man clad in what could easily be identified as clothing for a noble, and Oubary Bilan. These two stopped moving, seeming to have noticed the prince.

"If this isn't the prince. What an unusual place to have met you. I take it you are in good health."

Oubary's thin, spread, purple lips broke to form a smile. Just seeing his face was enough for Orba to feel his body heat up, and he was only able to respond with a light nod. And the other person was:

''Zaat Quark.''

With the portraits Dinn had laid out, he was able to roughly remember the faces of the leading nobles. He was a member of the Founding Imperial Council. The House of Quark had been around since the founding of Mephius, and remained a distinguished family in the successive generations. While gazing at Orba with a grand demeanour and eyes filled with vigour, he opened his mouth.

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v02 057.jpg|thumb]]
"Congratulations on your first successful campaign.....A month has already passed since then, as I now remember at this late hour, but I regret to inform you that I have not had a chance to visit you since then. His Imperial Majesty has also been left worried. How about you show him your face tomorrow, if not earlier?"

"Oh, okay."

"If the other nobles were to see that the prince, who is supposed to be laying in bed ill, is playing around in such a place, there will be no stopping them from speaking ill of you. Mephius is more or less on the verge of rebellion. As you are an important prince, do take care."

He indeed spoke with a refined demeanour and yet gentle tone, notwithstanding the piercing glint in his eyes. Zaat was not one of the twelve generals, but carried the vestiges of the House of Quark that once held dominion over the position. Compared to genuine military commanders like Rogue or Oubary, he held few soldiers and should not have personally stood in a battlefield before. But those eyes just now were exactly the kind that intently fixed themselves on the enemy.

''So...he's the head of the anti-imperial faction?''

He hadn't received this information from Dinn, but remembered Fedom mentioning it at one point. Zaat appeared to be the most opposed to Kaiser Islan's imprisonment. Would the prince have faltered from this? As Orba held this thought, it was suddenly cut short.

"Well then, please excuse me."

After courteously leaving his message, he departed with Oubary. Orba stared at the form of the two men boarding the coach that had been waiting in front of the store, or more exactly, at Oubary alone.

''One day,'' Orba swore in his mind.

''One day I'll burn you to death. That's right, 'one day'. Not now. I'm not so nice as to just kill you now.''

"It's better to not worry about it, brother."

Ineli took Gil's lapse of silence to mean he had fallen depressed over the indirect reprehension of their idling. She smiled while patting him on the back.

"Still, what a strange combination," one of the boys cocked his head. "I've never seen the two of them get along so well together until now."

"Whatever. Let's just hurry and go back. We'll be sorry to receive the fussings of another important person.''

Or so Baton said, but even now, his face paled. It was obvious to everyone he was terrified of what other troubles he might find himself caught up in.

''What a weird day.''

Orba thought as he walked through the palace passage.

A lot of things happened, but at present, the prince's closest of friends had yet to suspect his true colours. It could be considered his first of steps. It was absolutely necessary to obtain all the rights and privileges the prince held, and to do so, he needed to be able to put up with the various worthless happenings.

Be that as it may, the unaccustomed battles had left him exhausted, body and mind.

"Dinn," he called out to the page once he had opened the door. "I won't be needing a bath or a meal today."

"And you also won't be—"

"Prince."

Orba noticed Dinn wore an expression of discomfort. The prince's room was a continuation of three rooms, and the first door that was opened led to a small room where chairs and a counter were arranged to let a waiting visitor settle in.

In there, the shadow of a figure could be seen sitting in moody silence. With a single glance, Orba's fatigue had somewhat left him. It was Garbera's third princess, Vileena. With her rich, silver hair hanging on her back, the dignified beauty looked up directly at Orba.

"I welcome you back, Your Highness the Crown Prince, Gil." "

"Y, Yeah."

"Pray tell me, where did you head off to?"

"Well, that is—oh, I was invited to the general's house."

"You ''certainly'' seem to be in good health."

''Each and every one of them says the exact same thing.''

Such a thought crossed his head. He planned to restrain the feeling, but it must have showed on his face.

"Did I perhaps say something odd? I am an unaccustomed guest in Mephius after all. I am not privy to the culture and humour of this country. That is to say, I’d like for us to come to an immediate understanding, or at the very least, for you to firmly answer me."

"What are you trying to say?" Orba angrily glared at the girl two years younger than him. "This isn't very princess-like. If there's something you want to say, then say it frankly."

"Is that so. Then, let's be frank. Prince, are you aware of the matter regarding Kaiser Islan?"

"Yes."

"Is ''yes'' all you have to say?" her starry-eyed pupils widened.

"Like I said, what are you trying to say? Just state your business."

"That's already enough."

With a red face, Vileena got up from her seat. Orba wanted to lie down and rest, if even a second earlier, but this attitude only served to stoke his ire.

"What do you mean ''that's enough''? I haven't heard anything yet."

"I wondered if you had collapsed due to the illness, to find you roaming about until this late. If you were agonizing over this country's future, you must have at least given it some thought; from the looks of it, the issue hasn't weighed on your mind the least bit. No matter what I tell you, it would be pointless."

"You have some nerve, discreetly criticizing others you hardly know on nothing but speculation."

He had just managed to keep up a mask of appearances in front of the group of close friends, and somehow, before this fourteen year old princess, it had crumbled away to dust. Most likely, the princess said the one thing that shouldn't be said.

"There are things a child cannot understand. Before you go meddling in people's business, how about you first go and grow up, princess?"

"I most certainly will!"

In an instant, Vileena stood up with great force, and faster than Dinn could let out an 'Ah', pressed towards Orba. Thinking the force would be transmitted through an open palm, Orba reflexively pressed his back against the wall.

"Good day!"

Leaving those sharp words, Vileena ''stomped'' her way out of the room in a manner unbefitting a princess.

Orba loosened his back, as he slumped down against the wall.

''First Ran, and now this princess.''

"I'm also to blame," Dinn said with a bit too sad of a look.

"When the princess came in the afternoon, I explained to her that you had gone out with your friends."

"Then what time will he be returning?" the princess had asked. Thinking it would be bad if the prince took too long to play around, Dinn gave the insubstantial response of, "He'll be back immediately."

"I had repeatedly told her, 'Once he comes back, I would immediately contact them', but she continued to wait in this manner...."

It was afternoon, and then it was already four, and now had passed 5 o'clock. Orba let out a long sigh.

''There's no time to rest, for as long as I deceive this whole country. Damnit, I let my guard down."

There was no doubt Vileena would once again become a threat in Orba's continued battle to fake his current position. Of course, because this was Orba, he had failed to notice even the slightest that Vileena Owell's dress was more daring than usual.
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==Translator's Notes and References==
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