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User talk:Kiydon

2014-01-24T11:23:42Z

Kiydon:

Thanks for editing/proofreading Rakuin no Monshou so far, and good luck with Mismarca Koukoku Monogatari. I'm glad you're willing to stay as an editor, even on a lesser basis, because you've been a great help. If I have a question, I'll know where to find you. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 03:33, 20 June 2013 (CDT)

Thanks for picking editing and my slack on Rakuin no Monshou. I appreciate your excellent work on our series. Lets do our best in the future.--[[User:Tasear|Tasear]] ([[User talk:Tasear|talk]]) 06:59, 20 January 2014 (CST)
*I actually picked up a series earlier, and added to the fact that I'm really busy right now, I haven't edited in a while haha. I'll help out occasionally, when I have time. Have at it! - [[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]] ([[User talk:Kiydon#top|talk]]) 05:23, 24 January 2014 (CST)

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter5

2013-08-12T21:30:32Z

Kiydon: Intransitive usage, and Mephius is an entity, thus singular.

{{Incomplete|percentage=50}}
==Chapter 5: Princess Vileena==
=== Part 1 ===

Zaim was known for being an impregnable fortress. To the north, steep cliffs touched the border of Ende, and to the south an unobstructed view of plains was spread out. If Mephius actually wanted to cross the border and invade, Zaim Fortress was considered to be its biggest hurdle.

Ryucown had made it surrender in the blink of an eye and turned it into his own stronghold. It could be he had the help of traitors, but it could also be that the people at Zaim Fortress never intended to turn their blades toward Ryucown, because he was a Garberan to begin with.

And besides…

''Maybe he secretly got assistance from the Principality of Ende.''

This assumption was shared by both Mephius and Garbera. If not, he wouldn’t last on any supplies like food, water, and ammunition. And for Ende, right now, they’d conveniently split the Garberan territory in two. In that way, it was good that Ryucown’s tactics hadn’t forcibly placed neighbouring villages under his control, or he would’ve received the enmity of its people.

“Our current Garbera has lost sight of adhering to pride above all!” Ryucown shouted with a loud voice. “Even if we bear the shame of a traitor for the moment, we inherit Garbera’s true pride. Disloyalty shames a knight, but we cannot stay devoted to obeying any senseless ruler. We must consider once again for what cause we should spill our blue blood. Do not mind bearing shame. We will open this fort’s gates and welcome all true knights that dedicate their bodies only for true loyalty.”

Ryucown cut off the heads of all the messengers, not even depending on the counsel from his own home country Garbera. And not only that. He also conducted a surprise attack with his airship on an advance party marching to recapture the fort, before taking flight again.

Within the Garberan royal court, it was the firm opinion that they should quickly send in a whole army to make Zaim surrender in order to protect the royal family’s dignity. But what they feared most of all was that Ende would participate in the war.

At the moment they were still keeping quiet, but if the Principality of Ende publicly admitted to having a collaborative relationship with Ryucown, it was feared Zaim Fortress would become a stronghold for Ende when they challenged Garbera. And with Garbera throwing aside an alliance with them, Ende also had a just cause to do so.

Hence, Garbera had no qualms against Mephius’s request.

Namely, they allowed the Mephian army to cross the Garbera’s national border, making it possible for them to line up formations and attack Zaim Fortress from the west .

It was about a week after the surprise attack at Seirin Valley.

As time went flying by, the situation was also littered with various apprehensions. The Mephian group led by Prince Gil immediately started heading for Idoro. It lay closest to the borders of Ende and Garbera, and was a fortress city that had often been at the forefront during the war with Garbera.

A group of sword slaves from the Tarkas Group was also forced to travel along the journey. Their weapons and dragons confiscated, and moving at a distance while being surrounded by military guards, they were no doubt suffering from stress regarding the dispiriting anxiety for their future. However, thanks to Gowen’s skilfulness, they quietly obeyed for the time being.

Although it might have been the same day-to-day feeling for those living under Tarkas, the situation was more complicated than that because of the Garberran party. In any case, because the ceremony had been interrupted, the marriage between Prince Gil and Princess Vileena had not been concluded. However, wilfully going back home at this point would be a disgrace for the both of them.

“I will go to Idoro as well,” Vileena had told her own country’s delegation, and had gone travelling along to Idoro with Theresia.
For the Mephian side it also gave them the impression they were keeping her as a hostage, but, naturally, Vileena herself had already taken that all into account.

The army moved while the goods were carried by dragon carts. The cavalry, and the dragonriders atop the small-sized dragons guarded all directions, while in the centre, surrounded by the soldiers on foot, the imperial and royal family members moved in coaches.

“I suppose this will be Prince Gil’s first battle,” Orba said, with Fedom siting opposite him inside the coach.

“But am I not the one behind the scenes? Aren’t you being much too overprotective, no matter how you look at it?”

“Shut it,” Fedom called back, irritated. “There’s no need for someone like you to learn the imperial family’s methods of raising a good emperor. You should just do as you’re told.”

“So I’m to command when I’m told, order friends to die when I’m told, and kill the enemy when I’m told?”

“That would be splendid.”

Orba, no less irritated, still felt the traces from his quarrel with Vileena.

“Now stop talking. We don’t know who could be listening.”

And that was the ulterior motive Fedom had. Originally, the written letters had urged him to return to his homeland, Birac. Simon alone had been assigned to be the prince’s support. However, Simon knew the prince’s nature very well. So, because he suspected there were concerns about the prince being a fake at the current campaign, other ‘support’ was necessary.

''At most…''

If the prince did do an outstanding job here, this time nobles would turn up believing the prince held unifying qualities. If Fedom was able to gather up those people and have them back the prince, it might be possible to create a completely new political power in the next era.
Besides, the Prince Gil in question was the same as a puppet that did anything Fedom told him to. On behalf of the corrupted imperial family, he himself could advocate supremacy in these current troubles times – just thinking of it, made Fedom’s heart pound with boyish excitement as blood rushed to his head.

Meanwhile,

“Prince.”

Simon Rodloom, who called from outside of the coach, naturally had his misgivings.

“What is it?” Fedom’s face appeared instead.

Simon, who had gone to the battlefield himself in his younger days, was, to be expected, skilful with handling his horse. Matching the coach’s speed, he tried to peek inside. The prince was resting his cheek against the window on the opposite side.

“These past few days, I’ve hardly seen your face. Although I do hope you’re not doing that to bear the shock received from what happened at Seirin Valley. It might also place a gap on the tale of your first battle. So—”

“The prince is in good health,” Fedom said smiling. “Even now, we were exchanging several views and opinions concerning the capture of Zaim Fortress. Later on, we’d also like to listen to your views on the matter, Master Simon. Oh… Your Highness, is it a little too bright? Please forgive me.”

Fedom acted as if the prince had talked to him and quickly closed the carriage’s curtains.

''That is strange.''

Spurring on his horse, Simon rubbed his chin. Fedom’s sudden intimacy and the prince’s change of heart in these last few days… It wouldn’t be such a miracle if the prince he knew so well, experiencing such an uproar during the ceremony, had lost himself amongst the public. However, from what he’d heard, it seemed the prince had given orders to the knights, and held the enemy at bay before they could kidnap Vileena. Although, as a substitute guardian, he was supposed to be pleased with the prince’s growth, this was far from being human, and he couldn’t simply accept it.

''Be that as it may, I haven’t seen the boy for three days.''

And, at a distance of fifty metres behind, Vileena and Thersia were rocking about in a similarly heavily escorted coach.

The whole time, Vileena had been silent. She was lost in thought, as she looked out at the scenery flying by outside the window. Theresia had her eyes fixed on the side of her mistress’ face.

At a glance, she was the image of a beautiful girl in her puberty and whatnot, even if she was now grown up, but it was apparent to anyone who so much as turned around that she was worriedly longing for something precious to her. The eyelashes covering her eyes were dark, and the bridge of her nose was a thin line. Her petal-like lips were slightly wet, and her skin nearly crystalline white.

In case an honest boy around the same age saw the girl staring off into the distance from her carriage’s window, on his way home from work on the farm, he’d be inexplicably bound only with a single glance. But looking at himself, after having gone through some hundred nights passionately yearning for her despite the issue of social differences, he would eventually marry some village girl and get children. But even if he’d be reading a book by the fireplace surrounded by grandchildren, undoubtedly, he would never be able to forget that one pubertal afterimage of only a single glance until the day he died…

Theresia, quite touched by her own fabrications, gently wiped away a tear with her hand. This was youth. And, when a voice called out “Theresia”, she looked up as if nothing had happened.

“Yes, what is it, your highness?”

“Theresia, how old are you now?”

“Well… when you reach the latter half of your forties, you eventually stop counting. Then it’s normal to look forward to continue on at that age forever.”

“I see,” Vileena said, as she rested her chin in her hand. “That’s quite convenient.”

“Of course, in the meantime, there were various encounters and farewells. Also many men. Speaking about love, there have also been several marriage proposals.”

“I would love to hear about that someday,” Vileena said with a little smile.

“Don’t say someday, but right now. It’s obvious your highness can use this little as a reference.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to hear such things. Cease your suspicious behaviour.”

With an angry frown, Vileena turned away.

''Oh my…''

Although Theresia thought she was cute, that naturally didn’t come out of her mouth. But it was worth teasing her. So, because she would otherwise be bored daydreaming again, her slightly mischievous side came to surface.

“This Prince Gil has one utterly curious side to him, doesn’t he?” Theresia said, feigning ignorance. She didn’t seem to notice Vileena glaring her way, either.

“I really haven’t decided what to think of him,” she continued. “Strangely enough, he has the attitude of someone who knows the world, but unbecoming of royal family he – how to say this correctly – sometimes still seems to speak like a child. Oddly, it’s something I worry about. Whether or not he will become a good husband, I’m certain he’s not the type that would fit into the Garberan court, right?”

“I guess he’s just a fool. Judging from all the rumours I’ve heard, it’s not such a big surprise,” Vileena said curtly. “As an enemy, he’s manageable. But it’s true I have to know a lot more details. They say that, in a battle, intelligence is everything, or so grandfather told me.”

“A battle?”

“Yes, a battle so that no more blood will be shed.”

In the days after their arrival at Idoro, Orba did not change for the better. There was hardly anything he could do until the reinforcements arrived from the capital. With his own country still negotiating with the Garberan side, no more than coming to conclude matters, there was nothing he could decide on without permission.

The fortress of Idoro was known to be strong, although it was a little less daunting than Zaim. The ramparts surrounding the urban areas around the fort were laid out in several layers, making it look like a maze. Walking around there in a sightseeing mood, Orba currently had to bring a lot of people along with him.

With his head thinking about the campaign, he was reminded of the skirmishes between the groups he experienced during his childhood, and that he had no more than the knowledge gained from things like hero stories. In any case, even though Orba had to continue being a body double, not for Mephius’ or the crown prince’s sake, but for his own sake, the state of both his head and feet were truly unsteady.

There were also other worries.

One evening, when he walked through the city, he saw that a crowd had formed. On the other side, sword-slaves were being made to walk, hauled off by around ten guardsmen. Their destination was Idoro’s detention facilities.

Despite Ryucown’s treason having come to the surface, and having cleared away the doubts that they were directly involved in the event, this was no excuse for Tarkas having been used for the prince’s assassination, and it seemed to have taken form in having the ownership of his slaves taken away. To make matters worse, the lord of Idoro was known to be the possessor of an extremely cruel disposition toward slaves.

“Lately there’s been rumours that, in order to raise the troop’s morale, all slaves are going to have their heads cut off in front of the soldiers,” Dinn further explained, shuddering.

The gladiators weren’t close friends. On the contrary, even though they’d shared their meals, they also had the kind of relationship that there would be no doubt or hesitation if they were instructed to kill each other on the next day.

But foremost, Orba’s anger was at the nobles who controlled lives and destinies as they wished, so that they truly were not treated the same as the people surrounding them.

“Personal guards under direct command?”

Orba had heard about it at the morning of their third day stay. Dinn had carelessly slipped his tongue while he was helping out with breakfast.

The imperial family, who were authorized to command the army, were able to directly choose their personal guard. The possibility to be chosen as part of the imperial guard was popular among the sons of nobles, with the exception of the eldest sons who would have lose their right of inheritance, but it was also possible to choose people not from such a status, and even give them the position of officer. Prince Gil was given that authority at the age of fifteen, but Dinn said he had not specially employed it.

That evening, Orba left for the detention camp, passing many staircases, for the multiplexed structural arrangement of this fortress was made so to keep the whole of public eye at a distance. A hundred gladiators were tucked away in a cramped room. They looked left and right in confusion at the prince’s sudden appearance, which he thought wouldn’t be so strange if Kain hadn’t been working on an escape plan for the night, and laughed inwardly. Even now, he was cunningly working with dexterous fingers, attempting to escape.

“What!? Are you serious, Orba!?”

Gowen unintentionally raised his voice, before Shique blocked his mouth.

“Yeah, I’m serious.”

“What made you think of something so brash?” Shique, as expected of him, spoke in a hushed voice, but his face looked shocked. “If this is true, don’t you think the people around you will be more suspicious of your true identity.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve been collecting information about the prince. He’s just a huge idiot, and doesn’t even listen to other people’s advice. Actually, this is just the kind of thing such a dim-witted prince would do. I’m thrilled you want to save yourselves, but I’d like to make the gladiators my own personal guards.”

Because the investigation was still going on, Tarkas himself was left in the building, but all of the remaining gladiators were made into Gil Mephius’ personal guards. The company-employed blacksmith who carried out the armour’s repairs, and the girl entrusted in taking care of the dragons, Hou Ran, were also granted the status of Imperial Guard.

One official paper, marked with a sign in the prince’s handwriting, as he was taught by Dinn in these past few days, fully sufficed.
When Fedom found out afterwards, he was obviously in a fit of anger. However, Orba made a face as if to say ‘is something the matter?’.

“Well, now I’ve already done it. When the real prince replaces me in the future, he can undo it or expel them if he wants to. Until then – let’s see – we’re okay on horses and dragons, but could you prepare weapons and armour for them? The ones from the company are all just second-hands. I also want several guns exclusive to the Imperial Guard.”

“Bastard! Mind you – I will remember all of this! Don’t do any more unnecessary things. You can’t even breathe freely without having my direct permission. Don’t forget that your life fully rests on how I feel about you.”

“That feeling’s mutual.”

“What did you say!?”

Despite Dinn anxiously fidgeting around between the two of them, Orba gave Fedom a sharp look.

“You should’ve understood that, right? But fine… I also don’t want to drive myself into a corner any more than necessary. I’ll leave my selfishness up to this extent. Instead, I’ll ask you for the equipment.”

“You mongrel…”

Fedom’s anger, seemingly about to faint anytime soon, also directing his glare at Dinn, and Orba was about to dismiss the grand noble from his room.

“For tomorrow, I’ll do anything you say even if it’s a depressing play. If I truly get carried away and do whatever I want before the first battle, you can give me any scolding you want. So, scoot, scoot! You’re a busy man, aren’t you?”

''Interesting…''

After driving Fedom out, with now Dinn’s scolding going in one ear and out the other, Orba had this thought for the first time since coming into this situation.

In any case, he was the crown prince. While there were many inconveniences, as a commoner he could act as he pleased and do what he liked. Placing gladiators directly under his control as soldiers for instance, although looking back, he couldn’t honestly say that he’d saved from the nobles. But there was also his intention in wanting to know how much was he able to do, and for how long his self-proclaimed owner, Fedom, would permit this pet dog’s ‘biting habits’.

''Even if I find out, I suppose I should be a little bit more careful.''

If Fedom directly saw Orba as a dangerous person, he would probably lose all of this small freedom he currently had. Perhaps even his life. And if that was over, there would’ve been no use to playing those antics.

Two days later, the expeditionary forces arrived from the capital. It had been decided Prince Gil would lead the troops.

Two dragonstone air carriers, 50 dragoons, 150 horsemen, and 500 foot soldiers – a considerable amount to be entrusted to a supreme commander on his first campaign.

The populace packed together at the main street as the troops came striding in, and Orba was looking down at them from the castle balcony. As the airships flew in the sky, the clattering of armour sounded, and a forest of spears and rifles formed in a line, it felt exactly like a scene from the historical novels or heroic tales he’d feasted on during his childhood.

Entranced by that gallant display, Orba’s eyes were gleaming like that of a boy. If seen by his companions from his time as a gladiator, he was certain that they wouldn’t be able to believe he was the same person, and not just because he no longer had a mask.

After that, doing as Fedom told him to, Orba went out to meet them at the castle square. But when his eyes made contact with the flagship’s captain, who had become a great general of long service, at the centre of his troops, the joy and excitement from his childhood vanished at once.

=== Part 2 ===

This was all too unexpected.

Beyond unexpected, he was late in noticing this was the scene that he’d been waiting for all this time.

Clad in simple black armour, standing with his heels together in front of the ‘prince’, the man bowing before him had a characteristic kind of smile that could be taken as arrogance.

That majestic air he had still remained the same as before. Back then, he’d ordered to ‘set fire to the lot’ from horseback.

''Oubary…''

With all his nerves on edge, a wave of heat ran through his body. His throat was dry, and he felt dizzy.

At the same time, all kinds of future possibilities came to mind. Immediately leap at this man and strangle his neck with his bare hands, stab him with his sword, shoot a bullet through his head, or interrogate him about Alice’s, his mother’s, or his brother’s whereabouts – every temptation was twirling through his mind with the same intensity, stirring up, and Orba was thrown away by all of its strength.

But now… as Prince Gil Mephius, instead of choosing such a direct approach without regard to his future, it should be possible to create other options. A crueller, more striking, and more tragic way of chasing down this man.

Orba, standing upright, hardly heard the other person’s greetings. Fedom accepted the greetings on his behalf. When he was informed that there was a party being arranged to feed their courage in the castle hall, Oubary adjutant replied.

“Well, wouldn’t it be as easy to stretch the soldiers’ feathers even when we’re not there? I would like you to immediately hear us out in a war council. There is also a message from His Majesty, Emperor Guhl.”

“Ahh yes, I understand.”

Next to him, cheerfully smiling, Oubary gave the ‘prince’ his greetings.

“It has been a long time, Your Highness. And it is finally the prince’s first campaign. The unworthy me, Oubary, has the privilege to be of your assistance. If nothing more, I will make sure to decorate your first battle with victory.”

For a short while, Orba didn’t say a thing and stared at Oubary’s spread purple lips.

“Yeah…” he said, nodding. “I’ll leave it to you.”

Oubary Bilan, aged 44, was a strong general who had rushed out into the battlefield against Garbera many times over. He had once assumed responsibility of guarding Apta Fortress, but when the Garberran army cut through his forces and started besieging the fortress, he’d immediately pulled back his troops by his own country’s demands. They wanted to cut the Garberan armies in two – namely, get rid of Apta in the early stages, and cross over the border in one sweep where they raided a Garberran strike force prepared to attack Idoro.

This decoy strategy became a similar retaliation strike for Garbera, and Mephius lost part of its southern territory, but it had brought a lot of damage on Garbera in return.

After that, he’d continued at the frontlines, and this time he’d been ordered to accompany the prince on his first campaign.

“So now I have to become this kid’s babysitter?”

Oubary had sullenly spoken those words over his shoulder when he’d received his orders. Although he bragged about being better in fights than anyone else in Mephius, in reality he’d mostly survived by taking the leftover fights.<ref>Actually: 勝ち残り- it’s a term for someone who wins by laying low and then take the finishing blow when necessary, like a kill-stealer.</ref>

Above that, he was also heavily opposed to the peace with Garbera. He was not the kind of man with the guts to openly speak against the emperor, but, for someone who’d been standing on the battlefield since the beginning of this ten-year-war, his irritation for putting an end to it with such halfway measures was all the worse.

He was as much as a reverse rebel.

“It should’ve been left as it was. No, cooperating with these rebels instead and plunging Garbera into a long period of mayhem would’ve been even better. If that was the case, we could’ve increased our military strength and taken over the Garberan capital.”

Although he spoke about such fabrications with resourceful families, as he soon learned of the incident at Seirin Valley, it had gradually changed Oubary’s way of thinking. The scale of the fight was never all that big, but this would no doubt define the positions between the three countries for future relationships.

''Even I’m not a man who can choose his future by himself.''

He had his own ambitions. After the peace talks, a letter directed to him personally had arrived from none other than of the biggest peace opposition in Garbera. Could it have been proof that they were afraid of his name and strength? He could make even more a name of himself, if he would broaden his future course.

On top of that, Oubary also knew the crown prince Gil Mephius’ personality well. He would be headed for a glorious first campaign – after all, that prince wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything by himself. He planned to take away his full authority.

“Ahh, but…” he joked, drinking wine together with his subordinated before leaving the capital. “I will have to make it look like it’s all the prince’s doing. It’ll be troublesome in the future, if I get under his skin.”

<noinclude>

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

{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4|Chapter 4]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter6|Chapter 6]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

User:Kiydon

2013-08-08T02:17:06Z

Kiydon:

I'm new to this site, but I've actually read through pretty much all the works translated/hosted here.

Currently translator of Mismarca Koukoku Monogatari on C.E. Translations. Also currently editor/proofreader for Rakuin no Monshou on Baka-Tsuki, and for Sayonara Piano Sonata on C.E. Translations.

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Prologue

2013-06-21T07:11:08Z

Kiydon:

"However, ever since the winter her once robust grandfather got injured, he had become bedridden." I think that "injured" here is used incorrectly, as in the raw it just mentions that his health deteriorates 「ただ、壮健そのものであった祖父がある冬以来、身体を壊し、床に伏せるようになってしまった。」. -[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* I translated 身体を壊し as 'injured (壊し) his body (身体)', but you're right that 身体 can also mean health. Considering the context, you're suggestion's better, so I'll use that.

Here's some more. "As the sky began to blend into the same colour as the surface," "surface" here probably should be replaced with "ground", as 地面 in 地面と同じ色 refers to the earth's surface or the ground. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* 地面 literally means 'earth's surface', in this case either ground, land or surface can be used. I actually prefer land or surface.
* Ah, what I meant was that it was a bit confusing with the airships around, as I initially thought it referred to the surface of the airship.

This sentence, "If only father had the resolve to let me, on the bridal night, I would readily slice open the sleeping head of my husband to be!", sounds a bit awkward, so a better way to phrase this would be "If only father had the resolve to let me, on the bridal night, slice open the sleeping head of my husband to be, I would readily do so!" Also, I'm just going through the chapters one by one, proofreading some parts and editing others, so do you want me to keep post these suggestions on the discussion page? I'm already directly editing the more minor fixes. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* Please keep posting these kind of suggestions here, because it looks like I do not always agree with them (no offense though), and I don't like reverting people's edits because that makes it look like I'm ungrateful or something. With the example above I think it's just a matter of wanting to translate the Japanese sentence order directly, or change it so that it sounds better in English. Your suggestion is similar to the Japanese sentence order, but it feels a bit strained (at least to me) in English. So I prefer my original translation. Another option might be "If only father had the resolve to let me, I would readily slice open the sleeping head of my husband to be on the bridal night!".
*Actually, disregard the suggestion I had. I probably wasn't really awake last night; on a closer examination, the sentence is grammatically correct. Whoopsie! But yeah, I like the second option more, since the "on the bridal night" part is in a weird position, and makes the sentence sound awkward. Placing it on the end makes it flow better. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

''Shaking their heads in frustration, some ended up being moved to tears and sorrow.'' --> ... in frustration, some of them ... or ... in frustration. Some ended ...

* Suggestion 2 makes the first sentence faulty in my opinion. It shouldn't be split into two sentences. Changing 'some' into 'some of them' can be considered, but I don't see what's wrong with using 'some' as a subject, unless it isn't clear from the context who 'some' refers to. I think it's clear though. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 09:59, 19 June 2013 (CDT)

* I knew the '.' will be changing the sentences, but I guessed you might want to normalize the phases as shown in ''Some of them snorted through their noses and''.... I too had thought of removing the ',' to make the sentence flow and more sensible. But, ok, i will leave it as it is. - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 08:59, 20 June 2013 (CDT)

''female Chief Theresia explained with as bitter a look as possible'' --> ... a look that's as bitter as possible ...

* I don't want to use "that's" too much, as I've learned it's better to omit it when possible. If it's the word sentence that seems awkward/confusing I'd rather opt for: "an as bitter look as possible" or "a look as bitter as possible". --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 09:59, 19 June 2013 (CDT)

* ok, i will leave it as it is. - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 08:59, 20 June 2013 (CDT)

What do you think? - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 05:34, 19 June 2013 (CDT)
* Could you please explain what you think is wrong with the translation? Don't worry, I'm not offended, but English is not my mother language so I don't always see what's wrong with my wording. Does it sound awkward, is the sentence confusing, grammatically correct, does it portray the wrong meaning, etc... --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 09:59, 19 June 2013 (CDT)

* I don't see anything wrong with the original translations either. First one is correct, as the "of them" can be omitted. Second one is also correct, so I don't see any point in changing that. In fact, the original flows a lot better when the "that's" is omitted. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]] ([[User talk:Kiydon|talk]]) 13:38, 19 June 2013 (CDT)

* I see. The TL knows best! I just felt that leaving out words will sometimes leave the readers a sense of loss ( as I was lost for awhile ). But, reading it through, I guess it is plausible. - [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 08:59, 20 June 2013 (CDT)

'''Although Theresia herself would be accompanying the princess in order to look after her surroundings, of course ( even so ), for many people in Garbera, this would be ( their ) farewell''' Why even so? Sorry will not be able to give you solid explanations, but from what I can say, even if Theresia went with them, the people will still say their farewell. Also, was 'their' another omitted word?- [[User:Rukiabankai|Rukiabankai]] ([[User talk:Rukiabankai|talk]]) 09:12, 20 June 2013 (CDT)

*Uh, I'm not sure what you're saying for the even so part, since it's not actually on there. Also, "their" might or might not be an omitted word. The sentence can be read as "this would be farewell (for them)", which to me, flows a lot more naturally, as it leads directly into the next sentence.

:Also, I'm not sure that I agree with some of your edits. In "'It's outrageous that our Vileena, the third daughter of His Royal Highness and princess of Garbera, a country where we take pride in our chivalry, [have] to consent to a marriage with that monkey from Mephius!'", have is incorrect here. If you take out everything, you'll end up with "It's outrageous that our Vileena ... [has] to consent to a marriage with..."; Vileena is singular (has), not plural (have). For "Theresia softly laid her hand on that drawing [which] depicted her in a devilish manner", which is used incorrectly here, as you would either need a comma before it "Theresia softly laid her hand on that drawing, which depicted her in a devilish manner;", but there will be an odd space after the nonrestrictive clause, or replace it with a "that", which remains an essential part of the sentence. Sorry if that was wordy or confusing. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]] ([[User talk:Kiydon|talk]]) 02:11, 21 June 2013 (CDT)

User talk:Dohma

2013-06-19T18:45:57Z

Kiydon:

== Rakuin no Monshou ==

Thanks for creating the page and selecting this series for your learning. I have done some minor reformatting to the project page. The rest is very good.--[[User:Chancs|Chancs]] ([[User talk:Chancs|talk]]) 00:42, 25 January 2013 (CST)

I really want to read this novel from ages ago, but noone translate it. Thank you very much! [[User:Xenocross|Xenocross]] ([[User talk:Xenocross|talk]]) 23:29, 24 January 2013 (CST)

Thanks a Bunch bro, for picking up this series. I really can't thank you enough. I've been wanting to read this LN since I first found it one year ago. And now that you are here I'm really looking forward to your translations. Wish you best of luck. XD --[[User:Naavi|Naavi]] ([[User talk:Naavi|talk]]) 00:20, 25 January 2013 (CST)

Thank you for picking up this project! I've waited for so long to read Rakuin :3 [[User:ClavelSangrante|ClavelSangrante]] ([[User talk:ClavelSangrante|talk]])

No problem regarding the comments I gave you. I'm going to proofread things a bit if I get around to it -- just tell me when I'm getting to aggressive. All in all, I have to say: good work. [[User:EusthEnoptEron|EusthEnoptEron]] ([[User talk:EusthEnoptEron|talk]]) 19:16, 26 January 2013 (CST)

Thx for picking up the project, I will make sure to keep up with your latest updates ^^ [[User:LoliDragon|LoliDragon]] ([[User talk:LoliDragon|talk]])Tuesday, 12 February 2013, 10:29:09 CST

Hi, I have noticed that you are using the word: "[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rink rink]" where I think it should be ring. I have changed it, but if you think that is not correct, you can revert the changes.[[User:LoliDragon|LoliDragon]] ([[User talk:LoliDragon|talk]]) 24 January 2013,16:39 CST

Thank you for translating Rakuin no Monshou! keep up the great work! Mumalkatar

Thank you.. great reading so far :) ...
This novel is so great THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH FOR TRANSLATING

Thank for appeasing my hungry with such interesting series. Of course I love all series with royalty.#Waves: ClavelSangrate I see that we are always looking or working on the same series. I have taken the liberty to become an editor of this fine series. [[User:Tasear|Tasear]]

Love this story. Please continue to do a awesome job. -Travis

So far so good. Thank you for translating!

It is very good. Thank you for translating:)

Great job really like your translations! And thank you for picking up the project i hope to see more soon!

I really like this series! Thanks for taking the time to translate it. I'm interested in becoming an editor for this series, though I'm still figuring out how to, since I have never actually used Baka-Tsuki before. -[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

Thanks for your hard work!

I love the story so far and would like to contribute by becoming an editor. This is also my first time using Baka-Tsuki but I'll get good at it. English was my first language and I'm proficient at it -[[User: Shirofune|Shirofune]]

Well, since I just picked up Mismarca Koukoku Monogatari to translate, I'll have a lot less time to edit and proofread now. I still like this series a lot, so I'll definitely come help, especially in discussions and if I see major mistakes. Keep up the great work; I look forward to reading more of this series. If you have anything you're confused on, post it in the discussions and I'll help as much as I can. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]] ([[User talk:Kiydon|talk]]) 13:45, 19 June 2013 (CDT)

User:Kiydon

2013-06-19T18:41:34Z

Kiydon:

I'm new to this site, but I've actually read through pretty much all the works translated/hosted here.

My email is at kiyoshi9565@gmail.com.

Currently translator of Mismarca Koukoku Monogatari on C.E. Translations. Also currently editor/proofreader for Rakuin no Monshou on Baka-Tsuki, and for Sayonara Piano Sonata on C.E. Translations.

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Prologue

2013-06-19T18:39:46Z

Kiydon:

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Prologue

2013-06-19T18:38:57Z

Kiydon:

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Prologue

2013-06-19T18:38:42Z

Kiydon:

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Prologue

2013-06-19T18:37:37Z

Kiydon:

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-10T02:06:08Z

Kiydon:

Splendid work at 4 percent! -([[User talk:Tasear|talk]])

Cleaned this page up a bit; removed resolved issues. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:51, 31 May 2013 (CDT)

<hr />

In "What… a lie?" A suggest would be to change it to "What...is a lie?", since in the raw it says （何が、嘘、だ).
* I find Orba's entire comment puzzling, because he knows he's lying, so what is he surprised about? I assume he's surprised about the fact she accused him for a liar. So I translated into something like : "What? A lie?". Your translation is indeed closer to the original, but it makes me wonder what Orba means by it.
* I think what Orba means is that he is surprised by Vileena calling him out on lying, since they were unfamiliar, and also of high rank, and probably shouldn't be using casual language.

"During that staggering time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena." "Staggering time" sounds really awkward here; I know that in the raw it says よろめいたその間, so I'm not sure what suggestions that I can make other than that it sounds awkward.
* From what I get it's supposed to either mean: "during that lapse in time" or "during the time (where he was) staggering" due to the tremors, I translated it a bit more literally because I can't quite figure out which one it's supposed to be.
:* Okay, the issue still bothers me so I've decided to change it to "during that lapse in time". Sounds better. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 07:13, 31 May 2013 (CDT)

”The moment he removed his aim”, about this part, 狙いの外したその瞬間, its rather hard to translate. Perhaps the soldier stopped aiming at the dragon?
* 狙いの外した can also mean he missed the mark, so I'm not quite sure if he took a shot and missed or if he stopped aiming, so I translated it literally.
*I see. It's good then, since I'm not really sure what is being said there as well.

Sorry about that mountain of suggestions! Really nice translation as normal, keep up the great work! Also, my bad on the changing the "wilfully" part (both the first and the second time), didn't know that the British English had a different version, and don't know what happened the second time (I think I had the page open before you edited it, and didn't save until afterwards). --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]].
* No problem, thanks for checking the text. --C ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:00, 19 May 2013 (CDT)

<hr />

A very fluent read at 45 percent. I will keep checking but I didn't notice any obvious errors. Thanks again for your hard work - ([[User talk:Tasear|talk]])

....but now you seem to smile, thinking of something pleasant.

"thinking of something pleasant" seems awkward in the context. What is suppose to be said here in this area.

*Vileena is commenting on Orba smiling in what she perceives to be him thinking of happy things and smiling. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
*Indeed: 幸せそうな思い出し笑い - He smiles as if he's thinking (back) on / recalling something pleasant. If it sounds awkward it can be changed to: "... but now you seem to smile, ''as if you're'' thinking of something pleasant." but I didn't want to make the sentence too long.
<hr />

Going through the newer section; found a few minor mistakes that I'll fix, and a few suggestions as well.

"She was unable to say a word, as it became a lump of saliva caught in her throat." I suggest changing it to "She was unable to say a word, as a lump of saliva was caught in her throat", to fix various issues.
:*The impression I got from the original phrasing was that it was an intentional figurative expression that the "word... became a lump of saliva," which is lost in the above proposed change. If that expression was intentional, then my a bit more liberal suggestion to include it is "Her words caught (or maybe 'stuck') in her throat as a lump of saliva, and she was unable to say a thing." --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 18:19, 1 June 2013 (CDT)
*What I was referring here was that it didn't make much sense for a word to become a lump of saliva. The raw actually says nothing about "a word", as it says 「声を出したつもりが、しかし唾の塊となって喉に引っかかっただけだった。」, which basically translates to "She meant to speak, but a lump of saliva formed(?) and was stuck in her throat." What is confusing here is the なって (to become) after 唾の塊　(lump of saliva), because there really isn't something that can "form into" a lump of saliva. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
:*I agree that it doesn't make sense for the word to literally become a lump of saliva, but I consider it a reasonable figurative expression. One again, I think it's merely a difference of opinion/perspective. Though I have no idea if that expression is consistent with the correct interpretation of the JP. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 20:06, 2 June 2013 (CDT)
:* I mistakenly made a typo in the first part as 声を出したとむりが, which would mean she was unable to speak, so that's my mistake. The raw does say that she 'intended to speak/use her voice' but what she was trying to say 'became a lump of saliva'. However, if that sounds strange in English we can dismiss the entire 'became' part. A suggestion would be: "She meant to speak, but it got caught in her throat as a lump of saliva" (its closer to the original) or "She meant to speak, but a lump of saliva got caught in her throat." The problem is whether we want to keep it as close to the original as possible or just keep it simple. A dilemma that seems to be coming up again and again while translating :). If the first suggestion still feels awkward, we can go with the last. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 05:56, 3 June 2013 (CDT)
::* I feel like that the second sounds better, so I'll vote for going with keeping it simple and making it flow better. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
::*I agree that the second sounds better; in this case because "it" in the second part of the first option doesn't have a noun (such"her word(s)") in the first part to reference to. In general, the figurative expression of a word or words becoming a lump of saliva seems perfectly natural from my perspective. However, it certainly isn't necessary to do use a figurative expression that way if you're not trying to match an equivalent type of expression in the original jp. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 21:08, 3 June 2013 (CDT)

"Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can stand in arms cooperate." I think that something along the lines of "Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can fight assist us" would be a better translation for (ゴーウィンにも伝えて、何人か腕の立つ者に協力させろ）, as though the current one is an accurate translation, it doesn't make much sense in English.
* I thought someone who can 'stand in arms' was something in the lines of someone who can 'carry a weapon'. Basically 腕の立つ is an Japanese idiom/expression of someone who is skilled/able to do something (in this case fight). Whenever an expression is used, I also like to use some sort of expression. I do prefer 協力 to be translated as 'cooperate' instead of 'assist' though [http://ejje.weblio.jp/content/%E5%8D%94%E5%8A%9B], mainly due to the nature of the separate kanji meanings, or 'lend a hand'. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 05:56, 3 June 2013 (CDT)
:: I changed it to "Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can fight lend a hand."

"While making sure to guard his back...", I think what is meant here is that Orba is taking care not to expose his back too much, rather than guarding his back, since he's hiding from the sniper.
* You're right about the fact that it means he doesn't want to expose himself too much that his back gets out of hiding. That's why I chose 'guard', but "While making sure not to expose his back" or "While making sure to watch his back" is probably better. I'll mull over it for a while...

"'''We'' don’t know either. But it’s going well.'" is a good translation of わからんよ、おれたちにも。だが、都合はいいな, so it's fine.
* Ok, thanks - I'll remove the TN.

"With the thought that Vileena was in the hidden passage all alone, it was likely that the soldiers who had guided Orba here were involved with the dragon rampage and the sniping at Prince Gil". I feel that "at Prince Gil" is unnecessary here, and just makes the sentence more awkward.
* I can't deny that it sounds strange, but that's what the raw says, sort of like 'the attack on the prince', so I left it there. I'll omit it, though, because its a bit unnecessary as the reader knows Orba is substituting Gil.

Good job translating once again, as this section was a pretty smooth read! --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

Bringing up [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Rakuin_no_Monshou:Volume1_Chapter4&diff=256057&oldid=255840 this recent change] for a little review: I think that both are correct grammatically. I would say the meaning implied by the original phrasing of "rolled over the ground and ..." is that the motion of rolling was done to travel distance. The new phrasing of "rolled over on the ground" changes the focus of the statement to the change in orientation (face-down to face-up), and somewhat implies it was a single roll. Since that motion is followed by "snatched a gun," I would have guessed that the intended focus was on the getting from one place to the other; and if that's the case, the most appropriate version might depend on the number of rolls, but I would have favored the original phrasing at first glance. I have no idea about the original, just bringing it up for a second look. (sigh, that's a lot of words for just two letters...) --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 18:19, 1 June 2013 (CDT)

*Rolled over the ground implies that Vileena is rolling over "the ground", since, which I highly doubt she has the ability to do so. Rolled over "on" the ground would mean that she is the one rolling, not the ground. The lack of a preposition changes the meaning of the phrase. I'm not sure if I explained that right, though. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:-I think I see where you're coming from now, but I still think the original wording is valid and may be more appropriate depending on the intended meaning. I hadn't considered it, but from what I understand you have parsed the sentence as [Vileena] [nimbly] [rolled over] (on) [the ground]. The intuitive interpretation for me was [Vileena] [nimbly] [rolled] [over the ground], where "over" was part of the description of where Vileena was doing the rolling instead of being paired with the verb. At this point I think it's merely a difference in perspective and probably doesn't warrant additional discussion (if it even warranted my starting the discussion to begin with). --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 23:58, 1 June 2013 (CDT)

*I see what you mean. I see "the ground" as an object, because "over" seems to be actually a bit important to the sentence. If you take out "over the ground", you'll be left with "Vileena nimbly rolled [] and snatched a gun from the waist of a soldier", versus taking out "on the ground" and "Vileena nimbly rolled over [] and snatched a gun from the waist of a soldier". Personally, I think the second sounds better, though again your view is not incorrect either. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:* I'm not going to decide on this discussion, since it seems to be dedicated to the nuances of English, and I honestly don't know which is better. What I can ''add'' though is that in this sentence　地面を転がって 'the ground' is the direct object (due to the particle を) and 'to roll (over)' is the verb. That's my dictionary entry: 'roll (over)' [http://ejje.weblio.jp/content/%E8%BB%A2%E3%81%8C%E3%82%8B], but I don't really know when you have to add 'over'. So in that case I see where Kiydon's coming from because Vileena can't 'roll the ground'. On the other hand, if it was 'on the ground' the particle に would have been used (地面に転がって), making it an indirect object or passive agent. I hope I'm making some sense.
:: So, is '[roll over] [the ground]' the same as '[roll] [the ground]', or is it '[roll] [over the ground]' which is the same as '[roll] [on the ground]'? This issue kind of intrigues me so I'd like to know which one's correct. I'll leave you two to make a decision and stand by whatever you decide is best.
:: If you want ''me'' to make a pick an option though, I will. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 05:56, 3 June 2013 (CDT)

:::* Grammatically, both are correct, as far as I know. In [roll over], over acts as a preposition to [the ground], indicating that the ground is being [rolled], though in a different sense than in [roll] [over the ground], which is indicating that a rolling action is being performed over the ground. It really depends on the context, but it does seem to me confusing sometimes. It didn't bother me that much on a second read-through, so it's not really that big of a deal, since I didn't really find anything that pointed things in one way or another. Keeping it as it is is fine, so it's up to you if you want to change it. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:::*I agree with the above. Both uses fit the context in this case. Though if the dictionary translation was "roll over", then it may be more appropriate with the "on" in there. Though it probably isn't a big enough deal to have generated all this discussion either way. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 21:08, 3 June 2013 (CDT)

:::*Then I'll keep it as is. And it's true that it's not such a big deal, but when you put a bunch of language enthusiasts together, you're bound to get a discussion. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 04:05, 4 June 2013 (CDT)

<hr />

I just proofed over this section, and here are my notes on the part you wanted to double-check.

This sentence, "'This man may be involved in a country-wide conspiracy.'" is fine.

The second sentence I'm not so sure about, "'He most likely exchanged words with someone else, right?'". In the raw, it says 大方、何者かに利用された口だろう, which I take to roughly mean "Perhaps he was used by someone".

I think that "'He seems to be responsible for hiring these people from someone without knowing a thing, but he can’t say from whom.'" is incorrect. In the raw, it says 何も知らずこの者たちを雇ったメフィウス側の人間にも責任があると思え。誰と言わぬがな。, which I would translate to "Hiring these people without knowing anything about them, the people from Mephius have some responsibility for what happened, I think. No one can really tell right now.". Maybe you meant to use this sentence as part of the previous one?

"'Don’t you dare forsake your responsibilities and execute even one of these sword-slaves without permission. I’ll have his head – I’ll take it off with my own sword!'" In the raw, it says もし責任を押しつけ、剣奴のひとりでも勝手に処刑してみろ。そいつの首こそ、おれの――余の剣で、撥ねてやるぞ, which I would translate to "If anyone forces responsibility on, and arbitrarily execute any of these sword-slaves, then by my――no, our (majestic plural) sword, I will have his head!".

These are my takes on the translations for this part. The other parts are fine. Good job and thanks for the translation once again! --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]].

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-10T02:05:38Z

Kiydon:

Splendid work at 4 percent! -([[User talk:Tasear|talk]])

Cleaned this page up a bit; removed resolved issues. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:51, 31 May 2013 (CDT)

<hr />

In "What… a lie?" A suggest would be to change it to "What...is a lie?", since in the raw it says （何が、嘘、だ).
* I find Orba's entire comment puzzling, because he knows he's lying, so what is he surprised about? I assume he's surprised about the fact she accused him for a liar. So I translated into something like : "What? A lie?". Your translation is indeed closer to the original, but it makes me wonder what Orba means by it.
* I think what Orba means is that he is surprised by Vileena calling him out on lying, since they were unfamiliar, and also of high rank, and probably shouldn't be using casual language.

"During that staggering time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena." "Staggering time" sounds really awkward here; I know that in the raw it says よろめいたその間, so I'm not sure what suggestions that I can make other than that it sounds awkward.
* From what I get it's supposed to either mean: "during that lapse in time" or "during the time (where he was) staggering" due to the tremors, I translated it a bit more literally because I can't quite figure out which one it's supposed to be.
:* Okay, the issue still bothers me so I've decided to change it to "during that lapse in time". Sounds better. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 07:13, 31 May 2013 (CDT)

”The moment he removed his aim”, about this part, 狙いの外したその瞬間, its rather hard to translate. Perhaps the soldier stopped aiming at the dragon?
* 狙いの外した can also mean he missed the mark, so I'm not quite sure if he took a shot and missed or if he stopped aiming, so I translated it literally.
*I see. It's good then, since I'm not really sure what is being said there as well.

Sorry about that mountain of suggestions! Really nice translation as normal, keep up the great work! Also, my bad on the changing the "wilfully" part (both the first and the second time), didn't know that the British English had a different version, and don't know what happened the second time (I think I had the page open before you edited it, and didn't save until afterwards). --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]].
* No problem, thanks for checking the text. --C ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:00, 19 May 2013 (CDT)

<hr />

A very fluent read at 45 percent. I will keep checking but I didn't notice any obvious errors. Thanks again for your hard work - ([[User talk:Tasear|talk]])

....but now you seem to smile, thinking of something pleasant.

"thinking of something pleasant" seems awkward in the context. What is suppose to be said here in this area.

*Vileena is commenting on Orba smiling in what she perceives to be him thinking of happy things and smiling. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
*Indeed: 幸せそうな思い出し笑い - He smiles as if he's thinking (back) on / recalling something pleasant. If it sounds awkward it can be changed to: "... but now you seem to smile, ''as if you're'' thinking of something pleasant." but I didn't want to make the sentence too long.
<hr />

Going through the newer section; found a few minor mistakes that I'll fix, and a few suggestions as well.

"She was unable to say a word, as it became a lump of saliva caught in her throat." I suggest changing it to "She was unable to say a word, as a lump of saliva was caught in her throat", to fix various issues.
:*The impression I got from the original phrasing was that it was an intentional figurative expression that the "word... became a lump of saliva," which is lost in the above proposed change. If that expression was intentional, then my a bit more liberal suggestion to include it is "Her words caught (or maybe 'stuck') in her throat as a lump of saliva, and she was unable to say a thing." --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 18:19, 1 June 2013 (CDT)
*What I was referring here was that it didn't make much sense for a word to become a lump of saliva. The raw actually says nothing about "a word", as it says 「声を出したつもりが、しかし唾の塊となって喉に引っかかっただけだった。」, which basically translates to "She meant to speak, but a lump of saliva formed(?) and was stuck in her throat." What is confusing here is the なって (to become) after 唾の塊　(lump of saliva), because there really isn't something that can "form into" a lump of saliva. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
:*I agree that it doesn't make sense for the word to literally become a lump of saliva, but I consider it a reasonable figurative expression. One again, I think it's merely a difference of opinion/perspective. Though I have no idea if that expression is consistent with the correct interpretation of the JP. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 20:06, 2 June 2013 (CDT)
:* I mistakenly made a typo in the first part as 声を出したとむりが, which would mean she was unable to speak, so that's my mistake. The raw does say that she 'intended to speak/use her voice' but what she was trying to say 'became a lump of saliva'. However, if that sounds strange in English we can dismiss the entire 'became' part. A suggestion would be: "She meant to speak, but it got caught in her throat as a lump of saliva" (its closer to the original) or "She meant to speak, but a lump of saliva got caught in her throat." The problem is whether we want to keep it as close to the original as possible or just keep it simple. A dilemma that seems to be coming up again and again while translating :). If the first suggestion still feels awkward, we can go with the last. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 05:56, 3 June 2013 (CDT)
::* I feel like that the second sounds better, so I'll vote for going with keeping it simple and making it flow better. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
::*I agree that the second sounds better; in this case because "it" in the second part of the first option doesn't have a noun (such"her word(s)") in the first part to reference to. In general, the figurative expression of a word or words becoming a lump of saliva seems perfectly natural from my perspective. However, it certainly isn't necessary to do use a figurative expression that way if you're not trying to match an equivalent type of expression in the original jp. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 21:08, 3 June 2013 (CDT)

"Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can stand in arms cooperate." I think that something along the lines of "Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can fight assist us" would be a better translation for (ゴーウィンにも伝えて、何人か腕の立つ者に協力させろ）, as though the current one is an accurate translation, it doesn't make much sense in English.
* I thought someone who can 'stand in arms' was something in the lines of someone who can 'carry a weapon'. Basically 腕の立つ is an Japanese idiom/expression of someone who is skilled/able to do something (in this case fight). Whenever an expression is used, I also like to use some sort of expression. I do prefer 協力 to be translated as 'cooperate' instead of 'assist' though [http://ejje.weblio.jp/content/%E5%8D%94%E5%8A%9B], mainly due to the nature of the separate kanji meanings, or 'lend a hand'. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 05:56, 3 June 2013 (CDT)
:: I changed it to "Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can fight lend a hand."

"While making sure to guard his back...", I think what is meant here is that Orba is taking care not to expose his back too much, rather than guarding his back, since he's hiding from the sniper.
* You're right about the fact that it means he doesn't want to expose himself too much that his back gets out of hiding. That's why I chose 'guard', but "While making sure not to expose his back" or "While making sure to watch his back" is probably better. I'll mull over it for a while...

"'''We'' don’t know either. But it’s going well.'" is a good translation of わからんよ、おれたちにも。だが、都合はいいな, so it's fine.
* Ok, thanks - I'll remove the TN.

"With the thought that Vileena was in the hidden passage all alone, it was likely that the soldiers who had guided Orba here were involved with the dragon rampage and the sniping at Prince Gil". I feel that "at Prince Gil" is unnecessary here, and just makes the sentence more awkward.
* I can't deny that it sounds strange, but that's what the raw says, sort of like 'the attack on the prince', so I left it there. I'll omit it, though, because its a bit unnecessary as the reader knows Orba is substituting Gil.

Good job translating once again, as this section was a pretty smooth read! --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

Bringing up [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Rakuin_no_Monshou:Volume1_Chapter4&diff=256057&oldid=255840 this recent change] for a little review: I think that both are correct grammatically. I would say the meaning implied by the original phrasing of "rolled over the ground and ..." is that the motion of rolling was done to travel distance. The new phrasing of "rolled over on the ground" changes the focus of the statement to the change in orientation (face-down to face-up), and somewhat implies it was a single roll. Since that motion is followed by "snatched a gun," I would have guessed that the intended focus was on the getting from one place to the other; and if that's the case, the most appropriate version might depend on the number of rolls, but I would have favored the original phrasing at first glance. I have no idea about the original, just bringing it up for a second look. (sigh, that's a lot of words for just two letters...) --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 18:19, 1 June 2013 (CDT)

*Rolled over the ground implies that Vileena is rolling over "the ground", since, which I highly doubt she has the ability to do so. Rolled over "on" the ground would mean that she is the one rolling, not the ground. The lack of a preposition changes the meaning of the phrase. I'm not sure if I explained that right, though. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:-I think I see where you're coming from now, but I still think the original wording is valid and may be more appropriate depending on the intended meaning. I hadn't considered it, but from what I understand you have parsed the sentence as [Vileena] [nimbly] [rolled over] (on) [the ground]. The intuitive interpretation for me was [Vileena] [nimbly] [rolled] [over the ground], where "over" was part of the description of where Vileena was doing the rolling instead of being paired with the verb. At this point I think it's merely a difference in perspective and probably doesn't warrant additional discussion (if it even warranted my starting the discussion to begin with). --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 23:58, 1 June 2013 (CDT)

*I see what you mean. I see "the ground" as an object, because "over" seems to be actually a bit important to the sentence. If you take out "over the ground", you'll be left with "Vileena nimbly rolled [] and snatched a gun from the waist of a soldier", versus taking out "on the ground" and "Vileena nimbly rolled over [] and snatched a gun from the waist of a soldier". Personally, I think the second sounds better, though again your view is not incorrect either. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:* I'm not going to decide on this discussion, since it seems to be dedicated to the nuances of English, and I honestly don't know which is better. What I can ''add'' though is that in this sentence　地面を転がって 'the ground' is the direct object (due to the particle を) and 'to roll (over)' is the verb. That's my dictionary entry: 'roll (over)' [http://ejje.weblio.jp/content/%E8%BB%A2%E3%81%8C%E3%82%8B], but I don't really know when you have to add 'over'. So in that case I see where Kiydon's coming from because Vileena can't 'roll the ground'. On the other hand, if it was 'on the ground' the particle に would have been used (地面に転がって), making it an indirect object or passive agent. I hope I'm making some sense.
:: So, is '[roll over] [the ground]' the same as '[roll] [the ground]', or is it '[roll] [over the ground]' which is the same as '[roll] [on the ground]'? This issue kind of intrigues me so I'd like to know which one's correct. I'll leave you two to make a decision and stand by whatever you decide is best.
:: If you want ''me'' to make a pick an option though, I will. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 05:56, 3 June 2013 (CDT)

:::* Grammatically, both are correct, as far as I know. In [roll over], over acts as a preposition to [the ground], indicating that the ground is being [rolled], though in a different sense than in [roll] [over the ground], which is indicating that a rolling action is being performed over the ground. It really depends on the context, but it does seem to me confusing sometimes. It didn't bother me that much on a second read-through, so it's not really that big of a deal, since I didn't really find anything that pointed things in one way or another. Keeping it as it is is fine, so it's up to you if you want to change it. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:::*I agree with the above. Both uses fit the context in this case. Though if the dictionary translation was "roll over", then it may be more appropriate with the "on" in there. Though it probably isn't a big enough deal to have generated all this discussion either way. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 21:08, 3 June 2013 (CDT)

:::*Then I'll keep it as is. And it's true that it's not such a big deal, but when you put a bunch of language enthusiasts together, you're bound to get a discussion. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 04:05, 4 June 2013 (CDT)

<hr />

I just proofed over this section, and here are my notes on the part you wanted to double-check.

This part, "'This man may be involved in a country-wide conspiracy.'" is fine.

The second sentence I'm not so sure about, "'He most likely exchanged words with someone else, right?'". In the raw, it says 大方、何者かに利用された口だろう, which I take to roughly mean "Perhaps he was used by someone".

I think that "'He seems to be responsible for hiring these people from someone without knowing a thing, but he can’t say from whom.'" is incorrect. In the raw, it says 何も知らずこの者たちを雇ったメフィウス側の人間にも責任があると思え。誰と言わぬがな。, which I would translate to "Hiring these people without knowing anything about them, the people from Mephius have some responsibility for what happened, I think. No one can really tell right now.". Maybe you meant to use this sentence as part of the previous one?

"'Don’t you dare forsake your responsibilities and execute even one of these sword-slaves without permission. I’ll have his head – I’ll take it off with my own sword!'" In the raw, it says もし責任を押しつけ、剣奴のひとりでも勝手に処刑してみろ。そいつの首こそ、おれの――余の剣で、撥ねてやるぞ, which I would translate to "If anyone forces responsibility on, and arbitrarily execute any of these sword-slaves, then by my――no, our (majestic plural) sword, I will have his head!".

These are my takes on the translations for this part. The other parts are fine. Good job and thanks for the translation once again! --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]].

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-10T01:31:51Z

Kiydon: Idiom correction and some other corrections.

{{Incomplete|percentage=56}}
== Chapter 4: At Seirin Valley ==

=== Part 1 ===

As far as Simon Rodloom was concerned, Fedom, the Lord of Birac, showed no signs of a change of heart.

Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to strengthening of the Imperial household’s authority, Simon was still a leading aristocrat. He grasped the movements of the other nobles to some extent, their principles and claims, and also intended to understand their situation.

According to Simon’s insights, Fedom was clearly one of the anti-imperial faction.

He had persuaded the emperor, who actually wanted to continue the war with Garbera, and as the leader of the group promoting the peace negotiations, he had built up support for himself amongst the Imperial Court. Although, for a leader, his slight wisdom was partly insufficient, he was much better compared to the other group of corrupted nobles.

However, that Fedom was definitely acting strange. Since last night’s party – no, ever since they headed out for Seirin Valley – he had for some reason been sticking close to Prince Gil, just like a wet nurse poking her nose into people’s business here and there.

''Did he say he’d educate the prince, just to raise him into a puppet doing his will?''

That thought passed through his mind, but wasn’t it a little too late to take such actions now?

Incidentally, it was also related to the prince himself. As far as he knew, Prince Gil and Fedom should have hardly exchanged any words. When the prince hung around with his young friends, Simon had always heard him call the man ‘that manipulative wannabe swine’ behind his back.

How come he seemed to generously accept Fedom’s sudden intimacy or – even worse – seemed to rely on him?

Aside from making sure by meeting with the prince in private, there was a lot of work left for Simon. A delegation from the Principality of Ende had also rushed in for congratulations, although it was unusual that they decided to only a week ago. At first, there had also been talks of Ende and Garbera forming a bond by engaging royal partners, but it had probably been just one of the many things Ende and Garbera had in mind. Simon was pressed to welcome them.

But somewhere else,

“That ungrateful bastard, Orba!”

It was Tarkas, rudely snorting and prowling about in the room.

Even if he’d come over so abruptly, when he thought of the Mephius’ nobleman Fedom’s sudden visit, why had he bought Orba without asking for consent?

“The one who raised him was me! Shit, he was just about to earn his pay as a working swordsman, when of all things he had to be snatched away by some noble…!”

“We do not understand it either, though.”

He had summoned Shique, Gowen and Gilliam, his main swordsmen, at a private room inside the cliffs, established for Tarkas’s use. They were here because he had to change the pairings of the competition due to Orba’s sudden departure.

“So why was it decided that Orba had to suddenly be pulled out? Although that kid may be a good swordsman, he was the so-called spearhead of the games to celebrate the wedding. If he simply wanted to purchase Orba for his abilities, I think they should’ve made him participate in the fights.”

“I would also like to know – that shithead!” Tarkas said. “Even though he was bought by a noble, he could've at least offered himself up for the last battle as a favour. That son of a bitch!”

“Maybe it’s because we were supposed to kill each other. I’ll surely celebrate his new life, but I can’t get used to this feeling, and I’m bothered about him leaving without a single word.”

“Oh, Gilliam. Does even a man like you get lonely when one of his acquaintances leaves?”

“Shut it, Shique! I just regret that I haven’t settled things with that guy!”

“Well, it can’t be helped that he isn’t here. Let’s consider making some exciting pairings,” Gowen said in order to calm everyone down.

Naturally, he also felt a bit strange lately.

He had no time to figure out what had happened. He had to take a look at the condition of the newcomers Tarkas had bought, and because this was different from the usual procedure, he also had to review every single swordsman.

However, something that faintly weighed on Gowen’s mind was whether Orba, who had been looking forward to a future even when his mind and body got beaten down, was now living in that very same future.

While people were busily moving about around him, former gladiator Orba seemed to have time to spare, being practically left on his own.
Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered the words to him, like ventriloquism.

''It’s strange...''

These nobles had snatched away his brother to be a soldier. Not only had they abandoned their village but, of all things, the nobility had aimed its blades at its own citizens and had taken Alice away, causing him to fall into a life of slavery and making him wear that mask.

It might be because of a whim of fate, but none other than one of those Mephian nobles suddenly plucked Orba out of his life of slavery and ordered him to become a substitute for one of leading figures in the imperial family.

Theft, extortion and illegal gun trading – having lived off sipping water from the gutter, he couldn’t help but think he was a laughingstock for the crown prince. Although the fact that he still didn’t know what another day might bring was similar to being a slave.

However – being on the other side of those black plastered streets – perhaps now he could expect to find one spot, yes, just one spot of light. When he becomes the prince’s body double, he’ll have the opportunity to come in contact with leading figures, other than Fedom of course. It wouldn’t be so strange to find the one who burned down his village – General Oubary – among them.

Although Orba had been hit on his head back then and had only seen him for a moment with a dazed glance, for all those two years he’d been a sword-slave, he hadn’t forgotten his face for even a day. Even now it vividly came back to him in his mind.

“Gil-sama.”

''If we meet again.''

''I wonder what I should do then.''

The boy swordsman, who had his mask removed, continued sinking in ceaseless thoughts. He would think of a way to give the guy the most miserable death possible, as long as it was conceivable in this world. Besides, if he was able to meet up with Oubary, he could trace back the lines to the time he got separated from Alice and his mother. Also, although he himself did not expect too much of it – for he couldn’t wish for the unimaginable over and over again and virtually hope for a miracle – if he found other people recruited as soldiers by Oubary, they might know something about his brother Roan’s whereabouts.

“Gil-sama, Prince. Prince Gil!”

“Eh?”

Being spoken to in such a firm voice, Orba looked to his side.

Princess Vileena was sitting at a distance not too far from him. She was in front of the altar, at the place where the valley was at its deepest, looking out over the area. Only Vileena and Orba were sitting in chairs, with a stalwart group of soldiers surroundings them, while at the front of the altar, priests were chanting hymns of prayer and blessing.

“What is it you’re thinking of?”

“Nothing,” Orba replied curtly.

It wasn’t possible for Fedom to be around him during the ceremony, so he’d told him to ‘say nothing’ in the meantime. Turning his face forward, he pretended to be concentrating on the ceremony.

“That’s a lie,” Vileena decided, also in a curt manner.

''What…? A lie?''

The timing was so excellent that Orba couldn’t ignore it, and he again gave the princess of the Kingdom of Garbera a glance.

She was again wearing a dress, but a different one from yesterday’s party, and she wore an informal tiara on her head. This close, it surprised him. Although she seemed like only a little girl the first time they met face to face, when she turned aside with a serious look every once in a while, she looked really mature.

He wondered if it was because of her clear-cut features, although Orba thought her face looked much like a doll’s. At the moment, except for being from a different birth, she seemed almost the same as Orba. Only moving when told to, and only speaking when told to by someone else.

Indeed, when he thought about it, that was what this wedding was all about. Even though she was only fourteen years old, in contrast to her true wishes, she has to become the wife of a man she only first met yesterday, and was of a former enemy country to boot. Although he couldn’t get himself to feel sympathy for someone like her, who was born in a royal family, she seemed to have various hardships of her own as well.

''So, it’s the same for everyone.''

He suddenly remembered that voice.

''– Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. Everybody longs for a world they don’t know, and pursue a meaning in life for which they’ve been born – even if he’s a priest, or royalty.''

''It was just like Roan said'', Orba groaned deep inside.

“You really ''are'' lost in thought.”

When she once again spoke to him out of the blue, Orba impolitely replied with the words,

“So what?”

Vileena chuckled.

“For quite a while, I thought you had frightening eyes at times, but now you seem to smile, thinking of something pleasant. Please tell me, you who are about to become my husband – what is it that troubles you on such a fine day, and what on earth is this matter you can’t help but remember?”

The ceremony went on. They had grilled a dragon they just killed this morning, and while they scattered the bones across the base of the valley, the priests chanted their prayers. They called for the souls of the dragons that once ruled this planet to protect the country’s prosperity.

“Could it be that the Ryuujin, if they come back, may not necessarily give this place their blessings?”

Back when humankind landed on this planet, the dragons only roamed the fields and thought of nothing but filling their stomachs, in short, they had degenerated to being on the same level as beasts.

However, they excavated the ruins of enormous cities and artefacts of unknown purpose here and there on the planet, and there also seemed to be traces of a magical civilization that possibly used some form of ''ether''<ref>It's called 'ether', but the author uses the characters for 'Elementary' and 'Magic'</ref>. Humankind was able to wield their first ‘magic’, Zodias, after a while, and this blessing of wisdom was said to have all been obtained from these dragons’ ruins. It was believed that the ancient dragons formed the intelligent body that once governed this planet, probably thousands of years before humankind ultimately arrived.

The custom to call those dragons of old ‘Dragon Gods’ or ‘Ryuujin’ was particularly Mephian, and there was a time it was the religious faith in all of the country. Although it’s now a mere shadow of its former self, for important rituals like these, the priest who presided over the ceremony was selected and summoned from one of the tribes of nomads living in the area near the Mephian border, where the roots of the Ryuujin Faith lay.

“Like I said, it’s nothing.”

Again, Orba briefly ended the conversation.

He had received a brief explanation from the page, Dinn, concerning the history of the Ryuujin Faith, but naturally he didn’t feel too strongly about it. So, he wasn’t able to tell whether Vileena had been joking or not.

''If the real prince’s and this girl’s relations grows awkward after this, I won’t be taking responsibility for it, Fedom-sama.''

On the other hand, Vileena finally gave a sigh, getting lost in her own thoughts. For Garbera, the dragons having a civilization equal to or greater than that of the humans in the past was viewed upon as nothing more than a ‘dragon god’ legend. Therefore she could not experience this ceremony as something sacred. And although she had gotten carelessly and completely bored, when she glanced at the person next to her, Prince Gil – the one who would become her husband when this ceremony was finally over – she couldn’t help but be distracted. So, to slightly stave off her boredom, she tried to tease him a little. But, possibly revealing his ‘true character’, although she tried her best to look like a lady, the prince was genuinely blunt. Not only that, his brief way of talking really got on her nerves.

She wondered if it was because he was embarrassed. During last night’s party, she hadn’t caught wind of his behaviour being resentful against women either. But when she thought he might be a bit like Ryucown, Vileena felt offended by herself. There was no way the bravest general of Garbera resembled someone who was rumoured to be a complete ‘retard’ here in Mephius.

''In any case, this is the same thing as war. To fool the enemy, I have to keep up the pace in this place.''

Vileena maintained her smile, pretending not to be offended. She hoped the prince would fall madly in love with her. However, if he had some sort of love affair with a distant girl, well, she didn’t know whether or not it would be the result. Anyway, it wouldn’t be a problem if she kept smiling.

''Grandfather also told me that he loved my smiling face above all. So in that case, I shouldn’t be mistaken.''

The priests’ tedious prayers would be over soon, and then the sword-slave battles would finally take place.

It was said to be part of the ceremony that, when the dragon bones have turned to ash and are poured over the ground, the lifeblood of men is given. Nevertheless, what they did was hardly any different from your everyday gladiator battles. The only difference was that the introductory remarks were slightly more formal than usual. The arena, a levelled ground at the bottom of the valley with only some pillars staked into the earth, was even simpler than the usual.

There, the gladiators were standing in rows to the east and west sides. Orba recognized Tarkas, Gowen, and a lot of other faces he knew, and an unusually boyish smile appeared on his face.

''I doubt those guys would even imagine I’m right here.''

Although Tarkas was probably furious about him having left so suddenly, exactly because it happened so soon, it wouldn’t occur to him that he’d be looking down from such a high position.

Vileena, on the other hand, despite having been informed of this earlier, was looking on with gloomy thoughts about slaves having to kill each other hereafter. There was no slavery in Garbera, which was the main reason they spoke ill of Mephius as a country of barbarians.

''Unsatisfied with the war, have they wilfully made a show of looking down on slaves and forcing them to kill each other?''

When the divination was over, the first group of people stepped forward. The movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, but perhaps it was because of the unfamiliar environment up until the end of the first round, namely, until the loser was turned into a sprawled corpse on the ground.

In Garbera and Ende, with restrictions on slave companies active in the entertainment industry, there wasn’t an opportunity to see a gladiator fight. So, although the envoys had been prejudiced at first, and although it looked like they might have been enraged as the sound of clashing swords ran about, before long, they ended up bending over the stands, clenching their fists tight, giving cheers along with the people of Mephius, and started giving their applause.

Vileena soon got sick of it. Then, thinking of His Lordship, she again peeked to her side. When she saw a huge, grinning smile on his face, Vileena again felt a renewed disappointment appear. No matter how she looked at it, he clearly enjoyed seeing them kill each other from the bottom of his heart. She had assumed that he would like it, but not to this extent.

Suddenly, she was no longer able to restrain her feelings. The once disdainful feelings for her partner had turned into emotional disgust. It all happened so sudden, and she herself was actually quite perplexed. She was again reminded of how she, until just now, had to constantly try to subdue her emotions. Even though she was the princess of a country who had said she would give priority to her own nation before herself, she was only fourteen years old.

''I can’t, I can’t!''

Vileena strongly clutched her fists in her lap.

''This, too, is a battle. This, too, is a trail, Vileena. My body was given a push in the back and sent forward. I can’t let my spirit lose its strength like this.''

Shique stepped forward at the arena. The cheers concentrated on this unique gladiator, with a decadent white-painted face. Looking at his opponent, however… Orba raised his eyebrows.

''He’s…''

For some reason, it was one of the newcomers Tarkas had hired in his good mood. Taking Shique’s skills into consideration, it was obvious this opponent wasn’t suitably matched. Even if he was able to liven up the battle, Tarkas had struck a bad deal. This would be over in an instant.

Shique readied his trademark dual swords. Both were single-bladed swords of middle length. The newcomer nervously stood ready on the other side. This would be over within the blink of an eye – or so Orba thought at the time.

But while he thought this, he heard a loud rumbling through the ground, which practically shook violently under his feet. During that lapse in time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena.

Those soldiers who looked up at the dust, towards whatever it was, were the first to fall victim. Although they’d gathered around the arena carrying spears and guns, they also hadn’t expected such a sudden occurrence, and were crushed to death underneath a dragon’s forelegs. As soon as the clots of blood painted the ground bright red, a scaled dragon, tinged with slime here and there, emerged from the cloud of dust. The huge-shaped mass was basically stepping forward.

It was a large-type dragon, Sozos. Chains were supposed to be tie to its feet and naturally it should have also be locked up in a cage, but the dragon had become a freed creature, and even more of them appeared all at once.

“Wh-Whaahh!!”

One soldier, stunned by the death of his colleagues, fired his readied gun. The moment he removed his aim, a sharp claw about three times his height swung down on his body and he immediately splattered into a heap of flesh on the ground. Then the other soldiers who were near him, shrieked like women, dropped their guns, and started running away. Their screams and shouts began to sound much like the rumbling in the ground.

“W-What, what’s going on?”

“Why are the dragons on a rampage?”

A large number of people started bellowing at each other underneath their tents. The dragons that were to be used by the gladiators had broken through their cages and were rampaging about. There were some people who picked up swords and guns and headed for the guards, some who ran as fast as they could, and some who spread instructions to their subordinates – mixed in with a lot of other people.

Orba stood up from his chair. For a moment he couldn’t see Shique’s figure from under the cover of the dust cloud. Then one of the gladiators, the one who was the next to go, got kicked hard by a Baian. And another, someone from the Tarkas Group who tried to recklessly lunge at their bellies, got trampled under a Sozos.

Then, he spotted a single, small silhouette among those dragons. It was Hou Ran. She was probably running around in tears trying to stop the dragons. There were several times when she barely escaped being kicked around by the dragons’ legs.

''Lend me a gun.''

Orba came close to shouting those words and taking a rifle from one of the guards. However, he was interrupted halfway as he suddenly he felt a sharp pain at a certain spot on his forehead.

“Ah!”

Guided by impulse and not by reason, Orba quickly concealed his body under the table. Something was flying overhead, high in the sky, at a great speed. Someone with the intent to kill. As it took form, he had a feeling that it was aiming for the ground.

''A sniper!''

Blended in with the sound of the dragon’s feet, the raised screams of the people, and the angry voices, was most definitely the sound of a rifle’s gunshot that rattled his eardrums.

=== Part 2 ===

In the blink of an eye, the arena down below was covered in a cloud of dust. Seeing the turmoil in front of her, which was much like a battlefield, Vileena jumped out of her seat.

Able to see the the rampaging dragons and the many people falling victim to them, her eyes were reflexively trying to look for an airship. If she could cut in from the sky, she might be able to draw the dragons’ attention. There certainly had to be an old-type scouting ship among the number of crafts in the Mephian defence force.

“Hey, you, don’t come any further!”

“How rude, out of all the people that came here, just who – wahh!”

A disturbance occurred among the guards who were standing in an organized line. It wasn’t because of the dragons’ disturbance. There was a man who was running away, aiming straight for them, and although two soldiers tried to hold him back, they were cut down in no time.

''Who the—!?''

She was unable to say a word, as it became a lump of saliva caught in her throat. Getting a glimpse of the bloodied sword, she recognized him for the man that should have been fighting in the arena just now. The Garberan princess barely dodged a single blow swung down from the side. However, tripping over the hem of her long dress, she fell down.

The other guards, distracted by the rampaging dragons, were moving about all over the place. Vileena nimbly rolled over on the ground and snatched a gun from the waist of a soldier who’d been cut down. Sparks jumped out before her. The steel blade had dug into the ground but, within a short interval, he swung it down again.

Vileena’s vision was fixed on the point of the sword, as if she just fallen to the brink of the dark shadow of death. Then, suddenly, a single sword came down from the side, stopping the blow.

“Your opponent is me.”

The words came from behind the man – it was the gladiator who had been fighting him a while ago. His red lips formed into a mysterious smile.

“As soon as the dragons appeared, you headed straight this way. Who are you?”

“Bastard!”

The man shouted in a hoarse voice, without releasing his grip, he rotated his body and pulled out a dagger from his waist. With a movement quick enough to stir up a wind, he aimed for the gladiator’s chest. However, that gladiator – Shique – tilted his shoulders. He swept aside the dagger with his other sword, and thrust his first sword into the man’s chest.

When the man collapsed in front of her with a surprised look in his eyes, Vileena heaved a sigh.

''An assassin…''

It felt like cold hands had taken a hold on her heart. And then, suddenly realizing the situation, she looked over at Prince Gil’s side. He was jumbled together with several other people, hiding under a table. Only his face peeped out, quietly observing the state of his surroundings. Although his safety was most definitely important, it couldn’t be helped that her sense of disappointment in him only grew. When his fiancée had been attacked just now, this man had been quivering all by himself.

Then Vileena accidentally got startled, because Gil looked her way. There was not a hint of fear in his eyes, rather…

“Princess, get over here and lie down,” Gil – although, it was of course actually Orba – suddenly said.

He half-forcingly pulled at a bewildered Vileena’s arm and, after he made her lie down on her stomach like him, called out Shique’s name.
The gladiator froze over with genuine surprise. Seeing him so flabbergasted, Orba was driven by the urge to make a joke, despite the current situation.

“I’m a fan of yours,” he said. He then immediately gave a serious look. “The dragons are only a diversion. There must be a sniper aiming for us here. Find out where he is.”

“Ha, hahah...”

Suddenly being spoken to in person by the prince of his country, although he was basically given an order, even baffled Shique. Orba, however, continued without concern anyway.

“Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can fight lend a hand.”

Shique started running, quick to come to action, although he turned his head every now and then. He started running past the dragons that were going mad with blood and devouring several people. While making sure to guard his back, Orba peeked out from under the table. And immediately drew back in again. He repeated the movement several times, until a gunshot also reached Vileena’s ears for the first time.

''A lure?''

She realized that thought with a flash. He’d purposely exposed his body like that to invite the enemy’s gunfire, so that the gladiator named Shique could learn of the enemy’s position. This prince – just what was his true face?

A Sozos climbed up through the mayhem in the valley and was approaching their location.

“Your Highness, Princess! This way!”

Two men rushed in among the guards. Finally someone who acted in the right state of mind had come for them. Orba also decided it was a good time to leave. He stood up and led Vileena by the hand. She didn’t go against him and followed suit.

Orba was running. Maybe he had expected something like this to happen, because he had to act as a double. But right now, he didn’t have the time to think of that. Although he was worried about the safety of the gladiators, Orba decided that, considering that the gunshots had ceased, they were probably all right.

Orba and Vileena, holding each other’s hands, looked over their shoulders several times, as they rushed into a cave underneath the cliffs, led by the soldiers.

“Get into this hidden passage for now. It leads to the other side of the cliffs.”

When the soldier struck one of the pillars in the cave with his fist, the side of the steep cliff wall rotated, opening a space where only one person could pass.

“Go, hurry,” they urged the princess on.

The moment Vileena’s body was pushed inside, the wall somehow rotated again behind her.

“Huh?”

She raised her voice and turned her back when there was only darkness in front of her. There wasn’t a single lamp inside the cave, and although she looked for a switch, she couldn’t find it in the hidden passage. Furthermore, she heard voices on the other side of the wall in some kind of argument.

Surely the enemy hadn’t planned an ambush? – she soon thought.

“Princess Vileena!”

A voice called out to her from behind. Again there were two soldiers in armour, and came from the other side of the passage carrying lamps. However, they weren’t dressed in Mephian gear.

“Princess, make haste over here. A ship is coming to pick you up.”

“Ship? What do you mean by ship?”

“It’s a ship that has come to take you away from these savage lands, to a place more suitable for someone of your noble lineage.”

“You guys…”

While the Vileena was struck with a certain foreboding feeling, something like a gunshot roared from the other side of the thick wall.

It was in the instant Vileena entered the hidden passage.

“Hey, what’s going on!?”

Several soldiers who seemed to be guarding the inside of the cliffs came their way. Then one of the soldiers who had guided Orba quickly struck the pillar again, leaving Vileena alone in the passage she’d entered.

“''We'' don’t know either. But it’s going well.”

As he spoke, he pulled and fired a gun from his back.

Almost at the same time as the guard up front collapsed with a spray of blood, the other soldier was about to lunge into their flanks with a drawn sword. Without having the time to accept the sudden challenge, one soldier, and yet another one, got cut down.

Orba was standing with his back against the wall, watching over this sudden bewildering development. This didn’t look like some internal discord. With the thought that Vileena was in the hidden passage all alone, it was likely that the soldiers who had guided Orba here were involved with the dragon rampage and the sniping.

Orba gently leaned over, and took a sword from a fallen soldier. He concealed it behind his back for the time being, as the battle before him ended.

“Worthless,” the soldier who’d fired the gun said and turned around to face Orba. “What should we do with the prince here?”

“Let’s keep him hostage. Get over here, you!”

The soldier holding the sword held out his hand. It was the same hand that belonged to the one who, due to the element of surprise, had killed six soldiers in an instant. Not wearing a helmet, his face was beaming with haughtiness.

“W-Who… are you people?”

Trembling, Orba edged sideways with his back against the wall. The two had sneers on their faces, covered with their victims’ blood.

“Hmph, I didn’t know the prince of the Great Imperial Dynasty was this pathetic. After all, he can’t do a thing without his many retainers by his side.”

“A guy like this would become the Vileena-sama’s husband? Ridiculous. He’d sully Garbera’s prestigious blood. Now, Prince Halfwit of Mephius, come!”

Orba screamed and ran away from the man’s outstretched arm.

“I don’t have time to play. Now, if you don’t come quickly.”

As the soldier chased after him with mocking laughter, Orba promptly turned around, and cut him right up front with the sword he’d been hiding. Leaving a trail of blood and an accompanying scream, he jumped over his fallen opponent and quickly stabbed at shoulder of the flustered man holding the gun.

“B-Bastard.”

He drove the pommel of his sword into the man’s face who collapsed on his knees and he fainted.

Then, from the opposite side of the cave, other guardsmen from Mephius showed up. They’d probably caught the sounds of the disturbance. Orba quickly explained to them the circumstances – and ordered them to bind up the unconscious enemies.
After that, he urged them to open up the hidden passage, but it took him quite some time and effort because the soldier in charge wasn’t there.

''I hate enemies who stay hidden and gather knowledge.''

Time was precious. Without fully knowing the reason behind his impatience, Orba privately clicked his tongue.

Several minutes after Vileena had disappeared into the hidden passage, they finally opened the door.

The first thing Orba heard was the sound of men and a woman struggling with each other.

As expected, if he could say so, men were holding Vileena on both sides and trying to drag her along through the narrow cave passage.

“Unhand me, you insolents!”

Vileena’s voice left the trail of an echo throughout the narrow cave. The Mephian guardsmen set out ahead of Orba.

“Who’s there? Where are you taking the princess?”

“Stupid Mephian savages! Don’t you get it!?”

As the enemy soldier answered back, he pulled out a pistol. The Mephian soldier was about to counter-attack immediately, but,

“Wait, you’ll hit the princess!”

Orba took command as he tried to lay low. In that instant, suddenly something unbelievable occurred.

Having lost her restraints on one side from the man holding the gun, Vileena lightly jumped up and raised one foot from her dress. Taking in the brunt of the force from her foot, the gun dropped from the soldier’s hand. Quickly recovering from his initial shock, Orba made a quick decision.

“Now—! Don’t use guns, charge!”

In response to Orba’s orders, the soldiers armed themselves with swords and spears and rushed into the other party.

Although one of them showed signs of fighting back, in the blink of an eye he was overwhelmed by the Mephian force.

“Draw back, draw back!”

Eventually they commenced their escape, leaving the princess in place.

The Mephian soldiers raised cries of war and chased after them, but it was a narrow cave after all. One Garberan soldier came to a halt and started rapidly firing at them, making them lose their joint effort as they had to take cover here and there. Providing cover for his allies thus, when his bullets inevitably ran out, he removed a knife from his pocket, jabbed it into his own neck, and finished himself off.

Orba hadn’t witnessed these details to the very end. The rest was an issue between Mephius and Garbera, where he himself was unrelated. Aside from that, the safety of the people he knew weighed on his mind and he followed the road all the way back through the cave.

When he came back, the disturbance had settled a bit. The dragons were lying with their long necks on the ground, or leaning against the huge slopes in the valley, spewing out blood. They had sunk beneath the gunfire of the sword-slaves, including Gowen, and the artillery the Mephian soldiers had brought out. Having played quite an active role, Gilliam and Shique’s swords were wet with vast amounts of blood, and their muscles heaved along with rough breaths.

However, the strained look didn’t leave their faces, rather, their looks were coated with a preparedness for death. This was hardly surprising, because the guns the Mephian soldiers had set up were currently pointing in the direction of the sword-slaves.

“What’s the meaning of this, Tarkas!?” a red-faced Fedom berated Tarkas.

The dragons suddenly going on a rampage had been brought along by the Tarkas Group, and several people had witnessed some of the sword-slaves pointing their swords at Gil and Vileena. Although Tarkas had a pale face and desperately told him he ‘didn’t know either’, Fedom didn’t have the ears to hear it. If he would have had a gun in his hands, he would’ve likely used it to shoot Tarkas on the spot.

Most of the sword-slaves were forced to disarm themselves, and had to cross both arms over their heads. However, there was confusion on the faces of even the guards pointing their guns. After all, the ones who’d fought back against the dragons first were none other than those slaves.

Still shrouded with dust, the smell of earth and gunfire abundant, there was confusion in the air.

“Wait!”

Orba stepped forward. The surprised soldiers holding the guns made way. Fedom glanced over at Orba and twisted the corners of his mouth.

“What? When you butt in like this—”

“Who are you speaking to? Don’t you recognize me, Fedom?”

Shutting his mouth with a start, Fedom gave him a disgruntled look. Seeing such a thing for the first time, Tarkas snickered.

“This man may be involved in a country-wide conspiracy. He most likely exchanged words with someone else, right? He seems to be responsible for hiring these people from someone without knowing a thing, but he can’t say from whom. Don’t you dare forsake your responsibilities and execute even one of these sword-slaves without permission. I’ll have his head – I’ll take it off with my ''own'' sword!”


“I agree.”

Turning around, Orba raised his eyebrows in surprise. Vileena came walking up to them. She seemed to be wavering a little, but if you take in account the mayhem from a little while ago, you could say she was carrying herself rather firmly.

“Ah, princess!”

Her maid Theresia rushed over to her, probably having been worried about her all this time, and Vileena greeted her with a thin smile.

“Even though it was a gladiator that aimed for my life, the one that rescued me was the gladiator over there. We won’t be able to come to a simple conclusion with the current circumstances, will we?”

Although her dress was covered with sand, her face bore countless beads of sweat, and her braided hair had become frayed here and there, her pupils were filled with a clear purpose.

''Straight after such a commotion…''

Instead of being panicked, she was analysing things calmly. Until some time ago, he’d only seen this girl as a puppet, but it was only after she was injured and knocked about, that it roused his flesh and blood, and Orba actually felt that she was a person with the same beliefs as he had.

“Besides,” the foreign princess suddenly cast down her eyes and gnashed her teeth. “They were probably our Garbera’s— General Ryucown’s subordinates.”

That evening, Orba was in a single room inside the cliffs. It was the same room he’d spent his time in yesterday, as it was made appropriate for the Imperial Family to stay in.

While he didn’t grasp the full story behind the situation, they had judged it too dangerous to go back to a city in Mephian territory with only themselves for now. With their military power currently forming a line of defence in the valley, they were waiting for reinforcements to arrive from the city.

Of course, several people from Garbera, including Vileena, and the delegation from Ende were being confined in the valley as well. At any rate, the atmosphere had gotten complicated.

The moment the Mephian soldiers, who had chased the enemy down the hidden passage, had slipped out to the valley on the other side, they’d witnessed a dragonstone ship flying up into the air. It was a high-speed cruiser that could carry about ten people, and it had probably been waiting on the other side of the cliffs until just a while earlier. So they might have been planning to take Vileena?

Vileena had said these were ‘Ryucown’s actions’.

Ryucown was a great warrior from Garbera. Even Orba knew his name. It seemed only obvious to claim that this chain of disturbances was plotted by Garbera.

''However…''

Orba started thinking it over. If that ''had'' been Garbera’s doing, there were too many unnatural aspects.

“Gil-sama? Gil-sama!”

He was a little late to react to the voice calling out to him. The page, Dinn, had just placed several wine bottles and three glasses on the table. It was these items that told Orba everything.

“You’re still a little late in noticing, aren’t you?”

“I’ve never been called by that name, you know?” Orba said, shrugging his shoulders. “Names aside, the ‘sama’ doesn’t sit well either. It’s awkward. You don’t have to overdo it when there’s no one else around.”

“No. Anyone can keep an eye out, and you never know who’s straining his ears. Besides, I’m not such a skilled person either. So I’m not confident I can change my behaviour when it really matters if I don’t regularly keep calling you Prince Gil. You too. If you don’t get used to it – if you don’t constantly behave like a prince should – you might expose yourself when push comes to shove.”

The still twelve, thirteen-year-old boy answered, puffing up with a noble’s pride.

“Get used to it, huh?” Orba said, as he noticed the full-scale window that reached from the floor to the ceiling.

Because the curtains were drawn, he couldn’t look out over the valley. While the balcony was packed with soldiers on guard, because the balcony itself protruded directly from the cliff, he didn’t have to worry that they could hear their conversation.

That was when he remembered, and Orba smiled, thinking back. When Tarkas had been accused by Fedom, he’d offered some timely help, and afterwards, Tarkas had bowed over to him in gratitude many times over. He would never forget that hapless, tear-filled face for the rest of his life.

“Seeing the number of glasses, who are the guests coming over?”

Just when he was about to answer, the soldier guarding the other side of the door informed them he had visitors.

“Let them in.”

Being flanked by two soldiers on the left and right, two people came in that Orba had ordered to call over some time ago.

Entering quite timidly, probably due to surprise and nervousness, were the person in charge of training sword-slaves, Gowen, and the gladiator, Shique.

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
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|-
| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter5|Chapter 5]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-03T23:21:25Z

Kiydon: Formatting.

Splendid work at 4 percent! -([[User talk:Tasear|talk]])

Cleaned this page up a bit; removed resolved issues. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:51, 31 May 2013 (CDT)

<hr />

In "What… a lie?" A suggest would be to change it to "What...is a lie?", since in the raw it says （何が、嘘、だ).
* I find Orba's entire comment puzzling, because he knows he's lying, so what is he surprised about? I assume he's surprised about the fact she accused him for a liar. So I translated into something like : "What? A lie?". Your translation is indeed closer to the original, but it makes me wonder what Orba means by it.
* I think what Orba means is that he is surprised by Vileena calling him out on lying, since they were unfamiliar, and also of high rank, and probably shouldn't be using casual language.

"During that staggering time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena." "Staggering time" sounds really awkward here; I know that in the raw it says よろめいたその間, so I'm not sure what suggestions that I can make other than that it sounds awkward.
* From what I get it's supposed to either mean: "during that lapse in time" or "during the time (where he was) staggering" due to the tremors, I translated it a bit more literally because I can't quite figure out which one it's supposed to be.
:* Okay, the issue still bothers me so I've decided to change it to "during that lapse in time". Sounds better. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 07:13, 31 May 2013 (CDT)

”The moment he removed his aim”, about this part, 狙いの外したその瞬間, its rather hard to translate. Perhaps the soldier stopped aiming at the dragon?
* 狙いの外した can also mean he missed the mark, so I'm not quite sure if he took a shot and missed or if he stopped aiming, so I translated it literally.
*I see. It's good then, since I'm not really sure what is being said there as well.

Sorry about that mountain of suggestions! Really nice translation as normal, keep up the great work! Also, my bad on the changing the "wilfully" part (both the first and the second time), didn't know that the British English had a different version, and don't know what happened the second time (I think I had the page open before you edited it, and didn't save until afterwards). --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]].
* No problem, thanks for checking the text. --C ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:00, 19 May 2013 (CDT)

<hr />

A very fluent read at 45 percent. I will keep checking but I didn't notice any obvious errors. Thanks again for your hard work - ([[User talk:Tasear|talk]])

....but now you seem to smile, thinking of something pleasant.

"thinking of something pleasant" seems awkward in the context. What is suppose to be said here in this area.

*Vileena is commenting on Orba smiling in what she perceives to be him thinking of happy things and smiling. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
*Indeed: 幸せそうな思い出し笑い - He smiles as if he's thinking (back) on / recalling something pleasant. If it sounds awkward it can be changed to: "... but now you seem to smile, ''as if you're'' thinking of something pleasant." but I didn't want to make the sentence too long.
<hr />

Going through the newer section; found a few minor mistakes that I'll fix, and a few suggestions as well.

"She was unable to say a word, as it became a lump of saliva caught in her throat." I suggest changing it to "She was unable to say a word, as a lump of saliva was caught in her throat", to fix various issues.
:*The impression I got from the original phrasing was that it was an intentional figurative expression that the "word... became a lump of saliva," which is lost in the above proposed change. If that expression was intentional, then my a bit more liberal suggestion to include it is "Her words caught (or maybe 'stuck') in her throat as a lump of saliva, and she was unable to say a thing." --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 18:19, 1 June 2013 (CDT)
*What I was referring here was that it didn't make much sense for a word to become a lump of saliva. The raw actually says nothing about "a word", as it says 「声を出したつもりが、しかし唾の塊となって喉に引っかかっただけだった。」, which basically translates to "She meant to speak, but a lump of saliva formed(?) and was stuck in her throat." What is confusing here is the なって (to become) after 唾の塊　(lump of saliva), because there really isn't something that can "form into" a lump of saliva. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
:*I agree that it doesn't make sense for the word to literally become a lump of saliva, but I consider it a reasonable figurative expression. One again, I think it's merely a difference of opinion/perspective. Though I have no idea if that expression is consistent with the correct interpretation of the JP. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 20:06, 2 June 2013 (CDT)
:* I mistakenly made a typo in the first part as 声を出したとむりが, which would mean she was unable to speak, so that's my mistake. The raw does say that she 'intended to speak/use her voice' but what she was trying to say 'became a lump of saliva'. However, if that sounds strange in English we can dismiss the entire 'became' part. A suggestion would be: "She meant to speak, but it got caught in her throat as a lump of saliva" (its closer to the original) or "She meant to speak, but a lump of saliva got caught in her throat." The problem is whether we want to keep it as close to the original as possible or just keep it simple. A dilemma that seems to be coming up again and again while translating :). If the first suggestion still feels awkward, we can go with the last. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 05:56, 3 June 2013 (CDT)
::* I feel like that the second sounds better, so I'll vote for going with keeping it simple and making it flow better. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

"Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can stand in arms cooperate." I think that something along the lines of "Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can fight assist us" would be a better translation for (ゴーウィンにも伝えて、何人か腕の立つ者に協力させろ）, as though the current one is an accurate translation, it doesn't make much sense in English.
* I thought someone who can 'stand in arms' was something in the lines of someone who can 'carry a weapon'. Basically 腕の立つ is an Japanese idiom/expression of someone who is skilled/able to do something (in this case fight). Whenever an expression is used, I also like to use some sort of expression. I do prefer 協力 to be translated as 'cooperate' instead of 'assist' though [http://ejje.weblio.jp/content/%E5%8D%94%E5%8A%9B], mainly due to the nature of the separate kanji meanings, or 'lend a hand'. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 05:56, 3 June 2013 (CDT)
:: I changed it to "Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can fight lend a hand."

"While making sure to guard his back...", I think what is meant here is that Orba is taking care not to expose his back too much, rather than guarding his back, since he's hiding from the sniper.
* You're right about the fact that it means he doesn't want to expose himself too much that his back gets out of hiding. That's why I chose 'guard', but "While making sure not to expose his back" or "While making sure to watch his back" is probably better. I'll mull over it for a while...

"'''We'' don’t know either. But it’s going well.'" is a good translation of わからんよ、おれたちにも。だが、都合はいいな, so it's fine.
* Ok, thanks - I'll remove the TN.

"With the thought that Vileena was in the hidden passage all alone, it was likely that the soldiers who had guided Orba here were involved with the dragon rampage and the sniping at Prince Gil". I feel that "at Prince Gil" is unnecessary here, and just makes the sentence more awkward.
* I can't deny that it sounds strange, but that's what the raw says, sort of like 'the attack on the prince', so I left it there. I'll omit it, though, because its a bit unnecessary as the reader knows Orba is substituting Gil.

Good job translating once again, as this section was a pretty smooth read! --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

Bringing up [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Rakuin_no_Monshou:Volume1_Chapter4&diff=256057&oldid=255840 this recent change] for a little review: I think that both are correct grammatically. I would say the meaning implied by the original phrasing of "rolled over the ground and ..." is that the motion of rolling was done to travel distance. The new phrasing of "rolled over on the ground" changes the focus of the statement to the change in orientation (face-down to face-up), and somewhat implies it was a single roll. Since that motion is followed by "snatched a gun," I would have guessed that the intended focus was on the getting from one place to the other; and if that's the case, the most appropriate version might depend on the number of rolls, but I would have favored the original phrasing at first glance. I have no idea about the original, just bringing it up for a second look. (sigh, that's a lot of words for just two letters...) --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 18:19, 1 June 2013 (CDT)

*Rolled over the ground implies that Vileena is rolling over "the ground", since, which I highly doubt she has the ability to do so. Rolled over "on" the ground would mean that she is the one rolling, not the ground. The lack of a preposition changes the meaning of the phrase. I'm not sure if I explained that right, though. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:-I think I see where you're coming from now, but I still think the original wording is valid and may be more appropriate depending on the intended meaning. I hadn't considered it, but from what I understand you have parsed the sentence as [Vileena] [nimbly] [rolled over] (on) [the ground]. The intuitive interpretation for me was [Vileena] [nimbly] [rolled] [over the ground], where "over" was part of the description of where Vileena was doing the rolling instead of being paired with the verb. At this point I think it's merely a difference in perspective and probably doesn't warrant additional discussion (if it even warranted my starting the discussion to begin with). --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 23:58, 1 June 2013 (CDT)

*I see what you mean. I see "the ground" as an object, because "over" seems to be actually a bit important to the sentence. If you take out "over the ground", you'll be left with "Vileena nimbly rolled [] and snatched a gun from the waist of a soldier", versus taking out "on the ground" and "Vileena nimbly rolled over [] and snatched a gun from the waist of a soldier". Personally, I think the second sounds better, though again your view is not incorrect either. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:* I'm not going to decide on this discussion, since it seems to be dedicated to the nuances of English, and I honestly don't know which is better. What I can ''add'' though is that in this sentence　地面を転がって 'the ground' is the direct object (due to the particle を) and 'to roll (over)' is the verb. That's my dictionary entry: 'roll (over)' [http://ejje.weblio.jp/content/%E8%BB%A2%E3%81%8C%E3%82%8B], but I don't really know when you have to add 'over'. So in that case I see where Kiydon's coming from because Vileena can't 'roll the ground'. On the other hand, if it was 'on the ground' the particle に would have been used (地面に転がって), making it an indirect object or passive agent. I hope I'm making some sense.
:: So, is '[roll over] [the ground]' the same as '[roll] [the ground]', or is it '[roll] [over the ground]' which is the same as '[roll] [on the ground]'? This issue kind of intrigues me so I'd like to know which one's correct. I'll leave you two to make a decision and stand by whatever you decide is best.
:: If you want ''me'' to make a pick an option though, I will. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 05:56, 3 June 2013 (CDT)

:::* Grammatically, both are correct, as far as I know. In [roll over], over acts as a preposition to [the ground], indicating that the ground is being [rolled], though in a different sense than in [roll] [over the ground], which is indicating that a rolling action is being performed over the ground. It really depends on the context, but it does seem to me confusing sometimes. It didn't bother me that much on a second read-through, so it's not really that big of a deal, since I didn't really find anything that pointed things in one way or another. Keeping it as it is is fine, so it's up to you if you want to change it. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-03T23:20:14Z

Kiydon:

Splendid work at 4 percent! -([[User talk:Tasear|talk]])

Cleaned this page up a bit; removed resolved issues. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:51, 31 May 2013 (CDT)

<hr />

In "What… a lie?" A suggest would be to change it to "What...is a lie?", since in the raw it says （何が、嘘、だ).
* I find Orba's entire comment puzzling, because he knows he's lying, so what is he surprised about? I assume he's surprised about the fact she accused him for a liar. So I translated into something like : "What? A lie?". Your translation is indeed closer to the original, but it makes me wonder what Orba means by it.
* I think what Orba means is that he is surprised by Vileena calling him out on lying, since they were unfamiliar, and also of high rank, and probably shouldn't be using casual language.

"During that staggering time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena." "Staggering time" sounds really awkward here; I know that in the raw it says よろめいたその間, so I'm not sure what suggestions that I can make other than that it sounds awkward.
* From what I get it's supposed to either mean: "during that lapse in time" or "during the time (where he was) staggering" due to the tremors, I translated it a bit more literally because I can't quite figure out which one it's supposed to be.
:* Okay, the issue still bothers me so I've decided to change it to "during that lapse in time". Sounds better. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 07:13, 31 May 2013 (CDT)

”The moment he removed his aim”, about this part, 狙いの外したその瞬間, its rather hard to translate. Perhaps the soldier stopped aiming at the dragon?
* 狙いの外した can also mean he missed the mark, so I'm not quite sure if he took a shot and missed or if he stopped aiming, so I translated it literally.
*I see. It's good then, since I'm not really sure what is being said there as well.

Sorry about that mountain of suggestions! Really nice translation as normal, keep up the great work! Also, my bad on the changing the "wilfully" part (both the first and the second time), didn't know that the British English had a different version, and don't know what happened the second time (I think I had the page open before you edited it, and didn't save until afterwards). --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]].
* No problem, thanks for checking the text. --C ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:00, 19 May 2013 (CDT)

<hr />

A very fluent read at 45 percent. I will keep checking but I didn't notice any obvious errors. Thanks again for your hard work - ([[User talk:Tasear|talk]])

....but now you seem to smile, thinking of something pleasant.

"thinking of something pleasant" seems awkward in the context. What is suppose to be said here in this area.

*Vileena is commenting on Orba smiling in what she perceives to be him thinking of happy things and smiling. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
*Indeed: 幸せそうな思い出し笑い - He smiles as if he's thinking (back) on / recalling something pleasant. If it sounds awkward it can be changed to: "... but now you seem to smile, ''as if you're'' thinking of something pleasant." but I didn't want to make the sentence too long.
<hr />

Going through the newer section; found a few minor mistakes that I'll fix, and a few suggestions as well.

"She was unable to say a word, as it became a lump of saliva caught in her throat." I suggest changing it to "She was unable to say a word, as a lump of saliva was caught in her throat", to fix various issues.
:*The impression I got from the original phrasing was that it was an intentional figurative expression that the "word... became a lump of saliva," which is lost in the above proposed change. If that expression was intentional, then my a bit more liberal suggestion to include it is "Her words caught (or maybe 'stuck') in her throat as a lump of saliva, and she was unable to say a thing." --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 18:19, 1 June 2013 (CDT)
*What I was referring here was that it didn't make much sense for a word to become a lump of saliva. The raw actually says nothing about "a word", as it says 「声を出したつもりが、しかし唾の塊となって喉に引っかかっただけだった。」, which basically translates to "She meant to speak, but a lump of saliva formed(?) and was stuck in her throat." What is confusing here is the なって (to become) after 唾の塊　(lump of saliva), because there really isn't something that can "form into" a lump of saliva. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
:*I agree that it doesn't make sense for the word to literally become a lump of saliva, but I consider it a reasonable figurative expression. One again, I think it's merely a difference of opinion/perspective. Though I have no idea if that expression is consistent with the correct interpretation of the JP. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 20:06, 2 June 2013 (CDT)
:* I mistakenly made a typo in the first part as 声を出したとむりが, which would mean she was unable to speak, so that's my mistake. The raw does say that she 'intended to speak/use her voice' but what she was trying to say 'became a lump of saliva'. However, if that sounds strange in English we can dismiss the entire 'became' part. A suggestion would be: "She meant to speak, but it got caught in her throat as a lump of saliva" (its closer to the original) or "She meant to speak, but a lump of saliva got caught in her throat." The problem is whether we want to keep it as close to the original as possible or just keep it simple. A dilemma that seems to be coming up again and again while translating :). If the first suggestion still feels awkward, we can go with the last. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 05:56, 3 June 2013 (CDT)
* I feel like that the second sounds better, so I'll vote for going with keeping it simple and making it flow better. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

"Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can stand in arms cooperate." I think that something along the lines of "Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can fight assist us" would be a better translation for (ゴーウィンにも伝えて、何人か腕の立つ者に協力させろ）, as though the current one is an accurate translation, it doesn't make much sense in English.
* I thought someone who can 'stand in arms' was something in the lines of someone who can 'carry a weapon'. Basically 腕の立つ is an Japanese idiom/expression of someone who is skilled/able to do something (in this case fight). Whenever an expression is used, I also like to use some sort of expression. I do prefer 協力 to be translated as 'cooperate' instead of 'assist' though [http://ejje.weblio.jp/content/%E5%8D%94%E5%8A%9B], mainly due to the nature of the separate kanji meanings, or 'lend a hand'. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 05:56, 3 June 2013 (CDT)
:: I changed it to "Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can fight lend a hand."

"While making sure to guard his back...", I think what is meant here is that Orba is taking care not to expose his back too much, rather than guarding his back, since he's hiding from the sniper.
* You're right about the fact that it means he doesn't want to expose himself too much that his back gets out of hiding. That's why I chose 'guard', but "While making sure not to expose his back" or "While making sure to watch his back" is probably better. I'll mull over it for a while...

"'''We'' don’t know either. But it’s going well.'" is a good translation of わからんよ、おれたちにも。だが、都合はいいな, so it's fine.
* Ok, thanks - I'll remove the TN.

"With the thought that Vileena was in the hidden passage all alone, it was likely that the soldiers who had guided Orba here were involved with the dragon rampage and the sniping at Prince Gil". I feel that "at Prince Gil" is unnecessary here, and just makes the sentence more awkward.
* I can't deny that it sounds strange, but that's what the raw says, sort of like 'the attack on the prince', so I left it there. I'll omit it, though, because its a bit unnecessary as the reader knows Orba is substituting Gil.

Good job translating once again, as this section was a pretty smooth read! --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

Bringing up [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Rakuin_no_Monshou:Volume1_Chapter4&diff=256057&oldid=255840 this recent change] for a little review: I think that both are correct grammatically. I would say the meaning implied by the original phrasing of "rolled over the ground and ..." is that the motion of rolling was done to travel distance. The new phrasing of "rolled over on the ground" changes the focus of the statement to the change in orientation (face-down to face-up), and somewhat implies it was a single roll. Since that motion is followed by "snatched a gun," I would have guessed that the intended focus was on the getting from one place to the other; and if that's the case, the most appropriate version might depend on the number of rolls, but I would have favored the original phrasing at first glance. I have no idea about the original, just bringing it up for a second look. (sigh, that's a lot of words for just two letters...) --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 18:19, 1 June 2013 (CDT)

*Rolled over the ground implies that Vileena is rolling over "the ground", since, which I highly doubt she has the ability to do so. Rolled over "on" the ground would mean that she is the one rolling, not the ground. The lack of a preposition changes the meaning of the phrase. I'm not sure if I explained that right, though. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:-I think I see where you're coming from now, but I still think the original wording is valid and may be more appropriate depending on the intended meaning. I hadn't considered it, but from what I understand you have parsed the sentence as [Vileena] [nimbly] [rolled over] (on) [the ground]. The intuitive interpretation for me was [Vileena] [nimbly] [rolled] [over the ground], where "over" was part of the description of where Vileena was doing the rolling instead of being paired with the verb. At this point I think it's merely a difference in perspective and probably doesn't warrant additional discussion (if it even warranted my starting the discussion to begin with). --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 23:58, 1 June 2013 (CDT)

*I see what you mean. I see "the ground" as an object, because "over" seems to be actually a bit important to the sentence. If you take out "over the ground", you'll be left with "Vileena nimbly rolled [] and snatched a gun from the waist of a soldier", versus taking out "on the ground" and "Vileena nimbly rolled over [] and snatched a gun from the waist of a soldier". Personally, I think the second sounds better, though again your view is not incorrect either. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:* I'm not going to decide on this discussion, since it seems to be dedicated to the nuances of English, and I honestly don't know which is better. What I can ''add'' though is that in this sentence　地面を転がって 'the ground' is the direct object (due to the particle を) and 'to roll (over)' is the verb. That's my dictionary entry: 'roll (over)' [http://ejje.weblio.jp/content/%E8%BB%A2%E3%81%8C%E3%82%8B], but I don't really know when you have to add 'over'. So in that case I see where Kiydon's coming from because Vileena can't 'roll the ground'. On the other hand, if it was 'on the ground' the particle に would have been used (地面に転がって), making it an indirect object or passive agent. I hope I'm making some sense.
:: So, is '[roll over] [the ground]' the same as '[roll] [the ground]', or is it '[roll] [over the ground]' which is the same as '[roll] [on the ground]'? This issue kind of intrigues me so I'd like to know which one's correct. I'll leave you two to make a decision and stand by whatever you decide is best.
:: If you want ''me'' to make a pick an option though, I will. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 05:56, 3 June 2013 (CDT)

*Grammatically, both are correct, as far as I know. In [roll over], over acts as a preposition to [the ground], indicating that the ground is being [rolled], though in a different sense than in [roll] [over the ground], which is indicating that a rolling action is being performed over the ground. It really depends on the context, but it does seem to me confusing sometimes. It didn't bother me that much on a second read-through, so it's not really that big of a deal, since I didn't really find anything that pointed things in one way or another. Keeping it as it is is fine, so it's up to you if you want to change it. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-02T23:25:59Z

Kiydon:

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-02T23:20:39Z

Kiydon:

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-02T03:25:19Z

Kiydon:

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-02T03:25:07Z

Kiydon:

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-01T20:41:20Z

Kiydon:

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-01T20:40:14Z

Kiydon:

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-01T20:39:37Z

Kiydon: Various suggestions.

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-01T20:39:27Z

Kiydon: Various fixes.

{{Incomplete|percentage=45}}
== Chapter 4: At Seirin Valley ==

=== Part 1 ===

As far as Simon Rodloom was concerned, Fedom, the Lord of Birac, showed no signs of a change of heart.

Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to strengthening of the Imperial household’s authority, Simon was still a leading aristocrat. He grasped the movements of the other nobles to some extent, their principles and claims, and also intended to understand their situation.

According to Simon’s insights, Fedom was clearly one of the anti-imperial faction.

He had persuaded the emperor, who actually wanted to continue the war with Garbera, and as the leader of the group promoting the peace negotiations, he had built up support for himself amongst the Imperial Court. Although, for a leader, his slight wisdom was partly insufficient, he was much better compared to the other group of corrupted nobles.

However, that Fedom was definitely acting strange. Since last night’s party – no, ever since they headed out for Seirin Valley – he had for some reason been sticking close to Prince Gil, just like a wet nurse poking her nose into people’s business here and there.

''Did he say he’d educate the prince, just to raise him into a puppet doing his will?''

That thought passed through his mind, but wasn’t it a little too late to take such actions now?

Incidentally, it was also related to the prince himself. As far as he knew, Prince Gil and Fedom should have hardly exchanged any words. When the prince hung around with his young friends, Simon had always heard him call the man ‘that manipulative wannabe swine’ behind his back.

How come he seemed to generously accept Fedom’s sudden intimacy or – even worse – seemed to rely on him?

Aside from making sure by meeting with the prince in private, there was a lot of work left for Simon. A delegation from the Principality of Ende had also rushed in for congratulations, although it was unusual that they decided to only a week ago. At first, there had also been talks of Ende and Garbera forming a bond by engaging royal partners, but it had probably been just one of the many things Ende and Garbera had in mind. Simon was pressed to welcome them.

But somewhere else,

“That ungrateful bastard, Orba!”

It was Tarkas, rudely snorting and prowling about in the room.

Even if he’d come over so abruptly, when he thought of the Mephius’ nobleman Fedom’s sudden visit, why had he bought Orba without asking for consent?

“The one who raised him was me! Shit, he was just about to earn his pay as a working swordsman, when of all things he had to be snatched away by some noble…!”

“We do not understand it either, though.”

He had summoned Shique, Gowen and Gilliam, his main swordsmen, at a private room inside the cliffs, established for Tarkas’s use. They were here because he had to change the pairings of the competition due to Orba’s sudden departure.

“So why was it decided that Orba had to suddenly be pulled out? Although that kid may be a good swordsman, he was the so-called spearhead of the games to celebrate the wedding. If he simply wanted to purchase Orba for his abilities, I think they should’ve made him participate in the fights.”

“I would also like to know – that shithead!” Tarkas said. “Even though he was bought by a noble, he could've at least offered himself up for the last battle as a favour. That son of a bitch!”

“Maybe it’s because we were supposed to kill each other. I’ll surely celebrate his new life, but I can’t get used to this feeling, and I’m bothered about him leaving without a single word.”

“Oh, Gilliam. Does even a man like you get lonely when one of his acquaintances leaves?”

“Shut it, Shique! I just regret that I haven’t settled things with that guy!”

“Well, it can’t be helped that he isn’t here. Let’s consider making some exciting pairings,” Gowen said in order to calm everyone down.

Naturally, he also felt a bit strange lately.

He had no time to figure out what had happened. He had to take a look at the condition of the newcomers Tarkas had bought, and because this was different from the usual procedure, he also had to review every single swordsman.

However, something that faintly weighed on Gowen’s mind was whether Orba, who had been looking forward to a future even when his mind and body got beaten down, was now living in that very same future.

While people were busily moving about around him, former gladiator Orba seemed to have time to spare, being practically left on his own.
Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered the words to him, like ventriloquism.

''It’s strange...''

These nobles had snatched away his brother to be a soldier. Not only had they abandoned their village but, of all things, the nobility had aimed its blades at its own citizens and had taken Alice away, causing him to fall into a life of slavery and making him wear that mask.

It might be because of a whim of fate, but none other than one of those Mephian nobles suddenly plucked Orba out of his life of slavery and ordered him to become a substitute for one of leading figures in the imperial family.

Theft, extortion and illegal gun trading – having lived off sipping water from the gutter, he couldn’t help but think he was a laughingstock for the crown prince. Although the fact that he still didn’t know what another day might bring was similar to being a slave.

However – being on the other side of those black plastered streets – perhaps now he could expect to find one spot, yes, just one spot of light. When he becomes the prince’s body double, he’ll have the opportunity to come in contact with leading figures, other than Fedom of course. It wouldn’t be so strange to find the one who burned down his village – General Oubary – among them.

Although Orba had been hit on his head back then and had only seen him for a moment with a dazed glance, for all those two years he’d been a sword-slave, he hadn’t forgotten his face for even a day. Even now it vividly came back to him in his mind.

“Gil-sama.”

''If we meet again.''

''I wonder what I should do then.''

The boy swordsman, who had his mask removed, continued sinking in ceaseless thoughts. He would think of a way to give the guy the most miserable death possible, as long as it was conceivable in this world. Besides, if he was able to meet up with Oubary, he could trace back the lines to the time he got separated from Alice and his mother. Also, although he himself did not expect too much of it – for he couldn’t wish for the unimaginable over and over again and virtually hope for a miracle – if he found other people recruited as soldiers by Oubary, they might know something about his brother Roan’s whereabouts.

“Gil-sama, Prince. Prince Gil!”

“Eh?”

Being spoken to in such a firm voice, Orba looked to his side.

Princess Vileena was sitting at a distance not too far from him. She was in front of the altar, at the place where the valley was at its deepest, looking out over the area. Only Vileena and Orba were sitting in chairs, with a stalwart group of soldiers surroundings them, while at the front of the altar, priests were chanting hymns of prayer and blessing.

“What is it you’re thinking of?”

“Nothing,” Orba replied curtly.

It wasn’t possible for Fedom to be around him during the ceremony, so he’d told him to ‘say nothing’ in the meantime. Turning his face forward, he pretended to be concentrating on the ceremony.

“That’s a lie,” Vileena decided, also in a curt manner.

''What…? A lie?''

The timing was so excellent that Orba couldn’t ignore it, and he again gave the princess of the Kingdom of Garbera a glance.

She was again wearing a dress, but a different one from yesterday’s party, and she wore an informal tiara on her head. This close, it surprised him. Although she seemed like only a little girl the first time they met face to face, when she turned aside with a serious look every once in a while, she looked really mature.

He wondered if it was because of her clear-cut features, although Orba thought her face looked much like a doll’s. At the moment, except for being from a different birth, she seemed almost the same as Orba. Only moving when told to, and only speaking when told to by someone else.

Indeed, when he thought about it, that was what this wedding was all about. Even though she was only fourteen years old, in contrast to her true wishes, she has to become the wife of a man she only first met yesterday, and was of a former enemy country to boot. Although he couldn’t get himself to feel sympathy for someone like her, who was born in a royal family, she seemed to have various hardships of her own as well.

''So, it’s the same for everyone.''

He suddenly remembered that voice.

''– Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. Everybody longs for a world they don’t know, and pursue a meaning in life for which they’ve been born – even if he’s a priest, or royalty.''

''It was just like Roan said'', Orba groaned deep inside.

“You really ''are'' lost in thought.”

When she once again spoke to him out of the blue, Orba impolitely replied with the words,

“So what?”

Vileena chuckled.

“For quite a while, I thought you had frightening eyes at times, but now you seem to smile, thinking of something pleasant. Please tell me, you who are about to become my husband – what is it that troubles you on such a fine day, and what on earth is this matter you can’t help but remember?”

The ceremony went on. They had grilled a dragon they just killed this morning, and while they scattered the bones across the base of the valley, the priests chanted their prayers. They called for the souls of the dragons that once ruled this planet to protect the country’s prosperity.

“Could it be that the Ryuujin, if they come back, may not necessarily give this place their blessings?”

Back when humankind landed on this planet, the dragons only roamed the fields and thought of nothing but filling their stomachs, in short, they had degenerated to being on the same level as beasts.

However, they excavated the ruins of enormous cities and artefacts of unknown purpose here and there on the planet, and there also seemed to be traces of a magical civilization that possibly used some form of ''ether''<ref>It's called 'ether', but the author uses the characters for 'Elementary' and 'Magic'</ref>. Humankind was able to wield their first ‘magic’, Zodias, after a while, and this blessing of wisdom was said to have all been obtained from these dragons’ ruins. It was believed that the ancient dragons formed the intelligent body that once governed this planet, probably thousands of years before humankind ultimately arrived.

The custom to call those dragons of old ‘Dragon Gods’ or ‘Ryuujin’ was particularly Mephian, and there was a time it was the religious faith in all of the country. Although it’s now a mere shadow of its former self, for important rituals like these, the priest who presided over the ceremony was selected and summoned from one of the tribes of nomads living in the area near the Mephian border, where the roots of the Ryuujin Faith lay.

“Like I said, it’s nothing.”

Again, Orba briefly ended the conversation.

He had received a brief explanation from the page, Dinn, concerning the history of the Ryuujin Faith, but naturally he didn’t feel too strongly about it. So, he wasn’t able to tell whether Vileena had been joking or not.

''If the real prince’s and this girl’s relations grows awkward after this, I won’t be taking responsibility for it, Fedom-sama.''

On the other hand, Vileena finally gave a sigh, getting lost in her own thoughts. For Garbera, the dragons having a civilization equal to or greater than that of the humans in the past was viewed upon as nothing more than a ‘dragon god’ legend. Therefore she could not experience this ceremony as something sacred. And although she had gotten carelessly and completely bored, when she glanced at the person next to her, Prince Gil – the one who would become her husband when this ceremony was finally over – she couldn’t help but be distracted. So, to slightly stave off her boredom, she tried to tease him a little. But, possibly revealing his ‘true character’, although she tried her best to look like a lady, the prince was genuinely blunt. Not only that, his brief way of talking really got on her nerves.

She wondered if it was because he was embarrassed. During last night’s party, she hadn’t caught wind of his behaviour being resentful against women either. But when she thought he might be a bit like Ryucown, Vileena felt offended by herself. There was no way the bravest general of Garbera resembled someone who was rumoured to be a complete ‘retard’ here in Mephius.

''In any case, this is the same thing as war. To fool the enemy, I have to keep up the pace in this place.''

Vileena maintained her smile, pretending not to be offended. She hoped the prince would fall madly in love with her. However, if he had some sort of love affair with a distant girl, well, she didn’t know whether or not it would be the result. Anyway, it wouldn’t be a problem if she kept smiling.

''Grandfather also told me that he loved my smiling face above all. So in that case, I shouldn’t be mistaken.''

The priests’ tedious prayers would be over soon, and then the sword-slave battles would finally take place.

It was said to be part of the ceremony that, when the dragon bones have turned to ash and are poured over the ground, the lifeblood of men is given. Nevertheless, what they did was hardly any different from your everyday gladiator battles. The only difference was that the introductory remarks were slightly more formal than usual. The arena, a levelled ground at the bottom of the valley with only some pillars staked into the earth, was even simpler than the usual.

There, the gladiators were standing in rows to the east and west sides. Orba recognized Tarkas, Gowen, and a lot of other faces he knew, and an unusually boyish smile appeared on his face.

''I doubt those guys would even imagine I’m right here.''

Although Tarkas was probably furious about him having left so suddenly, exactly because it happened so soon, it wouldn’t occur to him that he’d be looking down from such a high position.

Vileena, on the other hand, despite having been informed of this earlier, was looking on with gloomy thoughts about slaves having to kill each other hereafter. There was no slavery in Garbera, which was the main reason they spoke ill of Mephius as a country of barbarians.

''Unsatisfied with the war, have they wilfully made a show of looking down on slaves and forcing them to kill each other?''

When the divination was over, the first group of people stepped forward. The movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, but perhaps it was because of the unfamiliar environment up until the end of the first round, namely, until the loser was turned into a sprawled corpse on the ground.

In Garbera and Ende, with restrictions on slave companies active in the entertainment industry, there wasn’t an opportunity to see a gladiator fight. So, although the envoys had been prejudiced at first, and although it looked like they might have been enraged as the sound of clashing swords ran about, before long, they ended up bending over the stands, clenching their fists tight, giving cheers along with the people of Mephius, and started giving their applause.

Vileena soon got sick of it. Then, thinking of His Lordship, she again peeked to her side. When she saw a huge, grinning smile on his face, Vileena again felt a renewed disappointment appear. No matter how she looked at it, he clearly enjoyed seeing them kill each other from the bottom of his heart. She had assumed that he would like it, but not to this extent.

Suddenly, she was no longer able to restrain her feelings. The once disdainful feelings for her partner had turned into emotional disgust. It all happened so sudden, and she herself was actually quite perplexed. She was again reminded of how she, until just now, had to constantly try to subdue her emotions. Even though she was the princess of a country who had said she would give priority to her own nation before herself, she was only fourteen years old.

''I can’t, I can’t!''

Vileena strongly clutched her fists in her lap.

''This, too, is a battle. This, too, is a trail, Vileena. My body was given a push in the back and sent forward. I can’t let my spirit lose its strength like this.''

Shique stepped forward at the arena. The cheers concentrated on this unique gladiator, with a decadent white-painted face. Looking at his opponent, however… Orba raised his eyebrows.

''He’s…''

For some reason, it was one of the newcomers Tarkas had hired in his good mood. Taking Shique’s skills into consideration, it was obvious this opponent wasn’t suitably matched. Even if he was able to liven up the battle, Tarkas had struck a bad deal. This would be over in an instant.

Shique readied his trademark dual swords. Both were single-bladed swords of middle length. The newcomer nervously stood ready on the other side. This would be over within the blink of an eye – or so Orba thought at the time.

But while he thought this, he heard a loud rumbling through the ground, which practically shook violently under his feet. During that lapse in time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena.

Those soldiers who looked up at the dust, towards whatever it was, were the first to fall victim. Although they’d gathered around the arena carrying spears and guns, they also hadn’t expected such a sudden occurrence, and were crushed to death underneath a dragon’s forelegs. As soon as the clots of blood painted the ground bright red, a scaled dragon, tinged with slime here and there, emerged from the cloud of dust. The huge-shaped mass was basically stepping forward.

It was a large-type dragon, Sozos. Chains were supposed to be tie to its feet and naturally it should have also be locked up in a cage, but the dragon had become a freed creature, and even more of them appeared all at once.

“Wh-Whaahh!!”

One soldier, stunned by the death of his colleagues, fired his readied gun. The moment he removed his aim, a sharp claw about three times his height swung down on his body and he immediately splattered into a heap of flesh on the ground. Then the other soldiers who were near him, shrieked like women, dropped their guns, and started running away. Their screams and shouts began to sound much like the rumbling in the ground.

“W-What, what’s going on?”

“Why are the dragons on a rampage?”

A large number of people started bellowing at each other underneath their tents. The dragons that were to be used by the gladiators had broken through their cages and were rampaging about. There were some people who picked up swords and guns and headed for the guards, some who ran as fast as they could, and some who spread instructions to their subordinates – mixed in with a lot of other people.

Orba stood up from his chair. For a moment he couldn’t see Shique’s figure from under the cover of the dust cloud. Then one of the gladiators, the one who was the next to go, got kicked hard by a Baian. And another, someone from the Tarkas Group who tried to recklessly lunge at their bellies, got trampled under a Sozos.

Then, he spotted a single, small silhouette among those dragons. It was Hou Ran. She was probably running around in tears trying to stop the dragons. There were several times when she barely escaped being kicked around by the dragons’ legs.

''Lend me a gun.''

Orba came close to shouting those words and taking a rifle from one of the guards. However, he was interrupted halfway as he suddenly he felt a sharp pain at a certain spot on his forehead.

“Ah!”

Guided by impulse and not by reason, Orba quickly concealed his body under the table. Something was flying overhead, high in the sky, at a great speed. Someone with the intent to kill. As it took form, he had a feeling that it was aiming for the ground.

''A sniper!''

Blended in with the sound of the dragon’s feet, the raised screams of the people, and the angry voices, was most definitely the sound of a rifle’s gunshot that rattled his eardrums.

=== Part 2 ===

In the blink of an eye, the arena down below was covered in a cloud of dust. Seeing the turmoil in front of her, which was much like a battlefield, Vileena jumped out of her seat.

Able to see the the rampaging dragons and the many people falling victim to them, her eyes were reflexively trying to look for an airship. If she could cut in from the sky, she might be able to draw the dragons’ attention. There certainly had to be an old-type scouting ship among the number of crafts in the Mephian defence force.

“Hey, you, don’t come any further!”

“How rude, out of all the people that came here, just who – wahh!”

A disturbance occurred among the guards who were standing in an organized line. It wasn’t because of the dragons’ disturbance. There was a man who was running away, aiming straight for them, and although two soldiers tried to hold him back, they were cut down in no time.

''Who the—!?''

She was unable to say a word, as it became a lump of saliva caught in her throat. Getting a glimpse of the bloodied sword, she recognized him for the man that should have been fighting in the arena just now. The Garberan princess barely dodged a single blow swung down from the side. However, tripping over the hem of her long dress, she fell down.

The other guards, distracted by the rampaging dragons, were moving about all over the place. Vileena nimbly rolled over on the ground and snatched a gun from the waist of a soldier who’d been cut down. Sparks jumped out before her. The steel blade had dug into the ground but, within a short interval, he swung it down again.

Vileena’s vision was fixed on the point of the sword, as if she just fallen to the brink of the dark shadow of death. Then, suddenly, a single sword came down from the side, stopping the blow.

“Your opponent is me.”

The words came from behind the man – it was the gladiator who had been fighting him a while ago. His red lips formed into a mysterious smile.

“As soon as the dragons appeared, you headed straight this way. Who are you?”

“Bastard!”

The man shouted in a hoarse voice, without releasing his grip, he rotated his body and pulled out a dagger from his waist. With a movement quick enough to stir up a wind, he aimed for the gladiator’s chest. However, that gladiator – Shique – tilted his shoulders. He swept aside the dagger with his other sword, and thrust his first sword into the man’s chest.

When the man collapsed in front of her with a surprised look in his eyes, Vileena heaved a sigh.

''An assassin…''

It felt like cold hands had taken a hold on her heart. And then, suddenly realizing the situation, she looked over at Prince Gil’s side. He was jumbled together with several other people, hiding under a table. Only his face peeped out, quietly observing the state of his surroundings. Although his safety was most definitely important, it couldn’t be helped that her sense of disappointment in him only grew. When his fiancée had been attacked just now, this man had been quivering all by himself.

Then Vileena accidentally got startled, because Gil looked her way. There was not a hint of fear in his eyes, rather…

“Princess, get over here and lie down,” Gil – although, it was of course actually Orba – suddenly said.

He half-forcingly pulled at a bewildered Vileena’s arm and, after he made her lie down on her stomach like him, called out Shique’s name.
The gladiator froze over with genuine surprise. Seeing him so flabbergasted, Orba was driven by the urge to make a joke, despite the current situation.

“I’m a fan of yours,” he said. He then immediately gave a serious look. “The dragons are only a diversion. There must be a sniper aiming for us here. Find out where he is.”

“Ha, hahah...”

Suddenly being spoken to in person by the prince of his country, although he was basically given an order, even baffled Shique. Orba, however, continued without concern anyway.

“Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can stand in arms cooperate.”

Shique started running, quick to come to action, although he turned his head every now and then. He started running past the dragons that were going mad with blood and devouring several people. While making sure to guard his back, Orba peeked out from under the table. And immediately drew back in again. He repeated the movement several times, until a gunshot also reached Vileena’s ears for the first time.

''A lure?''

She realized that thought with a flash. He’d purposely exposed his body like that to invite the enemy’s gunfire, so that the gladiator named Shique could learn of the enemy’s position. This prince – just what was his true face?

A Sozos climbed up through the mayhem in the valley and was approaching their location.

“Your Highness, Princess! This way!”

Two men rushed in among the guards. Finally someone who acted in the right state of mind had come for them. Orba also decided it was a good time to leave. He stood up and led Vileena by the hand. She didn’t go against him and followed suit.

Orba was running. Maybe he had expected something like this to happen, because he had to act as a double. But right now, he didn’t have the time to think of that. Although he was worried about the safety of the gladiators, Orba decided that, considering that the gunshots had ceased, they were probably all right.

Orba and Vileena, holding each other’s hands, looked over their shoulders several times, as they rushed into a cave underneath the cliffs, led by the soldiers.

“Get into this hidden passage for now. It leads to the other side of the cliffs.”

When the soldier struck one of the pillars in the cave with his fist, the side of the steep cliff wall rotated, opening a space where only one person could pass.

“Go, hurry,” they urged the princess on.

The moment Vileena’s body was pushed inside, the wall somehow rotated again behind her.

“Huh?”

She raised her voice and turned her back when there was only darkness in front of her. There wasn’t a single lamp inside the cave, and although she looked for a switch, she couldn’t find it in the hidden passage. Furthermore, she heard voices on the other side of the wall in some kind of argument.

Surely the enemy hadn’t planned an ambush? – she soon thought.

“Princess Vileena!”

A voice called out to her from behind. Again there were two soldiers in armour, and came from the other side of the passage carrying lamps. However, they weren’t dressed in Mephian gear.

“Princess, make haste over here. A ship is coming to pick you up.”

“Ship? What do you mean by ship?”

“It’s a ship that has come to take you away from these savage lands, to a place more suitable for someone of your noble lineage.”

“You guys…”

While the Vileena was struck with a certain foreboding feeling, something like a gunshot roared from the other side of the thick wall.

It was in the instant Vileena entered the hidden passage.

“Hey, what’s going on!?”

Several soldiers who seemed to be guarding the inside of the cliffs came their way. Then one of the soldiers who had guided Orba quickly struck the pillar again, leaving Vileena alone in the passage she’d entered.

“''We'' don’t know either. But it’s going well.”


As he spoke, he pulled and fired a gun from his back.

Almost at the same time as the guard up front collapsed with a spray of blood, the other soldier was about to lunge into their flanks with a drawn sword. Without having the time to accept the sudden challenge, one soldier, and yet another one, got cut down.

Orba was standing with his back against the wall, watching over this sudden bewildering development. This didn’t look like some internal discord. With the thought that Vileena was in the hidden passage all alone, it was likely that the soldiers who had guided Orba here were involved with the dragon rampage and the sniping at Prince Gil.

Orba gently leaned over, and took a sword from a fallen soldier. He concealed it behind his back for the time being, as the battle before him ended.

“Worthless,” the soldier who’d fired the gun said and turned around to face Orba. “What should we do with the prince here?”

“Let’s keep him hostage. Get over here, you!”

The soldier holding the sword held out his hand. It was the same hand that belonged to the one who, due to the element of surprise, had killed six soldiers in an instant. Not wearing a helmet, his face was beaming with haughtiness.

“W-Who… are you people?”

Trembling, Orba edged sideways with his back against the wall. The two had sneers on their faces, covered with their victims’ blood.

“Hmph, I didn’t know the prince of the Great Imperial Dynasty was this pathetic. After all, he can’t do a thing without his many retainers by his side.”

“A guy like this would become the Vileena-sama’s husband? Ridiculous. He’d sully Garbera’s prestigious blood. Now, Prince Halfwit of Mephius, come!”

Orba screamed and ran away from the man’s outstretched arm.

“I don’t have time to play. Now, if you don’t come quickly.”

As the soldier chased after him with mocking laughter, Orba promptly turned around, and cut him right up front with the sword he’d been hiding. Leaving a trail of blood and an accompanying scream, he jumped over his fallen opponent and quickly stabbed at shoulder of the flustered man holding the gun.

“B-Bastard.”

He drove the pommel of his sword into the man’s face who collapsed on his knees and he fainted.

Then, from the opposite side of the cave, other guardsmen from Mephius showed up. They’d probably caught the sounds of the disturbance. Orba quickly explained to them the circumstances – and ordered them to bind up the unconscious enemies.
After that, he urged them to open up the hidden passage, but it took him quite some time and effort because the soldier in charge wasn’t there.

''I hate enemies who stay hidden and gather knowledge.''

Time was precious. Without fully knowing the reason behind his impatience, Orba privately clicked his tongue.

Several minutes after Vileena had disappeared into the hidden passage, they finally opened the door.

===References and Translation Notes===
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| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter5|Chapter 5]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-01T20:28:12Z

Kiydon:

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-01T20:20:37Z

Kiydon: Article addition.

{{Incomplete|percentage=45}}
== Chapter 4: At Seirin Valley ==

=== Part 1 ===

As far as Simon Rodloom was concerned, Fedom, the Lord of Birac, showed no signs of a change of heart.

Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to strengthening of the Imperial household’s authority, Simon was still a leading aristocrat. He grasped the movements of the other nobles to some extent, their principles and claims, and also intended to understand their situation.

According to Simon’s insights, Fedom was clearly one of the anti-imperial faction.

He had persuaded the emperor, who actually wanted to continue the war with Garbera, and as the leader of the group promoting the peace negotiations, he had built up support for himself amongst the Imperial Court. Although, for a leader, his slight wisdom was partly insufficient, he was much better compared to the other group of corrupted nobles.

However, that Fedom was definitely acting strange. Since last night’s party – no, ever since they headed out for Seirin Valley – he had for some reason been sticking close to Prince Gil, just like a wet nurse poking her nose into people’s business here and there.

''Did he say he’d educate the prince, just to raise him into a puppet doing his will?''

That thought passed through his mind, but wasn’t it a little too late to take such actions now?

Incidentally, it was also related to the prince himself. As far as he knew, Prince Gil and Fedom should have hardly exchanged any words. When the prince hung around with his young friends, Simon had always heard him call the man ‘that manipulative wannabe swine’ behind his back.

How come he seemed to generously accept Fedom’s sudden intimacy or – even worse – seemed to rely on him?

Aside from making sure by meeting with the prince in private, there was a lot of work left for Simon. A delegation from the Principality of Ende had also rushed in for congratulations, although it was unusual that they decided to only a week ago. At first, there had also been talks of Ende and Garbera forming a bond by engaging royal partners, but it had probably been just one of the many things Ende and Garbera had in mind. Simon was pressed to welcome them.

But somewhere else,

“That ungrateful bastard, Orba!”

It was Tarkas, rudely snorting and prowling about in the room.

Even if he’d come over so abruptly, when he thought of the Mephius’ nobleman Fedom’s sudden visit, why had he bought Orba without asking for consent?

“The one who raised him was me! Shit, he was just about to earn his pay as a working swordsman, when of all things he had to be snatched away by some noble…!”

“We do not understand it either, though.”

He had summoned Shique, Gowen and Gilliam, his main swordsmen, at a private room inside the cliffs, established for Tarkas’s use. They were here because he had to change the pairings of the competition due to Orba’s sudden departure.

“So why was it decided that Orba had to suddenly be pulled out? Although that kid may be a good swordsman, he was the so-called spearhead of the games to celebrate the wedding. If he simply wanted to purchase Orba for his abilities, I think they should’ve made him participate in the fights.”

“I would also like to know – that shithead!” Tarkas said. “Even though he was bought by a noble, he could've at least offered himself up for the last battle as a favour. That son of a bitch!”

“Maybe it’s because we were supposed to kill each other. I’ll surely celebrate his new life, but I can’t get used to this feeling, and I’m bothered about him leaving without a single word.”

“Oh, Gilliam. Does even a man like you get lonely when one of his acquaintances leaves?”

“Shut it, Shique! I just regret that I haven’t settled things with that guy!”

“Well, it can’t be helped that he isn’t here. Let’s consider making some exciting pairings,” Gowen said in order to calm everyone down.

Naturally, he also felt a bit strange lately.

He had no time to figure out what had happened. He had to take a look at the condition of the newcomers Tarkas had bought, and because this was different from the usual procedure, he also had to review every single swordsman.

However, something that faintly weighed on Gowen’s mind was whether Orba, who had been looking forward to a future even when his mind and body got beaten down, was now living in that very same future.

While people were busily moving about around him, former gladiator Orba seemed to have time to spare, being practically left on his own.
Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered the words to him, like ventriloquism.

''It’s strange...''

These nobles had snatched away his brother to be a soldier. Not only had they abandoned their village but, of all things, the nobility had aimed its blades at its own citizens and had taken Alice away, causing him to fall into a life of slavery and making him wear that mask.

It might be because of a whim of fate, but none other than one of those Mephian nobles suddenly plucked Orba out of his life of slavery and ordered him to become a substitute for one of leading figures in the imperial family.

Theft, extortion and illegal gun trading – having lived off sipping water from the gutter, he couldn’t help but think he was a laughingstock for the crown prince. Although the fact that he still didn’t know what another day might bring was similar to being a slave.

However – being on the other side of those black plastered streets – perhaps now he could expect to find one spot, yes, just one spot of light. When he becomes the prince’s body double, he’ll have the opportunity to come in contact with leading figures, other than Fedom of course. It wouldn’t be so strange to find the one who burned down his village – General Oubary – among them.

Although Orba had been hit on his head back then and had only seen him for a moment with a dazed glance, for all those two years he’d been a sword-slave, he hadn’t forgotten his face for even a day. Even now it vividly came back to him in his mind.

“Gil-sama.”

''If we meet again.''

''I wonder what I should do then.''

The boy swordsman, who had his mask removed, continued sinking in ceaseless thoughts. He would think of a way to give the guy the most miserable death possible, as long as it was conceivable in this world. Besides, if he was able to meet up with Oubary, he could trace back the lines to the time he got separated from Alice and his mother. Also, although he himself did not expect too much of it – for he couldn’t wish for the unimaginable over and over again and virtually hope for a miracle – if he found other people recruited as soldiers by Oubary, they might know something about his brother Roan’s whereabouts.

“Gil-sama, Prince. Prince Gil!”

“Eh?”

Being spoken to in such a firm voice, Orba looked to his side.

Princess Vileena was sitting at a distance not too far from him. She was in front of the altar, at the place where the valley was at its deepest, looking out over the area. Only Vileena and Orba were sitting in chairs, with a stalwart group of soldiers surroundings them, while at the front of the altar, priests were chanting hymns of prayer and blessing.

“What is it you’re thinking of?”

“Nothing,” Orba replied curtly.

It wasn’t possible for Fedom to be around him during the ceremony, so he’d told him to ‘say nothing’ in the meantime. Turning his face forward, he pretended to be concentrating on the ceremony.

“That’s a lie,” Vileena decided, also in a curt manner.

''What…? A lie?''

The timing was so excellent that Orba couldn’t ignore it, and he again gave the princess of the Kingdom of Garbera a glance.

She was again wearing a dress, but a different one from yesterday’s party, and she wore an informal tiara on her head. This close, it surprised him. Although she seemed like only a little girl the first time they met face to face, when she turned aside with a serious look every once in a while, she looked really mature.

He wondered if it was because of her clear-cut features, although Orba thought her face looked much like a doll’s. At the moment, except for being from a different birth, she seemed almost the same as Orba. Only moving when told to, and only speaking when told to by someone else.

Indeed, when he thought about it, that was what this wedding was all about. Even though she was only fourteen years old, in contrast to her true wishes, she has to become the wife of a man she only first met yesterday, and was of a former enemy country to boot. Although he couldn’t get himself to feel sympathy for someone like her, who was born in a royal family, she seemed to have various hardships of her own as well.

''So, it’s the same for everyone.''

He suddenly remembered that voice.

''– Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. Everybody longs for a world they don’t know, and pursue a meaning in life for which they’ve been born – even if he’s a priest, or royalty.''

''It was just like Roan said'', Orba groaned deep inside.

“You really ''are'' lost in thought.”

When she once again spoke to him out of the blue, Orba impolitely replied with the words,

“So what?”

Vileena chuckled.

“For quite a while, I thought you had frightening eyes at times, but now you seem to smile, thinking of something pleasant. Please tell me, you who are about to become my husband – what is it that troubles you on such a fine day, and what on earth is this matter you can’t help but remember?”

The ceremony went on. They had grilled a dragon they just killed this morning, and while they scattered the bones across the base of the valley, the priests chanted their prayers. They called for the souls of the dragons that once ruled this planet to protect the country’s prosperity.

“Could it be that the Ryuujin, if they come back, may not necessarily give this place their blessings?”

Back when humankind landed on this planet, the dragons only roamed the fields and thought of nothing but filling their stomachs, in short, they had degenerated to being on the same level as beasts.

However, they excavated the ruins of enormous cities and artefacts of unknown purpose here and there on the planet, and there also seemed to be traces of a magical civilization that possibly used some form of ''ether''<ref>It's called 'ether', but the author uses the characters for 'Elementary' and 'Magic'</ref>. Humankind was able to wield their first ‘magic’, Zodias, after a while, and this blessing of wisdom was said to have all been obtained from these dragons’ ruins. It was believed that the ancient dragons formed the intelligent body that once governed this planet, probably thousands of years before humankind ultimately arrived.

The custom to call those dragons of old ‘Dragon Gods’ or ‘Ryuujin’ was particularly Mephian, and there was a time it was the religious faith in all of the country. Although it’s now a mere shadow of its former self, for important rituals like these, the priest who presided over the ceremony was selected and summoned from one of the tribes of nomads living in the area near the Mephian border, where the roots of the Ryuujin Faith lay.

“Like I said, it’s nothing.”

Again, Orba briefly ended the conversation.

He had received a brief explanation from the page, Dinn, concerning the history of the Ryuujin Faith, but naturally he didn’t feel too strongly about it. So, he wasn’t able to tell whether Vileena had been joking or not.

''If the real prince’s and this girl’s relations grows awkward after this, I won’t be taking responsibility for it, Fedom-sama.''

On the other hand, Vileena finally gave a sigh, getting lost in her own thoughts. For Garbera, the dragons having a civilization equal to or greater than that of the humans in the past was viewed upon as nothing more than a ‘dragon god’ legend. Therefore she could not experience this ceremony as something sacred. And although she had gotten carelessly and completely bored, when she glanced at the person next to her, Prince Gil – the one who would become her husband when this ceremony was finally over – she couldn’t help but be distracted. So, to slightly stave off her boredom, she tried to tease him a little. But, possibly revealing his ‘true character’, although she tried her best to look like a lady, the prince was genuinely blunt. Not only that, his brief way of talking really got on her nerves.

She wondered if it was because he was embarrassed. During last night’s party, she hadn’t caught wind of his behaviour being resentful against women either. But when she thought he might be a bit like Ryucown, Vileena felt offended by herself. There was no way the bravest general of Garbera resembled someone who was rumoured to be a complete ‘retard’ here in Mephius.

''In any case, this is the same thing as war. To fool the enemy, I have to keep up the pace in this place.''

Vileena maintained her smile, pretending not to be offended. She hoped the prince would fall madly in love with her. However, if he had some sort of love affair with a distant girl, well, she didn’t know whether or not it would be the result. Anyway, it wouldn’t be a problem if she kept smiling.

''Grandfather also told me that he loved my smiling face above all. So in that case, I shouldn’t be mistaken.''

The priests’ tedious prayers would be over soon, and then the sword-slave battles would finally take place.

It was said to be part of the ceremony that, when the dragon bones have turned to ash and are poured over the ground, the lifeblood of men is given. Nevertheless, what they did was hardly any different from your everyday gladiator battles. The only difference was that the introductory remarks were slightly more formal than usual. The arena, a levelled ground at the bottom of the valley with only some pillars staked into the earth, was even simpler than the usual.

There, the gladiators were standing in rows to the east and west sides. Orba recognized Tarkas, Gowen, and a lot of other faces he knew, and an unusually boyish smile appeared on his face.

''I doubt those guys would even imagine I’m right here.''

Although Tarkas was probably furious about him having left so suddenly, exactly because it happened so soon, it wouldn’t occur to him that he’d be looking down from such a high position.

Vileena, on the other hand, despite having been informed of this earlier, was looking on with gloomy thoughts about slaves having to kill each other hereafter. There was no slavery in Garbera, which was the main reason they spoke ill of Mephius as a country of barbarians.

''Unsatisfied with the war, have they wilfully made a show of looking down on slaves and forcing them to kill each other?''

When the divination was over, the first group of people stepped forward. The movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, but perhaps it was because of the unfamiliar environment up until the end of the first round, namely, until the loser was turned into a sprawled corpse on the ground.

In Garbera and Ende, with restrictions on slave companies active in the entertainment industry, there wasn’t an opportunity to see a gladiator fight. So, although the envoys had been prejudiced at first, and although it looked like they might have been enraged as the sound of clashing swords ran about, before long, they ended up bending over the stands, clenching their fists tight, giving cheers along with the people of Mephius, and started giving their applause.

Vileena soon got sick of it. Then, thinking of His Lordship, she again peeked to her side. When she saw a huge, grinning smile on his face, Vileena again felt a renewed disappointment appear. No matter how she looked at it, he clearly enjoyed seeing them kill each other from the bottom of his heart. She had assumed that he would like it, but not to this extent.

Suddenly, she was no longer able to restrain her feelings. The once disdainful feelings for her partner had turned into emotional disgust. It all happened so sudden, and she herself was actually quite perplexed. She was again reminded of how she, until just now, had to constantly try to subdue her emotions. Even though she was the princess of a country who had said she would give priority to her own nation before herself, she was only fourteen years old.

''I can’t, I can’t!''

Vileena strongly clutched her fists in her lap.

''This, too, is a battle. This, too, is a trail, Vileena. My body was given a push in the back and sent forward. I can’t let my spirit lose its strength like this.''

Shique stepped forward at the arena. The cheers concentrated on this unique gladiator, with a decadent white-painted face. Looking at his opponent, however… Orba raised his eyebrows.

''He’s…''

For some reason, it was one of the newcomers Tarkas had hired in his good mood. Taking Shique’s skills into consideration, it was obvious this opponent wasn’t suitably matched. Even if he was able to liven up the battle, Tarkas had struck a bad deal. This would be over in an instant.

Shique readied his trademark dual swords. Both were single-bladed swords of middle length. The newcomer nervously stood ready on the other side. This would be over within the blink of an eye – or so Orba thought at the time.

But while he thought this, he heard a loud rumbling through the ground, which practically shook violently under his feet. During that lapse in time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena.

Those soldiers who looked up at the dust, towards whatever it was, were the first to fall victim. Although they’d gathered around the arena carrying spears and guns, they also hadn’t expected such a sudden occurrence, and were crushed to death underneath a dragon’s forelegs. As soon as the clots of blood painted the ground bright red, a scaled dragon, tinged with slime here and there, emerged from the cloud of dust. The huge-shaped mass was basically stepping forward.

It was a large-type dragon, Sozos. Chains were supposed to be tie to its feet and naturally it should have also be locked up in a cage, but the dragon had become a freed creature, and even more of them appeared all at once.

“Wh-Whaahh!!”

One soldier, stunned by the death of his colleagues, fired his readied gun. The moment he removed his aim, a sharp claw about three times his height swung down on his body and he immediately splattered into a heap of flesh on the ground. Then the other soldiers who were near him, shrieked like women, dropped their guns, and started running away. Their screams and shouts began to sound much like the rumbling in the ground.

“W-What, what’s going on?”

“Why are the dragons on a rampage?”

A large number of people started bellowing at each other underneath their tents. The dragons that were to be used by the gladiators had broken through their cages and were rampaging about. There were some people who picked up swords and guns and headed for the guards, some who ran as fast as they could, and some who spread instructions to their subordinates – mixed in with a lot of other people.

Orba stood up from his chair. For a moment he couldn’t see Shique’s figure from under the cover of the dust cloud. Then one of the gladiators, the one who was the next to go, got kicked hard by a Baian. And another, someone from the Tarkas Group who tried to recklessly lunge at their bellies, got trampled under a Sozos.

Then, he spotted a single, small silhouette among those dragons. It was Hou Ran. She was probably running around in tears trying to stop the dragons. There were several times when she barely escaped being kicked around by the dragons’ legs.

''Lend me a gun.''

Orba came close to shouting those words and taking a rifle from one of the guards. However, he was interrupted halfway as he suddenly he felt a sharp pain at a certain spot on his forehead.

“Ah!”

Guided by impulse and not by reason, Orba quickly concealed his body under the table. Something was flying overhead, high in the sky, at a great speed. Someone with the intent to kill. As it took form, he had a feeling that it was aiming for the ground.

''A sniper!''

Blended in with the sound of the dragon’s feet, the raised screams of the people, and the angry voices, was most definitely the sound of a rifle’s gunshot that rattled his eardrums.

=== Part 2 ===

In the blink of an eye, the arena down below was covered in a cloud of dust. Seeing the turmoil in front of her, which was much like a battlefield, Vileena jumped out of her seat.

Able to see the the rampaging dragons and the many people falling victim to them, her eyes were reflexively trying to look for an airship. If she could cut in from the sky, she might be able to draw the dragons’ attention. There certainly had to be an old-type scouting ship among the number of crafts in the Mephian defence force.

“Hey, you, don’t come any further!”

“How rude, out of all the people that came here, just who – wahh!”

A disturbance occurred among the guards who were standing in an organized line. It wasn’t because of the dragons’ disturbance. There was a man who was running away, aiming straight for them, and although two soldiers tried to hold him back, they were cut down in no time.

''Who the—!?''

She was unable to say a word, as it became a lump of saliva caught in her throat. Getting a glimpse of the bloodied sword, she recognized him for the man that should have been fighting in the arena just now. The Garberan princess barely dodged a single blow swung down from the side. However, tripping over the hem of her long dress, she fell down.

The other guards, distracted by the rampaging dragons, were moving about all over the place. Vileena nimbly rolled over on the ground and snatched a gun from the waist of a soldier who’d been cut down. Sparks jumped out before her. The steel blade had dug into the ground but, within a short interval, he swung it down again.

Vileena’s vision was fixed on the point of the sword, as if she just fallen to the brink of the dark shadow of death. Then, suddenly, a single sword came down from the side, stopping the blow.

“Your opponent is me.”

The words came from behind the man – it was the gladiator who had been fighting him a while ago. His red lips formed into a mysterious smile.

“As soon as the dragons appeared, you headed straight this way. Who are you?”

“Bastard!”

The man shouted in a hoarse voice, without releasing his grip, he rotated his body and pulled out a dagger from his waist. With a movement quick enough to stir up a wind, he aimed for the gladiator’s chest. However, that gladiator – Shique – tilted his shoulders. He swept aside the dagger with his other sword, and thrust his first sword into the man’s chest.

When the man collapsed in front of her with a surprised look in his eyes, Vileena heaved a sigh.

''An assassin…''

It felt like cold hands had taken a hold on her heart. And then, suddenly realizing the situation, she looked over at Prince Gil’s side. He was jumbled together with several other people, hiding under a table. Only his face peeped out, quietly observing the state of his surroundings. Although his safety was most definitely important, it couldn’t be helped that her sense of disappointment in him only grew. When his fiancée had been attacked just now, this man had been quivering all by himself.

Then Vileena accidentally got startled, because Gil looked her way. There was not a hint of fear in his eyes, rather…

“Princess, get over here and lie down,” Gil – although, it was of course actually Orba – suddenly said.

He half-forcingly pulled at a bewildered Vileena’s arm and, after he made her lie down on her stomach like him, called out Shique’s name.
The gladiator froze over with genuine surprise. Seeing him so flabbergasted, Orba was driven by the urge to make a joke, despite the current situation.

“I’m a fan of yours,” he said. He then immediately gave a serious look. “The dragons are only a diversion. There must be a sniper aiming for us here. Find out where he is.”

“Ha, hahah...”

Suddenly being spoken to in person by the prince of his country, although he was basically given an order, even baffled Shique. Orba, however, continued without concern anyway.

“Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can stand in arms cooperate.”

Shique started running, quick to come into action, although he turned his head every now and then. He started running past the dragons that were going mad with blood, and devouring several people. While making sure to guard his back, Orba peeked out from under the table. And immediately drew back in again. He repeated the movement several times, until a gunshot also reached Vileena’s ears for the first time.

''A lure?''

She realized that thought with a flash. He’d purposely exposed his body like that to invite the enemy’s gunfire, so that the gladiator named Shique could learn the enemy’s position. This prince – just what was his true face?

A Sozos climbed up through the mayhem in the valley and was approaching their location.

“Your Highness, Princess! This way!”

Two men rushed in among the guards. Finally someone who acted in the right state of mind had come for them. Orba also decided it was a good time to leave. He stood up and led Vileena by the hand. She didn’t go against him and followed suit.

Orba was running. Maybe he had expected something like this to happen, because he had to act as a double. But right now, he didn’t have the time to think of that. Although he was worried about the safety of the gladiators, Orba decided that, considering that the gunshots had ceased, they were probably all right.

Orba and Vileena, holding each other’s hands, looked over their shoulders several times, as they rushed into a cave underneath the cliffs, led by the soldiers.

“Get into this hidden passage for now. It leads to the other side of the cliffs.”

When the soldier struck one of the pillars in the cave with his fist, the side of the steep cliff wall rotated, opening a space where only one person could pass.

“Go, hurry,” they urged the princess on.

The moment Vileena’s body was pushed inside, the wall somehow rotated again behind her.

“Huh?”

She raised her voice and turned her back when there was only darkness in front of her. There wasn’t a single lamp inside the cave, and although she looked for a switch, she couldn’t find it in the hidden passage. Furthermore, she heard voices on the other side of the wall from some kind of argument.

Surely the enemy hadn’t planned an ambush? – she soon thought.

“Princess Vileena!”

A voice called out to her from behind. Again they were two soldiers in armour, and came from the other side of the passage carrying lamps. However, they weren’t dressed in Mephian gear.

“Princess, make haste over here. A ship is coming to pick you up.”

“Ship? What do you mean by ship?”

“It’s a ship that has come to take you away from these savage lands, to a place more suitable for someone of your noble lineage.”

“You guys…”

While the Vileena was struck with a certain foreboding feeling, something like a gunshot roared from the other side of the thick wall.

It was in the instant Vileena entered the hidden passage.

“Hey, what’s going on!?”

Several soldiers who seemed to be guarding the inside of the cliffs came their way. Then one of the soldiers who had guided Orba quickly struck the pillar again, leaving Vileena alone in the passage she’d entered.

“''We'' don’t know either. But it’s going well.”


As he spoke, he pulled and fired a gun from his back.

Almost at the same time as the guard up front collapsed with a spray of blood, the other soldier was about to lunge into their flanks with a drawn sword. Without having the time to accept the sudden challenge, one soldier, and yet another one, got cut down.

Orba was standing with his back against the wall, watching over this sudden bewildering development. This didn’t look like some internal discord. With the thought that Vileena was in the hidden passage all alone, it was likely that the soldiers who had guided Orba here were involved with the dragon rampage and the sniping at Prince Gil.

Orba gently leaned over, and took a sword from a fallen soldier. He concealed it behind his back for the time being, as the battle before him ended.

“Worthless,” the soldier who’d fired the gun said and turned around to face Orba. “What should we do with the prince here?”

“Let’s keep him hostage. Get over here, you!”

The soldier holding the sword held out his hand. It was the same hand that belonged to the one who, due to the element of surprise, had killed six soldiers in an instant. Not wearing a helmet, his face was beaming with haughtiness.

“W-Who… are you people?”

Trembling, Orba edged sideways with his back against the wall. The two had sneers on their faces, covered with their victims’ blood.

“Hmph, I didn’t know the prince of the Great Imperial Dynasty was this pathetic. After all, he can’t do a thing without his many retainers by his side.”

“A guy like this would become the Vileena-sama’s husband? Ridiculous. He’d sully Garbera’s prestigious blood. Now, Prince Halfwit of Mephius, come!”

Orba screamed and ran away from the man’s outstretched arm.

“I don’t have time to play. Now, if you don’t come quickly.”

As the soldier chased after him with mocking laughter, Orba promptly turned around, and cut him right up front with the sword he’d been hiding. Leaving a trail of blood and an accompanying scream, he jumped over his fallen opponent and quickly stabbed at shoulder of the flustered man holding the gun.

“B-Bastard.”

He drove the pommel of his sword into the man’s face who collapsed on his knees and fainted.

Then, from the opposite side of the cave, other guardsmen from Mephius showed up. They’d probably caught the sounds of the disturbance. Orba quickly explained to them the circumstances – and ordered them to bind up the unconscious enemy.
After that, he urged them to open up the hidden passage, but it took him quite some time and effort because the soldier in charge wasn’t there.

''I hate enemies who stay hidden and gather knowledge.''

Time was precious. Without fully knowing the reason behind his impatience, Orba privately clicked his tongue.

Several minutes after Vileena had disappeared into the hidden passage, they finally opened the door.

===References and Translation Notes===
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| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter5|Chapter 5]]
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</noinclude>

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-01T20:16:23Z

Kiydon: Minor fix, location.

{{Incomplete|percentage=45}}
== Chapter 4: At Seirin Valley ==

=== Part 1 ===

As far as Simon Rodloom was concerned, Fedom, the Lord of Birac, showed no signs of a change of heart.

Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to strengthening of the Imperial household’s authority, Simon was still a leading aristocrat. He grasped the movements of the other nobles to some extent, their principles and claims, and also intended to understand their situation.

According to Simon’s insights, Fedom was clearly one of the anti-imperial faction.

He had persuaded the emperor, who actually wanted to continue the war with Garbera, and as the leader of the group promoting the peace negotiations, he had built up support for himself amongst the Imperial Court. Although, for a leader, his slight wisdom was partly insufficient, he was much better compared to the other group of corrupted nobles.

However, that Fedom was definitely acting strange. Since last night’s party – no, ever since they headed out for Seirin Valley – he had for some reason been sticking close to Prince Gil, just like a wet nurse poking her nose into people’s business here and there.

''Did he say he’d educate the prince, just to raise him into a puppet doing his will?''

That thought passed through his mind, but wasn’t it a little too late to take such actions now?

Incidentally, it was also related to the prince himself. As far as he knew, Prince Gil and Fedom should have hardly exchanged any words. When the prince hung around with his young friends, Simon had always heard him call the man ‘that manipulative wannabe swine’ behind his back.

How come he seemed to generously accept Fedom’s sudden intimacy or – even worse – seemed to rely on him?

Aside from making sure by meeting with the prince in private, there was a lot of work left for Simon. A delegation from the Principality of Ende had also rushed in for congratulations, although it was unusual that they decided to only a week ago. At first, there had also been talks of Ende and Garbera forming a bond by engaging royal partners, but it had probably been just one of the many things Ende and Garbera had in mind. Simon was pressed to welcome them.

But somewhere else,

“That ungrateful bastard, Orba!”

It was Tarkas, rudely snorting and prowling about in the room.

Even if he’d come over so abruptly, when he thought of the Mephius’ nobleman Fedom’s sudden visit, why had he bought Orba without asking for consent?

“The one who raised him was me! Shit, he was just about to earn his pay as a working swordsman, when of all things he had to be snatched away by some noble…!”

“We do not understand it either, though.”

He had summoned Shique, Gowen and Gilliam, his main swordsmen, at a private room inside the cliffs, established for Tarkas’s use. They were here because he had to change the pairings of the competition due to Orba’s sudden departure.

“So why was it decided that Orba had to suddenly be pulled out? Although that kid may be a good swordsman, he was the so-called spearhead of the games to celebrate the wedding. If he simply wanted to purchase Orba for his abilities, I think they should’ve made him participate in the fights.”

“I would also like to know – that shithead!” Tarkas said. “Even though he was bought by a noble, he could've at least offered himself up for the last battle as a favour. That son of a bitch!”

“Maybe it’s because we were supposed to kill each other. I’ll surely celebrate his new life, but I can’t get used to this feeling, and I’m bothered about him leaving without a single word.”

“Oh, Gilliam. Does even a man like you get lonely when one of his acquaintances leaves?”

“Shut it, Shique! I just regret that I haven’t settled things with that guy!”

“Well, it can’t be helped that he isn’t here. Let’s consider making some exciting pairings,” Gowen said in order to calm everyone down.

Naturally, he also felt a bit strange lately.

He had no time to figure out what had happened. He had to take a look at the condition of the newcomers Tarkas had bought, and because this was different from the usual procedure, he also had to review every single swordsman.

However, something that faintly weighed on Gowen’s mind was whether Orba, who had been looking forward to a future even when his mind and body got beaten down, was now living in that very same future.

While people were busily moving about around him, former gladiator Orba seemed to have time to spare, being practically left on his own.
Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered the words to him, like ventriloquism.

''It’s strange...''

These nobles had snatched away his brother to be a soldier. Not only had they abandoned their village but, of all things, the nobility had aimed its blades at its own citizens and had taken Alice away, causing him to fall into a life of slavery and making him wear that mask.

It might be because of a whim of fate, but none other than one of those Mephian nobles suddenly plucked Orba out of his life of slavery and ordered him to become a substitute for one of leading figures in the imperial family.

Theft, extortion and illegal gun trading – having lived off sipping water from the gutter, he couldn’t help but think he was a laughingstock for the crown prince. Although the fact that he still didn’t know what another day might bring was similar to being a slave.

However – being on the other side of those black plastered streets – perhaps now he could expect to find one spot, yes, just one spot of light. When he becomes the prince’s body double, he’ll have the opportunity to come in contact with leading figures, other than Fedom of course. It wouldn’t be so strange to find the one who burned down his village – General Oubary – among them.

Although Orba had been hit on his head back then and had only seen him for a moment with a dazed glance, for all those two years he’d been a sword-slave, he hadn’t forgotten his face for even a day. Even now it vividly came back to him in his mind.

“Gil-sama.”

''If we meet again.''

''I wonder what I should do then.''

The boy swordsman, who had his mask removed, continued sinking in ceaseless thoughts. He would think of a way to give the guy the most miserable death possible, as long as it was conceivable in this world. Besides, if he was able to meet up with Oubary, he could trace back the lines to the time he got separated from Alice and his mother. Also, although he himself did not expect too much of it – for he couldn’t wish for the unimaginable over and over again and virtually hope for a miracle – if he found other people recruited as soldiers by Oubary, they might know something about his brother Roan’s whereabouts.

“Gil-sama, Prince. Prince Gil!”

“Eh?”

Being spoken to in such a firm voice, Orba looked to his side.

Princess Vileena was sitting at a distance not too far from him. She was in front of the altar, at the place where the valley was at its deepest, looking out over the area. Only Vileena and Orba were sitting in chairs, with a stalwart group of soldiers surroundings them, while at the front of the altar, priests were chanting hymns of prayer and blessing.

“What is it you’re thinking of?”

“Nothing,” Orba replied curtly.

It wasn’t possible for Fedom to be around him during the ceremony, so he’d told him to ‘say nothing’ in the meantime. Turning his face forward, he pretended to be concentrating on the ceremony.

“That’s a lie,” Vileena decided, also in a curt manner.

''What…? A lie?''

The timing was so excellent that Orba couldn’t ignore it, and he again gave the princess of the Kingdom of Garbera a glance.

She was again wearing a dress, but a different one from yesterday’s party, and she wore an informal tiara on her head. This close, it surprised him. Although she seemed like only a little girl the first time they met face to face, when she turned aside with a serious look every once in a while, she looked really mature.

He wondered if it was because of her clear-cut features, although Orba thought her face looked much like a doll’s. At the moment, except for being from a different birth, she seemed almost the same as Orba. Only moving when told to, and only speaking when told to by someone else.

Indeed, when he thought about it, that was what this wedding was all about. Even though she was only fourteen years old, in contrast to her true wishes, she has to become the wife of a man she only first met yesterday, and was of a former enemy country to boot. Although he couldn’t get himself to feel sympathy for someone like her, who was born in a royal family, she seemed to have various hardships of her own as well.

''So, it’s the same for everyone.''

He suddenly remembered that voice.

''– Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. Everybody longs for a world they don’t know, and pursue a meaning in life for which they’ve been born – even if he’s a priest, or royalty.''

''It was just like Roan said'', Orba groaned deep inside.

“You really ''are'' lost in thought.”

When she once again spoke to him out of the blue, Orba impolitely replied with the words,

“So what?”

Vileena chuckled.

“For quite a while, I thought you had frightening eyes at times, but now you seem to smile, thinking of something pleasant. Please tell me, you who are about to become my husband – what is it that troubles you on such a fine day, and what on earth is this matter you can’t help but remember?”

The ceremony went on. They had grilled a dragon they just killed this morning, and while they scattered the bones across the base of the valley, the priests chanted their prayers. They called for the souls of the dragons that once ruled this planet to protect the country’s prosperity.

“Could it be that the Ryuujin, if they come back, may not necessarily give this place their blessings?”

Back when humankind landed on this planet, the dragons only roamed the fields and thought of nothing but filling their stomachs, in short, they had degenerated to being on the same level as beasts.

However, they excavated the ruins of enormous cities and artefacts of unknown purpose here and there on the planet, and there also seemed to be traces of a magical civilization that possibly used some form of ''ether''<ref>It's called 'ether', but the author uses the characters for 'Elementary' and 'Magic'</ref>. Humankind was able to wield their first ‘magic’, Zodias, after a while, and this blessing of wisdom was said to have all been obtained from these dragons’ ruins. It was believed that the ancient dragons formed the intelligent body that once governed this planet, probably thousands of years before humankind ultimately arrived.

The custom to call those dragons of old ‘Dragon Gods’ or ‘Ryuujin’ was particularly Mephian, and there was a time it was the religious faith in all of the country. Although it’s now a mere shadow of its former self, for important rituals like these, the priest who presided over the ceremony was selected and summoned from one of the tribes of nomads living in the area near the Mephian border, where the roots of the Ryuujin Faith lay.

“Like I said, it’s nothing.”

Again, Orba briefly ended the conversation.

He had received a brief explanation from the page, Dinn, concerning the history of the Ryuujin Faith, but naturally he didn’t feel too strongly about it. So, he wasn’t able to tell whether Vileena had been joking or not.

''If the real prince’s and this girl’s relations grows awkward after this, I won’t be taking responsibility for it, Fedom-sama.''

On the other hand, Vileena finally gave a sigh, getting lost in her own thoughts. For Garbera, the dragons having a civilization equal to or greater than that of the humans in the past was viewed upon as nothing more than a ‘dragon god’ legend. Therefore she could not experience this ceremony as something sacred. And although she had gotten carelessly and completely bored, when she glanced at the person next to her, Prince Gil – the one who would become her husband when this ceremony was finally over – she couldn’t help but be distracted. So, to slightly stave off her boredom, she tried to tease him a little. But, possibly revealing his ‘true character’, although she tried her best to look like a lady, the prince was genuinely blunt. Not only that, his brief way of talking really got on her nerves.

She wondered if it was because he was embarrassed. During last night’s party, she hadn’t caught wind of his behaviour being resentful against women either. But when she thought he might be a bit like Ryucown, Vileena felt offended by herself. There was no way the bravest general of Garbera resembled someone who was rumoured to be a complete ‘retard’ here in Mephius.

''In any case, this is the same thing as war. To fool the enemy, I have to keep up the pace in this place.''

Vileena maintained her smile, pretending not to be offended. She hoped the prince would fall madly in love with her. However, if he had some sort of love affair with a distant girl, well, she didn’t know whether or not it would be the result. Anyway, it wouldn’t be a problem if she kept smiling.

''Grandfather also told me that he loved my smiling face above all. So in that case, I shouldn’t be mistaken.''

The priests’ tedious prayers would be over soon, and then the sword-slave battles would finally take place.

It was said to be part of the ceremony that, when the dragon bones have turned to ash and are poured over the ground, the lifeblood of men is given. Nevertheless, what they did was hardly any different from your everyday gladiator battles. The only difference was that the introductory remarks were slightly more formal than usual. The arena, a levelled ground at the bottom of the valley with only some pillars staked into the earth, was even simpler than the usual.

There, the gladiators were standing in rows to the east and west sides. Orba recognized Tarkas, Gowen, and a lot of other faces he knew, and an unusually boyish smile appeared on his face.

''I doubt those guys would even imagine I’m right here.''

Although Tarkas was probably furious about him having left so suddenly, exactly because it happened so soon, it wouldn’t occur to him that he’d be looking down from such a high position.

Vileena, on the other hand, despite having been informed of this earlier, was looking on with gloomy thoughts about slaves having to kill each other hereafter. There was no slavery in Garbera, which was the main reason they spoke ill of Mephius as a country of barbarians.

''Unsatisfied with the war, have they wilfully made a show of looking down on slaves and forcing them to kill each other?''

When the divination was over, the first group of people stepped forward. The movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, but perhaps it was because of the unfamiliar environment up until the end of the first round, namely, until the loser was turned into a sprawled corpse on the ground.

In Garbera and Ende, with restrictions on slave companies active in the entertainment industry, there wasn’t an opportunity to see a gladiator fight. So, although the envoys had been prejudiced at first, and although it looked like they might have been enraged as the sound of clashing swords ran about, before long, they ended up bending over the stands, clenching their fists tight, giving cheers along with the people of Mephius, and started giving their applause.

Vileena soon got sick of it. Then, thinking of His Lordship, she again peeked to her side. When she saw a huge, grinning smile on his face, Vileena again felt a renewed disappointment appear. No matter how she looked at it, he clearly enjoyed seeing them kill each other from the bottom of his heart. She had assumed that he would like it, but not to this extent.

Suddenly, she was no longer able to restrain her feelings. The once disdainful feelings for her partner had turned into emotional disgust. It all happened so sudden, and she herself was actually quite perplexed. She was again reminded of how she, until just now, had to constantly try to subdue her emotions. Even though she was the princess of a country who had said she would give priority to her own nation before herself, she was only fourteen years old.

''I can’t, I can’t!''

Vileena strongly clutched her fists in her lap.

''This, too, is a battle. This, too, is a trail, Vileena. My body was given a push in the back and sent forward. I can’t let my spirit lose its strength like this.''

Shique stepped forward at the arena. The cheers concentrated on this unique gladiator, with a decadent white-painted face. Looking at his opponent, however… Orba raised his eyebrows.

''He’s…''

For some reason, it was one of the newcomers Tarkas had hired in his good mood. Taking Shique’s skills into consideration, it was obvious this opponent wasn’t suitably matched. Even if he was able to liven up the battle, Tarkas had struck a bad deal. This would be over in an instant.

Shique readied his trademark dual swords. Both were single-bladed swords of middle length. The newcomer nervously stood ready on the other side. This would be over within the blink of an eye – or so Orba thought at the time.

But while he thought this, he heard a loud rumbling through the ground, which practically shook violently under his feet. During that lapse in time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena.

Those soldiers who looked up at the dust, towards whatever it was, were the first to fall victim. Although they’d gathered around the arena carrying spears and guns, they also hadn’t expected such a sudden occurrence, and were crushed to death underneath a dragon’s forelegs. As soon as the clots of blood painted the ground bright red, a scaled dragon, tinged with slime here and there, emerged from the cloud of dust. The huge-shaped mass was basically stepping forward.

It was a large-type dragon, Sozos. Chains were supposed to be tie to its feet and naturally it should have also be locked up in a cage, but the dragon had become a freed creature, and even more of them appeared all at once.

“Wh-Whaahh!!”

One soldier, stunned by the death of his colleagues, fired his readied gun. The moment he removed his aim, a sharp claw about three times his height swung down on his body and he immediately splattered into a heap of flesh on the ground. Then the other soldiers who were near him, shrieked like women, dropped their guns, and started running away. Their screams and shouts began to sound much like the rumbling in the ground.

“W-What, what’s going on?”

“Why are the dragons on a rampage?”

A large number of people started bellowing at each other underneath their tents. The dragons that were to be used by the gladiators had broken through their cages and were rampaging about. There were some people who picked up swords and guns and headed for the guards, some who ran as fast as they could, and some who spread instructions to their subordinates – mixed in with a lot of other people.

Orba stood up from his chair. For a moment he couldn’t see Shique’s figure from under the cover of the dust cloud. Then one of the gladiators, the one who was the next to go, got kicked hard by a Baian. And another, someone from the Tarkas Group who tried to recklessly lunge at their bellies, got trampled under a Sozos.

Then, he spotted a single, small silhouette among those dragons. It was Hou Ran. She was probably running around in tears trying to stop the dragons. There were several times when she barely escaped being kicked around by the dragons’ legs.

''Lend me a gun.''

Orba came close to shouting those words and taking a rifle from one of the guards. However, he was interrupted halfway as he suddenly he felt a sharp pain at a certain spot on his forehead.

“Ah!”

Guided by impulse and not by reason, Orba quickly concealed his body under the table. Something was flying overhead, high in the sky, at a great speed. Someone with the intent to kill. As it took form, he had a feeling that it was aiming for the ground.

''A sniper!''

Blended in with the sound of the dragon’s feet, the raised screams of the people, and the angry voices, was most definitely the sound of a rifle’s gunshot that rattled his eardrums.

=== Part 2 ===

In the blink of an eye, the arena down below was covered in a cloud of dust. Seeing the turmoil in front of her, which was much like a battlefield, Vileena jumped out of her seat.

Able to see the the rampaging dragons and the many people falling victim to them, her eyes were reflexively trying to look for an airship. If she could cut in from the sky, she might be able to draw the dragons’ attention. There certainly had to be an old-type scouting ship among the number of crafts in the Mephian defence force.

“Hey, you, don’t come any further!”

“How rude, out of all the people that came here, just who – wahh!”

A disturbance occurred among the guards who were standing in an organized line. It wasn’t because of the dragons’ disturbance. There was a man who was running away, aiming straight for them, and although two soldiers tried to hold him back, they were cut down in no time.

''Who the—!?''

She was unable to say a word, as it became a lump of saliva caught in her throat. Getting a glimpse of the bloodied sword, she recognized him for the man that should have been fighting in the arena just now. The Garberan princess barely dodged a single blow swung down from the side. However, tripping over the hem of her long dress, she fell down.

The other guards, distracted by the rampaging dragons, were moving about all over the place. Vileena nimbly rolled over on the ground and snatched a gun from the waist of a soldier who’d been cut down. Sparks jumped out before her. The steel blade had dug into the ground but, within a short interval, he swung it down again.

Vileena’s vision was fixed on the point of the sword, as if she just fallen to the brink of the dark shadow of death. Then, suddenly, a single sword came down from the side, stopping the blow.

“Your opponent is me.”

The words came from behind the man – it was the gladiator who had been fighting him a while ago. His red lips formed into a mysterious smile.

“As soon as the dragons appeared, you headed straight this way. Who are you?”

“Bastard!”

The man shouted in a hoarse voice, without releasing his grip, he rotated his body and pulled out a dagger from his waist. With a movement quick enough to stir up a wind, he aimed for the gladiator’s chest. However, that gladiator – Shique – tilted his shoulders. He swept aside the dagger with his other sword, and thrust his first sword into the man’s chest.

When the man collapsed in front of her with a surprised look in his eyes, Vileena heaved a sigh.

''An assassin…''

It felt like cold hands had taken a hold on her heart. And then, suddenly realizing the situation, she looked over at Prince Gil’s side. He was jumbled together with several other people, hiding under a table. Only his face peeped out, quietly observing the state of his surroundings. Although his safety was most definitely important, it couldn’t be helped that her sense of disappointment in him only grew. When his fiancée had been attacked just now, this man had been quivering all by himself.

Then Vileena accidentally got startled, because Gil looked her way. There was not a hint of fear in his eyes, rather…

“Princess, get over here and lie down,” Gil – although, it was of course actually Orba – suddenly said.

He half-forcingly pulled at a bewildered Vileena’s arm and, after he made her lie down on her stomach like him, called out Shique’s name.
The gladiator froze over with genuine surprise. Seeing him so flabbergasted, Orba was driven by the urge to make joke, despite the current situation.

“I’m a fan of yours,” he said. He then immediately gave a serious look. “The dragons are only a diversion. There must be a sniper aiming for us here. Find out where he is.”

“Ha, hahah...”

Suddenly being spoken to in person by the prince of his country, although he was basically given an order, even baffled Shique. Orba, however, continued without concern anyway.

“Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can stand in arms cooperate.”

Shique started running, quick to come into action, although he turned his head every now and then. He started running past the dragons that were going mad with blood, and devouring several people. While making sure to guard his back, Orba peeked out from under the table. And immediately drew back in again. He repeated the movement several times, until a gunshot also reached Vileena’s ears for the first time.

''A lure?''

She realized that thought with a flash. He’d purposely exposed his body like that to invite the enemy’s gunfire, so that the gladiator named Shique could learn the enemy’s position. This prince – just what was his true face?

A Sozos climbed up through the mayhem in the valley and was approaching their location.

“Your Highness, Princess! This way!”

Two men rushed in among the guards. Finally someone who acted in the right state of mind had come for them. Orba also decided it was a good time to leave. He stood up and led Vileena by the hand. She didn’t go against him and followed suit.

Orba was running. Maybe he had expected something like this to happen, because he had to act as a double. But right now, he didn’t have the time to think of that. Although he was worried about the safety of the gladiators, Orba decided that, considering that the gunshots had ceased, they were probably all right.

Orba and Vileena, holding each other’s hands, looked over their shoulders several times, as they rushed into a cave underneath the cliffs, led by the soldiers.

“Get into this hidden passage for now. It leads to the other side of the cliffs.”

When the soldier struck one of the pillars in the cave with his fist, the side of the steep cliff wall rotated, opening a space where only one person could pass.

“Go, hurry,” they urged the princess on.

The moment Vileena’s body was pushed inside, the wall somehow rotated again behind her.

“Huh?”

She raised her voice and turned her back when there was only darkness in front of her. There wasn’t a single lamp inside the cave, and although she looked for a switch, she couldn’t find it in the hidden passage. Furthermore, she heard voices on the other side of the wall from some kind of argument.

Surely the enemy hadn’t planned an ambush? – she soon thought.

“Princess Vileena!”

A voice called out to her from behind. Again they were two soldiers in armour, and came from the other side of the passage carrying lamps. However, they weren’t dressed in Mephian gear.

“Princess, make haste over here. A ship is coming to pick you up.”

“Ship? What do you mean by ship?”

“It’s a ship that has come to take you away from these savage lands, to a place more suitable for someone of your noble lineage.”

“You guys…”

While the Vileena was struck with a certain foreboding feeling, something like a gunshot roared from the other side of the thick wall.

It was in the instant Vileena entered the hidden passage.

“Hey, what’s going on!?”

Several soldiers who seemed to be guarding the inside of the cliffs came their way. Then one of the soldiers who had guided Orba quickly struck the pillar again, leaving Vileena alone in the passage she’d entered.

“''We'' don’t know either. But it’s going well.”


As he spoke, he pulled and fired a gun from his back.

Almost at the same time as the guard up front collapsed with a spray of blood, the other soldier was about to lunge into their flanks with a drawn sword. Without having the time to accept the sudden challenge, one soldier, and yet another one, got cut down.

Orba was standing with his back against the wall, watching over this sudden bewildering development. This didn’t look like some internal discord. With the thought that Vileena was in the hidden passage all alone, it was likely that the soldiers who had guided Orba here were involved with the dragon rampage and the sniping at Prince Gil.

Orba gently leaned over, and took a sword from a fallen soldier. He concealed it behind his back for the time being, as the battle before him ended.

“Worthless,” the soldier who’d fired the gun said and turned around to face Orba. “What should we do with the prince here?”

“Let’s keep him hostage. Get over here, you!”

The soldier holding the sword held out his hand. It was the same hand that belonged to the one who, due to the element of surprise, had killed six soldiers in an instant. Not wearing a helmet, his face was beaming with haughtiness.

“W-Who… are you people?”

Trembling, Orba edged sideways with his back against the wall. The two had sneers on their faces, covered with their victims’ blood.

“Hmph, I didn’t know the prince of the Great Imperial Dynasty was this pathetic. After all, he can’t do a thing without his many retainers by his side.”

“A guy like this would become the Vileena-sama’s husband? Ridiculous. He’d sully Garbera’s prestigious blood. Now, Prince Halfwit of Mephius, come!”

Orba screamed and ran away from the man’s outstretched arm.

“I don’t have time to play. Now, if you don’t come quickly.”

As the soldier chased after him with mocking laughter, Orba promptly turned around, and cut him right up front with the sword he’d been hiding. Leaving a trail of blood and an accompanying scream, he jumped over his fallen opponent and quickly stabbed at shoulder of the flustered man holding the gun.

“B-Bastard.”

He drove the pommel of his sword into the man’s face who collapsed on his knees and fainted.

Then, from the opposite side of the cave, other guardsmen from Mephius showed up. They’d probably caught the sounds of the disturbance. Orba quickly explained to them the circumstances – and ordered them to bind up the unconscious enemy.
After that, he urged them to open up the hidden passage, but it took him quite some time and effort because the soldier in charge wasn’t there.

''I hate enemies who stay hidden and gather knowledge.''

Time was precious. Without fully knowing the reason behind his impatience, Orba privately clicked his tongue.

Several minutes after Vileena had disappeared into the hidden passage, they finally opened the door.

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
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| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter5|Chapter 5]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-01T05:54:07Z

Kiydon:

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-01T05:09:49Z

Kiydon:

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-06-01T05:05:57Z

Kiydon: Tense fix.

{{Incomplete|percentage=45}}
== Chapter 4: At Seirin Valley ==

=== Part 1 ===

As far as Simon Rodloom was concerned, Fedom, the Lord of Birac, showed no signs of a change of heart.

Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to strengthening of the Imperial household’s authority, Simon was still a leading aristocrat. He grasped the movements of the other nobles to some extent, their principles and claims, and also intended to understand their situation.

According to Simon’s insights, Fedom was clearly one of the anti-imperial faction.

He had persuaded the emperor, who actually wanted to continue the war with Garbera, and as the leader of the group promoting the peace negotiations, he had built up support for himself amongst the Imperial Court. Although, for a leader, his slight wisdom was partly insufficient, he was much better compared to the other group of corrupted nobles.

However, that Fedom was definitely acting strange. Since last night’s party – no, ever since they headed out for Seirin Valley – he had for some reason been sticking close to Prince Gil, just like a wet nurse poking her nose into people’s business here and there.

''Did he say he’d educate the prince, just to raise him into a puppet doing his will?''

That thought passed through his mind, but wasn’t it a little too late to take such actions now?

Incidentally, it was also related to the prince himself. As far as he knew, Prince Gil and Fedom should have hardly exchanged any words. When the prince hung around with his young friends, Simon had always heard him call the man ‘that manipulative wannabe swine’ behind his back.

How come he seemed to generously accept Fedom’s sudden intimacy or – even worse – seemed to rely on him?

Aside from making sure by meeting with the prince in private, there was a lot of work left for Simon. A delegation from the Principality of Ende had also rushed in for congratulations, although it was unusual that they decided to only a week ago. At first, there had also been talks of Ende and Garbera forming a bond by engaging royal partners, but it had probably been just one of the many things Ende and Garbera had in mind. Simon was pressed to welcome them.

But somewhere else,

“That ungrateful bastard, Orba!”

It was Tarkas, rudely snorting and prowling about in the room.

Even if he’d come over so abruptly, when he thought of the Mephius’ nobleman Fedom’s sudden visit, why had he bought Orba without asking for consent?

“The one who raised him was me! Shit, he was just about to earn his pay as a working swordsman, when of all things he had to be snatched away by some noble…!”

“We do not understand it either, though.”

He had summoned Shique, Gowen and Gilliam, his main swordsmen, at a private room inside the cliffs, established for Tarkas’s use. They were here because he had to change the pairings of the competition due to Orba’s sudden departure.

“So why was it decided that Orba had to suddenly be pulled out? Although that kid may be a good swordsman, he was the so-called spearhead of the games to celebrate the wedding. If he simply wanted to purchase Orba for his abilities, I think they should’ve made him participate in the fights.”

“I would also like to know – that shithead!” Tarkas said. “Even though he was bought by a noble, he could've at least offered himself up for the last battle as a favour. That son of a bitch!”

“Maybe it’s because we were supposed to kill each other. I’ll surely celebrate his new life, but I can’t get used to this feeling, and I’m bothered about him leaving without a single word.”

“Oh, Gilliam. Does even a man like you get lonely when one of his acquaintances leaves?”

“Shut it, Shique! I just regret that I haven’t settled things with that guy!”

“Well, it can’t be helped that he isn’t here. Let’s consider making some exciting pairings,” Gowen said in order to calm everyone down.

Naturally, he also felt a bit strange lately.

He had no time to figure out what had happened. He had to take a look at the condition of the newcomers Tarkas had bought, and because this was different from the usual procedure, he also had to review every single swordsman.

However, something that faintly weighed on Gowen’s mind was whether Orba, who had been looking forward to a future even when his mind and body got beaten down, was now living in that very same future.

While people were busily moving about around him, former gladiator Orba seemed to have time to spare, being practically left on his own.
Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered the words to him, like ventriloquism.

''It’s strange...''

These nobles had snatched away his brother to be a soldier. Not only had they abandoned their village but, of all things, the nobility had aimed its blades at its own citizens and had taken Alice away, causing him to fall into a life of slavery and making him wear that mask.

It might be because of a whim of fate, but none other than one of those Mephian nobles suddenly plucked Orba out of his life of slavery and ordered him to become a substitute for one of leading figures in the imperial family.

Theft, extortion and illegal gun trading – having lived off sipping water from the gutter, he couldn’t help but think he was a laughingstock for the crown prince. Although the fact that he still didn’t know what another day might bring was similar to being a slave.

However – being on the other side of those black plastered streets – perhaps now he could expect to find one spot, yes, just one spot of light. When he becomes the prince’s body double, he’ll have the opportunity to come in contact with leading figures, other than Fedom of course. It wouldn’t be so strange to find the one who burned down his village – General Oubary – among them.

Although Orba had been hit on his head back then and had only seen him for a moment with a dazed glance, for all those two years he’d been a sword-slave, he hadn’t forgotten his face for even a day. Even now it vividly came back to him in his mind.

“Gil-sama.”

''If we meet again.''

''I wonder what I should do then.''

The boy swordsman, who had his mask removed, continued sinking in ceaseless thoughts. He would think of a way to give the guy the most miserable death possible, as long as it was conceivable in this world. Besides, if he was able to meet up with Oubary, he could trace back the lines to the time he got separated from Alice and his mother. Also, although he himself did not expect too much of it – for he couldn’t wish for the unimaginable over and over again and virtually hope for a miracle – if he found other people recruited as soldiers by Oubary, they might know something about his brother Roan’s whereabouts.

“Gil-sama, Prince. Prince Gil!”

“Eh?”

Being spoken to in such a firm voice, Orba looked to his side.

Princess Vileena was sitting at a distance not too far from him. She was in front of the altar, at the place where the valley was at its deepest, looking out over the area. Only Vileena and Orba were sitting in chairs, with a stalwart group of soldiers surroundings them, while at the front of the altar, priests were chanting hymns of prayer and blessing.

“What is it you’re thinking of?”

“Nothing,” Orba replied curtly.

It wasn’t possible for Fedom to be around him during the ceremony, so he’d told him to ‘say nothing’ in the meantime. Turning his face forward, he pretended to be concentrating on the ceremony.

“That’s a lie,” Vileena decided, also in a curt manner.

''What…? A lie?''

The timing was so excellent that Orba couldn’t ignore it, and he again gave the princess of the Kingdom of Garbera a glance.

She was again wearing a dress, but a different one from yesterday’s party, and she wore an informal tiara on her head. This close, it surprised him. Although she seemed like only a little girl the first time they met face to face, when she turned aside with a serious look every once in a while, she looked really mature.

He wondered if it was because of her clear-cut features, although Orba thought her face looked much like a doll’s. At the moment, except for being from a different birth, she seemed almost the same as Orba. Only moving when told to, and only speaking when told to by someone else.

Indeed, when he thought about it, that was what this wedding was all about. Even though she was only fourteen years old, in contrast to her true wishes, she has to become the wife of a man she only first met yesterday, and was of a former enemy country to boot. Although he couldn’t get himself to feel sympathy for someone like her, who was born in a royal family, she seemed to have various hardships of her own as well.

''So, it’s the same for everyone.''

He suddenly remembered that voice.

''– Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. Everybody longs for a world they don’t know, and pursue a meaning in life for which they’ve been born – even if he’s a priest, or royalty.''

''It was just like Roan said'', Orba groaned deep inside.

“You really ''are'' lost in thought.”

When she once again spoke to him out of the blue, Orba impolitely replied with the words,

“So what?”

Vileena chuckled.

“For quite a while, I thought you had frightening eyes at times, but now you seem to smile, thinking of something pleasant. Please tell me, you who are about to become my husband – what is it that troubles you on such a fine day, and what on earth is this matter you can’t help but remember?”

The ceremony went on. They had grilled a dragon they just killed this morning, and while they scattered the bones across the base of the valley, the priests chanted their prayers. They called for the souls of the dragons that once ruled this planet to protect the country’s prosperity.

“Could it be that the Ryuujin, if they come back, may not necessarily give this place their blessings?”

Back when humankind landed on this planet, the dragons only roamed the fields and thought of nothing but filling their stomachs, in short, they had degenerated to being on the same level as beasts.

However, they excavated the ruins of enormous cities and artefacts of unknown purpose here and there on the planet, and there also seemed to be traces of a magical civilization that possibly used some form of ''ether''<ref>It's called 'ether', but the author uses the characters for 'Elementary' and 'Magic'</ref>. Humankind was able to wield their first ‘magic’, Zodias, after a while, and this blessing of wisdom was said to have all been obtained from these dragons’ ruins. It was believed that the ancient dragons formed the intelligent body that once governed this planet, probably thousands of years before humankind ultimately arrived.

The custom to call those dragons of old ‘Dragon Gods’ or ‘Ryuujin’ was particularly Mephian, and there was a time it was the religious faith in all of the country. Although it’s now a mere shadow of its former self, for important rituals like these, the priest who presided over the ceremony was selected and summoned from one of the tribes of nomads living in the area near the Mephian border, where the roots of the Ryuujin Faith lay.

“Like I said, it’s nothing.”

Again, Orba briefly ended the conversation.

He had received a brief explanation from the page, Dinn, concerning the history of the Ryuujin Faith, but naturally he didn’t feel too strongly about it. So, he wasn’t able to tell whether Vileena had been joking or not.

''If the real prince’s and this girl’s relations grows awkward after this, I won’t be taking responsibility for it, Fedom-sama.''

On the other hand, Vileena finally gave a sigh, getting lost in her own thoughts. For Garbera, the dragons having a civilization equal to or greater than that of the humans in the past was viewed upon as nothing more than a ‘dragon god’ legend. Therefore she could not experience this ceremony as something sacred. And although she had gotten carelessly and completely bored, when she glanced at the person next to her, Prince Gil – the one who would become her husband when this ceremony was finally over – she couldn’t help but be distracted. So, to slightly stave off her boredom, she tried to tease him a little. But, possibly revealing his ‘true character’, although she tried her best to look like a lady, the prince was genuinely blunt. Not only that, his brief way of talking really got on her nerves.

She wondered if it was because he was embarrassed. During last night’s party, she hadn’t caught wind of his behaviour being resentful against women either. But when she thought he might be a bit like Ryucown, Vileena felt offended by herself. There was no way the bravest general of Garbera resembled someone who was rumoured to be a complete ‘retard’ here in Mephius.

''In any case, this is the same thing as war. To fool the enemy, I have to keep up the pace in this place.''

Vileena maintained her smile, pretending not to be offended. She hoped the prince would fall madly in love with her. However, if he had some sort of love affair with a distant girl, well, she didn’t know whether or not it would be the result. Anyway, it wouldn’t be a problem if she kept smiling.

''Grandfather also told me that he loved my smiling face above all. So in that case, I shouldn’t be mistaken.''

The priests’ tedious prayers would be over soon, and then the sword-slave battles would finally take place.

It was said to be part of the ceremony that, when the dragon bones have turned to ash and are poured over the ground, the lifeblood of men is given. Nevertheless, what they did was hardly any different from your everyday gladiator battles. The only difference was that the introductory remarks were slightly more formal than usual. The arena, a levelled ground at the bottom of the valley with only some pillars staked into the earth, was even simpler than the usual.

There, the gladiators were standing in rows to the east and west sides. Orba recognized Tarkas, Gowen, and a lot of other faces he knew, and an unusually boyish smile appeared on his face.

''I doubt those guys would even imagine I’m right here.''

Although Tarkas was probably furious about him having left so suddenly, exactly because it happened so soon, it wouldn’t occur to him that he’d be looking down from such a high position.

Vileena, on the other hand, despite having been informed of this earlier, was looking on with gloomy thoughts about slaves having to kill each other hereafter. There was no slavery in Garbera, which was the main reason they spoke ill of Mephius as a country of barbarians.

''Unsatisfied with the war, have they wilfully made a show of looking down on slaves and forcing them to kill each other?''

When the divination was over, the first group of people stepped forward. The movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, but perhaps it was because of the unfamiliar environment up until the end of the first round, namely, until the loser was turned into a sprawled corpse on the ground.

In Garbera and Ende, with restrictions on slave companies active in the entertainment industry, there wasn’t an opportunity to see a gladiator fight. So, although the envoys had been prejudiced at first, and although it looked like they might have been enraged as the sound of clashing swords ran about, before long, they ended up bending over the stands, clenching their fists tight, giving cheers along with the people of Mephius, and started giving their applause.

Vileena soon got sick of it. Then, thinking of His Lordship, she again peeked to her side. When she saw a huge, grinning smile on his face, Vileena again felt a renewed disappointment appear. No matter how she looked at it, he clearly enjoyed seeing them kill each other from the bottom of his heart. She had assumed that he would like it, but not to this extent.

Suddenly, she was no longer able to restrain her feelings. The once disdainful feelings for her partner had turned into emotional disgust. It all happened so sudden, and she herself was actually quite perplexed. She was again reminded of how she, until just now, had to constantly try to subdue her emotions. Even though she was the princess of a country who had said she would give priority to her own nation before herself, she was only fourteen years old.

''I can’t, I can’t!''

Vileena strongly clutched her fists in her lap.

''This, too, is a battle. This, too, is a trail, Vileena. My body was given a push in the back and sent forward. I can’t let my spirit lose its strength like this.''

Shique stepped forward at the arena. The cheers concentrated on this unique gladiator, with a decadent white-painted face. Looking at his opponent, however… Orba raised his eyebrows.

''He’s…''

For some reason, it was one of the newcomers Tarkas had hired in his good mood. Taking Shique’s skills into consideration, it was obvious this opponent wasn’t suitably matched. Even if he was able to liven up the battle, Tarkas had struck a bad deal. This would be over in an instant.

Shique readied his trademark dual swords. Both were single-bladed swords of middle length. The newcomer nervously stood ready on the other side. This would be over within the blink of an eye – or so Orba thought at the time.

But while he thought this, he heard a loud rumbling through the ground, which practically shook violently under his feet. During that lapse in time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena.

Those soldiers who looked up at the dust, towards whatever it was, were the first to fall victim. Although they’d gathered around the arena carrying spears and guns, they also hadn’t expected such a sudden occurrence, and were crushed to death underneath a dragon’s forelegs. As soon as the clots of blood painted the ground bright red, a scaled dragon, tinged with slime here and there, emerged from the cloud of dust. The huge-shaped mass was basically stepping forward.

It was a large-type dragon, Sozos. Chains were supposed to be tie to its feet and naturally it should have also be locked up in a cage, but the dragon had become a freed creature, and even more of them appeared all at once.

“Wh-Whaahh!!”

One soldier, stunned by the death of his colleagues, fired his readied gun. The moment he removed his aim, a sharp claw about three times his height swung down on his body and he immediately splattered into a heap of flesh on the ground. Then the other soldiers who were near him, shrieked like women, dropped their guns, and started running away. Their screams and shouts began to sound much like the rumbling in the ground.

“W-What, what’s going on?”

“Why are the dragons on a rampage?”

A large number of people started bellowing at each other underneath their tents. The dragons that were to be used by the gladiators had broken through their cages and were rampaging about. There were some people who picked up swords and guns and headed for the guards, some who ran as fast as they could, and some who spread instructions to their subordinates – mixed in with a lot of other people.

Orba stood up from his chair. For a moment he couldn’t see Shique’s figure from under the cover of the dust cloud. Then one of the gladiators, the one who was the next to go, got kicked hard by a Baian. And another, someone from the Tarkas Group who tried to recklessly lunge at their bellies, got trampled under a Sozos.

Then, he spotted a single, small silhouette among those dragons. It was Hou Ran. She was probably running around in tears trying to stop the dragons. There were several times when she barely escaped being kicked around by the dragons’ legs.

''Lend me a gun.''

Orba came close to shouting those words and taking a rifle from one of the guards. However, he was interrupted halfway as he suddenly he felt a sharp pain at a certain spot on his forehead.

“Ah!”

Guided by impulse and not by reason, Orba quickly concealed his body under the table. Something was flying overhead, high in the sky, at a great speed. Someone with the intent to kill. As it took form, he had a feeling that it was aiming for the ground.

''A sniper!''

Blended in with the sound of the dragon’s feet, the raised screams of the people, and the angry voices, was most definitely the sound of a rifle’s gunshot that rattled his eardrums.

=== Part 2 ===

In the blink of an eye, the arena down below was covered in a cloud of dust. Seeing the turmoil in front of her, which was much like a battlefield, Vileena jumped out of her seat.

Able to see the the rampaging dragons and the many people falling victim to them, her eyes were reflexively trying to look for an airship. If she could cut in from the sky, she might be able to draw the dragons’ attention. There certainly had to be an old-type scouting ship among the number of crafts in the Mephian defence force.

“Hey, you, don’t come any further!”

“How rude, out of all the people that came here, just who – wahh!”

A disturbance occurred among the guards who were standing in an organized line. It wasn’t because of the dragons’ disturbance. There was a man who was running away, aiming straight for them, and although two soldiers tried to hold him back, they were cut down in no time.

''Who the—!?''

She was unable to say a word, as it became a lump of saliva caught in her throat. Getting a glimpse of the bloodied sword, she recognized him for the man that should have been fighting in the arena just now. The Garberan princess barely dodged a single blow swung down from the side. However, tripping over the hem of her long dress, she fell down.

The other guards, distracted by the rampaging dragons, were moving about all over the place. Vileena nimbly rolled over the ground and snatched a gun from the waist of a soldier who’d been cut down. Sparks jumped out before her. The steel blade had dug into the ground but, within a short interval, he swung it down again.

Vileena’s vision was fixed on the point of the sword, as if she just fallen to the brink of the dark shadow of death. Then, suddenly, a single sword came down from the side, stopping the blow.

“Your opponent is me.”

The words came from behind the man – it was the gladiator who had been fighting him a while ago. His red lips formed into a mysterious smile.

“As soon as the dragons appeared, you headed straight this way. Who are you?”

“Bastard!”

The man shouted in a hoarse voice, without releasing his grip, he rotated his body and pulled out a dagger from his waist. With a movement quick enough to stir up a wind, he aimed for the gladiator’s chest. However, that gladiator – Shique – tilted his shoulders. He swept aside the dagger with his other sword, and thrust his first sword into the man’s chest.

When the man collapsed in front of her with a surprised look in his eyes, Vileena heaved a sigh.

''An assassin…''

It felt like cold hands had taken a hold on her heart. And then, suddenly realizing the situation, she looked over at Prince Gil’s side. He was jumbled together with several other people, hiding under a table. Only his face peeped out, quietly observing the state of his surroundings. Although his safety was most definitely important, it couldn’t be helped that her sense of disappointment in him only grew. When his fiancée had been attacked just now, this man had been quivering all by himself.

Then Vileena accidentally got startled, because Gil looked her way. There was not a hint of fear in his eyes, rather…

“Princess, get over here and lie down,” Gil – although, it was of course actually Orba – suddenly said.

He half-forcingly pulled at a bewildered Vileena’s arm and, after he made her lie down on her stomach like him, called out Shique’s name.
The gladiator froze over with genuine surprise. Seeing him so flabbergasted, Orba was driven by the urge to make joke, despite the current situation.

“I’m a fan of yours,” he said. He then immediately gave a serious look. “The dragons are only a diversion. There must be a sniper aiming for us here. Find out where he is.”

“Ha, hahah...”

Suddenly being spoken to in person by the prince of his country, although he was basically given an order, even baffled Shique. Orba, however, continued without concern anyway.

“Also inform Gowen to let anyone who can stand in arms cooperate.”

Shique started running, quick to come into action, although he turned his head every now and then. He started running past the dragons that were going mad with blood, and devouring several people. While making sure to guard his back, Orba peeked out from under the table. And immediately drew back in again. He repeated the movement several times, until a gunshot also reached Vileena’s ears for the first time.

''A lure?''

She realized that thought with a flash. He’d purposely exposed his body like that to invite the enemy’s gunfire, so that the gladiator named Shique could learn the enemy’s position. This prince – just what was his true face?

A Sozos climbed up through the mayhem in the valley and was approaching their location.

“Your Highness, Princess! This way!”

Two men rushed in among the guards. Finally someone who acted in the right state of mind had come for them. Orba also decided it was a good time to leave. He stood up and led Vileena by the hand. She didn’t go against him and followed suit.

Orba was running. Maybe he had expected something like this to happen, because he had to act as a double. But right now, he didn’t have the time to think of that. Although he was worried about the safety of the gladiators, Orba decided that, considering that the gunshots had ceased, they were probably all right.

Orba and Vileena, holding each other’s hands, looked over their shoulders several times, as they rushed into a cave underneath the cliffs, led by the soldiers.

“Get into this hidden passage for now. It leads to the other side of the cliffs.”

When the soldier struck one of the pillars in the cave with his fist, the side of the steep cliff wall rotated, opening a space where only one person could pass.

“Go, hurry,” they urged the princess on.

The moment Vileena’s body was pushed inside, the wall somehow rotated again behind her.

“Huh?”

She raised her voice and turned her back when there was only darkness in front of her. There wasn’t a single lamp inside the cave, and although she looked for a switch, she couldn’t find it in the hidden passage. Furthermore, she heard voices on the other side of the wall from some kind of argument.

Surely the enemy hadn’t planned an ambush? – she soon thought.

“Princess Vileena!”

A voice called out to her from behind. Again they were two soldiers in armour, and came from the other side of the passage carrying lamps. However, they weren’t dressed in Mephian gear.

“Princess, make haste over here. A ship is coming to pick you up.”

“Ship? What do you mean by ship?”

“It’s a ship that has come to take you away from these savage lands, to a place more suitable for someone of your noble lineage.”

“You guys…”

While the Vileena was struck with a certain foreboding feeling, something like a gunshot roared from the other side of the thick wall.

It was in the instant Vileena entered the hidden passage.

“Hey, what’s going on!?”

Several soldiers who seemed to be guarding the inside of the cliffs came their way. Then one of the soldiers who had guided Orba quickly struck the pillar again, leaving Vileena alone in the passage she’d entered.

“''We'' don’t know either. But it’s going well.”


As he spoke, he pulled and fired a gun from his back.

Almost at the same time as the guard up front collapsed with a spray of blood, the other soldier was about to lunge into their flanks with a drawn sword. Without having the time to accept the sudden challenge, one soldier, and yet another one, got cut down.

Orba was standing with his back against the wall, watching over this sudden bewildering development. This didn’t look like some internal discord. With the thought that Vileena was in the hidden passage all alone, it was likely that the soldiers who had guided Orba here were involved with the dragon rampage and the sniping at Prince Gil.

Orba gently leaned over, and took a sword from a fallen soldier. He concealed it behind his back for the time being, as the battle before him ended.

“Worthless,” the soldier who’d fired the gun said and turned around to face Orba. “What should we do with the prince here?”

“Let’s keep him hostage. Get over here, you!”

The soldier holding the sword held out his hand. It was the same hand that belonged to the one who, due to the element of surprise, had killed six soldiers in an instant. Not wearing a helmet, his face was beaming with haughtiness.

“W-Who… are you people?”

Trembling, Orba edged sideways with his back against the wall. The two had sneers on their faces, covered with their victims’ blood.

“Hmph, I didn’t know the prince of the Great Imperial Dynasty was this pathetic. After all, he can’t do a thing without his many retainers by his side.”

“A guy like this would become the Vileena-sama’s husband? Ridiculous. He’d sully Garbera’s prestigious blood. Now, Prince Halfwit of Mephius, come!”

Orba screamed and ran away from the man’s outstretched arm.

“I don’t have time to play. Now, if you don’t come quickly.”

As the soldier chased after him with mocking laughter, Orba promptly turned around, and cut him right up front with the sword he’d been hiding. Leaving a trail of blood and an accompanying scream, he jumped over his fallen opponent and quickly stabbed at shoulder of the flustered man holding the gun.

“B-Bastard.”

He drove the pommel of his sword into the man’s face who collapsed on his knees and fainted.

Then, from the opposite side of the cave, other guardsmen from Mephius showed up. They’d probably caught the sounds of the disturbance. Orba quickly explained to them the circumstances – and ordered them to bind up the unconscious enemy.
After that, he urged them to open up the hidden passage, but it took him quite some time and effort because the soldier in charge wasn’t there.

''I hate enemies who stay hidden and gather knowledge.''

Time was precious. Without fully knowing the reason behind his impatience, Orba privately clicked his tongue.

Several minutes after Vileena had disappeared into the hidden passage, they finally opened the door.

===References and Translation Notes===
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| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter5|Chapter 5]]
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</noinclude>

Rakuin no Monshou

2013-06-01T02:09:37Z

Kiydon: /* Volume 1: The Dragon Roars at the Star of Twilight */

[[File:Rakuin no Monshou v01 cover.jpg|thumb|300px|The cover art of volume 1]]
Rakuin no Monshou (烙印の紋章), "Emblem of the Branded", is a light novel series written by Tomonori Sugihara (杉原智則) and illustrated by 3. The series is published by ASCII Media Works under the Dengeki Bunko label and is completed with 12 volumes.

==Story Synopsis==
The countries of Mephius and Garbera have been waging a war for ten years and are trying to put an end to this long fight through a political marriage between the two royal families. Orba, who was driven from his home because of the war and was forced to become a gladiator, looks exactly like the crown prince of Mephius, and it has been decided he will be substituting him during the wedding ceremony. On the other hand, Vileena, the princess of Garbera, has secretly decided to ensnare the crown prince for her own country’s interests.

=== Other Information Sources ===

Warning: This may contain spoilers.
[http://www.baka-tsuki.org/blog/?p=373 BT Blog]

==Translation==

=== [[Rakuin no Monshou:Registration Page|Registration]] ===
Translators are asked to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Registration Page|register]] for chapters they want to work on.

===Format Standards===
'''Every Chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]
*[[Rakuin no Monshou:Guidelines|Project-Specific Guidelines: Format, Names, and Terminology]]

=== Feedback ===
If you enjoyed the translation, why don't you tell us in the [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=5101&p=173234#p173234 Feedback Thread]

== Updates ==
* Jan 24, 2013 - Initiated as Teaser Project
* Jan 24, 2013 - Volume 1 Prologue completed
* Feb 12, 2013 - Volume 1 Chapter 1 completed
* Mar 14, 2013 - Volume 1 Chapter 2 completed
* Apr 24, 2013 - Volume 1 Chapter 3 completed

==Rakuin no Monshou==

===Volume 1: The Dragon Roars at the Star of Twilight===
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Prologue|Prologue]]
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter1|Chapter 1: Iron and Blood]]
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter2|Chapter 2: Two Boys]]
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter3|Chapter 3: A New Mask]]
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter4|Chapter 4: At Seirin Valley]] (45%)
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter5|Chapter 5:]] (0%)
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter6|Chapter 6:]] (0%)
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter7|Chapter 7:]] (0%)
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Epilogue|Epilogue]] (0%)
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Afterword|Afterword]] (0%)

===Volume 2===
===Volume 3===
===Volume 4===
===Volume 5===
===Volume 6===
===Volume 7===
===Volume 8===
===Volume 9===
===Volume 10===
===Volume 11-1===
===Volume 11-2===

==Project Staff==
* Project Administrator:
* Project Supervisor:

==== Translators ====
:*[[User:Dohma|Dohma]]

==== Editors ====
:*[[user:Tasear|Tasear]]
:*[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

==Series Overview==
烙印の紋章たそがれの星に竜は吠える (10-05-2008, ISBN 978-4-04-867063-0) 
烙印の紋章II 陰謀の都を竜は駆ける (10-11-2008,ISBN 978-4-04-867347-1) 
烙印の紋章III 竜の翼に天は翳ろう (10-04-2009,ISBN 978-40-4-867767-7) 
烙印の紋章IV 竜よ、復讐の爪牙を振るえ (10-08-2009,ISBN 978-40-4-867942-8) 
烙印の紋章V そして竜は荒野に降り立つ (10-03-2010,ISBN 978-40-4-868398-2) 
烙印の紋章VI いにしえの宮に竜はめざめる (10-07-2010,ISBN 978-40-4-868653-2) 
烙印の紋章 VII　愚者たちの挽歌よ、竜に届け (10-12-2010,ISBN 978-4-04-870135-8) 
烙印の紋章 VIII　竜は獅子を喰らいて転生す (10-04-2011,ISBN 978-4-04-870424-3) 
烙印の紋章 IX 征野に竜の慟哭吹きすさぶ (10-09-2011,ISBN 978-4-04-870808-1) 
烙印の紋章 X 竜の雌伏を風は嘆いて (07-01-2012,ISBN 978-4-04-886248-6) 
烙印の紋章 XI あかつきの空を竜は翔ける（上） (08-06-2012,ISBN 978-4-04-886248-6) 
烙印の紋章 XI あかつきの空を竜は翔ける（下） (10-10-2012,ISBN 978-4-04-886983-6) 

[[Category:Dengeki Bunko]]

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter1

2013-05-26T03:12:00Z

Kiydon: Verb tense agreements.

==Chapter 1: Iron and Blood==

=== Part 1 ===

The outcome was decided.

The amphitheatre of Ba Roux shook. The many spectators that were crowded together unanimously shouted out the victor’s name and stamped their feet, creating a racket that sounded much like a tidal wave.

While the winner was being bathed in the passionate and boisterous cheers, the one who had received the opposite fate lay motionless besides his feet. Eventually, the loser’s headless body was struck with a hook and dragged away by the hands of two slaves.

The sun was still glaring even though it was near evening. The spectators’ faces were covered with sweat and glittering brightly, as if someone smeared them with oil, and their eyes, too, were sparkling with bloodlust, as they anticipated the next fight to be yet another battle to the death. Whoever just won or lost didn’t stay on their minds for long. It was only the heat of battle that left an everlasting taste, stood in the air, and kept whirling around the arena.

“Go, go!”

“Do it, kill!”

Today was another success.Because the more virtuous people living in the city, for whom the admission fees were no more than about a child’s weekly allowance, were able to watch the games, over a thousand spectators were gathered.

The next match was a cavalry battle. Both men were armed with spears, emerging from the east and west gates, and crossed each other at a great speed. At the second charge, one of the men got flung off of his mount and, as he scrambled to get up again, the other swiftly jumped off his own horse to give the finishing blow.

Up next were two barely clothed men, who started to grapple each other with their bare hands.

They were sword-slaves, or so-called gladiators. In compensation for doing these public, life-threatening battles, these people were granted a few days of their lives and the minimum amount of food required to get by. Some of them were already born as slaves, some had been thrown into the arena for committing crimes, and there were even those who had personally applied to cast themselves into this living hell.

But if gladiators got well-known enough to become veterans, they received a different kind of popularity from the crowd. One of them, named Shique, was a handsome gladiator who was popular among women and had just won the brawling match. He was strangely pretentious, bowing in a way much like a nobleman would, and notably, shrill voices rose from the crowd.

“Did you see that, brother? Shique just won!”
<ref> She actually calls him お義兄様 ‘ogikei-sama’, which, in this case, means he’s her step-brother. However, she pronounces it as ‘onii-sama’.</ref>

It was the voice of a girl yet in the more tender years of age, who was sitting in one of the grandstands among the front row seats. High pillars, which rose from the corners in the left and right, supported a roof that covered the stand. Only those who were able to pay a large sum of money were able to view the match from these special seats.

From the looks of it, the young man resting his chin on his hands next to her, whom she called ‘brother’, seemed to be dissatisfied. With a long cloth wrapped around his head, the ends dangling from both the left and right just like a believer of Badyne, it looked like he was concealing his face from the glances of people around him.

“Ahh, it is as you say,” he said. “The gladiator you had your eye on won. Now, isn’t that enough? Can we hurry and get something to eat? This place is giving me a headache.”

"But it is only beginning, is it not? Did the smell of blood sicken you? You, the successor of the lands of Mephius?"

“Watch your mouth.”

Not at all worried about the youth’s clear jumpiness, the girl gave a fickle laugh.

The next fight had already started, so the young man was forced to stay after all and rested his cheeks on his hands again with a bitter look on his face. How much blood had to be splattered around, and how many sweaty muscles did she have to see before getting tired of it?

He occasionally stole a sidelong glance at the young girl’s white skin and beautiful face. She had an innocence that matched her age, but a strange sensual and mature beauty as well – it was a view much more charming than that of the savage fight below.

Then, after about two battles, a new stage was being set in the arena. One huge stake got established in the centre, and a single woman was fastened to the top. She was a beautiful woman. Purposely made to wear torn clothes, each time she writhed in pain, her breasts and thighs swayed about while whistles came from the heated male audience.

However, the woman was in no position to be bothered with their obscene looks, for at the same time the stake got put up, a big cage with approximately the same height was carried in.

Inside was a raging beast that was roughly seven or eight metres long. Its slimy, green scales were flickering in the sunlight. It was a large dragon. Bred through repeated selective breeding by humans, it was of a variety called ‘Sozos’ that Mephius also used in wars.

Its clenched, humongous teeth, and each of its claws extending from six legs, were just like sharp swords. Probably because it was drugged, it seemed to have a somewhat repressed ferociousness and dulled instincts, but being hit by that bulk would nevertheless cause serious injuries, and it looked like it could blow away the steel cage like a toy.

“Now then! Gathered ladies and gentlemen!”

Suddenly an orator standing on an elevation began to speak over a loudspeaker, eager to finish his speech before the beast broke out.

“Next, is the start of our programme. Once, the great dragons that established our culture roamed on the earth’s surface, but they were just the same as the bloodthirsty beast we look down upon now. There is no need to fear. We are the brave souls, the purest of minds, that took over from an era of space voyage. Not even by the dragon’s tusks and claws – not to mention its fearsome, terrible breath! – will we be outdone. Please, take a look at the evidence. Behold the figures of these brave men who challenge this dragon of old, this beast of a terrifying false god!”

From the eastern gate, a single gladiator stepped forward. In the man’s hands, who sported a muscular body, was an iron ball connected to a chain.

“Ballchain Verne!”

The audience’s cheers became even louder, for he was a gladiator could pride himself in being one of the most famous fighters in Ba Roux. The man was about in his mid-thirties with dark skin, and he responded by waving a hand to the ladies and gentlemen in the audience. Then,

“It’s the Tiger!”

“Look, Iron Tiger Orba!”

A swordsman, also alone, walked out, but from the western gate.

"How eccentric," the young man commented on the steel blue mask that was covering gladiator’s face. As if imitating a tiger, small fangs protruded up from the lips, leaving only a small space for the mouth of this man named Orba underneath. Cut out into two splits were openings where the tiger’s eyes would’ve been, but naturally it was only Orba’s eyes peeking through. And, despite a tiger normally having rounded ears, the mask had pointed ends at both sides instead – it was almost as if horns were coming out from the corners.

However, that was all; he had no other outstanding character features. In comparison with Verne, he had an almost feeble body build, and he only held a simple, common longsword in his hand.

The spectators started ridiculing him, saying,

“Look at his thin body. Just one hit of the ballchain will completely smash him up!”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 022.jpg|thumb]]

“They say he took off Meier the Baron’s head at the Arena of Tidan after only two strikes. Let’s see him do the same to our Verne. Go on then!”

“This Iron Tiger Orba,” the girl said, as her cheeks blushed with excitement. “Isn’t this his first appearance in Ba Roux? But he seems to be famous. Do you know of him, brother?”

“How should I know?”

“My, what a cold reply. Fine, if you’re so bored with being here, why don’t we have a little bet on this game? Maybe it’ll end up getting you a little interested.”

“A wager, is it? For what, and how?”

“Simple. Of those two about to fight, who do you expect to win?”

“That’s stupid. How’s that even a bet? Even I know the name of that Verne guy. And his physique is way better. Even an amateur can see that. You're just trying to rip me off, betting on the clear victor yourself, aren't you?”

“My, you’re a difficult customer! But that’s fine. You can just sulk away like that as long as you like. And I even thought of bringing you along so you could have a little distraction. But I got it, I understand – you hate spending time with Ineli. If that’s the case, I will never invite you again, don’t worry!”

The girl stiffly turned away her face, as the young man panickingly stopped resting his chin on his hands.

“W-Wait. I was wrong,” he said. “I’ll bet on that masked swordsman. That’s what you want, right?”

“No. Ineli decided to bet on that swordsman first. You can take Ballchain Verne, brother.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because I like him.”

''Even though you can't see his face?'' – was what the young man was about to say, but he stopped himself in time. He couldn’t afford to displease her even more.

“Now then,” the orator said, raising his voice again. “Will Orba or will Verne take up the role of the hero and set that woman free? Or will these rivals be fighting in vain, as the cage breaks and this poor, beautiful lady ends up in the dragon’s stomach?”

From there on, the two swordsmen would battle, and the winner would rescue the woman – or, as the orator stated, ‘a certain third daughter from a ruined country’ – from the dragon’s clutches, and also earn a night of love-making. Or so the scene was set out to be.

The two men both stepped forward at the same time. As they approached each other, the lack in Orba’s physique became all the more apparent. Verne spoke in a voice that could be heard by those in the front row seats.

“So, you call yourself a tiger, huh? I’ve heard your name. But, there’s nothing more unreliable than a rumour. You can try to hide your face, but I can see the skin underneath. You’re still young, just a kid.”

Ballchain Verne’s thick lips, in proportion to the rest of him, bended into a smile.

“I’m sure the mask is just a bluff so people won’t make fun of you. You’re not a tiger, you’re just a mangy cur! I’ll teach you what a real man’s battle truly is all about!”

Facing Verne, who was loudly laughing at his shoulders, Orba didn’t reply. Probably assuming his nerves were blown away, Verne gave a sneering look, took up a defensive stance, and slung the ballchain over his shoulder.


“Start!”

There was a pointed signalling voice, but it halfway disappeared into the further increasing sound of the audience’s cheers. In an instant, Verne made his move.

He wielded the iron ballchain with all his strength. At first, the masked swordsman was about to rush in, but, as if panicked by his sheer force, he quickly stepped back. There was a small spark as the iron ball chafed against the mask. It was enough for Verne to take pursuit of the stumbling Orba. The huge iron ball, which was much larger than a human head, approached with the howling of the wind, and Orba continued to avoid it by stepping back.

He rolled over the ground, excessively jumped aside, and finally bustled about by making an evasive gesture – which invited laughter from the spectators.

“Look at that, it seems the swordsman you like can’t get out of a tight spot,” the same young man said. “Or could it be that this fight isn't so fair and square?”

“You think?” the girl said, looking straight ahead as she put a finger to her plump and florid lips. “If that’s so, then why hasn’t the match ended yet?”

“That’s because his opponent keeps pitifully running from place to place.”

“I wonder why Verne can’t corner an opponent who so clumsily keeps running away.”

The young man wanted to say something in return but kept his mouth shut. As he watched, he noticed that Orba wasn’t outright retreating, but kept circling around his opponent while maintaining a fixed distance. And it looked like Verne was no longer able to attack and pursue his opponent so hastily either.

Probably because he lost his temper, Verne put all of his strength into tossing another blow. The iron ball flew past Orba’s shoulder and – although it seemed obvious to the bystanders that this was like a golden opportunity – he only returned a slight thrust with his sword, while once again taking his distance.

“Get serious!”

“Stop messing around!”

The audience stopped laughing and started jeering down at the arena. Not only at Orba, but also at Verne who didn’t seem able to take down his constantly fleeing opponent.

“You bastard!” Verne howled.

When he tried to rush at Orba diagonally, the girl suddenly raised her voice, “Ah!”, in surprise.

Orba, who had until now only retreated backwards, suddenly started to pitch forward. Stopping in his tracks, Verne, too, took the opportunity to strike another blow.

Orba tilted his body wide to the right, avoiding the iron ball and, as he rotated on his left toe, flashed his sword in a diagonal uppercut. The moment the chain got cut apart, a strange, clear sound echoed throughout the arena, then Orba twisted his body again and swung his sword downward with the force of a thunderbolt.

Verne’s cranium was split in two and the giant collapsed soon after.

“M-Magnificent!” the orator cried.

However, because it had happened so swiftly and came with such an unexpected conclusion, the audience was looking rather flabbergasted. Although the awkward silence wrapped around the arena, the victor didn’t seem to care either way and headed up to the stake, and, borrowing the hands of a number of slaves to lift it from the ground, used his sword to cut the ropes that kept the woman bound.

With a shout of delight, she joyfully clung onto his neck, only to be pushed away with a confused look on her face as Orba immediately started to return to his gate.

The girl in the special seat – she had also been staring agape at the sudden fall of the curtain – slowly began to form her lips into a smile. That gladiator named Orba didn’t seem aware of the audience at all. As if stating the only reason he was here today was to fight, and to kill as he was told.

“He… took out Verne.”

“With one blow.”

After that moment of silence, voices praising Orba began to raise little by little. Now that the mood had grown uneasy for the visitors, slowly the clapping of hands, the awkward stamping of feet, and cheers appropriate for a victor started to fill the stands. Then, almost at the instant the arena had returned to the state it was supposed to be in, the air shook heavily.

It was the roar of the Sozos Dragon.

It might have been the drug wearing off, or an instinctive reaction to the smell of blood, but all of a sudden it started swaying its enormous body from right to left, shattering a portion of its cage. One of the slaves who’d been in the process of towing everything away, was caught and raised from the head by the dragon’s claw. Before he could resist, his torso disappeared into the Sozos’s mouth.

There was the sound of breaking bones. And at the same time as the awful sound of salivated chewing could be heard, the arena grounds were suddenly filled with screams. In the midst of all the fear and panic that rapidly swept over the area, the Sozos rather calmly stretched out its limbs further and emerged from the broken cage.

Being pulled along into the crowd that strived to be the first to escape, the young man from earlier almost fell to the floor. But then, he was pulled along by a hand from the side.

“This way. Hurry!”

It was one of the soldiers who’d been guarding the special seats. As he rattled around with a sword and gun, he tried to bring the young man back inside.

“W-Wait. Ineli’s…”

Although he tried to resist, he couldn’t move freely as he kept being jostled by the crowd of people trying to escape. Then, he heard a suspiciously familiar, high-pitched scream. Right in front of the Sozos’s forepaws beyond the dividing wall, was a figure that belonged to no one other than Ineli. The girl had turned a pale colour as she had tumbled over from the gallery, and it looked like she was about to lose consciousness any minute.

The dragon’s long snout opened from top to bottom. As the rows of tusks, similar to sharp pointed swords, opened up, they formed long threads of slaver. The young man was about to involuntarily avert his eyes, when a thin streak of blood spouted from the Sozos’s neck. The gladiator arena’s employed guards had rushed in with guns. However, because they were close to the seats, they could only shoot at point-blank range, and from the way they stood, they hardly had the nerve. While they were conflicted at what to do while it approached, the Sozos turned around quickly and hit them with a single blow of its tail, fully sending several people flying.

The girl had sank down to the floor, her eyes opened wide looking at her surroundings.

Then, from those eyes, she saw.

There was a shadow that ran past the Sozos’s flank like a gust of wind. Just before it came up against the brick wall that divided the seats from the ring, the shadow kicked against it and soared up into the air. A man with a tiger-imitating iron mask jumped into the girl’s sight, the figure of Orba the gladiator landing on top of the Sozos’s head.

Even though she had just witnessed him running up to the Sozos from behind while the dragon was distracted by bullets, she couldn’t suddenly believe it.

Despite Orba’s slim body, his joints and muscles seemed to fortify his arms like steel as he grabbed a firm hold of the dragon’s neck. While further sandwiching its neck between his legs, he held on tight with one arm and, with his other, brought his sword down into the head.

It swung its long tail around, rocked the ground by stamping its feet, but the dragon still struggled, not able to shake off the gladiator, as it shook off a second and a third attack tearing through scales that were equal to an iron armour, and flesh and blood got splattered around. However, although the sword broke when it came to the fourth attack, at that time the other gladiators rushed in.

“Orba!”

Receiving a thrown sword from a brown-skinned swordsman, Orba once again raised it for a fifth attack, following the exact same process as earlier, until he fully caved the middle of the blade into the crown of the dragon’s head.

Its golden eyes goggled longingly at the skies. Just before its huge body sunk from the neck, the swordsman had swooped down next to the guest seats.

The girl, still kneeling on the floor, was looking up at him. It was almost as if he came from a tale, for she felt like a princess caught by an evil wizard, and although she fixed her eyes on him with a throbbing heart, of all things, the would-be-hero gladiator continued his walk, completely ignoring her, and nimbly jumped off the dividing wall and back into the ring.

There was still a cloud of chaotic fear hanging over the arena as he showed her his back and took his leave, but rather than drifting the air of a victor, he looked more like a solitary figure that could hardly endure the stares on him.

“A-Are you okay?”

She turned her eyes to the young man she had brought with her, who came running up to her with bated breath, and suddenly got an odd sensation. She had only seen it with a passing glance earlier, but the eyes underneath that swordsman’s mask seemed to closely resemble those of the young man.

And there was yet another man who focused a long look at Orba’s back, surprised for another reason.

“No way, he is alive.”

He wiped the sweat from his slightly slacking chin with the back of his hand. Standing behind the young man’s back - he was also one of the men who’d been at the special seats - he was speaking to himself in wonder as the unique smell of blood drifted about.

“Orba was his name? Two years... Two entire years, huh.”

=== Part 2 ===

“Two years.”

The gladiator, Orba, staring down the lurking darkness, suddenly murmured those words in his mouth.
Although only ‘two years’, in this line of work, it had been full of hardships, blood, and corpses. How many times had he struggled for his life, only to have both his feet chained at the end, spend the night in the slave pens, where his only pastime was to train all morning in order to keep living as a sword-slave? And then there’s another fight.

No one, except Orba, expected him to be able to live through more than five battles. Two years ago, when Orba first set foot in the arena, he’d still been fourteen years old. His body had been even thinner than it was now, and he’d hardly been able to handle the weapons.

However, at the moment of truth, he’d survived. He brandished the weapon held in his hands, chosen from one of the few weapons he was able to wield, to the limits of his power. He only knew how to fight by recklessly charging in. As he gained experience, his skill, the thickness of each of his muscle fibres, the mastery of new weapons, as well as the opponent’s corpses he stepped over, increased every time he emerged from another fight.

And so, two years passed. Orba didn’t know whether that was a long or a short time. Sometimes, he thought he was a considerably old person, but he also felt like a youngster at times who still didn’t know anything at all about battles.

Anyway, maybe it simply had to do with the fact, that he had not been blessed with the opportunity to see his own face. Lying face up, he was still wearing the same iron mask he wore in the battle ring. Because it had never been removed those two years, the other sword-slaves belonging to the same Tarkas Gladiatorial Group had no way of knowing his true face.

“Get up, slaves! You hate wakin’ up? Then get ready for your worst day yet!”

When morning came, another day for the slaves began. The one in charge of training the sword-slaves, and the slaves’ main supervisor, was Gowen, who drove everyone from their bedrooms and made them start cleaning the accommodations.

When that was finished, taking care of the lions, serpents, boars, tigers and the like – the animals that were used in the arena – was waiting. In particular, taking care of the dragons was hard work. Even taking care of the small- and medium-sized dragons was too much for a single person to handle, but taking care of the large-sized Sozos dragons was far worse. While it was expected for slaves to die by the sword, many had also been crushed underfoot by these dragons that were purposefully trained not to grow accustomed to humans.

Orba set foot in the vast dragon’s abode, which was much larger than the slaves’ dwellings – far from it – and resembled a castle courtyard, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed the back of a woman.

She was Hou Ran. One of the other slaves ordered to feed the dragons, she was directly touching the dragons’ scales. Of course, the dragons’ legs and necks were wrapped in chains, as it was not necessary to carry out yesterday’s example, but that was by no means an absolute guarantee. At a distance that would even cause a gladiator to hesitate, greeting each dragon one by one, she gently touched their scales with her fingers.

“Orba.”

Calling out his name, she quickly turned around.

“So I’ve been found out.”

“I’ve been told by the ‘voice’ of the dragons.”

Ran smiled. She seemed truly unsuitable in an all-men, not to mention savage, sword-slave detention camp, and Orba still hadn’t gotten used to her defenceless smile.

Her skin like polished ebony, combined with hair that seemed to have turned pale, gave off a mysterious charm. Originating from the Dragon God worshipping nomads that roamed in the western mountains of Mephius, despite her primarily reclusive kin, Ran had exceptionally been brimming with curiosity, secretly boarded one of her tribe’s caravan wagons and came over to the outside world. Because she never told him exactly what had happened after that, he did not know when Tarkas hired her, and how she could take care of the dragons single-handedly like this.

“Do these guys know my name?”

“Their ‘voices’ come like images into my head. They all know your face, Orba. You’re liked by the dragons.”

While it appeared idiotic, in fact, it seemed like her pupils, clearly giving the impression of being deep under the sea, held some kind of intelligence lost to civilized men. From the other side of the fence, the small-type dragons were poking out their snouts and snapping at him.

“It doesn’t look that way,” Orba said with a thin smile.

At the time Orba turned up two years ago, Hou Ran was already at the detention camp. Back then, although she didn’t make direct eye contact with the others employed by Tarkas, she didn’t even open her mouth to him.

Whether there were difficulties with Ran seeing his true face through her eyes, or listening with her voice, soon became the target of bets among the sword slaves short of entertainment.*

But, one time, Ran was about to be roughed up by a new sword-slave who’d recently come into the camp. Orba just happened to pass by and had beaten him up, and ever since then Ran had at least been able to speak to him a bit.

“I heard you were attacked by a Sozos at Ba Roux.”

“''I'' was the one who attacked the Sozos,” he emphasized. “It suddenly started getting violent.”

“Even with drugs, it’s useless to imprison its heart by force. If I had been the one supervising it, such a thing would have never happened.”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 035.jpg|thumb]]

She bit her lips, but it was not because she was concerned about Orba or the visitors. With the figure of a girl patting the nape of a medium-sized Baian dragon in the corner of his eye, Orba finished his own work and left the dragon’s abode behind him.

After feeding the animals and cleaning was done, it was time to tend to their weapons. Because they left their own lives in their care, they carefully did them one by one. Whenever they handled weapons, about ten guards in full armour acted as supervisors. Naturally, they were there to make sure none of the sword-slaves tried to revolt.

Then, after being excused for a meal of bread and soup – the survivors of yesterday’s gladiator matches were treated meat and fruit as a reward – they each began their training at the start of noon. Just like when they’d been tending the weapons, there were armed soldiers on the lookout, but this time, the chains that connected both feet were taken off.

Sword-slaves that lasted over two years like Orba were extremely rare. Lives were lost one after another, and new faces always appeared again on the next day. Gowen tirelessly taught them the step work of how to hold a sword or how to handle a gun, and trained them thoroughly until they were fully prepared.

Orba also had some of the newcomers as opponents. Sometimes they clashed swords, just like in an actual fight, and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to part with a limb or lose his life in the midst of training..

Today, there weren’t any casualties. But that did not have to mean they were lucky. The next day may hold an even more miserable fate, and grislier deaths may be awaiting for these gladiators.

When all the faces of the sword-slaves had turned dark, their skin wet with sweat and covered in dust, , Orba moved to the fence separating the training grounds from an aisle on the other side, and caught sight of Tarkas’s figure.

Saying “At ease!” at the newcomer, Orba rushed up towards him.

Also noticing the masked man, Tarkas stopped in his tracks. There was a feeling of distrust slipping through his sagged cheeks.

“What is it, Iron Tiger? Ahh… good job yesterday.” He had a look on his face as if he just now remembered he forgot to feed his pet dog. “Verne was quickly becoming a well-known gladiator. The other gladiator troupe started talking about wanting to pit him against you. ‘Can’t we earn back all the money we invested in Verne that way?’ – don’t try that sarcastic bullshit on me. Well, I suppose I feel a bit grateful as well. And killing that Sozos—”

“Tarkas, how much longer do I have to continue winning?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s been two years already. I’ve kept winning all the time. How many times do I have to be the ‘main event’ like yesterday. Isn’t it about time you take these chains off of my feet?”

Sword-slaves, all of them, were each exchanged on a contract when bought by a merchant. Although Tarkas it seemed to handle it quite vaguely.

“Don’t think I can’t read. Even a slave should have the right to look into my contract. I’ve been waiting here, Tarkas. I should’ve been allowed to leave a long time ago.”

As Orba spoke right in front of him, Tarkas sharply put a squinting look in his eyes.

“So, where do you plan to go? Surely you can be released from my hands, but you’ll still be a criminal. You don’t have the money to pay off your remaining prison term. Or maybe you want to work in the Shaga Mines along the western border? Poisonous gases, wild man-eating beasts, human-hunting Geblin tribes, and – of course – extremely miserable and rigorous labour. If it’s the same hell, or if you think you may have it better off here, hurry up and get back to your training. And don’t ever speak to me like an equal, until you’ve become a full-fledged swordsman that earns his pay.”

Thrusting his thick finger in Orba’s face, Tarkas quickly took his leave, heading for his office. Behind him, unfamiliar faces followed suit. Considering this was a place where legs were tied up in chains, they were probably newly procured slaves.

Orba was silent. His eyes were teeming with rage however, but Tarkas’s words weren’t lies either. Concerning Mephian law, you can basically either sell your life or go to prison.* Like the Mines of Shaga that Tarkas spoke of – should he apply for the country’s public service, accompanied by dangers, and sell himself off as a slave there?

Grasping the fence tightly in his hands, he lost all sense of feeling in his fingers before he knew it, Orba remained there standing in place.

“What are you doing, Orba!? Get back here!”

After finally being rebuked by Gowen, he went back to practice. As always.

A few hours after that, after washing their bodies with a cupful of water, it was time for their second meal of the day. Orba, rounding up his body like a hunchback in the corner of the dining hall, was almost grasping at his food. Like a habit, he couldn’t go through a meal without reading a book.

Then,

“Orba, good job yesterday.”

Another sword-slave, the one named Shique, nestled into his back, and Orba wildly shook him off with his hand.

“That ballchain Verne chap. When the match was decided, I didn’t know what to do. If you seemed to get into a huge disadvantage, I considered shooting him down from the outside.”

“Go away. Unless you want me to wound that smug face of yours.”

“Ooh, scary. But I wouldn’t mind any wound you give me, for it’ll become a bond between me and you.”

Even though it was hard, despite Shique’s chuckling behaviour, to make an accurate judgement on whether he was serious or making a joke, Orba didn’t socialize with him either way. The handsomely Shique had grown out his hair and even used make-up when it came to a gladiatorial battle. And just like that, because it seemed to further his degenerate good looks, he was tremendously popular among the female crowd. Even though the person himself was a self-styled, huge misogynist.

“However, I expected no less from you, Orba. Even without me lending you a hand, you managed to make a truly magnificent performance. Are you, both in name and reality, Tarkas’s top gladiator, I wonder?”

“I wouldn’t say it was magnificent.”

Gowen, the one in charge of training the gladiators, made his appearance. Although Orba showed plain the annoyance in his eyes as he sat down at the same table, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Although you did well, it’s a fact that it was also dangerous. When you broke in, your timing was still too hasty. It’s a bad habit of yours to take risks when you’re driven into a corner, only if even by a bit. You should spend more time putting an effort into ensuring your predominance. Although Verne was a brilliant swordsman, he wasn’t the type to target his opponent’s weak points. But a more observant opponent could easily see through your quick temper, and sweep you off your feet.”

He was a grey-haired man in his mid-fifties, but he still had a stout and tanned body, and the peering glances he gave the sword-slaves were filled with intensity.

“His opponent was that Verne, though. That guy was, curiously enough, in perfectly good shape,” a new voice called out, belonging to Tarkas Gladiatorial Group’s number one giant, Gilliam.

He had been in the same arena as Orba and Shique the day before, carrying a battle-ax on his shoulder, and with that the three strongest sword-slaves were gathered together. With long auburn hair in as much disorder as possible, his face, grinning with clenched teeth, had a look as intimidating as that of a wild lion.

“When I heard you had to go against Verne, I honestly thought you ran out of luck. Well, you don’t have bad skills. But, as usual, you still don’t know what it means to be a gladiator. It’s worthless if you win gracelessly. It won’t satisfy the guests. The way you carelessly kept running from place to place and then suddenly decided the match with one blow was just not entertaining at all. You’ve got to hit them up front.”

For someone like a sword-slave, it wasn’t just about winning the match. You had to be popular, in short, make sure that a lot of visitors come to the see that gladiator alone. Plain gladiators, after finally having earned a pile of money, would be thrown before wild animals or dragons on their own, only to satisfy the sadistic tastes of their customers.

That was why the gladiators – every one of them – strove to hone their skills, and also tried to appeal to the audience with flashy personalities in order to survive. Some decorated their body with gaudy armours, some made a show out of dragging out their opponent’s heart after their demise, while others inked their bodies with mysterious tattoos.

As for Shique, he dramatically claimed to be ‘a descendent of and ancient royal dynasty’.

“This time, go against me, Orba. I’ll teach you what it is to fight for real.”

“Not interested.”

“Haha, are you afraid of me?”

“Oh, I am. I’m scared. So, get lost.”

“You bastard!”

As Orba continued eating his meal in his usual stooped behaviour, Gilliam pushed him in the back.

“Stop it!” Gowen commanded.

If there was a disturbance, the soldiers belonging to the gladiatorial group would rush in, so for the time being Gilliam took his leave with a reddened face.

“Come to think of it, some strange newcomers have appeared,” Gowen said, after some time had passed, as if he suddenly remembered. It looked like he was talking about the ones Orba had seen too, trailing behind Tarkas back then.

“Strange? Like, with horns in their hair, and the bulge of a tail in the back of their pants?” a sword slave named Kain interfered.

He was a boy, the same age as Orba, who came to the detention facility a year ago and took after him. He wasn’t that great physically or with a sword, but he excelled in dexterity, especially when handling handguns or rifles.

“Or maybe a survivor from the Ryuujin<ref>Dragon people.</ref> Tribe, doesn’t that sound romantic?”

“Ryuujin, Geblin, or whatever type of person appears now, I probably wouldn’t even be surprised. This is a sword slave company after all, a trading place for all kinds of races.”

“It’s a much simpler story. I heard every last one of those guys hardly have any skill at the sword.”

“What…?”

Kain looked uninterested but stood on the tips of his toes.

“I mostly can’t believe Tarkas would have bought a bunch of good-for-nothings without a grumpy face. But he seemed in an unusually good mood.”

“Oh?”

“Certainly. For a master like Tarkas, whose eyes are always dazzled by the shine of gold, it sounds really strange, right?”

“Good mood? That guy?” Orba said, remembering the situation with Tarkas during the day.

“I’ve known him longer than you. The only times I’ve seen Tarkas in a good mood was when he got the chance to earn a huge amount of money.”

“Then again, I wonder if it’s nobles who came to visit. About an exhibition match, or something like that. Those newcomers could’ve also been nobles who were asking to be bought. Or maybe they’re political offenders who opposed the Mephius Empire. Could there be a request for them to be gruesomely fed to dragons in public?”

“There’s a strange intensity to your words, because I can’t read your face.”

“Anyway, where’s the new book? It’s been three months since I’ve asked for it.”

Losing interest in the conversation, Orba inquired about something else. The other guys had all started raising different topics among themselves. By tomorrow, they were likely to fight as opponents even if they were gladiators working for the same firm. The idea of deepening a friendship more than necessary had never been in Orba’s mind from the start.

“Ahh, it’s been purchased. It’ll be here tomorrow. However… although it seems a little late to say this, you’re a bit unusual too. Of the guys here, even those that can read and write letters, I doubt they’ve ever read more than a hundred in their life.”

Plucking at a skin of chicken, Gowen glanced over at Orba.

“Sometimes, even I’m almost driven with the impulse to tear off that mask. What’s the true face that lies underneath? There are times I think you’re only a young wild brat, and there are times the cool-headedness of a man who has survived many battlefields peeks through. Yesterday was like that. You took the appropriate actions against a Sozos without flinching.”

“Are you praising me or not?”

“I’m praising you. Other than taking up a sword and fighting for yourself, you calmly consider the circumstances. Although I think it may practically be better for leading types, you like books about history and people, get absorbed reading them late into the night and swallow their knowledge, and there’s also that quick temper of yours.”

When meeting him for the first time, basically from the time he was bought by the Tarkas company, Orba’s face had been covered by a mask. Ever since then, he hadn’t taken it off even once. Of course, everybody wanted to know why. They wanted to see his face. They wondered about his origins.

In the beginning, it worried Gowen that Orba met fists with them in response to their curiosity and suspicions. But when half a year had passed, he thought of the makeshift excuse that ‘a magician put a curse on it’ and after a year the teasing stopped, and soon nobody asked him about it anymore. Although some newcomers occasionally asked him about it, Orba was able to turn a blind eye.

“What do you gain from reading a book? At least, at the place where I was born and raised, you didn’t gain respect no matter how many books you owned.”

“It sounds like you’ve been raised by ape men or Geblin.”

“Watch your language, Orba. I think I’m especially kind to you considering the circumstances. If it doesn’t matter to you, I too can adopt that same attitude.”

Behaving like a man who couldn’t understand a joke was one of Gowen’s beloved habits. Orba revealed a stifled smile, but the deep-wrinkled, sword-slave training official unexpectedly gave a serious look.

“As a sword-slave, normally, you only try your best to survive for the day. Some go back out into this corrupted world, but there are some people who are content being a sword-slave for the rest of their life, because they can’t live without committing yet another crime – although, for most, their ‘whole life’ would probably be very short – but, you’re different. You, at least, do not get absorbed in the killing and focus on the future. After that, I always think: Hey, what should I say to such a man? Should I tell him to throw away a future like that? When it’s only hard, even if you hold onto it with such devotion? Or should I tell him to seriously hold on to that hope? Because it will be the strength for him to live this through?”

“Did you secretly drink some alcohol, gramps? You’re talkative.”

“I’m being serious.”

Gowen stubbornly shook his head. Orba decided he had truly gotten drunk. Usually, Gowen wouldn’t have remained silent after being called ‘gramps’.

“Who is it that you fight? The other sword-slaves, yourself, or do you even have a purpose?”

“I don’t know.”

Scuffing his words like a boy, Orba turned away his face. He didn’t want his inner feelings to be seen, where he was trembling like as a child.

Finishing his meal, Orba quickly left the dining hall. Although the sword-slaves could walk about freely, there was nothing but the dining hall and the bedrooms at the detention camp. It was called a bedroom, but it wasn’t much different from a stable to keep livestock. As he lay down in a corner, Orba stared at his own hands.

It had been two years since then. Even today, he could remember it so well. And if he hadn’t confirmed it himself, those ‘two years’ would’ve been no more than a number. For two years, Orba had barely stayed alive, surrounded by the smell of blood, guts, and iron.

However, he killed, survived, did it all over again, and what was the point in all of that?

Orba turned over on the floor. He had already grown accustomed to the feel of his hard mask touching the ground. It was as Tarkas said. Even if he was freed from being a slave, he didn’t know more of how to live the ‘clever’ way of life, but it seemed that Gowen had misunderstood something – he was not waiting with hopes for a future like that. Supposing he did…

Under the thin shadow formed by fangs, Orba tightly gnashed his teeth.

''If I do live through this, then what do I do?''

It was decided. He was tired of doing things over and over in the arena, the massacres, the blood, the fights, killing each other. On the way back, he was never able to think of things like ‘it’s okay’ or ‘it’ll get easier’.

An inexplicable anger was stuck in the glitter of his eyes, on the other side of the mask.

''I’ll get it back. I’ll take it back. And for the ones who took it away from me, even though it is not enough, I will have them fully taste the pain of the agonizing cries from all the people I’ve killed these past two years.''

=== Part 3 ===

“So you’re here, Orba?”

Roan suddenly showed his face.

Orba, who had been looking up at the night sky, rudely averted his eyes. As a punishment for neglecting to take care of the animals and play instead, his mother had taken away his supper, and now he was just outside the barn, sulking on his own. His face, as well as both knees he buried his face in, was full of scratches.

“Did you have another fight?”

“Not really.”

The quick-tempered Orba often quarrelled with the other children in the neighbourhood. Swinging around a wooden sword, he even went as far as the neighbouring village to pick fights. The villagers that caught sight of his figure, almost falling forward as he raced through the fields, half-jokingly said,

“Oh, Orba’s doing his best again,” as they waved their hands and watched over him.
Of course, after having his fights, his mother scolded him to no end.

“Why don’t you follow your brother’s example,” was the same thing she always said.

His older brother was able to do anything. In the old days, he looked through a single book their father brought back when coming from the city for several times, and from that alone he was able to memorize reading and writing letters by himself. He also learned how to do numbers at a very young age. Around the time he turned ten, after begging a merchant from the city to take him in as an assistant, he was also supporting his poor family’s living expenses.

Orba on the other hand, although he’d learned reading and writing letters from his older brother, was terrible at doing numbers, and above all, he didn’t know what to do with his boiling hot blood.

Almost every night, he spent sleepless hours staring at the ceiling. His blood was always screaming in the dark. After fist fights and such, the prickling pain of his injuries seemed to overflow with the hotter, more painful black blood from deeper inside, and it felt as if it would simply jump out into the open.

At those times, he’d jump to his feet and go outside. And he’d pick up his wooden sword that was leaning against the barn. No matter how many times it had been confiscated by his mother, he always made a new one from scratch. It wasn’t uncommon, either, for him to swing around his sword until the break of dawn.

“It’s okay if you get into fights,” Roan said, sitting down next to Orba. “But you have to help mother out properly. Working as a single woman is very hard. You know that too, right?”

Along the southern border of the Mephius Empire, was a place commonly known as Drought Valley. It was a naturally formed valley in Mephius where the river dried out, but there was a poor village, after all not even the name was written down on maps, where Orba had grown up.

Orba didn’t have many memories of his father. He passed away when he was two or three. While he’d been engaged in additional construction work for Apta Fortress, that protected the border south of the village, his father had unluckily fallen victim to a cave-in while he’d been digging through the cliff. Cutting through the valley’s steep cliffs instead of creating houses or buildings was an everyday occurrence in Mephius, and his father had been such a construction worker.

“Father was a man born only to dig a dark hole in the ground.”

He remembered that, one day, his mother had said those words in a tone that was neither complaining nor at grief. With that said, his mother too, was a person who had no pleasure in always working hard from morning till evening, every day. She ploughed the barren fields, sold clothes of her native people and towels she made by hand at the City of Apta once every month, and made the nearly tasteless stew for the young brothers every day without ever getting tired of it.

Orba too, also passed through life without change or colour, but his only pleasure was when his brother came back home for a break, two or three times a month, and brought along many different books.

Books written about the Old World where humankind once left its nest, books about Magic King Zodias, and, above all, historical novels with colourful illustrations or heroic stories, got Orba fully absorbed into them. Brave heroes swinging their swords to rescue a country full of dangers, beautiful maidens in thin clothes that were imprisoned in tall towers, vicious dragons revived from ancient ruins — things he’d never experience in a lifetime and the many dazzling adventures in those worlds made Orba engrossed, and whenever he closed a book, being back in that small, miserable reality surrounding him only made him despair.

“You know, aniki<ref>Familiar/honorific way of saying ‘older brother’.</ref>,” Orba said, burying his head in his arms and holding it with his hands. “I feel like doing something more.”

“You’re not even ten years old, are you? Worrying about such things doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m being serious. Look at all the adults here. Even I’ll become like that within another few years. Day after day, you work and work, but life won’t get any easier. I’ll marry someone sooner or later, a child gets born, and if the child’s an ‘unruly boy’ like me, one day he’ll surely say he wants to go to the city, be a soldier for Mephius, or ride a Garberan airship, and I’ll say something like, ‘Oh, in the old days, your father also held onto dreams like that’, and then I’ll probably laugh along with the other adults while drinking my tea.”

“Everyone’s like that,” Roan laughed, bathing in the pale moonlight.

Around this time, you could always hear singing voices coming from the house on the other side of the road. Listening to the cheerful voices of men who got drunk, although he wasn’t really paying attention, he said,

“Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. There are people who can’t live without working hard every day, people who sail over violent waves by boat, old philosophers who’ve buried themselves in thousand-year-old books, priests of Badyne who will preach their truth to numerous believers, many renowned generals who soar through the skies in dragonstone ships, and even country leaders who’ve subdued many territories at their feet. What they do in a day may be surprisingly different, whether they wet their swords with blood, drown in the letters of the alphabet, or even chant the name of God, but I think even they can’t provide you with an answer.”

“They, too, will think our aspects are hopeless. Like the king who’s surrounded by luxuries I wouldn’t have the money for within a lifetime, and eating his stomach full with delicious food every night. He sometimes takes a large army on a campaign, or gets shocked by betrayal, but every day he’s alive. I’ll never be able to. Neither the king nor the nobles, can even imagine what’s inside our dreams. Those people… Yes, take this night for example, they don’t even seem to be looking up at the same moon as I.”

“I wonder. It could be that, exactly because the king spends every day like that, he may sometimes feel a yearning to spending his life out in town. Maybe, to get away from the constraining life in the imperial court, he wants to go out to a sour-smelling bar sometimes and drown in cheap wine, listening to ridiculous stories, disgusted that, every day, he cannot relax his guard, not even for blood relatives. And he’ll probably think, ‘Ahh, wouldn’t it be easy to just go through life breaking a sweat*, with no more worries about being targeted?’”


“That’s just a delusion. You mean he’s yearning for a life like ours? Just because he doesn’t know the difficulties and insecurities of such a life, he’ll only think of it on a whim.”

“Exactly. Isn’t that what I said? There isn’t a human being anywhere who understands everything, knows what he really wants, or knows who he truly is. I think everybody longs for what they don’t know, what they have not experienced, and they’re also looking for wherever there their true course may lie. In this sense, they’re no different from us.”

“I don’t know. Then, you mean even the king, even the great priest, is someone who’s not completely satisfied?”

But when his brother was about to answer,

“Why are you talking about such difficult things?”

Suddenly Alice appeared, swaying her dark brown hair slightly. It was then that they noticed the singing voices from the house across had completely stopped. It looked the girl had finally come to put them to sleep.

While she seemed to have overheard just a little, Alice showed a dimpled smile,

“In the end, it’s nothing but pointless stuff. In this world, no matter where you’re from, first of all, Orba, you have start by taking care of your mother and work earnestly, so that you can get to eat tomorrow.”

“Hear that, aniki? When they’re not interested in the conversation, women immediately find it difficult, insignificant, or have more important things to do.”

“That, too, is the truth,” Roan laughed merrily.

Alice was two years younger than his brother and three years older than Orba. And when Orba was even younger, they played as if Alice was a sister among the three.

Soon after, they enjoyed talking about memories of those days. When, by Alice’s suggestion, they went fishing at the river, and that same Alice nearly drowned as she slipped on the rocks. Or the time they went to see the caravan’s horses as it arrived at their village, and Orba got into trouble secretly trying to mount one. Or when, because a boy from the nearby village said he ‘saw a wild dragon’, the three went to the rumoured place and got completely lost on the canyon’s intricate path. Although they finally did come home late, all three had to suffer though a good scolding…

“Anyway, wasn’t it because Doug from that village deceived us? Ever since that time, you’ve had a bad relationship, right? Even your opponent from today’s fight……”

“Shut up.”

The nail hitting him right on the head, Orba turned away his face. Although the reason he picked a fight with Doug was all because of Alice, he never spoke of it.

However, as they laughed and reminisced together like that for the entire evening, it was the last time he spoke with his brother in peace.

In those days, the Imperial Dynasty of Mephius and the Kingdom of Garbera were already at war with each other. It was said the Garberan cavalry recently crossed their border, although the two countries had a history of repeated conflict for some time, concerning the very definition of that border. The southern Apta Fortress, which was close to Orba’s village, had also suffered from attacks by Garbera’s mounted troops on many occasions.

Eventually, Garbera temporarily gave up on capturing Apta Fortress, and aimed for striking them by another route. And that was by setting up a trap. Targeting them when the majority of the troops stationed in Apta had been pulled back to the imperial capital, they immediately drove them into an siege.

Naturally, Apta Fortress was forced to a desperate, defensive battle. As it soon turned into holding out until the reinforcements came from the imperial capital, the Mephian army forcibly commandeered soldiers from the surrounding villages. And Orba’s older brother Roan was also one of them.

Of course, his mother screamed, crying. If there was only one hope his mother worked for within her nearly colourless life, it was probably for his brother. Although she clung onto the soldier that tried to take away his brother, Roan gently placed a hand on her shoulder and said,

“It’s okay. Help will come from the imperial capital soon enough, so be patient until then.”

Besides, the pay was much better than that of a merchant’s assistant, he added with a laugh.

Orba, standing next to Alice, was seeing him off, watching the backs of several of the village’s youths crossing over the layers of rock.

''If I were just a little bigger'', Orba thought. ''I could go to the fortress instead of my brother. Then, mother would not have to be so sad either, and I may even receive a distinguished service among the soldiers.''

After his brother disappeared, his mother, who had always been so devoted to work, spent almost the entire day in prayer, as if something inside her completely snapped. Although she sometimes remembered to stand in the kitchen and prepare a meal, when it came to the menu, she acted as if his brother Roan was about to return from the city, making only his favourite food. But when she recalled that he wouldn’t be at the dining table after all, his mother threw it all away in the backyard.

Meanwhile, Orba ploughed the neglected fields, and also took care of their few animals on his own. During the evenings, Orba would climb up a narrow road carved into the cliffs and always stare at the direction of the imperial capital, looking for rows of gorgeous armours, vast dust clouds from military dragons during their march, and the majestic figures of dragonstone battleships – but he never saw the sight he was hoping for.

And, when about three weeks had passed since his brother left, residents from a village beyond the valley, which was closer to the fortress than theirs, were bounding in, out of breath.

“The fortress has fallen!”

They came with the worst news.

Apta Fortress had fallen before the approaching Garbera forces. They said the commanders and main staff who guarded the fortress had started on the escape, leaving their soldiers behind. There were no reinforcements from the imperial capital at Apta, for they’d been sent to the natural stronghold of Birac, next to the ravine further to the north. So it seemed the imperial capital had already decided that that would be heart of the southern border’s line of defence. Apta had only been used to buy time.

And, concerning the land in between, the Garberan forces that were camped at the fortress, started ravaging the surrounding villages. There were acts of plunder and assault – raiding, so to speak.

The people of the village were in a hurry to gather their few belongings, although there was hardly any food with the harvest being near and they were limited to holding their own crops, and left the village in a rush. Those who had acquaintances in the vicinity hurried over there, while the people who did not, took a temporary refuge in the valley, until the Garberan soldiers left their village.

Obviously, Orba followed them, but in the midst of his escape, he noticed that his mother wasn’t around.

Startled out of his wits, Orba turned back to the village. Beyond the rocks towering over the area like hills, he could see the complete panorama of his village sinking behind the evening mists. Surely, she was still there. She was waiting for his brother to come back. For his brother, who may possibly never come back again.

“Orba, where are you going? Orba!”

As Alice’s voice called out behind him, he pushed the crowd aside and headed back in a hurry.

And when he managed to arrive at his destination, there wasn’t a single soul, the village had become as silent as death. Because he was familiar with the scenery, there was an eeriness as if he had wandered into another dimension instead.

From the other side of the valley, he could see a group of men and horses approaching, and Orba ran towards his house in a hurry. When he opened the back door, his mother was there. She was trying to prepare a meal as usual.

“Roan?” his mother said, turning around, but when her eyes fixed on Orba’s sweaty figure, she, miraculously, shrugged her shoulders. “Were you still playing, Orba? Just help me out a little, your brother will be coming home soon.”

Outside, sounds could slightly be heard of the voices of soldiers, chasing the animals that were left behind. Afraid of the smoke rising up, he hurriedly tried to stop his mother. However,

“What’s this, there’s nothing!”

“What a measly village. Even though those guys at Gascon had it better. It seemed they slept with all of the girls.”

“Isn’t there at least any alcohol? Go and look!”

As soon as he thought he heard those voices coming closer, the door was violently kicked down.

Three soldiers came in noisily, each of them equipped with a simple chainmail, lance, and sword. On their faces, blackened by dust clouds, only the eyes casted a unique white light.

“Oh, there’s a woman!”

“What, isn’t she too old? Besides, isn’t there any alcohol? Or something to eat?”

After staring at his mother, who was protectively holding the crouched Orba in her hands, they started vandalizing the house, doing as they pleased. Orba was crouching down completely, concealing his breath like a herbivore trying not to attract the attention of wild beasts.

When the Garberan soldiers smashed through the door, his eyes had caught sight of the wooden sword, which had been resting against it, rolling over the floor. But in the end, it was nothing more than a child’s toy. He hated being told that more than anything, and was more than eager to stare back at those kind of people, but now he understood it painfully.

Then, as the soldiers were ransacking through to the shelves, they grabbed the crude ceramic tableware from inside and carelessly tossed them aside. Making a loud sound, the broken pieces scattered over the floor. It took Orba by surprise, as they were the things his brother Roan used, and his mother, who had been submissive until now, rose up with such force that Orba got pushed aside. From there, she started clinging onto one of the soldiers’ back.

“Hey, what? What?”

“It looks like she wants to play with me!”

A red-faced soldier unwrapped his mother, turned her around, and pushed her down in place. He placed his hand in front of her mouth when she tried to raise a piercing cry, then took out a pointed knife hidden inside his chainmail, and thrust it before his mother’s pale face.

“Stop it, you’d take any woman, wouldn’t you?”

“The taste of a young lass is nice, but an old flower like her ain’t bad either.”

As he spoke his red face showed a vulgar smile, and the thread holding Orba’s tensed up feelings snapped. Raising an awkward cry, he charged in. It was a desperate assault, however, and he was easily blown back by a single arm.

Knocking the back of his head against the shelves, although stunned for a moment, Orba gnashed his teeth and immediately faced forward again. And, from the top of the shelf, there was something that fell down with a loud crash. It was something long and narrow wrapped in a bundle and, with the front part of it torn, it was emitting a silver shine before Orba’s eyes.

''This is…''

Hiding it by reflex, Orba hurriedly tore apart the bundle. As he’d expected, it was a shortsword about sixty centimetres long. The round pommel had Mephian-made characteristics. Matching its slender blade, the handle was also a little thin, fitting nicely into a child’s hand.

As he took a hold of it, several letters carved into the blade jumped into his eyes.

''O, R, B, A...''

It was only for an instant – with his mother’s screams, the sound of the red-faced soldier disorderedly throwing off his chainmail, and the noise of the soldiers laying waste to the house. Although the frightening surge of black blood boiled in his body, he drove it far away and, in that instant, the thoughts squeezed together guided him to an explanation.

The blade was engraved only with ‘Orba’. Of course, he hadn’t known such a thing was in his house. He didn’t think his mother or other acquaintances would’ve especially prepared it for him. For all he knew, couldn’t this be anything but a present from his brother Roan?

But Roan should’ve handed over the money he got for his services to his mother. Besides, a blade like this could not be purchased in ordinary towns. Most likely, after going to Apta Fortress, he got provided with weapons as a soldier, and he’d asked the blacksmith stationed at the fort to engrave his name.

And then, he left it with the caravan that went circled the fortress and the towns. But when it came to his house, his mother must have accepted it. Thinking, afterwards, that it shouldn’t be crossed over into Orba’s hands, she most likely intended to keep it from her son’s sight. She probably thought that it was too dangerous for Orba, or maybe she was afraid that Orba would go away like Roan if he had a sword in hand.

At any rate…

“Hey, what’s that you’re holding?” a soldier called out from Orba’s crouched back. “It looks like you’re holding something valuable. Hey, why don’t you show me?”

“This is mine!”

“That’s not for you decide, but for me. Now, give it here.”

The soldier ridiculing Orba put a hand on his shoulder trying to get him out of the way with force. It was more than enough.

''That’s right, Orba'', he responded to his own inner voice.

“I said, show me — gyahh!”

Turning around, Orba swung his sword downward. With blood spraying from the man’s shoulder, Orba slipped under the staggered soldier’s arm and raced towards the man who was bent over his mother.

The red-faced man tore his eyes away from his mother and jumped back. Quickly picking up his hand-axe, he then received Orba’s blow that was coming at him. Orba stood firm on both his legs and somehow tried to get his sword through, but still, the blade was short, and a child’s strength couldn’t push a hand-axe aside like that. However, instead of easily getting overmatched, Orba made himself fall to the side.

“That brat…”

He swung down another blow with murderous intent. Orba rolled over to the side. After doing one rotation, the axe’s edge bit down there, right in front of his eyes. In that very instant, his blood froze up,

“Stop!”

His mother was clinging onto the red-faced man’s feet. Flying into a rage, the man kicked at her hands, turned around, and raised his axe even higher. When Orba saw it, the tension of his black blood – the anxiety, irritation, rage and other various emotions that had simmering in the boy’s body for such a long time – was about to be released from one single point, as if it had only now taken its final shape.

He stood up. Holding his sword with both hands, he forced it under his arm and slammed it, along with the rest of his body, into the soldier’s defenceless back.

The man’s back, as he’d taken off his armour, first received the blade considerably easy. Then there was a little firm resistance, but it also went through smoothly as Orba’s pushed it through with both hands, until, in the blink of an eye, the point of his sword finally pierced through the man’s chest.

Because Orba was also being dragged while the red-faced man staggered, he hurriedly let go of the sword. The man clashed with his back against the wall. After turning around to face the triumphant Orba, he made his mouth flap open and close, probably trying to say some sort of grudge, and threw up a huge amount of blood as he sank to the floor, until his bright red tongue drooped out and he no longer moved.

“You bastard!” the soldier who had his shoulder cut shouted, grimacing in pain.

“You killed Douga. You lowly brat.”

The other also shouted in a loud voice, and came rushing over at Orba. No longer holding a sword, Orba received a full body blow and rolled over on the floor again. He got kicked in the stomach, and stepped on his back.

“Mother and child both, I’ll hang your heads under the eaves.”

Crawling on all fours, the tip of the sword was thrust before the nape of Orba’s neck. His mother too, was lifted up, twisted by the hand, and placed in the same position next to Orba. No matter how much he wrested his body with all his strength, he couldn’t get rid of the weight of the man standing on his back.

“Let me go!”

“Ahh, right away. After you’ve turned into a corpse, that is!”

Orba, raising a bestial cry, was suddenly hovering in the moment that came between life and death. With a whishing sound of wind being cut as it was brought straight down. Finally, he shouted out his brother Roan’s name, when,

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, the wind-cutting sound ceased. Orba, scrambled thoughts mulling in his head, realized it wasn’t his brother who’d appeared though.

The one who had newly come inside the house, was a Garberan soldier after all. However, unlike the soldiers that had broken in, he was armed all over his body, with not a single part untouched, and his armour too was shining in silver. He still had a young face.

For a short time the soldiers could be seen flinching from the intruder, but then,

“It is as you can see, Knight Apprentice Sir.”

“We’ve come to receive our fair reward after winning the battle. Just because you stood in distinguished service for a while, you’re clad as a knight after all, surely you haven’t come to stop such unrefined things like these, right?” the two explained grimly.

Feigning a courteous manner, there was clearly an air that they were making light of the man.

“Besides, look. Our comrade was killed. There’s no way soldiers with Garberan pride can let this go by without getting vengeance, right?”

The soldier who spoke tipped Orba’s body over at his foot, and established the sword’s aim with his other hand. What Orba’s eyes saw as he looked up at the ceiling, was the point of the sword, but then a single string of light came flashing from the side.

“What are you doing!”

“How pitiable. Vengeance, is it? You mean to say there’s any pride in that against a child?”

The armoured youth had drawn his sword. It seemed like the man had felled that one soldier, for Orba realized the sword that should’ve pierced through his heart had somehow been repelled the to the side. The other roared something in a hoarse voice nearby. It sounded like he’d called out the armoured man’s name, but Orba didn’t catch it at the time.

“Y-Your comrade… how dare you, bastard!”

“I don’t want to be called a comrade or such by inferior people like you.”

As he thrust out the blooded tip of his sword, the soldier stepped back.

“Inferior, you say? Even though you’ve got the same history. Just because you were blessed with the opportunity to make a distinguished service, you get carried away. Always chanting, knight, knight as if it’s your favourite word, but did you become a real knight? You don’t share a bloodline with the Garberan royal family, you’ll be an ‘apprentice’ your whole life. Know your place!”

Soon, the solider who seemed to be stepping back, quickly pulled something out from behind his back and brought it in front of him. It was a crossbow, fixed with a long and slender pedestal, and he released the trigger.

That instant, the armoured youth nimbly turned aside. Making a single spin, as if dancing, he narrowly avoided the arrow and decapitated the soldier’s head. There wasn’t the slightest hesitation. The decapitated head whirled through the air, struck the house’s wall and rolled over the floor.

“Garbera is a country of knights. Instead of further defiling its name, receive the honour of being killed in action.”

His handsome looks, his way of fighting, and those words he murmured – it was all as if a hero had emerged from the books Orba read all the time.

“Commander, what’s the commotion!?”

A voice was raised from the outside, but he replied with “It’s nothing,” as he wiped the blood from his sword.

“You’re a child of Mephius?”

Orba didn’t immediately know what was good answer to the question raised. It was not that he was especially conscious of the name of the country called Mephius, either. The people of Orba’s village, generally living in a world of only about ten kilometres surrounding the village, weren’t very interested in the country or its territorial disputes.

The man gave Orba a thin smile when he gave no answer, and glanced over at the soldier who’d sunk in a puddle of blood. Orba, his body suddenly freezing up, tightly held onto his mother’s shoulders. He started looking if there was any weapon within reach, when,

“Hurry and get away from here,” the young man said. “It was to protect your mother – right? You truly hold the spirit of a knight inside of you. Much more than the people of Garbera, who seem to have forgotten all about the knight’s way. Now, you may get out of here. I’ll try to stop the plunder and assaults as much as possible, but I can’t catch a hold on all of them.”

Those eyes, for some reason, resembled those of his brother Roan. Supporting the shoulder of his sobbing mother, Orba slowly faced the back door, then, pulling his mother by the hand, he ran away at full speed. A wintry wind blowing through the streets after sunset, struck his cheeks. Urging his mother, who kept muttering ‘Roan, Roan’, sometimes even shouting at her, they finally united with Alice and the village people after an hour.

After that, they followed behind Alice’s father and headed for a village that was fifteen kilometres upriver to the north.

Orba didn’t know if the young armoured man had been true to his words, but at least from there on the random plundering was no longer carried out around Apta, which later became the territory of Garbera.

However, the flames were still approaching the village that Orba and the rest had succeeded in running away to earlier.

There were hardly any signs. Suddenly, ‘they’ came at them in full force and immediately started plundering. They were men who were completely harnessed in black. Provisions, clothes, and of course money and goods, all the things of possible value were taken by force. The people, too, were no exception. As soon as they arrived at the village they took the women, and impaled any man who tried to resist with spears from atop their horses, decapitated their heads with swords, and exposed them to gunfire.

Amidst all of the confusion, Orba lost sight of his mother. Just when he stumbled forward with impatience and fright,

“Alice!”

He spotted Alice getting bound by a soldier with her arms behind her back. Even though she was about to be dragged away, Alice was still screaming at him to run away. Completely losing himself, Orba leapt forward. The feeling of killing that one person still remained in his hands. And now he’d decided to do the same thing. He reached out his hand for the sword the soldier was carrying.

But, the moment he took a hold of the handle, he received a strong blow to the back of his head. The sight flickered before his eyes, and his consciousness was soon about to fade. Just before it did, he had a feeling he heard Alice’s voice calling out his name.

When he came to, Orba was lying on his back, spread-eagled, on the ground. His head was throbbing painfully. His consciousness was still a little dim, and he wasn’t even sure if he was dreaming or not.

“General Oubary , what do you want to do?”

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard that voice. Amongst the screams of men and women nearby, and firing in the distance, Orba secretly peeked through half-opened eyes at the one who had been called out to earlier.

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 069.jpg|thumb]]
It was a man atop a horse, holding a bottle of liquor which he’d most likely stolen. He was lightly and stylishly dressed in armour, bald, and had the majestic air of a giant. Even though he had such an serious appearance, there was violet lipstick on his thin lips, giving the elevated, sneering figure a strange kind of look.

“If all the valuables are gone, set fire to the lot. Leave not a single grain of wheat behind for Garbera.”

Saying those words, the man called general threw away his bottle of wine. It splashed against Orba’s cheeks.

“Very well, this village was burned by Garbera. Let the soldiers be thorough. They can have the women, but kill them when they’re done with them. Don’t even sell them off. You will supervise.”

Shortly after that, the screams and shouts died out. Instead, a hot wind roasted his skin, and an acrid stench started filling the air. When he finally managed to stand up, his surroundings had turned into a sea of flames.

There wasn’t a single person left alive. Orba roamed about the village, calling his mother and Alice’s name in a loud voice, while brushing away sparks of fire at his hands. But the only things that came into his sight were the slaughtered bodies of the village people. The bodies of the elderly, women, and children.

''That Oubary…''

With the place scorched all over, Orba’s whole body had become dark red with the blood and soot falling from overhead.

''Isn’t that Oubary… Apta Fortress’s…''

He remembered hearing about it. When the fortress had urgently been recruiting soldiers, he was sure the military men that appeared in the village had spoken the name. He was the veteran general who had been entrusted with the protection of the fort.

So that meant this had been the Mephian army. After the fortress fell, the troops including Oubary went north, ahead of Garbera’s pursuing troops, and burned down the village where Orba and the others had escaped to earlier. And they’d taken all spoils of wars before going back to the capital, so that Garbera couldn’t make use of it.

''I’ll kill them'', Orba vowed.

Mustering up the strength from somewhere in his body, although there had not even been one drop left behind earlier, the power that kept him going forward, it came from his unrelenting vow with the intent to kill.

Although he had no clear answers on whether to kill Oubary, the Garberan soldiers, or the Emperor, and on how to achieve those ends, for now, he just kept on walking.

<noinclude>

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
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|-
| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter1

2013-05-22T03:42:45Z

Kiydon: Reversion+addition of an article

==Chapter 1: Iron and Blood==

=== Part 1 ===

The outcome was decided.

The amphitheatre of Ba Roux shook. The many spectators that were crowded together unanimously shouted out the victor’s name and stamped their feet, creating a racket that sounded much like a tidal wave.

While the winner was being bathed in the passionate and boisterous cheers, the one who had received the opposite fate lay motionless besides his feet. Eventually, the loser’s headless body was struck with a hook and dragged away by the hands of two slaves.

The sun was still glaring even though it was near evening. The spectators’ faces were covered with sweat and glittering brightly, as if someone smeared them with oil, and their eyes, too, were sparkling with bloodlust, as they anticipated the next fight to be yet another battle to the death. Whoever just won or lost didn’t stay on their minds for long. It was only the heat of battle that left an everlasting taste, stood in the air, and kept whirling around the arena.

“Go, go!”

“Do it, kill!”

Today was another success.Because the more virtuous people living in the city, for whom the admission fees were no more than about a child’s weekly allowance, were able to watch the games, over a thousand spectators were gathered.

The next match was a cavalry battle. Both men were armed with spears, emerging from the east and west gates, and crossed each other at a great speed. At the second charge, one of the men got flung off of his mount and, as he scrambled to get up again, the other swiftly jumped off his own horse to give the finishing blow.

Up next were two barely clothed men, who started to grapple each other with their bare hands.

They were sword-slaves, or so-called gladiators. In compensation for doing these public, life-threatening battles, these people were granted a few days of their lives and the minimum amount of food required to get by. Some of them were already born as slaves, some had been thrown into the arena for committing crimes, and there were even those who had personally applied to cast themselves into this living hell.

But if gladiators got well-known enough to become veterans, they received a different kind of popularity from the crowd. One of them, named Shique, was a handsome gladiator who was popular among women and had just won the brawling match. He was strangely pretentious, bowing in a way much like a nobleman would, and notably, shrill voices rose from the crowd.

“Did you see that, brother? Shique just won!”
<ref> She actually calls him お義兄様 ‘ogikei-sama’, which, in this case, means he’s her step-brother. However, she pronounces it as ‘onii-sama’.</ref>

It was the voice of a girl yet in the more tender years of age, who was sitting in one of the grandstands among the front row seats. High pillars, which rose from the corners in the left and right, supported a roof that covered the stand. Only those who were able to pay a large sum of money were able to view the match from these special seats.

From the looks of it, the young man resting his chin on his hands next to her, whom she called ‘brother’, seemed to be dissatisfied. With a long cloth wrapped around his head, the ends dangling from both the left and right just like a believer of Badyne, it looked like he was concealing his face from the glances of people around him.

“Ahh, it is as you say,” he said. “The gladiator you had your eye on won. Now, isn’t that enough? Can we hurry and get something to eat? This place is giving me a headache.”

"But it is only beginning, is it not? Did the smell of blood sicken you? You, the successor of the lands of Mephius?"

“Watch your mouth.”

Not at all worried about the youth’s clear jumpiness, the girl gave a fickle laugh.

The next fight had already started, so the young man was forced to stay after all and rested his cheeks on his hands again with a bitter look on his face. How much blood had to be splattered around, and how many sweaty muscles did she have to see before getting tired of it?

He occasionally stole a sidelong glance at the young girl’s white skin and beautiful face. She had an innocence that matched her age, but a strange sensual and mature beauty as well – it was a view much more charming than that of the savage fight below.

Then, after about two battles, a new stage was being set in the arena. One huge stake got established in the centre, and a single woman was fastened to the top. She was a beautiful woman. Purposely made to wear torn clothes, each time she writhed in pain, her breasts and thighs swayed about while whistles came from the heated male audience.

However, the woman was in no position to be bothered with their obscene looks, for at the same time the stake got put up, a big cage with approximately the same height was being carried in.

Inside was a raging beast that was roughly seven or eight metres long. Its slimy, green scales were flickering in the sunlight. It was a large dragon. Bred through repeated selective breeding by humans, it was of a variety called ‘Sozos’ that Mephius also used in wars.

Its clenched, humongous teeth, and each of its claws extending from six legs, were just like sharp swords. Probably because it was drugged, it seemed to have a somewhat repressed ferociousness and dulled instincts, but being hit by that bulk would nevertheless cause serious injuries, and it looked like it could blow away the steel cage like a toy.

“Now then! Gathered ladies and gentlemen!”

Suddenly an orator standing on an elevation began to speak over a loudspeaker, eager to finish his speech before the beast broke out.

“Next, is the start of our programme. Once, the great dragons that established our culture roamed on the earth’s surface, but they were just the same as the bloodthirsty beast we look down upon now. There is no need to fear. We are the brave souls, the purest of minds, that took over from an era of space voyage. Not even by the dragon’s tusks and claws – not to mention its fearsome, terrible breath! – will we be outdone. Please, take a look at the evidence. Behold the figures of these brave men who challenge this dragon of old, this beast of a terrifying false god!”

From the eastern gate, a single gladiator stepped forward. In the man’s hands, who sported a muscular body, was an iron ball connected to a chain.

“Ballchain Verne!”

The audience’s cheers became even louder, for he was a gladiator could pride himself in being one of the most famous fighters in Ba Roux. The man was about in his mid-thirties with dark skin, and he responded by waving a hand to the ladies and gentlemen in the audience. Then,

“It’s the Tiger!”

“Look, Iron Tiger Orba!”

A swordsman, also alone, walked out, but from the western gate.

"How eccentric," the young man commented on the steel blue mask that was covering gladiator’s face. As if imitating a tiger, small fangs protruded up from the lips, leaving only a small space for the mouth of this man named Orba underneath. Cut out into two splits were openings where the tiger’s eyes would’ve been, but naturally it was only Orba’s eyes peeking through. And, despite a tiger normally having rounded ears, the mask had pointed ends at both sides instead – it was almost as if horns were coming out from the corners.

However, that was all; he had no other outstanding character features. In comparison with Verne, he had an almost feeble body build, and he only held a simple, common longsword in his hand.

The spectators started ridiculing him, saying,

“Look at his thin body. Just one hit of the ballchain will completely smash him up!”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 022.jpg|thumb]]

“They say he took off Meier the Baron’s head at the Arena of Tidan after only two strikes. Let’s see him do the same to our Verne. Go on then!”

“This Iron Tiger Orba,” the girl said, as her cheeks blushed with excitement. “Isn’t this his first appearance in Ba Roux? But he seems to be famous. Do you know of him, brother?”

“How should I know?”

“My, what a cold reply. Fine, if you’re so bored with being here, why don’t we have a little bet on this game? Maybe it’ll end up getting you a little interested.”

“A wager, is it? For what, and how?”

“Simple. Of those two about to fight, who do you expect to win?”

“That’s stupid. How’s that even a bet? Even I know the name of that Verne guy. And his physique is way better. Even an amateur can see that. You're just trying to rip me off, betting on the clear victor yourself, aren't you?”

“My, you’re a difficult customer! But that’s fine. You can just sulk away like that as long as you like. And I even thought of bringing you along so you could have a little distraction. But I got it, I understand – you hate spending time with Ineli. If that’s the case, I will never invite you again, don’t worry!”

The girl stiffly turned away her face, as the young man panickingly stopped resting his chin on his hands.

“W-Wait. I was wrong,” he said. “I’ll bet on that masked swordsman. That’s what you want, right?”

“No. Ineli decided to bet on that swordsman first. You can take Ballchain Verne, brother.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because I like him.”

''Even though you can't see his face?'' – was what the young man was about to say, but he stopped himself in time. He couldn’t afford to displease her even more.

“Now then,” the orator said, raising his voice again. “Will Orba or will Verne take up the role of the hero and set that woman free? Or will these rivals be fighting in vain, as the cage breaks and this poor, beautiful lady ends up in the dragon’s stomach?”

From there on, the two swordsmen would battle, and the winner would rescue the woman – or, as the orator stated, ‘a certain third daughter from a ruined country’ – from the dragon’s clutches, and also earn a night of love-making. Or so the scene was set out to be.

The two men both stepped forward at the same time. As they approached each other, the lack in Orba’s physique became all the more apparent. Verne spoke in a voice that could be heard by those in the front row seats.

“So, you call yourself a tiger, huh? I’ve heard your name. But, there’s nothing more unreliable than a rumour. You can try to hide your face, but I can see the skin underneath. You’re still young, just a kid.”

Ballchain Verne’s thick lips, in proportion to the rest of him, bended into a smile.

“I’m sure the mask is just a bluff so people won’t make fun of you. You’re not a tiger, you’re just a mangy cur! I’ll teach you what a real man’s battle truly is all about!”

Facing Verne, who was loudly laughing at his shoulders, Orba didn’t reply. Probably assuming his nerves were blown away, Verne gave a sneering look, took up a defensive stance, and slung the ballchain over his shoulder.


“Start!”

There was a pointed signalling voice, but it halfway disappeared into the further increasing sound of the audience’s cheers. In an instant, Verne made his move.

He wielded the iron ballchain with all his strength. At first, the masked swordsman was about to rush in, but, as if panicked by his sheer force, he quickly stepped back. There was a small spark as the iron ball chafed against the mask. It was enough for Verne to take pursuit of the stumbling Orba. The huge iron ball, which was much larger than a human head, approached with the howling of the wind, and Orba continued to avoid it by stepping back.

He rolled over the ground, excessively jumped aside, and finally bustled about by making an evasive gesture – which invited laughter from the spectators.

“Look at that, it seems the swordsman you like can’t get out of a tight spot,” the same young man said. “Or could it be that this fight isn't so fair and square?”

“You think?” the girl said, looking straight ahead as she put a finger to her plump and florid lips. “If that’s so, then why hasn’t the match ended yet?”

“That’s because his opponent keeps pitifully running from place to place.”

“I wonder why Verne can’t corner an opponent who so clumsily keeps running away.”

The young man wanted to say something in return but kept his mouth shut. As he watched, he noticed that Orba wasn’t outright retreating, but kept circling around his opponent while maintaining a fixed distance. And it looked like Verne was no longer able to attack and pursue his opponent so hastily either.

Probably because he lost his temper, Verne put all of his strength into tossing another blow. The iron ball flew past Orba’s shoulder and – although it seemed obvious to the bystanders that this was like a golden opportunity – he only returned a slight thrust with his sword, while once again taking his distance.

“Get serious!”

“Stop messing around!”

The audience stopped laughing and started jeering down at the arena. Not only at Orba, but also at Verne who didn’t seem able to take down his constantly fleeing opponent.

“You bastard!” Verne howled.

When he tried to rush at Orba diagonally, the girl suddenly raised her voice, “Ah!”, in surprise.

Orba, who had until now only retreated backwards, suddenly started to pitch forward. Stopping in his tracks, Verne, too, took the opportunity to strike another blow.

Orba tilted his body wide to the right, avoiding the iron ball and, as he rotated on his left toe, flashed his sword in a diagonal uppercut. The moment the chain got cut apart, a strange, clear sound echoed throughout the arena, then Orba twisted his body again and swung his sword downward with the force of a thunderbolt.

Verne’s cranium was split in two and the giant collapsed soon after.

“M-Magnificent!” the orator cried.

However, because it had happened so swiftly and came with such an unexpected conclusion, the audience was looking rather flabbergasted. Although the awkward silence wrapped around the arena, the victor didn’t seem to care either way and headed up to the stake, and, borrowing the hands of a number of slaves to lift it from the ground, used his sword to cut the ropes that kept the woman bound.

With a shout of delight, she joyfully clung onto his neck, only to be pushed away with a confused look on her face as Orba immediately started to return to his gate.

The girl in the special seat – she had also been staring agape at the sudden fall of the curtain – slowly began to form her lips into a smile. That gladiator named Orba didn’t seem aware of the audience at all. As if stating the only reason he was here today was to fight, and to kill as he was told.

“He… took out Verne.”

“With one blow.”

After that moment of silence, voices praising Orba began to raise little by little. Now that the mood had grown uneasy for the visitors, slowly the clapping of hands, the awkward stamping of feet, and cheers appropriate for a victor started to fill the stands. Then, almost at the instant the arena had returned to the state it was supposed to be in, the air shook heavily.

It was the roar of the Sozos Dragon.

It might have been the drug wearing off, or an instinctive reaction to the smell of blood, but all of a sudden it started swaying its enormous body from right to left, shattering a portion of its cage. One of the slaves who’d been in the process of towing everything away, was caught and raised from the head by the dragon’s claw. Before he could resist, his torso disappeared into the Sozos’s mouth.

There was the sound of breaking bones. And at the same time as the awful sound of salivated chewing could be heard, the arena grounds were suddenly filled with screams. In the midst of all the fear and panic that rapidly swept over the area, the Sozos rather calmly stretched out its limbs further and emerged from the broken cage.

Being pulled along into the crowd that strived to be the first to escape, the young man from earlier almost fell to the floor. But then, he was pulled along by a hand from the side.

“This way. Hurry!”

It was one of the soldiers who’d been guarding the special seats. As he rattled around with a sword and gun, he tried to bring the young man back inside.

“W-Wait. Ineli’s…”

Although he tried to resist, he couldn’t move freely as he kept being jostled by the crowd of people trying to escape. Then, he heard a suspiciously familiar, high-pitched scream. Right in front of the Sozos’s forepaws beyond the dividing wall, was a figure that belonged to no one other than Ineli. The girl had turned a pale colour as she had tumbled over from the gallery, and it looked like she was about to lose consciousness any minute.

The dragon’s long snout opened from top to bottom. As the rows of tusks, similar to sharp pointed swords, opened up, they formed long threads of slaver. The young man was about to involuntarily avert his eyes, when a thin streak of blood spouted from the Sozos’s neck. The gladiator arena’s employed guards had rushed in with guns. However, because they were close to the seats, they could only shoot at point-blank range, and from the way they stood, they hardly had the nerve. While they were conflicted at what to do while it approached, the Sozos turned around quickly and hit them with a single blow of its tail, fully sending several people flying.

The girl had sank down to the floor, her eyes opened wide looking at her surroundings.

Then, from those eyes, she saw.

There was a shadow that ran past the Sozos’s flank like a gust of wind. Just before it came up against the brick wall that divided the seats from the ring, the shadow kicked against it and soared up into the air. A man with a tiger-imitating iron mask jumped into the girl’s sight, the figure of Orba the gladiator landing on top of the Sozos’s head.

Even though she had just witnessed him running up to the Sozos from behind while the dragon was distracted by bullets, she couldn’t suddenly believe it.

Despite Orba’s slim body, his joints and muscles seemed to fortify his arms like steel as he grabbed a firm hold of the dragon’s neck. While further sandwiching its neck between his legs, he held on tight with one arm and, with his other, brought his sword down into the head.

It swung its long tail around, rocked the ground by stamping its feet, but the dragon still struggled, not able to shake off the gladiator, as it shook off a second and a third attack tearing through scales that were equal to an iron armour, and flesh and blood got splattered around. However, although the sword broke when it came to the fourth attack, at that time the other gladiators rushed in.

“Orba!”

Receiving a thrown sword from a brown-skinned swordsman, Orba once again raised it for a fifth attack, following the exact same process as earlier, until he fully caved the middle of the blade into the crown of the dragon’s head.

Its golden eyes goggled longingly at the skies. Just before its huge body sunk from the neck, the swordsman had swooped down next to the guest seats.

The girl, still kneeling on the floor, was looking up at him. It was almost as if he came from a tale, for she felt like a princess caught by an evil wizard, and although she fixed her eyes on him with a throbbing heart, of all things, the would-be-hero gladiator continued his walk, completely ignoring her, and nimbly jumped off the dividing wall and back into the ring.

There was still a cloud of chaotic fear hanging over the arena as he showed her his back and took his leave, but rather than drifting the air of a victor, he looked more like a solitary figure that could hardly endure the stares on him.

“A-Are you okay?”

She turned her eyes to the young man she had brought with her, who came running up to her with bated breath, and suddenly got an odd sensation. She had only seen it with a passing glance earlier, but the eyes underneath that swordsman’s mask seemed to closely resemble those of the young man.

And there was yet another man who focused a long look at Orba’s back, surprised for another reason.

“No way, he is alive.”

He wiped the sweat from his slightly slacking chin with the back of his hand. Standing behind the young man’s back - he was also one of the men who’d been at the special seats - he was speaking to himself in wonder as the unique smell of blood drifted about.

“Orba was his name? Two years... Two entire years, huh.”

=== Part 2 ===

“Two years.”

The gladiator, Orba, staring down the lurking darkness, suddenly murmured those words in his mouth.
Although only ‘two years’, in this line of work, it had been full of hardships, blood, and corpses. How many times had he struggled for his life, only to have both his feet chained at the end, spend the night in the slave pens, where his only pastime was to train all morning in order to keep living as a sword-slave? And then there’s another fight.

No one, except Orba, expected him to be able to live through more than five battles. Two years ago, when Orba first set foot in the arena, he’d still been fourteen years old. His body had been even thinner than it was now, and he’d hardly been able to handle the weapons.

However, at the moment of truth, he’d survived. He brandished the weapon held in his hands, chosen from one of the few weapons he was able to wield, to the limits of his power. He only knew how to fight by recklessly charging in. As he gained experience, his skill, the thickness of each of his muscle fibres, the mastery of new weapons, as well as the opponent’s corpses he stepped over, increased every time he emerged from another fight.

And so, two years passed. Orba didn’t know whether that was a long or a short time. Sometimes, he thought he was a considerably old person, but he also felt like a youngster at times who still didn’t know anything at all about battles.

Anyway, maybe it simply had to do with the fact, that he had not been blessed with the opportunity to see his own face. Lying face up, he was still wearing the same iron mask he wore in the battle ring. Because it had never been removed those two years, the other sword-slaves belonging to the same Tarkas Gladiatorial Group had no way of knowing his true face.

“Get up, slaves! You hate wakin’ up? Then get ready for your worst day yet!”

When morning came, another day for the slaves began. The one in charge of training the sword-slaves, and the slaves’ main supervisor, was Gowen, who drove everyone from their bedrooms and made them start cleaning the accommodations.

When that was finished, taking care of the lions, serpents, boars, tigers and the like – the animals that were used in the arena – was waiting. In particular, taking care of the dragons was hard work. Even taking care of the small- and medium-sized dragons was too much for a single person to handle, but taking care of the large-sized Sozos dragons was far worse. While it was expected for slaves to die by the sword, many had also been crushed underfoot by these dragons that were purposefully trained not to grow accustomed to humans.

Orba set foot in the vast dragon’s abode, which was much larger than the slaves’ dwellings – far from it – and resembled a castle courtyard, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed the back of a woman.

She was Hou Ran. One of the other slaves ordered to feed the dragons, she was directly touching the dragons’ scales. Of course, the dragons’ legs and necks were wrapped in chains, as it was not necessary to carry out yesterday’s example, but that was by no means an absolute guarantee. At a distance that would even cause a gladiator to hesitate, greeting each dragon one by one, she gently touched their scales with her fingers.

“Orba.”

Calling out his name, she quickly turned around.

“So I’ve been found out.”

“I’ve been told by the ‘voice’ of the dragons.”

Ran smiled. She seemed truly unsuitable in an all-men, not to mention savage, sword-slave detention camp, and Orba still hadn’t gotten used to her defenceless smile.

Her skin like polished ebony, combined with hair that seemed to have turned pale, gave off a mysterious charm. Originating from the Dragon God worshipping nomads that roamed in the western mountains of Mephius, despite her primarily reclusive kin, Ran had exceptionally been brimming with curiosity, secretly boarded one of her tribe’s caravan wagons and came over to the outside world. Because she never told him exactly what had happened after that, he did not know when Tarkas hired her, and how she could take care of the dragons single-handedly like this.

“Do these guys know my name?”

“Their ‘voices’ come like images into my head. They all know your face, Orba. You’re liked by the dragons.”

While it appeared idiotic, in fact, it seemed like her pupils, clearly giving the impression of being deep under the sea, held some kind of intelligence lost to civilized men. From the other side of the fence, the small-type dragons were poking out their snouts and snapping at him.

“It doesn’t look that way,” Orba said with a thin smile.

At the time Orba turned up two years ago, Hou Ran was already at the detention camp. Back then, although she didn’t make direct eye contact with the others employed by Tarkas, she didn’t even open her mouth to him.

Whether there were difficulties with Ran seeing his true face through her eyes, or listening with her voice, soon became the target of bets among the sword slaves short of entertainment.*

But, one time, Ran was about to be roughed up by a new sword-slave who’d recently come into the camp. Orba just happened to pass by and had beaten him up, and ever since then Ran had at least been able to speak to him a bit.

“I heard you were attacked by a Sozos at Ba Roux.”

“''I'' was the one who attacked the Sozos,” he emphasized. “It suddenly started getting violent.”

“Even with drugs, it’s useless to imprison its heart by force. If I had been the one supervising it, such a thing would have never happened.”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 035.jpg|thumb]]

She bit her lips, but it was not because she was concerned about Orba or the visitors. With the figure of a girl patting the nape of a medium-sized Baian dragon in the corner of his eye, Orba finished his own work and left the dragon’s abode behind him.

After feeding the animals and cleaning was done, it was time to tend to their weapons. Because they left their own lives in their care, they carefully did them one by one. Whenever they handled weapons, about ten guards in full armour acted as supervisors. Naturally, they were there to make sure none of the sword-slaves tried to revolt.

Then, after being excused for a meal of bread and soup – the survivors of yesterday’s gladiator matches were treated meat and fruit as a reward – they each began their training at the start of noon. Just like when they’d been tending the weapons, there were armed soldiers on the lookout, but this time, the chains that connected both feet were taken off.

Sword-slaves that lasted over two years like Orba were extremely rare. Lives were lost one after another, and new faces always appeared again on the next day. Gowen tirelessly taught them the step work of how to hold a sword or how to handle a gun, and trained them thoroughly until they were fully prepared.

Orba also had some of the newcomers as opponents. Sometimes they clashed swords, just like in an actual fight, and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to part with a limb or lose his life in the midst of training..

Today, there weren’t any casualties. But that did not have to mean they were lucky. The next day may hold an even more miserable fate, and grislier deaths may be awaiting for these gladiators.

When all the faces of the sword-slaves had turned dark, their skin wet with sweat and covered in dust, , Orba moved to the fence separating the training grounds from an aisle on the other side, and caught sight of Tarkas’s figure.

Saying “At ease!” at the newcomer, Orba rushed up towards him.

Also noticing the masked man, Tarkas stopped in his tracks. There was a feeling of distrust slipping through his sagged cheeks.

“What is it, Iron Tiger? Ahh… good job yesterday.” He had a look on his face as if he just now remembered he forgot to feed his pet dog. “Verne was quickly becoming a well-known gladiator. The other gladiator troupe started talking about wanting to pit him against you. ‘Can’t we earn back all the money we invested in Verne that way?’ – don’t try that sarcastic bullshit on me. Well, I suppose I feel a bit grateful as well. And killing that Sozos—”

“Tarkas, how much longer do I have to continue winning?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s been two years already. I’ve kept winning all the time. How many times do I have to be the ‘main event’ like yesterday. Isn’t it about time you take these chains off of my feet?”

Sword-slaves, all of them, were each exchanged on a contract when bought by a merchant. Although Tarkas it seemed to handle it quite vaguely.

“Don’t think I can’t read. Even a slave should have the right to look into my contract. I’ve been waiting here, Tarkas. I should’ve been allowed to leave a long time ago.”

As Orba spoke right in front of him, Tarkas sharply put a squinting look in his eyes.

“So, where do you plan to go? Surely you can be released from my hands, but you’ll still be a criminal. You don’t have the money to pay off your remaining prison term. Or maybe you want to work in the Shaga Mines along the western border? Poisonous gases, wild man-eating beasts, human-hunting Geblin tribes, and – of course – extremely miserable and rigorous labour. If it’s the same hell, or if you think you may have it better off here, hurry up and get back to your training. And don’t ever speak to me like an equal, until you’ve become a full-fledged swordsman that earns his pay.”

Thrusting his thick finger in Orba’s face, Tarkas quickly took his leave, heading for his office. Behind him, unfamiliar faces followed suit. Considering this was a place where legs were tied up in chains, they were probably newly procured slaves.

Orba was silent. His eyes were teeming with rage however, but Tarkas’s words weren’t lies either. Concerning Mephian law, you can basically either sell your life or go to prison.* Like the Mines of Shaga that Tarkas spoke of – should he apply for the country’s public service, accompanied by dangers, and sell himself off as a slave there?

Grasping the fence tightly in his hands, he lost all sense of feeling in his fingers before he knew it, Orba remained there standing in place.

“What are you doing, Orba!? Get back here!”

After finally being rebuked by Gowen, he went back to practice. As always.

A few hours after that, after washing their bodies with a cupful of water, it was time for their second meal of the day. Orba, rounding up his body like a hunchback in the corner of the dining hall, was almost grasping at his food. Like a habit, he couldn’t go through a meal without reading a book.

Then,

“Orba, good job yesterday.”

Another sword-slave, the one named Shique, nestled into his back, and Orba wildly shook him off with his hand.

“That ballchain Verne chap. When the match was decided, I didn’t know what to do. If you seemed to get into a huge disadvantage, I considered shooting him down from the outside.”

“Go away. Unless you want me to wound that smug face of yours.”

“Ooh, scary. But I wouldn’t mind any wound you give me, for it’ll become a bond between me and you.”

Even though it was hard, despite Shique’s chuckling behaviour, to make an accurate judgement on whether he was serious or making a joke, Orba didn’t socialize with him either way. The handsomely Shique had grown out his hair and even used make-up when it came to a gladiatorial battle. And just like that, because it seemed to further his degenerate good looks, he was tremendously popular among the female crowd. Even though the person himself was a self-styled, huge misogynist.

“However, I expected no less from you, Orba. Even without me lending you a hand, you managed to make a truly magnificent performance. Are you, both in name and reality, Tarkas’s top gladiator, I wonder?”

“I wouldn’t say it was magnificent.”

Gowen, the one in charge of training the gladiators, made his appearance. Although Orba showed plain the annoyance in his eyes as he sat down at the same table, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Although you did well, it’s a fact that it was also dangerous. When you broke in, your timing was still too hasty. It’s a bad habit of yours to take risks when you’re driven into a corner, only if even by a bit. You should spend more time putting an effort into ensuring your predominance. Although Verne was a brilliant swordsman, he wasn’t the type to target his opponent’s weak points. But a more observant opponent could easily see through your quick temper, and sweep you off your feet.”

He was a grey-haired man in his mid-fifties, but he still had a stout and tanned body, and the peering glances he gave the sword-slaves were filled with intensity.

“His opponent was that Verne, though. That guy was, curiously enough, in perfectly good shape,” a new voice called out, belonging to Tarkas Gladiatorial Group’s number one giant, Gilliam.

He had been in the same arena as Orba and Shique the day before, carrying a battle-ax on his shoulder, and with that the three strongest sword-slaves were gathered together. With long auburn hair in as much disorder as possible, his face, grinning with clenched teeth, had a look as intimidating as that of a wild lion.

“When I heard you had to go against Verne, I honestly thought you ran out of luck. Well, you don’t have bad skills. But, as usual, you still don’t know what it means to be a gladiator. It’s worthless if you win gracelessly. It won’t satisfy the guests. The way you carelessly kept running from place to place and then suddenly decided the match with one blow was just not entertaining at all. You’ve got to hit them up front.”

For someone like a sword-slave, it wasn’t just about winning the match. You had to be popular, in short, make sure that a lot of visitors come to the see that gladiator alone. Plain gladiators, after finally having earned a pile of money, would be thrown before wild animals or dragons on their own, only to satisfy the sadistic tastes of their customers.

That was why the gladiators – every one of them – strove to hone their skills, and also tried to appeal to the audience with flashy personalities in order to survive. Some decorated their body with gaudy armours, some made a show out of dragging out their opponent’s heart after their demise, while others inked their bodies with mysterious tattoos.

As for Shique, he dramatically claimed to be ‘a descendent of and ancient royal dynasty’.

“This time, go against me, Orba. I’ll teach you what it is to fight for real.”

“Not interested.”

“Haha, are you afraid of me?”

“Oh, I am. I’m scared. So, get lost.”

“You bastard!”

As Orba continued eating his meal in his usual stooped behaviour, Gilliam pushed him in the back.

“Stop it!” Gowen commanded.

If there was a disturbance, the soldiers belonging to the gladiatorial group would rush in, so for the time being Gilliam took his leave with a reddened face.

“Come to think of it, some strange newcomers have appeared,” Gowen said, after some time had passed, as if he suddenly remembered. It looked like he was talking about the ones Orba had seen too, trailing behind Tarkas back then.

“Strange? Like, with horns in their hair, and the bulge of a tail in the back of their pants?” a sword slave named Kain interfered.

He was a boy, the same age as Orba, who came to the detention facility a year ago and took after him. He wasn’t that great physically or with a sword, but he excelled in dexterity, especially when handling handguns or rifles.

“Or maybe a survivor from the Ryuujin<ref>Dragon people.</ref> Tribe, doesn’t that sound romantic?”

“Ryuujin, Geblin, or whatever type of person appears now, I probably wouldn’t even be surprised. This is a sword slave company after all, a trading place for all kinds of races.”

“It’s a much simpler story. I heard every last one of those guys hardly have any skill at the sword.”

“What…?”

Kain looked uninterested but stood on the tips of his toes.

“I mostly can’t believe Tarkas would have bought a bunch of good-for-nothings without a grumpy face. But he seemed in an unusually good mood.”

“Oh?”

“Certainly. For a master like Tarkas, whose eyes are always dazzled by the shine of gold, it sounds really strange, right?”

“Good mood? That guy?” Orba said, remembering the situation with Tarkas during the day.

“I’ve known him longer than you. The only times I’ve seen Tarkas in a good mood was when he got the chance to earn a huge amount of money.”

“Then again, I wonder if it’s nobles who came to visit. About an exhibition match, or something like that. Those newcomers could’ve also been nobles who were asking to be bought. Or maybe they’re political offenders who opposed the Mephius Empire. Could there be a request for them to be gruesomely fed to dragons in public?”

“There’s a strange intensity to your words, because I can’t read your face.”

“Anyway, where’s the new book? It’s been three months since I’ve asked for it.”

Losing interest in the conversation, Orba inquired about something else. The other guys had all started raising different topics among themselves. By tomorrow, they were likely to fight as opponents even if they were gladiators working for the same firm. The idea of deepening a friendship more than necessary had never been in Orba’s mind from the start.

“Ahh, it’s been purchased. It’ll be here tomorrow. However… although it seems a little late to say this, you’re a bit unusual too. Of the guys here, even those that can read and write letters, I doubt they’ve ever read more than a hundred in their life.”

Plucking at a skin of chicken, Gowen glanced over at Orba.

“Sometimes, even I’m almost driven with the impulse to tear off that mask. What’s the true face that lies underneath? There are times I think you’re only a young wild brat, and there are times the cool-headedness of a man who has survived many battlefields peeks through. Yesterday was like that. You took the appropriate actions against a Sozos without flinching.”

“Are you praising me or not?”

“I’m praising you. Other than taking up a sword and fighting for yourself, you calmly consider the circumstances. Although I think it may practically be better for leading types, you like books about history and people, get absorbed reading them late into the night and swallow their knowledge, and there’s also that quick temper of yours.”

When meeting him for the first time, basically from the time he was bought by the Tarkas company, Orba’s face had been covered by a mask. Ever since then, he hadn’t taken it off even once. Of course, everybody wanted to know why. They wanted to see his face. They wondered about his origins.

In the beginning, it worried Gowen that Orba met fists with them in response to their curiosity and suspicions. But when half a year had passed, he thought of the makeshift excuse that ‘a magician put a curse on it’ and after a year the teasing stopped, and soon nobody asked him about it anymore. Although some newcomers occasionally asked him about it, Orba was able to turn a blind eye.

“What do you gain from reading a book? At least, at the place where I was born and raised, you didn’t gain respect no matter how many books you owned.”

“It sounds like you’ve been raised by ape men or Geblin.”

“Watch your language, Orba. I think I’m especially kind to you considering the circumstances. If it doesn’t matter to you, I too can adopt that same attitude.”

Behaving like a man who couldn’t understand a joke was one of Gowen’s beloved habits. Orba revealed a stifled smile, but the deep-wrinkled, sword-slave training official unexpectedly gave a serious look.

“As a sword-slave, normally, you only try your best to survive for the day. Some go back out into this corrupted world, but there are some people who are content being a sword-slave for the rest of their life, because they can’t live without committing yet another crime – although, for most, their ‘whole life’ would probably be very short – but, you’re different. You, at least, do not get absorbed in the killing and focus on the future. After that, I always think: Hey, what should I say to such a man? Should I tell him to throw away a future like that? When it’s only hard, even if you hold onto it with such devotion? Or should I tell him to seriously hold on to that hope? Because it will be the strength for him to live this through?”

“Did you secretly drink some alcohol, gramps? You’re talkative.”

“I’m being serious.”

Gowen stubbornly shook his head. Orba decided he had truly gotten drunk. Usually, Gowen wouldn’t have remained silent after being called ‘gramps’.

“Who is it that you fight? The other sword-slaves, yourself, or do you even have a purpose?”

“I don’t know.”

Scuffing his words like a boy, Orba turned away his face. He didn’t want his inner feelings to be seen, where he was trembling like as a child.

Finishing his meal, Orba quickly left the dining hall. Although the sword-slaves could walk about freely, there was nothing but the dining hall and the bedrooms at the detention camp. It was called a bedroom, but it wasn’t much different from a stable to keep livestock. As he lay down in a corner, Orba stared at his own hands.

It had been two years since then. Even today, he could remember it so well. And if he hadn’t confirmed it himself, those ‘two years’ would’ve been no more than a number. For two years, Orba had barely stayed alive, surrounded by the smell of blood, guts, and iron.

However, he killed, survived, did it all over again, and what was the point in all of that?

Orba turned over on the floor. He had already grown accustomed to the feel of his hard mask touching the ground. It was as Tarkas said. Even if he was freed from being a slave, he didn’t know more of how to live the ‘clever’ way of life, but it seemed that Gowen had misunderstood something – he was not waiting with hopes for a future like that. Supposing he did…

Under the thin shadow formed by fangs, Orba tightly gnashed his teeth.

''If I do live through this, then what do I do?''

It was decided. He was tired of doing things over and over in the arena, the massacres, the blood, the fights, killing each other. On the way back, he was never able to think of things like ‘it’s okay’ or ‘it’ll get easier’.

An inexplicable anger was stuck in the glitter of his eyes, on the other side of the mask.

''I’ll get it back. I’ll take it back. And for the ones who took it away from me, even though it is not enough, I will have them fully taste the pain of the agonizing cries from all the people I’ve killed these past two years.''

=== Part 3 ===

“So you’re here, Orba?”

Roan suddenly showed his face.

Orba, who had been looking up at the night sky, rudely averted his eyes. As a punishment for neglecting to take care of the animals and play instead, his mother had taken away his supper, and now he was just outside the barn, sulking on his own. His face, as well as both knees he buried his face in, was full of scratches.

“Did you have another fight?”

“Not really.”

The quick-tempered Orba often quarrelled with the other children in the neighbourhood. Swinging around a wooden sword, he even went as far as the neighbouring village to pick fights. The villagers that caught sight of his figure, almost falling forward as he raced through the fields, half-jokingly said,

“Oh, Orba’s doing his best again,” as they waved their hands and watched over him.
Of course, after having his fights, his mother scolded him to no end.

“Why don’t you follow your brother’s example,” was the same thing she always said.

His older brother was able to do anything. In the old days, he looked through a single book their father brought back when coming from the city for several times, and from that alone he was able to memorize reading and writing letters by himself. He also learned how to do numbers at a very young age. Around the time he turned ten, after begging a merchant from the city to take him in as an assistant, he was also supporting his poor family’s living expenses.

Orba on the other hand, although he’d learned reading and writing letters from his older brother, was terrible at doing numbers, and above all, he didn’t know what to do with his boiling hot blood.

Almost every night, he spent sleepless hours staring at the ceiling. His blood was always screaming in the dark. After fist fights and such, the prickling pain of his injuries seemed to overflow with the hotter, more painful black blood from deeper inside, and it felt as if it would simply jump out into the open.

At those times, he’d jump to his feet and go outside. And he’d pick up his wooden sword that was leaning against the barn. No matter how many times it had been confiscated by his mother, he always made a new one from scratch. It wasn’t uncommon, either, for him to swing around his sword until the break of dawn.

“It’s okay if you get into fights,” Roan said, sitting down next to Orba. “But you have to help mother out properly. Working as a single woman is very hard. You know that too, right?”

Along the southern border of the Mephius Empire, was a place commonly known as Drought Valley. It was a naturally formed valley in Mephius where the river dried out, but there was a poor village, after all not even the name was written down on maps, where Orba had grown up.

Orba didn’t have many memories of his father. He passed away when he was two or three. While he’d been engaged in additional construction work for Apta Fortress, that protected the border south of the village, his father had unluckily fallen victim to a cave-in while he’d been digging through the cliff. Cutting through the valley’s steep cliffs instead of creating houses or buildings was an everyday occurrence in Mephius, and his father had been such a construction worker.

“Father was a man born only to dig a dark hole in the ground.”

He remembered that, one day, his mother had said those words in a tone that was neither complaining nor at grief. With that said, his mother too, was a person who had no pleasure in always working hard from morning till evening, every day. She ploughed the barren fields, sold clothes of her native people and towels she made by hand at the City of Apta once every month, and made the nearly tasteless stew for the young brothers every day without ever getting tired of it.

Orba too, also passed through life without change or colour, but his only pleasure was when his brother came back home for a break, two or three times a month, and brought along many different books.

Books written about the Old World where humankind once left its nest, books about Magic King Zodias, and, above all, historical novels with colourful illustrations or heroic stories, got Orba fully absorbed into them. Brave heroes swinging their swords to rescue a country full of dangers, beautiful maidens in thin clothes that were imprisoned in tall towers, vicious dragons revived from ancient ruins — things he’d never experience in a lifetime and the many dazzling adventures in those worlds made Orba engrossed, and whenever he closed a book, being back in that small, miserable reality surrounding him only made him despair.

“You know, aniki<ref>Familiar/honorific way of saying ‘older brother’.</ref>,” Orba said, burying his head in his arms and holding it with his hands. “I feel like doing something more.”

“You’re not even ten years old, are you? Worrying about such things doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m being serious. Look at all the adults here. Even I’ll become like that within another few years. Day after day, you work and work, but life won’t get any easier. I’ll marry someone sooner or later, a child gets born, and if the child’s an ‘unruly boy’ like me, one day he’ll surely say he wants to go to the city, be a soldier for Mephius, or ride a Garberan airship, and I’ll say something like, ‘Oh, in the old days, your father also held onto dreams like that’, and then I’ll probably laugh along with the other adults while drinking my tea.”

“Everyone’s like that,” Roan laughed, bathing in the pale moonlight.

Around this time, you could always hear singing voices coming from the house on the other side of the road. Listening to the cheerful voices of men who got drunk, although he wasn’t really paying attention, he said,

“Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. There are people who can’t live without working hard every day, people who sail over violent waves by boat, old philosophers who’ve buried themselves in thousand-year-old books, priests of Badyne who will preach their truth to numerous believers, many renowned generals who soar through the skies in dragonstone ships, and even country leaders who’ve subdued many territories at their feet. What they do in a day may be surprisingly different, whether they wet their swords with blood, drown in the letters of the alphabet, or even chant the name of God, but I think even they can’t provide you with an answer.”

“They, too, will think our aspects are hopeless. Like the king who’s surrounded by luxuries I wouldn’t have the money for within a lifetime, and eating his stomach full with delicious food every night. He sometimes takes a large army on a campaign, or gets shocked by betrayal, but every day he’s alive. I’ll never be able to. Neither the king nor the nobles, can even imagine what’s inside our dreams. Those people… Yes, take this night for example, they don’t even seem to be looking up at the same moon as I.”

“I wonder. It could be that, exactly because the king spends every day like that, he may sometimes feel a yearning to spending his life out in town. Maybe, to get away from the constraining life in the imperial court, he wants to go out to a sour-smelling bar sometimes and drown in cheap wine, listening to ridiculous stories, disgusted that, every day, he cannot relax his guard, not even for blood relatives. And he’ll probably think, ‘Ahh, wouldn’t it be easy to just go through life breaking a sweat*, with no more worries about being targeted?’”


“That’s just a delusion. You mean he’s yearning for a life like ours? Just because he doesn’t know the difficulties and insecurities of such a life, he’ll only think of it on a whim.”

“Exactly. Isn’t that what I said? There isn’t a human being anywhere who understands everything, knows what he really wants, or knows who he truly is. I think everybody longs for what they don’t know, what they have not experienced, and they’re also looking for wherever there their true course may lie. In this sense, they’re no different from us.”

“I don’t know. Then, you mean even the king, even the great priest, is someone who’s not completely satisfied?”

But when his brother was about to answer,

“Why are you talking about such difficult things?”

Suddenly Alice appeared, swaying her dark brown hair slightly. It was then that they noticed the singing voices from the house across had completely stopped. It looked the girl had finally come to put them to sleep.

While she seemed to have overheard just a little, Alice showed a dimpled smile,

“In the end, it’s nothing but pointless stuff. In this world, no matter where you’re from, first of all, Orba, you have start by taking care of your mother and work earnestly, so that you can get to eat tomorrow.”

“Hear that, aniki? When they’re not interested in the conversation, women immediately find it difficult, insignificant, or have more important things to do.”

“That, too, is the truth,” Roan laughed merrily.

Alice was two years younger than his brother and three years older than Orba. And when Orba was even younger, they played as if Alice was a sister among the three.

Soon after, they enjoyed talking about memories of those days. When, by Alice’s suggestion, they went fishing at the river, and that same Alice nearly drowned as she slipped on the rocks. Or the time they went to see the caravan’s horses as it arrived at their village, and Orba got into trouble secretly trying to mount one. Or when, because a boy from the nearby village said he ‘saw a wild dragon’, the three went to the rumoured place and got completely lost on the canyon’s intricate path. Although they finally did come home late, all three had to suffer though a good scolding…

“Anyway, wasn’t it because Doug from that village deceived us? Ever since that time, you’ve had a bad relationship, right? Even your opponent from today’s fight……”

“Shut up.”

The nail hitting him right on the head, Orba turned away his face. Although the reason he picked a fight with Doug was all because of Alice, he never spoke of it.

However, as they laughed and reminisced together like that for the entire evening, it was the last time he spoke with his brother in peace.

In those days, the Imperial Dynasty of Mephius and the Kingdom of Garbera were already at war with each other. It was said the Garberan cavalry recently crossed their border, although the two countries had a history of repeated conflict for some time, concerning the very definition of that border. The southern Apta Fortress, which was close to Orba’s village, had also suffered from attacks by Garbera’s mounted troops on many occasions.

Eventually, Garbera temporarily gave up on capturing Apta Fortress, and aimed for striking them by another route. And that was by setting up a trap. Targeting them when the majority of the troops stationed in Apta had been pulled back to the imperial capital, they immediately drove them into an siege.

Naturally, Apta Fortress was forced to a desperate, defensive battle. As it soon turned into holding out until the reinforcements came from the imperial capital, the Mephian army forcibly commandeered soldiers from the surrounding villages. And Orba’s older brother Roan was also one of them.

Of course, his mother screamed, crying. If there was only one hope his mother worked for within her nearly colourless life, it was probably for his brother. Although she clung onto the soldier that tried to take away his brother, Roan gently placed a hand on her shoulder and said,

“It’s okay. Help will come from the imperial capital soon enough, so be patient until then.”

Besides, the pay was much better than that of a merchant’s assistant, he added with a laugh.

Orba, standing next to Alice, was seeing him off, watching the backs of several of the village’s youths crossing over the layers of rock.

''If I were just a little bigger'', Orba thought. ''I could go to the fortress instead of my brother. Then, mother would not have to be so sad either, and I may even receive a distinguished service among the soldiers.''

After his brother disappeared, his mother, who had always been so devoted to work, spent almost the entire day in prayer, as if something inside her completely snapped. Although she sometimes remembered to stand in the kitchen and prepare a meal, when it came to the menu, she acted as if his brother Roan was about to return from the city, making only his favourite food. But when she recalled that he wouldn’t be at the dining table after all, his mother threw it all away in the backyard.

Meanwhile, Orba ploughed the neglected fields, and also took care of their few animals on his own. During the evenings, Orba would climb up a narrow road carved into the cliffs and always stare at the direction of the imperial capital, looking for rows of gorgeous armours, vast dust clouds from military dragons during their march, and the majestic figures of dragonstone battleships – but he never saw the sight he was hoping for.

And, when about three weeks had passed since his brother left, residents from a village beyond the valley, which was closer to the fortress than theirs, were bounding in, out of breath.

“The fortress has fallen!”

They came with the worst news.

Apta Fortress had fallen before the approaching Garbera forces. They said the commanders and main staff who guarded the fortress had started on the escape, leaving their soldiers behind. There were no reinforcements from the imperial capital at Apta, for they’d been sent to the natural stronghold of Birac, next to the ravine further to the north. So it seemed the imperial capital had already decided that that would be heart of the southern border’s line of defence. Apta had only been used to buy time.

And, concerning the land in between, the Garberan forces that were camped at the fortress, started ravaging the surrounding villages. There were acts of plunder and assault – raiding, so to speak.

The people of the village were in a hurry to gather their few belongings, although there was hardly any food with the harvest being near and they were limited to holding their own crops, and left the village in a rush. Those who had acquaintances in the vicinity hurried over there, while the people who did not, took a temporary refuge in the valley, until the Garberan soldiers left their village.

Obviously, Orba followed them, but in the midst of his escape, he noticed that his mother wasn’t around.

Startled out of his wits, Orba turned back to the village. Beyond the rocks towering over the area like hills, he could see the complete panorama of his village sinking behind the evening mists. Surely, she was still there. She was waiting for his brother to come back. For his brother, who may possibly never come back again.

“Orba, where are you going? Orba!”

As Alice’s voice called out behind him, he pushed the crowd aside and headed back in a hurry.

And when he managed to arrive at his destination, there wasn’t a single soul, the village had become as silent as death. Because he was familiar with the scenery, there was an eeriness as if he had wandered into another dimension instead.

From the other side of the valley, he could see a group of men and horses approaching, and Orba ran towards his house in a hurry. When he opened the back door, his mother was there. She was trying to prepare a meal as usual.

“Roan?” his mother said, turning around, but when her eyes fixed on Orba’s sweaty figure, she, miraculously, shrugged her shoulders. “Were you still playing, Orba? Just help me out a little, your brother will be coming home soon.”

Outside, sounds could slightly be heard of the voices of soldiers, chasing the animals that were left behind. Afraid of the smoke rising up, he hurriedly tried to stop his mother. However,

“What’s this, there’s nothing!”

“What a measly village. Even though those guys at Gascon had it better. It seemed they slept with all of the girls.”

“Isn’t there at least any alcohol? Go and look!”

As soon as he thought he heard those voices coming closer, the door was violently kicked down.

Three soldiers came in noisily, each of them equipped with a simple chainmail, lance, and sword. On their faces, blackened by dust clouds, only the eyes casted a unique white light.

“Oh, there’s a woman!”

“What, isn’t she too old? Besides, isn’t there any alcohol? Or something to eat?”

After staring at his mother, who was protectively holding the crouched Orba in her hands, they started vandalizing the house, doing as they pleased. Orba was crouching down completely, concealing his breath like a herbivore trying not to attract the attention of wild beasts.

When the Garberan soldiers smashed through the door, his eyes had caught sight of the wooden sword, which had been resting against it, rolling over the floor. But in the end, it was nothing more than a child’s toy. He hated being told that more than anything, and was more than eager to stare back at those kind of people, but now he understood it painfully.

Then, as the soldiers were ransacking through to the shelves, they grabbed the crude ceramic tableware from inside and carelessly tossed them aside. Making a loud sound, the broken pieces scattered over the floor. It took Orba by surprise, as they were the things his brother Roan used, and his mother, who had been submissive until now, rose up with such force that Orba got pushed aside. From there, she started clinging onto one of the soldiers’ back.

“Hey, what? What?”

“It looks like she wants to play with me!”

A red-faced soldier unwrapped his mother, turned her around, and pushed her down in place. He placed his hand in front of her mouth when she tried to raise a piercing cry, then took out a pointed knife hidden inside his chainmail, and thrust it before his mother’s pale face.

“Stop it, you’d take any woman, wouldn’t you?”

“The taste of a young lass is nice, but an old flower like her ain’t bad either.”

As he spoke his red face showed a vulgar smile, and the thread holding Orba’s tensed up feelings snapped. Raising an awkward cry, he charged in. It was a desperate assault, however, and he was easily blown back by a single arm.

Knocking the back of his head against the shelves, although stunned for a moment, Orba gnashed his teeth and immediately faced forward again. And, from the top of the shelf, there was something that fell down with a loud crash. It was something long and narrow wrapped in a bundle and, with the front part of it torn, it was emitting a silver shine before Orba’s eyes.

''This is…''

Hiding it by reflex, Orba hurriedly tore apart the bundle. As he’d expected, it was a shortsword about sixty centimetres long. The round pommel had Mephian-made characteristics. Matching its slender blade, the handle was also a little thin, fitting nicely into a child’s hand.

As he took a hold of it, several letters carved into the blade jumped into his eyes.

''O, R, B, A...''

It was only for an instant – with his mother’s screams, the sound of the red-faced soldier disorderedly throwing off his chainmail, and the noise of the soldiers laying waste to the house. Although the frightening surge of black blood boiled in his body, he drove it far away and, in that instant, the thoughts squeezed together guided him to an explanation.

The blade was engraved only with ‘Orba’. Of course, he hadn’t known such a thing was in his house. He didn’t think his mother or other acquaintances would’ve especially prepared it for him. For all he knew, couldn’t this be anything but a present from his brother Roan?

But Roan should’ve handed over the money he got for his services to his mother. Besides, a blade like this could not be purchased in ordinary towns. Most likely, after going to Apta Fortress, he got provided with weapons as a soldier, and he’d asked the blacksmith stationed at the fort to engrave his name.

And then, he left it with the caravan that went circled the fortress and the towns. But when it came to his house, his mother must have accepted it. Thinking, afterwards, that it shouldn’t be crossed over into Orba’s hands, she most likely intended to keep it from her son’s sight. She probably thought that it was too dangerous for Orba, or maybe she was afraid that Orba would go away like Roan if he had a sword in hand.

At any rate…

“Hey, what’s that you’re holding?” a soldier called out from Orba’s crouched back. “It looks like you’re holding something valuable. Hey, why don’t you show me?”

“This is mine!”

“That’s not for you decide, but for me. Now, give it here.”

The soldier ridiculing Orba put a hand on his shoulder trying to get him out of the way with force. It was more than enough.

''That’s right, Orba'', he responded to his own inner voice.

“I said, show me — gyahh!”

Turning around, Orba swung his sword downward. With blood spraying from the man’s shoulder, Orba slipped under the staggered soldier’s arm and raced towards the man who was bent over his mother.

The red-faced man tore his eyes away from his mother and jumped back. Quickly picking up his hand-axe, he then received Orba’s blow that was coming at him. Orba stood firm on both his legs and somehow tried to get his sword through, but still, the blade was short, and a child’s strength couldn’t push a hand-axe aside like that. However, instead of easily getting overmatched, Orba made himself fall to the side.

“That brat…”

He swung down another blow with murderous intent. Orba rolled over to the side. After doing one rotation, the axe’s edge bit down there, right in front of his eyes. In that very instant, his blood froze up,

“Stop!”

His mother was clinging onto the red-faced man’s feet. Flying into a rage, the man kicked at her hands, turned around, and raised his axe even higher. When Orba saw it, the tension of his black blood – the anxiety, irritation, rage and other various emotions that had simmering in the boy’s body for such a long time – was about to be released from one single point, as if it had only now taken its final shape.

He stood up. Holding his sword with both hands, he forced it under his arm and slammed it, along with the rest of his body, into the soldier’s defenceless back.

The man’s back, as he’d taken off his armour, first received the blade considerably easy. Then there was a little firm resistance, but it also went through smoothly as Orba’s pushed it through with both hands, until, in the blink of an eye, the point of his sword finally pierced through the man’s chest.

Because Orba was also being dragged while the red-faced man staggered, he hurriedly let go of the sword. The man clashed with his back against the wall. After turning around to face the triumphant Orba, he made his mouth flap open and close, probably trying to say some sort of grudge, and threw up a huge amount of blood as he sank to the floor, until his bright red tongue drooped out and he no longer moved.

“You bastard!” the soldier who had his shoulder cut shouted, grimacing in pain.

“You killed Douga. You lowly brat.”

The other also shouted in a loud voice, and came rushing over at Orba. No longer holding a sword, Orba received a full body blow and rolled over on the floor again. He got kicked in the stomach, and stepped on his back.

“Mother and child both, I’ll hang your heads under the eaves.”

Crawling on all fours, the tip of the sword was thrust before the nape of Orba’s neck. His mother too, was lifted up, twisted by the hand, and placed in the same position next to Orba. No matter how much he wrested his body with all his strength, he couldn’t get rid of the weight of the man standing on his back.

“Let me go!”

“Ahh, right away. After you’ve turned into a corpse, that is!”

Orba, raising a bestial cry, was suddenly hovering in the moment that came between life and death. With a whishing sound of wind being cut as it was brought straight down. Finally, he shouted out his brother Roan’s name, when,

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, the wind-cutting sound ceased. Orba, scrambled thoughts mulling in his head, realized it wasn’t his brother who’d appeared though.

The one who had newly come inside the house, was a Garberan soldier after all. However, unlike the soldiers that had broken in, he was armed all over his body, with not a single part untouched, and his armour too was shining in silver. He still had a young face.

For a short time the soldiers could be seen flinching from the intruder, but then,

“It is as you can see, Knight Apprentice Sir.”

“We’ve come to receive our fair reward after winning the battle. Just because you stood in distinguished service for a while, you’re clad as a knight after all, surely you haven’t come to stop such unrefined things like these, right?” the two explained grimly.

Feigning a courteous manner, there was clearly an air that they were making light of the man.

“Besides, look. Our comrade was killed. There’s no way soldiers with Garberan pride can let this go by without getting vengeance, right?”

The soldier who spoke tipped Orba’s body over at his foot, and established the sword’s aim with his other hand. What Orba’s eyes saw as he looked up at the ceiling, was the point of the sword, but then a single string of light came flashing from the side.

“What are you doing!”

“How pitiable. Vengeance, is it? You mean to say there’s any pride in that against a child?”

The armoured youth had drawn his sword. It seemed like the man had felled that one soldier, for Orba realized the sword that should’ve pierced through his heart had somehow been repelled the to the side. The other roared something in a hoarse voice nearby. It sounded like he’d called out the armoured man’s name, but Orba didn’t catch it at the time.

“Y-Your comrade… how dare you, bastard!”

“I don’t want to be called a comrade or such by inferior people like you.”

As he thrust out the blooded tip of his sword, the soldier stepped back.

“Inferior, you say? Even though you’ve got the same history. Just because you were blessed with the opportunity to make a distinguished service, you get carried away. Always chanting, knight, knight as if it’s your favourite word, but did you become a real knight? You don’t share a bloodline with the Garberan royal family, you’ll be an ‘apprentice’ your whole life. Know your place!”

Soon, the solider who seemed to be stepping back, quickly pulled something out from behind his back and brought it in front of him. It was a crossbow, fixed with a long and slender pedestal, and he released the trigger.

That instant, the armoured youth nimbly turned aside. Making a single spin, as if dancing, he narrowly avoided the arrow and decapitated the soldier’s head. There wasn’t the slightest hesitation. The decapitated head whirled through the air, struck the house’s wall and rolled over the floor.

“Garbera is a country of knights. Instead of further defiling its name, receive the honour of being killed in action.”

His handsome looks, his way of fighting, and those words he murmured – it was all as if a hero had emerged from the books Orba read all the time.

“Commander, what’s the commotion!?”

A voice was raised from the outside, but he replied with “It’s nothing,” as he wiped the blood from his sword.

“You’re a child of Mephius?”

Orba didn’t immediately know what was good answer to the question raised. It was not that he was especially conscious of the name of the country called Mephius, either. The people of Orba’s village, generally living in a world of only about ten kilometres surrounding the village, weren’t very interested in the country or its territorial disputes.

The man gave Orba a thin smile when he gave no answer, and glanced over at the soldier who’d sunk in a puddle of blood. Orba, his body suddenly freezing up, tightly held onto his mother’s shoulders. He started looking if there was any weapon within reach, when,

“Hurry and get away from here,” the young man said. “It was to protect your mother – right? You truly hold the spirit of a knight inside of you. Much more than the people of Garbera, who seem to have forgotten all about the knight’s way. Now, you may get out of here. I’ll try to stop the plunder and assaults as much as possible, but I can’t catch a hold on all of them.”

Those eyes, for some reason, resembled those of his brother Roan. Supporting the shoulder of his sobbing mother, Orba slowly faced the back door, then, pulling his mother by the hand, he ran away at full speed. A wintry wind blowing through the streets after sunset, struck his cheeks. Urging his mother, who kept muttering ‘Roan, Roan’, sometimes even shouting at her, they finally united with Alice and the village people after an hour.

After that, they followed behind Alice’s father and headed for a village that was fifteen kilometres upriver to the north.

Orba didn’t know if the young armoured man had been true to his words, but at least from there on the random plundering was no longer carried out around Apta, which later became the territory of Garbera.

However, the flames were still approaching the village that Orba and the rest had succeeded in running away to earlier.

There were hardly any signs. Suddenly, ‘they’ came at them in full force and immediately started plundering. They were men who were completely harnessed in black. Provisions, clothes, and of course money and goods, all the things of possible value were taken by force. The people, too, were no exception. As soon as they arrived at the village they took the women, and impaled any man who tried to resist with spears from atop their horses, decapitated their heads with swords, and exposed them to gunfire.

Amidst all of the confusion, Orba lost sight of his mother. Just when he stumbled forward with impatience and fright,

“Alice!”

He spotted Alice getting bound by a soldier with her arms behind her back. Even though she was about to be dragged away, Alice was still screaming at him to run away. Completely losing himself, Orba leapt forward. The feeling of killing that one person still remained in his hands. And now he’d decided to do the same thing. He reached out his hand for the sword the soldier was carrying.

But, the moment he took a hold of the handle, he received a strong blow to the back of his head. The sight flickered before his eyes, and his consciousness was soon about to fade. Just before it did, he had a feeling he heard Alice’s voice calling out his name.

When he came to, Orba was lying on his back, spread-eagled, on the ground. His head was throbbing painfully. His consciousness was still a little dim, and he wasn’t even sure if he was dreaming or not.

“General Oubary , what do you want to do?”

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard that voice. Amongst the screams of men and women nearby, and firing in the distance, Orba secretly peeked through half-opened eyes at the one who had been called out to earlier.

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 069.jpg|thumb]]
It was a man atop a horse, holding a bottle of liquor which he’d most likely stolen. He was lightly and stylishly dressed in armour, bald, and had the majestic air of a giant. Even though he had such an serious appearance, there was violet lipstick on his thin lips, giving the elevated, sneering figure a strange kind of look.

“If all the valuables are gone, set fire to the lot. Leave not a single grain of wheat behind for Garbera.”

Saying those words, the man called general threw away his bottle of wine. It splashed against Orba’s cheeks.

“Very well, this village was burned by Garbera. Let the soldiers be thorough. They can have the women, but kill them when they’re done with them. Don’t even sell them off. You will supervise.”

Shortly after that, the screams and shouts died out. Instead, a hot wind roasted his skin, and an acrid stench started filling the air. When he finally managed to stand up, his surroundings had turned into a sea of flames.

There wasn’t a single person left alive. Orba roamed about the village, calling his mother and Alice’s name in a loud voice, while brushing away sparks of fire at his hands. But the only things that came into his sight were the slaughtered bodies of the village people. The bodies of the elderly, women, and children.

''That Oubary…''

With the place scorched all over, Orba’s whole body had become dark red with the blood and soot falling from overhead.

''Isn’t that Oubary… Apta Fortress’s…''

He remembered hearing about it. When the fortress had urgently been recruiting soldiers, he was sure the military men that appeared in the village had spoken the name. He was the veteran general who had been entrusted with the protection of the fort.

So that meant this had been the Mephian army. After the fortress fell, the troops including Oubary went north, ahead of Garbera’s pursuing troops, and burned down the village where Orba and the others had escaped to earlier. And they’d taken all spoils of wars before going back to the capital, so that Garbera couldn’t make use of it.

''I’ll kill them'', Orba vowed.

Mustering up the strength from somewhere in his body, although there had not even been one drop left behind earlier, the power that kept him going forward, it came from his unrelenting vow with the intent to kill.

Although he had no clear answers on whether to kill Oubary, the Garberan soldiers, or the Emperor, and on how to achieve those ends, for now, he just kept on walking.

<noinclude>

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
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|-
| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter1

2013-05-22T03:42:10Z

Kiydon:

Plain gladiators, after finally having raised around a pile, would be thrown before wild animals or dragons on their own, only to satisfy the sadistic tastes of their customers.
::-I don't know what "raised around a pile" means
::* It's supposed to be 'a pile of money', but that still doesn't make much sense. I've changed it.

As Orba continued eating his meal in his usual stooped behaviour, Gilliam pushed him in the back, who had.
::-the ending "who had" seem like the sentence is incomplete, or otherwise I think it's not needed
::* A leftover from editing, deleted it.

Orba, scrambled thoughts mulling in his head, didn’t acknowledge the sight of his brother, though.
::-I was confused by this line. The phrase "didn't acknowledge the sight of his brother" makes it sound like his brother appeared, but Orba didn't recognize him.
::* Orba called for his brother, but when the knight intervenes, he realizes (author uses the verb for acknowledge, though) that it isn't his brother who helped him. I've edited the sentence a bit, it should be less confusing now I hope.

The armoured youth had drawn his sword. It seemed like, when he understood the sword that should’ve pierced through Orba’s heart had somehow been repelled the to the side, he had felled that one soldier.
::-The sentence structure was confusing to me as to who each "he" referred to. I assume "he understood" is the "armoured youth" , but "he had felled" is the Garberan knight. But to me, it makes it sound like both those "he"s are the same person; unless the "armoured youth"'s sword hit his comrade instead of Orba.
::* I agree it's a bit confusing, and it's because of the order in which it's told, also in the original. But I guess that works better in Japanese. Orba is about to be killed by the 'bad' soldier, but then there's a flash of light, blocking it. The ''other'' 'bad' soldier says "What are you doing?", and then the author explains what happened: the armored youth had felled the soldier who was about to kill Orba. I've attempted to make it less confusing.

Above are sentences that I had trouble understanding their meanings. Maybe it's just me that doesn't understand, in which case just ignore them. I also made some slightly more liberal edits to the text. If you'd prefer I don't edit the text to that extent, let me know and I won't in future chapters. Same for posting sentences that I find unclear (like above) on the talk page if they're to trivial to spend time on. And thanks for the translation, I'm really enjoying it. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 20:48, 1 April 2013 (CDT)

: Thanks for the comments. And don't worry about posting sentences here. I actually appreciate it, because I often don't see it when sentences tend to be confusing while I'm translating. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 04:12, 16 April 2013 (CDT)

Is the the "“Go, go!” " suppose to be the crowd cheering? I find it little awkward but this may just may be me here.
* Yes. They say いけ！, but it can also mean '(go) do it', as in '(go) kill him' or '(go) fight'. Maybe "Fight, fight!" sounds better here, it's not an exact translation but it does its work. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 15:23, 24 April 2013 (CDT)
................................................................................................................................

Today was another success. Because the more virtuous people living in the city, to whom the admission fees were no more than about a child’s weekly allowance, were able to watch the games, over a thousand spectators were gathered.

Today was another success since the more virtuous people living in the city, for whom the admission fees were no more than about a child’s weekly allowance, were able to watch the games, over a thousand spectators were gathered.

*I connected these sentences since there was hanging subordinate clause. I also changed to whom - for whom. While I believe both are correct grammatical the other sounds more fluid to me.
:*I feel like the meaning of the sentence changed now, though. It's "Today was another success." and then a sentence explaining why it was a succes: "Over a thousand spectators were gathered", because "the more virtuous people living in the city were able to watch the games". I'd rather have the sentence order of the second sentence changed, but I'll wait for your reply before doing anything (I don't want to immediately repay you for your work by changing it again :P). --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 15:23, 24 April 2013 (CDT)

*Actually now I see your point about the sentence. The sentence should end at the word "success". Everything about the sentence is correct grammatical. The sentence structure does still make wary with Because in the front of sentence. I find it suitable to revert my first change.

Suggestion
* What about changing "because" to "Due to the fact"

Sorry to dig up an older discussion, but I just wanted to point out that "Because" here is completely fine, as the sentence has a main clause, and the clause that "because" is part of is dependent on that main clause. Thus, it's fine. The notion that "because" cannot start a sentence is false; as long as the clause that "because" is part of is subordinate to another, independent clause, it is correct grammatically. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:And I see I forgot to reply on the 'due to the fact' suggestion. Personally I like 'because', as 'due to the fact' has a bit of a formal feel, so I'll keep it that way.

:On another note, I also start a lot of sentences with 'and' (the author starts a lot of sentences with 'because' and 'and' which is perfectly fine in Japanese), but I'm not quite sure if this is grammatically correct in English or if it sounds a bit odd. This might be because it's grammatically ''incorrect'' to start a sentence with 'and' or 'but' in Dutch ('because' is fine though). Personally, I'm not bothered with a sentence starting with 'and' in English, but I'd like to have a native speaker's opinion.

:--[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 05:54, 16 May 2013 (CDT)

:I don't really see a problem with starting a sentence with "and", given that its used as a stylistic device and used after an independent clause. I'm not completely sure on this point though, but I've seen a lot of authors, including very affluent ones, use it in that way. So I think its fine. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:I'm pretty sure it's grammatically incorrect to start sentences with "And". However, I think it's something that happens often enough in casual speech that it's not incredibly awkward reading it as a native speaker, particularly if it was in dialogue. I'm not entirely sure about starting sentences with "But". For some reason I feel like I wouldn't do that very often, but I don't think it is 'wrong.' Sigh, editing on bt makes me feel depressed at how little English I actually ''know'', as opposed to just relying on what ''feels'' right as a native speaker. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 22:17, 16 May 2013 (CDT)
::update: After I wrote the above I did a quick google search. The top hits seems to suggest that starting sentences with either of them was grammatically correct, and that the idea it wasn't correct was merely a common misconception. So I'm downranking my confidence on the matter. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 20:18, 17 May 2013 (CDT)

:I think that starting a sentence with "but" is fine though if you ask most English teachers, most of them wouldn't reccommend that. Of course, that's disregarding the author's style and whatnot. If we are to stick as close to the original text and styling, I believe it should be fine. Anyways, there are cases where English authors completely disregard grammar laws to establish a specfic voice. --[[User:Vu.P|Vu.P]] ([[User talk:Vu.P|talk]]) 12:31, 17 May 2013 (CDT)

:Grammatically speaking, starting a sentence with "but" is completely fine. The only reason that most English teachers wouldn't recommend doing that is because of the inherent need for the clause including "but" to be a dependent one. There must be an independent clause that the dependent clause connects to. Some students instead forget to include an independent clause, which is where most of the worries come from. If you were to ask any higher level professors, they actually would encourage you to develop your own style, rather than limiting it down to workable, easy solutions. And yes, then there are those authors who ignore some established rules, such as Ernest Hemingway (headache to read for me personally, but that may be my inner grammar/spelling demons acting up), which is generally accepted so long as its consistent. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:Also, as I said before, starting a sentence with "and" is completely fine grammatically. And yes I know that feeling, it really doesn't help though, unfortunately, since as you said, its based on daily, colloquial usages. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:I see. I'll try to be a bit discreet with starting sentences with "and" or "but" (I usually use however instead for the latter one), but I'm glad it isn't grammatically incorrect, because it seems to be part of the writer's style. Thanks. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 07:30, 18 May 2013 (CDT)

.........................................................................................................................................

"It was only the heat of battle that left an everlasting taste, stood in the air, and kept whirling around the arena." I don't think that "stood in the air" is used correctly. 滞留 in 空気中に滞留し probably translates better into "lingering". Also, there is grammatically mistakes with the "and kept whirling around the arena" part, so overall, accounting for the change, "It was only the heat of battle that left an everlasting taste, standing in the air and whirling around the arena." would be a better way of stating the sentence. -[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

.........................................................................................................................................

In the most [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Rakuin_no_Monshou%3AVolume1_Chapter1&diff=253048&oldid=252421 recent two edits]: I think the original "beside" is more natural sounding. Similarly, I like the original "great speed" better; but for this one I think there is a little bit of meaning/connotation difference between the two, so that depends on the intended translation. The other edits seem to be mostly stylistic to me, but I wanted to bring up those two for review. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 20:28, 21 May 2013 (CDT)

*I reverted the besides edit, somehow was thinking that it was a verb. Thanks for pointing that out. "Great speed" would work if there was only one object; there are two gladiators charging at each other. Also, some of the other edits involved tense, location, and some incorrect grammatical usages. Just slowly going through the chapter, not having much time lately; thanks for reviewing the edits again! -[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

:*I interpreted "at great speed" to be referring to their crossing (singular), rather than the individuals themselves (plural). I would say it's similar to the example sentence "They clashed with great force." There 'great force' is referring to the clash. Grammar is not my strong suit, so if you told me I was wrong to construct a sentence that way, I could believe you. But that's what I was thinking when I brought it up. --[[User:Cthaeh|Cthaeh]] ([[User talk:Cthaeh|talk]]) 21:12, 21 May 2013 (CDT)

::* I see what you mean. It would be correct to refer to the crossing with "great speed". I just checked the raw, and the "clash" or "crossing" was indeed what was referred here. I'll change it to "at a great speed", in order to fix the lack of an article in the original. -[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter1

2013-05-22T01:50:40Z

Kiydon: Looked over this one again, and due to parallelism it works.

==Chapter 1: Iron and Blood==

=== Part 1 ===

The outcome was decided.

The amphitheatre of Ba Roux shook. The many spectators that were crowded together unanimously shouted out the victor’s name and stamped their feet, creating a racket that sounded much like a tidal wave.

While the winner was being bathed in the passionate and boisterous cheers, the one who had received the opposite fate lay motionless besides his feet. Eventually, the loser’s headless body was struck with a hook and dragged away by the hands of two slaves.

The sun was still glaring even though it was near evening. The spectators’ faces were covered with sweat and glittering brightly, as if someone smeared them with oil, and their eyes, too, were sparkling with bloodlust, as they anticipated the next fight to be yet another battle to the death. Whoever just won or lost didn’t stay on their minds for long. It was only the heat of battle that left an everlasting taste, stood in the air, and kept whirling around the arena.

“Go, go!”

“Do it, kill!”

Today was another success.Because the more virtuous people living in the city, for whom the admission fees were no more than about a child’s weekly allowance, were able to watch the games, over a thousand spectators were gathered.

The next match was a cavalry battle. Both men were armed with spears, emerging from the east and west gates, and crossed each other at great speeds. At the second charge, one of the men got flung off of his mount and, as he scrambled to get up again, the other swiftly jumped off his own horse to give the finishing blow.

Up next were two barely clothed men, who started to grapple each other with their bare hands.

They were sword-slaves, or so-called gladiators. In compensation for doing these public, life-threatening battles, these people were granted a few days of their lives and the minimum amount of food required to get by. Some of them were already born as slaves, some had been thrown into the arena for committing crimes, and there were even those who had personally applied to cast themselves into this living hell.

But if gladiators got well-known enough to become veterans, they received a different kind of popularity from the crowd. One of them, named Shique, was a handsome gladiator who was popular among women and had just won the brawling match. He was strangely pretentious, bowing in a way much like a nobleman would, and notably, shrill voices rose from the crowd.

“Did you see that, brother? Shique just won!”
<ref> She actually calls him お義兄様 ‘ogikei-sama’, which, in this case, means he’s her step-brother. However, she pronounces it as ‘onii-sama’.</ref>

It was the voice of a girl yet in the more tender years of age, who was sitting in one of the grandstands among the front row seats. High pillars, which rose from the corners in the left and right, supported a roof that covered the stand. Only those who were able to pay a large sum of money were able to view the match from these special seats.

From the looks of it, the young man resting his chin on his hands next to her, whom she called ‘brother’, seemed to be dissatisfied. With a long cloth wrapped around his head, the ends dangling from both the left and right just like a believer of Badyne, it looked like he was concealing his face from the glances of people around him.

“Ahh, it is as you say,” he said. “The gladiator you had your eye on won. Now, isn’t that enough? Can we hurry and get something to eat? This place is giving me a headache.”

"But it is only beginning, is it not? Did the smell of blood sicken you? You, the successor of the lands of Mephius?"

“Watch your mouth.”

Not at all worried about the youth’s clear jumpiness, the girl gave a fickle laugh.

The next fight had already started, so the young man was forced to stay after all and rested his cheeks on his hands again with a bitter look on his face. How much blood had to be splattered around, and how many sweaty muscles did she have to see before getting tired of it?

He occasionally stole a sidelong glance at the young girl’s white skin and beautiful face. She had an innocence that matched her age, but a strange sensual and mature beauty as well – it was a view much more charming than that of the savage fight below.

Then, after about two battles, a new stage was being set in the arena. One huge stake got established in the centre, and a single woman was fastened to the top. She was a beautiful woman. Purposely made to wear torn clothes, each time she writhed in pain, her breasts and thighs swayed about while whistles came from the heated male audience.

However, the woman was in no position to be bothered with their obscene looks, for at the same time the stake got put up, a big cage with approximately the same height was being carried in.

Inside was a raging beast that was roughly seven or eight metres long. Its slimy, green scales were flickering in the sunlight. It was a large dragon. Bred through repeated selective breeding by humans, it was of a variety called ‘Sozos’ that Mephius also used in wars.

Its clenched, humongous teeth, and each of its claws extending from six legs, were just like sharp swords. Probably because it was drugged, it seemed to have a somewhat repressed ferociousness and dulled instincts, but being hit by that bulk would nevertheless cause serious injuries, and it looked like it could blow away the steel cage like a toy.

“Now then! Gathered ladies and gentlemen!”

Suddenly an orator standing on an elevation began to speak over a loudspeaker, eager to finish his speech before the beast broke out.

“Next, is the start of our programme. Once, the great dragons that established our culture roamed on the earth’s surface, but they were just the same as the bloodthirsty beast we look down upon now. There is no need to fear. We are the brave souls, the purest of minds, that took over from an era of space voyage. Not even by the dragon’s tusks and claws – not to mention its fearsome, terrible breath! – will we be outdone. Please, take a look at the evidence. Behold the figures of these brave men who challenge this dragon of old, this beast of a terrifying false god!”

From the eastern gate, a single gladiator stepped forward. In the man’s hands, who sported a muscular body, was an iron ball connected to a chain.

“Ballchain Verne!”

The audience’s cheers became even louder, for he was a gladiator could pride himself in being one of the most famous fighters in Ba Roux. The man was about in his mid-thirties with dark skin, and he responded by waving a hand to the ladies and gentlemen in the audience. Then,

“It’s the Tiger!”

“Look, Iron Tiger Orba!”

A swordsman, also alone, walked out, but from the western gate.

"How eccentric," the young man commented on the steel blue mask that was covering gladiator’s face. As if imitating a tiger, small fangs protruded up from the lips, leaving only a small space for the mouth of this man named Orba underneath. Cut out into two splits were openings where the tiger’s eyes would’ve been, but naturally it was only Orba’s eyes peeking through. And, despite a tiger normally having rounded ears, the mask had pointed ends at both sides instead – it was almost as if horns were coming out from the corners.

However, that was all; he had no other outstanding character features. In comparison with Verne, he had an almost feeble body build, and he only held a simple, common longsword in his hand.

The spectators started ridiculing him, saying,

“Look at his thin body. Just one hit of the ballchain will completely smash him up!”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 022.jpg|thumb]]

“They say he took off Meier the Baron’s head at the Arena of Tidan after only two strikes. Let’s see him do the same to our Verne. Go on then!”

“This Iron Tiger Orba,” the girl said, as her cheeks blushed with excitement. “Isn’t this his first appearance in Ba Roux? But he seems to be famous. Do you know of him, brother?”

“How should I know?”

“My, what a cold reply. Fine, if you’re so bored with being here, why don’t we have a little bet on this game? Maybe it’ll end up getting you a little interested.”

“A wager, is it? For what, and how?”

“Simple. Of those two about to fight, who do you expect to win?”

“That’s stupid. How’s that even a bet? Even I know the name of that Verne guy. And his physique is way better. Even an amateur can see that. You're just trying to rip me off, betting on the clear victor yourself, aren't you?”

“My, you’re a difficult customer! But that’s fine. You can just sulk away like that as long as you like. And I even thought of bringing you along so you could have a little distraction. But I got it, I understand – you hate spending time with Ineli. If that’s the case, I will never invite you again, don’t worry!”

The girl stiffly turned away her face, as the young man panickingly stopped resting his chin on his hands.

“W-Wait. I was wrong,” he said. “I’ll bet on that masked swordsman. That’s what you want, right?”

“No. Ineli decided to bet on that swordsman first. You can take Ballchain Verne, brother.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because I like him.”

''Even though you can't see his face?'' – was what the young man was about to say, but he stopped himself in time. He couldn’t afford to displease her even more.

“Now then,” the orator said, raising his voice again. “Will Orba or will Verne take up the role of the hero and set that woman free? Or will these rivals be fighting in vain, as the cage breaks and this poor, beautiful lady ends up in the dragon’s stomach?”

From there on, the two swordsmen would battle, and the winner would rescue the woman – or, as the orator stated, ‘a certain third daughter from a ruined country’ – from the dragon’s clutches, and also earn a night of love-making. Or so the scene was set out to be.

The two men both stepped forward at the same time. As they approached each other, the lack in Orba’s physique became all the more apparent. Verne spoke in a voice that could be heard by those in the front row seats.

“So, you call yourself a tiger, huh? I’ve heard your name. But, there’s nothing more unreliable than a rumour. You can try to hide your face, but I can see the skin underneath. You’re still young, just a kid.”

Ballchain Verne’s thick lips, in proportion to the rest of him, bended into a smile.

“I’m sure the mask is just a bluff so people won’t make fun of you. You’re not a tiger, you’re just a mangy cur! I’ll teach you what a real man’s battle truly is all about!”

Facing Verne, who was loudly laughing at his shoulders, Orba didn’t reply. Probably assuming his nerves were blown away, Verne gave a sneering look, took up a defensive stance, and slung the ballchain over his shoulder.


“Start!”

There was a pointed signalling voice, but it halfway disappeared into the further increasing sound of the audience’s cheers. In an instant, Verne made his move.

He wielded the iron ballchain with all his strength. At first, the masked swordsman was about to rush in, but, as if panicked by his sheer force, he quickly stepped back. There was a small spark as the iron ball chafed against the mask. It was enough for Verne to take pursuit of the stumbling Orba. The huge iron ball, which was much larger than a human head, approached with the howling of the wind, and Orba continued to avoid it by stepping back.

He rolled over the ground, excessively jumped aside, and finally bustled about by making an evasive gesture – which invited laughter from the spectators.

“Look at that, it seems the swordsman you like can’t get out of a tight spot,” the same young man said. “Or could it be that this fight isn't so fair and square?”

“You think?” the girl said, looking straight ahead as she put a finger to her plump and florid lips. “If that’s so, then why hasn’t the match ended yet?”

“That’s because his opponent keeps pitifully running from place to place.”

“I wonder why Verne can’t corner an opponent who so clumsily keeps running away.”

The young man wanted to say something in return but kept his mouth shut. As he watched, he noticed that Orba wasn’t outright retreating, but kept circling around his opponent while maintaining a fixed distance. And it looked like Verne was no longer able to attack and pursue his opponent so hastily either.

Probably because he lost his temper, Verne put all of his strength into tossing another blow. The iron ball flew past Orba’s shoulder and – although it seemed obvious to the bystanders that this was like a golden opportunity – he only returned a slight thrust with his sword, while once again taking his distance.

“Get serious!”

“Stop messing around!”

The audience stopped laughing and started jeering down at the arena. Not only at Orba, but also at Verne who didn’t seem able to take down his constantly fleeing opponent.

“You bastard!” Verne howled.

When he tried to rush at Orba diagonally, the girl suddenly raised her voice, “Ah!”, in surprise.

Orba, who had until now only retreated backwards, suddenly started to pitch forward. Stopping in his tracks, Verne, too, took the opportunity to strike another blow.

Orba tilted his body wide to the right, avoiding the iron ball and, as he rotated on his left toe, flashed his sword in a diagonal uppercut. The moment the chain got cut apart, a strange, clear sound echoed throughout the arena, then Orba twisted his body again and swung his sword downward with the force of a thunderbolt.

Verne’s cranium was split in two and the giant collapsed soon after.

“M-Magnificent!” the orator cried.

However, because it had happened so swiftly and came with such an unexpected conclusion, the audience was looking rather flabbergasted. Although the awkward silence wrapped around the arena, the victor didn’t seem to care either way and headed up to the stake, and, borrowing the hands of a number of slaves to lift it from the ground, used his sword to cut the ropes that kept the woman bound.

With a shout of delight, she joyfully clung onto his neck, only to be pushed away with a confused look on her face as Orba immediately started to return to his gate.

The girl in the special seat – she had also been staring agape at the sudden fall of the curtain – slowly began to form her lips into a smile. That gladiator named Orba didn’t seem aware of the audience at all. As if stating the only reason he was here today was to fight, and to kill as he was told.

“He… took out Verne.”

“With one blow.”

After that moment of silence, voices praising Orba began to raise little by little. Now that the mood had grown uneasy for the visitors, slowly the clapping of hands, the awkward stamping of feet, and cheers appropriate for a victor started to fill the stands. Then, almost at the instant the arena had returned to the state it was supposed to be in, the air shook heavily.

It was the roar of the Sozos Dragon.

It might have been the drug wearing off, or an instinctive reaction to the smell of blood, but all of a sudden it started swaying its enormous body from right to left, shattering a portion of its cage. One of the slaves who’d been in the process of towing everything away, was caught and raised from the head by the dragon’s claw. Before he could resist, his torso disappeared into the Sozos’s mouth.

There was the sound of breaking bones. And at the same time as the awful sound of salivated chewing could be heard, the arena grounds were suddenly filled with screams. In the midst of all the fear and panic that rapidly swept over the area, the Sozos rather calmly stretched out its limbs further and emerged from the broken cage.

Being pulled along into the crowd that strived to be the first to escape, the young man from earlier almost fell to the floor. But then, he was pulled along by a hand from the side.

“This way. Hurry!”

It was one of the soldiers who’d been guarding the special seats. As he rattled around with a sword and gun, he tried to bring the young man back inside.

“W-Wait. Ineli’s…”

Although he tried to resist, he couldn’t move freely as he kept being jostled by the crowd of people trying to escape. Then, he heard a suspiciously familiar, high-pitched scream. Right in front of the Sozos’s forepaws beyond the dividing wall, was a figure that belonged to no one other than Ineli. The girl had turned a pale colour as she had tumbled over from the gallery, and it looked like she was about to lose consciousness any minute.

The dragon’s long snout opened from top to bottom. As the rows of tusks, similar to sharp pointed swords, opened up, they formed long threads of slaver. The young man was about to involuntarily avert his eyes, when a thin streak of blood spouted from the Sozos’s neck. The gladiator arena’s employed guards had rushed in with guns. However, because they were close to the seats, they could only shoot at point-blank range, and from the way they stood, they hardly had the nerve. While they were conflicted at what to do while it approached, the Sozos turned around quickly and hit them with a single blow of its tail, fully sending several people flying.

The girl had sank down to the floor, her eyes opened wide looking at her surroundings.

Then, from those eyes, she saw.

There was a shadow that ran past the Sozos’s flank like a gust of wind. Just before it came up against the brick wall that divided the seats from the ring, the shadow kicked against it and soared up into the air. A man with a tiger-imitating iron mask jumped into the girl’s sight, the figure of Orba the gladiator landing on top of the Sozos’s head.

Even though she had just witnessed him running up to the Sozos from behind while the dragon was distracted by bullets, she couldn’t suddenly believe it.

Despite Orba’s slim body, his joints and muscles seemed to fortify his arms like steel as he grabbed a firm hold of the dragon’s neck. While further sandwiching its neck between his legs, he held on tight with one arm and, with his other, brought his sword down into the head.

It swung its long tail around, rocked the ground by stamping its feet, but the dragon still struggled, not able to shake off the gladiator, as it shook off a second and a third attack tearing through scales that were equal to an iron armour, and flesh and blood got splattered around. However, although the sword broke when it came to the fourth attack, at that time the other gladiators rushed in.

“Orba!”

Receiving a thrown sword from a brown-skinned swordsman, Orba once again raised it for a fifth attack, following the exact same process as earlier, until he fully caved the middle of the blade into the crown of the dragon’s head.

Its golden eyes goggled longingly at the skies. Just before its huge body sunk from the neck, the swordsman had swooped down next to the guest seats.

The girl, still kneeling on the floor, was looking up at him. It was almost as if he came from a tale, for she felt like a princess caught by an evil wizard, and although she fixed her eyes on him with a throbbing heart, of all things, the would-be-hero gladiator continued his walk, completely ignoring her, and nimbly jumped off the dividing wall and back into the ring.

There was still a cloud of chaotic fear hanging over the arena as he showed her his back and took his leave, but rather than drifting the air of a victor, he looked more like a solitary figure that could hardly endure the stares on him.

“A-Are you okay?”

She turned her eyes to the young man she had brought with her, who came running up to her with bated breath, and suddenly got an odd sensation. She had only seen it with a passing glance earlier, but the eyes underneath that swordsman’s mask seemed to closely resemble those of the young man.

And there was yet another man who focused a long look at Orba’s back, surprised for another reason.

“No way, he is alive.”

He wiped the sweat from his slightly slacking chin with the back of his hand. Standing behind the young man’s back - he was also one of the men who’d been at the special seats - he was speaking to himself in wonder as the unique smell of blood drifted about.

“Orba was his name? Two years... Two entire years, huh.”

=== Part 2 ===

“Two years.”

The gladiator, Orba, staring down the lurking darkness, suddenly murmured those words in his mouth.
Although only ‘two years’, in this line of work, it had been full of hardships, blood, and corpses. How many times had he struggled for his life, only to have both his feet chained at the end, spend the night in the slave pens, where his only pastime was to train all morning in order to keep living as a sword-slave? And then there’s another fight.

No one, except Orba, expected him to be able to live through more than five battles. Two years ago, when Orba first set foot in the arena, he’d still been fourteen years old. His body had been even thinner than it was now, and he’d hardly been able to handle the weapons.

However, at the moment of truth, he’d survived. He brandished the weapon held in his hands, chosen from one of the few weapons he was able to wield, to the limits of his power. He only knew how to fight by recklessly charging in. As he gained experience, his skill, the thickness of each of his muscle fibres, the mastery of new weapons, as well as the opponent’s corpses he stepped over, increased every time he emerged from another fight.

And so, two years passed. Orba didn’t know whether that was a long or a short time. Sometimes, he thought he was a considerably old person, but he also felt like a youngster at times who still didn’t know anything at all about battles.

Anyway, maybe it simply had to do with the fact, that he had not been blessed with the opportunity to see his own face. Lying face up, he was still wearing the same iron mask he wore in the battle ring. Because it had never been removed those two years, the other sword-slaves belonging to the same Tarkas Gladiatorial Group had no way of knowing his true face.

“Get up, slaves! You hate wakin’ up? Then get ready for your worst day yet!”

When morning came, another day for the slaves began. The one in charge of training the sword-slaves, and the slaves’ main supervisor, was Gowen, who drove everyone from their bedrooms and made them start cleaning the accommodations.

When that was finished, taking care of the lions, serpents, boars, tigers and the like – the animals that were used in the arena – was waiting. In particular, taking care of the dragons was hard work. Even taking care of the small- and medium-sized dragons was too much for a single person to handle, but taking care of the large-sized Sozos dragons was far worse. While it was expected for slaves to die by the sword, many had also been crushed underfoot by these dragons that were purposefully trained not to grow accustomed to humans.

Orba set foot in the vast dragon’s abode, which was much larger than the slaves’ dwellings – far from it – and resembled a castle courtyard, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed the back of a woman.

She was Hou Ran. One of the other slaves ordered to feed the dragons, she was directly touching the dragons’ scales. Of course, the dragons’ legs and necks were wrapped in chains, as it was not necessary to carry out yesterday’s example, but that was by no means an absolute guarantee. At a distance that would even cause a gladiator to hesitate, greeting each dragon one by one, she gently touched their scales with her fingers.

“Orba.”

Calling out his name, she quickly turned around.

“So I’ve been found out.”

“I’ve been told by the ‘voice’ of the dragons.”

Ran smiled. She seemed truly unsuitable in an all-men, not to mention savage, sword-slave detention camp, and Orba still hadn’t gotten used to her defenceless smile.

Her skin like polished ebony, combined with hair that seemed to have turned pale, gave off a mysterious charm. Originating from the Dragon God worshipping nomads that roamed in the western mountains of Mephius, despite her primarily reclusive kin, Ran had exceptionally been brimming with curiosity, secretly boarded one of her tribe’s caravan wagons and came over to the outside world. Because she never told him exactly what had happened after that, he did not know when Tarkas hired her, and how she could take care of the dragons single-handedly like this.

“Do these guys know my name?”

“Their ‘voices’ come like images into my head. They all know your face, Orba. You’re liked by the dragons.”

While it appeared idiotic, in fact, it seemed like her pupils, clearly giving the impression of being deep under the sea, held some kind of intelligence lost to civilized men. From the other side of the fence, the small-type dragons were poking out their snouts and snapping at him.

“It doesn’t look that way,” Orba said with a thin smile.

At the time Orba turned up two years ago, Hou Ran was already at the detention camp. Back then, although she didn’t make direct eye contact with the others employed by Tarkas, she didn’t even open her mouth to him.

Whether there were difficulties with Ran seeing his true face through her eyes, or listening with her voice, soon became the target of bets among the sword slaves short of entertainment.*

But, one time, Ran was about to be roughed up by a new sword-slave who’d recently come into the camp. Orba just happened to pass by and had beaten him up, and ever since then Ran had at least been able to speak to him a bit.

“I heard you were attacked by a Sozos at Ba Roux.”

“''I'' was the one who attacked the Sozos,” he emphasized. “It suddenly started getting violent.”

“Even with drugs, it’s useless to imprison its heart by force. If I had been the one supervising it, such a thing would have never happened.”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 035.jpg|thumb]]

She bit her lips, but it was not because she was concerned about Orba or the visitors. With the figure of a girl patting the nape of a medium-sized Baian dragon in the corner of his eye, Orba finished his own work and left the dragon’s abode behind him.

After feeding the animals and cleaning was done, it was time to tend to their weapons. Because they left their own lives in their care, they carefully did them one by one. Whenever they handled weapons, about ten guards in full armour acted as supervisors. Naturally, they were there to make sure none of the sword-slaves tried to revolt.

Then, after being excused for a meal of bread and soup – the survivors of yesterday’s gladiator matches were treated meat and fruit as a reward – they each began their training at the start of noon. Just like when they’d been tending the weapons, there were armed soldiers on the lookout, but this time, the chains that connected both feet were taken off.

Sword-slaves that lasted over two years like Orba were extremely rare. Lives were lost one after another, and new faces always appeared again on the next day. Gowen tirelessly taught them the step work of how to hold a sword or how to handle a gun, and trained them thoroughly until they were fully prepared.

Orba also had some of the newcomers as opponents. Sometimes they clashed swords, just like in an actual fight, and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to part with a limb or lose his life in the midst of training..

Today, there weren’t any casualties. But that did not have to mean they were lucky. The next day may hold an even more miserable fate, and grislier deaths may be awaiting for these gladiators.

When all the faces of the sword-slaves had turned dark, their skin wet with sweat and covered in dust, , Orba moved to the fence separating the training grounds from an aisle on the other side, and caught sight of Tarkas’s figure.

Saying “At ease!” at the newcomer, Orba rushed up towards him.

Also noticing the masked man, Tarkas stopped in his tracks. There was a feeling of distrust slipping through his sagged cheeks.

“What is it, Iron Tiger? Ahh… good job yesterday.” He had a look on his face as if he just now remembered he forgot to feed his pet dog. “Verne was quickly becoming a well-known gladiator. The other gladiator troupe started talking about wanting to pit him against you. ‘Can’t we earn back all the money we invested in Verne that way?’ – don’t try that sarcastic bullshit on me. Well, I suppose I feel a bit grateful as well. And killing that Sozos—”

“Tarkas, how much longer do I have to continue winning?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s been two years already. I’ve kept winning all the time. How many times do I have to be the ‘main event’ like yesterday. Isn’t it about time you take these chains off of my feet?”

Sword-slaves, all of them, were each exchanged on a contract when bought by a merchant. Although Tarkas it seemed to handle it quite vaguely.

“Don’t think I can’t read. Even a slave should have the right to look into my contract. I’ve been waiting here, Tarkas. I should’ve been allowed to leave a long time ago.”

As Orba spoke right in front of him, Tarkas sharply put a squinting look in his eyes.

“So, where do you plan to go? Surely you can be released from my hands, but you’ll still be a criminal. You don’t have the money to pay off your remaining prison term. Or maybe you want to work in the Shaga Mines along the western border? Poisonous gases, wild man-eating beasts, human-hunting Geblin tribes, and – of course – extremely miserable and rigorous labour. If it’s the same hell, or if you think you may have it better off here, hurry up and get back to your training. And don’t ever speak to me like an equal, until you’ve become a full-fledged swordsman that earns his pay.”

Thrusting his thick finger in Orba’s face, Tarkas quickly took his leave, heading for his office. Behind him, unfamiliar faces followed suit. Considering this was a place where legs were tied up in chains, they were probably newly procured slaves.

Orba was silent. His eyes were teeming with rage however, but Tarkas’s words weren’t lies either. Concerning Mephian law, you can basically either sell your life or go to prison.* Like the Mines of Shaga that Tarkas spoke of – should he apply for the country’s public service, accompanied by dangers, and sell himself off as a slave there?

Grasping the fence tightly in his hands, he lost all sense of feeling in his fingers before he knew it, Orba remained there standing in place.

“What are you doing, Orba!? Get back here!”

After finally being rebuked by Gowen, he went back to practice. As always.

A few hours after that, after washing their bodies with a cupful of water, it was time for their second meal of the day. Orba, rounding up his body like a hunchback in the corner of the dining hall, was almost grasping at his food. Like a habit, he couldn’t go through a meal without reading a book.

Then,

“Orba, good job yesterday.”

Another sword-slave, the one named Shique, nestled into his back, and Orba wildly shook him off with his hand.

“That ballchain Verne chap. When the match was decided, I didn’t know what to do. If you seemed to get into a huge disadvantage, I considered shooting him down from the outside.”

“Go away. Unless you want me to wound that smug face of yours.”

“Ooh, scary. But I wouldn’t mind any wound you give me, for it’ll become a bond between me and you.”

Even though it was hard, despite Shique’s chuckling behaviour, to make an accurate judgement on whether he was serious or making a joke, Orba didn’t socialize with him either way. The handsomely Shique had grown out his hair and even used make-up when it came to a gladiatorial battle. And just like that, because it seemed to further his degenerate good looks, he was tremendously popular among the female crowd. Even though the person himself was a self-styled, huge misogynist.

“However, I expected no less from you, Orba. Even without me lending you a hand, you managed to make a truly magnificent performance. Are you, both in name and reality, Tarkas’s top gladiator, I wonder?”

“I wouldn’t say it was magnificent.”

Gowen, the one in charge of training the gladiators, made his appearance. Although Orba showed plain the annoyance in his eyes as he sat down at the same table, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Although you did well, it’s a fact that it was also dangerous. When you broke in, your timing was still too hasty. It’s a bad habit of yours to take risks when you’re driven into a corner, only if even by a bit. You should spend more time putting an effort into ensuring your predominance. Although Verne was a brilliant swordsman, he wasn’t the type to target his opponent’s weak points. But a more observant opponent could easily see through your quick temper, and sweep you off your feet.”

He was a grey-haired man in his mid-fifties, but he still had a stout and tanned body, and the peering glances he gave the sword-slaves were filled with intensity.

“His opponent was that Verne, though. That guy was, curiously enough, in perfectly good shape,” a new voice called out, belonging to Tarkas Gladiatorial Group’s number one giant, Gilliam.

He had been in the same arena as Orba and Shique the day before, carrying a battle-ax on his shoulder, and with that the three strongest sword-slaves were gathered together. With long auburn hair in as much disorder as possible, his face, grinning with clenched teeth, had a look as intimidating as that of a wild lion.

“When I heard you had to go against Verne, I honestly thought you ran out of luck. Well, you don’t have bad skills. But, as usual, you still don’t know what it means to be a gladiator. It’s worthless if you win gracelessly. It won’t satisfy the guests. The way you carelessly kept running from place to place and then suddenly decided the match with one blow was just not entertaining at all. You’ve got to hit them up front.”

For someone like a sword-slave, it wasn’t just about winning the match. You had to be popular, in short, make sure that a lot of visitors come to the see that gladiator alone. Plain gladiators, after finally having earned a pile of money, would be thrown before wild animals or dragons on their own, only to satisfy the sadistic tastes of their customers.

That was why the gladiators – every one of them – strove to hone their skills, and also tried to appeal to the audience with flashy personalities in order to survive. Some decorated their body with gaudy armours, some made a show out of dragging out their opponent’s heart after their demise, while others inked their bodies with mysterious tattoos.

As for Shique, he dramatically claimed to be ‘a descendent of and ancient royal dynasty’.

“This time, go against me, Orba. I’ll teach you what it is to fight for real.”

“Not interested.”

“Haha, are you afraid of me?”

“Oh, I am. I’m scared. So, get lost.”

“You bastard!”

As Orba continued eating his meal in his usual stooped behaviour, Gilliam pushed him in the back.

“Stop it!” Gowen commanded.

If there was a disturbance, the soldiers belonging to the gladiatorial group would rush in, so for the time being Gilliam took his leave with a reddened face.

“Come to think of it, some strange newcomers have appeared,” Gowen said, after some time had passed, as if he suddenly remembered. It looked like he was talking about the ones Orba had seen too, trailing behind Tarkas back then.

“Strange? Like, with horns in their hair, and the bulge of a tail in the back of their pants?” a sword slave named Kain interfered.

He was a boy, the same age as Orba, who came to the detention facility a year ago and took after him. He wasn’t that great physically or with a sword, but he excelled in dexterity, especially when handling handguns or rifles.

“Or maybe a survivor from the Ryuujin<ref>Dragon people.</ref> Tribe, doesn’t that sound romantic?”

“Ryuujin, Geblin, or whatever type of person appears now, I probably wouldn’t even be surprised. This is a sword slave company after all, a trading place for all kinds of races.”

“It’s a much simpler story. I heard every last one of those guys hardly have any skill at the sword.”

“What…?”

Kain looked uninterested but stood on the tips of his toes.

“I mostly can’t believe Tarkas would have bought a bunch of good-for-nothings without a grumpy face. But he seemed in an unusually good mood.”

“Oh?”

“Certainly. For a master like Tarkas, whose eyes are always dazzled by the shine of gold, it sounds really strange, right?”

“Good mood? That guy?” Orba said, remembering the situation with Tarkas during the day.

“I’ve known him longer than you. The only times I’ve seen Tarkas in a good mood was when he got the chance to earn a huge amount of money.”

“Then again, I wonder if it’s nobles who came to visit. About an exhibition match, or something like that. Those newcomers could’ve also been nobles who were asking to be bought. Or maybe they’re political offenders who opposed the Mephius Empire. Could there be a request for them to be gruesomely fed to dragons in public?”

“There’s a strange intensity to your words, because I can’t read your face.”

“Anyway, where’s the new book? It’s been three months since I’ve asked for it.”

Losing interest in the conversation, Orba inquired about something else. The other guys had all started raising different topics among themselves. By tomorrow, they were likely to fight as opponents even if they were gladiators working for the same firm. The idea of deepening a friendship more than necessary had never been in Orba’s mind from the start.

“Ahh, it’s been purchased. It’ll be here tomorrow. However… although it seems a little late to say this, you’re a bit unusual too. Of the guys here, even those that can read and write letters, I doubt they’ve ever read more than a hundred in their life.”

Plucking at a skin of chicken, Gowen glanced over at Orba.

“Sometimes, even I’m almost driven with the impulse to tear off that mask. What’s the true face that lies underneath? There are times I think you’re only a young wild brat, and there are times the cool-headedness of a man who has survived many battlefields peeks through. Yesterday was like that. You took the appropriate actions against a Sozos without flinching.”

“Are you praising me or not?”

“I’m praising you. Other than taking up a sword and fighting for yourself, you calmly consider the circumstances. Although I think it may practically be better for leading types, you like books about history and people, get absorbed reading them late into the night and swallow their knowledge, and there’s also that quick temper of yours.”

When meeting him for the first time, basically from the time he was bought by the Tarkas company, Orba’s face had been covered by a mask. Ever since then, he hadn’t taken it off even once. Of course, everybody wanted to know why. They wanted to see his face. They wondered about his origins.

In the beginning, it worried Gowen that Orba met fists with them in response to their curiosity and suspicions. But when half a year had passed, he thought of the makeshift excuse that ‘a magician put a curse on it’ and after a year the teasing stopped, and soon nobody asked him about it anymore. Although some newcomers occasionally asked him about it, Orba was able to turn a blind eye.

“What do you gain from reading a book? At least, at the place where I was born and raised, you didn’t gain respect no matter how many books you owned.”

“It sounds like you’ve been raised by ape men or Geblin.”

“Watch your language, Orba. I think I’m especially kind to you considering the circumstances. If it doesn’t matter to you, I too can adopt that same attitude.”

Behaving like a man who couldn’t understand a joke was one of Gowen’s beloved habits. Orba revealed a stifled smile, but the deep-wrinkled, sword-slave training official unexpectedly gave a serious look.

“As a sword-slave, normally, you only try your best to survive for the day. Some go back out into this corrupted world, but there are some people who are content being a sword-slave for the rest of their life, because they can’t live without committing yet another crime – although, for most, their ‘whole life’ would probably be very short – but, you’re different. You, at least, do not get absorbed in the killing and focus on the future. After that, I always think: Hey, what should I say to such a man? Should I tell him to throw away a future like that? When it’s only hard, even if you hold onto it with such devotion? Or should I tell him to seriously hold on to that hope? Because it will be the strength for him to live this through?”

“Did you secretly drink some alcohol, gramps? You’re talkative.”

“I’m being serious.”

Gowen stubbornly shook his head. Orba decided he had truly gotten drunk. Usually, Gowen wouldn’t have remained silent after being called ‘gramps’.

“Who is it that you fight? The other sword-slaves, yourself, or do you even have a purpose?”

“I don’t know.”

Scuffing his words like a boy, Orba turned away his face. He didn’t want his inner feelings to be seen, where he was trembling like as a child.

Finishing his meal, Orba quickly left the dining hall. Although the sword-slaves could walk about freely, there was nothing but the dining hall and the bedrooms at the detention camp. It was called a bedroom, but it wasn’t much different from a stable to keep livestock. As he lay down in a corner, Orba stared at his own hands.

It had been two years since then. Even today, he could remember it so well. And if he hadn’t confirmed it himself, those ‘two years’ would’ve been no more than a number. For two years, Orba had barely stayed alive, surrounded by the smell of blood, guts, and iron.

However, he killed, survived, did it all over again, and what was the point in all of that?

Orba turned over on the floor. He had already grown accustomed to the feel of his hard mask touching the ground. It was as Tarkas said. Even if he was freed from being a slave, he didn’t know more of how to live the ‘clever’ way of life, but it seemed that Gowen had misunderstood something – he was not waiting with hopes for a future like that. Supposing he did…

Under the thin shadow formed by fangs, Orba tightly gnashed his teeth.

''If I do live through this, then what do I do?''

It was decided. He was tired of doing things over and over in the arena, the massacres, the blood, the fights, killing each other. On the way back, he was never able to think of things like ‘it’s okay’ or ‘it’ll get easier’.

An inexplicable anger was stuck in the glitter of his eyes, on the other side of the mask.

''I’ll get it back. I’ll take it back. And for the ones who took it away from me, even though it is not enough, I will have them fully taste the pain of the agonizing cries from all the people I’ve killed these past two years.''

=== Part 3 ===

“So you’re here, Orba?”

Roan suddenly showed his face.

Orba, who had been looking up at the night sky, rudely averted his eyes. As a punishment for neglecting to take care of the animals and play instead, his mother had taken away his supper, and now he was just outside the barn, sulking on his own. His face, as well as both knees he buried his face in, was full of scratches.

“Did you have another fight?”

“Not really.”

The quick-tempered Orba often quarrelled with the other children in the neighbourhood. Swinging around a wooden sword, he even went as far as the neighbouring village to pick fights. The villagers that caught sight of his figure, almost falling forward as he raced through the fields, half-jokingly said,

“Oh, Orba’s doing his best again,” as they waved their hands and watched over him.
Of course, after having his fights, his mother scolded him to no end.

“Why don’t you follow your brother’s example,” was the same thing she always said.

His older brother was able to do anything. In the old days, he looked through a single book their father brought back when coming from the city for several times, and from that alone he was able to memorize reading and writing letters by himself. He also learned how to do numbers at a very young age. Around the time he turned ten, after begging a merchant from the city to take him in as an assistant, he was also supporting his poor family’s living expenses.

Orba on the other hand, although he’d learned reading and writing letters from his older brother, was terrible at doing numbers, and above all, he didn’t know what to do with his boiling hot blood.

Almost every night, he spent sleepless hours staring at the ceiling. His blood was always screaming in the dark. After fist fights and such, the prickling pain of his injuries seemed to overflow with the hotter, more painful black blood from deeper inside, and it felt as if it would simply jump out into the open.

At those times, he’d jump to his feet and go outside. And he’d pick up his wooden sword that was leaning against the barn. No matter how many times it had been confiscated by his mother, he always made a new one from scratch. It wasn’t uncommon, either, for him to swing around his sword until the break of dawn.

“It’s okay if you get into fights,” Roan said, sitting down next to Orba. “But you have to help mother out properly. Working as a single woman is very hard. You know that too, right?”

Along the southern border of the Mephius Empire, was a place commonly known as Drought Valley. It was a naturally formed valley in Mephius where the river dried out, but there was a poor village, after all not even the name was written down on maps, where Orba had grown up.

Orba didn’t have many memories of his father. He passed away when he was two or three. While he’d been engaged in additional construction work for Apta Fortress, that protected the border south of the village, his father had unluckily fallen victim to a cave-in while he’d been digging through the cliff. Cutting through the valley’s steep cliffs instead of creating houses or buildings was an everyday occurrence in Mephius, and his father had been such a construction worker.

“Father was a man born only to dig a dark hole in the ground.”

He remembered that, one day, his mother had said those words in a tone that was neither complaining nor at grief. With that said, his mother too, was a person who had no pleasure in always working hard from morning till evening, every day. She ploughed the barren fields, sold clothes of her native people and towels she made by hand at the City of Apta once every month, and made the nearly tasteless stew for the young brothers every day without ever getting tired of it.

Orba too, also passed through life without change or colour, but his only pleasure was when his brother came back home for a break, two or three times a month, and brought along many different books.

Books written about the Old World where humankind once left its nest, books about Magic King Zodias, and, above all, historical novels with colourful illustrations or heroic stories, got Orba fully absorbed into them. Brave heroes swinging their swords to rescue a country full of dangers, beautiful maidens in thin clothes that were imprisoned in tall towers, vicious dragons revived from ancient ruins — things he’d never experience in a lifetime and the many dazzling adventures in those worlds made Orba engrossed, and whenever he closed a book, being back in that small, miserable reality surrounding him only made him despair.

“You know, aniki<ref>Familiar/honorific way of saying ‘older brother’.</ref>,” Orba said, burying his head in his arms and holding it with his hands. “I feel like doing something more.”

“You’re not even ten years old, are you? Worrying about such things doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m being serious. Look at all the adults here. Even I’ll become like that within another few years. Day after day, you work and work, but life won’t get any easier. I’ll marry someone sooner or later, a child gets born, and if the child’s an ‘unruly boy’ like me, one day he’ll surely say he wants to go to the city, be a soldier for Mephius, or ride a Garberan airship, and I’ll say something like, ‘Oh, in the old days, your father also held onto dreams like that’, and then I’ll probably laugh along with the other adults while drinking my tea.”

“Everyone’s like that,” Roan laughed, bathing in the pale moonlight.

Around this time, you could always hear singing voices coming from the house on the other side of the road. Listening to the cheerful voices of men who got drunk, although he wasn’t really paying attention, he said,

“Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. There are people who can’t live without working hard every day, people who sail over violent waves by boat, old philosophers who’ve buried themselves in thousand-year-old books, priests of Badyne who will preach their truth to numerous believers, many renowned generals who soar through the skies in dragonstone ships, and even country leaders who’ve subdued many territories at their feet. What they do in a day may be surprisingly different, whether they wet their swords with blood, drown in the letters of the alphabet, or even chant the name of God, but I think even they can’t provide you with an answer.”

“They, too, will think our aspects are hopeless. Like the king who’s surrounded by luxuries I wouldn’t have the money for within a lifetime, and eating his stomach full with delicious food every night. He sometimes takes a large army on a campaign, or gets shocked by betrayal, but every day he’s alive. I’ll never be able to. Neither the king nor the nobles, can even imagine what’s inside our dreams. Those people… Yes, take this night for example, they don’t even seem to be looking up at the same moon as I.”

“I wonder. It could be that, exactly because the king spends every day like that, he may sometimes feel a yearning to spending his life out in town. Maybe, to get away from the constraining life in the imperial court, he wants to go out to a sour-smelling bar sometimes and drown in cheap wine, listening to ridiculous stories, disgusted that, every day, he cannot relax his guard, not even for blood relatives. And he’ll probably think, ‘Ahh, wouldn’t it be easy to just go through life breaking a sweat*, with no more worries about being targeted?’”


“That’s just a delusion. You mean he’s yearning for a life like ours? Just because he doesn’t know the difficulties and insecurities of such a life, he’ll only think of it on a whim.”

“Exactly. Isn’t that what I said? There isn’t a human being anywhere who understands everything, knows what he really wants, or knows who he truly is. I think everybody longs for what they don’t know, what they have not experienced, and they’re also looking for wherever there their true course may lie. In this sense, they’re no different from us.”

“I don’t know. Then, you mean even the king, even the great priest, is someone who’s not completely satisfied?”

But when his brother was about to answer,

“Why are you talking about such difficult things?”

Suddenly Alice appeared, swaying her dark brown hair slightly. It was then that they noticed the singing voices from the house across had completely stopped. It looked the girl had finally come to put them to sleep.

While she seemed to have overheard just a little, Alice showed a dimpled smile,

“In the end, it’s nothing but pointless stuff. In this world, no matter where you’re from, first of all, Orba, you have start by taking care of your mother and work earnestly, so that you can get to eat tomorrow.”

“Hear that, aniki? When they’re not interested in the conversation, women immediately find it difficult, insignificant, or have more important things to do.”

“That, too, is the truth,” Roan laughed merrily.

Alice was two years younger than his brother and three years older than Orba. And when Orba was even younger, they played as if Alice was a sister among the three.

Soon after, they enjoyed talking about memories of those days. When, by Alice’s suggestion, they went fishing at the river, and that same Alice nearly drowned as she slipped on the rocks. Or the time they went to see the caravan’s horses as it arrived at their village, and Orba got into trouble secretly trying to mount one. Or when, because a boy from the nearby village said he ‘saw a wild dragon’, the three went to the rumoured place and got completely lost on the canyon’s intricate path. Although they finally did come home late, all three had to suffer though a good scolding…

“Anyway, wasn’t it because Doug from that village deceived us? Ever since that time, you’ve had a bad relationship, right? Even your opponent from today’s fight……”

“Shut up.”

The nail hitting him right on the head, Orba turned away his face. Although the reason he picked a fight with Doug was all because of Alice, he never spoke of it.

However, as they laughed and reminisced together like that for the entire evening, it was the last time he spoke with his brother in peace.

In those days, the Imperial Dynasty of Mephius and the Kingdom of Garbera were already at war with each other. It was said the Garberan cavalry recently crossed their border, although the two countries had a history of repeated conflict for some time, concerning the very definition of that border. The southern Apta Fortress, which was close to Orba’s village, had also suffered from attacks by Garbera’s mounted troops on many occasions.

Eventually, Garbera temporarily gave up on capturing Apta Fortress, and aimed for striking them by another route. And that was by setting up a trap. Targeting them when the majority of the troops stationed in Apta had been pulled back to the imperial capital, they immediately drove them into an siege.

Naturally, Apta Fortress was forced to a desperate, defensive battle. As it soon turned into holding out until the reinforcements came from the imperial capital, the Mephian army forcibly commandeered soldiers from the surrounding villages. And Orba’s older brother Roan was also one of them.

Of course, his mother screamed, crying. If there was only one hope his mother worked for within her nearly colourless life, it was probably for his brother. Although she clung onto the soldier that tried to take away his brother, Roan gently placed a hand on her shoulder and said,

“It’s okay. Help will come from the imperial capital soon enough, so be patient until then.”

Besides, the pay was much better than that of a merchant’s assistant, he added with a laugh.

Orba, standing next to Alice, was seeing him off, watching the backs of several of the village’s youths crossing over the layers of rock.

''If I were just a little bigger'', Orba thought. ''I could go to the fortress instead of my brother. Then, mother would not have to be so sad either, and I may even receive a distinguished service among the soldiers.''

After his brother disappeared, his mother, who had always been so devoted to work, spent almost the entire day in prayer, as if something inside her completely snapped. Although she sometimes remembered to stand in the kitchen and prepare a meal, when it came to the menu, she acted as if his brother Roan was about to return from the city, making only his favourite food. But when she recalled that he wouldn’t be at the dining table after all, his mother threw it all away in the backyard.

Meanwhile, Orba ploughed the neglected fields, and also took care of their few animals on his own. During the evenings, Orba would climb up a narrow road carved into the cliffs and always stare at the direction of the imperial capital, looking for rows of gorgeous armours, vast dust clouds from military dragons during their march, and the majestic figures of dragonstone battleships – but he never saw the sight he was hoping for.

And, when about three weeks had passed since his brother left, residents from a village beyond the valley, which was closer to the fortress than theirs, were bounding in, out of breath.

“The fortress has fallen!”

They came with the worst news.

Apta Fortress had fallen before the approaching Garbera forces. They said the commanders and main staff who guarded the fortress had started on the escape, leaving their soldiers behind. There were no reinforcements from the imperial capital at Apta, for they’d been sent to the natural stronghold of Birac, next to the ravine further to the north. So it seemed the imperial capital had already decided that that would be heart of the southern border’s line of defence. Apta had only been used to buy time.

And, concerning the land in between, the Garberan forces that were camped at the fortress, started ravaging the surrounding villages. There were acts of plunder and assault – raiding, so to speak.

The people of the village were in a hurry to gather their few belongings, although there was hardly any food with the harvest being near and they were limited to holding their own crops, and left the village in a rush. Those who had acquaintances in the vicinity hurried over there, while the people who did not, took a temporary refuge in the valley, until the Garberan soldiers left their village.

Obviously, Orba followed them, but in the midst of his escape, he noticed that his mother wasn’t around.

Startled out of his wits, Orba turned back to the village. Beyond the rocks towering over the area like hills, he could see the complete panorama of his village sinking behind the evening mists. Surely, she was still there. She was waiting for his brother to come back. For his brother, who may possibly never come back again.

“Orba, where are you going? Orba!”

As Alice’s voice called out behind him, he pushed the crowd aside and headed back in a hurry.

And when he managed to arrive at his destination, there wasn’t a single soul, the village had become as silent as death. Because he was familiar with the scenery, there was an eeriness as if he had wandered into another dimension instead.

From the other side of the valley, he could see a group of men and horses approaching, and Orba ran towards his house in a hurry. When he opened the back door, his mother was there. She was trying to prepare a meal as usual.

“Roan?” his mother said, turning around, but when her eyes fixed on Orba’s sweaty figure, she, miraculously, shrugged her shoulders. “Were you still playing, Orba? Just help me out a little, your brother will be coming home soon.”

Outside, sounds could slightly be heard of the voices of soldiers, chasing the animals that were left behind. Afraid of the smoke rising up, he hurriedly tried to stop his mother. However,

“What’s this, there’s nothing!”

“What a measly village. Even though those guys at Gascon had it better. It seemed they slept with all of the girls.”

“Isn’t there at least any alcohol? Go and look!”

As soon as he thought he heard those voices coming closer, the door was violently kicked down.

Three soldiers came in noisily, each of them equipped with a simple chainmail, lance, and sword. On their faces, blackened by dust clouds, only the eyes casted a unique white light.

“Oh, there’s a woman!”

“What, isn’t she too old? Besides, isn’t there any alcohol? Or something to eat?”

After staring at his mother, who was protectively holding the crouched Orba in her hands, they started vandalizing the house, doing as they pleased. Orba was crouching down completely, concealing his breath like a herbivore trying not to attract the attention of wild beasts.

When the Garberan soldiers smashed through the door, his eyes had caught sight of the wooden sword, which had been resting against it, rolling over the floor. But in the end, it was nothing more than a child’s toy. He hated being told that more than anything, and was more than eager to stare back at those kind of people, but now he understood it painfully.

Then, as the soldiers were ransacking through to the shelves, they grabbed the crude ceramic tableware from inside and carelessly tossed them aside. Making a loud sound, the broken pieces scattered over the floor. It took Orba by surprise, as they were the things his brother Roan used, and his mother, who had been submissive until now, rose up with such force that Orba got pushed aside. From there, she started clinging onto one of the soldiers’ back.

“Hey, what? What?”

“It looks like she wants to play with me!”

A red-faced soldier unwrapped his mother, turned her around, and pushed her down in place. He placed his hand in front of her mouth when she tried to raise a piercing cry, then took out a pointed knife hidden inside his chainmail, and thrust it before his mother’s pale face.

“Stop it, you’d take any woman, wouldn’t you?”

“The taste of a young lass is nice, but an old flower like her ain’t bad either.”

As he spoke his red face showed a vulgar smile, and the thread holding Orba’s tensed up feelings snapped. Raising an awkward cry, he charged in. It was a desperate assault, however, and he was easily blown back by a single arm.

Knocking the back of his head against the shelves, although stunned for a moment, Orba gnashed his teeth and immediately faced forward again. And, from the top of the shelf, there was something that fell down with a loud crash. It was something long and narrow wrapped in a bundle and, with the front part of it torn, it was emitting a silver shine before Orba’s eyes.

''This is…''

Hiding it by reflex, Orba hurriedly tore apart the bundle. As he’d expected, it was a shortsword about sixty centimetres long. The round pommel had Mephian-made characteristics. Matching its slender blade, the handle was also a little thin, fitting nicely into a child’s hand.

As he took a hold of it, several letters carved into the blade jumped into his eyes.

''O, R, B, A...''

It was only for an instant – with his mother’s screams, the sound of the red-faced soldier disorderedly throwing off his chainmail, and the noise of the soldiers laying waste to the house. Although the frightening surge of black blood boiled in his body, he drove it far away and, in that instant, the thoughts squeezed together guided him to an explanation.

The blade was engraved only with ‘Orba’. Of course, he hadn’t known such a thing was in his house. He didn’t think his mother or other acquaintances would’ve especially prepared it for him. For all he knew, couldn’t this be anything but a present from his brother Roan?

But Roan should’ve handed over the money he got for his services to his mother. Besides, a blade like this could not be purchased in ordinary towns. Most likely, after going to Apta Fortress, he got provided with weapons as a soldier, and he’d asked the blacksmith stationed at the fort to engrave his name.

And then, he left it with the caravan that went circled the fortress and the towns. But when it came to his house, his mother must have accepted it. Thinking, afterwards, that it shouldn’t be crossed over into Orba’s hands, she most likely intended to keep it from her son’s sight. She probably thought that it was too dangerous for Orba, or maybe she was afraid that Orba would go away like Roan if he had a sword in hand.

At any rate…

“Hey, what’s that you’re holding?” a soldier called out from Orba’s crouched back. “It looks like you’re holding something valuable. Hey, why don’t you show me?”

“This is mine!”

“That’s not for you decide, but for me. Now, give it here.”

The soldier ridiculing Orba put a hand on his shoulder trying to get him out of the way with force. It was more than enough.

''That’s right, Orba'', he responded to his own inner voice.

“I said, show me — gyahh!”

Turning around, Orba swung his sword downward. With blood spraying from the man’s shoulder, Orba slipped under the staggered soldier’s arm and raced towards the man who was bent over his mother.

The red-faced man tore his eyes away from his mother and jumped back. Quickly picking up his hand-axe, he then received Orba’s blow that was coming at him. Orba stood firm on both his legs and somehow tried to get his sword through, but still, the blade was short, and a child’s strength couldn’t push a hand-axe aside like that. However, instead of easily getting overmatched, Orba made himself fall to the side.

“That brat…”

He swung down another blow with murderous intent. Orba rolled over to the side. After doing one rotation, the axe’s edge bit down there, right in front of his eyes. In that very instant, his blood froze up,

“Stop!”

His mother was clinging onto the red-faced man’s feet. Flying into a rage, the man kicked at her hands, turned around, and raised his axe even higher. When Orba saw it, the tension of his black blood – the anxiety, irritation, rage and other various emotions that had simmering in the boy’s body for such a long time – was about to be released from one single point, as if it had only now taken its final shape.

He stood up. Holding his sword with both hands, he forced it under his arm and slammed it, along with the rest of his body, into the soldier’s defenceless back.

The man’s back, as he’d taken off his armour, first received the blade considerably easy. Then there was a little firm resistance, but it also went through smoothly as Orba’s pushed it through with both hands, until, in the blink of an eye, the point of his sword finally pierced through the man’s chest.

Because Orba was also being dragged while the red-faced man staggered, he hurriedly let go of the sword. The man clashed with his back against the wall. After turning around to face the triumphant Orba, he made his mouth flap open and close, probably trying to say some sort of grudge, and threw up a huge amount of blood as he sank to the floor, until his bright red tongue drooped out and he no longer moved.

“You bastard!” the soldier who had his shoulder cut shouted, grimacing in pain.

“You killed Douga. You lowly brat.”

The other also shouted in a loud voice, and came rushing over at Orba. No longer holding a sword, Orba received a full body blow and rolled over on the floor again. He got kicked in the stomach, and stepped on his back.

“Mother and child both, I’ll hang your heads under the eaves.”

Crawling on all fours, the tip of the sword was thrust before the nape of Orba’s neck. His mother too, was lifted up, twisted by the hand, and placed in the same position next to Orba. No matter how much he wrested his body with all his strength, he couldn’t get rid of the weight of the man standing on his back.

“Let me go!”

“Ahh, right away. After you’ve turned into a corpse, that is!”

Orba, raising a bestial cry, was suddenly hovering in the moment that came between life and death. With a whishing sound of wind being cut as it was brought straight down. Finally, he shouted out his brother Roan’s name, when,

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, the wind-cutting sound ceased. Orba, scrambled thoughts mulling in his head, realized it wasn’t his brother who’d appeared though.

The one who had newly come inside the house, was a Garberan soldier after all. However, unlike the soldiers that had broken in, he was armed all over his body, with not a single part untouched, and his armour too was shining in silver. He still had a young face.

For a short time the soldiers could be seen flinching from the intruder, but then,

“It is as you can see, Knight Apprentice Sir.”

“We’ve come to receive our fair reward after winning the battle. Just because you stood in distinguished service for a while, you’re clad as a knight after all, surely you haven’t come to stop such unrefined things like these, right?” the two explained grimly.

Feigning a courteous manner, there was clearly an air that they were making light of the man.

“Besides, look. Our comrade was killed. There’s no way soldiers with Garberan pride can let this go by without getting vengeance, right?”

The soldier who spoke tipped Orba’s body over at his foot, and established the sword’s aim with his other hand. What Orba’s eyes saw as he looked up at the ceiling, was the point of the sword, but then a single string of light came flashing from the side.

“What are you doing!”

“How pitiable. Vengeance, is it? You mean to say there’s any pride in that against a child?”

The armoured youth had drawn his sword. It seemed like the man had felled that one soldier, for Orba realized the sword that should’ve pierced through his heart had somehow been repelled the to the side. The other roared something in a hoarse voice nearby. It sounded like he’d called out the armoured man’s name, but Orba didn’t catch it at the time.

“Y-Your comrade… how dare you, bastard!”

“I don’t want to be called a comrade or such by inferior people like you.”

As he thrust out the blooded tip of his sword, the soldier stepped back.

“Inferior, you say? Even though you’ve got the same history. Just because you were blessed with the opportunity to make a distinguished service, you get carried away. Always chanting, knight, knight as if it’s your favourite word, but did you become a real knight? You don’t share a bloodline with the Garberan royal family, you’ll be an ‘apprentice’ your whole life. Know your place!”

Soon, the solider who seemed to be stepping back, quickly pulled something out from behind his back and brought it in front of him. It was a crossbow, fixed with a long and slender pedestal, and he released the trigger.

That instant, the armoured youth nimbly turned aside. Making a single spin, as if dancing, he narrowly avoided the arrow and decapitated the soldier’s head. There wasn’t the slightest hesitation. The decapitated head whirled through the air, struck the house’s wall and rolled over the floor.

“Garbera is a country of knights. Instead of further defiling its name, receive the honour of being killed in action.”

His handsome looks, his way of fighting, and those words he murmured – it was all as if a hero had emerged from the books Orba read all the time.

“Commander, what’s the commotion!?”

A voice was raised from the outside, but he replied with “It’s nothing,” as he wiped the blood from his sword.

“You’re a child of Mephius?”

Orba didn’t immediately know what was good answer to the question raised. It was not that he was especially conscious of the name of the country called Mephius, either. The people of Orba’s village, generally living in a world of only about ten kilometres surrounding the village, weren’t very interested in the country or its territorial disputes.

The man gave Orba a thin smile when he gave no answer, and glanced over at the soldier who’d sunk in a puddle of blood. Orba, his body suddenly freezing up, tightly held onto his mother’s shoulders. He started looking if there was any weapon within reach, when,

“Hurry and get away from here,” the young man said. “It was to protect your mother – right? You truly hold the spirit of a knight inside of you. Much more than the people of Garbera, who seem to have forgotten all about the knight’s way. Now, you may get out of here. I’ll try to stop the plunder and assaults as much as possible, but I can’t catch a hold on all of them.”

Those eyes, for some reason, resembled those of his brother Roan. Supporting the shoulder of his sobbing mother, Orba slowly faced the back door, then, pulling his mother by the hand, he ran away at full speed. A wintry wind blowing through the streets after sunset, struck his cheeks. Urging his mother, who kept muttering ‘Roan, Roan’, sometimes even shouting at her, they finally united with Alice and the village people after an hour.

After that, they followed behind Alice’s father and headed for a village that was fifteen kilometres upriver to the north.

Orba didn’t know if the young armoured man had been true to his words, but at least from there on the random plundering was no longer carried out around Apta, which later became the territory of Garbera.

However, the flames were still approaching the village that Orba and the rest had succeeded in running away to earlier.

There were hardly any signs. Suddenly, ‘they’ came at them in full force and immediately started plundering. They were men who were completely harnessed in black. Provisions, clothes, and of course money and goods, all the things of possible value were taken by force. The people, too, were no exception. As soon as they arrived at the village they took the women, and impaled any man who tried to resist with spears from atop their horses, decapitated their heads with swords, and exposed them to gunfire.

Amidst all of the confusion, Orba lost sight of his mother. Just when he stumbled forward with impatience and fright,

“Alice!”

He spotted Alice getting bound by a soldier with her arms behind her back. Even though she was about to be dragged away, Alice was still screaming at him to run away. Completely losing himself, Orba leapt forward. The feeling of killing that one person still remained in his hands. And now he’d decided to do the same thing. He reached out his hand for the sword the soldier was carrying.

But, the moment he took a hold of the handle, he received a strong blow to the back of his head. The sight flickered before his eyes, and his consciousness was soon about to fade. Just before it did, he had a feeling he heard Alice’s voice calling out his name.

When he came to, Orba was lying on his back, spread-eagled, on the ground. His head was throbbing painfully. His consciousness was still a little dim, and he wasn’t even sure if he was dreaming or not.

“General Oubary , what do you want to do?”

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard that voice. Amongst the screams of men and women nearby, and firing in the distance, Orba secretly peeked through half-opened eyes at the one who had been called out to earlier.

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 069.jpg|thumb]]
It was a man atop a horse, holding a bottle of liquor which he’d most likely stolen. He was lightly and stylishly dressed in armour, bald, and had the majestic air of a giant. Even though he had such an serious appearance, there was violet lipstick on his thin lips, giving the elevated, sneering figure a strange kind of look.

“If all the valuables are gone, set fire to the lot. Leave not a single grain of wheat behind for Garbera.”

Saying those words, the man called general threw away his bottle of wine. It splashed against Orba’s cheeks.

“Very well, this village was burned by Garbera. Let the soldiers be thorough. They can have the women, but kill them when they’re done with them. Don’t even sell them off. You will supervise.”

Shortly after that, the screams and shouts died out. Instead, a hot wind roasted his skin, and an acrid stench started filling the air. When he finally managed to stand up, his surroundings had turned into a sea of flames.

There wasn’t a single person left alive. Orba roamed about the village, calling his mother and Alice’s name in a loud voice, while brushing away sparks of fire at his hands. But the only things that came into his sight were the slaughtered bodies of the village people. The bodies of the elderly, women, and children.

''That Oubary…''

With the place scorched all over, Orba’s whole body had become dark red with the blood and soot falling from overhead.

''Isn’t that Oubary… Apta Fortress’s…''

He remembered hearing about it. When the fortress had urgently been recruiting soldiers, he was sure the military men that appeared in the village had spoken the name. He was the veteran general who had been entrusted with the protection of the fort.

So that meant this had been the Mephian army. After the fortress fell, the troops including Oubary went north, ahead of Garbera’s pursuing troops, and burned down the village where Orba and the others had escaped to earlier. And they’d taken all spoils of wars before going back to the capital, so that Garbera couldn’t make use of it.

''I’ll kill them'', Orba vowed.

Mustering up the strength from somewhere in his body, although there had not even been one drop left behind earlier, the power that kept him going forward, it came from his unrelenting vow with the intent to kill.

Although he had no clear answers on whether to kill Oubary, the Garberan soldiers, or the Emperor, and on how to achieve those ends, for now, he just kept on walking.

<noinclude>

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
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|-
| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter1

2013-05-22T01:42:28Z

Kiydon:

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter1

2013-05-22T01:36:52Z

Kiydon:

==Chapter 1: Iron and Blood==

=== Part 1 ===

The outcome was decided.

The amphitheatre of Ba Roux shook. The many spectators that were crowded together unanimously shouted out the victor’s name and stamped their feet, creating a racket that sounded much like a tidal wave.

While the winner was being bathed in the passionate and boisterous cheers, the one who had received the opposite fate lay motionless beside his feet. Eventually, the loser’s headless body was struck with a hook and dragged away by the hands of two slaves.

The sun was still glaring even though it was near evening. The spectators’ faces were covered with sweat and glittered brightly, as if someone smeared them with oil, and their eyes, too, were sparkling with bloodlust, as they anticipated the next fight to be yet another battle to the death. Whoever just won or lost didn’t stay on their minds for long. It was only the heat of battle that left an everlasting taste, stood in the air, and kept whirling around the arena.

“Go, go!”

“Do it, kill!”

Today was another success.Because the more virtuous people living in the city, for whom the admission fees were no more than about a child’s weekly allowance, were able to watch the games, over a thousand spectators were gathered.

The next match was a cavalry battle. Both men were armed with spears, emerging from the east and west gates, and crossed each other at great speeds. At the second charge, one of the men got flung off of his mount and, as he scrambled to get up again, the other swiftly jumped off his own horse to give the finishing blow.

Up next were two barely clothed men, who started to grapple each other with their bare hands.

They were sword-slaves, or so-called gladiators. In compensation for doing these public, life-threatening battles, these people were granted a few days of their lives and the minimum amount of food required to get by. Some of them were already born as slaves, some had been thrown into the arena for committing crimes, and there were even those who had personally applied to cast themselves into this living hell.

But if gladiators got well-known enough to become veterans, they received a different kind of popularity from the crowd. One of them, named Shique, was a handsome gladiator who was popular among women and had just won the brawling match. He was strangely pretentious, bowing in a way much like a nobleman would, and notably, shrill voices rose from the crowd.

“Did you see that, brother? Shique just won!”
<ref> She actually calls him お義兄様 ‘ogikei-sama’, which, in this case, means he’s her step-brother. However, she pronounces it as ‘onii-sama’.</ref>

It was the voice of a girl yet in the more tender years of age, who was sitting in one of the grandstands among the front row seats. High pillars, which rose from the corners in the left and right, supported a roof that covered the stand. Only those who were able to pay a large sum of money were able to view the match from these special seats.

From the looks of it, the young man resting his chin on his hands next to her, whom she called ‘brother’, seemed to be dissatisfied. With a long cloth wrapped around his head, the ends dangling from both the left and right just like a believer of Badyne, it looked like he was concealing his face from the glances of people around him.

“Ahh, it is as you say,” he said. “The gladiator you had your eye on won. Now, isn’t that enough? Can we hurry and get something to eat? This place is giving me a headache.”

"But it is only beginning, is it not? Did the smell of blood sicken you? You, the successor of the lands of Mephius?"

“Watch your mouth.”

Not at all worried about the youth’s clear jumpiness, the girl gave a fickle laugh.

The next fight had already started, so the young man was forced to stay after all and rested his cheeks on his hands again with a bitter look on his face. How much blood had to be splattered around, and how many sweaty muscles did she have to see before getting tired of it?

He occasionally stole a sidelong glance at the young girl’s white skin and beautiful face. She had an innocence that matched her age, but a strange sensual and mature beauty as well – it was a view much more charming than that of the savage fight below.

Then, after about two battles, a new stage was being set in the arena. One huge stake got established in the centre, and a single woman was fastened to the top. She was a beautiful woman. Purposely made to wear torn clothes, each time she writhed in pain, her breasts and thighs swayed about while whistles came from the heated male audience.

However, the woman was in no position to be bothered with their obscene looks, for at the same time the stake got put up, a big cage with approximately the same height was being carried in.

Inside was a raging beast that was roughly seven or eight metres long. Its slimy, green scales were flickering in the sunlight. It was a large dragon. Bred through repeated selective breeding by humans, it was of a variety called ‘Sozos’ that Mephius also used in wars.

Its clenched, humongous teeth, and each of its claws extending from six legs, were just like sharp swords. Probably because it was drugged, it seemed to have a somewhat repressed ferociousness and dulled instincts, but being hit by that bulk would nevertheless cause serious injuries, and it looked like it could blow away the steel cage like a toy.

“Now then! Gathered ladies and gentlemen!”

Suddenly an orator standing on an elevation began to speak over a loudspeaker, eager to finish his speech before the beast broke out.

“Next, is the start of our programme. Once, the great dragons that established our culture roamed on the earth’s surface, but they were just the same as the bloodthirsty beast we look down upon now. There is no need to fear. We are the brave souls, the purest of minds, that took over from an era of space voyage. Not even by the dragon’s tusks and claws – not to mention its fearsome, terrible breath! – will we be outdone. Please, take a look at the evidence. Behold the figures of these brave men who challenge this dragon of old, this beast of a terrifying false god!”

From the eastern gate, a single gladiator stepped forward. In the man’s hands, who sported a muscular body, was an iron ball connected to a chain.

“Ballchain Verne!”

The audience’s cheers became even louder, for he was a gladiator could pride himself in being one of the most famous fighters in Ba Roux. The man was about in his mid-thirties with dark skin, and he responded by waving a hand to the ladies and gentlemen in the audience. Then,

“It’s the Tiger!”

“Look, Iron Tiger Orba!”

A swordsman, also alone, walked out, but from the western gate.

"How eccentric," the young man commented on the steel blue mask that was covering gladiator’s face. As if imitating a tiger, small fangs protruded up from the lips, leaving only a small space for the mouth of this man named Orba underneath. Cut out into two splits were openings where the tiger’s eyes would’ve been, but naturally it was only Orba’s eyes peeking through. And, despite a tiger normally having rounded ears, the mask had pointed ends at both sides instead – it was almost as if horns were coming out from the corners.

However, that was all; he had no other outstanding character features. In comparison with Verne, he had an almost feeble body build, and he only held a simple, common longsword in his hand.

The spectators started ridiculing him, saying,

“Look at his thin body. Just one hit of the ballchain will completely smash him up!”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 022.jpg|thumb]]

“They say he took off Meier the Baron’s head at the Arena of Tidan after only two strikes. Let’s see him do the same to our Verne. Go on then!”

“This Iron Tiger Orba,” the girl said, as her cheeks blushed with excitement. “Isn’t this his first appearance in Ba Roux? But he seems to be famous. Do you know of him, brother?”

“How should I know?”

“My, what a cold reply. Fine, if you’re so bored with being here, why don’t we have a little bet on this game? Maybe it’ll end up getting you a little interested.”

“A wager, is it? For what, and how?”

“Simple. Of those two about to fight, who do you expect to win?”

“That’s stupid. How’s that even a bet? Even I know the name of that Verne guy. And his physique is way better. Even an amateur can see that. You're just trying to rip me off, betting on the clear victor yourself, aren't you?”

“My, you’re a difficult customer! But that’s fine. You can just sulk away like that as long as you like. And I even thought of bringing you along so you could have a little distraction. But I got it, I understand – you hate spending time with Ineli. If that’s the case, I will never invite you again, don’t worry!”

The girl stiffly turned away her face, as the young man panickingly stopped resting his chin on his hands.

“W-Wait. I was wrong,” he said. “I’ll bet on that masked swordsman. That’s what you want, right?”

“No. Ineli decided to bet on that swordsman first. You can take Ballchain Verne, brother.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because I like him.”

''Even though you can't see his face?'' – was what the young man was about to say, but he stopped himself in time. He couldn’t afford to displease her even more.

“Now then,” the orator said, raising his voice again. “Will Orba or will Verne take up the role of the hero and set that woman free? Or will these rivals be fighting in vain, as the cage breaks and this poor, beautiful lady ends up in the dragon’s stomach?”

From there on, the two swordsmen would battle, and the winner would rescue the woman – or, as the orator stated, ‘a certain third daughter from a ruined country’ – from the dragon’s clutches, and also earn a night of love-making. Or so the scene was set out to be.

The two men both stepped forward at the same time. As they approached each other, the lack in Orba’s physique became all the more apparent. Verne spoke in a voice that could be heard by those in the front row seats.

“So, you call yourself a tiger, huh? I’ve heard your name. But, there’s nothing more unreliable than a rumour. You can try to hide your face, but I can see the skin underneath. You’re still young, just a kid.”

Ballchain Verne’s thick lips, in proportion to the rest of him, bended into a smile.

“I’m sure the mask is just a bluff so people won’t make fun of you. You’re not a tiger, you’re just a mangy cur! I’ll teach you what a real man’s battle truly is all about!”

Facing Verne, who was loudly laughing at his shoulders, Orba didn’t reply. Probably assuming his nerves were blown away, Verne gave a sneering look, took up a defensive stance, and slung the ballchain over his shoulder.


“Start!”

There was a pointed signalling voice, but it halfway disappeared into the further increasing sound of the audience’s cheers. In an instant, Verne made his move.

He wielded the iron ballchain with all his strength. At first, the masked swordsman was about to rush in, but, as if panicked by his sheer force, he quickly stepped back. There was a small spark as the iron ball chafed against the mask. It was enough for Verne to take pursuit of the stumbling Orba. The huge iron ball, which was much larger than a human head, approached with the howling of the wind, and Orba continued to avoid it by stepping back.

He rolled over the ground, excessively jumped aside, and finally bustled about by making an evasive gesture – which invited laughter from the spectators.

“Look at that, it seems the swordsman you like can’t get out of a tight spot,” the same young man said. “Or could it be that this fight isn't so fair and square?”

“You think?” the girl said, looking straight ahead as she put a finger to her plump and florid lips. “If that’s so, then why hasn’t the match ended yet?”

“That’s because his opponent keeps pitifully running from place to place.”

“I wonder why Verne can’t corner an opponent who so clumsily keeps running away.”

The young man wanted to say something in return but kept his mouth shut. As he watched, he noticed that Orba wasn’t outright retreating, but kept circling around his opponent while maintaining a fixed distance. And it looked like Verne was no longer able to attack and pursue his opponent so hastily either.

Probably because he lost his temper, Verne put all of his strength into tossing another blow. The iron ball flew past Orba’s shoulder and – although it seemed obvious to the bystanders that this was like a golden opportunity – he only returned a slight thrust with his sword, while once again taking his distance.

“Get serious!”

“Stop messing around!”

The audience stopped laughing and started jeering down at the arena. Not only at Orba, but also at Verne who didn’t seem able to take down his constantly fleeing opponent.

“You bastard!” Verne howled.

When he tried to rush at Orba diagonally, the girl suddenly raised her voice, “Ah!”, in surprise.

Orba, who had until now only retreated backwards, suddenly started to pitch forward. Stopping in his tracks, Verne, too, took the opportunity to strike another blow.

Orba tilted his body wide to the right, avoiding the iron ball and, as he rotated on his left toe, flashed his sword in a diagonal uppercut. The moment the chain got cut apart, a strange, clear sound echoed throughout the arena, then Orba twisted his body again and swung his sword downward with the force of a thunderbolt.

Verne’s cranium was split in two and the giant collapsed soon after.

“M-Magnificent!” the orator cried.

However, because it had happened so swiftly and came with such an unexpected conclusion, the audience was looking rather flabbergasted. Although the awkward silence wrapped around the arena, the victor didn’t seem to care either way and headed up to the stake, and, borrowing the hands of a number of slaves to lift it from the ground, used his sword to cut the ropes that kept the woman bound.

With a shout of delight, she joyfully clung onto his neck, only to be pushed away with a confused look on her face as Orba immediately started to return to his gate.

The girl in the special seat – she had also been staring agape at the sudden fall of the curtain – slowly began to form her lips into a smile. That gladiator named Orba didn’t seem aware of the audience at all. As if stating the only reason he was here today was to fight, and to kill as he was told.

“He… took out Verne.”

“With one blow.”

After that moment of silence, voices praising Orba began to raise little by little. Now that the mood had grown uneasy for the visitors, slowly the clapping of hands, the awkward stamping of feet, and cheers appropriate for a victor started to fill the stands. Then, almost at the instant the arena had returned to the state it was supposed to be in, the air shook heavily.

It was the roar of the Sozos Dragon.

It might have been the drug wearing off, or an instinctive reaction to the smell of blood, but all of a sudden it started swaying its enormous body from right to left, shattering a portion of its cage. One of the slaves who’d been in the process of towing everything away, was caught and raised from the head by the dragon’s claw. Before he could resist, his torso disappeared into the Sozos’s mouth.

There was the sound of breaking bones. And at the same time as the awful sound of salivated chewing could be heard, the arena grounds were suddenly filled with screams. In the midst of all the fear and panic that rapidly swept over the area, the Sozos rather calmly stretched out its limbs further and emerged from the broken cage.

Being pulled along into the crowd that strived to be the first to escape, the young man from earlier almost fell to the floor. But then, he was pulled along by a hand from the side.

“This way. Hurry!”

It was one of the soldiers who’d been guarding the special seats. As he rattled around with a sword and gun, he tried to bring the young man back inside.

“W-Wait. Ineli’s…”

Although he tried to resist, he couldn’t move freely as he kept being jostled by the crowd of people trying to escape. Then, he heard a suspiciously familiar, high-pitched scream. Right in front of the Sozos’s forepaws beyond the dividing wall, was a figure that belonged to no one other than Ineli. The girl had turned a pale colour as she had tumbled over from the gallery, and it looked like she was about to lose consciousness any minute.

The dragon’s long snout opened from top to bottom. As the rows of tusks, similar to sharp pointed swords, opened up, they formed long threads of slaver. The young man was about to involuntarily avert his eyes, when a thin streak of blood spouted from the Sozos’s neck. The gladiator arena’s employed guards had rushed in with guns. However, because they were close to the seats, they could only shoot at point-blank range, and from the way they stood, they hardly had the nerve. While they were conflicted at what to do while it approached, the Sozos turned around quickly and hit them with a single blow of its tail, fully sending several people flying.

The girl had sank down to the floor, her eyes opened wide looking at her surroundings.

Then, from those eyes, she saw.

There was a shadow that ran past the Sozos’s flank like a gust of wind. Just before it came up against the brick wall that divided the seats from the ring, the shadow kicked against it and soared up into the air. A man with a tiger-imitating iron mask jumped into the girl’s sight, the figure of Orba the gladiator landing on top of the Sozos’s head.

Even though she had just witnessed him running up to the Sozos from behind while the dragon was distracted by bullets, she couldn’t suddenly believe it.

Despite Orba’s slim body, his joints and muscles seemed to fortify his arms like steel as he grabbed a firm hold of the dragon’s neck. While further sandwiching its neck between his legs, he held on tight with one arm and, with his other, brought his sword down into the head.

It swung its long tail around, rocked the ground by stamping its feet, but the dragon still struggled, not able to shake off the gladiator, as it shook off a second and a third attack tearing through scales that were equal to an iron armour, and flesh and blood got splattered around. However, although the sword broke when it came to the fourth attack, at that time the other gladiators rushed in.

“Orba!”

Receiving a thrown sword from a brown-skinned swordsman, Orba once again raised it for a fifth attack, following the exact same process as earlier, until he fully caved the middle of the blade into the crown of the dragon’s head.

Its golden eyes goggled longingly at the skies. Just before its huge body sunk from the neck, the swordsman had swooped down next to the guest seats.

The girl, still kneeling on the floor, was looking up at him. It was almost as if he came from a tale, for she felt like a princess caught by an evil wizard, and although she fixed her eyes on him with a throbbing heart, of all things, the would-be-hero gladiator continued his walk, completely ignoring her, and nimbly jumped off the dividing wall and back into the ring.

There was still a cloud of chaotic fear hanging over the arena as he showed her his back and took his leave, but rather than drifting the air of a victor, he looked more like a solitary figure that could hardly endure the stares on him.

“A-Are you okay?”

She turned her eyes to the young man she had brought with her, who came running up to her with bated breath, and suddenly got an odd sensation. She had only seen it with a passing glance earlier, but the eyes underneath that swordsman’s mask seemed to closely resemble those of the young man.

And there was yet another man who focused a long look at Orba’s back, surprised for another reason.

“No way, he is alive.”

He wiped the sweat from his slightly slacking chin with the back of his hand. Standing behind the young man’s back - he was also one of the men who’d been at the special seats - he was speaking to himself in wonder as the unique smell of blood drifted about.

“Orba was his name? Two years... Two entire years, huh.”

=== Part 2 ===

“Two years.”

The gladiator, Orba, staring down the lurking darkness, suddenly murmured those words in his mouth.
Although only ‘two years’, in this line of work, it had been full of hardships, blood, and corpses. How many times had he struggled for his life, only to have both his feet chained at the end, spend the night in the slave pens, where his only pastime was to train all morning in order to keep living as a sword-slave? And then there’s another fight.

No one, except Orba, expected him to be able to live through more than five battles. Two years ago, when Orba first set foot in the arena, he’d still been fourteen years old. His body had been even thinner than it was now, and he’d hardly been able to handle the weapons.

However, at the moment of truth, he’d survived. He brandished the weapon held in his hands, chosen from one of the few weapons he was able to wield, to the limits of his power. He only knew how to fight by recklessly charging in. As he gained experience, his skill, the thickness of each of his muscle fibres, the mastery of new weapons, as well as the opponent’s corpses he stepped over, increased every time he emerged from another fight.

And so, two years passed. Orba didn’t know whether that was a long or a short time. Sometimes, he thought he was a considerably old person, but he also felt like a youngster at times who still didn’t know anything at all about battles.

Anyway, maybe it simply had to do with the fact, that he had not been blessed with the opportunity to see his own face. Lying face up, he was still wearing the same iron mask he wore in the battle ring. Because it had never been removed those two years, the other sword-slaves belonging to the same Tarkas Gladiatorial Group had no way of knowing his true face.

“Get up, slaves! You hate wakin’ up? Then get ready for your worst day yet!”

When morning came, another day for the slaves began. The one in charge of training the sword-slaves, and the slaves’ main supervisor, was Gowen, who drove everyone from their bedrooms and made them start cleaning the accommodations.

When that was finished, taking care of the lions, serpents, boars, tigers and the like – the animals that were used in the arena – was waiting. In particular, taking care of the dragons was hard work. Even taking care of the small- and medium-sized dragons was too much for a single person to handle, but taking care of the large-sized Sozos dragons was far worse. While it was expected for slaves to die by the sword, many had also been crushed underfoot by these dragons that were purposefully trained not to grow accustomed to humans.

Orba set foot in the vast dragon’s abode, which was much larger than the slaves’ dwellings – far from it – and resembled a castle courtyard, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed the back of a woman.

She was Hou Ran. One of the other slaves ordered to feed the dragons, she was directly touching the dragons’ scales. Of course, the dragons’ legs and necks were wrapped in chains, as it was not necessary to carry out yesterday’s example, but that was by no means an absolute guarantee. At a distance that would even cause a gladiator to hesitate, greeting each dragon one by one, she gently touched their scales with her fingers.

“Orba.”

Calling out his name, she quickly turned around.

“So I’ve been found out.”

“I’ve been told by the ‘voice’ of the dragons.”

Ran smiled. She seemed truly unsuitable in an all-men, not to mention savage, sword-slave detention camp, and Orba still hadn’t gotten used to her defenceless smile.

Her skin like polished ebony, combined with hair that seemed to have turned pale, gave off a mysterious charm. Originating from the Dragon God worshipping nomads that roamed in the western mountains of Mephius, despite her primarily reclusive kin, Ran had exceptionally been brimming with curiosity, secretly boarded one of her tribe’s caravan wagons and came over to the outside world. Because she never told him exactly what had happened after that, he did not know when Tarkas hired her, and how she could take care of the dragons single-handedly like this.

“Do these guys know my name?”

“Their ‘voices’ come like images into my head. They all know your face, Orba. You’re liked by the dragons.”

While it appeared idiotic, in fact, it seemed like her pupils, clearly giving the impression of being deep under the sea, held some kind of intelligence lost to civilized men. From the other side of the fence, the small-type dragons were poking out their snouts and snapping at him.

“It doesn’t look that way,” Orba said with a thin smile.

At the time Orba turned up two years ago, Hou Ran was already at the detention camp. Back then, although she didn’t make direct eye contact with the others employed by Tarkas, she didn’t even open her mouth to him.

Whether there were difficulties with Ran seeing his true face through her eyes, or listening with her voice, soon became the target of bets among the sword slaves short of entertainment.*

But, one time, Ran was about to be roughed up by a new sword-slave who’d recently come into the camp. Orba just happened to pass by and had beaten him up, and ever since then Ran had at least been able to speak to him a bit.

“I heard you were attacked by a Sozos at Ba Roux.”

“''I'' was the one who attacked the Sozos,” he emphasized. “It suddenly started getting violent.”

“Even with drugs, it’s useless to imprison its heart by force. If I had been the one supervising it, such a thing would have never happened.”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 035.jpg|thumb]]

She bit her lips, but it was not because she was concerned about Orba or the visitors. With the figure of a girl patting the nape of a medium-sized Baian dragon in the corner of his eye, Orba finished his own work and left the dragon’s abode behind him.

After feeding the animals and cleaning was done, it was time to tend to their weapons. Because they left their own lives in their care, they carefully did them one by one. Whenever they handled weapons, about ten guards in full armour acted as supervisors. Naturally, they were there to make sure none of the sword-slaves tried to revolt.

Then, after being excused for a meal of bread and soup – the survivors of yesterday’s gladiator matches were treated meat and fruit as a reward – they each began their training at the start of noon. Just like when they’d been tending the weapons, there were armed soldiers on the lookout, but this time, the chains that connected both feet were taken off.

Sword-slaves that lasted over two years like Orba were extremely rare. Lives were lost one after another, and new faces always appeared again on the next day. Gowen tirelessly taught them the step work of how to hold a sword or how to handle a gun, and trained them thoroughly until they were fully prepared.

Orba also had some of the newcomers as opponents. Sometimes they clashed swords, just like in an actual fight, and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to part with a limb or lose his life in the midst of training..

Today, there weren’t any casualties. But that did not have to mean they were lucky. The next day may hold an even more miserable fate, and grislier deaths may be awaiting for these gladiators.

When all the faces of the sword-slaves had turned dark, their skin wet with sweat and covered in dust, , Orba moved to the fence separating the training grounds from an aisle on the other side, and caught sight of Tarkas’s figure.

Saying “At ease!” at the newcomer, Orba rushed up towards him.

Also noticing the masked man, Tarkas stopped in his tracks. There was a feeling of distrust slipping through his sagged cheeks.

“What is it, Iron Tiger? Ahh… good job yesterday.” He had a look on his face as if he just now remembered he forgot to feed his pet dog. “Verne was quickly becoming a well-known gladiator. The other gladiator troupe started talking about wanting to pit him against you. ‘Can’t we earn back all the money we invested in Verne that way?’ – don’t try that sarcastic bullshit on me. Well, I suppose I feel a bit grateful as well. And killing that Sozos—”

“Tarkas, how much longer do I have to continue winning?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s been two years already. I’ve kept winning all the time. How many times do I have to be the ‘main event’ like yesterday. Isn’t it about time you take these chains off of my feet?”

Sword-slaves, all of them, were each exchanged on a contract when bought by a merchant. Although Tarkas it seemed to handle it quite vaguely.

“Don’t think I can’t read. Even a slave should have the right to look into my contract. I’ve been waiting here, Tarkas. I should’ve been allowed to leave a long time ago.”

As Orba spoke right in front of him, Tarkas sharply put a squinting look in his eyes.

“So, where do you plan to go? Surely you can be released from my hands, but you’ll still be a criminal. You don’t have the money to pay off your remaining prison term. Or maybe you want to work in the Shaga Mines along the western border? Poisonous gases, wild man-eating beasts, human-hunting Geblin tribes, and – of course – extremely miserable and rigorous labour. If it’s the same hell, or if you think you may have it better off here, hurry up and get back to your training. And don’t ever speak to me like an equal, until you’ve become a full-fledged swordsman that earns his pay.”

Thrusting his thick finger in Orba’s face, Tarkas quickly took his leave, heading for his office. Behind him, unfamiliar faces followed suit. Considering this was a place where legs were tied up in chains, they were probably newly procured slaves.

Orba was silent. His eyes were teeming with rage however, but Tarkas’s words weren’t lies either. Concerning Mephian law, you can basically either sell your life or go to prison.* Like the Mines of Shaga that Tarkas spoke of – should he apply for the country’s public service, accompanied by dangers, and sell himself off as a slave there?

Grasping the fence tightly in his hands, he lost all sense of feeling in his fingers before he knew it, Orba remained there standing in place.

“What are you doing, Orba!? Get back here!”

After finally being rebuked by Gowen, he went back to practice. As always.

A few hours after that, after washing their bodies with a cupful of water, it was time for their second meal of the day. Orba, rounding up his body like a hunchback in the corner of the dining hall, was almost grasping at his food. Like a habit, he couldn’t go through a meal without reading a book.

Then,

“Orba, good job yesterday.”

Another sword-slave, the one named Shique, nestled into his back, and Orba wildly shook him off with his hand.

“That ballchain Verne chap. When the match was decided, I didn’t know what to do. If you seemed to get into a huge disadvantage, I considered shooting him down from the outside.”

“Go away. Unless you want me to wound that smug face of yours.”

“Ooh, scary. But I wouldn’t mind any wound you give me, for it’ll become a bond between me and you.”

Even though it was hard, despite Shique’s chuckling behaviour, to make an accurate judgement on whether he was serious or making a joke, Orba didn’t socialize with him either way. The handsomely Shique had grown out his hair and even used make-up when it came to a gladiatorial battle. And just like that, because it seemed to further his degenerate good looks, he was tremendously popular among the female crowd. Even though the person himself was a self-styled, huge misogynist.

“However, I expected no less from you, Orba. Even without me lending you a hand, you managed to make a truly magnificent performance. Are you, both in name and reality, Tarkas’s top gladiator, I wonder?”

“I wouldn’t say it was magnificent.”

Gowen, the one in charge of training the gladiators, made his appearance. Although Orba showed plain the annoyance in his eyes as he sat down at the same table, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Although you did well, it’s a fact that it was also dangerous. When you broke in, your timing was still too hasty. It’s a bad habit of yours to take risks when you’re driven into a corner, only if even by a bit. You should spend more time putting an effort into ensuring your predominance. Although Verne was a brilliant swordsman, he wasn’t the type to target his opponent’s weak points. But a more observant opponent could easily see through your quick temper, and sweep you off your feet.”

He was a grey-haired man in his mid-fifties, but he still had a stout and tanned body, and the peering glances he gave the sword-slaves were filled with intensity.

“His opponent was that Verne, though. That guy was, curiously enough, in perfectly good shape,” a new voice called out, belonging to Tarkas Gladiatorial Group’s number one giant, Gilliam.

He had been in the same arena as Orba and Shique the day before, carrying a battle-ax on his shoulder, and with that the three strongest sword-slaves were gathered together. With long auburn hair in as much disorder as possible, his face, grinning with clenched teeth, had a look as intimidating as that of a wild lion.

“When I heard you had to go against Verne, I honestly thought you ran out of luck. Well, you don’t have bad skills. But, as usual, you still don’t know what it means to be a gladiator. It’s worthless if you win gracelessly. It won’t satisfy the guests. The way you carelessly kept running from place to place and then suddenly decided the match with one blow was just not entertaining at all. You’ve got to hit them up front.”

For someone like a sword-slave, it wasn’t just about winning the match. You had to be popular, in short, make sure that a lot of visitors come to the see that gladiator alone. Plain gladiators, after finally having earned a pile of money, would be thrown before wild animals or dragons on their own, only to satisfy the sadistic tastes of their customers.

That was why the gladiators – every one of them – strove to hone their skills, and also tried to appeal to the audience with flashy personalities in order to survive. Some decorated their body with gaudy armours, some made a show out of dragging out their opponent’s heart after their demise, while others inked their bodies with mysterious tattoos.

As for Shique, he dramatically claimed to be ‘a descendent of and ancient royal dynasty’.

“This time, go against me, Orba. I’ll teach you what it is to fight for real.”

“Not interested.”

“Haha, are you afraid of me?”

“Oh, I am. I’m scared. So, get lost.”

“You bastard!”

As Orba continued eating his meal in his usual stooped behaviour, Gilliam pushed him in the back.

“Stop it!” Gowen commanded.

If there was a disturbance, the soldiers belonging to the gladiatorial group would rush in, so for the time being Gilliam took his leave with a reddened face.

“Come to think of it, some strange newcomers have appeared,” Gowen said, after some time had passed, as if he suddenly remembered. It looked like he was talking about the ones Orba had seen too, trailing behind Tarkas back then.

“Strange? Like, with horns in their hair, and the bulge of a tail in the back of their pants?” a sword slave named Kain interfered.

He was a boy, the same age as Orba, who came to the detention facility a year ago and took after him. He wasn’t that great physically or with a sword, but he excelled in dexterity, especially when handling handguns or rifles.

“Or maybe a survivor from the Ryuujin<ref>Dragon people.</ref> Tribe, doesn’t that sound romantic?”

“Ryuujin, Geblin, or whatever type of person appears now, I probably wouldn’t even be surprised. This is a sword slave company after all, a trading place for all kinds of races.”

“It’s a much simpler story. I heard every last one of those guys hardly have any skill at the sword.”

“What…?”

Kain looked uninterested but stood on the tips of his toes.

“I mostly can’t believe Tarkas would have bought a bunch of good-for-nothings without a grumpy face. But he seemed in an unusually good mood.”

“Oh?”

“Certainly. For a master like Tarkas, whose eyes are always dazzled by the shine of gold, it sounds really strange, right?”

“Good mood? That guy?” Orba said, remembering the situation with Tarkas during the day.

“I’ve known him longer than you. The only times I’ve seen Tarkas in a good mood was when he got the chance to earn a huge amount of money.”

“Then again, I wonder if it’s nobles who came to visit. About an exhibition match, or something like that. Those newcomers could’ve also been nobles who were asking to be bought. Or maybe they’re political offenders who opposed the Mephius Empire. Could there be a request for them to be gruesomely fed to dragons in public?”

“There’s a strange intensity to your words, because I can’t read your face.”

“Anyway, where’s the new book? It’s been three months since I’ve asked for it.”

Losing interest in the conversation, Orba inquired about something else. The other guys had all started raising different topics among themselves. By tomorrow, they were likely to fight as opponents even if they were gladiators working for the same firm. The idea of deepening a friendship more than necessary had never been in Orba’s mind from the start.

“Ahh, it’s been purchased. It’ll be here tomorrow. However… although it seems a little late to say this, you’re a bit unusual too. Of the guys here, even those that can read and write letters, I doubt they’ve ever read more than a hundred in their life.”

Plucking at a skin of chicken, Gowen glanced over at Orba.

“Sometimes, even I’m almost driven with the impulse to tear off that mask. What’s the true face that lies underneath? There are times I think you’re only a young wild brat, and there are times the cool-headedness of a man who has survived many battlefields peeks through. Yesterday was like that. You took the appropriate actions against a Sozos without flinching.”

“Are you praising me or not?”

“I’m praising you. Other than taking up a sword and fighting for yourself, you calmly consider the circumstances. Although I think it may practically be better for leading types, you like books about history and people, get absorbed reading them late into the night and swallow their knowledge, and there’s also that quick temper of yours.”

When meeting him for the first time, basically from the time he was bought by the Tarkas company, Orba’s face had been covered by a mask. Ever since then, he hadn’t taken it off even once. Of course, everybody wanted to know why. They wanted to see his face. They wondered about his origins.

In the beginning, it worried Gowen that Orba met fists with them in response to their curiosity and suspicions. But when half a year had passed, he thought of the makeshift excuse that ‘a magician put a curse on it’ and after a year the teasing stopped, and soon nobody asked him about it anymore. Although some newcomers occasionally asked him about it, Orba was able to turn a blind eye.

“What do you gain from reading a book? At least, at the place where I was born and raised, you didn’t gain respect no matter how many books you owned.”

“It sounds like you’ve been raised by ape men or Geblin.”

“Watch your language, Orba. I think I’m especially kind to you considering the circumstances. If it doesn’t matter to you, I too can adopt that same attitude.”

Behaving like a man who couldn’t understand a joke was one of Gowen’s beloved habits. Orba revealed a stifled smile, but the deep-wrinkled, sword-slave training official unexpectedly gave a serious look.

“As a sword-slave, normally, you only try your best to survive for the day. Some go back out into this corrupted world, but there are some people who are content being a sword-slave for the rest of their life, because they can’t live without committing yet another crime – although, for most, their ‘whole life’ would probably be very short – but, you’re different. You, at least, do not get absorbed in the killing and focus on the future. After that, I always think: Hey, what should I say to such a man? Should I tell him to throw away a future like that? When it’s only hard, even if you hold onto it with such devotion? Or should I tell him to seriously hold on to that hope? Because it will be the strength for him to live this through?”

“Did you secretly drink some alcohol, gramps? You’re talkative.”

“I’m being serious.”

Gowen stubbornly shook his head. Orba decided he had truly gotten drunk. Usually, Gowen wouldn’t have remained silent after being called ‘gramps’.

“Who is it that you fight? The other sword-slaves, yourself, or do you even have a purpose?”

“I don’t know.”

Scuffing his words like a boy, Orba turned away his face. He didn’t want his inner feelings to be seen, where he was trembling like as a child.

Finishing his meal, Orba quickly left the dining hall. Although the sword-slaves could walk about freely, there was nothing but the dining hall and the bedrooms at the detention camp. It was called a bedroom, but it wasn’t much different from a stable to keep livestock. As he lay down in a corner, Orba stared at his own hands.

It had been two years since then. Even today, he could remember it so well. And if he hadn’t confirmed it himself, those ‘two years’ would’ve been no more than a number. For two years, Orba had barely stayed alive, surrounded by the smell of blood, guts, and iron.

However, he killed, survived, did it all over again, and what was the point in all of that?

Orba turned over on the floor. He had already grown accustomed to the feel of his hard mask touching the ground. It was as Tarkas said. Even if he was freed from being a slave, he didn’t know more of how to live the ‘clever’ way of life, but it seemed that Gowen had misunderstood something – he was not waiting with hopes for a future like that. Supposing he did…

Under the thin shadow formed by fangs, Orba tightly gnashed his teeth.

''If I do live through this, then what do I do?''

It was decided. He was tired of doing things over and over in the arena, the massacres, the blood, the fights, killing each other. On the way back, he was never able to think of things like ‘it’s okay’ or ‘it’ll get easier’.

An inexplicable anger was stuck in the glitter of his eyes, on the other side of the mask.

''I’ll get it back. I’ll take it back. And for the ones who took it away from me, even though it is not enough, I will have them fully taste the pain of the agonizing cries from all the people I’ve killed these past two years.''

=== Part 3 ===

“So you’re here, Orba?”

Roan suddenly showed his face.

Orba, who had been looking up at the night sky, rudely averted his eyes. As a punishment for neglecting to take care of the animals and play instead, his mother had taken away his supper, and now he was just outside the barn, sulking on his own. His face, as well as both knees he buried his face in, was full of scratches.

“Did you have another fight?”

“Not really.”

The quick-tempered Orba often quarrelled with the other children in the neighbourhood. Swinging around a wooden sword, he even went as far as the neighbouring village to pick fights. The villagers that caught sight of his figure, almost falling forward as he raced through the fields, half-jokingly said,

“Oh, Orba’s doing his best again,” as they waved their hands and watched over him.
Of course, after having his fights, his mother scolded him to no end.

“Why don’t you follow your brother’s example,” was the same thing she always said.

His older brother was able to do anything. In the old days, he looked through a single book their father brought back when coming from the city for several times, and from that alone he was able to memorize reading and writing letters by himself. He also learned how to do numbers at a very young age. Around the time he turned ten, after begging a merchant from the city to take him in as an assistant, he was also supporting his poor family’s living expenses.

Orba on the other hand, although he’d learned reading and writing letters from his older brother, was terrible at doing numbers, and above all, he didn’t know what to do with his boiling hot blood.

Almost every night, he spent sleepless hours staring at the ceiling. His blood was always screaming in the dark. After fist fights and such, the prickling pain of his injuries seemed to overflow with the hotter, more painful black blood from deeper inside, and it felt as if it would simply jump out into the open.

At those times, he’d jump to his feet and go outside. And he’d pick up his wooden sword that was leaning against the barn. No matter how many times it had been confiscated by his mother, he always made a new one from scratch. It wasn’t uncommon, either, for him to swing around his sword until the break of dawn.

“It’s okay if you get into fights,” Roan said, sitting down next to Orba. “But you have to help mother out properly. Working as a single woman is very hard. You know that too, right?”

Along the southern border of the Mephius Empire, was a place commonly known as Drought Valley. It was a naturally formed valley in Mephius where the river dried out, but there was a poor village, after all not even the name was written down on maps, where Orba had grown up.

Orba didn’t have many memories of his father. He passed away when he was two or three. While he’d been engaged in additional construction work for Apta Fortress, that protected the border south of the village, his father had unluckily fallen victim to a cave-in while he’d been digging through the cliff. Cutting through the valley’s steep cliffs instead of creating houses or buildings was an everyday occurrence in Mephius, and his father had been such a construction worker.

“Father was a man born only to dig a dark hole in the ground.”

He remembered that, one day, his mother had said those words in a tone that was neither complaining nor at grief. With that said, his mother too, was a person who had no pleasure in always working hard from morning till evening, every day. She ploughed the barren fields, sold clothes of her native people and towels she made by hand at the City of Apta once every month, and made the nearly tasteless stew for the young brothers every day without ever getting tired of it.

Orba too, also passed through life without change or colour, but his only pleasure was when his brother came back home for a break, two or three times a month, and brought along many different books.

Books written about the Old World where humankind once left its nest, books about Magic King Zodias, and, above all, historical novels with colourful illustrations or heroic stories, got Orba fully absorbed into them. Brave heroes swinging their swords to rescue a country full of dangers, beautiful maidens in thin clothes that were imprisoned in tall towers, vicious dragons revived from ancient ruins — things he’d never experience in a lifetime and the many dazzling adventures in those worlds made Orba engrossed, and whenever he closed a book, being back in that small, miserable reality surrounding him only made him despair.

“You know, aniki<ref>Familiar/honorific way of saying ‘older brother’.</ref>,” Orba said, burying his head in his arms and holding it with his hands. “I feel like doing something more.”

“You’re not even ten years old, are you? Worrying about such things doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m being serious. Look at all the adults here. Even I’ll become like that within another few years. Day after day, you work and work, but life won’t get any easier. I’ll marry someone sooner or later, a child gets born, and if the child’s an ‘unruly boy’ like me, one day he’ll surely say he wants to go to the city, be a soldier for Mephius, or ride a Garberan airship, and I’ll say something like, ‘Oh, in the old days, your father also held onto dreams like that’, and then I’ll probably laugh along with the other adults while drinking my tea.”

“Everyone’s like that,” Roan laughed, bathing in the pale moonlight.

Around this time, you could always hear singing voices coming from the house on the other side of the road. Listening to the cheerful voices of men who got drunk, although he wasn’t really paying attention, he said,

“Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. There are people who can’t live without working hard every day, people who sail over violent waves by boat, old philosophers who’ve buried themselves in thousand-year-old books, priests of Badyne who will preach their truth to numerous believers, many renowned generals who soar through the skies in dragonstone ships, and even country leaders who’ve subdued many territories at their feet. What they do in a day may be surprisingly different, whether they wet their swords with blood, drown in the letters of the alphabet, or even chant the name of God, but I think even they can’t provide you with an answer.”

“They, too, will think our aspects are hopeless. Like the king who’s surrounded by luxuries I wouldn’t have the money for within a lifetime, and eating his stomach full with delicious food every night. He sometimes takes a large army on a campaign, or gets shocked by betrayal, but every day he’s alive. I’ll never be able to. Neither the king nor the nobles, can even imagine what’s inside our dreams. Those people… Yes, take this night for example, they don’t even seem to be looking up at the same moon as I.”

“I wonder. It could be that, exactly because the king spends every day like that, he may sometimes feel a yearning to spending his life out in town. Maybe, to get away from the constraining life in the imperial court, he wants to go out to a sour-smelling bar sometimes and drown in cheap wine, listening to ridiculous stories, disgusted that, every day, he cannot relax his guard, not even for blood relatives. And he’ll probably think, ‘Ahh, wouldn’t it be easy to just go through life breaking a sweat*, with no more worries about being targeted?’”


“That’s just a delusion. You mean he’s yearning for a life like ours? Just because he doesn’t know the difficulties and insecurities of such a life, he’ll only think of it on a whim.”

“Exactly. Isn’t that what I said? There isn’t a human being anywhere who understands everything, knows what he really wants, or knows who he truly is. I think everybody longs for what they don’t know, what they have not experienced, and they’re also looking for wherever there their true course may lie. In this sense, they’re no different from us.”

“I don’t know. Then, you mean even the king, even the great priest, is someone who’s not completely satisfied?”

But when his brother was about to answer,

“Why are you talking about such difficult things?”

Suddenly Alice appeared, swaying her dark brown hair slightly. It was then that they noticed the singing voices from the house across had completely stopped. It looked the girl had finally come to put them to sleep.

While she seemed to have overheard just a little, Alice showed a dimpled smile,

“In the end, it’s nothing but pointless stuff. In this world, no matter where you’re from, first of all, Orba, you have start by taking care of your mother and work earnestly, so that you can get to eat tomorrow.”

“Hear that, aniki? When they’re not interested in the conversation, women immediately find it difficult, insignificant, or have more important things to do.”

“That, too, is the truth,” Roan laughed merrily.

Alice was two years younger than his brother and three years older than Orba. And when Orba was even younger, they played as if Alice was a sister among the three.

Soon after, they enjoyed talking about memories of those days. When, by Alice’s suggestion, they went fishing at the river, and that same Alice nearly drowned as she slipped on the rocks. Or the time they went to see the caravan’s horses as it arrived at their village, and Orba got into trouble secretly trying to mount one. Or when, because a boy from the nearby village said he ‘saw a wild dragon’, the three went to the rumoured place and got completely lost on the canyon’s intricate path. Although they finally did come home late, all three had to suffer though a good scolding…

“Anyway, wasn’t it because Doug from that village deceived us? Ever since that time, you’ve had a bad relationship, right? Even your opponent from today’s fight……”

“Shut up.”

The nail hitting him right on the head, Orba turned away his face. Although the reason he picked a fight with Doug was all because of Alice, he never spoke of it.

However, as they laughed and reminisced together like that for the entire evening, it was the last time he spoke with his brother in peace.

In those days, the Imperial Dynasty of Mephius and the Kingdom of Garbera were already at war with each other. It was said the Garberan cavalry recently crossed their border, although the two countries had a history of repeated conflict for some time, concerning the very definition of that border. The southern Apta Fortress, which was close to Orba’s village, had also suffered from attacks by Garbera’s mounted troops on many occasions.

Eventually, Garbera temporarily gave up on capturing Apta Fortress, and aimed for striking them by another route. And that was by setting up a trap. Targeting them when the majority of the troops stationed in Apta had been pulled back to the imperial capital, they immediately drove them into an siege.

Naturally, Apta Fortress was forced to a desperate, defensive battle. As it soon turned into holding out until the reinforcements came from the imperial capital, the Mephian army forcibly commandeered soldiers from the surrounding villages. And Orba’s older brother Roan was also one of them.

Of course, his mother screamed, crying. If there was only one hope his mother worked for within her nearly colourless life, it was probably for his brother. Although she clung onto the soldier that tried to take away his brother, Roan gently placed a hand on her shoulder and said,

“It’s okay. Help will come from the imperial capital soon enough, so be patient until then.”

Besides, the pay was much better than that of a merchant’s assistant, he added with a laugh.

Orba, standing next to Alice, was seeing him off, watching the backs of several of the village’s youths crossing over the layers of rock.

''If I were just a little bigger'', Orba thought. ''I could go to the fortress instead of my brother. Then, mother would not have to be so sad either, and I may even receive a distinguished service among the soldiers.''

After his brother disappeared, his mother, who had always been so devoted to work, spent almost the entire day in prayer, as if something inside her completely snapped. Although she sometimes remembered to stand in the kitchen and prepare a meal, when it came to the menu, she acted as if his brother Roan was about to return from the city, making only his favourite food. But when she recalled that he wouldn’t be at the dining table after all, his mother threw it all away in the backyard.

Meanwhile, Orba ploughed the neglected fields, and also took care of their few animals on his own. During the evenings, Orba would climb up a narrow road carved into the cliffs and always stare at the direction of the imperial capital, looking for rows of gorgeous armours, vast dust clouds from military dragons during their march, and the majestic figures of dragonstone battleships – but he never saw the sight he was hoping for.

And, when about three weeks had passed since his brother left, residents from a village beyond the valley, which was closer to the fortress than theirs, were bounding in, out of breath.

“The fortress has fallen!”

They came with the worst news.

Apta Fortress had fallen before the approaching Garbera forces. They said the commanders and main staff who guarded the fortress had started on the escape, leaving their soldiers behind. There were no reinforcements from the imperial capital at Apta, for they’d been sent to the natural stronghold of Birac, next to the ravine further to the north. So it seemed the imperial capital had already decided that that would be heart of the southern border’s line of defence. Apta had only been used to buy time.

And, concerning the land in between, the Garberan forces that were camped at the fortress, started ravaging the surrounding villages. There were acts of plunder and assault – raiding, so to speak.

The people of the village were in a hurry to gather their few belongings, although there was hardly any food with the harvest being near and they were limited to holding their own crops, and left the village in a rush. Those who had acquaintances in the vicinity hurried over there, while the people who did not, took a temporary refuge in the valley, until the Garberan soldiers left their village.

Obviously, Orba followed them, but in the midst of his escape, he noticed that his mother wasn’t around.

Startled out of his wits, Orba turned back to the village. Beyond the rocks towering over the area like hills, he could see the complete panorama of his village sinking behind the evening mists. Surely, she was still there. She was waiting for his brother to come back. For his brother, who may possibly never come back again.

“Orba, where are you going? Orba!”

As Alice’s voice called out behind him, he pushed the crowd aside and headed back in a hurry.

And when he managed to arrive at his destination, there wasn’t a single soul, the village had become as silent as death. Because he was familiar with the scenery, there was an eeriness as if he had wandered into another dimension instead.

From the other side of the valley, he could see a group of men and horses approaching, and Orba ran towards his house in a hurry. When he opened the back door, his mother was there. She was trying to prepare a meal as usual.

“Roan?” his mother said, turning around, but when her eyes fixed on Orba’s sweaty figure, she, miraculously, shrugged her shoulders. “Were you still playing, Orba? Just help me out a little, your brother will be coming home soon.”

Outside, sounds could slightly be heard of the voices of soldiers, chasing the animals that were left behind. Afraid of the smoke rising up, he hurriedly tried to stop his mother. However,

“What’s this, there’s nothing!”

“What a measly village. Even though those guys at Gascon had it better. It seemed they slept with all of the girls.”

“Isn’t there at least any alcohol? Go and look!”

As soon as he thought he heard those voices coming closer, the door was violently kicked down.

Three soldiers came in noisily, each of them equipped with a simple chainmail, lance, and sword. On their faces, blackened by dust clouds, only the eyes casted a unique white light.

“Oh, there’s a woman!”

“What, isn’t she too old? Besides, isn’t there any alcohol? Or something to eat?”

After staring at his mother, who was protectively holding the crouched Orba in her hands, they started vandalizing the house, doing as they pleased. Orba was crouching down completely, concealing his breath like a herbivore trying not to attract the attention of wild beasts.

When the Garberan soldiers smashed through the door, his eyes had caught sight of the wooden sword, which had been resting against it, rolling over the floor. But in the end, it was nothing more than a child’s toy. He hated being told that more than anything, and was more than eager to stare back at those kind of people, but now he understood it painfully.

Then, as the soldiers were ransacking through to the shelves, they grabbed the crude ceramic tableware from inside and carelessly tossed them aside. Making a loud sound, the broken pieces scattered over the floor. It took Orba by surprise, as they were the things his brother Roan used, and his mother, who had been submissive until now, rose up with such force that Orba got pushed aside. From there, she started clinging onto one of the soldiers’ back.

“Hey, what? What?”

“It looks like she wants to play with me!”

A red-faced soldier unwrapped his mother, turned her around, and pushed her down in place. He placed his hand in front of her mouth when she tried to raise a piercing cry, then took out a pointed knife hidden inside his chainmail, and thrust it before his mother’s pale face.

“Stop it, you’d take any woman, wouldn’t you?”

“The taste of a young lass is nice, but an old flower like her ain’t bad either.”

As he spoke his red face showed a vulgar smile, and the thread holding Orba’s tensed up feelings snapped. Raising an awkward cry, he charged in. It was a desperate assault, however, and he was easily blown back by a single arm.

Knocking the back of his head against the shelves, although stunned for a moment, Orba gnashed his teeth and immediately faced forward again. And, from the top of the shelf, there was something that fell down with a loud crash. It was something long and narrow wrapped in a bundle and, with the front part of it torn, it was emitting a silver shine before Orba’s eyes.

''This is…''

Hiding it by reflex, Orba hurriedly tore apart the bundle. As he’d expected, it was a shortsword about sixty centimetres long. The round pommel had Mephian-made characteristics. Matching its slender blade, the handle was also a little thin, fitting nicely into a child’s hand.

As he took a hold of it, several letters carved into the blade jumped into his eyes.

''O, R, B, A...''

It was only for an instant – with his mother’s screams, the sound of the red-faced soldier disorderedly throwing off his chainmail, and the noise of the soldiers laying waste to the house. Although the frightening surge of black blood boiled in his body, he drove it far away and, in that instant, the thoughts squeezed together guided him to an explanation.

The blade was engraved only with ‘Orba’. Of course, he hadn’t known such a thing was in his house. He didn’t think his mother or other acquaintances would’ve especially prepared it for him. For all he knew, couldn’t this be anything but a present from his brother Roan?

But Roan should’ve handed over the money he got for his services to his mother. Besides, a blade like this could not be purchased in ordinary towns. Most likely, after going to Apta Fortress, he got provided with weapons as a soldier, and he’d asked the blacksmith stationed at the fort to engrave his name.

And then, he left it with the caravan that went circled the fortress and the towns. But when it came to his house, his mother must have accepted it. Thinking, afterwards, that it shouldn’t be crossed over into Orba’s hands, she most likely intended to keep it from her son’s sight. She probably thought that it was too dangerous for Orba, or maybe she was afraid that Orba would go away like Roan if he had a sword in hand.

At any rate…

“Hey, what’s that you’re holding?” a soldier called out from Orba’s crouched back. “It looks like you’re holding something valuable. Hey, why don’t you show me?”

“This is mine!”

“That’s not for you decide, but for me. Now, give it here.”

The soldier ridiculing Orba put a hand on his shoulder trying to get him out of the way with force. It was more than enough.

''That’s right, Orba'', he responded to his own inner voice.

“I said, show me — gyahh!”

Turning around, Orba swung his sword downward. With blood spraying from the man’s shoulder, Orba slipped under the staggered soldier’s arm and raced towards the man who was bent over his mother.

The red-faced man tore his eyes away from his mother and jumped back. Quickly picking up his hand-axe, he then received Orba’s blow that was coming at him. Orba stood firm on both his legs and somehow tried to get his sword through, but still, the blade was short, and a child’s strength couldn’t push a hand-axe aside like that. However, instead of easily getting overmatched, Orba made himself fall to the side.

“That brat…”

He swung down another blow with murderous intent. Orba rolled over to the side. After doing one rotation, the axe’s edge bit down there, right in front of his eyes. In that very instant, his blood froze up,

“Stop!”

His mother was clinging onto the red-faced man’s feet. Flying into a rage, the man kicked at her hands, turned around, and raised his axe even higher. When Orba saw it, the tension of his black blood – the anxiety, irritation, rage and other various emotions that had simmering in the boy’s body for such a long time – was about to be released from one single point, as if it had only now taken its final shape.

He stood up. Holding his sword with both hands, he forced it under his arm and slammed it, along with the rest of his body, into the soldier’s defenceless back.

The man’s back, as he’d taken off his armour, first received the blade considerably easy. Then there was a little firm resistance, but it also went through smoothly as Orba’s pushed it through with both hands, until, in the blink of an eye, the point of his sword finally pierced through the man’s chest.

Because Orba was also being dragged while the red-faced man staggered, he hurriedly let go of the sword. The man clashed with his back against the wall. After turning around to face the triumphant Orba, he made his mouth flap open and close, probably trying to say some sort of grudge, and threw up a huge amount of blood as he sank to the floor, until his bright red tongue drooped out and he no longer moved.

“You bastard!” the soldier who had his shoulder cut shouted, grimacing in pain.

“You killed Douga. You lowly brat.”

The other also shouted in a loud voice, and came rushing over at Orba. No longer holding a sword, Orba received a full body blow and rolled over on the floor again. He got kicked in the stomach, and stepped on his back.

“Mother and child both, I’ll hang your heads under the eaves.”

Crawling on all fours, the tip of the sword was thrust before the nape of Orba’s neck. His mother too, was lifted up, twisted by the hand, and placed in the same position next to Orba. No matter how much he wrested his body with all his strength, he couldn’t get rid of the weight of the man standing on his back.

“Let me go!”

“Ahh, right away. After you’ve turned into a corpse, that is!”

Orba, raising a bestial cry, was suddenly hovering in the moment that came between life and death. With a whishing sound of wind being cut as it was brought straight down. Finally, he shouted out his brother Roan’s name, when,

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, the wind-cutting sound ceased. Orba, scrambled thoughts mulling in his head, realized it wasn’t his brother who’d appeared though.

The one who had newly come inside the house, was a Garberan soldier after all. However, unlike the soldiers that had broken in, he was armed all over his body, with not a single part untouched, and his armour too was shining in silver. He still had a young face.

For a short time the soldiers could be seen flinching from the intruder, but then,

“It is as you can see, Knight Apprentice Sir.”

“We’ve come to receive our fair reward after winning the battle. Just because you stood in distinguished service for a while, you’re clad as a knight after all, surely you haven’t come to stop such unrefined things like these, right?” the two explained grimly.

Feigning a courteous manner, there was clearly an air that they were making light of the man.

“Besides, look. Our comrade was killed. There’s no way soldiers with Garberan pride can let this go by without getting vengeance, right?”

The soldier who spoke tipped Orba’s body over at his foot, and established the sword’s aim with his other hand. What Orba’s eyes saw as he looked up at the ceiling, was the point of the sword, but then a single string of light came flashing from the side.

“What are you doing!”

“How pitiable. Vengeance, is it? You mean to say there’s any pride in that against a child?”

The armoured youth had drawn his sword. It seemed like the man had felled that one soldier, for Orba realized the sword that should’ve pierced through his heart had somehow been repelled the to the side. The other roared something in a hoarse voice nearby. It sounded like he’d called out the armoured man’s name, but Orba didn’t catch it at the time.

“Y-Your comrade… how dare you, bastard!”

“I don’t want to be called a comrade or such by inferior people like you.”

As he thrust out the blooded tip of his sword, the soldier stepped back.

“Inferior, you say? Even though you’ve got the same history. Just because you were blessed with the opportunity to make a distinguished service, you get carried away. Always chanting, knight, knight as if it’s your favourite word, but did you become a real knight? You don’t share a bloodline with the Garberan royal family, you’ll be an ‘apprentice’ your whole life. Know your place!”

Soon, the solider who seemed to be stepping back, quickly pulled something out from behind his back and brought it in front of him. It was a crossbow, fixed with a long and slender pedestal, and he released the trigger.

That instant, the armoured youth nimbly turned aside. Making a single spin, as if dancing, he narrowly avoided the arrow and decapitated the soldier’s head. There wasn’t the slightest hesitation. The decapitated head whirled through the air, struck the house’s wall and rolled over the floor.

“Garbera is a country of knights. Instead of further defiling its name, receive the honour of being killed in action.”

His handsome looks, his way of fighting, and those words he murmured – it was all as if a hero had emerged from the books Orba read all the time.

“Commander, what’s the commotion!?”

A voice was raised from the outside, but he replied with “It’s nothing,” as he wiped the blood from his sword.

“You’re a child of Mephius?”

Orba didn’t immediately know what was good answer to the question raised. It was not that he was especially conscious of the name of the country called Mephius, either. The people of Orba’s village, generally living in a world of only about ten kilometres surrounding the village, weren’t very interested in the country or its territorial disputes.

The man gave Orba a thin smile when he gave no answer, and glanced over at the soldier who’d sunk in a puddle of blood. Orba, his body suddenly freezing up, tightly held onto his mother’s shoulders. He started looking if there was any weapon within reach, when,

“Hurry and get away from here,” the young man said. “It was to protect your mother – right? You truly hold the spirit of a knight inside of you. Much more than the people of Garbera, who seem to have forgotten all about the knight’s way. Now, you may get out of here. I’ll try to stop the plunder and assaults as much as possible, but I can’t catch a hold on all of them.”

Those eyes, for some reason, resembled those of his brother Roan. Supporting the shoulder of his sobbing mother, Orba slowly faced the back door, then, pulling his mother by the hand, he ran away at full speed. A wintry wind blowing through the streets after sunset, struck his cheeks. Urging his mother, who kept muttering ‘Roan, Roan’, sometimes even shouting at her, they finally united with Alice and the village people after an hour.

After that, they followed behind Alice’s father and headed for a village that was fifteen kilometres upriver to the north.

Orba didn’t know if the young armoured man had been true to his words, but at least from there on the random plundering was no longer carried out around Apta, which later became the territory of Garbera.

However, the flames were still approaching the village that Orba and the rest had succeeded in running away to earlier.

There were hardly any signs. Suddenly, ‘they’ came at them in full force and immediately started plundering. They were men who were completely harnessed in black. Provisions, clothes, and of course money and goods, all the things of possible value were taken by force. The people, too, were no exception. As soon as they arrived at the village they took the women, and impaled any man who tried to resist with spears from atop their horses, decapitated their heads with swords, and exposed them to gunfire.

Amidst all of the confusion, Orba lost sight of his mother. Just when he stumbled forward with impatience and fright,

“Alice!”

He spotted Alice getting bound by a soldier with her arms behind her back. Even though she was about to be dragged away, Alice was still screaming at him to run away. Completely losing himself, Orba leapt forward. The feeling of killing that one person still remained in his hands. And now he’d decided to do the same thing. He reached out his hand for the sword the soldier was carrying.

But, the moment he took a hold of the handle, he received a strong blow to the back of his head. The sight flickered before his eyes, and his consciousness was soon about to fade. Just before it did, he had a feeling he heard Alice’s voice calling out his name.

When he came to, Orba was lying on his back, spread-eagled, on the ground. His head was throbbing painfully. His consciousness was still a little dim, and he wasn’t even sure if he was dreaming or not.

“General Oubary , what do you want to do?”

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard that voice. Amongst the screams of men and women nearby, and firing in the distance, Orba secretly peeked through half-opened eyes at the one who had been called out to earlier.

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 069.jpg|thumb]]
It was a man atop a horse, holding a bottle of liquor which he’d most likely stolen. He was lightly and stylishly dressed in armour, bald, and had the majestic air of a giant. Even though he had such an serious appearance, there was violet lipstick on his thin lips, giving the elevated, sneering figure a strange kind of look.

“If all the valuables are gone, set fire to the lot. Leave not a single grain of wheat behind for Garbera.”

Saying those words, the man called general threw away his bottle of wine. It splashed against Orba’s cheeks.

“Very well, this village was burned by Garbera. Let the soldiers be thorough. They can have the women, but kill them when they’re done with them. Don’t even sell them off. You will supervise.”

Shortly after that, the screams and shouts died out. Instead, a hot wind roasted his skin, and an acrid stench started filling the air. When he finally managed to stand up, his surroundings had turned into a sea of flames.

There wasn’t a single person left alive. Orba roamed about the village, calling his mother and Alice’s name in a loud voice, while brushing away sparks of fire at his hands. But the only things that came into his sight were the slaughtered bodies of the village people. The bodies of the elderly, women, and children.

''That Oubary…''

With the place scorched all over, Orba’s whole body had become dark red with the blood and soot falling from overhead.

''Isn’t that Oubary… Apta Fortress’s…''

He remembered hearing about it. When the fortress had urgently been recruiting soldiers, he was sure the military men that appeared in the village had spoken the name. He was the veteran general who had been entrusted with the protection of the fort.

So that meant this had been the Mephian army. After the fortress fell, the troops including Oubary went north, ahead of Garbera’s pursuing troops, and burned down the village where Orba and the others had escaped to earlier. And they’d taken all spoils of wars before going back to the capital, so that Garbera couldn’t make use of it.

''I’ll kill them'', Orba vowed.

Mustering up the strength from somewhere in his body, although there had not even been one drop left behind earlier, the power that kept him going forward, it came from his unrelenting vow with the intent to kill.

Although he had no clear answers on whether to kill Oubary, the Garberan soldiers, or the Emperor, and on how to achieve those ends, for now, he just kept on walking.

<noinclude>

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
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|-
| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter1

2013-05-22T01:36:46Z

Kiydon:

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter1

2013-05-21T21:47:29Z

Kiydon: More grammar fixes.

==Chapter 1: Iron and Blood==

=== Part 1 ===

The outcome was decided.

The amphitheatre of Ba Roux shook. The many spectators that were crowded together unanimously shouted out the victor’s name and stamped their feet, creating a racket that sounded much like a tidal wave.

While the winner was being bathed in the passionate and boisterous cheers, the one who had received the opposite fate lay motionless besides his feet. Eventually, the loser’s headless body was struck with a hook and dragged away by the hands of two slaves.

The sun was still glaring even though it was near evening. The spectators’ faces were covered with sweat and glittered brightly, as if someone smeared them with oil, and their eyes, too, were sparkling with bloodlust, as they anticipated the next fight to be yet another battle to the death. Whoever just won or lost didn’t stay on their minds for long. It was only the heat of battle that left an everlasting taste, stood in the air, and kept whirling around the arena.

“Go, go!”

“Do it, kill!”

Today was another success.Because the more virtuous people living in the city, for whom the admission fees were no more than about a child’s weekly allowance, were able to watch the games, over a thousand spectators were gathered.

The next match was a cavalry battle. Both men were armed with spears, emerging from the east and west gates, and crossed each other at great speeds. At the second charge, one of the men got flung off of his mount and, as he scrambled to get up again, the other swiftly jumped off his own horse to give the finishing blow.

Up next were two barely clothed men, who started to grapple each other with their bare hands.

They were sword-slaves, or so-called gladiators. In compensation for doing these public, life-threatening battles, these people were granted a few days of their lives and the minimum amount of food required to get by. Some of them were already born as slaves, some had been thrown into the arena for committing crimes, and there were even those who had personally applied to cast themselves into this living hell.

But if gladiators got well-known enough to become veterans, they received a different kind of popularity from the crowd. One of them, named Shique, was a handsome gladiator who was popular among women and had just won the brawling match. He was strangely pretentious, bowing in a way much like a nobleman would, and notably, shrill voices rose from the crowd.

“Did you see that, brother? Shique just won!”
<ref> She actually calls him お義兄様 ‘ogikei-sama’, which, in this case, means he’s her step-brother. However, she pronounces it as ‘onii-sama’.</ref>

It was the voice of a girl yet in the more tender years of age, who was sitting in one of the grandstands among the front row seats. High pillars, which rose from the corners in the left and right, supported a roof that covered the stand. Only those who were able to pay a large sum of money were able to view the match from these special seats.

From the looks of it, the young man resting his chin on his hands next to her, whom she called ‘brother’, seemed to be dissatisfied. With a long cloth wrapped around his head, the ends dangling from both the left and right just like a believer of Badyne, it looked like he was concealing his face from the glances of people around him.

“Ahh, it is as you say,” he said. “The gladiator you had your eye on won. Now, isn’t that enough? Can we hurry and get something to eat? This place is giving me a headache.”

"But it is only beginning, is it not? Did the smell of blood sicken you? You, the successor of the lands of Mephius?"

“Watch your mouth.”

Not at all worried about the youth’s clear jumpiness, the girl gave a fickle laugh.

The next fight had already started, so the young man was forced to stay after all and rested his cheeks on his hands again with a bitter look on his face. How much blood had to be splattered around, and how many sweaty muscles did she have to see before getting tired of it?

He occasionally stole a sidelong glance at the young girl’s white skin and beautiful face. She had an innocence that matched her age, but a strange sensual and mature beauty as well – it was a view much more charming than that of the savage fight below.

Then, after about two battles, a new stage was being set in the arena. One huge stake got established in the centre, and a single woman was fastened to the top. She was a beautiful woman. Purposely made to wear torn clothes, each time she writhed in pain, her breasts and thighs swayed about while whistles came from the heated male audience.

However, the woman was in no position to be bothered with their obscene looks, for at the same time the stake got put up, a big cage with approximately the same height was being carried in.

Inside was a raging beast that was roughly seven or eight metres long. Its slimy, green scales were flickering in the sunlight. It was a large dragon. Bred through repeated selective breeding by humans, it was of a variety called ‘Sozos’ that Mephius also used in wars.

Its clenched, humongous teeth, and each of its claws extending from six legs, were just like sharp swords. Probably because it was drugged, it seemed to have a somewhat repressed ferociousness and dulled instincts, but being hit by that bulk would nevertheless cause serious injuries, and it looked like it could blow away the steel cage like a toy.

“Now then! Gathered ladies and gentlemen!”

Suddenly an orator standing on an elevation began to speak over a loudspeaker, eager to finish his speech before the beast broke out.

“Next, is the start of our programme. Once, the great dragons that established our culture roamed on the earth’s surface, but they were just the same as the bloodthirsty beast we look down upon now. There is no need to fear. We are the brave souls, the purest of minds, that took over from an era of space voyage. Not even by the dragon’s tusks and claws – not to mention its fearsome, terrible breath! – will we be outdone. Please, take a look at the evidence. Behold the figures of these brave men who challenge this dragon of old, this beast of a terrifying false god!”

From the eastern gate, a single gladiator stepped forward. In the man’s hands, who sported a muscular body, was an iron ball connected to a chain.

“Ballchain Verne!”

The audience’s cheers became even louder, for he was a gladiator could pride himself in being one of the most famous fighters in Ba Roux. The man was about in his mid-thirties with dark skin, and he responded by waving a hand to the ladies and gentlemen in the audience. Then,

“It’s the Tiger!”

“Look, Iron Tiger Orba!”

A swordsman, also alone, walked out, but from the western gate.

"How eccentric," the young man commented on the steel blue mask that was covering gladiator’s face. As if imitating a tiger, small fangs protruded up from the lips, leaving only a small space for the mouth of this man named Orba underneath. Cut out into two splits were openings where the tiger’s eyes would’ve been, but naturally it was only Orba’s eyes peeking through. And, despite a tiger normally having rounded ears, the mask had pointed ends at both sides instead – it was almost as if horns were coming out from the corners.

However, that was all; he had no other outstanding character features. In comparison with Verne, he had an almost feeble body build, and he only held a simple, common longsword in his hand.

The spectators started ridiculing him, saying,

“Look at his thin body. Just one hit of the ballchain will completely smash him up!”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 022.jpg|thumb]]

“They say he took off Meier the Baron’s head at the Arena of Tidan after only two strikes. Let’s see him do the same to our Verne. Go on then!”

“This Iron Tiger Orba,” the girl said, as her cheeks blushed with excitement. “Isn’t this his first appearance in Ba Roux? But he seems to be famous. Do you know of him, brother?”

“How should I know?”

“My, what a cold reply. Fine, if you’re so bored with being here, why don’t we have a little bet on this game? Maybe it’ll end up getting you a little interested.”

“A wager, is it? For what, and how?”

“Simple. Of those two about to fight, who do you expect to win?”

“That’s stupid. How’s that even a bet? Even I know the name of that Verne guy. And his physique is way better. Even an amateur can see that. You're just trying to rip me off, betting on the clear victor yourself, aren't you?”

“My, you’re a difficult customer! But that’s fine. You can just sulk away like that as long as you like. And I even thought of bringing you along so you could have a little distraction. But I got it, I understand – you hate spending time with Ineli. If that’s the case, I will never invite you again, don’t worry!”

The girl stiffly turned away her face, as the young man panickingly stopped resting his chin on his hands.

“W-Wait. I was wrong,” he said. “I’ll bet on that masked swordsman. That’s what you want, right?”

“No. Ineli decided to bet on that swordsman first. You can take Ballchain Verne, brother.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because I like him.”

''Even though you can't see his face?'' – was what the young man was about to say, but he stopped himself in time. He couldn’t afford to displease her even more.

“Now then,” the orator said, raising his voice again. “Will Orba or will Verne take up the role of the hero and set that woman free? Or will these rivals be fighting in vain, as the cage breaks and this poor, beautiful lady ends up in the dragon’s stomach?”

From there on, the two swordsmen would battle, and the winner would rescue the woman – or, as the orator stated, ‘a certain third daughter from a ruined country’ – from the dragon’s clutches, and also earn a night of love-making. Or so the scene was set out to be.

The two men both stepped forward at the same time. As they approached each other, the lack in Orba’s physique became all the more apparent. Verne spoke in a voice that could be heard by those in the front row seats.

“So, you call yourself a tiger, huh? I’ve heard your name. But, there’s nothing more unreliable than a rumour. You can try to hide your face, but I can see the skin underneath. You’re still young, just a kid.”

Ballchain Verne’s thick lips, in proportion to the rest of him, bended into a smile.

“I’m sure the mask is just a bluff so people won’t make fun of you. You’re not a tiger, you’re just a mangy cur! I’ll teach you what a real man’s battle truly is all about!”

Facing Verne, who was loudly laughing at his shoulders, Orba didn’t reply. Probably assuming his nerves were blown away, Verne gave a sneering look, took up a defensive stance, and slung the ballchain over his shoulder.


“Start!”

There was a pointed signalling voice, but it halfway disappeared into the further increasing sound of the audience’s cheers. In an instant, Verne made his move.

He wielded the iron ballchain with all his strength. At first, the masked swordsman was about to rush in, but, as if panicked by his sheer force, he quickly stepped back. There was a small spark as the iron ball chafed against the mask. It was enough for Verne to take pursuit of the stumbling Orba. The huge iron ball, which was much larger than a human head, approached with the howling of the wind, and Orba continued to avoid it by stepping back.

He rolled over the ground, excessively jumped aside, and finally bustled about by making an evasive gesture – which invited laughter from the spectators.

“Look at that, it seems the swordsman you like can’t get out of a tight spot,” the same young man said. “Or could it be that this fight isn't so fair and square?”

“You think?” the girl said, looking straight ahead as she put a finger to her plump and florid lips. “If that’s so, then why hasn’t the match ended yet?”

“That’s because his opponent keeps pitifully running from place to place.”

“I wonder why Verne can’t corner an opponent who so clumsily keeps running away.”

The young man wanted to say something in return but kept his mouth shut. As he watched, he noticed that Orba wasn’t outright retreating, but kept circling around his opponent while maintaining a fixed distance. And it looked like Verne was no longer able to attack and pursue his opponent so hastily either.

Probably because he lost his temper, Verne put all of his strength into tossing another blow. The iron ball flew past Orba’s shoulder and – although it seemed obvious to the bystanders that this was like a golden opportunity – he only returned a slight thrust with his sword, while once again taking his distance.

“Get serious!”

“Stop messing around!”

The audience stopped laughing and started jeering down at the arena. Not only at Orba, but also at Verne who didn’t seem able to take down his constantly fleeing opponent.

“You bastard!” Verne howled.

When he tried to rush at Orba diagonally, the girl suddenly raised her voice, “Ah!”, in surprise.

Orba, who had until now only retreated backwards, suddenly started to pitch forward. Stopping in his tracks, Verne, too, took the opportunity to strike another blow.

Orba tilted his body wide to the right, avoiding the iron ball and, as he rotated on his left toe, flashed his sword in a diagonal uppercut. The moment the chain got cut apart, a strange, clear sound echoed throughout the arena, then Orba twisted his body again and swung his sword downward with the force of a thunderbolt.

Verne’s cranium was split in two and the giant collapsed soon after.

“M-Magnificent!” the orator cried.

However, because it had happened so swiftly and came with such an unexpected conclusion, the audience was looking rather flabbergasted. Although the awkward silence wrapped around the arena, the victor didn’t seem to care either way and headed up to the stake, and, borrowing the hands of a number of slaves to lift it from the ground, used his sword to cut the ropes that kept the woman bound.

With a shout of delight, she joyfully clung onto his neck, only to be pushed away with a confused look on her face as Orba immediately started to return to his gate.

The girl in the special seat – she had also been staring agape at the sudden fall of the curtain – slowly began to form her lips into a smile. That gladiator named Orba didn’t seem aware of the audience at all. As if stating the only reason he was here today was to fight, and to kill as he was told.

“He… took out Verne.”

“With one blow.”

After that moment of silence, voices praising Orba began to raise little by little. Now that the mood had grown uneasy for the visitors, slowly the clapping of hands, the awkward stamping of feet, and cheers appropriate for a victor started to fill the stands. Then, almost at the instant the arena had returned to the state it was supposed to be in, the air shook heavily.

It was the roar of the Sozos Dragon.

It might have been the drug wearing off, or an instinctive reaction to the smell of blood, but all of a sudden it started swaying its enormous body from right to left, shattering a portion of its cage. One of the slaves who’d been in the process of towing everything away, was caught and raised from the head by the dragon’s claw. Before he could resist, his torso disappeared into the Sozos’s mouth.

There was the sound of breaking bones. And at the same time as the awful sound of salivated chewing could be heard, the arena grounds were suddenly filled with screams. In the midst of all the fear and panic that rapidly swept over the area, the Sozos rather calmly stretched out its limbs further and emerged from the broken cage.

Being pulled along into the crowd that strived to be the first to escape, the young man from earlier almost fell to the floor. But then, he was pulled along by a hand from the side.

“This way. Hurry!”

It was one of the soldiers who’d been guarding the special seats. As he rattled around with a sword and gun, he tried to bring the young man back inside.

“W-Wait. Ineli’s…”

Although he tried to resist, he couldn’t move freely as he kept being jostled by the crowd of people trying to escape. Then, he heard a suspiciously familiar, high-pitched scream. Right in front of the Sozos’s forepaws beyond the dividing wall, was a figure that belonged to no one other than Ineli. The girl had turned a pale colour as she had tumbled over from the gallery, and it looked like she was about to lose consciousness any minute.

The dragon’s long snout opened from top to bottom. As the rows of tusks, similar to sharp pointed swords, opened up, they formed long threads of slaver. The young man was about to involuntarily avert his eyes, when a thin streak of blood spouted from the Sozos’s neck. The gladiator arena’s employed guards had rushed in with guns. However, because they were close to the seats, they could only shoot at point-blank range, and from the way they stood, they hardly had the nerve. While they were conflicted at what to do while it approached, the Sozos turned around quickly and hit them with a single blow of its tail, fully sending several people flying.

The girl had sank down to the floor, her eyes opened wide looking at her surroundings.

Then, from those eyes, she saw.

There was a shadow that ran past the Sozos’s flank like a gust of wind. Just before it came up against the brick wall that divided the seats from the ring, the shadow kicked against it and soared up into the air. A man with a tiger-imitating iron mask jumped into the girl’s sight, the figure of Orba the gladiator landing on top of the Sozos’s head.

Even though she had just witnessed him running up to the Sozos from behind while the dragon was distracted by bullets, she couldn’t suddenly believe it.

Despite Orba’s slim body, his joints and muscles seemed to fortify his arms like steel as he grabbed a firm hold of the dragon’s neck. While further sandwiching its neck between his legs, he held on tight with one arm and, with his other, brought his sword down into the head.

It swung its long tail around, rocked the ground by stamping its feet, but the dragon still struggled, not able to shake off the gladiator, as it shook off a second and a third attack tearing through scales that were equal to an iron armour, and flesh and blood got splattered around. However, although the sword broke when it came to the fourth attack, at that time the other gladiators rushed in.

“Orba!”

Receiving a thrown sword from a brown-skinned swordsman, Orba once again raised it for a fifth attack, following the exact same process as earlier, until he fully caved the middle of the blade into the crown of the dragon’s head.

Its golden eyes goggled longingly at the skies. Just before its huge body sunk from the neck, the swordsman had swooped down next to the guest seats.

The girl, still kneeling on the floor, was looking up at him. It was almost as if he came from a tale, for she felt like a princess caught by an evil wizard, and although she fixed her eyes on him with a throbbing heart, of all things, the would-be-hero gladiator continued his walk, completely ignoring her, and nimbly jumped off the dividing wall and back into the ring.

There was still a cloud of chaotic fear hanging over the arena as he showed her his back and took his leave, but rather than drifting the air of a victor, he looked more like a solitary figure that could hardly endure the stares on him.

“A-Are you okay?”

She turned her eyes to the young man she had brought with her, who came running up to her with bated breath, and suddenly got an odd sensation. She had only seen it with a passing glance earlier, but the eyes underneath that swordsman’s mask seemed to closely resemble those of the young man.

And there was yet another man who focused a long look at Orba’s back, surprised for another reason.

“No way, he is alive.”

He wiped the sweat from his slightly slacking chin with the back of his hand. Standing behind the young man’s back - he was also one of the men who’d been at the special seats - he was speaking to himself in wonder as the unique smell of blood drifted about.

“Orba was his name? Two years... Two entire years, huh.”

=== Part 2 ===

“Two years.”

The gladiator, Orba, staring down the lurking darkness, suddenly murmured those words in his mouth.
Although only ‘two years’, in this line of work, it had been full of hardships, blood, and corpses. How many times had he struggled for his life, only to have both his feet chained at the end, spend the night in the slave pens, where his only pastime was to train all morning in order to keep living as a sword-slave? And then there’s another fight.

No one, except Orba, expected him to be able to live through more than five battles. Two years ago, when Orba first set foot in the arena, he’d still been fourteen years old. His body had been even thinner than it was now, and he’d hardly been able to handle the weapons.

However, at the moment of truth, he’d survived. He brandished the weapon held in his hands, chosen from one of the few weapons he was able to wield, to the limits of his power. He only knew how to fight by recklessly charging in. As he gained experience, his skill, the thickness of each of his muscle fibres, the mastery of new weapons, as well as the opponent’s corpses he stepped over, increased every time he emerged from another fight.

And so, two years passed. Orba didn’t know whether that was a long or a short time. Sometimes, he thought he was a considerably old person, but he also felt like a youngster at times who still didn’t know anything at all about battles.

Anyway, maybe it simply had to do with the fact, that he had not been blessed with the opportunity to see his own face. Lying face up, he was still wearing the same iron mask he wore in the battle ring. Because it had never been removed those two years, the other sword-slaves belonging to the same Tarkas Gladiatorial Group had no way of knowing his true face.

“Get up, slaves! You hate wakin’ up? Then get ready for your worst day yet!”

When morning came, another day for the slaves began. The one in charge of training the sword-slaves, and the slaves’ main supervisor, was Gowen, who drove everyone from their bedrooms and made them start cleaning the accommodations.

When that was finished, taking care of the lions, serpents, boars, tigers and the like – the animals that were used in the arena – was waiting. In particular, taking care of the dragons was hard work. Even taking care of the small- and medium-sized dragons was too much for a single person to handle, but taking care of the large-sized Sozos dragons was far worse. While it was expected for slaves to die by the sword, many had also been crushed underfoot by these dragons that were purposefully trained not to grow accustomed to humans.

Orba set foot in the vast dragon’s abode, which was much larger than the slaves’ dwellings – far from it – and resembled a castle courtyard, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed the back of a woman.

She was Hou Ran. One of the other slaves ordered to feed the dragons, she was directly touching the dragons’ scales. Of course, the dragons’ legs and necks were wrapped in chains, as it was not necessary to carry out yesterday’s example, but that was by no means an absolute guarantee. At a distance that would even cause a gladiator to hesitate, greeting each dragon one by one, she gently touched their scales with her fingers.

“Orba.”

Calling out his name, she quickly turned around.

“So I’ve been found out.”

“I’ve been told by the ‘voice’ of the dragons.”

Ran smiled. She seemed truly unsuitable in an all-men, not to mention savage, sword-slave detention camp, and Orba still hadn’t gotten used to her defenceless smile.

Her skin like polished ebony, combined with hair that seemed to have turned pale, gave off a mysterious charm. Originating from the Dragon God worshipping nomads that roamed in the western mountains of Mephius, despite her primarily reclusive kin, Ran had exceptionally been brimming with curiosity, secretly boarded one of her tribe’s caravan wagons and came over to the outside world. Because she never told him exactly what had happened after that, he did not know when Tarkas hired her, and how she could take care of the dragons single-handedly like this.

“Do these guys know my name?”

“Their ‘voices’ come like images into my head. They all know your face, Orba. You’re liked by the dragons.”

While it appeared idiotic, in fact, it seemed like her pupils, clearly giving the impression of being deep under the sea, held some kind of intelligence lost to civilized men. From the other side of the fence, the small-type dragons were poking out their snouts and snapping at him.

“It doesn’t look that way,” Orba said with a thin smile.

At the time Orba turned up two years ago, Hou Ran was already at the detention camp. Back then, although she didn’t make direct eye contact with the others employed by Tarkas, she didn’t even open her mouth to him.

Whether there were difficulties with Ran seeing his true face through her eyes, or listening with her voice, soon became the target of bets among the sword slaves short of entertainment.*

But, one time, Ran was about to be roughed up by a new sword-slave who’d recently come into the camp. Orba just happened to pass by and had beaten him up, and ever since then Ran had at least been able to speak to him a bit.

“I heard you were attacked by a Sozos at Ba Roux.”

“''I'' was the one who attacked the Sozos,” he emphasized. “It suddenly started getting violent.”

“Even with drugs, it’s useless to imprison its heart by force. If I had been the one supervising it, such a thing would have never happened.”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 035.jpg|thumb]]

She bit her lips, but it was not because she was concerned about Orba or the visitors. With the figure of a girl patting the nape of a medium-sized Baian dragon in the corner of his eye, Orba finished his own work and left the dragon’s abode behind him.

After feeding the animals and cleaning was done, it was time to tend to their weapons. Because they left their own lives in their care, they carefully did them one by one. Whenever they handled weapons, about ten guards in full armour acted as supervisors. Naturally, they were there to make sure none of the sword-slaves tried to revolt.

Then, after being excused for a meal of bread and soup – the survivors of yesterday’s gladiator matches were treated meat and fruit as a reward – they each began their training at the start of noon. Just like when they’d been tending the weapons, there were armed soldiers on the lookout, but this time, the chains that connected both feet were taken off.

Sword-slaves that lasted over two years like Orba were extremely rare. Lives were lost one after another, and new faces always appeared again on the next day. Gowen tirelessly taught them the step work of how to hold a sword or how to handle a gun, and trained them thoroughly until they were fully prepared.

Orba also had some of the newcomers as opponents. Sometimes they clashed swords, just like in an actual fight, and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to part with a limb or lose his life in the midst of training..

Today, there weren’t any casualties. But that did not have to mean they were lucky. The next day may hold an even more miserable fate, and grislier deaths may be awaiting for these gladiators.

When all the faces of the sword-slaves had turned dark, their skin wet with sweat and covered in dust, , Orba moved to the fence separating the training grounds from an aisle on the other side, and caught sight of Tarkas’s figure.

Saying “At ease!” at the newcomer, Orba rushed up towards him.

Also noticing the masked man, Tarkas stopped in his tracks. There was a feeling of distrust slipping through his sagged cheeks.

“What is it, Iron Tiger? Ahh… good job yesterday.” He had a look on his face as if he just now remembered he forgot to feed his pet dog. “Verne was quickly becoming a well-known gladiator. The other gladiator troupe started talking about wanting to pit him against you. ‘Can’t we earn back all the money we invested in Verne that way?’ – don’t try that sarcastic bullshit on me. Well, I suppose I feel a bit grateful as well. And killing that Sozos—”

“Tarkas, how much longer do I have to continue winning?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s been two years already. I’ve kept winning all the time. How many times do I have to be the ‘main event’ like yesterday. Isn’t it about time you take these chains off of my feet?”

Sword-slaves, all of them, were each exchanged on a contract when bought by a merchant. Although Tarkas it seemed to handle it quite vaguely.

“Don’t think I can’t read. Even a slave should have the right to look into my contract. I’ve been waiting here, Tarkas. I should’ve been allowed to leave a long time ago.”

As Orba spoke right in front of him, Tarkas sharply put a squinting look in his eyes.

“So, where do you plan to go? Surely you can be released from my hands, but you’ll still be a criminal. You don’t have the money to pay off your remaining prison term. Or maybe you want to work in the Shaga Mines along the western border? Poisonous gases, wild man-eating beasts, human-hunting Geblin tribes, and – of course – extremely miserable and rigorous labour. If it’s the same hell, or if you think you may have it better off here, hurry up and get back to your training. And don’t ever speak to me like an equal, until you’ve become a full-fledged swordsman that earns his pay.”

Thrusting his thick finger in Orba’s face, Tarkas quickly took his leave, heading for his office. Behind him, unfamiliar faces followed suit. Considering this was a place where legs were tied up in chains, they were probably newly procured slaves.

Orba was silent. His eyes were teeming with rage however, but Tarkas’s words weren’t lies either. Concerning Mephian law, you can basically either sell your life or go to prison.* Like the Mines of Shaga that Tarkas spoke of – should he apply for the country’s public service, accompanied by dangers, and sell himself off as a slave there?

Grasping the fence tightly in his hands, he lost all sense of feeling in his fingers before he knew it, Orba remained there standing in place.

“What are you doing, Orba!? Get back here!”

After finally being rebuked by Gowen, he went back to practice. As always.

A few hours after that, after washing their bodies with a cupful of water, it was time for their second meal of the day. Orba, rounding up his body like a hunchback in the corner of the dining hall, was almost grasping at his food. Like a habit, he couldn’t go through a meal without reading a book.

Then,

“Orba, good job yesterday.”

Another sword-slave, the one named Shique, nestled into his back, and Orba wildly shook him off with his hand.

“That ballchain Verne chap. When the match was decided, I didn’t know what to do. If you seemed to get into a huge disadvantage, I considered shooting him down from the outside.”

“Go away. Unless you want me to wound that smug face of yours.”

“Ooh, scary. But I wouldn’t mind any wound you give me, for it’ll become a bond between me and you.”

Even though it was hard, despite Shique’s chuckling behaviour, to make an accurate judgement on whether he was serious or making a joke, Orba didn’t socialize with him either way. The handsomely Shique had grown out his hair and even used make-up when it came to a gladiatorial battle. And just like that, because it seemed to further his degenerate good looks, he was tremendously popular among the female crowd. Even though the person himself was a self-styled, huge misogynist.

“However, I expected no less from you, Orba. Even without me lending you a hand, you managed to make a truly magnificent performance. Are you, both in name and reality, Tarkas’s top gladiator, I wonder?”

“I wouldn’t say it was magnificent.”

Gowen, the one in charge of training the gladiators, made his appearance. Although Orba showed plain the annoyance in his eyes as he sat down at the same table, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Although you did well, it’s a fact that it was also dangerous. When you broke in, your timing was still too hasty. It’s a bad habit of yours to take risks when you’re driven into a corner, only if even by a bit. You should spend more time putting an effort into ensuring your predominance. Although Verne was a brilliant swordsman, he wasn’t the type to target his opponent’s weak points. But a more observant opponent could easily see through your quick temper, and sweep you off your feet.”

He was a grey-haired man in his mid-fifties, but he still had a stout and tanned body, and the peering glances he gave the sword-slaves were filled with intensity.

“His opponent was that Verne, though. That guy was, curiously enough, in perfectly good shape,” a new voice called out, belonging to Tarkas Gladiatorial Group’s number one giant, Gilliam.

He had been in the same arena as Orba and Shique the day before, carrying a battle-ax on his shoulder, and with that the three strongest sword-slaves were gathered together. With long auburn hair in as much disorder as possible, his face, grinning with clenched teeth, had a look as intimidating as that of a wild lion.

“When I heard you had to go against Verne, I honestly thought you ran out of luck. Well, you don’t have bad skills. But, as usual, you still don’t know what it means to be a gladiator. It’s worthless if you win gracelessly. It won’t satisfy the guests. The way you carelessly kept running from place to place and then suddenly decided the match with one blow was just not entertaining at all. You’ve got to hit them up front.”

For someone like a sword-slave, it wasn’t just about winning the match. You had to be popular, in short, make sure that a lot of visitors come to the see that gladiator alone. Plain gladiators, after finally having earned a pile of money, would be thrown before wild animals or dragons on their own, only to satisfy the sadistic tastes of their customers.

That was why the gladiators – every one of them – strove to hone their skills, and also tried to appeal to the audience with flashy personalities in order to survive. Some decorated their body with gaudy armours, some made a show out of dragging out their opponent’s heart after their demise, while others inked their bodies with mysterious tattoos.

As for Shique, he dramatically claimed to be ‘a descendent of and ancient royal dynasty’.

“This time, go against me, Orba. I’ll teach you what it is to fight for real.”

“Not interested.”

“Haha, are you afraid of me?”

“Oh, I am. I’m scared. So, get lost.”

“You bastard!”

As Orba continued eating his meal in his usual stooped behaviour, Gilliam pushed him in the back.

“Stop it!” Gowen commanded.

If there was a disturbance, the soldiers belonging to the gladiatorial group would rush in, so for the time being Gilliam took his leave with a reddened face.

“Come to think of it, some strange newcomers have appeared,” Gowen said, after some time had passed, as if he suddenly remembered. It looked like he was talking about the ones Orba had seen too, trailing behind Tarkas back then.

“Strange? Like, with horns in their hair, and the bulge of a tail in the back of their pants?” a sword slave named Kain interfered.

He was a boy, the same age as Orba, who came to the detention facility a year ago and took after him. He wasn’t that great physically or with a sword, but he excelled in dexterity, especially when handling handguns or rifles.

“Or maybe a survivor from the Ryuujin<ref>Dragon people.</ref> Tribe, doesn’t that sound romantic?”

“Ryuujin, Geblin, or whatever type of person appears now, I probably wouldn’t even be surprised. This is a sword slave company after all, a trading place for all kinds of races.”

“It’s a much simpler story. I heard every last one of those guys hardly have any skill at the sword.”

“What…?”

Kain looked uninterested but stood on the tips of his toes.

“I mostly can’t believe Tarkas would have bought a bunch of good-for-nothings without a grumpy face. But he seemed in an unusually good mood.”

“Oh?”

“Certainly. For a master like Tarkas, whose eyes are always dazzled by the shine of gold, it sounds really strange, right?”

“Good mood? That guy?” Orba said, remembering the situation with Tarkas during the day.

“I’ve known him longer than you. The only times I’ve seen Tarkas in a good mood was when he got the chance to earn a huge amount of money.”

“Then again, I wonder if it’s nobles who came to visit. About an exhibition match, or something like that. Those newcomers could’ve also been nobles who were asking to be bought. Or maybe they’re political offenders who opposed the Mephius Empire. Could there be a request for them to be gruesomely fed to dragons in public?”

“There’s a strange intensity to your words, because I can’t read your face.”

“Anyway, where’s the new book? It’s been three months since I’ve asked for it.”

Losing interest in the conversation, Orba inquired about something else. The other guys had all started raising different topics among themselves. By tomorrow, they were likely to fight as opponents even if they were gladiators working for the same firm. The idea of deepening a friendship more than necessary had never been in Orba’s mind from the start.

“Ahh, it’s been purchased. It’ll be here tomorrow. However… although it seems a little late to say this, you’re a bit unusual too. Of the guys here, even those that can read and write letters, I doubt they’ve ever read more than a hundred in their life.”

Plucking at a skin of chicken, Gowen glanced over at Orba.

“Sometimes, even I’m almost driven with the impulse to tear off that mask. What’s the true face that lies underneath? There are times I think you’re only a young wild brat, and there are times the cool-headedness of a man who has survived many battlefields peeks through. Yesterday was like that. You took the appropriate actions against a Sozos without flinching.”

“Are you praising me or not?”

“I’m praising you. Other than taking up a sword and fighting for yourself, you calmly consider the circumstances. Although I think it may practically be better for leading types, you like books about history and people, get absorbed reading them late into the night and swallow their knowledge, and there’s also that quick temper of yours.”

When meeting him for the first time, basically from the time he was bought by the Tarkas company, Orba’s face had been covered by a mask. Ever since then, he hadn’t taken it off even once. Of course, everybody wanted to know why. They wanted to see his face. They wondered about his origins.

In the beginning, it worried Gowen that Orba met fists with them in response to their curiosity and suspicions. But when half a year had passed, he thought of the makeshift excuse that ‘a magician put a curse on it’ and after a year the teasing stopped, and soon nobody asked him about it anymore. Although some newcomers occasionally asked him about it, Orba was able to turn a blind eye.

“What do you gain from reading a book? At least, at the place where I was born and raised, you didn’t gain respect no matter how many books you owned.”

“It sounds like you’ve been raised by ape men or Geblin.”

“Watch your language, Orba. I think I’m especially kind to you considering the circumstances. If it doesn’t matter to you, I too can adopt that same attitude.”

Behaving like a man who couldn’t understand a joke was one of Gowen’s beloved habits. Orba revealed a stifled smile, but the deep-wrinkled, sword-slave training official unexpectedly gave a serious look.

“As a sword-slave, normally, you only try your best to survive for the day. Some go back out into this corrupted world, but there are some people who are content being a sword-slave for the rest of their life, because they can’t live without committing yet another crime – although, for most, their ‘whole life’ would probably be very short – but, you’re different. You, at least, do not get absorbed in the killing and focus on the future. After that, I always think: Hey, what should I say to such a man? Should I tell him to throw away a future like that? When it’s only hard, even if you hold onto it with such devotion? Or should I tell him to seriously hold on to that hope? Because it will be the strength for him to live this through?”

“Did you secretly drink some alcohol, gramps? You’re talkative.”

“I’m being serious.”

Gowen stubbornly shook his head. Orba decided he had truly gotten drunk. Usually, Gowen wouldn’t have remained silent after being called ‘gramps’.

“Who is it that you fight? The other sword-slaves, yourself, or do you even have a purpose?”

“I don’t know.”

Scuffing his words like a boy, Orba turned away his face. He didn’t want his inner feelings to be seen, where he was trembling like as a child.

Finishing his meal, Orba quickly left the dining hall. Although the sword-slaves could walk about freely, there was nothing but the dining hall and the bedrooms at the detention camp. It was called a bedroom, but it wasn’t much different from a stable to keep livestock. As he lay down in a corner, Orba stared at his own hands.

It had been two years since then. Even today, he could remember it so well. And if he hadn’t confirmed it himself, those ‘two years’ would’ve been no more than a number. For two years, Orba had barely stayed alive, surrounded by the smell of blood, guts, and iron.

However, he killed, survived, did it all over again, and what was the point in all of that?

Orba turned over on the floor. He had already grown accustomed to the feel of his hard mask touching the ground. It was as Tarkas said. Even if he was freed from being a slave, he didn’t know more of how to live the ‘clever’ way of life, but it seemed that Gowen had misunderstood something – he was not waiting with hopes for a future like that. Supposing he did…

Under the thin shadow formed by fangs, Orba tightly gnashed his teeth.

''If I do live through this, then what do I do?''

It was decided. He was tired of doing things over and over in the arena, the massacres, the blood, the fights, killing each other. On the way back, he was never able to think of things like ‘it’s okay’ or ‘it’ll get easier’.

An inexplicable anger was stuck in the glitter of his eyes, on the other side of the mask.

''I’ll get it back. I’ll take it back. And for the ones who took it away from me, even though it is not enough, I will have them fully taste the pain of the agonizing cries from all the people I’ve killed these past two years.''

=== Part 3 ===

“So you’re here, Orba?”

Roan suddenly showed his face.

Orba, who had been looking up at the night sky, rudely averted his eyes. As a punishment for neglecting to take care of the animals and play instead, his mother had taken away his supper, and now he was just outside the barn, sulking on his own. His face, as well as both knees he buried his face in, was full of scratches.

“Did you have another fight?”

“Not really.”

The quick-tempered Orba often quarrelled with the other children in the neighbourhood. Swinging around a wooden sword, he even went as far as the neighbouring village to pick fights. The villagers that caught sight of his figure, almost falling forward as he raced through the fields, half-jokingly said,

“Oh, Orba’s doing his best again,” as they waved their hands and watched over him.
Of course, after having his fights, his mother scolded him to no end.

“Why don’t you follow your brother’s example,” was the same thing she always said.

His older brother was able to do anything. In the old days, he looked through a single book their father brought back when coming from the city for several times, and from that alone he was able to memorize reading and writing letters by himself. He also learned how to do numbers at a very young age. Around the time he turned ten, after begging a merchant from the city to take him in as an assistant, he was also supporting his poor family’s living expenses.

Orba on the other hand, although he’d learned reading and writing letters from his older brother, was terrible at doing numbers, and above all, he didn’t know what to do with his boiling hot blood.

Almost every night, he spent sleepless hours staring at the ceiling. His blood was always screaming in the dark. After fist fights and such, the prickling pain of his injuries seemed to overflow with the hotter, more painful black blood from deeper inside, and it felt as if it would simply jump out into the open.

At those times, he’d jump to his feet and go outside. And he’d pick up his wooden sword that was leaning against the barn. No matter how many times it had been confiscated by his mother, he always made a new one from scratch. It wasn’t uncommon, either, for him to swing around his sword until the break of dawn.

“It’s okay if you get into fights,” Roan said, sitting down next to Orba. “But you have to help mother out properly. Working as a single woman is very hard. You know that too, right?”

Along the southern border of the Mephius Empire, was a place commonly known as Drought Valley. It was a naturally formed valley in Mephius where the river dried out, but there was a poor village, after all not even the name was written down on maps, where Orba had grown up.

Orba didn’t have many memories of his father. He passed away when he was two or three. While he’d been engaged in additional construction work for Apta Fortress, that protected the border south of the village, his father had unluckily fallen victim to a cave-in while he’d been digging through the cliff. Cutting through the valley’s steep cliffs instead of creating houses or buildings was an everyday occurrence in Mephius, and his father had been such a construction worker.

“Father was a man born only to dig a dark hole in the ground.”

He remembered that, one day, his mother had said those words in a tone that was neither complaining nor at grief. With that said, his mother too, was a person who had no pleasure in always working hard from morning till evening, every day. She ploughed the barren fields, sold clothes of her native people and towels she made by hand at the City of Apta once every month, and made the nearly tasteless stew for the young brothers every day without ever getting tired of it.

Orba too, also passed through life without change or colour, but his only pleasure was when his brother came back home for a break, two or three times a month, and brought along many different books.

Books written about the Old World where humankind once left its nest, books about Magic King Zodias, and, above all, historical novels with colourful illustrations or heroic stories, got Orba fully absorbed into them. Brave heroes swinging their swords to rescue a country full of dangers, beautiful maidens in thin clothes that were imprisoned in tall towers, vicious dragons revived from ancient ruins — things he’d never experience in a lifetime and the many dazzling adventures in those worlds made Orba engrossed, and whenever he closed a book, being back in that small, miserable reality surrounding him only made him despair.

“You know, aniki<ref>Familiar/honorific way of saying ‘older brother’.</ref>,” Orba said, burying his head in his arms and holding it with his hands. “I feel like doing something more.”

“You’re not even ten years old, are you? Worrying about such things doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m being serious. Look at all the adults here. Even I’ll become like that within another few years. Day after day, you work and work, but life won’t get any easier. I’ll marry someone sooner or later, a child gets born, and if the child’s an ‘unruly boy’ like me, one day he’ll surely say he wants to go to the city, be a soldier for Mephius, or ride a Garberan airship, and I’ll say something like, ‘Oh, in the old days, your father also held onto dreams like that’, and then I’ll probably laugh along with the other adults while drinking my tea.”

“Everyone’s like that,” Roan laughed, bathing in the pale moonlight.

Around this time, you could always hear singing voices coming from the house on the other side of the road. Listening to the cheerful voices of men who got drunk, although he wasn’t really paying attention, he said,

“Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. There are people who can’t live without working hard every day, people who sail over violent waves by boat, old philosophers who’ve buried themselves in thousand-year-old books, priests of Badyne who will preach their truth to numerous believers, many renowned generals who soar through the skies in dragonstone ships, and even country leaders who’ve subdued many territories at their feet. What they do in a day may be surprisingly different, whether they wet their swords with blood, drown in the letters of the alphabet, or even chant the name of God, but I think even they can’t provide you with an answer.”

“They, too, will think our aspects are hopeless. Like the king who’s surrounded by luxuries I wouldn’t have the money for within a lifetime, and eating his stomach full with delicious food every night. He sometimes takes a large army on a campaign, or gets shocked by betrayal, but every day he’s alive. I’ll never be able to. Neither the king nor the nobles, can even imagine what’s inside our dreams. Those people… Yes, take this night for example, they don’t even seem to be looking up at the same moon as I.”

“I wonder. It could be that, exactly because the king spends every day like that, he may sometimes feel a yearning to spending his life out in town. Maybe, to get away from the constraining life in the imperial court, he wants to go out to a sour-smelling bar sometimes and drown in cheap wine, listening to ridiculous stories, disgusted that, every day, he cannot relax his guard, not even for blood relatives. And he’ll probably think, ‘Ahh, wouldn’t it be easy to just go through life breaking a sweat*, with no more worries about being targeted?’”


“That’s just a delusion. You mean he’s yearning for a life like ours? Just because he doesn’t know the difficulties and insecurities of such a life, he’ll only think of it on a whim.”

“Exactly. Isn’t that what I said? There isn’t a human being anywhere who understands everything, knows what he really wants, or knows who he truly is. I think everybody longs for what they don’t know, what they have not experienced, and they’re also looking for wherever there their true course may lie. In this sense, they’re no different from us.”

“I don’t know. Then, you mean even the king, even the great priest, is someone who’s not completely satisfied?”

But when his brother was about to answer,

“Why are you talking about such difficult things?”

Suddenly Alice appeared, swaying her dark brown hair slightly. It was then that they noticed the singing voices from the house across had completely stopped. It looked the girl had finally come to put them to sleep.

While she seemed to have overheard just a little, Alice showed a dimpled smile,

“In the end, it’s nothing but pointless stuff. In this world, no matter where you’re from, first of all, Orba, you have start by taking care of your mother and work earnestly, so that you can get to eat tomorrow.”

“Hear that, aniki? When they’re not interested in the conversation, women immediately find it difficult, insignificant, or have more important things to do.”

“That, too, is the truth,” Roan laughed merrily.

Alice was two years younger than his brother and three years older than Orba. And when Orba was even younger, they played as if Alice was a sister among the three.

Soon after, they enjoyed talking about memories of those days. When, by Alice’s suggestion, they went fishing at the river, and that same Alice nearly drowned as she slipped on the rocks. Or the time they went to see the caravan’s horses as it arrived at their village, and Orba got into trouble secretly trying to mount one. Or when, because a boy from the nearby village said he ‘saw a wild dragon’, the three went to the rumoured place and got completely lost on the canyon’s intricate path. Although they finally did come home late, all three had to suffer though a good scolding…

“Anyway, wasn’t it because Doug from that village deceived us? Ever since that time, you’ve had a bad relationship, right? Even your opponent from today’s fight……”

“Shut up.”

The nail hitting him right on the head, Orba turned away his face. Although the reason he picked a fight with Doug was all because of Alice, he never spoke of it.

However, as they laughed and reminisced together like that for the entire evening, it was the last time he spoke with his brother in peace.

In those days, the Imperial Dynasty of Mephius and the Kingdom of Garbera were already at war with each other. It was said the Garberan cavalry recently crossed their border, although the two countries had a history of repeated conflict for some time, concerning the very definition of that border. The southern Apta Fortress, which was close to Orba’s village, had also suffered from attacks by Garbera’s mounted troops on many occasions.

Eventually, Garbera temporarily gave up on capturing Apta Fortress, and aimed for striking them by another route. And that was by setting up a trap. Targeting them when the majority of the troops stationed in Apta had been pulled back to the imperial capital, they immediately drove them into an siege.

Naturally, Apta Fortress was forced to a desperate, defensive battle. As it soon turned into holding out until the reinforcements came from the imperial capital, the Mephian army forcibly commandeered soldiers from the surrounding villages. And Orba’s older brother Roan was also one of them.

Of course, his mother screamed, crying. If there was only one hope his mother worked for within her nearly colourless life, it was probably for his brother. Although she clung onto the soldier that tried to take away his brother, Roan gently placed a hand on her shoulder and said,

“It’s okay. Help will come from the imperial capital soon enough, so be patient until then.”

Besides, the pay was much better than that of a merchant’s assistant, he added with a laugh.

Orba, standing next to Alice, was seeing him off, watching the backs of several of the village’s youths crossing over the layers of rock.

''If I were just a little bigger'', Orba thought. ''I could go to the fortress instead of my brother. Then, mother would not have to be so sad either, and I may even receive a distinguished service among the soldiers.''

After his brother disappeared, his mother, who had always been so devoted to work, spent almost the entire day in prayer, as if something inside her completely snapped. Although she sometimes remembered to stand in the kitchen and prepare a meal, when it came to the menu, she acted as if his brother Roan was about to return from the city, making only his favourite food. But when she recalled that he wouldn’t be at the dining table after all, his mother threw it all away in the backyard.

Meanwhile, Orba ploughed the neglected fields, and also took care of their few animals on his own. During the evenings, Orba would climb up a narrow road carved into the cliffs and always stare at the direction of the imperial capital, looking for rows of gorgeous armours, vast dust clouds from military dragons during their march, and the majestic figures of dragonstone battleships – but he never saw the sight he was hoping for.

And, when about three weeks had passed since his brother left, residents from a village beyond the valley, which was closer to the fortress than theirs, were bounding in, out of breath.

“The fortress has fallen!”

They came with the worst news.

Apta Fortress had fallen before the approaching Garbera forces. They said the commanders and main staff who guarded the fortress had started on the escape, leaving their soldiers behind. There were no reinforcements from the imperial capital at Apta, for they’d been sent to the natural stronghold of Birac, next to the ravine further to the north. So it seemed the imperial capital had already decided that that would be heart of the southern border’s line of defence. Apta had only been used to buy time.

And, concerning the land in between, the Garberan forces that were camped at the fortress, started ravaging the surrounding villages. There were acts of plunder and assault – raiding, so to speak.

The people of the village were in a hurry to gather their few belongings, although there was hardly any food with the harvest being near and they were limited to holding their own crops, and left the village in a rush. Those who had acquaintances in the vicinity hurried over there, while the people who did not, took a temporary refuge in the valley, until the Garberan soldiers left their village.

Obviously, Orba followed them, but in the midst of his escape, he noticed that his mother wasn’t around.

Startled out of his wits, Orba turned back to the village. Beyond the rocks towering over the area like hills, he could see the complete panorama of his village sinking behind the evening mists. Surely, she was still there. She was waiting for his brother to come back. For his brother, who may possibly never come back again.

“Orba, where are you going? Orba!”

As Alice’s voice called out behind him, he pushed the crowd aside and headed back in a hurry.

And when he managed to arrive at his destination, there wasn’t a single soul, the village had become as silent as death. Because he was familiar with the scenery, there was an eeriness as if he had wandered into another dimension instead.

From the other side of the valley, he could see a group of men and horses approaching, and Orba ran towards his house in a hurry. When he opened the back door, his mother was there. She was trying to prepare a meal as usual.

“Roan?” his mother said, turning around, but when her eyes fixed on Orba’s sweaty figure, she, miraculously, shrugged her shoulders. “Were you still playing, Orba? Just help me out a little, your brother will be coming home soon.”

Outside, sounds could slightly be heard of the voices of soldiers, chasing the animals that were left behind. Afraid of the smoke rising up, he hurriedly tried to stop his mother. However,

“What’s this, there’s nothing!”

“What a measly village. Even though those guys at Gascon had it better. It seemed they slept with all of the girls.”

“Isn’t there at least any alcohol? Go and look!”

As soon as he thought he heard those voices coming closer, the door was violently kicked down.

Three soldiers came in noisily, each of them equipped with a simple chainmail, lance, and sword. On their faces, blackened by dust clouds, only the eyes casted a unique white light.

“Oh, there’s a woman!”

“What, isn’t she too old? Besides, isn’t there any alcohol? Or something to eat?”

After staring at his mother, who was protectively holding the crouched Orba in her hands, they started vandalizing the house, doing as they pleased. Orba was crouching down completely, concealing his breath like a herbivore trying not to attract the attention of wild beasts.

When the Garberan soldiers smashed through the door, his eyes had caught sight of the wooden sword, which had been resting against it, rolling over the floor. But in the end, it was nothing more than a child’s toy. He hated being told that more than anything, and was more than eager to stare back at those kind of people, but now he understood it painfully.

Then, as the soldiers were ransacking through to the shelves, they grabbed the crude ceramic tableware from inside and carelessly tossed them aside. Making a loud sound, the broken pieces scattered over the floor. It took Orba by surprise, as they were the things his brother Roan used, and his mother, who had been submissive until now, rose up with such force that Orba got pushed aside. From there, she started clinging onto one of the soldiers’ back.

“Hey, what? What?”

“It looks like she wants to play with me!”

A red-faced soldier unwrapped his mother, turned her around, and pushed her down in place. He placed his hand in front of her mouth when she tried to raise a piercing cry, then took out a pointed knife hidden inside his chainmail, and thrust it before his mother’s pale face.

“Stop it, you’d take any woman, wouldn’t you?”

“The taste of a young lass is nice, but an old flower like her ain’t bad either.”

As he spoke his red face showed a vulgar smile, and the thread holding Orba’s tensed up feelings snapped. Raising an awkward cry, he charged in. It was a desperate assault, however, and he was easily blown back by a single arm.

Knocking the back of his head against the shelves, although stunned for a moment, Orba gnashed his teeth and immediately faced forward again. And, from the top of the shelf, there was something that fell down with a loud crash. It was something long and narrow wrapped in a bundle and, with the front part of it torn, it was emitting a silver shine before Orba’s eyes.

''This is…''

Hiding it by reflex, Orba hurriedly tore apart the bundle. As he’d expected, it was a shortsword about sixty centimetres long. The round pommel had Mephian-made characteristics. Matching its slender blade, the handle was also a little thin, fitting nicely into a child’s hand.

As he took a hold of it, several letters carved into the blade jumped into his eyes.

''O, R, B, A...''

It was only for an instant – with his mother’s screams, the sound of the red-faced soldier disorderedly throwing off his chainmail, and the noise of the soldiers laying waste to the house. Although the frightening surge of black blood boiled in his body, he drove it far away and, in that instant, the thoughts squeezed together guided him to an explanation.

The blade was engraved only with ‘Orba’. Of course, he hadn’t known such a thing was in his house. He didn’t think his mother or other acquaintances would’ve especially prepared it for him. For all he knew, couldn’t this be anything but a present from his brother Roan?

But Roan should’ve handed over the money he got for his services to his mother. Besides, a blade like this could not be purchased in ordinary towns. Most likely, after going to Apta Fortress, he got provided with weapons as a soldier, and he’d asked the blacksmith stationed at the fort to engrave his name.

And then, he left it with the caravan that went circled the fortress and the towns. But when it came to his house, his mother must have accepted it. Thinking, afterwards, that it shouldn’t be crossed over into Orba’s hands, she most likely intended to keep it from her son’s sight. She probably thought that it was too dangerous for Orba, or maybe she was afraid that Orba would go away like Roan if he had a sword in hand.

At any rate…

“Hey, what’s that you’re holding?” a soldier called out from Orba’s crouched back. “It looks like you’re holding something valuable. Hey, why don’t you show me?”

“This is mine!”

“That’s not for you decide, but for me. Now, give it here.”

The soldier ridiculing Orba put a hand on his shoulder trying to get him out of the way with force. It was more than enough.

''That’s right, Orba'', he responded to his own inner voice.

“I said, show me — gyahh!”

Turning around, Orba swung his sword downward. With blood spraying from the man’s shoulder, Orba slipped under the staggered soldier’s arm and raced towards the man who was bent over his mother.

The red-faced man tore his eyes away from his mother and jumped back. Quickly picking up his hand-axe, he then received Orba’s blow that was coming at him. Orba stood firm on both his legs and somehow tried to get his sword through, but still, the blade was short, and a child’s strength couldn’t push a hand-axe aside like that. However, instead of easily getting overmatched, Orba made himself fall to the side.

“That brat…”

He swung down another blow with murderous intent. Orba rolled over to the side. After doing one rotation, the axe’s edge bit down there, right in front of his eyes. In that very instant, his blood froze up,

“Stop!”

His mother was clinging onto the red-faced man’s feet. Flying into a rage, the man kicked at her hands, turned around, and raised his axe even higher. When Orba saw it, the tension of his black blood – the anxiety, irritation, rage and other various emotions that had simmering in the boy’s body for such a long time – was about to be released from one single point, as if it had only now taken its final shape.

He stood up. Holding his sword with both hands, he forced it under his arm and slammed it, along with the rest of his body, into the soldier’s defenceless back.

The man’s back, as he’d taken off his armour, first received the blade considerably easy. Then there was a little firm resistance, but it also went through smoothly as Orba’s pushed it through with both hands, until, in the blink of an eye, the point of his sword finally pierced through the man’s chest.

Because Orba was also being dragged while the red-faced man staggered, he hurriedly let go of the sword. The man clashed with his back against the wall. After turning around to face the triumphant Orba, he made his mouth flap open and close, probably trying to say some sort of grudge, and threw up a huge amount of blood as he sank to the floor, until his bright red tongue drooped out and he no longer moved.

“You bastard!” the soldier who had his shoulder cut shouted, grimacing in pain.

“You killed Douga. You lowly brat.”

The other also shouted in a loud voice, and came rushing over at Orba. No longer holding a sword, Orba received a full body blow and rolled over on the floor again. He got kicked in the stomach, and stepped on his back.

“Mother and child both, I’ll hang your heads under the eaves.”

Crawling on all fours, the tip of the sword was thrust before the nape of Orba’s neck. His mother too, was lifted up, twisted by the hand, and placed in the same position next to Orba. No matter how much he wrested his body with all his strength, he couldn’t get rid of the weight of the man standing on his back.

“Let me go!”

“Ahh, right away. After you’ve turned into a corpse, that is!”

Orba, raising a bestial cry, was suddenly hovering in the moment that came between life and death. With a whishing sound of wind being cut as it was brought straight down. Finally, he shouted out his brother Roan’s name, when,

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, the wind-cutting sound ceased. Orba, scrambled thoughts mulling in his head, realized it wasn’t his brother who’d appeared though.

The one who had newly come inside the house, was a Garberan soldier after all. However, unlike the soldiers that had broken in, he was armed all over his body, with not a single part untouched, and his armour too was shining in silver. He still had a young face.

For a short time the soldiers could be seen flinching from the intruder, but then,

“It is as you can see, Knight Apprentice Sir.”

“We’ve come to receive our fair reward after winning the battle. Just because you stood in distinguished service for a while, you’re clad as a knight after all, surely you haven’t come to stop such unrefined things like these, right?” the two explained grimly.

Feigning a courteous manner, there was clearly an air that they were making light of the man.

“Besides, look. Our comrade was killed. There’s no way soldiers with Garberan pride can let this go by without getting vengeance, right?”

The soldier who spoke tipped Orba’s body over at his foot, and established the sword’s aim with his other hand. What Orba’s eyes saw as he looked up at the ceiling, was the point of the sword, but then a single string of light came flashing from the side.

“What are you doing!”

“How pitiable. Vengeance, is it? You mean to say there’s any pride in that against a child?”

The armoured youth had drawn his sword. It seemed like the man had felled that one soldier, for Orba realized the sword that should’ve pierced through his heart had somehow been repelled the to the side. The other roared something in a hoarse voice nearby. It sounded like he’d called out the armoured man’s name, but Orba didn’t catch it at the time.

“Y-Your comrade… how dare you, bastard!”

“I don’t want to be called a comrade or such by inferior people like you.”

As he thrust out the blooded tip of his sword, the soldier stepped back.

“Inferior, you say? Even though you’ve got the same history. Just because you were blessed with the opportunity to make a distinguished service, you get carried away. Always chanting, knight, knight as if it’s your favourite word, but did you become a real knight? You don’t share a bloodline with the Garberan royal family, you’ll be an ‘apprentice’ your whole life. Know your place!”

Soon, the solider who seemed to be stepping back, quickly pulled something out from behind his back and brought it in front of him. It was a crossbow, fixed with a long and slender pedestal, and he released the trigger.

That instant, the armoured youth nimbly turned aside. Making a single spin, as if dancing, he narrowly avoided the arrow and decapitated the soldier’s head. There wasn’t the slightest hesitation. The decapitated head whirled through the air, struck the house’s wall and rolled over the floor.

“Garbera is a country of knights. Instead of further defiling its name, receive the honour of being killed in action.”

His handsome looks, his way of fighting, and those words he murmured – it was all as if a hero had emerged from the books Orba read all the time.

“Commander, what’s the commotion!?”

A voice was raised from the outside, but he replied with “It’s nothing,” as he wiped the blood from his sword.

“You’re a child of Mephius?”

Orba didn’t immediately know what was good answer to the question raised. It was not that he was especially conscious of the name of the country called Mephius, either. The people of Orba’s village, generally living in a world of only about ten kilometres surrounding the village, weren’t very interested in the country or its territorial disputes.

The man gave Orba a thin smile when he gave no answer, and glanced over at the soldier who’d sunk in a puddle of blood. Orba, his body suddenly freezing up, tightly held onto his mother’s shoulders. He started looking if there was any weapon within reach, when,

“Hurry and get away from here,” the young man said. “It was to protect your mother – right? You truly hold the spirit of a knight inside of you. Much more than the people of Garbera, who seem to have forgotten all about the knight’s way. Now, you may get out of here. I’ll try to stop the plunder and assaults as much as possible, but I can’t catch a hold on all of them.”

Those eyes, for some reason, resembled those of his brother Roan. Supporting the shoulder of his sobbing mother, Orba slowly faced the back door, then, pulling his mother by the hand, he ran away at full speed. A wintry wind blowing through the streets after sunset, struck his cheeks. Urging his mother, who kept muttering ‘Roan, Roan’, sometimes even shouting at her, they finally united with Alice and the village people after an hour.

After that, they followed behind Alice’s father and headed for a village that was fifteen kilometres upriver to the north.

Orba didn’t know if the young armoured man had been true to his words, but at least from there on the random plundering was no longer carried out around Apta, which later became the territory of Garbera.

However, the flames were still approaching the village that Orba and the rest had succeeded in running away to earlier.

There were hardly any signs. Suddenly, ‘they’ came at them in full force and immediately started plundering. They were men who were completely harnessed in black. Provisions, clothes, and of course money and goods, all the things of possible value were taken by force. The people, too, were no exception. As soon as they arrived at the village they took the women, and impaled any man who tried to resist with spears from atop their horses, decapitated their heads with swords, and exposed them to gunfire.

Amidst all of the confusion, Orba lost sight of his mother. Just when he stumbled forward with impatience and fright,

“Alice!”

He spotted Alice getting bound by a soldier with her arms behind her back. Even though she was about to be dragged away, Alice was still screaming at him to run away. Completely losing himself, Orba leapt forward. The feeling of killing that one person still remained in his hands. And now he’d decided to do the same thing. He reached out his hand for the sword the soldier was carrying.

But, the moment he took a hold of the handle, he received a strong blow to the back of his head. The sight flickered before his eyes, and his consciousness was soon about to fade. Just before it did, he had a feeling he heard Alice’s voice calling out his name.

When he came to, Orba was lying on his back, spread-eagled, on the ground. His head was throbbing painfully. His consciousness was still a little dim, and he wasn’t even sure if he was dreaming or not.

“General Oubary , what do you want to do?”

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard that voice. Amongst the screams of men and women nearby, and firing in the distance, Orba secretly peeked through half-opened eyes at the one who had been called out to earlier.

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 069.jpg|thumb]]
It was a man atop a horse, holding a bottle of liquor which he’d most likely stolen. He was lightly and stylishly dressed in armour, bald, and had the majestic air of a giant. Even though he had such an serious appearance, there was violet lipstick on his thin lips, giving the elevated, sneering figure a strange kind of look.

“If all the valuables are gone, set fire to the lot. Leave not a single grain of wheat behind for Garbera.”

Saying those words, the man called general threw away his bottle of wine. It splashed against Orba’s cheeks.

“Very well, this village was burned by Garbera. Let the soldiers be thorough. They can have the women, but kill them when they’re done with them. Don’t even sell them off. You will supervise.”

Shortly after that, the screams and shouts died out. Instead, a hot wind roasted his skin, and an acrid stench started filling the air. When he finally managed to stand up, his surroundings had turned into a sea of flames.

There wasn’t a single person left alive. Orba roamed about the village, calling his mother and Alice’s name in a loud voice, while brushing away sparks of fire at his hands. But the only things that came into his sight were the slaughtered bodies of the village people. The bodies of the elderly, women, and children.

''That Oubary…''

With the place scorched all over, Orba’s whole body had become dark red with the blood and soot falling from overhead.

''Isn’t that Oubary… Apta Fortress’s…''

He remembered hearing about it. When the fortress had urgently been recruiting soldiers, he was sure the military men that appeared in the village had spoken the name. He was the veteran general who had been entrusted with the protection of the fort.

So that meant this had been the Mephian army. After the fortress fell, the troops including Oubary went north, ahead of Garbera’s pursuing troops, and burned down the village where Orba and the others had escaped to earlier. And they’d taken all spoils of wars before going back to the capital, so that Garbera couldn’t make use of it.

''I’ll kill them'', Orba vowed.

Mustering up the strength from somewhere in his body, although there had not even been one drop left behind earlier, the power that kept him going forward, it came from his unrelenting vow with the intent to kill.

Although he had no clear answers on whether to kill Oubary, the Garberan soldiers, or the Emperor, and on how to achieve those ends, for now, he just kept on walking.

<noinclude>

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
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|-
| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter1

2013-05-21T21:42:55Z

Kiydon: Suggestion for change

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter1

2013-05-21T21:31:45Z

Kiydon: Grammar.

==Chapter 1: Iron and Blood==

=== Part 1 ===

The outcome was decided.

The amphitheatre of Ba Roux shook. The many spectators that were crowded together unanimously shouted out the victor’s name and stamped their feet, creating a racket that sounded much like a tidal wave.

While the winner was being bathed in the passionate and boisterous cheers, the one who had received the opposite fate lay motionless besides his feet. Eventually, the loser’s headless body was struck with a hook and dragged away by the hands of two slaves.

The sun was still glaring even though it was near evening. The spectators’ faces were covered with sweat and glittered brightly, as if someone smeared them with oil, and their eyes, too, were sparkling with bloodlust, as they anticipated the next fight to be yet another battle to the death. Whoever just won or lost didn’t stay on their minds for long. It was only the heat of battle that left an everlasting taste, stood in the air, and kept whirling around the arena.

“Go, go!”

“Do it, kill!”

Today was another success.Because the more virtuous people living in the city, for whom the admission fees were no more than about a child’s weekly allowance, were able to watch the games, over a thousand spectators were gathered.

The next match was a cavalry battle. Both men were armed with spears, emerging from the east and west gates, and crossed each other at great speed. At the second charge, one of the men got flung off of his mount and, as he scrambled to get up again, the other swiftly jumped off his own horse to give the finishing blow.

Up next were two barely clothed men, who started to grapple each other with their bare hands.

They were sword-slaves, or so-called gladiators. In compensation for doing these public, life-threatening battles, these people were granted a few days of their lives and the minimum amount of food required to get by. Some of them were already born as slaves, some had been thrown into the arena for committing crimes, and there were even those who had personally applied to cast themselves into this living hell.

But if gladiators got well-known enough to become veterans, they received a different kind of popularity from the crowd. One of them, named Shique, was a handsome gladiator who was popular among women and had just won the brawling match. He was strangely pretentious, bowing in a way much like a nobleman would, and notably, shrill voices rose from the crowd.

“Did you see that, brother? Shique just won!”
<ref> She actually calls him お義兄様 ‘ogikei-sama’, which, in this case, means he’s her step-brother. However, she pronounces it as ‘onii-sama’.</ref>

It was the voice of a girl yet in the more tender years of age, who was sitting in one of the grandstands among the front row seats. High pillars, that rose from the corners in the left and right, supported a roof that covered the stand. Only those who were able to pay a large sum of money were able to view the match from those special seats.

From the looks of it, the young man resting his chin on his hands next to her, whom she called ‘brother’, seemed to be dissatisfied. With a long cloth wrapped around his head, the ends dangling from both the left and right just like a believer of Badyne, it looked like he was concealing his face from the glances of people around him.

“Ahh, it is as you say,” he said. “The gladiator you had your eye on won. Now, isn’t that enough? Can we hurry and get something to eat? This place is giving me a headache.”

"But it is only beginning, is it not? Did the smell of blood sicken you? You, the successor of the lands of Mephius?"

“Watch your mouth.”

Not at all worried about the youth’s clear jumpiness, the girl gave a fickle laugh.

The next fight had already started, so the young man was forced to stay after all and rested his cheeks on his hands again with a bitter look on his face. How much blood had to be splattered around, and how many sweaty muscles did she have to see before getting tired of it?

He occasionally stole a sidelong glance at the young girl’s white skin and beautiful face. She had an innocence that matched her age, but a strange sensual and mature beauty as well – it was a view much more charming than that of the savage fight below.

Then, after about two battles, a new stage was being set in the arena. One huge stake got established in the centre, and a single woman was fastened to the top. She was a beautiful woman. Purposely made to wear torn clothes, each time she writhed in pain, her breasts and thighs swayed about while whistles came from the heated male audience.

However, the woman was in no position to be bothered with their obscene looks, for at the same time the stake got put up, a big cage with approximately the same height was being carried in.

Inside was a raging beast that was roughly seven or eight metres long. Its slimy, green scales were flickering in the sunlight. It was a large dragon. Bred through repeated selective breeding by humans, it was of a variety called ‘Sozos’ that Mephius also used in wars.

Its clenched, humongous teeth, and each of its claws extending from six legs, were just like sharp swords. Probably because it was drugged, it seemed to have a somewhat repressed ferociousness and dulled instincts, but being hit by that bulk would nevertheless cause serious injuries, and it looked like it could blow away the steel cage like a toy.

“Now then! Gathered ladies and gentlemen!”

Suddenly an orator standing on an elevation began to speak over a loudspeaker, eager to finish his speech before the beast broke out.

“Next, is the start of our programme. Once, the great dragons that established our culture roamed on the earth’s surface, but they were just the same as the bloodthirsty beast we look down upon now. There is no need to fear. We are the brave souls, the purest of minds, that took over from an era of space voyage. Not even by the dragon’s tusks and claws – not to mention its fearsome, terrible breath! – will we be outdone. Please, take a look at the evidence. Behold the figures of these brave men who challenge this dragon of old, this beast of a terrifying false god!”

From the eastern gate, a single gladiator stepped forward. In the man’s hands, who sported a muscular body, was an iron ball connected to a chain.

“Ballchain Verne!”

The audience’s cheers became even louder, for he was a gladiator could pride himself in being one of the most famous fighters in Ba Roux. The man was about in his mid-thirties with dark skin, and he responded by waving a hand to the ladies and gentlemen in the audience. Then,

“It’s the Tiger!”

“Look, Iron Tiger Orba!”

A swordsman, also alone, walked out, but from the western gate.

"How eccentric," the young man commented on the steel blue mask that was covering gladiator’s face. As if imitating a tiger, small fangs protruded up from the lips, leaving only a small space for the mouth of this man named Orba underneath. Cut out into two splits were openings where the tiger’s eyes would’ve been, but naturally it was only Orba’s eyes peeking through. And, despite a tiger normally having rounded ears, the mask had pointed ends at both sides instead – it was almost as if horns were coming out from the corners.

However, that was all; he had no other outstanding character features. In comparison with Verne, he had an almost feeble body build, and he only held a simple, common longsword in his hand.

The spectators started ridiculing him, saying,

“Look at his thin body. Just one hit of the ballchain will completely smash him up!”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 022.jpg|thumb]]

“They say he took off Meier the Baron’s head at the Arena of Tidan after only two strikes. Let’s see him do the same to our Verne. Go on then!”

“This Iron Tiger Orba,” the girl said, as her cheeks blushed with excitement. “Isn’t this his first appearance in Ba Roux? But he seems to be famous. Do you know of him, brother?”

“How should I know?”

“My, what a cold reply. Fine, if you’re so bored with being here, why don’t we have a little bet on this game? Maybe it’ll end up getting you a little interested.”

“A wager, is it? For what, and how?”

“Simple. Of those two about to fight, who do you expect to win?”

“That’s stupid. How’s that even a bet? Even I know the name of that Verne guy. And his physique is way better. Even an amateur can see that. You're just trying to rip me off, betting on the clear victor yourself, aren't you?”

“My, you’re a difficult customer! But that’s fine. You can just sulk away like that as long as you like. And I even thought of bringing you along so you could have a little distraction. But I got it, I understand – you hate spending time with Ineli. If that’s the case, I will never invite you again, don’t worry!”

The girl stiffly turned away her face, as the young man panickingly stopped resting his chin on his hands.

“W-Wait. I was wrong,” he said. “I’ll bet on that masked swordsman. That’s what you want, right?”

“No. Ineli decided to bet on that swordsman first. You can take Ballchain Verne, brother.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because I like him.”

''Even though you can't see his face?'' – was what the young man was about to say, but he stopped himself in time. He couldn’t afford to displease her even more.

“Now then,” the orator said, raising his voice again. “Will Orba or will Verne take up the role of the hero and set that woman free? Or will these rivals be fighting in vain, as the cage breaks and this poor, beautiful lady ends up in the dragon’s stomach?”

From there on, the two swordsmen would battle, and the winner would rescue the woman – or, as the orator stated, ‘a certain third daughter from a ruined country’ – from the dragon’s clutches, and also earn a night of love-making. Or so the scene was set out to be.

The two men both stepped forward at the same time. As they approached each other, the lack in Orba’s physique became all the more apparent. Verne spoke in a voice that could be heard by those in the front row seats.

“So, you call yourself a tiger, huh? I’ve heard your name. But, there’s nothing more unreliable than a rumour. You can try to hide your face, but I can see the skin underneath. You’re still young, just a kid.”

Ballchain Verne’s thick lips, in proportion to the rest of him, bended into a smile.

“I’m sure the mask is just a bluff so people won’t make fun of you. You’re not a tiger, you’re just a mangy cur! I’ll teach you what a real man’s battle truly is all about!”

Facing Verne, who was loudly laughing at his shoulders, Orba didn’t reply. Probably assuming his nerves were blown away, Verne gave a sneering look, took up a defensive stance, and slung the ballchain over his shoulder.


“Start!”

There was a pointed signalling voice, but it halfway disappeared into the further increasing sound of the audience’s cheers. In an instant, Verne made his move.

He wielded the iron ballchain with all his strength. At first, the masked swordsman was about to rush in, but, as if panicked by his sheer force, he quickly stepped back. There was a small spark as the iron ball chafed against the mask. It was enough for Verne to take pursuit of the stumbling Orba. The huge iron ball, which was much larger than a human head, approached with the howling of the wind, and Orba continued to avoid it by stepping back.

He rolled over the ground, excessively jumped aside, and finally bustled about by making an evasive gesture – which invited laughter from the spectators.

“Look at that, it seems the swordsman you like can’t get out of a tight spot,” the same young man said. “Or could it be that this fight isn't so fair and square?”

“You think?” the girl said, looking straight ahead as she put a finger to her plump and florid lips. “If that’s so, then why hasn’t the match ended yet?”

“That’s because his opponent keeps pitifully running from place to place.”

“I wonder why Verne can’t corner an opponent who so clumsily keeps running away.”

The young man wanted to say something in return but kept his mouth shut. As he watched, he noticed that Orba wasn’t outright retreating, but kept circling around his opponent while maintaining a fixed distance. And it looked like Verne was no longer able to attack and pursue his opponent so hastily either.

Probably because he lost his temper, Verne put all of his strength into tossing another blow. The iron ball flew past Orba’s shoulder and – although it seemed obvious to the bystanders that this was like a golden opportunity – he only returned a slight thrust with his sword, while once again taking his distance.

“Get serious!”

“Stop messing around!”

The audience stopped laughing and started jeering down at the arena. Not only at Orba, but also at Verne who didn’t seem able to take down his constantly fleeing opponent.

“You bastard!” Verne howled.

When he tried to rush at Orba diagonally, the girl suddenly raised her voice, “Ah!”, in surprise.

Orba, who had until now only retreated backwards, suddenly started to pitch forward. Stopping in his tracks, Verne, too, took the opportunity to strike another blow.

Orba tilted his body wide to the right, avoiding the iron ball and, as he rotated on his left toe, flashed his sword in a diagonal uppercut. The moment the chain got cut apart, a strange, clear sound echoed throughout the arena, then Orba twisted his body again and swung his sword downward with the force of a thunderbolt.

Verne’s cranium was split in two and the giant collapsed soon after.

“M-Magnificent!” the orator cried.

However, because it had happened so swiftly and came with such an unexpected conclusion, the audience was looking rather flabbergasted. Although the awkward silence wrapped around the arena, the victor didn’t seem to care either way and headed up to the stake, and, borrowing the hands of a number of slaves to lift it from the ground, used his sword to cut the ropes that kept the woman bound.

With a shout of delight, she joyfully clung onto his neck, only to be pushed away with a confused look on her face as Orba immediately started to return to his gate.

The girl in the special seat – she had also been staring agape at the sudden fall of the curtain – slowly began to form her lips into a smile. That gladiator named Orba didn’t seem aware of the audience at all. As if stating the only reason he was here today was to fight, and to kill as he was told.

“He… took out Verne.”

“With one blow.”

After that moment of silence, voices praising Orba began to raise little by little. Now that the mood had grown uneasy for the visitors, slowly the clapping of hands, the awkward stamping of feet, and cheers appropriate for a victor started to fill the stands. Then, almost at the instant the arena had returned to the state it was supposed to be in, the air shook heavily.

It was the roar of the Sozos Dragon.

It might have been the drug wearing off, or an instinctive reaction to the smell of blood, but all of a sudden it started swaying its enormous body from right to left, shattering a portion of its cage. One of the slaves who’d been in the process of towing everything away, was caught and raised from the head by the dragon’s claw. Before he could resist, his torso disappeared into the Sozos’s mouth.

There was the sound of breaking bones. And at the same time as the awful sound of salivated chewing could be heard, the arena grounds were suddenly filled with screams. In the midst of all the fear and panic that rapidly swept over the area, the Sozos rather calmly stretched out its limbs further and emerged from the broken cage.

Being pulled along into the crowd that strived to be the first to escape, the young man from earlier almost fell to the floor. But then, he was pulled along by a hand from the side.

“This way. Hurry!”

It was one of the soldiers who’d been guarding the special seats. As he rattled around with a sword and gun, he tried to bring the young man back inside.

“W-Wait. Ineli’s…”

Although he tried to resist, he couldn’t move freely as he kept being jostled by the crowd of people trying to escape. Then, he heard a suspiciously familiar, high-pitched scream. Right in front of the Sozos’s forepaws beyond the dividing wall, was a figure that belonged to no one other than Ineli. The girl had turned a pale colour as she had tumbled over from the gallery, and it looked like she was about to lose consciousness any minute.

The dragon’s long snout opened from top to bottom. As the rows of tusks, similar to sharp pointed swords, opened up, they formed long threads of slaver. The young man was about to involuntarily avert his eyes, when a thin streak of blood spouted from the Sozos’s neck. The gladiator arena’s employed guards had rushed in with guns. However, because they were close to the seats, they could only shoot at point-blank range, and from the way they stood, they hardly had the nerve. While they were conflicted at what to do while it approached, the Sozos turned around quickly and hit them with a single blow of its tail, fully sending several people flying.

The girl had sank down to the floor, her eyes opened wide looking at her surroundings.

Then, from those eyes, she saw.

There was a shadow that ran past the Sozos’s flank like a gust of wind. Just before it came up against the brick wall that divided the seats from the ring, the shadow kicked against it and soared up into the air. A man with a tiger-imitating iron mask jumped into the girl’s sight, the figure of Orba the gladiator landing on top of the Sozos’s head.

Even though she had just witnessed him running up to the Sozos from behind while the dragon was distracted by bullets, she couldn’t suddenly believe it.

Despite Orba’s slim body, his joints and muscles seemed to fortify his arms like steel as he grabbed a firm hold of the dragon’s neck. While further sandwiching its neck between his legs, he held on tight with one arm and, with his other, brought his sword down into the head.

It swung its long tail around, rocked the ground by stamping its feet, but the dragon still struggled, not able to shake off the gladiator, as it shook off a second and a third attack tearing through scales that were equal to an iron armour, and flesh and blood got splattered around. However, although the sword broke when it came to the fourth attack, at that time the other gladiators rushed in.

“Orba!”

Receiving a thrown sword from a brown-skinned swordsman, Orba once again raised it for a fifth attack, following the exact same process as earlier, until he fully caved the middle of the blade into the crown of the dragon’s head.

Its golden eyes goggled longingly at the skies. Just before its huge body sunk from the neck, the swordsman had swooped down next to the guest seats.

The girl, still kneeling on the floor, was looking up at him. It was almost as if he came from a tale, for she felt like a princess caught by an evil wizard, and although she fixed her eyes on him with a throbbing heart, of all things, the would-be-hero gladiator continued his walk, completely ignoring her, and nimbly jumped off the dividing wall and back into the ring.

There was still a cloud of chaotic fear hanging over the arena as he showed her his back and took his leave, but rather than drifting the air of a victor, he looked more like a solitary figure that could hardly endure the stares on him.

“A-Are you okay?”

She turned her eyes to the young man she had brought with her, who came running up to her with bated breath, and suddenly got an odd sensation. She had only seen it with a passing glance earlier, but the eyes underneath that swordsman’s mask seemed to closely resemble those of the young man.

And there was yet another man who focused a long look at Orba’s back, surprised for another reason.

“No way, he is alive.”

He wiped the sweat from his slightly slacking chin with the back of his hand. Standing behind the young man’s back - he was also one of the men who’d been at the special seats - he was speaking to himself in wonder as the unique smell of blood drifted about.

“Orba was his name? Two years... Two entire years, huh.”

=== Part 2 ===

“Two years.”

The gladiator, Orba, staring down the lurking darkness, suddenly murmured those words in his mouth.
Although only ‘two years’, in this line of work, it had been full of hardships, blood, and corpses. How many times had he struggled for his life, only to have both his feet chained at the end, spend the night in the slave pens, where his only pastime was to train all morning in order to keep living as a sword-slave? And then there’s another fight.

No one, except Orba, expected him to be able to live through more than five battles. Two years ago, when Orba first set foot in the arena, he’d still been fourteen years old. His body had been even thinner than it was now, and he’d hardly been able to handle the weapons.

However, at the moment of truth, he’d survived. He brandished the weapon held in his hands, chosen from one of the few weapons he was able to wield, to the limits of his power. He only knew how to fight by recklessly charging in. As he gained experience, his skill, the thickness of each of his muscle fibres, the mastery of new weapons, as well as the opponent’s corpses he stepped over, increased every time he emerged from another fight.

And so, two years passed. Orba didn’t know whether that was a long or a short time. Sometimes, he thought he was a considerably old person, but he also felt like a youngster at times who still didn’t know anything at all about battles.

Anyway, maybe it simply had to do with the fact, that he had not been blessed with the opportunity to see his own face. Lying face up, he was still wearing the same iron mask he wore in the battle ring. Because it had never been removed those two years, the other sword-slaves belonging to the same Tarkas Gladiatorial Group had no way of knowing his true face.

“Get up, slaves! You hate wakin’ up? Then get ready for your worst day yet!”

When morning came, another day for the slaves began. The one in charge of training the sword-slaves, and the slaves’ main supervisor, was Gowen, who drove everyone from their bedrooms and made them start cleaning the accommodations.

When that was finished, taking care of the lions, serpents, boars, tigers and the like – the animals that were used in the arena – was waiting. In particular, taking care of the dragons was hard work. Even taking care of the small- and medium-sized dragons was too much for a single person to handle, but taking care of the large-sized Sozos dragons was far worse. While it was expected for slaves to die by the sword, many had also been crushed underfoot by these dragons that were purposefully trained not to grow accustomed to humans.

Orba set foot in the vast dragon’s abode, which was much larger than the slaves’ dwellings – far from it – and resembled a castle courtyard, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed the back of a woman.

She was Hou Ran. One of the other slaves ordered to feed the dragons, she was directly touching the dragons’ scales. Of course, the dragons’ legs and necks were wrapped in chains, as it was not necessary to carry out yesterday’s example, but that was by no means an absolute guarantee. At a distance that would even cause a gladiator to hesitate, greeting each dragon one by one, she gently touched their scales with her fingers.

“Orba.”

Calling out his name, she quickly turned around.

“So I’ve been found out.”

“I’ve been told by the ‘voice’ of the dragons.”

Ran smiled. She seemed truly unsuitable in an all-men, not to mention savage, sword-slave detention camp, and Orba still hadn’t gotten used to her defenceless smile.

Her skin like polished ebony, combined with hair that seemed to have turned pale, gave off a mysterious charm. Originating from the Dragon God worshipping nomads that roamed in the western mountains of Mephius, despite her primarily reclusive kin, Ran had exceptionally been brimming with curiosity, secretly boarded one of her tribe’s caravan wagons and came over to the outside world. Because she never told him exactly what had happened after that, he did not know when Tarkas hired her, and how she could take care of the dragons single-handedly like this.

“Do these guys know my name?”

“Their ‘voices’ come like images into my head. They all know your face, Orba. You’re liked by the dragons.”

While it appeared idiotic, in fact, it seemed like her pupils, clearly giving the impression of being deep under the sea, held some kind of intelligence lost to civilized men. From the other side of the fence, the small-type dragons were poking out their snouts and snapping at him.

“It doesn’t look that way,” Orba said with a thin smile.

At the time Orba turned up two years ago, Hou Ran was already at the detention camp. Back then, although she didn’t make direct eye contact with the others employed by Tarkas, she didn’t even open her mouth to him.

Whether there were difficulties with Ran seeing his true face through her eyes, or listening with her voice, soon became the target of bets among the sword slaves short of entertainment.*

But, one time, Ran was about to be roughed up by a new sword-slave who’d recently come into the camp. Orba just happened to pass by and had beaten him up, and ever since then Ran had at least been able to speak to him a bit.

“I heard you were attacked by a Sozos at Ba Roux.”

“''I'' was the one who attacked the Sozos,” he emphasized. “It suddenly started getting violent.”

“Even with drugs, it’s useless to imprison its heart by force. If I had been the one supervising it, such a thing would have never happened.”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 035.jpg|thumb]]

She bit her lips, but it was not because she was concerned about Orba or the visitors. With the figure of a girl patting the nape of a medium-sized Baian dragon in the corner of his eye, Orba finished his own work and left the dragon’s abode behind him.

After feeding the animals and cleaning was done, it was time to tend to their weapons. Because they left their own lives in their care, they carefully did them one by one. Whenever they handled weapons, about ten guards in full armour acted as supervisors. Naturally, they were there to make sure none of the sword-slaves tried to revolt.

Then, after being excused for a meal of bread and soup – the survivors of yesterday’s gladiator matches were treated meat and fruit as a reward – they each began their training at the start of noon. Just like when they’d been tending the weapons, there were armed soldiers on the lookout, but this time, the chains that connected both feet were taken off.

Sword-slaves that lasted over two years like Orba were extremely rare. Lives were lost one after another, and new faces always appeared again on the next day. Gowen tirelessly taught them the step work of how to hold a sword or how to handle a gun, and trained them thoroughly until they were fully prepared.

Orba also had some of the newcomers as opponents. Sometimes they clashed swords, just like in an actual fight, and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to part with a limb or lose his life in the midst of training..

Today, there weren’t any casualties. But that did not have to mean they were lucky. The next day may hold an even more miserable fate, and grislier deaths may be awaiting for these gladiators.

When all the faces of the sword-slaves had turned dark, their skin wet with sweat and covered in dust, , Orba moved to the fence separating the training grounds from an aisle on the other side, and caught sight of Tarkas’s figure.

Saying “At ease!” at the newcomer, Orba rushed up towards him.

Also noticing the masked man, Tarkas stopped in his tracks. There was a feeling of distrust slipping through his sagged cheeks.

“What is it, Iron Tiger? Ahh… good job yesterday.” He had a look on his face as if he just now remembered he forgot to feed his pet dog. “Verne was quickly becoming a well-known gladiator. The other gladiator troupe started talking about wanting to pit him against you. ‘Can’t we earn back all the money we invested in Verne that way?’ – don’t try that sarcastic bullshit on me. Well, I suppose I feel a bit grateful as well. And killing that Sozos—”

“Tarkas, how much longer do I have to continue winning?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s been two years already. I’ve kept winning all the time. How many times do I have to be the ‘main event’ like yesterday. Isn’t it about time you take these chains off of my feet?”

Sword-slaves, all of them, were each exchanged on a contract when bought by a merchant. Although Tarkas it seemed to handle it quite vaguely.

“Don’t think I can’t read. Even a slave should have the right to look into my contract. I’ve been waiting here, Tarkas. I should’ve been allowed to leave a long time ago.”

As Orba spoke right in front of him, Tarkas sharply put a squinting look in his eyes.

“So, where do you plan to go? Surely you can be released from my hands, but you’ll still be a criminal. You don’t have the money to pay off your remaining prison term. Or maybe you want to work in the Shaga Mines along the western border? Poisonous gases, wild man-eating beasts, human-hunting Geblin tribes, and – of course – extremely miserable and rigorous labour. If it’s the same hell, or if you think you may have it better off here, hurry up and get back to your training. And don’t ever speak to me like an equal, until you’ve become a full-fledged swordsman that earns his pay.”

Thrusting his thick finger in Orba’s face, Tarkas quickly took his leave, heading for his office. Behind him, unfamiliar faces followed suit. Considering this was a place where legs were tied up in chains, they were probably newly procured slaves.

Orba was silent. His eyes were teeming with rage however, but Tarkas’s words weren’t lies either. Concerning Mephian law, you can basically either sell your life or go to prison.* Like the Mines of Shaga that Tarkas spoke of – should he apply for the country’s public service, accompanied by dangers, and sell himself off as a slave there?

Grasping the fence tightly in his hands, he lost all sense of feeling in his fingers before he knew it, Orba remained there standing in place.

“What are you doing, Orba!? Get back here!”

After finally being rebuked by Gowen, he went back to practice. As always.

A few hours after that, after washing their bodies with a cupful of water, it was time for their second meal of the day. Orba, rounding up his body like a hunchback in the corner of the dining hall, was almost grasping at his food. Like a habit, he couldn’t go through a meal without reading a book.

Then,

“Orba, good job yesterday.”

Another sword-slave, the one named Shique, nestled into his back, and Orba wildly shook him off with his hand.

“That ballchain Verne chap. When the match was decided, I didn’t know what to do. If you seemed to get into a huge disadvantage, I considered shooting him down from the outside.”

“Go away. Unless you want me to wound that smug face of yours.”

“Ooh, scary. But I wouldn’t mind any wound you give me, for it’ll become a bond between me and you.”

Even though it was hard, despite Shique’s chuckling behaviour, to make an accurate judgement on whether he was serious or making a joke, Orba didn’t socialize with him either way. The handsomely Shique had grown out his hair and even used make-up when it came to a gladiatorial battle. And just like that, because it seemed to further his degenerate good looks, he was tremendously popular among the female crowd. Even though the person himself was a self-styled, huge misogynist.

“However, I expected no less from you, Orba. Even without me lending you a hand, you managed to make a truly magnificent performance. Are you, both in name and reality, Tarkas’s top gladiator, I wonder?”

“I wouldn’t say it was magnificent.”

Gowen, the one in charge of training the gladiators, made his appearance. Although Orba showed plain the annoyance in his eyes as he sat down at the same table, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Although you did well, it’s a fact that it was also dangerous. When you broke in, your timing was still too hasty. It’s a bad habit of yours to take risks when you’re driven into a corner, only if even by a bit. You should spend more time putting an effort into ensuring your predominance. Although Verne was a brilliant swordsman, he wasn’t the type to target his opponent’s weak points. But a more observant opponent could easily see through your quick temper, and sweep you off your feet.”

He was a grey-haired man in his mid-fifties, but he still had a stout and tanned body, and the peering glances he gave the sword-slaves were filled with intensity.

“His opponent was that Verne, though. That guy was, curiously enough, in perfectly good shape,” a new voice called out, belonging to Tarkas Gladiatorial Group’s number one giant, Gilliam.

He had been in the same arena as Orba and Shique the day before, carrying a battle-ax on his shoulder, and with that the three strongest sword-slaves were gathered together. With long auburn hair in as much disorder as possible, his face, grinning with clenched teeth, had a look as intimidating as that of a wild lion.

“When I heard you had to go against Verne, I honestly thought you ran out of luck. Well, you don’t have bad skills. But, as usual, you still don’t know what it means to be a gladiator. It’s worthless if you win gracelessly. It won’t satisfy the guests. The way you carelessly kept running from place to place and then suddenly decided the match with one blow was just not entertaining at all. You’ve got to hit them up front.”

For someone like a sword-slave, it wasn’t just about winning the match. You had to be popular, in short, make sure that a lot of visitors come to the see that gladiator alone. Plain gladiators, after finally having earned a pile of money, would be thrown before wild animals or dragons on their own, only to satisfy the sadistic tastes of their customers.

That was why the gladiators – every one of them – strove to hone their skills, and also tried to appeal to the audience with flashy personalities in order to survive. Some decorated their body with gaudy armours, some made a show out of dragging out their opponent’s heart after their demise, while others inked their bodies with mysterious tattoos.

As for Shique, he dramatically claimed to be ‘a descendent of and ancient royal dynasty’.

“This time, go against me, Orba. I’ll teach you what it is to fight for real.”

“Not interested.”

“Haha, are you afraid of me?”

“Oh, I am. I’m scared. So, get lost.”

“You bastard!”

As Orba continued eating his meal in his usual stooped behaviour, Gilliam pushed him in the back.

“Stop it!” Gowen commanded.

If there was a disturbance, the soldiers belonging to the gladiatorial group would rush in, so for the time being Gilliam took his leave with a reddened face.

“Come to think of it, some strange newcomers have appeared,” Gowen said, after some time had passed, as if he suddenly remembered. It looked like he was talking about the ones Orba had seen too, trailing behind Tarkas back then.

“Strange? Like, with horns in their hair, and the bulge of a tail in the back of their pants?” a sword slave named Kain interfered.

He was a boy, the same age as Orba, who came to the detention facility a year ago and took after him. He wasn’t that great physically or with a sword, but he excelled in dexterity, especially when handling handguns or rifles.

“Or maybe a survivor from the Ryuujin<ref>Dragon people.</ref> Tribe, doesn’t that sound romantic?”

“Ryuujin, Geblin, or whatever type of person appears now, I probably wouldn’t even be surprised. This is a sword slave company after all, a trading place for all kinds of races.”

“It’s a much simpler story. I heard every last one of those guys hardly have any skill at the sword.”

“What…?”

Kain looked uninterested but stood on the tips of his toes.

“I mostly can’t believe Tarkas would have bought a bunch of good-for-nothings without a grumpy face. But he seemed in an unusually good mood.”

“Oh?”

“Certainly. For a master like Tarkas, whose eyes are always dazzled by the shine of gold, it sounds really strange, right?”

“Good mood? That guy?” Orba said, remembering the situation with Tarkas during the day.

“I’ve known him longer than you. The only times I’ve seen Tarkas in a good mood was when he got the chance to earn a huge amount of money.”

“Then again, I wonder if it’s nobles who came to visit. About an exhibition match, or something like that. Those newcomers could’ve also been nobles who were asking to be bought. Or maybe they’re political offenders who opposed the Mephius Empire. Could there be a request for them to be gruesomely fed to dragons in public?”

“There’s a strange intensity to your words, because I can’t read your face.”

“Anyway, where’s the new book? It’s been three months since I’ve asked for it.”

Losing interest in the conversation, Orba inquired about something else. The other guys had all started raising different topics among themselves. By tomorrow, they were likely to fight as opponents even if they were gladiators working for the same firm. The idea of deepening a friendship more than necessary had never been in Orba’s mind from the start.

“Ahh, it’s been purchased. It’ll be here tomorrow. However… although it seems a little late to say this, you’re a bit unusual too. Of the guys here, even those that can read and write letters, I doubt they’ve ever read more than a hundred in their life.”

Plucking at a skin of chicken, Gowen glanced over at Orba.

“Sometimes, even I’m almost driven with the impulse to tear off that mask. What’s the true face that lies underneath? There are times I think you’re only a young wild brat, and there are times the cool-headedness of a man who has survived many battlefields peeks through. Yesterday was like that. You took the appropriate actions against a Sozos without flinching.”

“Are you praising me or not?”

“I’m praising you. Other than taking up a sword and fighting for yourself, you calmly consider the circumstances. Although I think it may practically be better for leading types, you like books about history and people, get absorbed reading them late into the night and swallow their knowledge, and there’s also that quick temper of yours.”

When meeting him for the first time, basically from the time he was bought by the Tarkas company, Orba’s face had been covered by a mask. Ever since then, he hadn’t taken it off even once. Of course, everybody wanted to know why. They wanted to see his face. They wondered about his origins.

In the beginning, it worried Gowen that Orba met fists with them in response to their curiosity and suspicions. But when half a year had passed, he thought of the makeshift excuse that ‘a magician put a curse on it’ and after a year the teasing stopped, and soon nobody asked him about it anymore. Although some newcomers occasionally asked him about it, Orba was able to turn a blind eye.

“What do you gain from reading a book? At least, at the place where I was born and raised, you didn’t gain respect no matter how many books you owned.”

“It sounds like you’ve been raised by ape men or Geblin.”

“Watch your language, Orba. I think I’m especially kind to you considering the circumstances. If it doesn’t matter to you, I too can adopt that same attitude.”

Behaving like a man who couldn’t understand a joke was one of Gowen’s beloved habits. Orba revealed a stifled smile, but the deep-wrinkled, sword-slave training official unexpectedly gave a serious look.

“As a sword-slave, normally, you only try your best to survive for the day. Some go back out into this corrupted world, but there are some people who are content being a sword-slave for the rest of their life, because they can’t live without committing yet another crime – although, for most, their ‘whole life’ would probably be very short – but, you’re different. You, at least, do not get absorbed in the killing and focus on the future. After that, I always think: Hey, what should I say to such a man? Should I tell him to throw away a future like that? When it’s only hard, even if you hold onto it with such devotion? Or should I tell him to seriously hold on to that hope? Because it will be the strength for him to live this through?”

“Did you secretly drink some alcohol, gramps? You’re talkative.”

“I’m being serious.”

Gowen stubbornly shook his head. Orba decided he had truly gotten drunk. Usually, Gowen wouldn’t have remained silent after being called ‘gramps’.

“Who is it that you fight? The other sword-slaves, yourself, or do you even have a purpose?”

“I don’t know.”

Scuffing his words like a boy, Orba turned away his face. He didn’t want his inner feelings to be seen, where he was trembling like as a child.

Finishing his meal, Orba quickly left the dining hall. Although the sword-slaves could walk about freely, there was nothing but the dining hall and the bedrooms at the detention camp. It was called a bedroom, but it wasn’t much different from a stable to keep livestock. As he lay down in a corner, Orba stared at his own hands.

It had been two years since then. Even today, he could remember it so well. And if he hadn’t confirmed it himself, those ‘two years’ would’ve been no more than a number. For two years, Orba had barely stayed alive, surrounded by the smell of blood, guts, and iron.

However, he killed, survived, did it all over again, and what was the point in all of that?

Orba turned over on the floor. He had already grown accustomed to the feel of his hard mask touching the ground. It was as Tarkas said. Even if he was freed from being a slave, he didn’t know more of how to live the ‘clever’ way of life, but it seemed that Gowen had misunderstood something – he was not waiting with hopes for a future like that. Supposing he did…

Under the thin shadow formed by fangs, Orba tightly gnashed his teeth.

''If I do live through this, then what do I do?''

It was decided. He was tired of doing things over and over in the arena, the massacres, the blood, the fights, killing each other. On the way back, he was never able to think of things like ‘it’s okay’ or ‘it’ll get easier’.

An inexplicable anger was stuck in the glitter of his eyes, on the other side of the mask.

''I’ll get it back. I’ll take it back. And for the ones who took it away from me, even though it is not enough, I will have them fully taste the pain of the agonizing cries from all the people I’ve killed these past two years.''

=== Part 3 ===

“So you’re here, Orba?”

Roan suddenly showed his face.

Orba, who had been looking up at the night sky, rudely averted his eyes. As a punishment for neglecting to take care of the animals and play instead, his mother had taken away his supper, and now he was just outside the barn, sulking on his own. His face, as well as both knees he buried his face in, was full of scratches.

“Did you have another fight?”

“Not really.”

The quick-tempered Orba often quarrelled with the other children in the neighbourhood. Swinging around a wooden sword, he even went as far as the neighbouring village to pick fights. The villagers that caught sight of his figure, almost falling forward as he raced through the fields, half-jokingly said,

“Oh, Orba’s doing his best again,” as they waved their hands and watched over him.
Of course, after having his fights, his mother scolded him to no end.

“Why don’t you follow your brother’s example,” was the same thing she always said.

His older brother was able to do anything. In the old days, he looked through a single book their father brought back when coming from the city for several times, and from that alone he was able to memorize reading and writing letters by himself. He also learned how to do numbers at a very young age. Around the time he turned ten, after begging a merchant from the city to take him in as an assistant, he was also supporting his poor family’s living expenses.

Orba on the other hand, although he’d learned reading and writing letters from his older brother, was terrible at doing numbers, and above all, he didn’t know what to do with his boiling hot blood.

Almost every night, he spent sleepless hours staring at the ceiling. His blood was always screaming in the dark. After fist fights and such, the prickling pain of his injuries seemed to overflow with the hotter, more painful black blood from deeper inside, and it felt as if it would simply jump out into the open.

At those times, he’d jump to his feet and go outside. And he’d pick up his wooden sword that was leaning against the barn. No matter how many times it had been confiscated by his mother, he always made a new one from scratch. It wasn’t uncommon, either, for him to swing around his sword until the break of dawn.

“It’s okay if you get into fights,” Roan said, sitting down next to Orba. “But you have to help mother out properly. Working as a single woman is very hard. You know that too, right?”

Along the southern border of the Mephius Empire, was a place commonly known as Drought Valley. It was a naturally formed valley in Mephius where the river dried out, but there was a poor village, after all not even the name was written down on maps, where Orba had grown up.

Orba didn’t have many memories of his father. He passed away when he was two or three. While he’d been engaged in additional construction work for Apta Fortress, that protected the border south of the village, his father had unluckily fallen victim to a cave-in while he’d been digging through the cliff. Cutting through the valley’s steep cliffs instead of creating houses or buildings was an everyday occurrence in Mephius, and his father had been such a construction worker.

“Father was a man born only to dig a dark hole in the ground.”

He remembered that, one day, his mother had said those words in a tone that was neither complaining nor at grief. With that said, his mother too, was a person who had no pleasure in always working hard from morning till evening, every day. She ploughed the barren fields, sold clothes of her native people and towels she made by hand at the City of Apta once every month, and made the nearly tasteless stew for the young brothers every day without ever getting tired of it.

Orba too, also passed through life without change or colour, but his only pleasure was when his brother came back home for a break, two or three times a month, and brought along many different books.

Books written about the Old World where humankind once left its nest, books about Magic King Zodias, and, above all, historical novels with colourful illustrations or heroic stories, got Orba fully absorbed into them. Brave heroes swinging their swords to rescue a country full of dangers, beautiful maidens in thin clothes that were imprisoned in tall towers, vicious dragons revived from ancient ruins — things he’d never experience in a lifetime and the many dazzling adventures in those worlds made Orba engrossed, and whenever he closed a book, being back in that small, miserable reality surrounding him only made him despair.

“You know, aniki<ref>Familiar/honorific way of saying ‘older brother’.</ref>,” Orba said, burying his head in his arms and holding it with his hands. “I feel like doing something more.”

“You’re not even ten years old, are you? Worrying about such things doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m being serious. Look at all the adults here. Even I’ll become like that within another few years. Day after day, you work and work, but life won’t get any easier. I’ll marry someone sooner or later, a child gets born, and if the child’s an ‘unruly boy’ like me, one day he’ll surely say he wants to go to the city, be a soldier for Mephius, or ride a Garberan airship, and I’ll say something like, ‘Oh, in the old days, your father also held onto dreams like that’, and then I’ll probably laugh along with the other adults while drinking my tea.”

“Everyone’s like that,” Roan laughed, bathing in the pale moonlight.

Around this time, you could always hear singing voices coming from the house on the other side of the road. Listening to the cheerful voices of men who got drunk, although he wasn’t really paying attention, he said,

“Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. There are people who can’t live without working hard every day, people who sail over violent waves by boat, old philosophers who’ve buried themselves in thousand-year-old books, priests of Badyne who will preach their truth to numerous believers, many renowned generals who soar through the skies in dragonstone ships, and even country leaders who’ve subdued many territories at their feet. What they do in a day may be surprisingly different, whether they wet their swords with blood, drown in the letters of the alphabet, or even chant the name of God, but I think even they can’t provide you with an answer.”

“They, too, will think our aspects are hopeless. Like the king who’s surrounded by luxuries I wouldn’t have the money for within a lifetime, and eating his stomach full with delicious food every night. He sometimes takes a large army on a campaign, or gets shocked by betrayal, but every day he’s alive. I’ll never be able to. Neither the king nor the nobles, can even imagine what’s inside our dreams. Those people… Yes, take this night for example, they don’t even seem to be looking up at the same moon as I.”

“I wonder. It could be that, exactly because the king spends every day like that, he may sometimes feel a yearning to spending his life out in town. Maybe, to get away from the constraining life in the imperial court, he wants to go out to a sour-smelling bar sometimes and drown in cheap wine, listening to ridiculous stories, disgusted that, every day, he cannot relax his guard, not even for blood relatives. And he’ll probably think, ‘Ahh, wouldn’t it be easy to just go through life breaking a sweat*, with no more worries about being targeted?’”


“That’s just a delusion. You mean he’s yearning for a life like ours? Just because he doesn’t know the difficulties and insecurities of such a life, he’ll only think of it on a whim.”

“Exactly. Isn’t that what I said? There isn’t a human being anywhere who understands everything, knows what he really wants, or knows who he truly is. I think everybody longs for what they don’t know, what they have not experienced, and they’re also looking for wherever there their true course may lie. In this sense, they’re no different from us.”

“I don’t know. Then, you mean even the king, even the great priest, is someone who’s not completely satisfied?”

But when his brother was about to answer,

“Why are you talking about such difficult things?”

Suddenly Alice appeared, swaying her dark brown hair slightly. It was then that they noticed the singing voices from the house across had completely stopped. It looked the girl had finally come to put them to sleep.

While she seemed to have overheard just a little, Alice showed a dimpled smile,

“In the end, it’s nothing but pointless stuff. In this world, no matter where you’re from, first of all, Orba, you have start by taking care of your mother and work earnestly, so that you can get to eat tomorrow.”

“Hear that, aniki? When they’re not interested in the conversation, women immediately find it difficult, insignificant, or have more important things to do.”

“That, too, is the truth,” Roan laughed merrily.

Alice was two years younger than his brother and three years older than Orba. And when Orba was even younger, they played as if Alice was a sister among the three.

Soon after, they enjoyed talking about memories of those days. When, by Alice’s suggestion, they went fishing at the river, and that same Alice nearly drowned as she slipped on the rocks. Or the time they went to see the caravan’s horses as it arrived at their village, and Orba got into trouble secretly trying to mount one. Or when, because a boy from the nearby village said he ‘saw a wild dragon’, the three went to the rumoured place and got completely lost on the canyon’s intricate path. Although they finally did come home late, all three had to suffer though a good scolding…

“Anyway, wasn’t it because Doug from that village deceived us? Ever since that time, you’ve had a bad relationship, right? Even your opponent from today’s fight……”

“Shut up.”

The nail hitting him right on the head, Orba turned away his face. Although the reason he picked a fight with Doug was all because of Alice, he never spoke of it.

However, as they laughed and reminisced together like that for the entire evening, it was the last time he spoke with his brother in peace.

In those days, the Imperial Dynasty of Mephius and the Kingdom of Garbera were already at war with each other. It was said the Garberan cavalry recently crossed their border, although the two countries had a history of repeated conflict for some time, concerning the very definition of that border. The southern Apta Fortress, which was close to Orba’s village, had also suffered from attacks by Garbera’s mounted troops on many occasions.

Eventually, Garbera temporarily gave up on capturing Apta Fortress, and aimed for striking them by another route. And that was by setting up a trap. Targeting them when the majority of the troops stationed in Apta had been pulled back to the imperial capital, they immediately drove them into an siege.

Naturally, Apta Fortress was forced to a desperate, defensive battle. As it soon turned into holding out until the reinforcements came from the imperial capital, the Mephian army forcibly commandeered soldiers from the surrounding villages. And Orba’s older brother Roan was also one of them.

Of course, his mother screamed, crying. If there was only one hope his mother worked for within her nearly colourless life, it was probably for his brother. Although she clung onto the soldier that tried to take away his brother, Roan gently placed a hand on her shoulder and said,

“It’s okay. Help will come from the imperial capital soon enough, so be patient until then.”

Besides, the pay was much better than that of a merchant’s assistant, he added with a laugh.

Orba, standing next to Alice, was seeing him off, watching the backs of several of the village’s youths crossing over the layers of rock.

''If I were just a little bigger'', Orba thought. ''I could go to the fortress instead of my brother. Then, mother would not have to be so sad either, and I may even receive a distinguished service among the soldiers.''

After his brother disappeared, his mother, who had always been so devoted to work, spent almost the entire day in prayer, as if something inside her completely snapped. Although she sometimes remembered to stand in the kitchen and prepare a meal, when it came to the menu, she acted as if his brother Roan was about to return from the city, making only his favourite food. But when she recalled that he wouldn’t be at the dining table after all, his mother threw it all away in the backyard.

Meanwhile, Orba ploughed the neglected fields, and also took care of their few animals on his own. During the evenings, Orba would climb up a narrow road carved into the cliffs and always stare at the direction of the imperial capital, looking for rows of gorgeous armours, vast dust clouds from military dragons during their march, and the majestic figures of dragonstone battleships – but he never saw the sight he was hoping for.

And, when about three weeks had passed since his brother left, residents from a village beyond the valley, which was closer to the fortress than theirs, were bounding in, out of breath.

“The fortress has fallen!”

They came with the worst news.

Apta Fortress had fallen before the approaching Garbera forces. They said the commanders and main staff who guarded the fortress had started on the escape, leaving their soldiers behind. There were no reinforcements from the imperial capital at Apta, for they’d been sent to the natural stronghold of Birac, next to the ravine further to the north. So it seemed the imperial capital had already decided that that would be heart of the southern border’s line of defence. Apta had only been used to buy time.

And, concerning the land in between, the Garberan forces that were camped at the fortress, started ravaging the surrounding villages. There were acts of plunder and assault – raiding, so to speak.

The people of the village were in a hurry to gather their few belongings, although there was hardly any food with the harvest being near and they were limited to holding their own crops, and left the village in a rush. Those who had acquaintances in the vicinity hurried over there, while the people who did not, took a temporary refuge in the valley, until the Garberan soldiers left their village.

Obviously, Orba followed them, but in the midst of his escape, he noticed that his mother wasn’t around.

Startled out of his wits, Orba turned back to the village. Beyond the rocks towering over the area like hills, he could see the complete panorama of his village sinking behind the evening mists. Surely, she was still there. She was waiting for his brother to come back. For his brother, who may possibly never come back again.

“Orba, where are you going? Orba!”

As Alice’s voice called out behind him, he pushed the crowd aside and headed back in a hurry.

And when he managed to arrive at his destination, there wasn’t a single soul, the village had become as silent as death. Because he was familiar with the scenery, there was an eeriness as if he had wandered into another dimension instead.

From the other side of the valley, he could see a group of men and horses approaching, and Orba ran towards his house in a hurry. When he opened the back door, his mother was there. She was trying to prepare a meal as usual.

“Roan?” his mother said, turning around, but when her eyes fixed on Orba’s sweaty figure, she, miraculously, shrugged her shoulders. “Were you still playing, Orba? Just help me out a little, your brother will be coming home soon.”

Outside, sounds could slightly be heard of the voices of soldiers, chasing the animals that were left behind. Afraid of the smoke rising up, he hurriedly tried to stop his mother. However,

“What’s this, there’s nothing!”

“What a measly village. Even though those guys at Gascon had it better. It seemed they slept with all of the girls.”

“Isn’t there at least any alcohol? Go and look!”

As soon as he thought he heard those voices coming closer, the door was violently kicked down.

Three soldiers came in noisily, each of them equipped with a simple chainmail, lance, and sword. On their faces, blackened by dust clouds, only the eyes casted a unique white light.

“Oh, there’s a woman!”

“What, isn’t she too old? Besides, isn’t there any alcohol? Or something to eat?”

After staring at his mother, who was protectively holding the crouched Orba in her hands, they started vandalizing the house, doing as they pleased. Orba was crouching down completely, concealing his breath like a herbivore trying not to attract the attention of wild beasts.

When the Garberan soldiers smashed through the door, his eyes had caught sight of the wooden sword, which had been resting against it, rolling over the floor. But in the end, it was nothing more than a child’s toy. He hated being told that more than anything, and was more than eager to stare back at those kind of people, but now he understood it painfully.

Then, as the soldiers were ransacking through to the shelves, they grabbed the crude ceramic tableware from inside and carelessly tossed them aside. Making a loud sound, the broken pieces scattered over the floor. It took Orba by surprise, as they were the things his brother Roan used, and his mother, who had been submissive until now, rose up with such force that Orba got pushed aside. From there, she started clinging onto one of the soldiers’ back.

“Hey, what? What?”

“It looks like she wants to play with me!”

A red-faced soldier unwrapped his mother, turned her around, and pushed her down in place. He placed his hand in front of her mouth when she tried to raise a piercing cry, then took out a pointed knife hidden inside his chainmail, and thrust it before his mother’s pale face.

“Stop it, you’d take any woman, wouldn’t you?”

“The taste of a young lass is nice, but an old flower like her ain’t bad either.”

As he spoke his red face showed a vulgar smile, and the thread holding Orba’s tensed up feelings snapped. Raising an awkward cry, he charged in. It was a desperate assault, however, and he was easily blown back by a single arm.

Knocking the back of his head against the shelves, although stunned for a moment, Orba gnashed his teeth and immediately faced forward again. And, from the top of the shelf, there was something that fell down with a loud crash. It was something long and narrow wrapped in a bundle and, with the front part of it torn, it was emitting a silver shine before Orba’s eyes.

''This is…''

Hiding it by reflex, Orba hurriedly tore apart the bundle. As he’d expected, it was a shortsword about sixty centimetres long. The round pommel had Mephian-made characteristics. Matching its slender blade, the handle was also a little thin, fitting nicely into a child’s hand.

As he took a hold of it, several letters carved into the blade jumped into his eyes.

''O, R, B, A...''

It was only for an instant – with his mother’s screams, the sound of the red-faced soldier disorderedly throwing off his chainmail, and the noise of the soldiers laying waste to the house. Although the frightening surge of black blood boiled in his body, he drove it far away and, in that instant, the thoughts squeezed together guided him to an explanation.

The blade was engraved only with ‘Orba’. Of course, he hadn’t known such a thing was in his house. He didn’t think his mother or other acquaintances would’ve especially prepared it for him. For all he knew, couldn’t this be anything but a present from his brother Roan?

But Roan should’ve handed over the money he got for his services to his mother. Besides, a blade like this could not be purchased in ordinary towns. Most likely, after going to Apta Fortress, he got provided with weapons as a soldier, and he’d asked the blacksmith stationed at the fort to engrave his name.

And then, he left it with the caravan that went circled the fortress and the towns. But when it came to his house, his mother must have accepted it. Thinking, afterwards, that it shouldn’t be crossed over into Orba’s hands, she most likely intended to keep it from her son’s sight. She probably thought that it was too dangerous for Orba, or maybe she was afraid that Orba would go away like Roan if he had a sword in hand.

At any rate…

“Hey, what’s that you’re holding?” a soldier called out from Orba’s crouched back. “It looks like you’re holding something valuable. Hey, why don’t you show me?”

“This is mine!”

“That’s not for you decide, but for me. Now, give it here.”

The soldier ridiculing Orba put a hand on his shoulder trying to get him out of the way with force. It was more than enough.

''That’s right, Orba'', he responded to his own inner voice.

“I said, show me — gyahh!”

Turning around, Orba swung his sword downward. With blood spraying from the man’s shoulder, Orba slipped under the staggered soldier’s arm and raced towards the man who was bent over his mother.

The red-faced man tore his eyes away from his mother and jumped back. Quickly picking up his hand-axe, he then received Orba’s blow that was coming at him. Orba stood firm on both his legs and somehow tried to get his sword through, but still, the blade was short, and a child’s strength couldn’t push a hand-axe aside like that. However, instead of easily getting overmatched, Orba made himself fall to the side.

“That brat…”

He swung down another blow with murderous intent. Orba rolled over to the side. After doing one rotation, the axe’s edge bit down there, right in front of his eyes. In that very instant, his blood froze up,

“Stop!”

His mother was clinging onto the red-faced man’s feet. Flying into a rage, the man kicked at her hands, turned around, and raised his axe even higher. When Orba saw it, the tension of his black blood – the anxiety, irritation, rage and other various emotions that had simmering in the boy’s body for such a long time – was about to be released from one single point, as if it had only now taken its final shape.

He stood up. Holding his sword with both hands, he forced it under his arm and slammed it, along with the rest of his body, into the soldier’s defenceless back.

The man’s back, as he’d taken off his armour, first received the blade considerably easy. Then there was a little firm resistance, but it also went through smoothly as Orba’s pushed it through with both hands, until, in the blink of an eye, the point of his sword finally pierced through the man’s chest.

Because Orba was also being dragged while the red-faced man staggered, he hurriedly let go of the sword. The man clashed with his back against the wall. After turning around to face the triumphant Orba, he made his mouth flap open and close, probably trying to say some sort of grudge, and threw up a huge amount of blood as he sank to the floor, until his bright red tongue drooped out and he no longer moved.

“You bastard!” the soldier who had his shoulder cut shouted, grimacing in pain.

“You killed Douga. You lowly brat.”

The other also shouted in a loud voice, and came rushing over at Orba. No longer holding a sword, Orba received a full body blow and rolled over on the floor again. He got kicked in the stomach, and stepped on his back.

“Mother and child both, I’ll hang your heads under the eaves.”

Crawling on all fours, the tip of the sword was thrust before the nape of Orba’s neck. His mother too, was lifted up, twisted by the hand, and placed in the same position next to Orba. No matter how much he wrested his body with all his strength, he couldn’t get rid of the weight of the man standing on his back.

“Let me go!”

“Ahh, right away. After you’ve turned into a corpse, that is!”

Orba, raising a bestial cry, was suddenly hovering in the moment that came between life and death. With a whishing sound of wind being cut as it was brought straight down. Finally, he shouted out his brother Roan’s name, when,

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, the wind-cutting sound ceased. Orba, scrambled thoughts mulling in his head, realized it wasn’t his brother who’d appeared though.

The one who had newly come inside the house, was a Garberan soldier after all. However, unlike the soldiers that had broken in, he was armed all over his body, with not a single part untouched, and his armour too was shining in silver. He still had a young face.

For a short time the soldiers could be seen flinching from the intruder, but then,

“It is as you can see, Knight Apprentice Sir.”

“We’ve come to receive our fair reward after winning the battle. Just because you stood in distinguished service for a while, you’re clad as a knight after all, surely you haven’t come to stop such unrefined things like these, right?” the two explained grimly.

Feigning a courteous manner, there was clearly an air that they were making light of the man.

“Besides, look. Our comrade was killed. There’s no way soldiers with Garberan pride can let this go by without getting vengeance, right?”

The soldier who spoke tipped Orba’s body over at his foot, and established the sword’s aim with his other hand. What Orba’s eyes saw as he looked up at the ceiling, was the point of the sword, but then a single string of light came flashing from the side.

“What are you doing!”

“How pitiable. Vengeance, is it? You mean to say there’s any pride in that against a child?”

The armoured youth had drawn his sword. It seemed like the man had felled that one soldier, for Orba realized the sword that should’ve pierced through his heart had somehow been repelled the to the side. The other roared something in a hoarse voice nearby. It sounded like he’d called out the armoured man’s name, but Orba didn’t catch it at the time.

“Y-Your comrade… how dare you, bastard!”

“I don’t want to be called a comrade or such by inferior people like you.”

As he thrust out the blooded tip of his sword, the soldier stepped back.

“Inferior, you say? Even though you’ve got the same history. Just because you were blessed with the opportunity to make a distinguished service, you get carried away. Always chanting, knight, knight as if it’s your favourite word, but did you become a real knight? You don’t share a bloodline with the Garberan royal family, you’ll be an ‘apprentice’ your whole life. Know your place!”

Soon, the solider who seemed to be stepping back, quickly pulled something out from behind his back and brought it in front of him. It was a crossbow, fixed with a long and slender pedestal, and he released the trigger.

That instant, the armoured youth nimbly turned aside. Making a single spin, as if dancing, he narrowly avoided the arrow and decapitated the soldier’s head. There wasn’t the slightest hesitation. The decapitated head whirled through the air, struck the house’s wall and rolled over the floor.

“Garbera is a country of knights. Instead of further defiling its name, receive the honour of being killed in action.”

His handsome looks, his way of fighting, and those words he murmured – it was all as if a hero had emerged from the books Orba read all the time.

“Commander, what’s the commotion!?”

A voice was raised from the outside, but he replied with “It’s nothing,” as he wiped the blood from his sword.

“You’re a child of Mephius?”

Orba didn’t immediately know what was good answer to the question raised. It was not that he was especially conscious of the name of the country called Mephius, either. The people of Orba’s village, generally living in a world of only about ten kilometres surrounding the village, weren’t very interested in the country or its territorial disputes.

The man gave Orba a thin smile when he gave no answer, and glanced over at the soldier who’d sunk in a puddle of blood. Orba, his body suddenly freezing up, tightly held onto his mother’s shoulders. He started looking if there was any weapon within reach, when,

“Hurry and get away from here,” the young man said. “It was to protect your mother – right? You truly hold the spirit of a knight inside of you. Much more than the people of Garbera, who seem to have forgotten all about the knight’s way. Now, you may get out of here. I’ll try to stop the plunder and assaults as much as possible, but I can’t catch a hold on all of them.”

Those eyes, for some reason, resembled those of his brother Roan. Supporting the shoulder of his sobbing mother, Orba slowly faced the back door, then, pulling his mother by the hand, he ran away at full speed. A wintry wind blowing through the streets after sunset, struck his cheeks. Urging his mother, who kept muttering ‘Roan, Roan’, sometimes even shouting at her, they finally united with Alice and the village people after an hour.

After that, they followed behind Alice’s father and headed for a village that was fifteen kilometres upriver to the north.

Orba didn’t know if the young armoured man had been true to his words, but at least from there on the random plundering was no longer carried out around Apta, which later became the territory of Garbera.

However, the flames were still approaching the village that Orba and the rest had succeeded in running away to earlier.

There were hardly any signs. Suddenly, ‘they’ came at them in full force and immediately started plundering. They were men who were completely harnessed in black. Provisions, clothes, and of course money and goods, all the things of possible value were taken by force. The people, too, were no exception. As soon as they arrived at the village they took the women, and impaled any man who tried to resist with spears from atop their horses, decapitated their heads with swords, and exposed them to gunfire.

Amidst all of the confusion, Orba lost sight of his mother. Just when he stumbled forward with impatience and fright,

“Alice!”

He spotted Alice getting bound by a soldier with her arms behind her back. Even though she was about to be dragged away, Alice was still screaming at him to run away. Completely losing himself, Orba leapt forward. The feeling of killing that one person still remained in his hands. And now he’d decided to do the same thing. He reached out his hand for the sword the soldier was carrying.

But, the moment he took a hold of the handle, he received a strong blow to the back of his head. The sight flickered before his eyes, and his consciousness was soon about to fade. Just before it did, he had a feeling he heard Alice’s voice calling out his name.

When he came to, Orba was lying on his back, spread-eagled, on the ground. His head was throbbing painfully. His consciousness was still a little dim, and he wasn’t even sure if he was dreaming or not.

“General Oubary , what do you want to do?”

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard that voice. Amongst the screams of men and women nearby, and firing in the distance, Orba secretly peeked through half-opened eyes at the one who had been called out to earlier.

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 069.jpg|thumb]]
It was a man atop a horse, holding a bottle of liquor which he’d most likely stolen. He was lightly and stylishly dressed in armour, bald, and had the majestic air of a giant. Even though he had such an serious appearance, there was violet lipstick on his thin lips, giving the elevated, sneering figure a strange kind of look.

“If all the valuables are gone, set fire to the lot. Leave not a single grain of wheat behind for Garbera.”

Saying those words, the man called general threw away his bottle of wine. It splashed against Orba’s cheeks.

“Very well, this village was burned by Garbera. Let the soldiers be thorough. They can have the women, but kill them when they’re done with them. Don’t even sell them off. You will supervise.”

Shortly after that, the screams and shouts died out. Instead, a hot wind roasted his skin, and an acrid stench started filling the air. When he finally managed to stand up, his surroundings had turned into a sea of flames.

There wasn’t a single person left alive. Orba roamed about the village, calling his mother and Alice’s name in a loud voice, while brushing away sparks of fire at his hands. But the only things that came into his sight were the slaughtered bodies of the village people. The bodies of the elderly, women, and children.

''That Oubary…''

With the place scorched all over, Orba’s whole body had become dark red with the blood and soot falling from overhead.

''Isn’t that Oubary… Apta Fortress’s…''

He remembered hearing about it. When the fortress had urgently been recruiting soldiers, he was sure the military men that appeared in the village had spoken the name. He was the veteran general who had been entrusted with the protection of the fort.

So that meant this had been the Mephian army. After the fortress fell, the troops including Oubary went north, ahead of Garbera’s pursuing troops, and burned down the village where Orba and the others had escaped to earlier. And they’d taken all spoils of wars before going back to the capital, so that Garbera couldn’t make use of it.

''I’ll kill them'', Orba vowed.

Mustering up the strength from somewhere in his body, although there had not even been one drop left behind earlier, the power that kept him going forward, it came from his unrelenting vow with the intent to kill.

Although he had no clear answers on whether to kill Oubary, the Garberan soldiers, or the Emperor, and on how to achieve those ends, for now, he just kept on walking.

<noinclude>

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
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|-
| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

User:Kiydon

2013-05-20T04:20:59Z

Kiydon:

I'm new to this site, but I've actually read through pretty much all the works translated/hosted here.

I have some experience as an editor/proofreader, and am still learning Japanese, although I'm not at the level that I can translate comfortably on yet. Maybe in the future!

My email is at kiyoshi9565@gmail.com.

Currently editor/proofreader for Rakuin no Monshou on Baka-Tsuki, and for Sayonara Piano Sonata on C.E. Light Novel Translations.

Rakuin no Monshou

2013-05-20T03:35:13Z

Kiydon:

[[File:Rakuin no Monshou v01 cover.jpg|thumb|300px|The cover art of volume 1]]
Rakuin no Monshou (烙印の紋章), "Emblem of the Branded", is a light novel series written by Tomonori Sugihara (杉原智則) and illustrated by 3. The series is published by ASCII Media Works under the Dengeki Bunko label and is completed with 12 volumes.

==Story Synopsis==
The countries of Mephius and Garbera have been waging a war for ten years and are trying to put an end to this long fight through a political marriage between the two royal families. Orba, who was driven from his home because of the war and was forced to become a gladiator, looks exactly like the crown prince of Mephius, and it has been decided he will be substituting him during the wedding ceremony. On the other hand, Vileena, the princess of Garbera, has secretly decided to ensnare the crown prince for her own country’s interests.

=== Other Information Sources ===

Warning: This may contain spoilers.
[http://www.baka-tsuki.org/blog/?p=373 BT Blog]

==Translation==

=== [[Rakuin no Monshou:Registration Page|Registration]] ===
Translators are asked to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Registration Page|register]] for chapters they want to work on.

===Format Standards===
'''Every Chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]
*[[Rakuin no Monshou:Guidelines|Project-Specific Guidelines: Format, Names, and Terminology]]

=== Feedback ===
If you enjoyed the translation, why don't you tell us in the [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=5101&p=173234#p173234 Feedback Thread]

== Updates ==
* Jan 24, 2013 - Initiated as Teaser Project
* Jan 24, 2013 - Volume 1 Prologue completed
* Feb 12, 2013 - Volume 1 Chapter 1 completed
* Mar 14, 2013 - Volume 1 Chapter 2 completed
* Apr 24, 2013 - Volume 1 Chapter 3 completed

==Rakuin no Monshou==

===Volume 1: The Dragon Roars at the Star of Twilight===
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Prologue|Prologue]]
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter1|Chapter 1: Iron and Blood]]
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter2|Chapter 2: Two Boys]]
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter3|Chapter 3: A New Mask]]
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter4|Chapter 4: At Seirin Valley]] (25%)
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter5|Chapter 5:]] (0%)
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter6|Chapter 6:]] (0%)
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter7|Chapter 7:]] (0%)
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Epilogue|Epilogue]] (0%)
:* [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Afterword|Afterword]] (0%)

===Volume 2===
===Volume 3===
===Volume 4===
===Volume 5===
===Volume 6===
===Volume 7===
===Volume 8===
===Volume 9===
===Volume 10===
===Volume 11-1===
===Volume 11-2===

==Project Staff==
* Project Administrator:
* Project Supervisor:

==== Translators ====
:*[[User:Dohma|Dohma]]

==== Editors ====
:*[[user:Tasear|Tasear]]
:*[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

==Series Overview==
烙印の紋章たそがれの星に竜は吠える (10-05-2008, ISBN 978-4-04-867063-0) 
烙印の紋章II 陰謀の都を竜は駆ける (10-11-2008,ISBN 978-4-04-867347-1) 
烙印の紋章III 竜の翼に天は翳ろう (10-04-2009,ISBN 978-40-4-867767-7) 
烙印の紋章IV 竜よ、復讐の爪牙を振るえ (10-08-2009,ISBN 978-40-4-867942-8) 
烙印の紋章V そして竜は荒野に降り立つ (10-03-2010,ISBN 978-40-4-868398-2) 
烙印の紋章VI いにしえの宮に竜はめざめる (10-07-2010,ISBN 978-40-4-868653-2) 
烙印の紋章 VII　愚者たちの挽歌よ、竜に届け (10-12-2010,ISBN 978-4-04-870135-8) 
烙印の紋章 VIII　竜は獅子を喰らいて転生す (10-04-2011,ISBN 978-4-04-870424-3) 
烙印の紋章 IX 征野に竜の慟哭吹きすさぶ (10-09-2011,ISBN 978-4-04-870808-1) 
烙印の紋章 X 竜の雌伏を風は嘆いて (07-01-2012,ISBN 978-4-04-886248-6) 
烙印の紋章 XI あかつきの空を竜は翔ける（上） (08-06-2012,ISBN 978-4-04-886248-6) 
烙印の紋章 XI あかつきの空を竜は翔ける（下） (10-10-2012,ISBN 978-4-04-886983-6) 

[[Category:Dengeki Bunko]]

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-05-19T23:50:00Z

Kiydon:

Splendid work! - Tasear

<hr />

Just for reference: for edits like these, do you still want me to post in here to notify you, or just go ahead on my own? "Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to strengthening the Imperial household’s authority", it should be "Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to the strengthening of the Imperial household's authority." - [[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* No, these kinds of edits are fine by me. Basically if a sentence or word isn't necessarily wrong, but seems 'off' in English, or if you simply don't understand what a sentence is trying to say, post it here (or notify me however you like) so that I can review it with the original Japanese. Grammatical errors, spelling mistakes, conjugation, or me 'skipping' certain words like 'the' or 'a' are my fault, and you can edit them without consulting me first. Besides, I'll notice these edits anyway because I've got these pages on my watchlist, and if I don't agree I'll change it back (I'll try to explain why though). --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:39, 15 May 2013 (CDT)

About "Just because he was bought by a noble, it does the repayment of favour about the last battle, it was as good as to come make an offer to myself." I suggest changing it to "Just because he was bought by a noble, he should repay my favor with this last battle, I had suggested to myself." It seems closer to what is said in the raw,「いくら貴族に買われたからと言って、恩返しに最後の一戦くらいはやります、と自分から申し出てきてもいいくらいだ。」, as far as I understand it. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* I had made a mental note about it myself, it was too much of a direct translations, but I forgot about it. Also didn't quite understand that last clause at first. Changed it.

And "Let’s consider how to raise the pairings in some way,", in this context, shouldn't (盛り上がるような組み合わせ) be taken to mean "Form rousing or exciting pairings"? As it is, it doesn't make much sense. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* You're right. Changed to "Let's consider making some exciting pairings."

<hr />

"Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered it to him like ventriloquism." A couple issues with this sentence; "it" should be replaced with either "words" or something like that, or just removed, since there is no proper antecedent for it. Also, there should be a comma before "like ventriloquism, as it represents another thought separate from the part before. So, it should read "Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered words to him, like ventriloquism." --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* Changed

"These nobles had snatched away his brother to become a soldier." Probably add "force him to" before "become". --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* I was actually looking for a word similar to commandeer, but I'm not so sure it can be used on people (I know you can commandeer cars and stuff, but not to sure about people). A more literal translation is: "These nobles had snatched/taken away his brother (in order) to be a soldier." It never really says they forced him to become a soldier. Changed 'become' into 'be' though.

Here's a bunch of suggestions.

In "...but nobody else but one of those a Mephian nobles" should be changed to "...but none other than one of those Mephian nobles".
* Changed it.

In "...it might be they knew something about his brother Roan’s whereabouts", perhaps change it to "...they might know something about his brother Roan's whereabouts", as though the current sentence is correct, the context places more emphasis on the soldiers.
* Changed it.

In "What… a lie?" A suggest would be to change it to "What...is a lie?", since in the raw it says （何が、嘘、だ).
* I find Orba's entire comment puzzling, because he knows he's lying, so what is he surprised about. I assume he's surprised about the fact she accused him for a liar. So I translated into something like : "What? A lie?". Your translation is indeed closer to the original, but it makes me wonder what Orba means by it.
* I think what Orba means is that he is surprised by Vileena calling him out on lying, since they were unfamiliar, and also of high rank, and probably shouldn't be using casual language.

In "Although the movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, perhaps it was because of the more subdued environment up until the end of the first round, namely, until the loser was turned into a sprawled corpse on the ground.", "although" should be removed, as it isn't a subordinating clause. Also, in the raw, 「慣れない環境のせいか、剣闘士たちの動きはどことなくぎこちなかったものの、それも最初の一戦目が終わるまで、すなわち敗者が屍となって大地に横たわるときまでだった。」 , the unfamiliarity of the environment is also mentioned.
* I assume the unfamiliarity of the environment is due to the subdued/formal nature of the ceremony. But that's actually just what I make of it so I'll use 'unfamiliar'. The second clause ''is'' dependent on the first though, due to the か at the end of the first clause, but I'll change the sentence a bit to make it flow better. End result:
:: "The movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, but perhaps it was because of the unfamiliar environment up until the end of the first round..."

"In Garbera and Ende, with restrictions on slave companies expressly going for the entertainment industry, there wasn’t an opportunity to see a gladiator fight." "Going for" is used incorrectly, as it implies that the slave companies will (in the future) go into the entertainment industry; rather, it should be replaced with "in".
* Changed into "slave companies active in the entertainment industry"

"During that staggering time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena." "Staggering time" sounds really awkward here; I know that in the raw it says よろめいたその間, so I'm not sure what suggestions that I can make other than that it sounds awkward.
* From what I get it's supposed to either mean: "during that lapse in time" or "during the time (where he was) staggering" due to the tremors, I translated it a bit more literally because I can't quite figure out which one it's supposed to be.

”The moment he removed his aim”, about this part, 狙いの外したその瞬間, its rather hard to translate. Perhaps the soldier stopped aiming at the dragon?
* 狙いの外した can also mean he missed the mark, so I'm not quite sure if he took a shot and missed or if he stopped aiming, so I translated it literally.
*I see. It's good then, since I'm not really sure what is being said there as well.

Sorry about that mountain of suggestions! Really nice translation as normal, keep up the great work! Also, my bad on the changing the "wilfully" part (both the first and the second time), didn't know that the British English had a different version, and don't know what happened the second time (I think I had the page open before you edited it, and didn't save until afterwards). --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]].
* No problem, thanks for checking the text. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:00, 19 May 2013 (CDT)

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-05-19T17:56:40Z

Kiydon:

Splendid work! - Tasear

<hr />

Just for reference: for edits like these, do you still want me to post in here to notify you, or just go ahead on my own? "Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to strengthening the Imperial household’s authority", it should be "Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to the strengthening of the Imperial household's authority." - [[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* No, these kinds of edits are fine by me. Basically if a sentence or word isn't necessarily wrong, but seems 'off' in English, or if you simply don't understand what a sentence is trying to say, post it here (or notify me however you like) so that I can review it with the original Japanese. Grammatical errors, spelling mistakes, conjugation, or me 'skipping' certain words like 'the' or 'a' are my fault, and you can edit them without consulting me first. Besides, I'll notice these edits anyway because I've got these pages on my watchlist, and if I don't agree I'll change it back (I'll try to explain why though). --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:39, 15 May 2013 (CDT)

About "Just because he was bought by a noble, it does the repayment of favour about the last battle, it was as good as to come make an offer to myself." I suggest changing it to "Just because he was bought by a noble, he should repay my favor with this last battle, I had suggested to myself." It seems closer to what is said in the raw,「いくら貴族に買われたからと言って、恩返しに最後の一戦くらいはやります、と自分から申し出てきてもいいくらいだ。」, as far as I understand it. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* I had made a mental note about it myself, it was too much of a direct translations, but I forgot about it. Also didn't quite understand that last clause at first. Changed it.

And "Let’s consider how to raise the pairings in some way,", in this context, shouldn't (盛り上がるような組み合わせ) be taken to mean "Form rousing or exciting pairings"? As it is, it doesn't make much sense. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* You're right. Changed to "Let's consider making some exciting pairings."

<hr />

"Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered it to him like ventriloquism." A couple issues with this sentence; "it" should be replaced with either "words" or something like that, or just removed, since there is no proper antecedent for it. Also, there should be a comma before "like ventriloquism, as it represents another thought separate from the part before. So, it should read "Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered words to him, like ventriloquism." --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* Changed

"These nobles had snatched away his brother to become a soldier." Probably add "force him to" before "become". --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* I was actually looking for a word similar to commandeer, but I'm not so sure it can be used on people (I know you can commandeer cars and stuff, but not to sure about people). A more literal translation is: "These nobles had snatched/taken away his brother (in order) to be a soldier." It never really says they forced him to become a soldier. Changed 'become' into 'be' though.

Here's a bunch of suggestions.

In "...but nobody else but one of those a Mephian nobles" should be changed to "...but none other than one of those Mephian nobles".
* Changed it.

In "...it might be they knew something about his brother Roan’s whereabouts", perhaps change it to "...they might know something about his brother Roan's whereabouts", as though the current sentence is correct, the context places more emphasis on the soldiers.
* Changed it.

In "What… a lie?" A suggest would be to change it to "What...is a lie?", since in the raw it says （何が、嘘、だ).
* I find Orba's entire comment puzzling, because he knows he's lying, so what is he surprised about. I assume he's surprised about the fact she accused him for a liar. So I translated into something like : "What? A lie?". Your translation is indeed closer to the original, but it makes me wonder what Orba means by it.
* I think what Orba means is that he is surprised by Vileena calling him out on lying, since they were unfamiliar, and also of high rank, and probably shouldn't be using casual language.

In "Although the movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, perhaps it was because of the more subdued environment up until the end of the first round, namely, until the loser was turned into a sprawled corpse on the ground.", "although" should be removed, as it isn't a subordinating clause. Also, in the raw, 「慣れない環境のせいか、剣闘士たちの動きはどことなくぎこちなかったものの、それも最初の一戦目が終わるまで、すなわち敗者が屍となって大地に横たわるときまでだった。」 , the unfamiliarity of the environment is also mentioned.
* I assume the unfamiliarity of the environment is due to the subdued/formal nature of the ceremony. But that's actually just what I make of it so I'll use 'unfamiliar'. The second clause ''is'' dependent on the first though, due to the か at the end of the first clause, but I'll change the sentence a bit to make it flow better. End result:
:: "The movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, but perhaps it was because of the unfamiliar environment up until the end of the first round..."

"In Garbera and Ende, with restrictions on slave companies expressly going for the entertainment industry, there wasn’t an opportunity to see a gladiator fight." "Going for" is used incorrectly, as it implies that the slave companies will (in the future) go into the entertainment industry; rather, it should be replaced with "in".
* Changed into "slave companies active in the entertainment industry"

"During that staggering time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena." "Staggering time" sounds really awkward here; I know that in the raw it says よろめいたその間, so I'm not sure what suggestions that I can make other than that it sounds awkward.
* From what I get it's supposed to either mean: "during that lapse in time" or "during the time (where he was) staggering" due to the tremors, I translated it a bit more literally because I can't quite figure out which one it's supposed to be.

”The moment he removed his aim”, about this part, 狙いの外したその瞬間, its rather hard to translate. Perhaps the soldier stopped aiming at the dragon?
* 狙いの外した can also mean he missed the mark, so I'm not quite sure if he took a shot and missed or if he stopped aiming, so I translated it literally.

Sorry about that mountain of suggestions! Really nice translation as normal, keep up the great work! Also, my bad on the changing the "wilfully" part (both the first and the second time), didn't know that the British English had a different version, and don't know what happened the second time (I think I had the page open before you edited it, and didn't save until afterwards). --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]].
* No problem, thanks for checking the text. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:00, 19 May 2013 (CDT)

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-05-19T05:34:23Z

Kiydon:

Splendid work! - Tasear

Just for reference: for edits like these, do you still want me to post in here to notify you, or just go ahead on my own? "Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to strengthening the Imperial household’s authority", it should be "Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to the strengthening of the Imperial household's authority." - [[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* No, these kinds of edits are fine by me. Basically if a sentence or word isn't necessarily wrong, but seems 'off' in English, or if you simply don't understand what a sentence is trying to say, post it here (or notify me however you like) so that I can review it with the original Japanese. Grammatical errors, spelling mistakes, conjugation, or me 'skipping' certain words like 'the' or 'a' are my fault, and you can edit them without consulting me first. Besides, I'll notice these edits anyway because I've got these pages on my watchlist, and if I don't agree I'll change it back (I'll try to explain why though). --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:39, 15 May 2013 (CDT)

About "Just because he was bought by a noble, it does the repayment of favour about the last battle, it was as good as to come make an offer to myself." I suggest changing it to "Just because he was bought by a noble, he should repay my favor with this last battle, I had suggested to myself." It seems closer to what is said in the raw,「いくら貴族に買われたからと言って、恩返しに最後の一戦くらいはやります、と自分から申し出てきてもいいくらいだ。」, as far as I understand it. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* I had made a mental note about it myself, it was too much of a direct translations, but I forgot about it. Also didn't quite understand that last clause at first. Changed it.

And "Let’s consider how to raise the pairings in some way,", in this context, shouldn't (盛り上がるような組み合わせ) be taken to mean "Form rousing or exciting pairings"? As it is, it doesn't make much sense. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* You're right. Changed to "Let's consider making some exciting pairings."

"Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered it to him like ventriloquism." A couple issues with this sentence; "it" should be replaced with either "words" or something like that, or just removed, since there is no proper antecedent for it. Also, there should be a comma before "like ventriloquism, as it represents another thought separate from the part before. So, it should read "Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered words to him, like ventriloquism." --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

"These nobles had snatched away his brother to become a soldier." Probably add "force him to" before "become". --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

Here's a bunch of suggestions.

In "...but nobody else but one of those a Mephian nobles" should be changed to "...but none other than one of those Mephian nobles".

In "...it might be they knew something about his brother Roan’s whereabouts", perhaps change it to "...they might know something about his brother Roan's whereabouts", as though the current sentence is correct, the context places more emphasis on the soldiers.

In "What… a lie?" A suggest would be to change it to "What...is a lie?", since in the raw it says （何が、嘘、だ).

In "Although the movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, perhaps it was because of the more subdued environment up until the end of the first round, namely, until the loser was turned into a sprawled corpse on the ground.", "although" should be removed, as it isn't a subordinating clause. Also, in the raw, 「慣れない環境のせいか、剣闘士たちの動きはどことなくぎこちなかったものの、それも最初の一戦目が終わるまで、すなわち敗者が屍となって大地に横たわるときまでだった。」 , the unfamiliarity of the environment is also mentioned.

"In Garbera and Ende, with restrictions on slave companies expressly going for the entertainment industry, there wasn’t an opportunity to see a gladiator fight." "Going for" is used incorrectly, as it implies that the slave companies will (in the future) go into the entertainment industry; rather, it should be replaced with "in".

"During that staggering time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena." "Staggering time" sounds really awkward here; I know that in the raw it says よろめいたその間, so I'm not sure what suggestions that I can make other than that it sounds awkward.

”The moment he removed his aim”, about this part, 狙いの外したその瞬間, its rather hard to translate. Perhaps the soldier stopped aiming at the dragon?

Sorry about that mountain of suggestions! Really nice translation as normal, keep up the great work! Also, my bad on the changing the "wilfully" part (both the first and the second time), didn't know that the British English had a different version, and don't know what happened the second time (I think I had the page open before you edited it, and didn't save until afterwards). --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]].

=== Notes on Terms ===

Chapter 4's coming along, but I've stumbled on a few issues.

'''Mephian'''

Unlike Garbera -> Garberan, I've just kept the genitive case of Mephius the same (Mephius's border / ... of Mephius), but it's getting troublesome. So I've decided to use the term "Mephian" from now on. I considered using Mephii or Mephese, but Mephian seemed best; unless someone feels strongly compelled to use another term...

'''Ryuujin'''

Dragon God (竜神) and Dragon People (竜人) are both pronounced as Ryuujin. Until now I've kept 'dragon people' as Ryuujin and translated Dragon God; and now I also need to check the latter because it seems to be plural (there's more than one dragon god). However, new terms start popping up like 竜神信仰 'Dragon God Faith' that complicate matters, because I think Ryuujin Faith sounds better. So the terms might get mixed up a bit; but I guess this is mainly a concern for future proofreaders and tranlators. I haven't yet figured out how to properly deal with this, but for now it doesn't seem to be a major problem.

Anyway, I plan on rechecking the entire volume once it's finished, so I'll probably get to it by then. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 13:03, 15 May 2013 (CDT)

For stuff like that, once you settle on how you want to translate it, it would be a good idea to create a terms page and put them there. --[[User:Bilagaana|Bilagaana]] ([[User talk:Bilagaana|talk]]) 13:33, 15 May 2013 (CDT)

* I'll do that then. I already started up terms page, so I'll try to put some order into it. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 07:43, 18 May 2013 (CDT)

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-05-19T05:33:12Z

Kiydon:

Splendid work! - Tasear

Just for reference: for edits like these, do you still want me to post in here to notify you, or just go ahead on my own? "Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to strengthening the Imperial household’s authority", it should be "Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to the strengthening of the Imperial household's authority." - [[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* No, these kinds of edits are fine by me. Basically if a sentence or word isn't necessarily wrong, but seems 'off' in English, or if you simply don't understand what a sentence is trying to say, post it here (or notify me however you like) so that I can review it with the original Japanese. Grammatical errors, spelling mistakes, conjugation, or me 'skipping' certain words like 'the' or 'a' are my fault, and you can edit them without consulting me first. Besides, I'll notice these edits anyway because I've got these pages on my watchlist, and if I don't agree I'll change it back (I'll try to explain why though). --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:39, 15 May 2013 (CDT)

About "Just because he was bought by a noble, it does the repayment of favour about the last battle, it was as good as to come make an offer to myself." I suggest changing it to "Just because he was bought by a noble, he should repay my favor with this last battle, I had suggested to myself." It seems closer to what is said in the raw,「いくら貴族に買われたからと言って、恩返しに最後の一戦くらいはやります、と自分から申し出てきてもいいくらいだ。」, as far as I understand it. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* I had made a mental note about it myself, it was too much of a direct translations, but I forgot about it. Also didn't quite understand that last clause at first. Changed it.

And "Let’s consider how to raise the pairings in some way,", in this context, shouldn't (盛り上がるような組み合わせ) be taken to mean "Form rousing or exciting pairings"? As it is, it doesn't make much sense. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* You're right. Changed to "Let's consider making some exciting pairings."

"Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered it to him like ventriloquism." A couple issues with this sentence; "it" should be replaced with either "words" or something like that, or just removed, since there is no proper antecedent for it. Also, there should be a comma before "like ventriloquism, as it represents another thought separate from the part before. So, it should read "Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered words to him, like ventriloquism." --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

"These nobles had snatched away his brother to become a soldier." Probably add "force him to" before "become". --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

Here's a bunch of suggestions.

In "...but nobody else but one of those a Mephian nobles" should be changed to "...but none other than one of those Mephian nobles".

In "...it might be they knew something about his brother Roan’s whereabouts", perhaps change it to "...they might know something about his brother Roan's whereabouts", as though the current sentence is correct, the context places more emphasis on the soldiers.

In "What… a lie?" A suggest would be to change it to "What...is a lie?", since in the raw it says （何が、嘘、だ).

In "Although the movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, perhaps it was because of the more subdued environment up until the end of the first round, namely, until the loser was turned into a sprawled corpse on the ground.", "although" should be removed, as it isn't a subordinating clause. Also, in the raw, 「慣れない環境のせいか、剣闘士たちの動きはどことなくぎこちなかったものの、それも最初の一戦目が終わるまで、すなわち敗者が屍となって大地に横たわるときまでだった。」 , the unfamiliarity of the environment is also mentioned.

"In Garbera and Ende, with restrictions on slave companies expressly going for the entertainment industry, there wasn’t an opportunity to see a gladiator fight." "Going for" is used incorrectly, as it implies that the slave companies will (in the future) go into the entertainment industry; rather, it should be replaced with "in".

"During that staggering time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena." "Staggering time" sounds really awkward here; I know that in the raw it says よろめいたその間, so I'm not sure what suggestions that I can make other than that it sounds awkward.

”The moment he removed his aim”, about this part, 狙いの外したその瞬間, its rather hard to translate. Perhaps the soldier stopped aiming at the dragon?

Sorry about that mountain of suggestions! Really nice translation as normal, keep up the great work! Also, my bad on the changing the "wilfully" part (both the first and the second time), didn't know that the British English had a different version, and don't know what happened the second time. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]].

=== Notes on Terms ===

Chapter 4's coming along, but I've stumbled on a few issues.

'''Mephian'''

Unlike Garbera -> Garberan, I've just kept the genitive case of Mephius the same (Mephius's border / ... of Mephius), but it's getting troublesome. So I've decided to use the term "Mephian" from now on. I considered using Mephii or Mephese, but Mephian seemed best; unless someone feels strongly compelled to use another term...

'''Ryuujin'''

Dragon God (竜神) and Dragon People (竜人) are both pronounced as Ryuujin. Until now I've kept 'dragon people' as Ryuujin and translated Dragon God; and now I also need to check the latter because it seems to be plural (there's more than one dragon god). However, new terms start popping up like 竜神信仰 'Dragon God Faith' that complicate matters, because I think Ryuujin Faith sounds better. So the terms might get mixed up a bit; but I guess this is mainly a concern for future proofreaders and tranlators. I haven't yet figured out how to properly deal with this, but for now it doesn't seem to be a major problem.

Anyway, I plan on rechecking the entire volume once it's finished, so I'll probably get to it by then. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 13:03, 15 May 2013 (CDT)

For stuff like that, once you settle on how you want to translate it, it would be a good idea to create a terms page and put them there. --[[User:Bilagaana|Bilagaana]] ([[User talk:Bilagaana|talk]]) 13:33, 15 May 2013 (CDT)

* I'll do that then. I already started up terms page, so I'll try to put some order into it. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 07:43, 18 May 2013 (CDT)

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-05-18T20:54:48Z

Kiydon:

{{Incomplete|percentage=25}}
== Chapter 4: At Seirin Valley ==

=== Part 1 ===

As far as Simon Rodloom was concerned, Fedom, the Lord of Birac, showed no signs of a change of heart.

Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to strengthening of the Imperial household’s authority, Simon was still a leading aristocrat. He grasped the movements of the other nobles to some extent, their principles and claims, and also intended to understand their situation.

According to Simon’s insights, Fedom was clearly one of the anti-imperial faction.

He had persuaded the emperor, who actually wanted to continue the war with Garbera, and as the leader of the group promoting the peace negotiations, he had built up support for himself amongst the Imperial Court. Although, for a leader, his slight wisdom was partly insufficient, he was much better compared to the other group of corrupted nobles.

However, that Fedom was definitely acting strange. Since last night’s party – no, ever since they headed out for Seirin Valley – he had for some reason been sticking close to Prince Gil, just like a wet nurse poking her nose into people’s business here and there.

''Did he say he’d educate the prince, just to raise him into a puppet doing his will?''

That thought passed through his mind, but wasn’t it a little too late to take such actions now?

Incidentally, it was also related to the prince himself. As far as he knew, Prince Gil and Fedom should have hardly exchanged any words. When the prince hung around with his young friends, Simon had always heard him call the man ‘that manipulative wannabe swine’ behind his back.

How come he seemed to generously accept Fedom’s sudden intimacy or – even worse – seemed to rely on him?

Aside from making sure by meeting with the prince in private, there was a lot of work left for Simon. A delegation from the Principality of Ende had also rushed in for congratulations, although it was unusual that they decided to only a week ago. At first, there had also been talks of Ende and Garbera forming a bond by engaging royal partners, but it had probably been just one of the many things Ende and Garbera had in mind. Simon was pressed to welcome them.

But somewhere else,

“That ungrateful bastard, Orba!”

It was Tarkas, rudely snorting and prowling about in the room.

Even if he’d come over so abruptly, when he thought of the Mephius’ nobleman Fedom’s sudden visit, why had he bought Orba without asking for consent?

“The one who raised him was me! Shit, he was just about to earn his pay as a working swordsman, when of all things he had to be snatched away by some noble…!”

“We do not understand it either, though.”

He had summoned Shique, Gowen and Gilliam, his main swordsmen, at a private room inside the cliffs, established for Tarkas’s use. They were here because he had to change the pairings of the competition due to Orba’s sudden departure.

“So why was it decided that Orba had to suddenly be pulled out? Although that kid may be a good swordsman, he was the so-called spearhead of the games to celebrate the wedding. If he simply wanted to purchase Orba for his abilities, I think they should’ve made him participate in the fights.”

“I would also like to know – that shithead!” Tarkas said. “Even though he was bought by a noble, he could've at least offered himself up for the last battle as a favour. That son of a bitch!”

“Maybe it’s because we were supposed to kill each other. I’ll surely celebrate his new life, but I can’t get used to this feeling, and I’m bothered about him leaving without a single word.”

“Oh, Gilliam. Does even a man like you get lonely when one of his acquaintances leaves?”

“Shut it, Shique! I just regret that I haven’t settled things with that guy!”

“Well, it can’t be helped that he isn’t here. Let’s consider making some exciting pairings,” Gowen said in order to calm everyone down.

Naturally, he also felt a bit strange lately.

He had no time to figure out what had happened. He had to take a look at the condition of the newcomers Tarkas had bought, and because this was different from the usual procedure, he also had to review every single swordsman.

However, something that faintly weighed on Gowen’s mind was whether Orba, who had been looking forward to a future even when his mind and body got beaten down, was now living in that very same future.

While people were busily moving about around him, former gladiator Orba seemed to have time to spare, being practically left on his own.
Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered it to him like ventriloquism.

''It’s strange...''

These nobles had snatched away his brother to become a soldier. Not only had they abandoned their village but, of all things, the nobility had aimed its blades at its own citizens and had taken Alice away, causing him to fall into a life of slavery and making him wear that mask.

It might be because of a whim of fate, but nobody else but one of those a Mephian nobles, suddenly plucked Orba out of his life of slavery and ordered him to become a substitute for one of leading figures in the imperial family.

Theft, extortion and illegal gun trading – having lived off sipping water from the gutter, he couldn’t help but think he was a laughingstock for the crown prince. Although the fact that he still didn’t know what another day might bring was similar to being a slave.

However – being on the other side of those black plastered streets – perhaps now he could expect to find one spot, yes, just one spot of light. When he becomes the prince’s body double, he’ll have the opportunity to come in contact with leading figures, other than Fedom of course. It wouldn’t be so strange to find the one who burned down his village – General Oubary – among them.

Although Orba had been hit on his head back then and had only seen him for a moment with a dazed glance, for all those two years he’d been a sword-slave, he hadn’t forgotten his face for even a day. Even now it vividly came back to him in his mind.

“Gil-sama.”

''If we meet again.''

''I wonder what I should do then.''

The boy swordsman, who had his mask removed, continued sinking in ceaseless thoughts. He would think of a way to give the guy the most miserable death possible, as long as it was conceivable in this world. Besides, if he was able to meet up with Oubary, he could trace back the lines to the time he got separated from Alice and his mother. Also, although he himself did not expect too much of it – for he couldn’t wish for the unimaginable over and over again and virtually hope for a miracle – if he found other people recruited as soldiers by Oubary, it might be they knew something about his brother Roan’s whereabouts.

“Gil-sama, Prince. Prince Gil!”

“Eh?”

Being spoken to in such a firm voice, Orba looked to his side.

Princess Vileena was sitting at a distance not too far from him. She was in front of the altar, at the place where the valley was at its deepest, looking out over the area. Only Vileena and Orba were sitting in chairs, with a stalwart group of soldiers surroundings them, while at the front of the altar, priests were chanting hymns of prayer and blessing.

“What is it you’re thinking of?”

“Nothing,” Orba replied curtly.

It wasn’t possible for Fedom to be around him during the ceremony, so he’d told him to ‘say nothing’ in the meantime. Turning his face forward, he pretended to be concentrating on the ceremony.

“That’s a lie,” Vileena decided, also in a curt manner.

''What… a lie?''

The timing was so excellent that Orba couldn’t ignore it, and he again gave the princess of the Kingdom of Garbera a glance.

She was again wearing a dress, but a different one from yesterday’s party, and she wore an informal tiara on her head. This close, it surprised him. Although she seemed like only a little girl the first time they met face to face, when she turned aside with a serious look every once in a while, she looked really mature.

He wondered if it was because of her clear-cut features, although Orba thought her face looked much like a doll’s. At the moment, except for being from a different birth, she seemed almost the same as Orba. Only moving when told to, and only speaking when told to by someone else.

Indeed, when he thought about it, that was what this wedding was all about. Even though she was only fourteen years old, in contrast to her true wishes, she has to become the wife of a man she only first met yesterday, and was of a former enemy country to boot. Although he couldn’t get himself to feel sympathy for someone like her, who was born in a royal family, she seemed to have various hardships of her own as well.

''So, it’s the same for everyone.''

He suddenly remembered that voice.

''– Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. Everybody longs for a world they don’t know, and pursue a meaning in life for which they’ve been born – even if he’s a priest, or royalty.''

''It was just like Roan said'', Orba groaned deep inside.

“You really ''are'' lost in thought.”

When she once again spoke to him out of the blue, Orba impolitely replied with the words,

“So what?”

Vileena chuckled.

“For quite a while, I thought you had frightening eyes at times, but now you seem to smile, thinking of something pleasant. Please tell me, you who are about to become my husband – what is it that troubles you on such a fine day, and what on earth is this matter you can’t help but remember?”

The ceremony went on. They had grilled a dragon they just killed this morning, and while they scattered the bones across the base of the valley, the priests chanted their prayers. They called for the souls of the dragons that once ruled this planet to protect the country’s prosperity.

“Could it be that the Ryuujin, if they come back, may not necessarily give this place their blessings?”

Back when humankind landed on this planet, the dragons only roamed the fields and thought of nothing but filling their stomachs, in short, they had degenerated to being on the same level as beasts.

However, they excavated the ruins of enormous cities and artefacts of unknown purpose here and there on the planet, and there also seemed to be traces of a magical civilization that possibly used some form of ''ether''<ref>It's called 'ether', but the author uses the characters for 'Elementary' and 'Magic'</ref>. Humankind was able to wield their first ‘magic’, Zodias, after a while, and this blessing of wisdom was said to have all been obtained from these dragons’ ruins. It was believed that the ancient dragons formed the intelligent body that once governed this planet, probably thousands of years before humankind ultimately arrived.

The custom to call those dragons of old ‘Dragon Gods’ or ‘Ryuujin’ was particularly Mephian, and there was a time it was the religious faith in all of the country. Although it’s now a mere shadow of its former self, for important rituals like these, the priest who presided over the ceremony was selected and summoned from one of the tribes of nomads living in the area near the Mephian border, where the roots of the Ryuujin Faith lay.

“Like I said, it’s nothing.”

Again, Orba briefly ended the conversation.

He had received a brief explanation from the page, Dinn, concerning the history of the Ryuujin Faith, but naturally he didn’t feel too strongly about it. So, he wasn’t able to tell whether Vileena had been joking or not.

''If the real prince’s and this girl’s relations grows awkward after this, I won’t be taking responsibility for it, Fedom-sama.''

On the other hand, Vileena finally gave a sigh, getting lost in her own thoughts. For Garbera, the dragons having a civilization equal to or greater than that of the humans in the past was viewed upon as nothing more than a ‘dragon god’ legend. Therefore she could not experience this ceremony as something sacred. And although she had gotten carelessly and completely bored, when she glanced at the person next to her, Prince Gil – the one who would become her husband when this ceremony was finally over – she couldn’t help but be distracted. So, to slightly stave off her boredom, she tried to tease him a little. But, possibly revealing his ‘true character’, although she tried her best to look like a lady, the prince was genuinely blunt. Not only that, his brief way of talking really got on her nerves.

She wondered if it was because he was embarrassed. During last night’s party, she hadn’t caught wind of his behaviour being resentful against women either. But when she thought he might be a bit like Ryucown, Vileena felt offended by herself. There was no way the bravest general of Garbera resembled someone who was rumoured to be a complete ‘retard’ here in Mephius.

''In any case, this is the same thing as war. To fool the enemy, I have to keep up the pace in this place.''

Vileena maintained her smile, pretending not to be offended. She hoped the prince would fall madly in love with her. However, if he had some sort of love affair with a distant girl, well, she didn’t know whether or not it would be the result. Anyway, it wouldn’t be a problem if she kept smiling.

''Grandfather also told me that he loved my smiling face above all. So in that case, I shouldn’t be mistaken.''

The priests’ tedious prayers would be over soon, and then the sword-slave battles would finally take place.

It was said to be part of the ceremony that, when the dragon bones have turned to ash and are poured over the ground, the lifeblood of men is given. Nevertheless, what they did was hardly any different from your everyday gladiator battles. The only difference was that the introductory remarks were slightly more formal than usual. The arena, a levelled ground at the bottom of the valley with only some pillars staked into the earth, was even simpler than the usual.

There, the gladiators were standing in rows to the east and west sides. Orba recognized Tarkas, Gowen, and a lot of other faces he knew, and an unusually boyish smile appeared on his face.

''I doubt those guys would even imagine I’m right here.''

Although Tarkas was probably furious about him having left so suddenly, exactly because it happened so soon, it wouldn’t occur to him that he’d be looking down from such a high position.

Vileena, on the other hand, despite having been informed of this earlier, was looking on with gloomy thoughts about slaves having to kill each other hereafter. There was no slavery in Garbera, which was the main reason they spoke ill of Mephius as a country of barbarians.

''Unsatisfied with the war, have they willfully made a show of looking down slaves and forcing them to kill each other?''

When the divination was over, the first group of people stepped forward. Although the movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, perhaps it was because of the more subdued environment up until the end of the first round, namely, until the loser was turned into a sprawled corpse on the ground.

In Garbera and Ende, with restrictions on slave companies expressly going for the entertainment industry, there wasn’t an opportunity to see a gladiator fight. So, although the envoys had been prejudiced at first, and although it looked like they might have been enraged as the sound of clashing swords ran about, before long, they ended up bending over the stands, clenching their fists tight, giving cheers along with the people of Mephius, and started giving their applause.

Vileena soon got sick of it. Then, thinking of His Lordship, she again peeked to her side. When she saw a huge, grinning smile on his face, Vileena again felt a renewed disappointment appear. No matter how she looked at it, he clearly enjoyed seeing them kill each other from the bottom of his heart. She had assumed that he would like it, but not to this extent.

Suddenly, she was no longer able to restrain her feelings. The once disdainful feelings for her partner had turned into emotional disgust. It all happened so sudden, and she herself was actually quite perplexed. She was again reminded of how she, until just now, had to constantly try to subdue her emotions. Even though she was the princess of a country who had said she would give priority to her own nation before herself, she was only fourteen years old.

''I can’t, I can’t!''

Vileena strongly clutched her fists in her lap.

''This, too, is a battle. This, too, is a trail, Vileena. My body was given a push in the back and sent forward. I can’t let my spirit lose its strength like this.''

Shique stepped forward at the arena. The cheers concentrated on this unique gladiator, with a decadent white-painted face. Looking at his opponent, however… Orba raised his eyebrows.

''He’s…''

For some reason, it was one of the newcomers Tarkas had hired in his good mood. Taking Shique’s skills into consideration, it was obvious this opponent wasn’t suitably matched. Even if he was able to liven up the battle, Tarkas had struck a bad deal. This would be over in an instant.

Shique readied his trademark dual swords. Both were single-bladed swords of middle length. The newcomer nervously stood ready on the other side. This would be over within the blink of an eye – or so Orba thought at the time.

But while he thought this, he heard a loud rumbling through the ground, which practically shook violently under his feet. During that staggering time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena.

Those soldiers who looked up at the dust, towards whatever it was, were the first to fall victim. Although they’d gathered around the arena carrying spears and guns, they also hadn’t expected such a sudden occurrence, and were crushed to death underneath a dragon’s forelegs. As soon as the clots of blood painted the ground bright red, a scaled dragon, tinged with slime here and there, emerged from the cloud of dust. The huge-shaped mass was basically stepping forward.

It was a large-type dragon, Sozos. Chains were supposed to be tie to its feet and naturally it should have also be locked up in a cage, but the dragon had become a freed creature, and even more of them appeared all at once.

“Wh-Whaahh!!”

One soldier, stunned by the death of his colleagues, fired his readied gun. The moment he removed his aim, a sharp claw about three times his height swung down on his body and he immediately splattered into a heap of flesh on the ground. Then the other soldiers who were near him, shrieked like women, dropped their guns, and started running away. Their screams and shouts began to sound much like the rumbling in the ground.

“W-What, what’s going on?”

“Why are the dragons on a rampage?”

A large number of people started bellowing at each other underneath their tents. The dragons that were to be used by the gladiators had broken through their cages and were rampaging about. There were some people who picked up swords and guns and headed for the guards, some who ran as fast as they could, and some who spread instructions to their subordinates – mixed in with a lot of other people.

Orba stood up from his chair. For a moment he couldn’t see Shique’s figure from under the cover of the dust cloud. Then one of the gladiators, the one who was the next to go, got kicked hard by a Baian. And another, someone from the Tarkas Group who tried to recklessly lunge at their bellies, got trampled under a Sozos.

Then, he spotted a single, small silhouette among those dragons. It was Hou Ran. She was probably running around in tears trying to stop the dragons. There were several times when she barely escaped being kicked around by the dragons’ legs.

''Lend me a gun.''

Orba came close to shouting those words and taking a rifle from one of the guards. However, he was interrupted halfway as he suddenly he felt a sharp pain at a certain spot on his forehead.

“Ah!”

Guided by impulse and not by reason, Orba quickly concealed his body under the table. Something was flying overhead, high in the sky, at a great speed. Someone with the intent to kill. As it took form, he had a feeling that it was aiming for the ground.

''A sniper!''

Blended in with the sound of the dragon’s feet, the raised screams of the people, and the angry voices, was most definitely the sound of a rifle’s gunshot that rattled his eardrums.

=== Part 2 ===

===References and Translation Notes===
<references/>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter5|Chapter 5]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-05-18T20:34:32Z

Kiydon:

Splendid work! - Tasear

Just for reference: for edits like these, do you still want me to post in here to notify you, or just go ahead on my own? "Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to strengthening the Imperial household’s authority", it should be "Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to the strengthening of the Imperial household's authority." - [[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* No, these kinds of edits are fine by me. Basically if a sentence or word isn't necessarily wrong, but seems 'off' in English, or if you simply don't understand what a sentence is trying to say, post it here (or notify me however you like) so that I can review it with the original Japanese. Grammatical errors, spelling mistakes, conjugation, or me 'skipping' certain words like 'the' or 'a' are my fault, and you can edit them without consulting me first. Besides, I'll notice these edits anyway because I've got these pages on my watchlist, and if I don't agree I'll change it back (I'll try to explain why though). --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:39, 15 May 2013 (CDT)

About "Just because he was bought by a noble, it does the repayment of favour about the last battle, it was as good as to come make an offer to myself." I suggest changing it to "Just because he was bought by a noble, he should repay my favor with this last battle, I had suggested to myself." It seems closer to what is said in the raw,「いくら貴族に買われたからと言って、恩返しに最後の一戦くらいはやります、と自分から申し出てきてもいいくらいだ。」, as far as I understand it. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* I had made a mental note about it myself, it was too much of a direct translations, but I forgot about it. Also didn't quite understand that last clause at first. Changed it.

And "Let’s consider how to raise the pairings in some way,", in this context, shouldn't (盛り上がるような組み合わせ) be taken to mean "Form rousing or exciting pairings"? As it is, it doesn't make much sense. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* You're right. Changed to "Let's consider making some exciting pairings."

"Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered it to him like ventriloquism." A couple issues with this sentence; "it" should be replaced with either "words" or something like that, or just removed, since there is no proper antecedent for it. Also, there should be a comma before "like ventriloquism, as it represents another thought separate from the part before. So, it should read "Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered words to him, like ventriloquism." --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

"These nobles had snatched away his brother to become a soldier." Probably add "force him to" before "become". --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

Here's a bunch of suggestions.

In "...but nobody else but one of those a Mephian nobles" should be changed to "...but none other than one of those Mephian nobles".

In "...it might be they knew something about his brother Roan’s whereabouts", perhaps change it to "...they might know something about his brother Roan's whereabouts", as though the current sentence is correct, the context places more emphasis on the soldiers.

In "What… a lie?" A suggest would be to change it to "What...is a lie?", since in the raw it says （何が、嘘、だ).

In "Although the movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, perhaps it was because of the more subdued environment up until the end of the first round, namely, until the loser was turned into a sprawled corpse on the ground.", "although" should be removed, as it isn't a subordinating clause. Also, in the raw, 「慣れない環境のせいか、剣闘士たちの動きはどことなくぎこちなかったものの、それも最初の一戦目が終わるまで、すなわち敗者が屍となって大地に横たわるときまでだった。」 , the unfamiliarity of the environment is also mentioned.

"In Garbera and Ende, with restrictions on slave companies expressly going for the entertainment industry, there wasn’t an opportunity to see a gladiator fight." "Going for" is used incorrectly, as it implies that the slave companies will (in the future) go into the entertainment industry; rather, it should be replaced with "in".

"During that staggering time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena." "Staggering time" sounds really awkward here; I know that in the raw it says よろめいたその間, so I'm not sure what suggestions that I can make other than that it sounds awkward.

”The moment he removed his aim”, about this part, 狙いの外したその瞬間, its rather hard to translate. Perhaps the soldier stopped aiming at the dragon?

Sorry about that mountain of suggestions! Really nice translation as normal, keep up the great work! --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]].

=== Notes on Terms ===

Chapter 4's coming along, but I've stumbled on a few issues.

'''Mephian'''

Unlike Garbera -> Garberan, I've just kept the genitive case of Mephius the same (Mephius's border / ... of Mephius), but it's getting troublesome. So I've decided to use the term "Mephian" from now on. I considered using Mephii or Mephese, but Mephian seemed best; unless someone feels strongly compelled to use another term...

'''Ryuujin'''

Dragon God (竜神) and Dragon People (竜人) are both pronounced as Ryuujin. Until now I've kept 'dragon people' as Ryuujin and translated Dragon God; and now I also need to check the latter because it seems to be plural (there's more than one dragon god). However, new terms start popping up like 竜神信仰 'Dragon God Faith' that complicate matters, because I think Ryuujin Faith sounds better. So the terms might get mixed up a bit; but I guess this is mainly a concern for future proofreaders and tranlators. I haven't yet figured out how to properly deal with this, but for now it doesn't seem to be a major problem.

Anyway, I plan on rechecking the entire volume once it's finished, so I'll probably get to it by then. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 13:03, 15 May 2013 (CDT)

For stuff like that, once you settle on how you want to translate it, it would be a good idea to create a terms page and put them there. --[[User:Bilagaana|Bilagaana]] ([[User talk:Bilagaana|talk]]) 13:33, 15 May 2013 (CDT)

* I'll do that then. I already started up terms page, so I'll try to put some order into it. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 07:43, 18 May 2013 (CDT)

Talk:Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-05-18T20:34:01Z

Kiydon:

Splendid work! - Tasear

Just for reference: for edits like these, do you still want me to post in here to notify you, or just go ahead on my own? "Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to strengthening the Imperial household’s authority", it should be "Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to the strengthening of the Imperial household's authority." - [[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* No, these kinds of edits are fine by me. Basically if a sentence or word isn't necessarily wrong, but seems 'off' in English, or if you simply don't understand what a sentence is trying to say, post it here (or notify me however you like) so that I can review it with the original Japanese. Grammatical errors, spelling mistakes, conjugation, or me 'skipping' certain words like 'the' or 'a' are my fault, and you can edit them without consulting me first. Besides, I'll notice these edits anyway because I've got these pages on my watchlist, and if I don't agree I'll change it back (I'll try to explain why though). --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 06:39, 15 May 2013 (CDT)

About "Just because he was bought by a noble, it does the repayment of favour about the last battle, it was as good as to come make an offer to myself." I suggest changing it to "Just because he was bought by a noble, he should repay my favor with this last battle, I had suggested to myself." It seems closer to what is said in the raw,「いくら貴族に買われたからと言って、恩返しに最後の一戦くらいはやります、と自分から申し出てきてもいいくらいだ。」, as far as I understand it. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* I had made a mental note about it myself, it was too much of a direct translations, but I forgot about it. Also didn't quite understand that last clause at first. Changed it.

And "Let’s consider how to raise the pairings in some way,", in this context, shouldn't (盛り上がるような組み合わせ) be taken to mean "Form rousing or exciting pairings"? As it is, it doesn't make much sense. --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]
* You're right. Changed to "Let's consider making some exciting pairings."

"Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered it to him like ventriloquism." A couple issues with this sentence; "it" should be replaced with either "words" or something like that, or just removed, since there is no proper antecedent for it. Also, there should be a comma before "like ventriloquism, as it represents another thought separate from the part before. So, it should read "Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered words to him, like ventriloquism." --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

"These nobles had snatched away his brother to become a soldier." Probably add "force him to" before "become". --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]]

Here's a bunch of suggestions. In "...but nobody else but one of those a Mephian nobles" should be changed to "...but none other than one of those Mephian nobles".
In "...it might be they knew something about his brother Roan’s whereabouts", perhaps change it to "...they might know something about his brother Roan's whereabouts", as though the current sentence is correct, the context places more emphasis on the soldiers.
In "What… a lie?" A suggest would be to change it to "What...is a lie?", since in the raw it says （何が、嘘、だ).
In "Although the movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, perhaps it was because of the more subdued environment up until the end of the first round, namely, until the loser was turned into a sprawled corpse on the ground.", "although" should be removed, as it isn't a subordinating clause. Also, in the raw, 「慣れない環境のせいか、剣闘士たちの動きはどことなくぎこちなかったものの、それも最初の一戦目が終わるまで、すなわち敗者が屍となって大地に横たわるときまでだった。」 , the unfamiliarity of the environment is also mentioned.
"In Garbera and Ende, with restrictions on slave companies expressly going for the entertainment industry, there wasn’t an opportunity to see a gladiator fight." "Going for" is used incorrectly, as it implies that the slave companies will (in the future) go into the entertainment industry; rather, it should be replaced with "in".
"During that staggering time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena." "Staggering time" sounds really awkward here; I know that in the raw it says よろめいたその間, so I'm not sure what suggestions that I can make other than that it sounds awkward.
”The moment he removed his aim”, about this part, 狙いの外したその瞬間, its rather hard to translate. Perhaps the soldier stopped aiming at the dragon?
Sorry about that mountain of suggestions! Really nice translation as normal, keep up the great work! --[[User:Kiydon|Kiydon]].

=== Notes on Terms ===

Chapter 4's coming along, but I've stumbled on a few issues.

'''Mephian'''

Unlike Garbera -> Garberan, I've just kept the genitive case of Mephius the same (Mephius's border / ... of Mephius), but it's getting troublesome. So I've decided to use the term "Mephian" from now on. I considered using Mephii or Mephese, but Mephian seemed best; unless someone feels strongly compelled to use another term...

'''Ryuujin'''

Dragon God (竜神) and Dragon People (竜人) are both pronounced as Ryuujin. Until now I've kept 'dragon people' as Ryuujin and translated Dragon God; and now I also need to check the latter because it seems to be plural (there's more than one dragon god). However, new terms start popping up like 竜神信仰 'Dragon God Faith' that complicate matters, because I think Ryuujin Faith sounds better. So the terms might get mixed up a bit; but I guess this is mainly a concern for future proofreaders and tranlators. I haven't yet figured out how to properly deal with this, but for now it doesn't seem to be a major problem.

Anyway, I plan on rechecking the entire volume once it's finished, so I'll probably get to it by then. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 13:03, 15 May 2013 (CDT)

For stuff like that, once you settle on how you want to translate it, it would be a good idea to create a terms page and put them there. --[[User:Bilagaana|Bilagaana]] ([[User talk:Bilagaana|talk]]) 13:33, 15 May 2013 (CDT)

* I'll do that then. I already started up terms page, so I'll try to put some order into it. --[[User:Dohma|Dohma]] ([[User talk:Dohma|talk]]) 07:43, 18 May 2013 (CDT)

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter4

2013-05-18T20:33:12Z

Kiydon: Minor edits

{{Incomplete|percentage=25}}
== Chapter 4: At Seirin Valley ==

=== Part 1 ===

As far as Simon Rodloom was concerned, Fedom, the Lord of Birac, showed no signs of a change of heart.

Despite the council having become a more nominal existence due to strengthening of the Imperial household’s authority, Simon was still a leading aristocrat. He grasped the movements of the other nobles to some extent, their principles and claims, and also intended to understand their situation.

According to Simon’s insights, Fedom was clearly one of the anti-imperial faction.

He had persuaded the emperor, who actually wanted to continue the war with Garbera, and as the leader of the group promoting the peace negotiations, he had built up support for himself amongst the Imperial Court. Although, for a leader, his slight wisdom was partly insufficient, he was much better compared to the other group of corrupted nobles.

However, that Fedom was definitely acting strange. Since last night’s party – no, ever since they headed out for Seirin Valley – he had for some reason been sticking close to Prince Gil, just like a wet nurse poking her nose into people’s business here and there.

''Did he say he’d educate the prince, just to raise him into a puppet doing his will?''

That thought passed through his mind, but wasn’t it a little too late to take such actions now?

Incidentally, it was also related to the prince himself. As far as he knew, Prince Gil and Fedom should have hardly exchanged any words. When the prince hung around with his young friends, Simon had always heard him call the man ‘that manipulative wannabe swine’ behind his back.

How come he seemed to generously accept Fedom’s sudden intimacy or – even worse – seemed to rely on him?

Aside from making sure by meeting with the prince in private, there was a lot of work left for Simon. A delegation from the Principality of Ende had also rushed in for congratulations, although it was unusual that they decided to only a week ago. At first, there had also been talks of Ende and Garbera forming a bond by engaging royal partners, but it had probably been just one of the many things Ende and Garbera had in mind. Simon was pressed to welcome them.

But somewhere else,

“That ungrateful bastard, Orba!”

It was Tarkas, rudely snorting and prowling about in the room.

Even if he’d come over so abruptly, when he thought of the Mephius’ nobleman Fedom’s sudden visit, why had he bought Orba without asking for consent?

“The one who raised him was me! Shit, he was just about to earn his pay as a working swordsman, when of all things he had to be snatched away by some noble…!”

“We do not understand it either, though.”

He had summoned Shique, Gowen and Gilliam, his main swordsmen, at a private room inside the cliffs, established for Tarkas’s use. They were here because he had to change the pairings of the competition due to Orba’s sudden departure.

“So why was it decided that Orba had to suddenly be pulled out? Although that kid may be a good swordsman, he was the so-called spearhead of the games to celebrate the wedding. If he simply wanted to purchase Orba for his abilities, I think they should’ve made him participate in the fights.”

“I would also like to know – that shithead!” Tarkas said. “Even though he was bought by a noble, he could've at least offered himself up for the last battle as a favour. That son of a bitch!”

“Maybe it’s because we were supposed to kill each other. I’ll surely celebrate his new life, but I can’t get used to this feeling, and I’m bothered about him leaving without a single word.”

“Oh, Gilliam. Does even a man like you get lonely when one of his acquaintances leaves?”

“Shut it, Shique! I just regret that I haven’t settled things with that guy!”

“Well, it can’t be helped that he isn’t here. Let’s consider making some exciting pairings,” Gowen said in order to calm everyone down.

Naturally, he also felt a bit strange lately.

He had no time to figure out what had happened. He had to take a look at the condition of the newcomers Tarkas had bought, and because this was different from the usual procedure, he also had to review every single swordsman.

However, something that faintly weighed on Gowen’s mind was whether Orba, who had been looking forward to a future even when his mind and body got beaten down, was now living in that very same future.

While people were busily moving about around him, former gladiator Orba seemed to have time to spare, being practically left on his own.
Being tasked as a body double was fine, but he couldn’t talk unless Fedom whispered it to him like ventriloquism.

''It’s strange...''

These nobles had snatched away his brother to become a soldier. Not only had they abandoned their village but, of all things, the nobility had aimed its blades at its own citizens and had taken Alice away, causing him to fall into a life of slavery and making him wear that mask.

It might be because of a whim of fate, but nobody else but one of those a Mephian nobles, suddenly plucked Orba out of his life of slavery and ordered him to become a substitute for one of leading figures in the imperial family.

Theft, extortion and illegal gun trading – having lived off sipping water from the gutter, he couldn’t help but think he was a laughingstock for the crown prince. Although the fact that he still didn’t know what another day might bring was similar to being a slave.

However – being on the other side of those black plastered streets – perhaps now he could expect to find one spot, yes, just one spot of light. When he becomes the prince’s body double, he’ll have the opportunity to come in contact with leading figures, other than Fedom of course. It wouldn’t be so strange to find the one who burned down his village – General Oubary – among them.

Although Orba had been hit on his head back then and had only seen him for a moment with a dazed glance, for all those two years he’d been a sword-slave, he hadn’t forgotten his face for even a day. Even now it vividly came back to him in his mind.

“Gil-sama.”

''If we meet again.''

''I wonder what I should do then.''

The boy swordsman, who had his mask removed, continued sinking in ceaseless thoughts. He would think of a way to give the guy the most miserable death possible, as long as it was conceivable in this world. Besides, if he was able to meet up with Oubary, he could trace back the lines to the time he got separated from Alice and his mother. Also, although he himself did not expect too much of it – for he couldn’t wish for the unimaginable over and over again and virtually hope for a miracle – if he found other people recruited as soldiers by Oubary, it might be they knew something about his brother Roan’s whereabouts.

“Gil-sama, Prince. Prince Gil!”

“Eh?”

Being spoken to in such a firm voice, Orba looked to his side.

Princess Vileena was sitting at a distance not too far from him. She was in front of the altar, at the place where the valley was at its deepest, looking out over the area. Only Vileena and Orba were sitting in chairs, with a stalwart group of soldiers surroundings them, while at the front of the altar, priests were chanting hymns of prayer and blessing.

“What is it you’re thinking of?”

“Nothing,” Orba replied curtly.

It wasn’t possible for Fedom to be around him during the ceremony, so he’d told him to ‘say nothing’ in the meantime. Turning his face forward, he pretended to be concentrating on the ceremony.

“That’s a lie,” Vileena decided, also in a curt manner.

''What… a lie?''

The timing was so excellent that Orba couldn’t ignore it, and he again gave the princess of the Kingdom of Garbera a glance.

She was again wearing a dress, but a different one from yesterday’s party, and she wore an informal tiara on her head. This close, it surprised him. Although she seemed like only a little girl the first time they met face to face, when she turned aside with a serious look every once in a while, she looked really mature.

He wondered if it was because of her clear-cut features, although Orba thought her face looked much like a doll’s. At the moment, except for being from a different birth, she seemed almost the same as Orba. Only moving when told to, and only speaking when told to by someone else.

Indeed, when he thought about it, that was what this wedding was all about. Even though she was only fourteen years old, in contrast to her true wishes, she has to become the wife of a man she only first met yesterday, and was of a former enemy country to boot. Although he couldn’t get himself to feel sympathy for someone like her, who was born in a royal family, she seemed to have various hardships of her own as well.

''So, it’s the same for everyone.''

He suddenly remembered that voice.

''– Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. Everybody longs for a world they don’t know, and pursue a meaning in life for which they’ve been born – even if he’s a priest, or royalty.''

''It was just like Roan said'', Orba groaned deep inside.

“You really ''are'' lost in thought.”

When she once again spoke to him out of the blue, Orba impolitely replied with the words,

“So what?”

Vileena chuckled.

“For quite a while, I thought you had frightening eyes at times, but now you seem to smile, thinking of something pleasant. Please tell me, you who are about to become my husband – what is it that troubles you on such a fine day, and what on earth is this matter you can’t help but remember?”

The ceremony went on. They had grilled a dragon they just killed this morning, and while they scattered the bones across the base of the valley, the priests chanted their prayers. They called for the souls of the dragons that once ruled this planet to protect the country’s prosperity.

“Could it be that the Ryuujin, if they come back, may not necessarily give this place their blessings?”

Back when humankind landed on this planet, the dragons only roamed the fields and thought of nothing but filling their stomachs, in short, they had degenerated to being on the same level as beasts.

However, they excavated the ruins of enormous cities and artefacts of unknown purpose here and there on the planet, and there also seemed to be traces of a magical civilization that possibly used some form of ''ether''<ref>It's called 'ether', but the author uses the characters for 'Elementary' and 'Magic'</ref>. Humankind was able to wield their first ‘magic’, Zodias, after a while, and this blessing of wisdom was said to have all been obtained from these dragons’ ruins. It was believed that the ancient dragons formed the intelligent body that once governed this planet, probably thousands of years before humankind ultimately arrived.

The custom to call those dragons of old ‘Dragon Gods’ or ‘Ryuujin’ was particularly Mephian, and there was a time it was the religious faith in all of the country. Although it’s now a mere shadow of its former self, for important rituals like these, the priest who presided over the ceremony was selected and summoned from one of the tribes of nomads living in the area near the Mephian border, where the roots of the Ryuujin Faith lay.

“Like I said, it’s nothing.”

Again, Orba briefly ended the conversation.

He had received a brief explanation from the page, Dinn, concerning the history of the Ryuujin Faith, but naturally he didn’t feel too strongly about it. So, he wasn’t able to tell whether Vileena had been joking or not.

''If the real prince’s and this girl’s relations grows awkward after this, I won’t be taking responsibility for it, Fedom-sama.''

On the other hand, Vileena finally gave a sigh, getting lost in her own thoughts. For Garbera, the dragons having a civilization equal to or greater than that of the humans in the past was viewed upon as nothing more than a ‘dragon god’ legend. Therefore she could not experience this ceremony as something sacred. And although she had gotten carelessly and completely bored, when she glanced at the person next to her, Prince Gil – the one who would become her husband when this ceremony was finally over – she couldn’t help but be distracted. So, to slightly stave off her boredom, she tried to tease him a little. But, possibly revealing his ‘true character’, although she tried her best to look like a lady, the prince was genuinely blunt. Not only that, his brief way of talking really got on her nerves.

She wondered if it was because he was embarrassed. During last night’s party, she hadn’t caught wind of his behaviour being resentful against women either. But when she thought he might be a bit like Ryucown, Vileena felt offended by herself. There was no way the bravest general of Garbera resembled someone who was rumoured to be a complete ‘retard’ here in Mephius.

''In any case, this is the same thing as war. To fool the enemy, I have to keep up the pace in this place.''

Vileena maintained her smile, pretending not to be offended. She hoped the prince would fall madly in love with her. However, if he had some sort of love affair with a distant girl, well, she didn’t know whether or not it would be the result. Anyway, it wouldn’t be a problem if she kept smiling.

''Grandfather also told me that he loved my smiling face above all. So in that case, I shouldn’t be mistaken.''

The priests’ tedious prayers would be over soon, and then the sword-slave battles would finally take place.

It was said to be part of the ceremony that, when the dragon bones have turned to ash and are poured over the ground, the lifeblood of men is given. Nevertheless, what they did was hardly any different from your everyday gladiator battles. The only difference was that the introductory remarks were slightly more formal than usual. The arena, a levelled ground at the bottom of the valley with only some pillars staked into the earth, was even simpler than the usual.

There, the gladiators were standing in rows to the east and west sides. Orba recognized Tarkas, Gowen, and a lot of other faces he knew, and an unusually boyish smile appeared on his face.

''I doubt those guys would even imagine I’m right here.''

Although Tarkas was probably be furious about him having left so suddenly, exactly because it happened so soon, it wouldn’t occur to him that he’d be looking down from such a high position.

Vileena, on the other hand, despite having been informed of this earlier, was looking on with gloomy thoughts about slaves having to kill each other hereafter. There was no slavery in Garbera, which was the main reason they spoke ill of Mephius as a country of barbarians.

''Unsatisfied with the war, have they willfully made a show of looking down slaves and forcing them to kill each other?''

When the divination was over, the first group of people stepped forward. Although the movements of the gladiators were somewhat awkward, perhaps it was because of the more subdued environment up until the end of the first round, namely, until the loser was turned into a sprawled corpse on the ground.

In Garbera and Ende, with restrictions on slave companies expressly going for the entertainment industry, there wasn’t an opportunity to see a gladiator fight. So, although the envoys had been prejudiced at first, and although it looked like they might have been enraged as the sound of clashing swords ran about, before long, they ended up bending over the stands, clenching their fists tight, giving cheers along with the people of Mephius, and started giving their applause.

Vileena soon got sick of it. Then, thinking of His Lordship, she again peeked to her side. When she saw a huge, grinning smile on his face, Vileena again felt a renewed disappointment appear. No matter how she looked at it, he clearly enjoyed seeing them kill each other from the bottom of his heart. She had assumed that he would like it, but not to this extent.

Suddenly, she was no longer able to restrain her feelings. The once disdainful feelings for her partner had turned into emotional disgust. It all happened so sudden, and she herself was actually quite perplexed. She was again reminded of how she, until just now, had to constantly try to subdue her emotions. Even though she was the princess of a country who had said she would give priority to her own nation before herself, she was only fourteen years old.

''I can’t, I can’t!''

Vileena strongly clutched her fists in her lap.

''This, too, is a battle. This, too, is a trail, Vileena. My body was given a push in the back and sent forward. I can’t let my spirit lose its strength like this.''

Shique stepped forward at the arena. The cheers concentrated on this unique gladiator, with a decadent white-painted face. Looking at his opponent, however… Orba raised his eyebrows.

''He’s…''

For some reason, it was one of the newcomers Tarkas had hired in his good mood. Taking Shique’s skills into consideration, it was obvious this opponent wasn’t suitably matched. Even if he was able to liven up the battle, Tarkas had struck a bad deal. This would be over in an instant.

Shique readied his trademark dual swords. Both were single-bladed swords of middle length. The newcomer nervously stood ready on the other side. This would be over within the blink of an eye – or so Orba thought at the time.

But while he thought this, he heard a loud rumbling through the ground, which practically shook violently under his feet. During that staggering time, a dense cloud of dust swelled up on the other side of the arena.

Those soldiers who looked up at the dust, towards whatever it was, were the first to fall victim. Although they’d gathered around the arena carrying spears and guns, they also hadn’t expected such a sudden occurrence, and were crushed to death underneath a dragon’s forelegs. As soon as the clots of blood painted the ground bright red, a scaled dragon, tinged with slime here and there, emerged from the cloud of dust. The huge-shaped mass was basically stepping forward.

It was a large-type dragon, Sozos. Chains were supposed to be tie to its feet and naturally it should have also be locked up in a cage, but the dragon had become a freed creature, and even more of them appeared all at once.

“Wh-Whaahh!!”

One soldier, stunned by the death of his colleagues, fired his readied gun. The moment he removed his aim, a sharp claw about three times his height swung down on his body and he immediately splattered into a heap of flesh on the ground. Then the other soldiers who were near him, shrieked like women, dropped their guns, and started running away. Their screams and shouts began to sound much like the rumbling in the ground.

“W-What, what’s going on?”

“Why are the dragons on a rampage?”

A large number of people started bellowing at each other underneath their tents. The dragons that were to be used by the gladiators had broken through their cages and were rampaging about. There were some people who picked up swords and guns and headed for the guards, some who ran as fast as they could, and some who spread instructions to their subordinates – mixed in with a lot of other people.

Orba stood up from his chair. For a moment he couldn’t see Shique’s figure from under the cover of the dust cloud. Then one of the gladiators, the one who was the next to go, got kicked hard by a Baian. And another, someone from the Tarkas Group who tried to recklessly lunge at their bellies, got trampled under a Sozos.

Then, he spotted a single, small silhouette among those dragons. It was Hou Ran. She was probably running around in tears trying to stop the dragons. There were several times when she barely escaped being kicked around by the dragons’ legs.

''Lend me a gun.''

Orba came close to shouting those words and taking a rifle from one of the guards. However, he was interrupted halfway as he suddenly he felt a sharp pain at a certain spot on his forehead.

“Ah!”

Guided by impulse and not by reason, Orba quickly concealed his body under the table. Something was flying overhead, high in the sky, at a great speed. Someone with the intent to kill. As it took form, he had a feeling that it was aiming for the ground.

''A sniper!''

Blended in with the sound of the dragon’s feet, the raised screams of the people, and the angry voices, was most definitely the sound of a rifle’s gunshot that rattled his eardrums.

=== Part 2 ===

===References and Translation Notes===
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| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1_Chapter5|Chapter 5]]
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