Editing Tytania:Volume 1 Chapter 1 (section)

=== III ===
On the beltway<ref>“Race track” (走路) is here pronounced “beltway”.</ref> leading to the spaceport, two Tytanians, Ariabert and Jouslain, were walking side by side. Ariabert kept opening and closing his mouth, while Jouslain listened in silence to his cousin’s voice. Ariabert was clearly displeased with the role that had been thrust upon him at the Battle of Cerberus Sector. Finally, maybe irritated by Jouslain’s quasi-unresponsive attitude, he slightly rose his voice.

“Well, Lord Jouslain, are you saying you would have been able to claim victory in such a ludicrous battle?”

“Did it appear like I was making such a claim?”

As Jouslain answered for the first time, he appeared somewhat lost, as if his consciousness were drifting on the edge, but it seemed like his own voice was bringing him back to reality.

“You didn’t. But I was wondering whether you, Lord Jouslain, might have been able to do what I was unable to.”

“Lord Ariabert, it is from your defeat you should learn. There is nothing to learn from me. The thoughtless words that I said before the council began were due to my own rashness. I would be thankful if you forgave them.”

“Hum…” With an expression showing some dissatisfaction, Ariabert nevertheless nodded. “Well then, let us convene at the Celestial City. Until then, I shall take my leave.”

Nonchalantly raising one hand, Jouslain turned on his heel, and Ariabert followed suit, walking towards the direction where his own spacecraft awaited.

From the window of the VIP lounge in the Tytanian space station Trill IV, overlord Ajman gazed at the four spacecraft that were ascending one after the other into the dark void. An elderly steward carrying coffee respectfully addressed him from behind.

“Lord Ariabert appeared somewhat displeased, did he not?”

“Displeased indeed. But holding grudges would not be of any service to Ariabert himself.”

The will of the Landless Clanner, the commander-in-chief, was the very essence of justice in Tytania. One had to obey the overlord’s commands, even if it went against one’s wishes and bred discontent. From the moment they were born, those of Tytanian blood and who bore the name Tytania had a single set of values hammered into their very bones. The head of the clan, as overlord, was deeply revered and sacred. The interests of Tytania were supreme and took precedence over all existence in the cosmos. Ajman himself was taught that since he was old enough to understand. One wasn’t forbidden from harbouring dissatisfaction and grievances. But expressing them was a grave sin.

“Oblon, what do you make of the Four Dukes? You may speak freely. Who do you think possesses the mettle to lead the clan as the overlord?”

“In my humble view, Lord Jouslain would appear to possess the stature befitting of a commander-in-chief.”

“I also think so. Though, surprisingly, it might be that he is merely well gifted in the art of appearing so.”

“You are most prudent.”

“One might call it excessive suspicion.”

Ajman faintly smiled as he uttered words that seemed like self-criticism. Only the overlord could disparage the overlord. The steward merely bowed respectfully, avoiding either agreeing or disagreeing. Overlord Ajman paid no mind to his steward’s ambiguous reaction and pursued his train of thought.

None of the four were incompetent. Though they lacked experience due to their age, they had both talent, courage, and were capable of commanding subordinates. Once they accumulated experience, good advisers, and secured the unity of their clans, they could leave a legacy of governance that would not pale next to that of the past overlords.

And yet, none had the stature to serve as Tytania’s commander-in-chief. Jouslain appeared to be the most capable, but Ajman sensed something oddly inscrutable about him. It was neither a tyrannical streak, nor folly, nor some abnormality. Was Jouslain’s wisdom perhaps turning critical towards Tytania’s past and current state? That thought had no reason or evidence. If anything, it was inseparable from Ajman’s high regard for Jouslain. A capable man couldn’t lack critical awareness of the ''status quo''. Ajman himself had been like that in his twenties.

Barring extraordinary circumstances, Ajman would likely maintain his position as Landless Clanner for another thirty or forty years. By then, both Jouslain and Ariabert would be in their twilight years. Ajman’s eldest son, Theophilus Tytania, was currently six years old and, in forty years, would be in his prime. Ajman’s seat would then be taken by his son Theophilus. However, should Theophilus’ ability and talent prove inferior to others within his family, it wouldn’t benefit Tytania to push his son as his successor. Ajman fully understood this. It was his duty as Tytania’s leader.

The lighting of the interior was dim, and beyond the transparent walls the stars twinkled with a pale blue. The spacecraft was heading towards the capital of the Vardana Empire, planet Ryutehi. A two-day voyage of eighty light-years. For Tytania, it was but a stroll in a back garden.

Jouslain Tytania sat cross-legged on the couch, his gaze fixated beyond the transparent wall, but he then shifted his glance towards a corner of his salon.

“Francia.”

“Yes, Lord Jouslain.”

“Tytania is powerful and proud.”

“Yes, it is as you say.”

“Hum. But what purpose does that power serve? What purpose does that pride serve? Sometimes I cannot help but wonder.”

Jouslain gazed at the starlit lake with a bitter smile. His eyes seemed very deep, seemingly concealing a wealth of almost frightening intelligence. As her master was addressing her, the young handmaid added ice to the freshly brewed sangria, her white cheeks slightly flushing beneath her dark hair. The ice clinked against the silver cup, sounding like a collision of pearls into their eardrums.

“But Clan Tytania contributed to making history.”

The 18-year-old young girl was also a member of the Tytania Clan.

“Tytania only contributes to Tytania.”

Jouslain’s answer was laconic and clear. For a moment, a bubble of silence floated around the room and burst near the ceiling.

“Not that you are wrong. Tytania did what only Tytania could do and shall continue to do so. But what purpose does it serve?”

Jouslain brushed back his brown hair.

If Tytania didn’t exist, history would simply be written without her. Humanity would not suffer from Tytania’s absence. Should enough of mankind realise this truth, Tytania’s might and glory would surely meet the same fate as a sandcastle built on the shore. He was a man ill-suited for Tytania. That he was born to one of the Five Families of Tytania could only be attributed to malice or a mistake from the Creator. Though he believed that, Jouslain knew that he could not escape from that malice.

Although they were rulers of the cosmos and wielded absolute power, Tytania was a heresy. And among them, Jouslain was an ever greater heretic. As a sagacious heretic, he had been aware of that fact since boyhood and had carefully concealed his true nature. For it was obvious that the abnormally proud Tytanian bloodline would not suffer those who doubted their very ''raison d’être''.

Since the age of 16, Jouslain had assisted his father, a capable though frail military and administrative man, in commanding his fleet. His uncommon cool composure and broad perspective for someone of his young age had earned him praise from his father as well as the previous overlord. Though it was no choice of his own, the fact that he ended up in a position where he had to compete with Ariabert, Zarlisch, and Idris, his contemporaries, was an inescapable circumstance.

He vividly remembered the day when a younger Ajman who wasn’t yet the overlord patted him on the shoulder and told him with a smile: “Once I become the overlord, I want you to be my advisor”. Tytania. A fleet of 100,000 vessels. 300,000 carracks<ref>“Armed merchant vessel” (武装商船) is here pronounced “carrack”. Carracks were relatively large European trade ships that were used around the same time as caravels.</ref>. Humanity’s largest power. Maintaining it required both cunning politics to prevent the unification of the anti-Tytania factions as well as relative military superiority achieved through a divide-and-conquer policy.

“Do you believe me to possess precognition abilities, Francia?”

Taken aback by the sudden question, the girl’s eyes slightly widened. Offering her master a silver cup of cold sangria, she replied in a low voice:

“If you say it is so, Lord Jouslain, then I shall believe it.”

Taking the silver cup, Jouslain murmured:

“In that case, remember this. One day, Tytania shall inevitably have to rely on me, Jouslain. However, that shall be when Tytania is faced with the direst of circumstances. Therefore, it would be better for Tytania if it were never my turn to shine.”

The coolness of the cup against his lips felt pleasant.

The history of Tytania was coloured with blood and gold. If one scratched beneath the surface, hues of conspiracy and treachery would appear. A boundless darkness. Jouslain never forgot the abyss that was opened beneath their very feet. He took no pride in his own perception. Compared to Ariabert, Zarlisch, and Idris, he believed his own mental stance to be regressive. It would be for the best if one of these three became Tytania’s commander-in-chief.

Yet, as he was entertaining this thought, a strangely compelling conviction took root in Jouslain’s heart. Someone is bound to realise. Once, the existence of Tytania didn’t exist in the universe. Once someone realises that truth, inevitably the concept of a “universe without Tytania” would be conceived.