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Rakuin no Monshou:Volume6 Chapter2

2017-06-03T16:47:09Z

183.83.92.110: /* Part 3 */

==Chapter 2: Tauran Advances==

=== Part 1 ===

The forest was by no means large and it was filled to overflowing during the rush to withdraw. Some were dragged down by the wave of people and were crushed underfoot by their allies’ horses. Every time a sword was swung, someone’s head flew, but even so, Moldorf ascertained a path of retreat and raced on with his spear in hand, weaving his way through the rain of swords to break through to the forest.

There, Moldorf joined up with the troops who had been sent to detour around the forest and briefly halted his horse in order to personally take up the rear guard. While covering his allies, they gradually retreated. Valiant warriors from all of the allied countries lined up on either side of him. Even now that he had decided they would flee, his spear was not one particle less relentless, and as they chased after their routed enemy, the men from Lasvius' unit were slaughtered one after another.

"Don't chase them too far!" Lasvius himself finally shouted out to restrain his allies. To reiterate, they too were not really in a position that allowed much coordination. It would only serve to increase the number of victims if each attacked haphazardly in order to earn achievements. Better after all to fire bullets or arrows from a distance.

It was quite effective, although Moldorf himself didn't have a single scratch. Before long, the entirety of Garda's army was headed northeast in a cloud of dust. For now, they intended to pass by the eastern side of Lake Soma to escape to Eimen or else to Kadyne.

The remaining Taúlian soldiers both inside and out of the forest raised a cry of triumph and saw in their comrades' faces the pride of knowing that Garda had been thwarted for the first time since the beginning of his invasion. They had won against Garda's forces.

Ax Bazgan heard their cry of victory as he was rubbing his lower back. His blood had of course run cold when he had seen Moldorf's spear approach, but now he struck a grand pose and accepted the soldiers' joyful voices.

Cherik's army withdrew in almost no time at all.

"Don't chase after them," Ax issued a strict command. "I will pass through Cherik's gates personally and in grand style. Even Yamka will have to accept it."

The news wasn't all good. The worst of the damage that the Taúlian forces had suffered had been inflicted when Moldorf had charged alone, but what caused Ax's expression to cloud over was that the strategist Ravan Dol had been caught up in it. Apparently, when the strategist was flung from the dragon’s back, he had slammed into the ground with his entire body and had lost consciousness. He was breathing, but his age was what it was. It was impossible to say what his condition was.

Because theirs had been a march that privileged speed, there were few non-combatants in the first wave of troops that Ax was leading. The artillery and infantry troops following behind should have doctors with them, so until they arrived, a tent was set up for the strategist to rest in.

Lasvius went towards Ax. That Taúlia had made a move was largely because of the letter from Bouwen Tedos who had been under Lasvius’ protection.

“As expected of one who has inherited the blood of the Bazgan family. Taúlia’s cooperation was essential for gaining the first military achievements against Garda.”

“What? The western lands were those ruled by the Bazgan family. We wouldn’t not move to protect them.”

His manner of speaking got on Lasvius’ nerves somewhat and an unpleasant expression crossed his slender face, but no word of criticism passed his lips. Ax didn’t particularly notice.

“It was because the loyal retainers of Helio did not give up on retaking it that we achieved success. You have my thanks.”

So saying, he offered a handshake.

''What a strange man'', that thought was written on Lasvius’ face as he returned the handshake. He had an arrogant side and an affable side that coexisted without contradicting each other. ''Ah, or isn’t it...'', he almost smiled as a thought struck him. In short, Ax Bazgan was like a child. He was exactly like the swaggering leader of a neighbourhood gang of kids.

Afterwards, Lasvius issued orders to his subordinates and had them bring Orba over. Shique was with him and Ax recognised his face as that of the messenger who had arrived in Taúlia just a few days ago. Furthermore, that messenger had originally been a mercenary hired by Taúlia and he had heard that before that, he had been a gladiator in Mephius, so Ax’s expression showed somewhat mixed feelings.

However, that did not change the fact that when Bouwen had fled the battle at the Coldrin Hills, they had protected him to the last without abandoning him. Lasvius had wanted to introduce Orba to Taúlia’s governor-general but time was short.

“We’ll hold a party later. I’ll be giving you a reward but if you’re expecting something big, it might be a problem in these troubled times,” Ax smiled jocularly.

After that, while waiting for the troops following behind, they rested in the area around the forest. Naturally Ax had the soldiers take up battle formations in turn and scout their surroundings at all times. Incidentally, he had sent a messenger post haste to those behind to inform them of the situation and to order a third of them to return to Taúlia. It was not that he was taking Cherik lightly, but it was in case Garda’s temporarily routed army changed its objective and headed there instead.

Meanwhile, Orba was with Shique and Gilliam, who he knew of old, and with the mercenaries Talcott and Stan, when they heard a voice say,

“Mephian dogs.”

The one who was insulting them so as to be deliberately overheard was a man who was giving instructions to the sentries posted a little way from where they were. Judging from his equipment, he was a soldier from Helio. Moreover, he seemed to be of the rank of battalion commander as he had a tassel attached to the top of his pointed, Taúlian-made helmet and a short mantle hanging from his right shoulder.

“I don’t know if it was on Lasvius’ orders, but they’re getting full of themselves for having commanded the detached force. A man who’s more like a boy and who can’t show his face. Since when has Helio been so short-handed that we need to rely on slaves?”

“Yo, Shique,” said the gigantic Gilliam while poking a finger in his ear. “I can’t make out this western accent. Are they picking a fight with us?”

“Leave it, maybe it’s a mistake,” Shique appeared to chide him in a gentle voice that matched his feminine appearance, but his words as he spoke loud enough to let them hear were far from gentle. “See, if you take out a sword and thrust it at them, they will surely apologise and snivel that ‘It’s a mistake, there’s been a misunderstanding so please forgive us.’ When that happens, we’ll be the ones left feeling awkward.”

That was rare for Shique. As for Orba, he turned his face in Cherik’s direction without saying a word. As was his habit when he was lost in thought, he fixed his eyes on a single point without moving, without even so much as blinking.

“That man, I know him by name,” Talcott said afterwards in a low voice. “Surūr Wyerim, the commander of Helio’s infantry battalion. He seems to be in a bad mood but don’t provoke him too much. Apparently he’s more capable than he looks.” As he was saying that, the look in his eyes seemed somewhat amused by the situation.

Regardless, no further incident occurred and the troops following behind joined up with the main force. A messenger came galloping up just as Ax was about to start moving. When he heard his report, he snorted loudly.
“So it’s finally come? I was starting to wonder if I would seriously have to march in there.”

An envoy from Cherik had arrived.

Elsewhere, in far distant Taúlia.

“What?” Raswan Bazgan’s cruel-looking face wore an expression of astonishment. “Is this true?”

“Yes…” As he answered, the old sorcerer raised both his palms to the level of his chest and placed them over a strangely shaped crystal ball. It was in the form a skull that had horns and a somewhat elongated snout. While peering into it, he continued, “It appears that soon after our troops left Helio, the soldiers of Helio’s royal family recaptured the city. From there, it seems that reinforcements rushed to Taúlia’s aid and they probably caught Moldorf’s force in a pincer movement. Although I have not seen the outcome, so it is possible that Moldorf managed to prevail against the odds.”

“Why?”

“It seems that a man named Lasvius hid in the Belgana Summits along with his subordinates…”

“Not that!” Raswan barked with a thoroughly irritated expression. “''Why'' didn’t you convey news of Helio’s fall to Moldorf’s troops? Aren’t you capable of instant communication no matter how far apart you may be? If he had had known that reinforcements were coming from behind, Moldorf could have acted.”

“None of our comrades accompanied Moldorf's force. We too are limited in number,” the sorcerer's answer was concise. It held no impatience nor regret nor apology.

Raswan’s lips trembled, but,

“Do not be hasty,” the old man’s voice was cold.

Although Raswan's brain was boiling with anger, he froze instantly. However, he was a man who had steeled himself and who was prepared to turn his blade against his own father. He drew his brows together and scowled deeply at the other.

“If we lose the opportunity to act it will all come to nothing. But with whatever sorcery you lot possess, doing something like changing history is so easy that…”

“Indeed. There is nothing more important than a good opportunity,” the sorcerer interrupted Raswan’s words, “and when it comes to opportunities, there will be as many as one likes later. But it will be over if we fail. My master Garda has great expectations of your assistance, Lord Raswan, so please do not lose your temper and destroy the chance that more opportunities will come your way.”

“S-So you are saying that there is no worry that the countries of the west will join hands and engulf Garda then.”
Raswan was anxious that he not be taken lightly. Garda had said that he would leave Taúlia in his hands but he was not so naive as to leave it at that. In preparation for when he became governor-general, he had to keep in mind how to place himself on equal terms with Garda, who would have subdued most of the western lands.

''Nnh'', as Raswan’s violent expression shattered, the blood drained from his dark brown skin.

The sorcerer didn’t say a thing. He only laughed. A soundless laugh.

A moment later, he repeated his words, “Do not be hasty.”

In the end, Raswan Bazgan had no choice but to postpone making his move in Taúlia. As he looked out the window at the streets of Taúlia that were entirely bathed in the light of dawn, Raswan persuaded himself that it was a sign that his luck still held that his notification had not yet reached the soldiers and that they were still unaware of the situation.

=== Part 2 ===

“Garda tricked us,” at the meeting set up within Cherik’s castle, King Yamka the Second made his appeal in tears.
Invited there were Ax and several commanders. Representing Helio were Lasvius and his second-in-command from the Dragoon Corps.

“You were tricked. And you think that explains everything?” If Ravan Dol had been at the meeting, he would have rebuked his master at that point, but unfortunately the elderly strategist was still unconscious. Ax’s stern face was flushed scarlet. “The fact that Cherik joined hands with Garda is a fact proven beyond doubt. Let’s hear your reasons, what kind of sweet promises tempted you and what the hell were you thinking mobilising your soldiers and turning your bayonets against my Taúlia?”

“W-We didn’t think that we would be setting ourselves up against Taúlia. That was, those soldiers at the border were only there to protect the country after we heard that Helio had fallen and…”

“In that case, you sure moved quickly. Your soldiers left Cherik with amazing speed and took up formation by the border before the battle at the Coldrin Hills had even ended.”

Ax jabbed at him with his words. His head down, Yamka passed his hands through his thinning hair over and over again, then, wiping his sweat away,

“Garda’s forces sent me a threatening letter. Attack Helio from behind or you will be the next target. Naturally I didn’t give in to that threat. We mobilised our soldiers to show Garda Cherik’s military might. But that was what they were aiming for. So that they could pretend that Cherik and Garda truly had joined hands and have you, Lord Ax, misunderstand, thus blocking Taúlia’s movements.”

“Oh ho,” Ax scrutinized Yamka the Second’s face which had been pallid when they had entered the room but which had become red as he spoke. The words he had marshalled together seemed reasonable enough but,

''If that was Garda’s plan, it was really crude. He couldn’t have predicted how Cherik would react after he’d simply threatened them''. Ax was aware that without Ravan there, his own personality might play to his disadvantage. ''Dammit. Should I leave it at that? No, if I press on here I should be able to draw out some information about Garda''.

He was truly poor at detailed negotiations like these. When Ax fell silent, the room, naturally, could only also be wrapped in silence. Sunlight flooded through the window. Because it was so extremely bright, each and every speck of the dust that enveloped the room was plainly noticeable and Lasvius, who was by nature fastidious about cleanliness, had been making a sour face for some time.

Yamka II desperately scrutinized the two men’s expressions.

Incidentally, the Taúlian soldiers had currently set up camp in the outskirts of Cherik. It couldn’t really be said that they created an oppressive atmosphere. This was an example of Ax’s magnanimous personality. Having sounded Yamka out, he had allowed Cherik to hold a small banquet in welcome to Taúlia’s soldiers. Several people serving in high office in Cherik were also taking part.

Ax guessed that the people of Cherik and the common soldiers probably hadn’t been aware of their country’s connection to Garda. Although power rivalries were constant in the western lands, Cherik, just like Taúlia, was a country that had been born when Zer Tauran split apart. The countries that had handed down Zer Tauran’s customs and traditions still shared a unique bond so that even if they had been at war until just the day before, they would immediately stand shoulder to shoulder against a foreign enemy. As such, Cherik would not easily have accepted the presence of Garda, he who had thrown the West into disarray.

Therefore, just as Yamka had said, was it not likely that the soldiers truly have been given instructions to “Strike at Garda’s army as it comes from Helio”?

From here on, Cherik would become an important base against Garda. Because of that, Ax didn’t want to harm its people or make them feel any warier than necessary. Which also meant that he couldn’t cut the king, Yamka II, too deeply either.

''Tsk'', Ax gave another small click of his tongue and changed the subject by asking Lasvius about the situation in Helio.

Lasvius gave a matter-of-fact account of the succession of misfortunes that had befallen Helio, from the defeat at Eimen and King Elargon’s death in battle to the civil war that had arisen within the country.

“Were those who rose in rebellion tricked by Garda?”

“At this point in time there’s no way to verify that, but perhaps it’s possible.”

Lasvius then talked about how the mercenary commander called Greygun who had been invited to Helio had been connected to Garda and bout how he had betrayed his allies at the battle at the Coldrin Hills.

“Greygun, huh?”

As Ax gave him a brief look, the king of Cherik coughed violently and turned the other way.

Greygun, the commander of the Red Hawks mercenary group, had originally been a man employed by Cherik. Trouble had arisen between him and Yamka, and he had been expelled from the country. The whole sequence of events of how he and his seven hundred soldiers had then been hired by Helio was unnatural. Considering the connection between Yamka and Garda, it was more plausible to suppose that rather than them falling out, Yamka had sent Greygun to destroy Helio from inside.

Even though Lasvius’ feelings towards Yamka were anything but kind, not a hint of those emotions coloured the commander of Helio’s dragoons’ sharp features. He too probably realised the importance of Cherik’s role in the future. He kept an iron self-control over himself.

''There’s no helping it, we’ll have to put off dealing with Cherik until later'', Ax decided, feeling unamused. Everything would have to wait until after they had gotten rid of Garda’s army. It wasn’t too bad if he thought that after this, he would hold the means to gain the upper hand in negotiations with Cherik. Perhaps he would be able to seize some of the management rights to the rich granary region around Lake Soma.

“Garda's army that we fought today. They were the units stationed at Helio. What was their actual condition?”

“Bluntly, they were a mish-mashed troop. Just like in Helio, they all seemed to obey Garda because their people have been taken hostage.”

“A strange tale. With that way of doing things, even if they were to annihilate all enemy powers, they wouldn't be able to govern. What is Garda thinking?”

“Well who knows. But...”

“But?”

“Isn't that precisely Garda's weak point?”

As he quietly made that assertion, Lasvius’ expression, which had until then been as cold as ice, thawed as though from the intensity of his emotions and changed into something that was yet neither anger nor joy.

“For the people, even if their home country is overthrown, even if the ruler changes, as long as their living conditions improve afterwards, they will adapt to the new system and the new country name. But since there is no government, the people’s hearts remain constantly wrapped in anger. They yearn for their country’s name, they await the day when their true royal family will reclaim the throne, and if they can’t bear to wait, they raise their fists themselves. There’s no doubt that Kadyne, Eimen and the others in Garda’s power are just as we in Helio were. So if today’s military accomplishments of ours were to spread throughout the West, it could become our one great opportunity.”

“To topple Garda’s army?”

“Yes.”

Only Yamka II seemed uneasy at hearing the vigorous conversation between them and stayed apart from the two who had immediately started talking about defeating Garda. So the demon fell, he thought to himself as though it was someone else’s business.

What he had told Ax was of course complete nonsense. He had most certainly forged a connection with Garda. But now, he was not entirely sure about his motives for linking himself to the sorcerer.

One reason why Yamka had concealed the truth from Ax was of course because he had been thinking of Cherik’s future, but the true reason why he couldn’t openly admit to it was because,

''If I tell others, they’ll mock me for a fool''.

One night, more than half a year ago, Yamka II had seen a dancing girl in a dream. With her elegant dancing and her somewhat strong beauty, she fit Yamka’s tastes more than any woman he had ever seen before and so perfectly matched his ideal feminine image that he believed their meeting was surely ordained by the Dragon Gods.

After she had finished performing her dance, Yamka had sex with her within his dream.

“You my lord will one day be the one to rule the southern half of Tauran,” the dancing girl had whispered in his ear. He heard more such idle talk after their intimate liaison. But when he awoke from the dream and as he was savouring the vivid memory of it, the dancing girl’s whispered words reawakened Yamka II’s half-forgotten desire for supremacy.

''Could it be a prophetic dream sent by the Dragon Gods?'' Just as he was wondering that, a troupe with a certain dancing girl had visited Cherik.

“I received an invitation from his lordship,” she had announced when she appeared at the castle gate. Yamka had summoned her before him with uncontrollable curiosity and expectation. And sure enough, she and the dancing girl in his dream were like two peas in a pod.

The dancing girl gave her name as Tahī. What happened after that was like a continuation of the dream for Yamka and he only had a hazy memory of it. Tahī herself had vanished just before Yamka launched his military operation, leaving only the words, “I will visit again later,” behind her.

''Was she just an illusion?'' He wondered, now that the entire plan had collapsed as it had.

“But there’s no explaining it,” the discussion that Cherik’s king had stopped paying attention to continued. Ax groaned, his arms crossed. “Those guys advanced their army after us, who were headed to capture Cherik, and not towards Taúlia which was empty. It’s hard to imagine that they could have seen through Ravan’s plan so easily. You could always say that at about the same time as the troops left Taúlia, spies lurking in the city sent them that information, but even then…”

“The information travelled fast.”

“Too fast. What kind of method did they use?”

He gave another quick glance towards Yamka, silently asking if he didn’t have any information about Garda relating to that. Actually, Ax had been seized by the thought of asking him directly: ''Hey, how did you contact Garda'' but seeing that Yamka’s face had gone pale again and that he was shaking his head, he probably hadn’t been informed about it in any detail.

''You worthless excuse of a man. How could you trust a guy without knowing his real intentions, the arts he uses or his real nature?'', he wanted to yell. He swallowed back his emotions however.

“Those bastards don’t use flames and whirlwinds to destroy armies like in the legends, but it’s worth thinking that they might use some even more terrifying techniques,” he said.

Since each of their movements were in danger of being seen through, at the very least they could say that it wouldn’t be a war in which they could overwhelm their opponent with superior force of numbers.

''Given our victory in this fight, how will the other Tauran countries move?'' They would need time to ascertain that.

After that and once he had left Cherik castle, Ax, along with Lasvius, went to show his face at the banquet.

The soldiers from Cherik who were acting as their escorts stood to attention. For their part, they probably had the feeling that the misunderstanding with Taúlia had been resolved. But even if they were to hold official peace negotiations sometime soon, Ax, was not exactly happy. He had after all almost been driven into a truly desperate situation.

“This way,”

After chatting with the soldiers for a while, Lasvius led Ax to a different place. He had chosen several soldiers beforehand from those who had raced in reinforcement with him and had invited them to a bar in Cherik. He had a governmental official from Cherik prepare a carriage and headed there with Ax.

The sun was almost at its zenith, but the sky had gone grey, clouds had appeared and an unpleasant wind was blowing.

The carriage, with a dozen brawny soldiers following behind it, pulled up in front of a large bar on Cherik's main street.

There were very few places where women could work in Cherik so unlike other countries, there were no women waiting at the tables. As he walked into a rather squalid room where the paint was chipped, a crease appeared between Ax's brows.

Regardless, the soldiers that Lasvius had chosen were in a secluded part of the shop. They were the mercenaries that included Orba.

''Ax Bazgan''.

From behind his mask, Orba observed the man who approached towards them. As the mercenaries rose from their seats one by one, he lowered his eyes a little. There was no need to speak of it again now, but Orba had been the body double of the Mephian empire's crown prince and had himself commanded soldiers. Where the southwest of Mephius bordered Taúlia, the countries had crossed swords and he had met Ax Bazgan face to face at that time.
Because of that, now that he had taken off the 'mask' of Gil Mephius, he didn’t really want to talk too closely with him. And so, he had intended to remain silent there, but –

“I didn't have much time earlier, but I forgot to give my thanks for saving Bouwen, huh? You rendered great efforts for Taúlia’s sake. And you played a key part in our victory this time too.”

“We didn't do anything.”

Opening his mouth, Orba was vexed at his own timing. Any way you looked at his attitude, he was being arrogant for a mercenary.

Having drawn everyone's attention to himself and while ignoring Gilliam, whose face was scowling ''Again'', Orba spoke.

“The ones who saved General Bouwen, as well as ourselves, were Captain Duncan and Taúlia’s soldiers.”

“This fellow's attitude is sometimes somewhat misguided. Please try to forgive him,” Lasvius smothered a smile.

“What? You were originally a mercenary hired by Taúlia. You don't need to stand on ceremony,” Ax looked at the masked man with displeasure stamped across his features but then he gave a single nod. “Is that right? Duncan, huh.”

Naturally, Ax had also been informed of the death of Duncan, who had been attached to the Fifth Army Corps as commander of the mercenaries.

“He was a good man. Eventually I was planning to have him command regular soldiers rather than mercenaries.”

“He was a splendid warrior,” Shique lowered his head as he spoke. “Captain Duncan entrusted his last wish to the likes of we mercenaries, that we protect General Bouwen to the end.”

Ax closed his eyes for a moment for Duncan and those killed in the war.

“In these wretched times we live in, we can't even stop to mourn the dead. First of all, I need to think of someone to replace him. And also, we want every capable man we can get.”

While in the carriage on their way there, Ax had heard the details of Helio's recapture from Lasvius. Fixing his gaze on the masked swordsman once more, Taúlia’s governor-general said something that made every one of the mercenaries doubt their ears:

“You said your name was Orba, right? How about it, will you take over the platoon?”

Lasvius stifled a laugh again as even Orba blinked behind his mask.

“Me... No, I <ref> Orba switches from his usual “ore” and casual way of speaking to the far politer “watashi” and a more formal speech pattern. Lasvius and Shique on the other hand have been speaking politely and respectfully to Ax from the start.</ref>, you mean?”

“That's right. Fifty mercenaries. It's not much but we'll gather more. We should be able to prepare ten of the new model riffles. We'll also round up as many horses as possible.”

“Wh-Why me?”

“You can think of it as a reward for one thing, but that’s not all. You can’t lead mercenaries by enticing them with honour and prestige. Nor can you encourage them to all be reckless heroes only interested in increasing their wages. What you need above all else is someone who can act as a unifying force for them.”

Ax’s words were a lot like what Duncan used to say. It had been a way for Duncan to sell his own abilities as someone who could do that, but ever since back then, Ax had thought that it was something that made sense.

“Even if we quit being mercenaries now, we’ll be rolling in money from this time’s work. But if we earn feats leading a mercenary unit, we can double, no triple, those funds,” the one who was rejoicing the most was Talcott. Overhearing what was being said from where he was drinking a little apart from Ax, he whispered, “Taúlia’s general is generous. How about it, Stan, can you see a bright future ahead?”

“It’s no good for this, Brother. Unless I’m looking straight at a battlefield, I don’t get any premonitions.”

Orba on the other hand dropped his gaze to the table. When he had been the Mephian crown prince’s replacement, he had routinely given orders to large numbers of people and he had experience in leading soldiers. But that was already like something from long ago.

''Thinking about it, I was naïve''.

If someone were to hear him, they would probably laugh at him for indulging in such an insolent daydream. But those were Orba’s true feelings. He had been given soldiers, he had gotten drunk on the power to move them around and he had meddled with wars as he wanted. But –

''Brother''.

Even now, he was haunted by the feeling of how his heart had seemed to stop when, bathed in the light of the setting sun in Apta, he had gazed at an engraving on sword. Carved onto the blade which was thrust into the ground in place of a grave-marker was the name ‘Roan’.

Roan had been conscripted from the village as a soldier and had breathed his last on the battlefield. The officers in charge of the operation probably hadn’t even known his name.

To those who employed soldiers, the rank-and-file troops were known only by numbers. But each of them had a family. They had lived life until then. At some point, wearing the mask of Prince Gil, Orba had almost come to forget something so obvious.

He who should have hated those in power had almost become like them. When he achieved his personal revenge against Oubary Bilan, from the bottom of his heart, Orba grew disgusted at the self-contradiction/paradox he was caught in. And so, he abandoned his future as crown prince and his feet carried him here, west to Tauran.

Now, even if he were in a position to manage soldiers again, he wouldn’t turn into the same as then, would he? He wouldn’t be deliberately picking up the mask he was supposed to have thrown away and be awkwardly filled with contradictions, would he?

“How about it?” Ax asked once more. Orba lifted his gaze. There was another arrogant pause. Orba looked straight into Ax’s face.

He was a descendant of Yasch Bazgan, who had once founded Zer Tauran in these western lands. Looking up at him like this gave him a different impression of his features than when he had met him as the prince.

''Taúlia’s king. A king?''

The uncomfortable silence continued. Ax’s eyebrows twitched convulsively. Just as Shique was about to start saying something,

“I gladly accept,” Orba agreed to the proposal with those few words. Ax grinned and personally poured wine into Orba’s cup.

While taking it with a respectful attitude, he thought,

''I’ll defeat Garda and bring this battle to a close. Isn’t that what I’ve already decided?''

With his own eyes he had seen death coming for Duncan, the captain of the mercenaries, and he had witnessed Queen Marilène of Helio’s determination and her fate. There had been many “Roans” on the battlefield where he himself had fought. And also, there was the youth from Garda’s army who had been forced to fight because his family had been taken hostage.

Orba’s eyes, which were apt to hold a dark gleam, now shone with a secret and fierce new light.

=== Part 3 ===

The wind was changing in the west.

It was about half a month since the battle at the outskirts of Cherik. When they learned of how the combined forces of Taúlia and Helio had defeated Garda’s troops, the various countries of Tauran received almost as great a shock as they had when the sorcerer’s invasion began in earnest.

Taúlia and Helio had reaffirmed their alliance and the two countries had exchanged letters with Cherik confirming their friendly relations from there on. Each of the small countries scattered across the northern Abbas Great Plains – most of which had sprung up from nomadic tribes – also sent messengers to Helio confirming that they would ally themselves with them. Messengers on fleet horses came running even from Altak, the southernmost state of Tauran, which stood at the edge of the desert and the wilderness west of the Numelda Gorge, which bordered Cherik.

Throughout the west, countless armed soldiers could be seen coming and going along the highways that had been trade routes at the time of the former Zer Tauran.

Partly in order to sweep away the rumour that they had been tied to Garda, Cherik, in which many from the various states had gathered, actively reached out to them and unreservedly served the soldiers stationed there with the abundant food that they had in reserve thanks to the blessings of Lake Soma. It was said that three of Cherik’s huge granaries were emptied within that half month.

During that time, the enemy made no move.

Garda remained secluded in Zer Illias and neither were there any conspicuous movements from Kadyne or Eimen, although they would probably be the first targets once the allied western forces took action. Rumours flew that the leaders of Garda’s army were in disarray after suffering their first defeat in the outskirts of Cherik, but no one knew if that was true.

In that time of course the kings and military commanders of the west sent innumerable spies and scouts to the regions under Garda’s control, but as not a single one of them returned, they didn’t receive even a single report.

For his part, Orba, now the commander of a mercenary platoon, received his official military uniform once he returned to Taúlia. Bouwen Tedos, the commander of the Fifth Army Corps which Orba was attached to, was currently undergoing medical treatment. Besides which, the mercenary corps, starting with its captain, Duncan, as well as the platoon leaders ranked lower than vice-captain, had all been killed at the battle at the Coldrin Hills. Therefore, the name of ‘Fifth Army Corps’ barely made sense as it was hardly functioning as an army division at that point in time.

So instead, Orba had had to recruit men from the mercenary unit under Toún Bazgan, the general in charge of Taúlia’s defence, as well as to establish his position as a captain of mercenaries and to organise his subordinates.
They were fifty-three in total. A reasonably high number for a platoon. Amongst them, to say nothing of Shique, Gilliam, Talcott and Stan, there was also Kurun, the apprentice soldier from Lasvius’ unit.

“The commander kicked me out,” Kurun laughed, his features still retaining a trace of childishness. Needless to say, he wasn’t from Taúlia. That he had crossed the border to be hired as a mercenary there was perhaps proof that the west was changing. “He told me I should come and learn about actual combat under you for a while. Although it hasn’t been long, he really has a high opinion of you, huh.”

“What a flirt,” Shique said surreptitiously. His face was haughty and he had a somewhat a threatening atmosphere.

“There’s no way I’m calling you ‘captain’,” said Gilliam, an opinion that Talcott agreed with.

Despite all this, Orba’s subordinates received good wages. Because they had money, they went pub crawling every night. Once when Shique went with them, he noticed something strange.

“Those two are going drinking together a lot.”

“So what?” The sun was setting over the training ground and Orba handed over his horse to a page attached to the platoon. Having endured Orba’s rough and violent riding style until just now, the horse was looking haggard.
“Gilliam is quick-tempered as you know. Talcott is excitable. Normally, they don’t get on all that well and they often get rowdy even just drinking alone. Gilliam is quick to raise his fists to other people and Talcott makes fun of others and gets them mad.”

“So you’d think those two would start fighting from the start.”

“Exactly,” a smile spread across Shique’s entire face. “You could call it something like affinity in liquor. When they’re together, oddly enough they hold each other’s flaws in check. Gilliam laughs off Talcott’s sarcasm like a funny joke and in some ways Talcott is really good at lifting Gilliam up.”

Although he hadn’t been asked to, Shique described the two’s relationship to Orba.

Because the physically very strong Gilliam brushed off Talcott’s nonsense, other people also found it easy to take it as a joke even if Talcott was bad-mouthing them. Also, for Gilliam, each of Talcott’s jokes seemed to hit the mark. That being the case, instead of laying the place to waste, he pulled his surroundings into his enjoyment.

Because of that, Shique had cleverly gotten the mercenaries who were Orba’s new subordinates to take it in turns to go out with the two of them every night. Although compared to the regular soldiers the mercenaries came from a variety of origins, most of them were still Zerdians. There would have been plenty of them who held no kind feelings towards Mephius, their enemy since the time of Zer Tauran.

“When gossip-mongering Talcott gets drunk, he’ll also start to insult Mephius. And Gilliam sitting with them might also make for a good buffer. If they grumble among themselves that the captain is a masked brat and blow off steam together, it will be easier to bring them together as a group, don’t you think?”

“Is that so?”

Orba didn’t comment on whether it was a “good” or a “bad” idea. When Shique had finished talking, he turned to the page and saying “Another horse,” he had him get a new one ready for him.

Shique looked surprised. Orba had already spent the entire day training with a spear on horseback.

“How long are you going to do that for?”

“I won’t say ‘until I can compare to Moldorf’ but I should at least get more or less used to it.”

Riding his fresh horse, Orba galloped across the training ground. Shique followed him with his eyes for a while until Orba’s figure was far in the distance, then he suddenly burst into loud laughter. The nearby page was startled and stared at this mercenary whose face looked like a woman’s. He was laughing as though he had desperately been holding it in until now.

“D-Did you see his face while I was talking to him?” He asked while tapping him on the shoulder, although the page couldn’t possibly have seen the face of a man who was wearing a mask. Shique laughed until he was crying. “He was in a much worse mood than usual. Well, there’s no helping it if he wasn’t happy that he hadn’t thought of my idea himself. Since he’s always, always the one to come up with the plans, he was definitely thinking about how to smooth things out with his new subordinates. And here his dear and esteemed wife Shique had already sorted things out.”

It was less than a week after he had finished organising his unit that Orba, having returned to Taúlia with Ax, now left for Helio before Ax did.

The military might of the various countries was converging on Helio in much the same way as it was on Cherik. There, the streets were like an exhibition presenting the various types of Zerdians, with the figures of nomads with no settled dwelling being especially conspicuous. Incidentally, most of the nomads pitched their tents outside the city walls where they also hunted freely and performed their training.

Orba’s unit would see its first service there. Their duty would be to serve as guards along the road from the Coldrin Hills to Helio. It wasn’t only soldiers who were coming and going: lines of pack animals with goods piled high on their backs as well as crowds of people gathered, and many caravans were expected to arrive.

There were no attacks from the enemy.

It was a tedious duty since Helio’s army was also cautiously keeping a close watch, but meanwhile, whenever a caravan travelled through, Orba would talk with them and buy maps of the Tauran regions from them. They covered the entire western region, from maps focussed only on the areas surrounding Kadyne or Eimen to ones hand-drawn by the travellers that showed the byways and secret paths through the mountains and valleys.

“Have you taken up map collecting?” Talcott teased as he happened to peer at what Orba was holding in his hand. “Oh, the guy you bought from earlier really did an outstanding job. That’s the old place name being used there, look, and the landscape features are drawn wrong. I’m pretty sure I could do better job at drawing that.”

Just as he said, Talcott had some artistic talent. Whenever he went to a bar in town, he would come on to women who caught his fancy by drawing their portrait.

Speaking of Helio, there was an eatery there which Orba, Talcott and the others all visited together on the day they first crossed over the border from Taúlia. It was a small place managed by just two people, a young woman named Kay and her younger brother Niels. It was there that Orba and the others had gotten into trouble with some of Greygun’s men, mercenaries from the Red Hawks.

It should have ended as just an ordinary brawl, but of all things Helio had fallen under the rule of Greygun and his Red Hawks. Because of that, Shique had been openly worried about what might have happened to the eatery. Soldiers acting as though the town were theirs might have attacked the shop and kidnapped Kay.

And so they had stopped by there for the first time in a long while, but the door was locked and when they peered through the window, the inside looked deserted. Just as they were all starting to feel uneasy, a voice called out to them from behind.

“Ah, it’s you!”

The woman wearing a red headscarf was none other than Kay. She was holding a bag of food in her hand.

Answering their questions, she explained that as soon as they had heard that Greygun had rebelled and seized the throne, the siblings, naturally fearing for their own safety, had gone to take shelter at the house of one of their regular customers who ran a general store. That store handled everything from ordinary groceries to swords and armour which had been repaired after being abandoned on the battlefield, and it was comparatively prosperous. Kay said that with his help, they were planning to reopen the eatery soon. Incidentally, the “he” in question was standing next to Kay and holding bags like her.

“Oh-ho, that’s good,” Talcott crinkled his nose as it was obvious even to an outsider that Kay and the man didn’t have just an ordinary relationship.

At any rate, that evening they toasted the eatery’s planned reopening. They toasted Helio’s recapture and toasted Orba’s inauguration as platoon leader. The drinks flowed merrily the entire time, but Talcott didn’t get drunk as he usually did and by the end, he was crying into Gilliam’s broad chest.

“I’m amazed,” whispered Shique. “Maybe he was actually serious about Kay.”

Holding his wine cup, Stan shook his head.

“Brother is always serious.”

Talcott and Stan had known each other for a long time. He was probably used to such scenes.

And so, the night turned into the next day.

An unexpected visitor showed up at the Helian garrison where Orba and the others were stationed. Or rather than a visitor, it was an applicant wanting to join the mercenary platoon. Of course, his coming to see Orba was illogical. Orba worked with mercenaries from Taúlia, not soldiers from Helio. However, he wasn’t able to flatly turn him away as it was Kay’s younger brother, Niels.

Gilliam, who was at the garrison, started out by shouting at him.

“You’re not fit to be a soldier with that leg. Go back and hide behind your sister.”

About three months earlier, Niels had enlisted as a volunteer and had taken part in the battle at Eimen against Garda’s army. There, he had been injured in his leg and he was still dragging it from the knee down when he walked.

But Niels stubbornly ignored him. He was carrying a bundle under his arm in which he had probably gathered up his belongings and a brand-new sword hung from his waist.

“My sister has someone good for her now. This isn’t going to cause trouble for anyone anymore. I don’t want a life where I’m just going to grow old helping my sister in this town!” Orba, who had just left the place, headed back. As soon as he saw that mask, Niels started vigorously appealing to him, almost kneeling at his feet.

“What are you going to do Orba…… Captain?”

At Shique’s question, Orba drummed his fingers against the sword at his waist.

“Follow me,” he said to Niels and brought him to the garden. It was little more than a courtyard surrounded by a high wall.

“Will you hire me?” Niels followed behind him, looking somewhat agitated. He was about the same age as Orba, perhaps a year older. Orba drew his sword as soon as they reached the garden.

“Come at me. I’ll test you out.”

His eyes gleamed quietly behind the mask and the sunlight reflected on his sword was piercing. Niels gulped.

At about the same moment, his sister Kay rushed into the garrison. She was no less agitated than her brother,

“Please stop him! He won’t make it back a second time if he goes to fight! Why can’t he understand that he’ll just end up like father?”

“Now, now. Calm down,” Gilliam shrugged his broad shoulders. “Your little brother will be right back. Look.”

Gilliam pointed to the garden door just as Orba came through it. Niels was following hot on his heels. But he looked as though he was about to stumble as not only his leg but also his arms didn’t seem to be moving properly.
“P-Please wait. That was, just one-sided,” he was gasping for breath.

“I told you, didn’t I? You get five tries to hit me. And if with that you can’t even graze me, then give up.”

“I wasn’t able to prepare. And you know, with this leg…”

“Who’s going to go easy on you on the battlefield because of your leg? Your enemies will aim for it and your allies will leave you behind as a dead weight. Either way, you’ll just end up as a corpse.”

“I-I’m… I’ll…”

His arms still hanging loosely from where they had gone numb when Orba repelled his sword, he fell to his knees. Orba walked away without turning to look as Niels’ tears dripped to the floor.

“Idiot. You idiot. You really are, you,” Kay’s voice was choked with tears as she hugged her little brother’s shoulders from behind.

While these various events were taking place, Ax Bazgan, the de facto leader of the western alliance, wrapped up his affairs in Taúlia. From organising the troops and ensuring the soldiers’ provisions to deciding what to do about defence and finance while he was away, there had been a mountain of things for him to do. And while he was thinking about them all, there was the risk that Garda would have pushed forward his western invasion before Ax had even taken a single step out of Taúlia.

Because Taúlia was situated at the eastern tip of Tauran, it didn’t have the same incessant coming and going of people as Cherik or Helio did. Because of that, there was no need for the same constant vigilance, but at the same time, its coffers did not grow full like those of the two other countries. There was barely any trade with Mephius to the east and even that was confined to a merchant called Zaj Haman.

“We can’t use up all our swords and bullets in this war.” Ax spoke lightly but his words were not a joke. If they defeated Garda but failed to quickly secure the northern trade routes, Taúlia or perhaps even the west itself would be weakened and would risk starving.

Also among the many concerns that Ax had settled was a visit to Bouwen Tedos’ sick room. Bouwen lay in bed in his room within the Fifth Army Corps’ barracks. He was embarrassed that his lord had come to visit in person and ashamed that he himself had brazenly survived despite losing the troops he had been given. Ax said only,

“Shame gets you nowhere. Work harder than ever for the sake of those who were lost.” Bouwen wept at his words.
Afterwards, Ax had Bouwen moved to a large room within the castle and entrusted him to care of the doctors who tended exclusively to the royal family.

For his part, the strategist Ravan Dol had managed to regain consciousness and was likewise bedridden within his apartments in Taúlia while he recovered his health. He was suffering from broken ribs and was in pain from his waist and back, so right now, there was no way he could join the front.

Ravan had refused to let Ax visit him.

“If you have the time to come and look at this old man’s face, then use to it to do what you should be doing as lord of Taúlia.”

His words were admirable but Ax understood what the strategist was really feeling. In a word, humiliation. Although the relationship between the two of them was that of superior and subordinate, it was also like that of teacher and student, like that of father and son, and occasionally like that of stubborn mutual adversaries.

In the end, Ravan had gone so far as to declare that “If my lord comes to see me, I will kill myself by slitting my own throat.” On the other hand, he had written a letter with measures for fighting Garda and had had it sent to his lord.

That busy period passed and Ax was once more on horseback, about to leave for Helio. Toún and Raswan, the father and son in charge of Taúlia’s defence, were there to see him off.

“Toún, I leave things to you while I’m gone.”

“Brother, I look forward to hearing about your travels. Be sure to tell us about how the sorcerer begged for his life.”

Toún said easily but as they bowed to Ax, who sat atop his horse, no word was heard from his son Raswan. But he suddenly fixed his eyes on the war fan that hung at Ax’s waist. Perhaps noticing his gaze, Ax casually made as if to hide it with his mantle.

At that time, was there anyone to notice that Raswan’s lips curved into a sinister smile?

Garda’s invasion had begun about half a year earlier.

The western alliance’s counter-attack was about to start.

<noinclude>

===References and Translation Notes===
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| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume6_Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
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</noinclude>

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume5 Chapter5

2017-06-03T13:11:58Z

183.83.92.110: /* Part 4 */

==Chapter 5: Lasvius' Unit==

=== Part 1 ===

Lasvius was frustrated.

Speaking of Lasvius, there wasn't a person in Helio who didn't know of the commander of the dragon riders. His many feats of arms had made his name famous not only in his own country but also throughout the four corners of Tauran. As he was a man who had sworn absolute loyalty to Helio's royal family, and even when Helio was being ravaged by civil war, he had stayed within its old castle and he and his men had fought bravely, singlehandedly taking on the might of the rebellion.

In the end however, he disappeared and it was rumoured that he might have died in battle.

That Lasvius.

He was still alive. As well as himself, three hundred of the dragoons who had served King Elargon had hidden themselves in the Belgana Summits.

By one of those jagged peaks that resembled sharp fangs, a wide valley opened to the east and west. Lasvius having discovered it at the end of their flight, they had piled up stones at the valley's entrance as a temporary defensive wall and over fifty of his troops, himself included, now dwelt in the caverns carved out in the cliff face. The remainder had been divided into platoons and, in similar shelters from the elements, awaited their opportunity.

The caves where Lasvius and his group lived had been eroded out of the rock over a very long period of time by water from a narrow tributary branch of a nearby river that flowed through there. Thanks to that, there was at least no shortage of drinking water. The platoons would occasionally come over and draw some. Food however was not so easy to come by.

It had been less than a month since Helio had fallen to hands of rebels. They had carefully rationed out and survived on the food that they had been able to carry with them. When it had run out, they had no choice but to roast and eat their horses and dragons. It was a dishonour for dragon riders. Even so, they had chewed at the meat of their favourite steeds and swallowed it in tears.

If they alone had escaped, they probably would not have been able to endure such a disgrace and would no doubt have resolved to face an honourable death by attempting to retake Helio. Nor had Lasvius ever feared death. However, there was one thing that he had to protect no matter what. The only hope remaining to them: Elargon's fatherless son, Rogier.

It had happened when Lasvius was still upholding the resistance movement within Helio.

As most of the royal palace had already been occupied, it was unclear whether the former king, Hardross, and Prince Rogier were even still alive. Then unexpectedly, several palace handmaidens had reached Lasvius by using the secret passages within the palace, bringing Rogier with them. It seemed they would be able to escape taking only the prince with them.

At that time, Lasvius immediately decided to leave Helio. The prince would only be in danger if they stayed there fighting. First of all, as long as the successor to the crown still lived, nobody, no matter what kind of person they might be, would be able to claim to be the rightful king. In other words, even if a false king, an arrogant usurper were to establish themselves in Helio, they would merely be beings that would inevitably one day be overthrown.

Lasvius escaped from Helio with his subordinates and the prince, and they hid themselves in these caves.

They would without fail return Helio to the hands of the rightful royal family – such was their wish and in order to accomplish it, they were willing to endure any hardship. Even as the soldiers gradually grew thinner and thinner, the gleam in their eyes grew sharper and they gave the impression that their very bodies had become keen-edged blades.

They were like carnivorous animals stalking their prey and awaiting intently for their chance. Cautiously, carefully, he had his men infiltrate Helio and get in contact with those soldiers who had been King Elargon's followers and who were likewise still hidden in Helio.

And then, the perfect opportunity arose. As Garda's army had departed from Eimen, a large military contingent set off from Helio. Some wanted to attack immediately, but Lasvius remained cautious. If they retook the city while the troops were on the march, those blades would turn back and Helio would once more be plunged into civil war.

To make their move, they needed to wait until the troops clashed with Garda's army. Therefore, while the troops were on the march, he had increased the number of his people acting in secret within the city.

''Even so – the fortunes of war were not with us''.

It was a mistake.

As the battle between Garda's army and Helio began, just as Lasvius' group was finally about to make its move, Helio suddenly fell. Moreover, Helio's troops were routed at the battle at the Coldrin Hills. All because the mercenary commander Greygun had betrayed them. In order to have their advance unit arrive at Helio half a day later, they had left the hilly area less than two hours before the start of the fight in which Garda's army and Greygun's troops joined forces. Because of his timing, Lasvius had completely lost his chance.

It was said that the false king Jallah was hauled off stark naked and publicly executed.

"Jallah should have been defeated at our hands. That those mercenary scoundrels were the ones to take his head – that more than anything, above anything, is intolerable!"

Lasvius recalled what the soldiers who had returned from Helio with that report had howled in frustration, their cheeks awash with tears.

"Marilène, that-that witch! She's definitely tied to Cherik. Greygun wasn't driven out by the king of Cherik because they'd fallen out. He was following the king's scheme from the start and came over to our Helio pretending to have been kicked out. The queen knew it and invited in that base, vulgar hawk!"

The proof of this was that now that the name of Helio's ruler had changed again in such a short time, Cherik had suddenly moved its troops. Not to bring relief to Helio. They had taken up position along the border with Taúlia. Having been forced to hurriedly make preparations to intercept them, Taúlia was unable to send reinforcements to Helio. This of course was Cherik's aim. Even though they didn't appear to be going to immediately assail Taúlia, they still hadn't pulled up camp.

Now, when Helio was falling, Taúlia could not easily move its army. Because be it Helio or Cherik, whichever route they chose, there was a high chance that they would be caught in a pincer attack.

''If they make a bad move, they'll end up in a deadlock''.

Lasvius grew more and more frustrated. They could only wait patiently for the next opportunity. However, given his unit's situation, would they be able to last another two or three weeks? If their identities were suspected by the nearby nomadic herders that they had sold their weapons to and bought food from, there might by someone among them who would run to Helio to inform on them. Garda's army was currently invincible and there would surely be many people who hoped to survive by forging a link with it.

''But I'm different'', thought Lasvius. Since the rightful king was nearby, he knew neither hunger nor fatigue. No, even if he felt them, even if he were on the verge of death, he wouldn't consider his own self-protection. That was the kind of man he was.

His men were the same. That very day, Lasvius had gone around all the places were his men were staying, starting with the caves, and as expected, the soldiers' faces were strongly marked with discouragement and weariness. Nevertheless, there was still some strength left. Lasvius had the personality befitting of a general and he shared a bond of steel with them.

''However'',

At present, there was an atmosphere of unrest in the cave. As he went towards the slime-covered cliff face, there was the main culprit. Seeing none other than Rogier talking to him, a crease appeared at the bridge of Lasvius' nose.

That man wore a mask.

The day before yesterday, Lasvius had received a report,

"Kurun has returned."

When he had heard the name Kurun, he had not immediately been able to remember him, but when he saw his face, he recognised the man as an apprentice dragoon. When Jallah had only just seized the throne, as vigilance was still weak, he had sent several people as mercenaries to Taúlia in order to gather information. Kurun was one of them.

Kurun had taken part in the battle at the Coldrin Hills. He had witnessed Greygun's treachery at first hand and it seemed that he had barely managed to escape alive. Angry and frustrated, the apprentice soldier had told his tale in tears. Lasvius appreciated his efforts, but Kurun wasn't alone; he had brought with him the Taúlian general, Bouwen, as well as several mercenaries. Among them, there was a swordsman who wore a mask and whose background was unknown, but according to Kurun, he was nothing short of a master.

"I think he will definitely be useful when we retake Helio."

As Bouwen had lost consciousness, Lasvius had made sure he was given medical treatment. They had no surplus supplies, but he was still a Taúlian commander. One way or another, he expected that he would come in useful.

Three of the mercenaries however were Mephians. Like all Zerdians, he hated Mephius. He and his father had taken part in the war against them more than ten years ago, and his father had lost his life in a surprise attack by Mephian forces.

Nevertheless, Lasvius made sure that his men didn't start a fight with them. They were deeply affected by the ugliness and futility of the internal strife in Helio. Their physical and mental endurance were reaching their limits, the only thing sustaining them was the thought of retaking their city. But turning that around, it meant that those who did not share that thought, even if they were allies, were nuisances who disturbed the bond.

''But if we drive them out, they know about this place...''

If it came to it, he would find some pretext to kill them. As far as Lasvius was concerned, there was no righteousness comparable to ensuring that Rogier would be the next king of Helio, and for that purpose, he was prepared to stain himself with any kind of disgrace.

A short while earlier.

Still wearing his mask, Orba, his back to the cliff face, was sharpening his sword. Shique returned to his side.

"How is he?"

"Still feverish. Aside from the wound to his shoulder, he also took a bullet to the back. His armour prevented it from reaching any internal organs but the bullet bit into his torn flesh."

Bouwen still hadn't regained consciousness. "I see," Orba replied as his polished blade reflected his own face.

Thanks to the river flowing through the caves, they could drink water to their heart's content, but they hadn't had a proper meal these past two or three days. Hunger gave rise to impatience and irritation. Every day the quick-tempered Talcott and Gilliam would almost cause trouble with Helio's dragoons, and every time they would be stopped by Stan and Shique.

Not only for Orba and the others but also for the dragon riders, feelings were growing more and more violent. As there was practically nothing to do except wait for an opportunity, every day they would sit in a circle and pile abuse on Greygun and Cherik. Taken together, the brunt of their hatred was aimed at Helio's queen, Marilène.

Once Greygun had become king of Helio, he had shamelessly desired Marilène to be queen again. And once again, Marilène had immediately agreed.

"Still, Helio's calamities are unending," Shique said with a sigh. He too was exhausted. "The king is killed in battle, and who would have thought there'd be a rebellion, then the mercenary commander they invited in turned traitor. And during that time, the ones who suffer the most are the powerless people. The violence of the Red Hawks is bad enough by itself, but Garda's army has taken people hostage and it's said they will be using them as sacrifices..."

It was said that on the day it fell, Helio was the scene of atrocities. Apparently all around, the mercenaries had broken into stores and houses, each intent on plundering even the tiniest bit more money and goods than his companions. Those who opposed them were mercilessly cut down and there was not a single street in which the screams of women could not be heard.

They might still have been continuing even now if not for the fact that on the day he became king, Greygun had considerably restrained them.

Now that he was no longer a mercenary commander but a king, it could be said that Greygun was going to maintain some kind sense and reason. Still, as to whether Helio was a country in which one could live as healthy a life as before, the answer was most definitely no.

"Apparently several of the high priests directly serving Garda have entered the court and demand several dozen sacrifices a day. On the king's orders, night after night the soldiers appear in the town to choose who among the people will be sacrificed and to carry them away. If their families cling to them and scream to try and stop them, they immediately heft them onto their shoulders and take them too."

"Enough."

"I hope Kay and Niels are safe. Since they'll have been marked down by the Red Hawks..."

"I said 'enough'. Stop it!" Orba suddenly barked out angrily. Shique looked surprised, but he kept his mouth shut as he watched Orba polishing his blade with all his might.

The anger that had accumulated in Orba's belly during their flight had become viscous and clung to his innards, not leaving him. His blood boiled as he couldn't stand the thought of how that traitor Greygun had become king and still remained in Helio.

''Now it’s personal''.

When he had been a body-double, Orba had been fond of tricky schemes, so the fact that he had been beaten by such a scheme stoked the fire of his hatred. He felt like immediately galloping off to Helio and marching into the castle alone.

"Is that the sword that you bombarded Moldorf with strokes from?"

A young voice asked. The boy who was approaching him was Elargon's only son, Rogier. There were several people with him who appeared to be acting as attendants, and it was clear from their expressions that they did not want Rogier going near the likes of a mercenary, but the boy's freckled face was alight with curiosity as he peered at the sword in Orba's hand. He was still only nine years old.

"It's said that Kadyne's Red Dragon is a commander equal to Lasvius. Are you stronger than Lasvius?"

Not even royalty was getting enough nutrition here, his sunken cheeks were slightly smeared with soil, and his eyes alone were shinning.

"Well, I don't know," as it was, Orba couldn't ignore him and placed his sword on the ground. "Besides, I didn't win against Moldorf. Even when I thrust a spear at him from the front, I couldn't hit him at all. And I think I broke a bone breaking through to him in single combat."

"Of course. Moldorf is said to be without peer on horseback," fittingly for a boy from the royal family, he seemed to enjoy stories about battles. Rogier continued with an air of conviction, "it's said that the first thing every country's strategists think of is how to drag Moldorf from his horse. Should they should shoot at him with bullets and arrows, or should they maybe threaten his horse by bringing a large dragon up to it."

"How about giving it an attractive mare?" Shique was so startled at Orba's words that he opened his eyes wide. Orba wasn't teasing, he just didn't care about the conversation. Naturally, the faces of the attendants behind the prince grew grim, however, "If Moldorf's horse forgets the battle and pounces on it, having gotten ready to fight as one with that horse, Moldorf might not be able to adjust his mental state."

"That might be a plan," Rogier was enjoying Orba's unexpected answer, "but an attractive horse... how could humans tell what a horse thinks is beautiful or ugly..."

"A friend of mine has a gift for hearing the 'voice' of dragons. Maybe there's also someone who can evaluate a horse's beauty or ugliness..."

"You talk exactly like royalty or nobility," Lasvius had approached them. Having received only a single glance from him, Orba didn't give any greeting either.

The general's face was in the same state as that of the other soldiers, but even though he was haggard, the physique beneath his armour remained impressive. He was thirty-five years old. Perhaps because he had grown thin, or perhaps because he had a month's worth of hatred and resentment stocked up, his always slanted eyes now seemed to slant even further and his glare had become truly terrifying.

Orba however was perfectly composed,

"It's the opposite. Because I don't know any royals or nobles, I don't understand the proper way to speak. My apologies if I was rude in any way."

"You…"

Even now, Helio's general was fearsome, and those around them held their breath. Then,

"Lasvius," Rogier interposed. He explained Orba's 'clever scheme' and asked whether among the subordinates, there was one who was thoroughly knowledgeable about horses. Lasvius gave a strained smile,

"I will have one searched for. Now then, Your Highness, it's time for your studies. This way, please."

"A bright and cheerful child," commented Shique. "That brightness is very much what is saving those around him. If he lives and retakes Helio, he will probably be a good king."

"Probably."

"Still, that child is more adult-like than you. Seeing you snap at everyone feels just like back in the old days."

"Shut up," Orba looked sullen and turned away.

Naturally, not even he expected to gain anything from being rude towards Lasvius. However, his frustration and hatred were equal to Lasvius' own. When they were escaping in fear of the shadow of their enemies, he had remembered the time in his childhood when he had been forced to flee from his native village.

''Shit!
''
Had he not picked up a sword so that would never happen again, so that nothing more could be taken from him?

''I'll have his head''.

He would not be able to rest until he looked down at Greygun's provoking face, his feet planted on either side of it.

''"Just like back in the old days,"'' just as Shique had pointed out. He was going back to being the lone swordsman who guarded only his own life and dignity with his sword.

=== Part 2 ===

"Move, move!"

Men clad in red armour were walking along the main streets of Helio. Although they weren't being chased away by especially loud voices, the people had almost all disappeared and the Red Hawks mercenaries haughtily swaggered on.

On the day Helio fell, they had been the ones to lay waste to the city. They had gone into every private house hunting for Helio's regular soldiers who were being sheltered there, but their purpose didn't stop there. The soldiers has snatched everything that caught their eye, had dragged young girls into the open alleyways, had killed any man who opposed them and had wrecked entire houses.

And so the people locked their doors and hid so as not the catch the mercenaries' eye. Only one elderly person watched the soldiers from a second-floor window of a merchant's house, but when they saw that the soldiers were pulling old-fashioned cannons in their midst, they drew back from the window, trembling fearfully, tightly clutching their frightened grandchildren.

The Red Hawks mercenaries were headed towards the Dragon Gods temple.

As could be expected, only men who acknowledged Garda as the high priest of the Dragon Gods were awarded positions as leaders and Garda's army had not once attacked a temple or a shrine. But there was a rumour that Helio's soldiers were hidden within it. The previous day, mercenaries from the Red Hawks had intruded in on it to perform a search, but the priests had driven them out, saying,

"Those bearing swords cannot enter. Besides, today a messenger from Garda is here."

Not so long ago, fear of strife with Garda's army would have made the mercenaries withdraw, but now they had an awareness that Helio was theirs. Drinking and rioting until morning had spurred their hatred.

Then one of them started to talk big.

"Garda's army is just a collection of troops from different countries. They can't stand up to us who are united in ruling one country."

"Right, if they fight back, we'll chase them out of the city," an artillery captain named Wadim added fervently.
And so it had turned into a march in which they pulled out guns. Their purpose was of course to flush out Helio's soldiers, but it seemed that the means had already turned into the end. As though to satisfy their childish desire for revenge, they positioned their guns before the temple.

Wadim was himself a Zerdian but through long association with foreigners in the course of his life as a mercenary, his awe and piety towards the Dragon Gods had completely faded away. There had been from the start a great number of ruffians with guilty consciousness among the Red Hawks. As they now ruled a country, their state of mind was naturally that of men who feared not even the gods.

They began ostentatiously heating the iron cannon balls <ref>[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heated_shot Heated] [http://www.hotshotfurnace.com/hotshothistory.html shot] is the practice of heating round shot before firing from muzzle-loading cannons, for the purpose of setting fire to enemy warships, buildings, or equipment.</ref> in front of the temple. It was a declaration of their intention to fire them one by one. Not surprisingly, the priests within the temple turned pale but,

"Please wait."

An unexpected person appeared.

Marilène. Just as for the Zerdian queens of yore, her handmaidens were holding the long, trailing veil that adorned her head. Marilène liked dressing up in this way when she went out during the day. It was a way of showing her own power.

"Well met, our lady queen," Wadim bowed in a fairly courteous manner. However, there was no trace of reverence in the stealthy glance he stole of the queen's sensual figure.

He gave a faint, fleeting sneer,

''A woman who'll switch from one man to another to protect her life and her position''.

It would have been one thing had it have stopped at scorn, but Marilène now drew the people of Helio's hatred even more than she had before. The queen was the only one who had managed to maintain the same political power as before Greygun became king. Most of the soldiers and nobles who had opposed the Red Hawks' insurrection had been killed, and those who were still alive had all been arrested. It was said that they were treated like animals.

''Marilène was the one who ushered in Greygun and Garda's army''.

That rumour was repeated as though it were the truth and it seemed that now, for the people, Marilène was seen as more deserving of their hatred than even Greygun or Garda.

Even Wadim and his ilk referred to her simply as 'the boss' woman'. But for all that, they didn't fear her in the slightest. However,

"Kindly take yourselves away at once," she said slightingly. She gave an aloof tilt of her chin and gazed coldly at Wadim. Her way of talking was exactly as though she were requesting that pebbles be removed from her path as they were obstructing her walk.

Wadim's face turned red.

"I-I do not believe that I will be able to take our lady queen's words into account. King Greygun has ordered that we capture every last one of Helio's soldiers. If you protect those who object to our search, then no matter how much you may be the queen..."

"And what did you mean to say by 'no matter how much I may be the queen'?" Wadim remained silent. Although he was a good head taller than the queen, he felt as though he was being looked down upon from an immensely high place. "I frequently come by here. If the priests and priestesses were sheltering soldiers, I would have noticed. However I have not seen any soldiers here, yourselves excepted."

"B-But..."

At that, the queen brought the back of her hand to her lips and gave a high-pitched laugh.

"But how very excessive of you to come to such a place pulling cannons and wearing full armour. There are none here who carry swords or spears. Who on earth within the Dragon Gods faith could possibly injure you?"

As she said that, Wadim and the others who had come ready and fully armed now felt like they were childishly storming a playground, and the former dignity of their full armour was now nothing but an embarrassment to them.

''Sh-Shit!''

Although no one other than Marilène was laughing, Wadim felt as though the people of Helio were peeping out from every nook and cranny, and that their faces all wore scornful smiles.

"T-This," even so, Wadim gave Marilène his best glare and said, "I have no choice but to report this to the king."

"Do as you please. Now then, have you done with your business? If so, you should leave."

Marilène's expression didn't change in the slightest. Her plump lips still curved into a smile and she entered the temple before Wadim's eyes.

It was not long since the sun had sunk over the horizon.

After she had taken a bath and as her handmaidens were combing out her hair, the clatter of Greygun's violent footsteps was heard approaching Marilène's room. As Marilène had not yet finished getting ready, there was a slight altercation at the door but as there was currently no one who could oppose Greygun, it was roughly flung open.

As Greygun advanced with long strides, it was as though a wild beast had been smuggled into the Court. However,

"Well, my dear lord," Marilène called out with the same cool smile she had shown Wadim. She had called him this since the day of her becoming Greygun's wife had first drawn near. Neither her voice nor her expression were those of a woman who had been toyed with by fate and hurled into cruel misfortune. Instead she gave the impression of having grown used to dealing with men who sought to obtain her.

Perhaps because of that, it stocked the fire of Greygun's anger.

"It seems you got in the soldiers' way," Helio's new king hurled out angrily.

The handmaidens silently shrank back. It was no wonder. What Greygun had done on the day he was proclaimed king was known throughout Helio. At daybreak, he had summoned the captive nobles to his presence and had them swear loyalty to himself.

He beheaded those who refused.

"Disloyal," he had called them.

He also beheaded those who pledged their loyalty.

"Those who easily switch allegiance aren't worthy of trust," he had smiled.

Even his barred teeth were stained with the blood that had spurted from his victims. Tens of corpses rolled at Greygun's feet, and it was said that they had been left where they were during the feast for his coronation.

Marilène had her handmaidens, who had quite lost their voices from fear, withdraw from her room.

"It was the temple that the sorcerer from Garda's army was visiting. If even a single soldier lay concealed there, he would have been noticed immediately and long since been captured. Was that not rather a fool's errand?"

She spoke as though completely indifferent to Greygun's anger. Naturally, Greygun was fully aware of what she had pointed out. Furthermore, if the soldiers had attacked the temple and caused him to incur the displeasure of Garda's army, it would be awkward for him. He was aware that Marilène's actions had safeguarded his own position.

Whispered slander and malicious gossip notwithstanding, Marilène was a queen of noble lineage. To make such a queen his wife, Greygun had worked his utmost to become a 'king', but it was difficult for he who had come from the lowest social layer to rid himself of his inferiority complex. Marilène had understood that and in her outward behaviour towards him, she always raised him up to the standing of a 'king', such as how she had just now called to him 'my dear lord'. And yet, it was irritating. ''It appears that someone like you can't even stop your own soldiers from acting according as they please'' – how long would it be before she openly spoke her scorn?
"This is my country. I will take charge of everything."

"Would you say the same thing to the sorcerer, Garda?"

"What?"

An enigmatic smile broke over Marilène's face. Greygun's eyes blazed.

''Is this vixen reading my thoughts?''

In truth, Greygun had trouble dealing with the sorcerers who called themselves Garda's direct subordinates. These were the men who handed down direct orders to Moldorf and the other officers. No sooner had their forces entered Helio than they demanded a hundred sacrifices. And thus they announced that from here on, once every two days, he would offer up ten young men and women. At first, Greygun had thought it was a joke. If a tiny city-state was to do that, it would very soon perish. But when he received the sorcerers' icy glares from beneath their hoods, it felt like his own body temperature dropped.
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v05 193.jpg|thumb]]

Besides which, it was said that new troops from Eimen would soon be sent to Helio as reinforcements for Garda's army. If their numbers increased, then no matter how much he might call himself 'king', Greygun didn't think that he would be able to control them.

The kingdom that Greygun had finally obtained after being born on a battlefield and having gone through countless battles was already giving off the stench of death and ruin.

Swallowing these various thoughts, Greygun put force into his voice,

"Anyway, don't just act as you please from now on."

"Even so," Marilène laughed in her rich voice, "As there is already a rumour that you, my dear lord, are being henpecked by the queen, your position can't be said that be that of an imposing king..."

Her chin was suddenly jerked upwards and Marilène stopped talking.

Greygun's glaring eyes were right next to hers. And yet, her smile was unperturbed.

The eyes that scorned him were like those of a witch and like those of a young girl's.

After her chin, Greygun seized Marilène's arm and forcibly made her stand, then threw her down on the canopied bed.

Then immediately was on top of her.

"Don't say anything more," he sealed her lips. Holding her down, he wished to waste no time in confirming that Marilène was entirely his. The woman who had three times been queen did not fight him. But Greygun couldn't help but feel her icy, scornful gaze as she allowed him to stroke her skin.

=== Part 3 ===

Bouwen regained consciousness on the fourth day after Orba's group had joined with Lasvius'.

He had wept where he lay when he heard that Duncan and the others had made a stand and prepared to fight to the death in order to allow him to escape.

That very evening, a war council was held in a secluded part of the cavern and for some reason, Orba was summoned to it.

"I heard from Kurun. About how you displayed quick-wits during the retreat from the Coldrins. If you have any scheme for turning things around, speak."

It was something that had long been true for the man called Orba that if there were people that he felt he couldn't stomach, many among those people would also find Orba disagreeable and hateful. Lasvius was another such.
Orba had originally known little about Helio's circumstances. But now anger against Greygun was smouldering in his chest and he advocated gathering the best men and having them infiltrate Helio to kill him.

"Quite the hero," Lasvius sneered, "but if we do as you say and the operation fails, our survival will be suspected and we'll be destroyed. It seems you're a little overrated."

"What?"

Blood rushed to Orba's head and Shique, who had gone with him, had to calm him down.

Naturally Lasvius wasn't simply bidding for time. Via his men who had snuck into the city since before the battle at the Coldrin Hills, he was making arrangements for an uprising to be staged within Helio. Things such as where the captured soldiers were being held and how they were being guarded had been thoroughly investigated, and once they had been rescued, they would aim for Greygun.

But the two thousand of Garda's troops stationed there were a problem. First of all, they would need to move those troops out of Helio.

"When the time comes," Lasvius said while looking sharply at a map of Helio's surroundings, "we will launch a full surprise attack on Helio and we should be able to draw out the enemy."

His subordinates nodded, their faces grim and resolved.

''Ha'', Orba scoffed.

Considering the scale of the enemy numbers, making a surprise attack and luring them out with just three hundred soldiers wasn't worth much. Say they succeeded in retaking Helio, would they be able to defend it against an attack from Garda's army?

Realising that any moment now Orba was going to open his mouth to say something sarcastic, Shique had to struggle to hold him in check.

"Don't be childish," Shique said after the war council was over. The nearby Gilliam shrugged,

"Why say that at this point in time? He's always been a brat."

"No, back when he was prince, he still had a clear head. Whereas the problem with you is that your limbs are just too strong."

"My limbs?"

"You first start by thoughtlessly sorting things out through brute strength. Unless your hands and feet are bound, not once will you use your head to think."

Still seething with anger, Orba ignored them.

"What Lasvius said is reasonable. If we attack Greygun from the shadows at this point, Garda's forces won't care. Regardless of how he got the throne or what he is doing now that he has it, Greygun is currently king. If Helio loses its king again, it will be at the mercy of Garda's army. And if that happens, every last person in the city will be as good as already sacrificed."

"Where are you going, Orba?"

Gilliam asked as Orba suddenly stood up. "Nowhere," he answered and walked out of the cavern. Hunger had made Gilliam irritable. Orba's brusque attitude was about to make him sullenly stand up when,

"Wa-Wait."

"What? You always take his side you bastard, but this time..."

"Didn't you see his face just now? He's thinking of something. At times like these, don't Orba's eyes truly make you shiver?"

Even if he was asked, Gilliam could hardly sympathise. But anyhow, he realised that fighting was a waste of energy and lowered himself back down again.

As for Orba,

"Don't go too far," while acknowledging the warning from the soldier on guard duty, he walked beneath the night sky.

''A king?''

It was as Shique said. If he cut down Greygun who had become king, other than satisfying his current desire for revenge, it would lead to nothing.

''Lead to nothing... For who would it lead to nothing?''

He had lost his position as prince, so for who on earth did he need to hesitate for, he wondered. But Orba now remembered the time when they passed through the gate on the way to fight.

It had been a proud scene for the soldiers, that moment when they were being seen off by the people. But it had had nothing to do with Orba himself. Helio not being his hometown, he had almost no acquaintances there. Still, among all those there, there had been two faces, those of Kay and Niels... Their eyes had been following him until he was out of sight.

''The soldier seen off by his family or lover holds on to that instant as he goes to face death.''

It might have been the same for Roan. Perhaps being seen off by the large crowd of villagers – including Orba himself, their mother and Alice – had made him feel just a little proud. Had he thought to himself that he would protect them?

Orba had stopped walking without realising it and stared up defiantly at the night sky. His anger hadn't cooled down. Quite the opposite, it had reached boiling point. But it wasn't his personal feelings towards Greygun. Greygun had betrayed and killed soldiers who had left with the same expression as Roan had, with the same pride at going to protect their city and families.

Garda was plunging the entire west into fear. Following the same path as Alice and his mother, the people were merely being toyed with by power and violence.

He could now understand why he had flared up in anger when Shique had informed him about Helio's current situation.

It hadn't only been anger against Greygun. More than anything, Orba was angry at himself.

Why hadn't he been able to see through Greygun's betrayal? He should have foreseen that there might have been a trap. If he had been able to show that it was through definite words or actions, something like that might not have happened.

Ever since defeating Oubary, he had been listless about everything and that Helio - that Kay and Niels might have landed in a fix because of it was something that he had regretted without realising it.

''Tsk.''

Naturally he didn't believe that he could have turned around that battle at the Coldrins simply through his own conclusions.

He had experience of a number of battlegrounds. That Helio had been forced to rely on a man like Greygun, that Garda's mysterious army was being allowed to run rampant meant that darkness had taken root in the very world of western Tauran.

''Betrayal and strife.''

As the west was now, that chain continued on. Although those from the same origin were gathered here, all they did was fight in this wide land.

''Tauran has no king.''

Ax Bazgan insisted that he himself was by blood the successor to the former Zer Tauran. But it was not thought that Taúlia currently had the strength needed to unify the whole land. And so the various powers all believed that they had a chance of becoming king and continued to fight. The mysterious Garda had taken advantage of that...

"Yeah."

Unexpectedly hearing someone speak, Orba strained his ears. It seemed that the soldiers who had gone out to keep watch were on their way back. So as not to be disturbed while he was thinking, he concealed himself off to one side.

Orba hadn't intended to listen in on their conversation, but as he heard it, he went pale under his mask.

It appeared that Lasvius’ group had summoned those from within the nomadic herders who conducted transactions with the outside for the next day and where intending to exchange weapons and food. But in order to prevent their identities and hiding place from leaking out, Lasvius planned to attack them once they had received the food.

The pride of dragoons is great indeed, Orba snickered beneath his mask. Lasvius was someone he couldn't stomach and now that his intuition had been vindicated, he could loathe him to his heart’s content.

Orba blinked suddenly and started to indulge in a different thought.

Orba could feel something welling up within him. It no longer had anything to do with his personal feelings for Lasvius.

It wasn't a change that he himself was conscious of, but as he looked up at the sky, Orba's eyes were the same as when he had worn the 'mask' of Gil Mephius.

Late that night.

News had reached Lasvius from an ally who was keeping watch on Helio. It was not good news.

"Reinforcements for Garda's forces?"

The report stated that reinforcements a thousand strong would soon arrive from Eimen. They were just waiting for a further five hundred rear-guard troops to arrive at Eimen. According to estimates, it would be in about a week's time.

''One thousand in reinforcements''.

They had probably brought them to invade Taúlia. Even though he guessed that there would be more opportunities for moving his unit than during the deadlock, the increased numbers would no doubt also mean tighter defences in Helio.

Feeling increasingly driven into a corner, Lasvius ground his teeth.

In Taúlia was southeast of Helio. News of the defeat at the Coldrin Hills and of the fall of Helio had of course reached there as well.

"Father !" Upon hearing of it, Esmena had come flying out of the chambers in which she had locked herself and was clinging to her father Ax. "Is Bouwen... What happened to Bouwen?"

"He's not the kind of man to kick the bucket that easily. Now calm down in case those attacks of yours flare up again."

Despite his remonstrations to his daughter, Ax Bazgan's own thoughts were anything but calm.

''Damn Cherik, joining forces with that sorcerer''.

At about the halfway point between Taúlia and Cherik, an encampment of seven hundred of the latter's army stretched out. As they were right at their border, they couldn't make any careless moves.

"If it comes to that, it will be a short and decisive battle. Can we tear all the way to Cherik in one go?"

"We could do that, however..." Ravan Dol had not relaxed his cautious stance. Indeed, it was because he had foreseen the possibility of Cherik joining forces with Garda that he had until now being urging his lord to act prudently. "If the enemy withdraws into the town and holds siege, unless we have our entire army, it will cost us time. Taúlia would be completely empty and if Garda's army make their move from Helio at that time, it will fall."

"Don't answer so seriously and do you take me for a fool? I was just caught up in the mood."

"Hmm, no wonder since it's you, my lord."

''And here I thought that he'd actually had a good idea...'' He added the second half in an inaudible voice.

"What?" Ax said irritably. Without his war fan, he was unable to calm down. "If you want to say something, say it. I hear you've sent out a number of spies so do you have a plan? At this rate, we're going to be encircled by every power in Tauran."

"Leave it to me. My lord, you most uphold appearances and calmly remain the lord that the people and soldiers rely on."

"Remain calm," said Ax, half in despair. It was of course not in his nature to helplessly wait for ruin. Be it soldiers, dragons or bullets, his preparations were flawless and he had purchased a large new air carrier equipped for handling major combat. Although their existence hadn't been made public, he had hired a number of people skilled at handling ships. When the time came, he would have soldiers loaded into the new ship to attack the enemy from behind.

Taúlia was tense with the strain of constantly wondering if war was finally at hand.

"They weren't able to finish Bouwen off?"

A man asked upon hearing that there were no reports from the battlefield about that one person.

Raswan Bazgan.

"Well, fine. All he can do now is a die a dog's death in the wilds he escaped to. All according to plan. Next is to not make any mistakes with the preparations here," he muttered, turning his dark eyes to what was outside the window.

Several years ago, there had been a skirmish with a clan of nomads living in Taúlia and, without his uncle's permission, he had captured and slaughtered about thirty of them within their own territory. Raswan had been in command during that fight, but as his numerous services had otherwise been distinguished, Ax had given him a severe reprimand then forgotten all about it. Despite the appearance of merit, there were no women within the castle to lavish praise on him as his dark eyes seemed to say that he had not carried that massacre out against his will but had done so calmly, on a whim.

And so, while the matter of the candidates to be Taúlia's next successor had yet to be settled, there were very few voices raised in favour of Raswan.

"Our numbers are increasing. Next will be our turn. Whatever you do, don't make any mistakes."

"No."

The voice that responded to Raswan’s mutter was like the threatening hiss of a snake.

=== Part 4 ===

''It's unavoidable'', Lasvius was filled with a grim determination, ''when they clash with Taúlia, that's when we'll make our move''.

A repeat of the Coldrins was not something he felt he could accept. That time, he wasn't intending to move before receiving detailed reports of the battle situation. And as a result, Greygun's insurrection had occurred and they missed their chance. Although certainly, as Lasvius had not seen through the situation, had they have moved recklessly, there was the fear that they would have been annihilated.

''Better that than to wait until it is too late and be driven into a corner from which we can't escape. Better to fight and risk death than to die slowly, starved and weakened''.

Lasvius was not loath to die if it were for a just cause. But to starve with their bones exposed to nothing but depressing cliff walls on all sides was not to be contemplated.

''We might as well die leaving our names behind''.

That would be the best for defeated soldiers. Lasvius smoothly stroked his skin. Even in this situation, he still conscientiously shaved every day using a knife. Not because he was fastidious. Not only his slanted eyes but his facial features were strangely sharp. His face was slender and his nose and lips were thin, giving it an angular impression. Lasvius hated that his face tended to look feminine. Therefore in the past, he had grown an impressive beard and flaunted his masculinity. Shaving it off had been a sort of vow to himself. Until Rogier was placed upon the throne of Helio, he would endure the disgrace and shave his beard.

''Even under pain of death, I will not break this oath'', Lasvius had been bent on that thought as he had shaved that morning.

Now, when he was finally ready to discuss his resolve with his men, he received a strange report. The group who had left early in the morning to trade with the nomads had returned but had not been able to attack them as Orba had his forced his way into coming along.

"You damn fools," Lasvius eyes narrowed still further as he yelled, "you should have just killed him if he was getting in the way!"

"N-No, that..." Sweat appeared on the soldiers’ brows as they justified themselves. Ostensibly, Orba and the others hadn't done anything and had simply accompanied them to watch. "He brought Lord Rogier with him, we couldn't kill the nomads in front of the prince!"

Whatever his intention had been, Orba had apparently placed the prince onto a horse. And afterwards he had been in deep conversation with the nomads about something.

"What were Lord Rogier's attendants doing! If they're not careful, the prince might be kidnapped by the mercenaries!"
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v05 207.jpg|thumb]]

"We wouldn’t do that."

That voice seemed to reverberate throughout the cave and when he turned around, there was the masked man. For a moment, Lasvius seemed about to give in to emotion but held himself in check.

"We are not a bunch of self-serving mercenaries who only act to suit themselves. I'd appreciate it if you would refrain from behaviour that disrupts discipline."

"How long can you maintain discipline like that," Orba said, completely unconcerned by Lasvius' scowl. "If you order your men to attack treacherously, their mood will just keep getting uglier."

"What!" This time Lasvius shouted in rage. Then his expression was wiped away and he seemed to gulp. Orba completely changed the subject.

"So it seems that reinforcements from Garda's side will be heading to Helio."

"So what? Do you still think that you can march into Helio and strike Greygun down?"

"No," Orba glanced at Lasvius through his mask then looked at the nearby soldiers around whom a dangerous mood was starting to cling. "Call a council of war," he said. Lasvius and the others looked disappointed. "I'll be taking part as the representative for the Taúlian general, Bouwen Tedos. Sir Bouwen has of course given a blood seal."

The place used for the council of war was inside the caves. There were only a few cracks in the roof through which narrow beams of daylight poured down. The various platoon leaders scattered around the base of the mountain, not to mention Lasvius and his close aides, were gathered there. Accordingly, Lasvius started out by talking about his intentions. He had not needed Orba to tell him to summon a council of war as he had from the start intended to do so and to convey his resolution to his men.

The commanders of the small cavalry units shed tears. One day, they would kill the usurper king Jallah and triumphantly return to Helio with Rogier as king - with nothing but that ideal to hold on to, those warriors had been able to endure to their circumstances and surroundings. And then suddenly, Jallah had died and a scoundrel like Greygun had claimed the title of king of Helio and had opened the gates to usher in Garda's army.

This matter was no longer Helio's problem alone. In a week's time, the country would be filled with twice, three times the number of soldiers now stationed in Helio and they would commence their march on Taúlia.

"This is our last chance," said Lasvius, trying to hide the quiver in his voice. "While the enemy is fighting Taúlia, our soldiers on the inside will rise up as one and occupy Helio."

Everyone there listened, deeply impressed by Lasvius' declaration then, one by one, they rose from their seats.

"Let's go."

"We will fight this holy crusade together."

In that moment, the iron bonds that tied Lasvius' unit together stood firm. Emotions that he could not suppress welled within him and, with ardent eyes, he was clasping each in turn by the hand when,

"As expected," one person poured cold water over the proceedings. Orba, the only one still sitting, nodded. "You have resolve."

''Humph''.

Lasvius felt disdainful of Orba. It seemed to him that despite his earlier stance that "If you order your men to attack treacherously, their mood will just keep getting uglier," he would not be able to do otherwise than to recognise their solidarity. Looking convinced, Orba however said something strange.

"It's just as General Bouwen said."

"Sir Bouwen? What do you mean?"

"The general said that Sir Lasvius had whispered a secret plan to him to turn the situation around. He said that before opening your heart to your men however, you would first test the soldiers' resolve. Indeed. As you have three hundred patriots resolute unto death, your secret plan is sure to bear results."

"A secret plan?"

"Sir, is this true?"

Lasvius couldn't rein in his subordinates as they all spoke in unison. And he himself had no idea what this was about.

Orba continued on serenely,

"A moment ago, Sir Lasvius said that he would wait for the enemy reinforcements and move once they had started attacking Taúlia, but in practice, that would be tantamount to your soldiers dying in vain. That Garda's forces will swell means that the garrison at Helio will increase."

"W-What do you mean, 'dying in vain'?"

They looked as though cold water had been dashed on their desperate resolve and one of the captains went red in the face. Something similar could be said of Lasvius too, but in his case,

''It can't be that he is''...

He felt a violent trepidation. Could it be that he was planning to divulge his own plan by pretending that it had been thought up by the commander of the unit, Lasvius himself?

"It's fine, Orba. Continue."

Lasvius brought his agitated men under control. A part of him was also thinking that this was interesting. Lasvius couldn't stand Orba but mingled within him was also the thought that he was somehow different from others. And so, by way of experiment, he intended to let him speak. If what he said was ridiculous, he could always laugh and brush it aside.

Orba nodded once then,

"...At any rate, in this fight, you have to take care of things before Garda's reinforcements arrive. Attract the attention of the enemies currently within Helio towards the outside and use that chance to have the soldiers within the city rise to action."

''What?''

Lasvius' disappointment came from the fact that this was a plan anyone could come up with. In fact, one of his men burst out laughing.

"With our numbers, not even the most drastic measures would be enough to draw the enemy outside. And the same holds true for there being an opportunity in which they would leave Helio. Bastard, you were lying about this plan of the commander's, weren't..."

"It's not about our numbers. Because we won't be moving Garda's forces, Taúlia will."

"What?"

"If Taúlia pushes through to the front lines, given their impressive numbers, the enemy will have to consider making their own move. Will they launch a counter-offensive through the gate or will they rely on their support, close the gate and fight a defensive war? In the former case, your soldiers within Helio will find it easy to move around, and in the latter case, if those inside light fires to provoke chaos, it will be easy for Taúlia to invade."

"Absurd. As long as Garda's forces don't move, Taúlia won't either. Cherik has struck up camp to threaten them."

"They will move," Orba asserted, "if we convey this plan to them. Without a doubt. Compared to Garda, Cherik is an insignificant force. If it becomes clear that Taúlia is serious in attacking Garda's army, then they'll be scared of being next. By remaining near Taúlia, Cherik is instead growing arrogant."

''I see''...

In front of his subordinates, who were agitatedly exchanging looks, Lasvius folded his arms. Orba's plan was certainly forcible, and a single miscalculation would render the chances of success extremely low. But Lasvius had from the start been preparing himself for a desperate fight.

''This guy... interesting''.

It wasn't a plan worked out through minute calculations and was somewhat crude, but as a military man, it set his blood coursing.

"Here," Orba placed a sheathed dagger and a letter on the damp ground, "this is a dagger proving Sir Bouwen's position and a letter in his own handwriting. We can send this to Taúlia to urge them to go to take to the battlefield."

"B-But," a cavalry captain interposed. His face showed his confusion. He was starting to wonder if it might not really be a plan from his commander, Lasvius. "The road to Taúlia is blockaded. The mountain fortress that Helio holds here in the Belgana summits which is along the way to Taúlia has been turned into a temporary checkpoint. Even if we send a messenger, it will be impossible for him to avoid getting noticed."

"It will be easy to get through the checkpoint by pretending to be an ordinary civilian. In this situation, the enemy will be more vigilant against Zerdians."

"Are you saying that you'll go?"

Realising Orba's intention, the various commanders showed disapproval. He was not a comrade tied to them with bonds of steel and they didn't trust the outsiders that were the mercenaries.

Since earlier, Orba's detached tone had remained completely unshaken.

"I'll become a hostage and stay here. The journey to Taúlia should take about three days, I think, so if there is no movement after those three days, you can do whatever you want with me."

"But,"

"Fine," the one who spoke was Lasvius. He stood up in front of the commanders who swallowed back their words. "I intend to bet on that plan. How about everyone else? You are the self-same warriors who were willing to challenge death just a while ago. If you object to this, I will think of you neither as cowards nor as traitors. Say what is on your mind."

With him having said so, it was difficult for them to show opposition. Therefore, they agreed to wait three days.
Having left the council of war, Orba went ahead along the winding path.

"I can't stand you," his shoulder was clapped from behind. It was Lasvius. "Everything is going the way you want, so are you satisfied?"

"Well."

"I wouldn't be surprised to learn that there's someone famous beneath that mask of yours. But as I said earlier, this is a bet. A bet using your life as security."

"I'm used to it."

The answer and the tone of voice used were so provoking that Lasvius gave a low laugh instead. Up until now, he truly hadn't been able to stomach him, but now he felt entirely comfortable.

"Let's see how things go. A battle in which we face nothing but death has become just a little more interesting."

''That's a military man for you'', Lasvius' way of speaking got on Orba's nerves. That he couldn't stand him was because, be it his convictions or his pride as a soldier, he closely resembled a man who had been the embodiment of chivalry and that Orba had once faced off against at Zaim Fortress.

''That man even pointed a sword at his lord's daughter for the sake of his beliefs. And this guy too, to recover Helio, he was willing to murder nomads who had nothing to do with anything. That might be a splendid attitude, but from an outsider's perspective, it's sickening''.

Even though he thought so, or rather, because Lasvius was a soldier, Orba also thought to place trust in him. In short, because Lasvius himself had relaxed his ill will towards him, Orba calculated that it would be advantageous to do the same.

<noinclude>

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

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| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume5_Chapter4|Chapter 4]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume5_Chapter6|Chapter 6]]
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</noinclude>

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume5 Chapter5

2017-06-03T12:49:21Z

183.83.92.110: /* Part 1 */

==Chapter 5: Lasvius' Unit==

=== Part 1 ===

Lasvius was frustrated.

Speaking of Lasvius, there wasn't a person in Helio who didn't know of the commander of the dragon riders. His many feats of arms had made his name famous not only in his own country but also throughout the four corners of Tauran. As he was a man who had sworn absolute loyalty to Helio's royal family, and even when Helio was being ravaged by civil war, he had stayed within its old castle and he and his men had fought bravely, singlehandedly taking on the might of the rebellion.

In the end however, he disappeared and it was rumoured that he might have died in battle.

That Lasvius.

He was still alive. As well as himself, three hundred of the dragoons who had served King Elargon had hidden themselves in the Belgana Summits.

By one of those jagged peaks that resembled sharp fangs, a wide valley opened to the east and west. Lasvius having discovered it at the end of their flight, they had piled up stones at the valley's entrance as a temporary defensive wall and over fifty of his troops, himself included, now dwelt in the caverns carved out in the cliff face. The remainder had been divided into platoons and, in similar shelters from the elements, awaited their opportunity.

The caves where Lasvius and his group lived had been eroded out of the rock over a very long period of time by water from a narrow tributary branch of a nearby river that flowed through there. Thanks to that, there was at least no shortage of drinking water. The platoons would occasionally come over and draw some. Food however was not so easy to come by.

It had been less than a month since Helio had fallen to hands of rebels. They had carefully rationed out and survived on the food that they had been able to carry with them. When it had run out, they had no choice but to roast and eat their horses and dragons. It was a dishonour for dragon riders. Even so, they had chewed at the meat of their favourite steeds and swallowed it in tears.

If they alone had escaped, they probably would not have been able to endure such a disgrace and would no doubt have resolved to face an honourable death by attempting to retake Helio. Nor had Lasvius ever feared death. However, there was one thing that he had to protect no matter what. The only hope remaining to them: Elargon's fatherless son, Rogier.

It had happened when Lasvius was still upholding the resistance movement within Helio.

As most of the royal palace had already been occupied, it was unclear whether the former king, Hardross, and Prince Rogier were even still alive. Then unexpectedly, several palace handmaidens had reached Lasvius by using the secret passages within the palace, bringing Rogier with them. It seemed they would be able to escape taking only the prince with them.

At that time, Lasvius immediately decided to leave Helio. The prince would only be in danger if they stayed there fighting. First of all, as long as the successor to the crown still lived, nobody, no matter what kind of person they might be, would be able to claim to be the rightful king. In other words, even if a false king, an arrogant usurper were to establish themselves in Helio, they would merely be beings that would inevitably one day be overthrown.

Lasvius escaped from Helio with his subordinates and the prince, and they hid themselves in these caves.

They would without fail return Helio to the hands of the rightful royal family – such was their wish and in order to accomplish it, they were willing to endure any hardship. Even as the soldiers gradually grew thinner and thinner, the gleam in their eyes grew sharper and they gave the impression that their very bodies had become keen-edged blades.

They were like carnivorous animals stalking their prey and awaiting intently for their chance. Cautiously, carefully, he had his men infiltrate Helio and get in contact with those soldiers who had been King Elargon's followers and who were likewise still hidden in Helio.

And then, the perfect opportunity arose. As Garda's army had departed from Eimen, a large military contingent set off from Helio. Some wanted to attack immediately, but Lasvius remained cautious. If they retook the city while the troops were on the march, those blades would turn back and Helio would once more be plunged into civil war.

To make their move, they needed to wait until the troops clashed with Garda's army. Therefore, while the troops were on the march, he had increased the number of his people acting in secret within the city.

''Even so – the fortunes of war were not with us''.

It was a mistake.

As the battle between Garda's army and Helio began, just as Lasvius' group was finally about to make its move, Helio suddenly fell. Moreover, Helio's troops were routed at the battle at the Coldrin Hills. All because the mercenary commander Greygun had betrayed them. In order to have their advance unit arrive at Helio half a day later, they had left the hilly area less than two hours before the start of the fight in which Garda's army and Greygun's troops joined forces. Because of his timing, Lasvius had completely lost his chance.

It was said that the false king Jallah was hauled off stark naked and publicly executed.

"Jallah should have been defeated at our hands. That those mercenary scoundrels were the ones to take his head – that more than anything, above anything, is intolerable!"

Lasvius recalled what the soldiers who had returned from Helio with that report had howled in frustration, their cheeks awash with tears.

"Marilène, that-that witch! She's definitely tied to Cherik. Greygun wasn't driven out by the king of Cherik because they'd fallen out. He was following the king's scheme from the start and came over to our Helio pretending to have been kicked out. The queen knew it and invited in that base, vulgar hawk!"

The proof of this was that now that the name of Helio's ruler had changed again in such a short time, Cherik had suddenly moved its troops. Not to bring relief to Helio. They had taken up position along the border with Taúlia. Having been forced to hurriedly make preparations to intercept them, Taúlia was unable to send reinforcements to Helio. This of course was Cherik's aim. Even though they didn't appear to be going to immediately assail Taúlia, they still hadn't pulled up camp.

Now, when Helio was falling, Taúlia could not easily move its army. Because be it Helio or Cherik, whichever route they chose, there was a high chance that they would be caught in a pincer attack.

''If they make a bad move, they'll end up in a deadlock''.

Lasvius grew more and more frustrated. They could only wait patiently for the next opportunity. However, given his unit's situation, would they be able to last another two or three weeks? If their identities were suspected by the nearby nomadic herders that they had sold their weapons to and bought food from, there might by someone among them who would run to Helio to inform on them. Garda's army was currently invincible and there would surely be many people who hoped to survive by forging a link with it.

''But I'm different'', thought Lasvius. Since the rightful king was nearby, he knew neither hunger nor fatigue. No, even if he felt them, even if he were on the verge of death, he wouldn't consider his own self-protection. That was the kind of man he was.

His men were the same. That very day, Lasvius had gone around all the places were his men were staying, starting with the caves, and as expected, the soldiers' faces were strongly marked with discouragement and weariness. Nevertheless, there was still some strength left. Lasvius had the personality befitting of a general and he shared a bond of steel with them.

''However'',

At present, there was an atmosphere of unrest in the cave. As he went towards the slime-covered cliff face, there was the main culprit. Seeing none other than Rogier talking to him, a crease appeared at the bridge of Lasvius' nose.

That man wore a mask.

The day before yesterday, Lasvius had received a report,

"Kurun has returned."

When he had heard the name Kurun, he had not immediately been able to remember him, but when he saw his face, he recognised the man as an apprentice dragoon. When Jallah had only just seized the throne, as vigilance was still weak, he had sent several people as mercenaries to Taúlia in order to gather information. Kurun was one of them.

Kurun had taken part in the battle at the Coldrin Hills. He had witnessed Greygun's treachery at first hand and it seemed that he had barely managed to escape alive. Angry and frustrated, the apprentice soldier had told his tale in tears. Lasvius appreciated his efforts, but Kurun wasn't alone; he had brought with him the Taúlian general, Bouwen, as well as several mercenaries. Among them, there was a swordsman who wore a mask and whose background was unknown, but according to Kurun, he was nothing short of a master.

"I think he will definitely be useful when we retake Helio."

As Bouwen had lost consciousness, Lasvius had made sure he was given medical treatment. They had no surplus supplies, but he was still a Taúlian commander. One way or another, he expected that he would come in useful.

Three of the mercenaries however were Mephians. Like all Zerdians, he hated Mephius. He and his father had taken part in the war against them more than ten years ago, and his father had lost his life in a surprise attack by Mephian forces.

Nevertheless, Lasvius made sure that his men didn't start a fight with them. They were deeply affected by the ugliness and futility of the internal strife in Helio. Their physical and mental endurance were reaching their limits, the only thing sustaining them was the thought of retaking their city. But turning that around, it meant that those who did not share that thought, even if they were allies, were nuisances who disturbed the bond.

''But if we drive them out, they know about this place...''

If it came to it, he would find some pretext to kill them. As far as Lasvius was concerned, there was no righteousness comparable to ensuring that Rogier would be the next king of Helio, and for that purpose, he was prepared to stain himself with any kind of disgrace.

A short while earlier.

Still wearing his mask, Orba, his back to the cliff face, was sharpening his sword. Shique returned to his side.

"How is he?"

"Still feverish. Aside from the wound to his shoulder, he also took a bullet to the back. His armour prevented it from reaching any internal organs but the bullet bit into his torn flesh."

Bouwen still hadn't regained consciousness. "I see," Orba replied as his polished blade reflected his own face.

Thanks to the river flowing through the caves, they could drink water to their heart's content, but they hadn't had a proper meal these past two or three days. Hunger gave rise to impatience and irritation. Every day the quick-tempered Talcott and Gilliam would almost cause trouble with Helio's dragoons, and every time they would be stopped by Stan and Shique.

Not only for Orba and the others but also for the dragon riders, feelings were growing more and more violent. As there was practically nothing to do except wait for an opportunity, every day they would sit in a circle and pile abuse on Greygun and Cherik. Taken together, the brunt of their hatred was aimed at Helio's queen, Marilène.

Once Greygun had become king of Helio, he had shamelessly desired Marilène to be queen again. And once again, Marilène had immediately agreed.

"Still, Helio's calamities are unending," Shique said with a sigh. He too was exhausted. "The king is killed in battle, and who would have thought there'd be a rebellion, then the mercenary commander they invited in turned traitor. And during that time, the ones who suffer the most are the powerless people. The violence of the Red Hawks is bad enough by itself, but Garda's army has taken people hostage and it's said they will be using them as sacrifices..."

It was said that on the day it fell, Helio was the scene of atrocities. Apparently all around, the mercenaries had broken into stores and houses, each intent on plundering even the tiniest bit more money and goods than his companions. Those who opposed them were mercilessly cut down and there was not a single street in which the screams of women could not be heard.

They might still have been continuing even now if not for the fact that on the day he became king, Greygun had considerably restrained them.

Now that he was no longer a mercenary commander but a king, it could be said that Greygun was going to maintain some kind sense and reason. Still, as to whether Helio was a country in which one could live as healthy a life as before, the answer was most definitely no.

"Apparently several of the high priests directly serving Garda have entered the court and demand several dozen sacrifices a day. On the king's orders, night after night the soldiers appear in the town to choose who among the people will be sacrificed and to carry them away. If their families cling to them and scream to try and stop them, they immediately heft them onto their shoulders and take them too."

"Enough."

"I hope Kay and Niels are safe. Since they'll have been marked down by the Red Hawks..."

"I said 'enough'. Stop it!" Orba suddenly barked out angrily. Shique looked surprised, but he kept his mouth shut as he watched Orba polishing his blade with all his might.

The anger that had accumulated in Orba's belly during their flight had become viscous and clung to his innards, not leaving him. His blood boiled as he couldn't stand the thought of how that traitor Greygun had become king and still remained in Helio.

''Now it’s personal''.

When he had been a body-double, Orba had been fond of tricky schemes, so the fact that he had been beaten by such a scheme stoked the fire of his hatred. He felt like immediately galloping off to Helio and marching into the castle alone.

"Is that the sword that you bombarded Moldorf with strokes from?"

A young voice asked. The boy who was approaching him was Elargon's only son, Rogier. There were several people with him who appeared to be acting as attendants, and it was clear from their expressions that they did not want Rogier going near the likes of a mercenary, but the boy's freckled face was alight with curiosity as he peered at the sword in Orba's hand. He was still only nine years old.

"It's said that Kadyne's Red Dragon is a commander equal to Lasvius. Are you stronger than Lasvius?"

Not even royalty was getting enough nutrition here, his sunken cheeks were slightly smeared with soil, and his eyes alone were shinning.

"Well, I don't know," as it was, Orba couldn't ignore him and placed his sword on the ground. "Besides, I didn't win against Moldorf. Even when I thrust a spear at him from the front, I couldn't hit him at all. And I think I broke a bone breaking through to him in single combat."

"Of course. Moldorf is said to be without peer on horseback," fittingly for a boy from the royal family, he seemed to enjoy stories about battles. Rogier continued with an air of conviction, "it's said that the first thing every country's strategists think of is how to drag Moldorf from his horse. Should they should shoot at him with bullets and arrows, or should they maybe threaten his horse by bringing a large dragon up to it."

"How about giving it an attractive mare?" Shique was so startled at Orba's words that he opened his eyes wide. Orba wasn't teasing, he just didn't care about the conversation. Naturally, the faces of the attendants behind the prince grew grim, however, "If Moldorf's horse forgets the battle and pounces on it, having gotten ready to fight as one with that horse, Moldorf might not be able to adjust his mental state."

"That might be a plan," Rogier was enjoying Orba's unexpected answer, "but an attractive horse... how could humans tell what a horse thinks is beautiful or ugly..."

"A friend of mine has a gift for hearing the 'voice' of dragons. Maybe there's also someone who can evaluate a horse's beauty or ugliness..."

"You talk exactly like royalty or nobility," Lasvius had approached them. Having received only a single glance from him, Orba didn't give any greeting either.

The general's face was in the same state as that of the other soldiers, but even though he was haggard, the physique beneath his armour remained impressive. He was thirty-five years old. Perhaps because he had grown thin, or perhaps because he had a month's worth of hatred and resentment stocked up, his always slanted eyes now seemed to slant even further and his glare had become truly terrifying.

Orba however was perfectly composed,

"It's the opposite. Because I don't know any royals or nobles, I don't understand the proper way to speak. My apologies if I was rude in any way."

"You…"

Even now, Helio's general was fearsome, and those around them held their breath. Then,

"Lasvius," Rogier interposed. He explained Orba's 'clever scheme' and asked whether among the subordinates, there was one who was thoroughly knowledgeable about horses. Lasvius gave a strained smile,

"I will have one searched for. Now then, Your Highness, it's time for your studies. This way, please."

"A bright and cheerful child," commented Shique. "That brightness is very much what is saving those around him. If he lives and retakes Helio, he will probably be a good king."

"Probably."

"Still, that child is more adult-like than you. Seeing you snap at everyone feels just like back in the old days."

"Shut up," Orba looked sullen and turned away.

Naturally, not even he expected to gain anything from being rude towards Lasvius. However, his frustration and hatred were equal to Lasvius' own. When they were escaping in fear of the shadow of their enemies, he had remembered the time in his childhood when he had been forced to flee from his native village.

''Shit!
''
Had he not picked up a sword so that would never happen again, so that nothing more could be taken from him?

''I'll have his head''.

He would not be able to rest until he looked down at Greygun's provoking face, his feet planted on either side of it.

''"Just like back in the old days,"'' just as Shique had pointed out. He was going back to being the lone swordsman who guarded only his own life and dignity with his sword.

=== Part 2 ===

"Move, move!"

Men clad in red armour were walking along the main streets of Helio. Although they weren't being chased away by especially loud voices, the people had almost all disappeared and the Red Hawks mercenaries haughtily swaggered on.

On the day Helio fell, they had been the ones to lay waste to the city. They had gone into every private house hunting for Helio's regular soldiers who were being sheltered there, but their purpose didn't stop there. The soldiers has snatched everything that caught their eye, had dragged young girls into the open alleyways, had killed any man who opposed them and had wrecked entire houses.

And so the people locked their doors and hid so as not the catch the mercenaries' eye. Only one elderly person watched the soldiers from a second-floor window of a merchant's house, but when they saw that the soldiers were pulling old-fashioned cannons in their midst, they drew back from the window, trembling fearfully, tightly clutching their frightened grandchildren.

The Red Hawks mercenaries were headed towards the Dragon Gods temple.

As could be expected, only men who acknowledged Garda as the high priest of the Dragon Gods were awarded positions as leaders and Garda's army had not once attacked a temple or a shrine. But there was a rumour that Helio's soldiers were hidden within it. The previous day, mercenaries from the Red Hawks had intruded in on it to perform a search, but the priests had driven them out, saying,

"Those bearing swords cannot enter. Besides, today a messenger from Garda is here."

Not so long ago, fear of strife with Garda's army would have made the mercenaries withdraw, but now they had an awareness that Helio was theirs. Drinking and rioting until morning had spurred their hatred.

Then one of them started to talk big.

"Garda's army is just a collection of troops from different countries. They can't stand up to us who are united in ruling one country."

"Right, if they fight back, we'll chase them out of the city," an artillery captain named Wadim added fervently.
And so it had turned into a march in which they pulled out guns. Their purpose was of course to flush out Helio's soldiers, but it seemed that the means had already turned into the end. As though to satisfy their childish desire for revenge, they positioned their guns before the temple.

Wadim was himself a Zerdian but through long association with foreigners in the course of his life as a mercenary, his awe and piety towards the Dragon Gods had completely faded away. There had been from the start a great number of ruffians with guilty consciousness among the Red Hawks. As they now ruled a country, their state of mind was naturally that of men who feared not even the gods.

They began ostentatiously heating the iron cannon balls <ref>[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heated_shot Heated] [http://www.hotshotfurnace.com/hotshothistory.html shot] is the practice of heating round shot before firing from muzzle-loading cannons, for the purpose of setting fire to enemy warships, buildings, or equipment.</ref> in front of the temple. It was a declaration of their intention to fire them one by one. Not surprisingly, the priests within the temple turned pale but,

"Please wait."

An unexpected person appeared.

Marilène. Just as for the Zerdian queens of yore, her handmaidens were holding the long, trailing veil that adorned her head. Marilène liked dressing up in this way when she went out during the day. It was a way of showing her own power.

"Well met, our lady queen," Wadim bowed in a fairly courteous manner. However, there was no trace of reverence in the stealthy glance he stole of the queen's sensual figure.

He gave a faint, fleeting sneer,

''A woman who'll switch from one man to another to protect her life and her position''.

It would have been one thing had it have stopped at scorn, but Marilène now drew the people of Helio's hatred even more than she had before. The queen was the only one who had managed to maintain the same political power as before Greygun became king. Most of the soldiers and nobles who had opposed the Red Hawks' insurrection had been killed, and those who were still alive had all been arrested. It was said that they were treated like animals.

''Marilène was the one who ushered in Greygun and Garda's army''.

That rumour was repeated as though it were the truth and it seemed that now, for the people, Marilène was seen as more deserving of their hatred than even Greygun or Garda.

Even Wadim and his ilk referred to her simply as 'the boss' woman'. But for all that, they didn't fear her in the slightest. However,

"Kindly take yourselves away at once," she said slightingly. She gave an aloof tilt of her chin and gazed coldly at Wadim. Her way of talking was exactly as though she were requesting that pebbles be removed from her path as they were obstructing her walk.

Wadim's face turned red.

"I-I do not believe that I will be able to take our lady queen's words into account. King Greygun has ordered that we capture every last one of Helio's soldiers. If you protect those who object to our search, then no matter how much you may be the queen..."

"And what did you mean to say by 'no matter how much I may be the queen'?" Wadim remained silent. Although he was a good head taller than the queen, he felt as though he was being looked down upon from an immensely high place. "I frequently come by here. If the priests and priestesses were sheltering soldiers, I would have noticed. However I have not seen any soldiers here, yourselves excepted."

"B-But..."

At that, the queen brought the back of her hand to her lips and gave a high-pitched laugh.

"But how very excessive of you to come to such a place pulling cannons and wearing full armour. There are none here who carry swords or spears. Who on earth within the Dragon Gods faith could possibly injure you?"

As she said that, Wadim and the others who had come ready and fully armed now felt like they were childishly storming a playground, and the former dignity of their full armour was now nothing but an embarrassment to them.

''Sh-Shit!''

Although no one other than Marilène was laughing, Wadim felt as though the people of Helio were peeping out from every nook and cranny, and that their faces all wore scornful smiles.

"T-This," even so, Wadim gave Marilène his best glare and said, "I have no choice but to report this to the king."

"Do as you please. Now then, have you done with your business? If so, you should leave."

Marilène's expression didn't change in the slightest. Her plump lips still curved into a smile and she entered the temple before Wadim's eyes.

It was not long since the sun had sunk over the horizon.

After she had taken a bath and as her handmaidens were combing out her hair, the clatter of Greygun's violent footsteps was heard approaching Marilène's room. As Marilène had not yet finished getting ready, there was a slight altercation at the door but as there was currently no one who could oppose Greygun, it was roughly flung open.

As Greygun advanced with long strides, it was as though a wild beast had been smuggled into the Court. However,

"Well, my dear lord," Marilène called out with the same cool smile she had shown Wadim. She had called him this since the day of her becoming Greygun's wife had first drawn near. Neither her voice nor her expression were those of a woman who had been toyed with by fate and hurled into cruel misfortune. Instead she gave the impression of having grown used to dealing with men who sought to obtain her.

Perhaps because of that, it stocked the fire of Greygun's anger.

"It seems you got in the soldiers' way," Helio's new king hurled out angrily.

The handmaidens silently shrank back. It was no wonder. What Greygun had done on the day he was proclaimed king was known throughout Helio. At daybreak, he had summoned the captive nobles to his presence and had them swear loyalty to himself.

He beheaded those who refused.

"Disloyal," he had called them.

He also beheaded those who pledged their loyalty.

"Those who easily switch allegiance aren't worthy of trust," he had smiled.

Even his barred teeth were stained with the blood that had spurted from his victims. Tens of corpses rolled at Greygun's feet, and it was said that they had been left where they were during the feast for his coronation.

Marilène had her handmaidens, who had quite lost their voices from fear, withdraw from her room.

"It was the temple that the sorcerer from Garda's army was visiting. If even a single soldier lay concealed there, he would have been noticed immediately and long since been captured. Was that not rather a fool's errand?"

She spoke as though completely indifferent to Greygun's anger. Naturally, Greygun was fully aware of what she had pointed out. Furthermore, if the soldiers had attacked the temple and caused him to incur the displeasure of Garda's army, it would be awkward for him. He was aware that Marilène's actions had safeguarded his own position.

Whispered slander and malicious gossip notwithstanding, Marilène was a queen of noble lineage. To make such a queen his wife, Greygun had worked his utmost to become a 'king', but it was difficult for he who had come from the lowest social layer to rid himself of his inferiority complex. Marilène had understood that and in her outward behaviour towards him, she always raised him up to the standing of a 'king', such as how she had just now called to him 'my dear lord'. And yet, it was irritating. ''It appears that someone like you can't even stop your own soldiers from acting according as they please'' – how long would it be before she openly spoke her scorn?
"This is my country. I will take charge of everything."

"Would you say the same thing to the sorcerer, Garda?"

"What?"

An enigmatic smile broke over Marilène's face. Greygun's eyes blazed.

''Is this vixen reading my thoughts?''

In truth, Greygun had trouble dealing with the sorcerers who called themselves Garda's direct subordinates. These were the men who handed down direct orders to Moldorf and the other officers. No sooner had their forces entered Helio than they demanded a hundred sacrifices. And thus they announced that from here on, once every two days, he would offer up ten young men and women. At first, Greygun had thought it was a joke. If a tiny city-state was to do that, it would very soon perish. But when he received the sorcerers' icy glares from beneath their hoods, it felt like his own body temperature dropped.
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v05 193.jpg|thumb]]

Besides which, it was said that new troops from Eimen would soon be sent to Helio as reinforcements for Garda's army. If their numbers increased, then no matter how much he might call himself 'king', Greygun didn't think that he would be able to control them.

The kingdom that Greygun had finally obtained after being born on a battlefield and having gone through countless battles was already giving off the stench of death and ruin.

Swallowing these various thoughts, Greygun put force into his voice,

"Anyway, don't just act as you please from now on."

"Even so," Marilène laughed in her rich voice, "As there is already a rumour that you, my dear lord, are being henpecked by the queen, your position can't be said that be that of an imposing king..."

Her chin was suddenly jerked upwards and Marilène stopped talking.

Greygun's glaring eyes were right next to hers. And yet, her smile was unperturbed.

The eyes that scorned him were like those of a witch and like those of a young girl's.

After her chin, Greygun seized Marilène's arm and forcibly made her stand, then threw her down on the canopied bed.

Then immediately was on top of her.

"Don't say anything more," he sealed her lips. Holding her down, he wished to waste no time in confirming that Marilène was entirely his. The woman who had three times been queen did not fight him. But Greygun couldn't help but feel her icy, scornful gaze as she allowed him to stroke her skin.

=== Part 3 ===

Bouwen regained consciousness on the fourth day after Orba's group had joined with Lasvius'.

He had wept where he lay when he heard that Duncan and the others had made a stand and prepared to fight to the death in order to allow him to escape.

That very evening, a war council was held in a secluded part of the cavern and for some reason, Orba was summoned to it.

"I heard from Kurun. About how you displayed quick-wits during the retreat from the Coldrins. If you have any scheme for turning things around, speak."

It was something that had long been true for the man called Orba that if there were people that he felt he couldn't stomach, many among those people would also find Orba disagreeable and hateful. Lasvius was another such.
Orba had originally known little about Helio's circumstances. But now anger against Greygun was smouldering in his chest and he advocated gathering the best men and having them infiltrate Helio to kill him.

"Quite the hero," Lasvius sneered, "but if we do as you say and the operation fails, our survival will be suspected and we'll be destroyed. It seems you're a little overrated."

"What?"

Blood rushed to Orba's head and Shique, who had gone with him, had to calm him down.

Naturally Lasvius wasn't simply bidding for time. Via his men who had snuck into the city since before the battle at the Coldrin Hills, he was making arrangements for an uprising to be staged within Helio. Things such as where the captured soldiers were being held and how they were being guarded had been thoroughly investigated, and once they had been rescued, they would aim for Greygun.

But the two thousand of Garda's troops stationed there were a problem. First of all, they would need to move those troops out of Helio.

"When the time comes," Lasvius said while looking sharply at a map of Helio's surroundings, "we will launch a full surprise attack on Helio and we should be able to draw out the enemy."

His subordinates nodded, their faces grim and resolved.

''Ha'', Orba scoffed.

Considering the scale of the enemy numbers, making a surprise attack and luring them out with just three hundred soldiers wasn't worth much. Say they succeeded in retaking Helio, would they be able to defend it against an attack from Garda's army?

Realising that any moment now Orba was going to open his mouth to say something sarcastic, Shique had to struggle to hold him in check.

"Don't be childish," Shique said after the war council was over. The nearby Gilliam shrugged,

"Why say that at this point in time? He's always been a brat."

"No, back when he was prince, he still had a clear head. Whereas the problem with you is that your limbs are just too strong."

"My limbs?"

"You first start by thoughtlessly sorting things out through brute strength. Unless your hands and feet are bound, not once will you use your head to think."

Still seething with anger, Orba ignored them.

"What Lasvius said is reasonable. If we attack Greygun from the shadows at this point, Garda's forces won't care. Regardless of how he got the throne or what he is doing now that he has it, Greygun is currently king. If Helio loses its king again, it will be at the mercy of Garda's army. And if that happens, every last person in the city will be as good as already sacrificed."

"Where are you going, Orba?"

Gilliam asked as Orba suddenly stood up. "Nowhere," he answered and walked out of the cavern. Hunger had made Gilliam irritable. Orba's brusque attitude was about to make him sullenly stand up when,

"Wa-Wait."

"What? You always take his side you bastard, but this time..."

"Didn't you see his face just now? He's thinking of something. At times like these, don't Orba's eyes truly make you shiver?"

Even if he was asked, Gilliam could hardly sympathise. But anyhow, he realised that fighting was a waste of energy and lowered himself back down again.

As for Orba,

"Don't go too far," while acknowledging the warning from the soldier on guard duty, he walked beneath the night sky.

''A king?''

It was as Shique said. If he cut down Greygun who had become king, other than satisfying his current desire for revenge, it would lead to nothing.

''Lead to nothing... For who would it lead to nothing?''

He had lost his position as prince, so for who on earth did he need to hesitate for, he wondered. But Orba now remembered the time when they passed through the gate on the way to fight.

It had been a proud scene for the soldiers, that moment when they were being seen off by the people. But it had had nothing to do with Orba himself. Helio not being his hometown, he had almost no acquaintances there. Still, among all those there, there had been two faces, those of Kay and Niels... Their eyes had been following him until he was out of sight.

''The soldier seen off by his family or lover holds on to that instant as he goes to face death.''

It might have been the same for Roan. Perhaps being seen off by the large crowd of villagers – including Orba himself, their mother and Alice – had made him feel just a little proud. Had he thought to himself that he would protect them?

Orba had stopped walking without realising it and stared up defiantly at the night sky. His anger hadn't cooled down. Quite the opposite, it had reached boiling point. But it wasn't his personal feelings towards Greygun. Greygun had betrayed and killed soldiers who had left with the same expression as Roan had, with the same pride at going to protect their city and families.

Garda was plunging the entire west into fear. Following the same path as Alice and his mother, the people were merely being toyed with by power and violence.

He could now understand why he had flared up in anger when Shique had informed him about Helio's current situation.

It hadn't only been anger against Greygun. More than anything, Orba was angry at himself.

Why hadn't he been able to see through Greygun's betrayal? He should have foreseen that there might have been a trap. If he had been able to show that it was through definite words or actions, something like that might not have happened.

Ever since defeating Oubary, he had been listless about everything and that Helio - that Kay and Niels might have landed in a fix because of it was something that he had regretted without realising it.

''Tsk.''

Naturally he didn't believe that he could have turned around that battle at the Coldrins simply through his own conclusions.

He had experience of a number of battlegrounds. That Helio had been forced to rely on a man like Greygun, that Garda's mysterious army was being allowed to run rampant meant that darkness had taken root in the very world of western Tauran.

''Betrayal and strife.''

As the west was now, that chain continued on. Although those from the same origin were gathered here, all they did was fight in this wide land.

''Tauran has no king.''

Ax Bazgan insisted that he himself was by blood the successor to the former Zer Tauran. But it was not thought that Taúlia currently had the strength needed to unify the whole land. And so the various powers all believed that they had a chance of becoming king and continued to fight. The mysterious Garda had taken advantage of that...

"Yeah."

Unexpectedly hearing someone speak, Orba strained his ears. It seemed that the soldiers who had gone out to keep watch were on their way back. So as not to be disturbed while he was thinking, he concealed himself off to one side.

Orba hadn't intended to listen in on their conversation, but as he heard it, he went pale under his mask.

It appeared that Lasvius’ group had summoned those from within the nomadic herders who conducted transactions with the outside for the next day and where intending to exchange weapons and food. But in order to prevent their identities and hiding place from leaking out, Lasvius planned to attack them once they had received the food.

The pride of dragoons is great indeed, Orba snickered beneath his mask. Lasvius was someone he couldn't stomach and now that his intuition had been vindicated, he could loathe him to his heart’s content.

Orba blinked suddenly and started to indulge in a different thought.

Orba could feel something welling up within him. It no longer had anything to do with his personal feelings for Lasvius.

It wasn't a change that he himself was conscious of, but as he looked up at the sky, Orba's eyes were the same as when he had worn the 'mask' of Gil Mephius.

Late that night.

News had reached Lasvius from an ally who was keeping watch on Helio. It was not good news.

"Reinforcements for Garda's forces?"

The report stated that reinforcements a thousand strong would soon arrive from Eimen. They were just waiting for a further five hundred rear-guard troops to arrive at Eimen. According to estimates, it would be in about a week's time.

''One thousand in reinforcements''.

They had probably brought them to invade Taúlia. Even though he guessed that there would be more opportunities for moving his unit than during the deadlock, the increased numbers would no doubt also mean tighter defences in Helio.

Feeling increasingly driven into a corner, Lasvius ground his teeth.

In Taúlia was southeast of Helio. News of the defeat at the Coldrin Hills and of the fall of Helio had of course reached there as well.

"Father !" Upon hearing of it, Esmena had come flying out of the chambers in which she had locked herself and was clinging to her father Ax. "Is Bouwen... What happened to Bouwen?"

"He's not the kind of man to kick the bucket that easily. Now calm down in case those attacks of yours flare up again."

Despite his remonstrations to his daughter, Ax Bazgan's own thoughts were anything but calm.

''Damn Cherik, joining forces with that sorcerer''.

At about the halfway point between Taúlia and Cherik, an encampment of seven hundred of the latter's army stretched out. As they were right at their border, they couldn't make any careless moves.

"If it comes to that, it will be a short and decisive battle. Can we tear all the way to Cherik in one go?"

"We could do that, however..." Ravan Dol had not relaxed his cautious stance. Indeed, it was because he had foreseen the possibility of Cherik joining forces with Garda that he had until now being urging his lord to act prudently. "If the enemy withdraws into the town and holds siege, unless we have our entire army, it will cost us time. Taúlia would be completely empty and if Garda's army make their move from Helio at that time, it will fall."

"Don't answer so seriously and do you take me for a fool? I was just caught up in the mood."

"Hmm, no wonder since it's you, my lord."

''And here I thought that he'd actually had a good idea...'' He added the second half in an inaudible voice.

"What?" Ax said irritably. Without his war fan, he was unable to calm down. "If you want to say something, say it. I hear you've sent out a number of spies so do you have a plan? At this rate, we're going to be encircled by every power in Tauran."

"Leave it to me. My lord, you most uphold appearances and calmly remain the lord that the people and soldiers rely on."

"Remain calm," said Ax, half in despair. It was of course not in his nature to helplessly wait for ruin. Be it soldiers, dragons or bullets, his preparations were flawless and he had purchased a large new air carrier equipped for handling major combat. Although their existence hadn't been made public, he had hired a number of people skilled at handling ships. When the time came, he would have soldiers loaded into the new ship to attack the enemy from behind.

Taúlia was tense with the strain of constantly wondering if war was finally at hand.

"They weren't able to finish Bouwen off?"

A man asked upon hearing that there were no reports from the battlefield about that one person.

Raswan Bazgan.

"Well, fine. All he can do now is a die a dog's death in the wilds he escaped to. All according to plan. Next is to not make any mistakes with the preparations here," he muttered, turning his dark eyes to what was outside the window.

Several years ago, there had been a skirmish with a clan of nomads living in Taúlia and, without his uncle's permission, he had captured and slaughtered about thirty of them within their own territory. Raswan had been in command during that fight, but as his numerous services had otherwise been distinguished, Ax had given him a severe reprimand then forgotten all about it. Despite the appearance of merit, there were no women within the castle to lavish praise on him as his dark eyes seemed to say that he had not carried that massacre out against his will but had done so calmly, on a whim.

And so, while the matter of the candidates to be Taúlia's next successor had yet to be settled, there were very few voices raised in favour of Raswan.

"Our numbers are increasing. Next will be our turn. Whatever you do, don't make any mistakes."

"No."

The voice that responded to Raswan’s mutter was like the threatening hiss of a snake.

=== Part 4 ===

''It's unavoidable'', Lasvius was filled with a grim determination, ''when they clash with Taúlia, that's when we'll make our move''.

A repeat of the Coldrins was not something he felt he could accept. That time, he wasn't intending to move before receiving detailed reports of the battle situation. And as a result, Greygun's insurrection had occurred and they missed their chance. Although certainly, as Lasvius had not seen through the situation, had they have moved recklessly, there was the fear that they would have been annihilated.

''Better that than to wait until it is too late and be driven into a corner from which we can't escape. Better to fight and risk death than to die slowly, starved and weakened''.

Lasvius was not loath to die if it were for a just cause. But to starve with their bones exposed to nothing but depressing cliff walls on all sides was not to be contemplated.

''We might as well die leaving our names behind''.

That would be the best for defeated soldiers. Lasvius smoothly stroked his skin. Even in this situation, he still conscientiously shaved every day using a knife. Not because he was fastidious. Not only his slanted eyes but his facial features were strangely sharp. His face was slender and his nose and lips were thin, giving it an angular impression. Lasvius hated that his face tended to look feminine. Therefore in the past, he had grown an impressive beard and flaunted his masculinity. Shaving it off had been a sort of vow to himself. Until Rogier was placed upon the throne of Helio, he would endure the disgrace and shave his beard.

''Even under pain of death, I will not break this oath'', Lasvius had been bent on that thought as he had shaved that morning.

Now, when he was finally ready to discuss his resolve with his men, he received a strange report. The group who had left early in the morning to trade with the nomads had returned but had not been able to attack them as Orba had his forced his way into coming along.

"You damn fools," Lasvius eyes narrowed still further as he yelled, "you should have just killed him if he was getting in the way!"

"N-No, that..." Sweat appeared on the soldiers’ brows as they justified themselves. Ostensibly, Orba and the others hadn't done anything and had simply accompanied them to watch. "He brought Lord Rogier with him, we couldn't kill the nomads in front of the prince!"

Whatever his intention had been, Orba had apparently placed the prince onto a horse. And afterwards he had been in deep conversation with the nomads about something.

"What were Lord Rogier's attendants doing! If they're not careful, the prince might be kidnapped by the mercenaries!"
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v05 207.jpg|thumb]]

"We wouldn’t' do that."

That voice seemed to reverberate throughout the cave and when he turned around, there was the masked man. For a moment, Lasvius seemed about to give in to emotion but held himself in check.

"We are not a bunch of self-serving mercenaries who only act to suit themselves. I'd appreciate it if you would refrain from behaviour that disrupts discipline."

"How long can you maintain discipline like that," Orba said, completely unconcerned by Lasvius' scowl. "If you order your men to attack treacherously, their mood will just keep getting uglier."

"What!" This time Lasvius shouted in rage. Then his expression was wiped away and he seemed to gulp. Orba completely changed the subject.

"So it seems that reinforcements from Garda's side will be heading to Helio."

"So what? Do you still think that you can march into Helio and strike Greygun down?"

"No," Orba glanced at Lasvius through his mask then looked at the nearby soldiers around whom a dangerous mood was starting to cling. "Call a council of war," he said. Lasvius and the others looked disappointed. "I'll be taking part as the representative for the Taúlian general, Bouwen Tedos. Sir Bouwen has of course given a blood seal."

The place used for the council of war was inside the caves. There were only a few cracks in the roof through which narrow beams of daylight poured down. The various platoon leaders scattered around the base of the mountain, not to mention Lasvius and his close aides, were gathered there. Accordingly, Lasvius started out by talking about his intentions. He had not needed Orba to tell him to summon a council of war as he had from the start intended to do so and to convey his resolution to his men.

The commanders of the small cavalry units shed tears. One day, they would kill the usurper king Jallah and triumphantly return to Helio with Rogier as king - with nothing but that ideal to hold on to, those warriors had been able to endure to their circumstances and surroundings. And then suddenly, Jallah had died and a scoundrel like Greygun had claimed the title of king of Helio and had opened the gates to usher in Garda's army.

This matter was no longer Helio's problem alone. In a week's time, the country would be filled with twice, three times the number of soldiers now stationed in Helio and they would commence their march on Taúlia.

"This is our last chance," said Lasvius, trying to hide the quiver in his voice. "While the enemy is fighting Taúlia, our soldiers on the inside will rise up as one and occupy Helio."

Everyone there listened, deeply impressed by Lasvius' declaration then, one by one, they rose from their seats.

"Let's go."

"We will fight this holy crusade together."

In that moment, the iron bonds that tied Lasvius' unit together stood firm. Emotions that he could not suppress welled within him and, with ardent eyes, he was clasping each in turn by the hand when,

"As expected," one person poured cold water over the proceedings. Orba, the only one still sitting, nodded. "You have resolve."

''Humph''.

Lasvius felt disdainful of Orba. It seemed to him that despite his earlier stance that "If you order your men to attack treacherously, their mood will just keep getting uglier," he would not be able to do otherwise than to recognise their solidarity. Looking convinced, Orba however said something strange.

"It's just as General Bouwen said."

"Sir Bouwen? What do you mean?"

"The general said that Sir Lasvius had whispered a secret plan to him to turn the situation around. He said that before opening your heart to your men however, you would first test the soldiers' resolve. Indeed. As you have three hundred patriots resolute unto death, your secret plan is sure to bear results."

"A secret plan?"

"Sir, is this true?"

Lasvius couldn't rein in his subordinates as they all spoke in unison. And he himself had no idea what this was about.

Orba continued on serenely,

"A moment ago, Sir Lasvius said that he would wait for the enemy reinforcements and move once they had started attacking Taúlia, but in practice, that would be tantamount to your soldiers dying in vain. That Garda's forces will swell means that the garrison at Helio will increase."

"W-What do you mean, 'dying in vain'?"

They looked as though cold water had been dashed on their desperate resolve and one of the captains went red in the face. Something similar could be said of Lasvius too, but in his case,

''It can't be that he is''...

He felt a violent trepidation. Could it be that he was planning to divulge his own plan by pretending that it had been thought up by the commander of the unit, Lasvius himself?

"It's fine, Orba. Continue."

Lasvius brought his agitated men under control. A part of him was also thinking that this was interesting. Lasvius couldn't stand Orba but mingled within him was also the thought that he was somehow different from others. And so, by way of experiment, he intended to let him speak. If what he said was ridiculous, he could always laugh and brush it aside.

Orba nodded once then,

"...At any rate, in this fight, you have to take care of things before Garda's reinforcements arrive. Attract the attention of the enemies currently within Helio towards the outside and use that chance to have the soldiers within the city rise to action."

''What?''

Lasvius' disappointment came from the fact that this was a plan anyone could come up with. In fact, one of his men burst out laughing.

"With our numbers, not even the most drastic measures would be enough to draw the enemy outside. And the same holds true for there being an opportunity in which they would leave Helio. Bastard, you were lying about this plan of the commander's, weren't..."

"It's not about our numbers. Because we won't be moving Garda's forces, Taúlia will."

"What?"

"If Taúlia pushes through to the front lines, given their impressive numbers, the enemy will have to consider making their own move. Will they launch a counter-offensive through the gate or will they rely on their support, close the gate and fight a defensive war? In the former case, your soldiers within Helio will find it easy to move around, and in the latter case, if those inside light fires to provoke chaos, it will be easy for Taúlia to invade."

"Absurd. As long as Garda's forces don't move, Taúlia won't either. Cherik has struck up camp to threaten them."

"They will move," Orba asserted, "if we convey this plan to them. Without a doubt. Compared to Garda, Cherik is an insignificant force. If it becomes clear that Taúlia is serious in attacking Garda's army, then they'll be scared of being next. By remaining near Taúlia, Cherik is instead growing arrogant."

''I see''...

In front of his subordinates, who were agitatedly exchanging looks, Lasvius folded his arms. Orba's plan was certainly forcible, and a single miscalculation would render the chances of success extremely low. But Lasvius had from the start been preparing himself for a desperate fight.

''This guy... interesting''.

It wasn't a plan worked out through minute calculations and was somewhat crude, but as a military man, it set his blood coursing.

"Here," Orba placed a sheathed dagger and a letter on the damp ground, "this is a dagger proving Sir Bouwen's position and a letter in his own handwriting. We can send this to Taúlia to urge them to go to take to the battlefield."

"B-But," a cavalry captain interposed. His face showed his confusion. He was starting to wonder if it might not really be a plan from his commander, Lasvius. "The road to Taúlia is blockaded. The mountain fortress that Helio holds here in the Belgana summits which is along the way to Taúlia has been turned into a temporary checkpoint. Even if we send a messenger, it will be impossible for him to avoid getting noticed."

"It will be easy to get through the checkpoint by pretending to be an ordinary civilian. In this situation, the enemy will be more vigilant against Zerdians."

"Are you saying that you'll go?"

Realising Orba's intention, the various commanders showed disapproval. He was not a comrade tied to them with bonds of steel and they didn't trust the outsiders that were the mercenaries.

Since earlier, Orba's detached tone had remained completely unshaken.

"I'll become a hostage and stay here. The journey to Taúlia should take about three days, I think, so if there is no movement after those three days, you can do whatever you want with me."

"But,"

"Fine," the one who spoke was Lasvius. He stood up in front of the commanders who swallowed back their words. "I intend to bet on that plan. How about everyone else? You are the self-same warriors who were willing to challenge death just a while ago. If you object to this, I will think of you neither as cowards nor as traitors. Say what is on your mind."

With him having said so, it was difficult for them to show opposition. Therefore, they agreed to wait three days.
Having left the council of war, Orba went ahead along the winding path.

"I can't stand you," his shoulder was clapped from behind. It was Lasvius. "Everything is going the way you want, so are you satisfied?"

"Well."

"I wouldn't be surprised to learn that there's someone famous beneath that mask of yours. But as I said earlier, this is a bet. A bet using your life as security."

"I'm used to it."

The answer and the tone of voice used were so provoking that Lasvius gave a low laugh instead. Up until now, he truly hadn't been able to stomach him, but now he felt entirely comfortable.

"Let's see how things go. A battle in which we face nothing but death has become just a little more interesting."

''That's a military man for you'', Lasvius' way of speaking got on Orba's nerves. That he couldn't stand him was because, be it his convictions or his pride as a soldier, he closely resembled a man who had been the embodiment of chivalry and that Orba had once faced off against at Zaim Fortress.

''That man even pointed a sword at his lord's daughter for the sake of his beliefs. And this guy too, to recover Helio, he was willing to murder nomads who had nothing to do with anything. That might be a splendid attitude, but from an outsider's perspective, it's sickening''.

Even though he thought so, or rather, because Lasvius was a soldier, Orba also thought to place trust in him. In short, because Lasvius himself had relaxed his ill will towards him, Orba calculated that it would be advantageous to do the same.

<noinclude>

===References and Translation Notes===
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| Back to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume5_Chapter4|Chapter 4]]
| Return to [[Rakuin no Monshou|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Rakuin no Monshou:Volume5_Chapter6|Chapter 6]]
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</noinclude>

Rakuin no Monshou:Volume3 Chapter7

2017-06-02T16:31:03Z

183.83.92.110: /* Part 3 */

==Chapter 7: Sword’s Engraving==
===Part 1===
“You expect me to go along with such a farce?”

Ax Bazgan expressed his disapproval.

It was only the following day after he marched his army to attack them and became a defeated general, and yet he still responded arrogantly to the prince’s summons at the breakfast table. Of course, he must have suffered a great shock, but it was likely the pride of the Bazgan House that compelled him to proudly attend the meal, by not only drinking the wine but praising Princess Vileena who was seated together with them and additionally admitting to Gil’s cunning.

But as this was Gil Mephius’ invitation, Ax had refrained himself from a third helping of wine and scowled at Gil.

“I, who attacked Apta came across you at the top of the fortress, and as we fought we acknowledged each other and bravely came to an agreement not to shed any more unnecessary blood--? Sure, that might save me face, but who would believe a made-up lie like that?”

“That’s right, no one will believe it.”

“What?”

“But what’s most important is you carry out that stance. Even if it’s an obvious lie, if you firmly stick to it, you can make them think that it might actually be the truth.”

“Are you serious?”

Ax looked to his side at him incredulously. Gil--Orba gave a light smile and after giving a side glance to Vileena,

“One of my old acquaintances once said, that ‘Even if your wife finds you sleeping naked together with another woman, it does not mean you are having an affair.’”

“Ha?”

This time, both Ax and Vileena raised their voices.

“Use whatever excuse you will. You can say the woman broke out in a fever and you were warming her up because she was cold, or say she is your separated sister and how you used to often sleep together like that when you were young.”

“''Who'' would believe that?“

Even Vileena joined in objection.

“Like I was saying, no one would believe it. But if he gave up there and admitted to his infidelity, that would be the end of it. If he decides to take all the blame, then the wife will most likely stop listening to what he has to say from there on. That’s why, even if it’s a lie, even if it’s rubbish, you go through with your excuse to the end. You do it seriously, time and time again. If he gets his partner to even consider that he might be telling the truth, then it’s his win. It’s a wide difference from letting it be known it’s a lie.”

“And what kind of win would that be?”

Ignoring Vileena’s sullen remark, Orba proposed the offer to Ax again.

“What do you say? It will protect both our honour.”

“Our long years of hostility won’t quiet from that.”

Ax could guess what Orba meant by ‘both our honour’. But he fully knew letting it visually show that special consideration was being given to him was also poor etiquette.

“Very well. No matter how arduous the path, it won’t start without taking that first step.”

“It’s decided,” Orba clapped his hands. “Then settling this quickly will be best. We will return all your captured men. Lord Ax, you should also ready your preparations.”

“Preparations...Well, what preparations would they be?”

“To do it now—would be impossible. Then, tomorrow you should board your air carrier with your commanding officers and head for Taulia. We will exchange our pledges to the alliance there.”

“W-wait, Lord Gil. Aren’t you rushing this a bit? I’m sure this alliance runs opposite Emperor Guhl’s intention?”

Vileena jolted to a start and carefully watched Gil. But Gil cooly replied,

“It’s not a problem to make out of at this point. Now, you should hurry, Lord Ax. I also have to ready my preparations immediately.”

The repair of the fortress was underway, but as expected the damages were severe. There were of course, the doors, walls and batteries, and then the heart of the fortress that functioned as Orba’s living quarters was now entirely unusable. They now resided in the eastern wing of the barracks. They had managed to somehow restore it back to its shape, though it was likely only halfway done. On the other hand, it was because an alliance could be gained from this that Gil had wagered his own fortress.

To say it in other words, in the current situation where Apta could not perform its role as a fortress and Taulia effectively being Mephius’ western line of defense, if another western force were to attack Ax, Gil would not be able to send reinforcements.

Ax also understood this situation and so, gave no further protest.

And as it happened, Gil and Ax advanced through the main streets of Taulia side-by-side on horseback the next day.

They had boarded the same ship and crossed the Yunos River together, and waved hands besides another as they entered the Taulia gates and received the people’s cheers.

It was a historical moment for the Bazgans and Mephian imperials who crossed swords since two hundred years past.

Ax Bazgan was a fine actor. He responded brightly to the cheers raining down on him with a lie of some oath he had engraved on the prince’s body in battle as if he wished this from the start.

Ax always regarded Mephius as a long-time enemy. The number of subjects that held suspicions over his sudden change of heart did not stop at ten or twenty, of course. However, they all understood that with the current threat of the new mysterious growing power threatening the western nations, any further dispute with Mephius was not a good idea. And with Mephius as their ally, many hoped they would earn the Mephians’ cooperation and instead be able to defeat this ‘Garda’. Orba looked out at the Taulian landscape strewn with its giant watchtowers, and then donned the mask of the smiling prince once more and continued waving.

That night, a feast celebrating the establishment of the alliance was held in the Taulian palace.

Given the abruptness, the Taulians were unable to prepare anything too elaborate, but they still arranged an abundance of the finest food and drinks they could.

Orba was exchanging greetings with Taulia’s chief vassals as he watched the scantily clothed dancers, a staple local attraction of Tauran, dance to the uplifting tune of the flutes, when the elderly strategist Ravan Dol called out to him.

“I am inspired by your brilliant display of ability in battle.”

“No no, it amounted to a simple parlor trick,” Orba showed his white teeth. “It’s been long said that clever schemes are cheap schemes. They aren’t meant to be used multiple times. I’m still in the middle of learning the art of war as you can see. I would like to one day also receive your tutelage, Ravan-dono.”

“Haha. I am a man whose single redeeming feature lies in raising dragons. Things like the workings of battle much less, is nothing more than a side. Speaking of which, your highness, the dragons you employed appeared thoroughly trained. Possibly, more so than the dragons I’ve raised. I found ''that'' much more devastating than having suffered a defeat in battle. Do you perhaps, have a skilled dragon tamer following you?”

“A Zerdian, a somewhat unusual one, you could say. I wanted to bring her with me, but she seems engrossed in taking care of the new breed of Yunions we received from you.”

“A Zerdian…hmm,” Ravan said, tilting his head. “Then could I have seen wrongly? That was—”

“Your highness,” a lively voice came. Turning around, he found General Bouwen dressed in military uniform and sash. At his side, he was accompanied by a single girl.

“Is it true you will be departing tomorrow? Quickly coming and quickly going, aren’t you. I would have loved to talk all about the battle this occasion should you have had the time.”

His eyes were resolute and Orba could feel a determination in them that next time, he would be the one to seize victory. Not to mention, he bore a smile on his young face without a trace of grief over the loss of his men or their bitter defeat. The Tauran soldiers, it seemed, held an honest disposition. So much so that the likes of Orba felt he would get along with them much better than with Mephian nobles.

“That time will come again. I also would like to set foot in Taulia another time.” Orba received a glass of wine of Bouwen and then asked, “This lady would be?”

“She is the daughter of Lord Ax, Lady Esmena.”

“I-I am Esmena Bazgan. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

The woman lowered her flaxen hair and made a bow. ''Ho—.'' Orba made an internal appraisal at her beauty. She was taller than Vileena and Ineli, though her face was still young, and also there was something about her gaze that made it look like she was dreaming. It gave a feeling of a tranquil warmth completely free of the world’s hardships or malice, and pure of suffering and destitution.
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v03_279.jpg|thumb]]

Seeing her stand beside Bouwen, they looked just like a couple of similar age and height. And speaking of which, Orba spoke out,

“If I‘m correct, I believe that you are engaged to Sir Bouwen.”

“Yes,” Bouwen replied bashfully.

Esmena sharply cut in, “No, that is simply a rumour.”

She ignored Bouwen who had seemingly received a shock and then stepped forward. As if it had been an illusion, her adult-like expression tensed and she directly faced him with crimson cheeks,

“What Bouwen just mentioned before is not wrong, is it? I will get a chance to meet you again, won’t I? No, I am sure we will meet again. I, Esmena Bazgan, shall be going to visit you in the near future after all.”

''Th-This is...''

She was different from all the women Orba had met until now. She was not like Hou Ran or Ineli, and of course, neither was she like Vileena Owell. He had heard she was nineteen; three years older than Orba.

''Alice would, now that I think about it, be about the same age.''

That thought suddenly crossed him. There was nothing about Esmena that resembled her, but that one common aspect inadvertently gave Orba a sense of intimacy. It might even have made him sentimental. Orba, who looked at Esmena in a new light, and Esmena whose face turned red as a beet but did not run.

—Ax, watching this from the hall entrance, beckoned Ravan closer.

“What do you make of that?”

He asked while proposing toasts.

“What of it?”

“Esmena, just a while ago, came to speak directly with me. She said to me, ‘With the prince having come to attend in person from their end, we should also send an envoy of peace over to Apta.’ She insisted the person to bear the role be herself. I had wondered why the well-behaved Esmena would propose something like that, but it can’t be...”

“The young bring about behaviour and consequences that we, who have lost that youth to time, may find hard to comprehend.”

“It’s supposed to be the first those those two are meeting, you know.”

“Who knows. It has been quite a time since I have lost my youth.”

Ax gave a grunt.

“I’ve decided to help Mephius in order to unify Tauran. Though they may be our lifelong enemies, we may as well make the most of it having decided on this. However, that prince Gil has himself a betrothed. Presenting Esmena as first wife is one thing, but as a concubine I’m not too sure.”

“For one who calls the prince impulsive, you are plenty rash yourself, my lord.”

“Say what you want. I’m not a man who gets trapped forever by old traditions.”

“Hahaha.”

Ax ignored the old strategists sarcastic prattle.

“It would be better if we could at least receive an imperial lady fit for our Bouwen or my nephew Raswan. That way, we won’t be seen as the underdog of this alliance.”

“If you are suggesting an unmarried imperial woman, then there is the imperial princess, Ineli Mephius. Though it is a result of marriage, she is still the emperor’s daughter.”

“All right. Then let’s have them start working on it in Mephius through their connections.”

“However,” the old strategist Ravan warned, “all of that is so that we can obtain a force greater than our current Taulia. We should expect an even greater battle in our quest to unite Tauran. Do not forget that.”

“And I expect an even greater performance from you also. Defeat Garda and show me a victory that can completely wipe away the two-fold humiliation we received from Mephius,” the lord gave as a little revenge.

Ravan Dol made a grimace but immediately straightened his face and nodded. They shared an odd relationship as vassal and lord.

Soon enough night gave way to day and Orba departed Taulia just before noon. He had hardly gotten any time to rest since he had came to Apta. But Orba felt no fatigue at all. Instead his body and mind were light and he even felt he could still continue on working himself to the bone.

He also had a mountain of things to do once he returned to Apta. He needed to send a messenger to Noue and establish a time and place for a meeting, and of course finish preparations for battle. And it was around time that he wanted to learn of Solon’s reaction over the alliance he formed with Taulia.

As he said before, Orba had already sent a messenger to Solon to tell how, with Garbera’s reinforcements, they were able to desperately defend Apta. If that heightened gratitude towards Garbera and the want to send reinforcements, that was all he needed.

''That’s where I can expect movement from Fedom and his men.''

Fedom Aulin, naturally, was bound to express anger at Orba’s arbitrary actions, but at the same time he would surely come to Gil Mephius’ defence. He had been frequently keeping in touch with the anti-imperial faction, so they might gather in numbers and support him. Then there was the existence of Simon Rodloom, who most likely commanded the greatest trust amongst the nobles and imperials. And he, as Orba had seen, was a heavily dutiful man.

Within the territory of Apta, there still remained the problem of the bandits. Since his previous inspection, Orba had the former slaves sneak into the surrounding villages to find clues for the bandit’s base. If it came to it, Orba could always use a ship loaded with food and goods as bait to lure them out, so Orba wasn’t in too big a hurry to deal with them.

Lastly, was the problem of their military force.

In the battle this time, they had suffered less than half the casualties of Taulia who had lost over 100 men, but over 50 of the sword slaves wished to withdraw from the infantry. Of course, he had no intentions of straying from his promise of granting them their freedom.

''Should i try recruiting soldiers from Apta and Birac?''

When he would lead his men as reinforcements for Garbera, he would need to gather more than a good amount of soldiers. As for the recruitment of soldiers in Birac, he planned to ask for Zaj Hamann’s cooperation.

The various problems he harboured were a mountain full, but Orba found them to be worth handling and his eyes brimmed with energy. It did not compare to his days as a boy where he had to drink dirty water off the ground. It also didn’t compare to his life as a gladiator, forced into a fight to the death. The snot-nosed Orba who would pick up a wooden sword in Drought Valley and do nothing but get into fights was right now finally doing something of his own will and accomplishing it by his own strength!

“Oh? That’s quite a happy face you’re making, your highness.”

Shique said grinningly onboard the Dhum bridge.

“It happened I became acquainted with Ax’s daughter at Taulia,” Orba remarked sarcastically.

“I-I don’t believe this..”

“It’s great that you get to make Princess Ineli and these princesses cry, but I’ll be troubled if you forget your true commitment.”

For his joking tone, Shique’s eyes were painfully sharp. He was a slippery man with an easygoing attitude, but when things came to Vileena there were times he turned unrelenting.

“As if I could forget. You should also brace yourself. We’ll be headed to battle soon.”

“Wait, hold on,” Shique renewed his attitude and spoke in a whisper that could not be heard by others, “You might be fine with that, but the soldiers are tired. You should give them time to rest.”

''Ahh, two or three days should be fine. That’s enough to get plenty of rest.''

Shique expression finally turned to amazement. Orba gave a sideways glance at him and then faced forward. The lush, open sea reflected in the window in front of him. Just as that openness seemed to run on forever, he felt he could also fly on forever.

===Part 2===
Around that time, a pile of materials stacked near the dragons’ stables where repairs were underway. As far as the eye could see, there wasn’t any part of the fortress not damaged, but even amongst them the priority of the restoration of the stables was high. Of course, they were being mindful to the dragons’ condition. They locked the dragons in the cages they used for transport on the way and managed to calm them for the time being, but there was no telling when they might destroy the cages in a fit of aggravation and run away or break into a fight amongst themselves. That would result in unnecessary damage and casualties.

Even then, having Hou Ran alone was enough to make the situation considerably brighter. She would occasionally bring the large dragons along to the parade ground and have them move around, and the medium and small-sized dragons would participate in the dragoons’ training under her supervision as they currently were, so it didn’t seem very likely the dragons would build up any stress.

That day, as Krau gripped her head in pain from a hangover and drew water from a well near the dragon stables, she nearly dropped the ladle in mute amazement when she came across the sight.

Inside the cage, amidst the dragons’ clamouring stood Hou Ran. Curious as to what she was doing, Krau saw her holding a long brush also used for cleaning the decks scrubbing the dragons’ bodies. Outside the cage, a group of men stood nervously, and occasionally acted on Ran’s instructions and emptied a bucket of water inside.

“Stop, stop, what do you think you’re doing?!”

Krau ran towards her, forgetting all about her hangover. She was convinced that someone had offhandedly made a slave do this as entertainment.

“The dragons are happy when I do this for them.”

She was rather calm.

And in fact, each time Ran brushed against them, the dragons would groan facing their backs to her in a way that let her easily groom them, and wag their tails up and down.

“If I’ll be!” Krau exclaimed in wonder, but that wasn’t all she had to say. “Don’t tell me that you’re actually bad at getting these things. What about you go ask the master for an easier job?”

“An easy job. As in?”

“You’re young and pretty, ya see. All ya gotta do is stay beside him and smile. I also did that and got away from all the painful work when I was young. It doesn’t matter what your status is, cause men are simply creatures you see. Just whisper love into his ears and pull back a little shyly. And if you add on something like ‘I know our statuses are different, but even then I can’t hold back this feeling’, then that’ll be perfect.”

The surrounding soldiers at that moment were startled not by Krau’s flirtful voice but by Ran who broke into a giggle, possibly more startled than when they saw her up close to the dragons.

“I’ll teach you how to sing and dance. And then I’ll teach you the types of topics that catch a man’s interest.”

“It seems harder than taking care of these dragons.”

“It’s simple to learn. At least you won’t have to worry about being teared to shreds by a dragon’s claws or fangs. Hurry and get out. It’s dangerous! I can’t bear to watch.”

“Maybe one day, I’ll have you teach me.”

Ran stroked her brush against the side of a Baian, when another dragon pushed its back onto her insisting on its turn, and she turned around gently caressing its neck.

Having made his way back to Apta, Orba was first about to make his way to his private room, now resituated in the barracks, and finish up his work, but before he had, he suddenly remembered something.

After checking that no one was around, he reached towards his chest. Hanging there was a still somewhat disfigured medal. It weighed on his mind the entire time, but following the hectic amount of work he had the past few days, he had ended up entirely forgetting about it.

And so, Orba decided to pay a visit to the blacksmith alone. Midway, along a garden near the gates leading to the keep, he spotted the back of a single old man. Orba stopped. It was one of the blacksmiths he had seen when he performed an inspection of the fortress.

His name was Sodan, a man with disheveled hair. From his appearance he seemed quite old, but according to him he had yet to reach his sixties. Orba called his name and walked towards him. Sodan turned around. His eyes were more heavy than sharp enough to warrant him a man who could not properly hold a conversation, yet for the situation at hand he paid the proper respects to the prince.

“Is there something you need from me?”

Orba handed him the medal and made his request. Sodan readily agreed to undertake it, so Orba was about to take his leave when his eyes suddenly stopped on the numerous swords buried into the ground. It also caught his interest the last time he noticed them.

Sodan was, as it seemed, picking up the scattered swords that had fallen out of place and returning them to their original positions. Curious, Orba decided to approach him to ask.

“These are gravestones,” Sodan said.

“Gravestones?”

“These are all swords I’ve smithed. The names of dead soldiers are engraved on their blades. Though it isn’t like I’ve remembered all of them. I only engraved the names of the dead whose faces I’ve seen and remembered.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ahh, I seem to have been too short-spoken. These are the graves of soldiers who perished in Apta, is what I mean. I’ve spent the majority of my life here you see, and quite a few of those I know have died. Someone as great as the prince may not understand, but those who died in battle are all cremated together and don’t have their own graves. So I at least crave the names of those I remember and engrave their souls into the swords. But too many lives were claimed in the battle when the fortress was taken by Garbera, and the numbers here are only a fraction of them.”

''I see,'' he said under his breath. Orba gazed at the numerous swords. Names were as he said, carved on the blades. Millan, Ceed, Raphael, Angas...Orba chased after the names of these people whose faces and history Orba did not know and held no significance to him when he suddenly realized. There was something familiar about them. It wasn’t the names. There was a certain style to the engraved letters, something to it that Orba recognized all too well.

Orba quickly called out to Sodan, who had finished returning the swords to their original positions and was about to excuse himself.

“You said that a-all of the swords here were made by you.”

“Yes. What of it?”

“Do you remember ''this''?”

As if he couldn’t stand to waste a single second, Orba quickly removed the sword fixed on his belt. A shortsword sixty centimetres long. On it were engraved letters. It was his own name, ‘Orba’.

“Ho,” Sodan frowned. “That is unmistakably something I made. However, that is surely something unfitting to be carried by the great crown prince. Did you take it out from here? No, there shouldn’t have been a sword I made that size as a gravestone.”

“...I was entrusted it by a certain man. Do you remember? There should have been a man who asked you to make this for him. Could you teach me where that man went, or how he is doing in Apta?”

Without realizing it, Orba approached closer to Sodan.

With the force he approached him and that sword in his hand, it would probably seem like Orba was trying to stab the old man.

Sodan however, did not cower at all.

“I can’t say,” Sodan said thinking. “I have forged a countless number of pieces of equipment after all. They are all to me like how a child is with its toys. I can tell if it is mine and when I made it from looking at the sword’s characteristics, but I do not remember as far as each and every person I gave the swords to.”

As he said this, he reached his hand out to the sword. Orba's chest tightened, but he handed over the sword with a pained expression. Sodan narrowed his eyes and carefully examined the sword from every angle.

“The sword isn’t that old,” he mumbled. “Ten years, no not even that much, it was made five or six years ago. Let’s see, the balance between the blade and handle also feels different from a regular shortsword…...Do you know the name of that man?”

“His name is Roan.”

“Roan...Roan. Hmm. I at the least carved his name, so I do feel like I vaguely remember something, but that was along with tens of others. My memories are all getting mixed, and I can’t be sure.”

“Please. Try to remember. I’ll do anything.”

“Even if you say that...Still, I feel like this sword is somehow different from those I normally make...but as for how...”

He tilted his head for some time, then suddenly his heavy eyes opened. ''Aah.'' Orba felt his breath stop.

“I remember. It was a strange request. If I’m certain, it wasn’t for himself but his family that he asked me to make this.”

“T-That’s him. It’s unmistakably him.”

“Didn’t he dump the majority of his pay meant for himself in front of me? At the time I was fairly busy, but you could say he was a strong-spirited one and I felt myself moved and wanting to have a go. A request for a sword that a child can handle. I had never made anything like it, so it also slightly stoked my urge to make it.”

“And then? And then what happened to that man, Roan?” Orba asked him restlessly.

He had long forgotten he was currently wearing the mask of ‘Gil’.

“What happened?” Sodan slumped his narrow shoulders. “He was a regular soldier stationed in Apta. Of course he—”

It was right when Sodan began to say this.

He did not know why, but Orba, who should have only been paying attention to Sodan thought he felt an ominous presence out of the corner of his eye and turned his sights toward it. There was no one there. Just as before, there were only the numerous swords buried into the ground.

“''Ahh.''”

Sodan gave a sigh after noticing the direction of Orba’s gaze. Orba silently approached the sword with his sight nailed on its engraving and he pulled it out. Even up close it read the same. The name engraved on it was most certainly,

ROAN

“The last time I saw him was in the middle of Garbera’s siege.” Sodan’s voice sounded strangely muffled. “It was after the commanders all fled, you see but he probably did not know about that. This is what the Mephian soldiers taken captive after the fortress fell said. He encouraged everyone and fought believing reinforcements would come until the end. Afterwards, I saw his body in the pile of dead Mephian soldiers and made him a sword as a gravestone. This is my memory of him.”

“No...way,” Orba muttered, his voice cracking. “He’s a different person. There are others with the name Roan. He’s not the Roan I know...”

“He seems like a important person to you. Please wait a moment.”

Sodan returned to his workshop and brought out a bundled piece of parchment and handed it to Orba. Orba received it half-dazed and opened the paper.

The sword’s design was drawn there. Orba gulped. He could immediately tell this was something drawn by his brother Roan. It was a blueprint. It specifically indicated where the letters of ORBA should be engraved. Below it was a sketch of a person’s hand.

“Make it so it easily be held with a hand this size, he told me,” Sodan told him.

Orba trembled.

Even after Sodan stood the sword against the wall and gave his farewells, Orba did not move from that spot for a long time.

Orba placed his hand over the sketched hand. Of course, his hand already already grown much bigger and they no longer overlapped. But he was sure he could feel a warmth there.

''“See you, Orba.”''

The warmth of his brother who, for some reason, asked for that handshake six years ago.

Wasn’t that so he could prepare this? To remember and measure the size of his little brother’s hand with his own.

Orba trembled, for a long time.

At that time Vileena came to welcome the prince, but it was when he had already disembarked the ship, so she made her way to his private room only to find he had not returned yet.

She didn’t have any important business with him, but once Vileena set her mind on something she would carry it out. Be that as it may, chasing around after the prince with no important business could be considered unacceptable in itself, so she searched for some plausible reason.

''They should be having a conference for when they send reinforcements to Garbera. Maybe I should ask if I could attend.''

For the time being, she had given herself a reason that would justify her visit. Still, if she badgered him too much about it, that would only have the opposite effect. ''First, I shall give my congratulations and curry his favour.'' she reflected.

''Dealing with a child has its troubles.''

She nearly giggled. She felt she had gotten somewhat closer to this man named Gil.

Men engaged in the fortress’ repairs ran back and forth. Most of them were shirtless and Vileena could feel her cheeks reddening, but she endured it and asked for the prince’s whereabouts.

“He went up the keep’s central stairs not too long ago.”

“I see, thank you!”

As soon as she thanked him, she flung her head around and ran off. Quickly, one of the men called to her,

“The inside of the keep is dangerous! There’s a chance of collapse, so don’t enter any way with a rope up!”

Vileena waved her hand to acknowledge her understanding, but never turned back.

For no reason at all, the men exchanged glances and smiled.

When he came to, Orba was on the fortress’ uppermost level.

The majority of the uppermost level had been destroyed by the bombing, so to be more accurate this was the chamber of the floor below. Here and there the floor caved in, cracks could be found, and the room was littered with debris and dark soot. Across the upper-half of the decimated wall was the evening sky. The dark clouds crept heavily across the thin, vermillion-lit sky.

''He’s dead.''

And here, under the sight of the damaged fortress and blood-stained corridors and hillside, Orba found himself quite literally overtaken by the true sense of that word. The evening vermillion, red as blood, soaked into Orba’s eyes and had him picture himself as Roan, seeing the sprawled corpses of the soldiers lying there at the time.

''Dead?''

Just by closing his eyes, the scene at that moment vividly came to him. His brother, wearing a mismatched set of armor and helmet, brandishing his seemingly heavy sword and encouraging his friends who lost their fighting spirit, then running out believing help would come.

Orba collapsed on his hands and knees, feeling the ground beneath him might cave in at any moment.

''They’re taking too long to come.''

Droplets fell down staining the floor.

''They ''are'' taking too long to come, aren’t they, Roan.''

He knew somewhere that there was no way his brother had lived. He knew this since six years ago. And yet, if he didn’t ascertain it himself he could not accept that conclusion. It was that tiny inkling of a wish he harboured, so small that it could not even be considered hope.

And even more so after becoming the prince’s body double and finding that faint light lit towards his future.

His hope expanded again when he had jumped out where the open sun shone. He felt if he gained power as prince, he could one day reunite with Roan, Alice, and his mother.

Now, he realised it was all an illusion.

''Recruit soldiers?''

He was revolted by the he who thought that way. Those high commanders saw the simple soldier as nothing but numbers. Roan was unmistakably one of them. And without his name even being remembered, he had fallen as a corpse. Then once the battle ended, he was lumped together as nothing but a number in the casualties.

''I’m the same as Oubary. I’m the same as those rotten Mephian nobles.''

Unnoticed, someone stood frozen behind Orba breaking down into a loud wail. She stared on in surprise and, as if she had seen something she should not have, suddenly turned her back and quickly descended the flight of stairs.

===Part 3===
Things flow on without pause. Even if the same event were to happen to two people, one might blow past like the wind while another might find himself swallowed like a wave and sent to some unexpected place.

As for whether these should be called their individual fates or the simple flow of time, that would be for the people of the future to decide.

Noue Salzantes had received the following notice in the lands of Garbera.

Gil Mephius not only repelled Ax Bazgan’s forces which had marched their way into Apta but formed an alliance with them two days later.

“Fufu.”

“Lord Noue, you look happy.”

Roger, commander of the calvary, said to him. They were busy preparing for the war. Currently, the Garberan roads were filled with travelling groups of cavalrymen and infantry, and items necessary for the upcoming war.

“Not particularly. Just that with this, it has become easier to move.”

Noue smiled and left the library, exiting the living quarters. Soon the seasonal winds would blow across the Garberan lands. Now that he remembered, Ryucown did enjoy viewing the bending grass fields as he took a leisure stroll on his horse.

''Gil Mephius. I had thought he resembled Ryucown, but ''that'' is something different.''

What Ryucown possessed that Gil did not was ‘charm’. He was overflowing with intelligence and wit, but there was something of a gap to it. That gap of his was what fascinated others. Something that made others think, ‘He would be hopeless if I wasn’t there for him’. This was what drove them to want to gain his trust, and to exhibit their abilities greater than they normally would.

''However, Gil most likely does not have that leisure.''

Being watched by those eyes was unnerving. He could not tell what the man was scheming under those eyes. There was no charismatic aspect that fervidly won over his men, but it did make Noue think that he did not want him as an enemy.

''I can’t deny I’ve felt that myself on more than one occasion. But in these warring times I can’t tell how far we take this path of cooperation with Mephius. I shall make the most of it and fully gauge his capabilities while he remains an ally.''

That, to Noue, was the greatest enjoyment of all.

At the same time in the territory of Mephius, a battalion of men rode towards Apta.

At the helm, leading these 500 soldiers was Oubary Bilan. Having successfully quelled the slaves’ rebellion, he had been ordered by the emperor to head for Apta without any time to rest.

It was when he drew near Apta, a day’s travel away, that he discovered an alliance had been formed with Taulia.

“He joined hands with the foul Bazgans? Ha!” Oubary sneered, taking residence in one of the more luxurious inns in town for their rest stop. On the floor were several female slaves waiting on him that he had bought from the nearby Kiluro.

“He’s finally overstepped his line. Let him pray he hasn’t earned the emperor’s wrath.”

The decade-long war that continued with Garbera had been brought to a close through a political marriage and next, just when he thought he could deal with their lifelong enemy, the Bazgans, he found that an alliance had also been formed with them. For one such as Oubary who raised his name through battles and found that it was only through battles that he could satiate himself,

“Things are getting less and less amusing.”

-those were his wholehearted feelings.

And in the imperial capital, Solon.

Similarly to Orba who had made his way to Apta, Fedom Aulin was swamped with a busyness enough to shave away at his lifespan. ‘Support the prince and the should the situation require it rise against the emperor’—operating under this agenda Fedom had at long last acquired an adequate number of supporters; just as he was at the point where could think this, he heard from others talk of the alliance formed with Taulia.

“I can’t tolerate this any more.”

He furiously rode his horse for his mansion located in Solon.

It was the talk of the nobles in the palace, and the majority took this as Gil’s ''defeat''. It was widely known that his thwarting Ax’s first attacked owed mainly to Garbera’s reinforcements and that in the second battle, Apta fortress had been so much as half destroyed.

Most likely, there was some ongoing situation in the Tauran provinces that he needed to turn his attention to, so he attacked Apta and threatened Gil into an alliance in order to subdue Mephius for the meanwhile. That the imperial crown prince Gil Mephius had unconcernedly come to Apta with only a handful of troops must have been like a godsend to Ax.

“It seems the prince’s grace ends here.”

Many of the nobles decidedly agreed on this. But to generals like Rogue Saian, his defeat wasn’t unreasonable.

“The prince deserves to be praised for defending with a force that small. Damn it to hell, If I had known Ax would really attack us at full force I would have pushed these old bones of mine and ran to his aid, even at the expense of rousing the emperor’s anger.”

It was the prince’s first time facing a defensive battle. In addition, there were no experienced commanders there to support him. Amongst the generals, voices of sympathy were predominant.

When the emperor received the news, he made a scornful and disbelieving sort of mutter. ''And he said he would take Ax’s head...''

“Now then let me ask you, men. What kind of letter shall I deliver to my foolish son Gil? A fatherly one of gratitude? Or a rebuke to the fool who fell behind the Bazgans, our long-time enemy?”

On the other hand Fedom Aulin, through the page Dinn, was given a more detailed report on the situation than what the other nobles had received. Included was how Orba was the one to corner Ax, and how it was by his own judgment that he decided on the alliance. He could no longer tolerate turning a blind eye to Orb’s behaviour.

''Isn’t there some sort of handy magic that Hermann can use? Something like those often found in legends and lore, that can easily control someone?''

One the one hand, Fedom was nearly about to lose himself in his anger, but this event also sprouted a response favourable for Fedom. It was because the emperor’s outrageous treatment towards his own son had prompted frowns from many of the aristocrats.

''I’ll start everything once Orba returns to Solon. Then I’ll introduce all the supporters to him. That is when my battle truly begins.''

And for that cause, he first needed to bend Orba to his will. Fedom arrived at his mansion, dropped down from his horse, loudly pushed open his door and called out Hermann’s name.

But it was his page who had come to inform him a guest was waiting. He frowned and asked who it was.

“Good day, Lord Aulin.”

Giving a glance at the young girl who smiled at him in the main room, he quickly adopted a courteous attitude.

“If this isn’t Princess Ineli. I’m deeply obliged by you specially coming.”

It had been a while since he had seen Ineli in person, ever since Zaat’s rebellion. Her already fair white skin seemed to have paled a bit more and perhaps due to her exhaustion, her eyes seemed bigger than usual. Still, Ineli released a bewitching smile that did not match her age.

“I had something to ask Lord Aulin so I took the opportunity to wait here.”

“To ask me? Well, I’m not sure if I know anything that might interest the princess.”

“It’s about my brother.”

Fedom’s forced smile momentarily turned stiff. At his reaction, Ineli turned her eyes up and asked questioningly,

“Somehow, the relationship between you and my brother has suddenly turned good. There are even a bunch of rumors spreading in the palace. How you are raising the prince, whom no one paid a glance at, and might be building a force against the emperor.”

“Truly an interesting joke.”

“Isn’t it also around that time that brother changed, I wonder.”

Ineli continued smiling. Feeling sweat overtaking him, Fedom called a page over and ordered him to prepare some tea.

“Changed….he has changed, you say?”

“Yes. Many have said that it is as if the person himself has changed, no? He saved Princess Vileena at Seirin Valley, defeated Ryucown on his first campaign, and just recently, predicted Zaat’s rebellion and prevented it before it could take place.”

“Men are creatures that can grow into a different person in the blink of three days. This holds especially for the imperials who spend their days aware of the mission and responsibility entrusted to them through their noble blood...”

“I would also like to think that,” Ineli said softly, interrupting Fedom’s words.

“But don’t you think the change is a bit too severe? That time, when I was about to be taken away by Zaat in particular. Brother chased after me on an airship and even after being shot by Zaat, he triumphed. They were things I heard of from the time at Seirin Valley and the time he fought Ryucown as well, but it was at this moment that I came to see the ‘changed’ prince.”

“As I was saying, that is...”

As Fedom was about to send a laugh,

“Yes. Allow me to jump to the point.”

Ineli elegantly lifted up the cup of tea the page brought over, pursed her lips, and took a sip.

Ineli spoke the words like a whisper. “The current Gil Mephius—isn’t he perhaps an impostor?”

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