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Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume 01 Chapter2 - MTL

2017-03-03T10:27:05Z

An Orange Peon: /* Leitmeritz */

<noinclude>{{MTL-old}}</noinclude>
=== Leitmeritz ===

He was having a bad dream.

''Our forces were gathered on a small hill.''

''It was meal time. The soldiers put a pot that was as deep as a barrel on a mound, which had been turned into a stove. They were preparing a fish stew.''

''There was a slight ridge before the Dinant Plains, which plateaued with no end in sight.''

''There were twenty thousand Brune soldiers sharing a meal with his own troops. Thousands of streams of heat floated upward, and the soldiers seemed as though they were imprisoned in the steam.''

Tigre and Mashas were talking while stirring the food in the pot when a few young men appeared in front of their eyes with the colliding sound of their armor.

“So you came as well, Vorn.”

The man who said that with an openly mocking tone was Zion Thenardier.

The Thenardier house held the title of Duke. It was a long and distinguished family incomparable to the Vorn household. It had many aristocrats who held enormous power, and the territory it owned was wide. It was said that the number of soldiers mobilized by their household could reach ten thousand. Even in this war, which had been organized in a haste, they commanded a force four thousand strong. Zion was the Thenardier family's eldest son and heir. He was currently 17 years old. Though he wore decorated armor and bore a splendid sword at his waist in an imposing manner worthy of his lineage, he always had an expression as though he was looking down on others. At his back was an entourage of young men flattering him. Like Zion, they were aristocrats born into families holding the rank of marquis or duke. They wore glittering armor with their respective household's crest. They looked at Tigre with a grimace, and did not seem to harbor any good intentions.


Tigre could not simply ignore them, and felt obliged to show a minimal courtesy.

“... I am here to serve as His Majesty's loyal subject, so I came here as quickly as possible.”

“Though it's quite admirable to say that, I'm not sure how helpful you'll be.”

After Zion ridiculed Tigre, the laughter of the other nobles overlapped with his own. Perhaps it was because their ages were similar, but Zion frequently made fun of Tigre in such a manner.

“I told you before, your family has merely hunted for four or five generations. I can hardly recognize you as a noble.”

He spat out those words arrogantly and immediately tried to stomp Tigre's bow, which was laying on the ground.

Tigre moved reflexively, picking up his bow as quickly as a wild beast.


''“Uwah!”''

Zion stumbled, losing his balance and falling hard on the ground, taking one of his followers down with him.

“How dare you do that to Master Zion!”

To the enraged followers who roared at him, Tigre yelled back:

“I was protecting my bow!”

“A bow? If it's a bow, so what, you coward!”

“That's right. There's nothing wrong in breaking this crap. You should be on the front lines with a sword!”

“I'm sure that the God of War, Trigraf, would never give his blessings to someone like you!”

The other followers expressed their approval one after another. Tigre grit his teeth in anger.

In the Brune Kingdom, their complaints were acceptable.

''“The bow is the weapon of a coward who does not have the courage to expose his body before a naked blade.”''

Such train of thoughts were deeply rooted in the Brune Army, which made little use of the bow. Not only were the achievements of archers disregarded, but archers in general were as well.

''“Archers are all drafted hunters, farmers who do not own land, people who have committed a serious crime as a warrior -- or those who aren't skilled with the sword or the spear, to fill out the ranks."''


Due to such a status quo, those who used bows, even as soldiers, were regarded as criminals and useless failures that were looked down upon.

Although Tigre's ancestor had been presented with territory for hunting and the title of earl for his distinguished military services, Mashas had told him, "If he hadn't been a hunter, he'd probably have been promoted to an even higher rank."

“Calm down, you guys.”

With some help, Zion managed to stand up, and put a stop to his followers' actions. Though they were reluctant, they stopped blaming Tigre.

Zion put on an act while getting rid of the dust on his armor. He crossed his arms and laughed scornfully at Tigre.

"The reason why you stick to the bow is because you can't handle a sword or a spear, right? You probably think that if you head into the battlefield with a bow, it would barely be enough to pretend at being a soldier, right?"

Tigre remained silent. It was true he was poor with the sword and spear. If he objected here, Zion would ask him to take up a sword or a spear and demonstrate his skills, and laugh at him. This had already happened once before.

Zion did not stop taunting him there.

“To begin with, you are an earl of the Kingdom of Brune, yet you can't use a sword or a spear and plan to head to the battlefield without wearing armor. Aren't you ashamed? Guys, look at his shabby appearance. He has a leather plate, leather gauntlets and even leather leggings. All his equipment is made of leather. At most, his mantle is decent, but if that's the only presentable part, then I really feel sad about the financial situation of his territory.”


“--- Lord Zion.”

Mashas, who had remained silent until then, spoke sullenly.

“Your words have been insightful. However, since you said so much at once, surely you have become thirsty.”

He continued while pointing in a certain direction.

“There's some rayion wine being distributed over there. Why not try drinking some, to relieve your thirst?”

Using a polite and humble tone, Mashas's attitude pressured the other side.

The dignity of this old knight, who had just turned 55, was intimidating to Zion.

Zion grunted and stepped back involuntarily as he became aware that he forgot his manners. He then snorted and turned around.

“Hey, let's go.”

Tigre watched Zion and the others walk away, and thanked Mashas after checking his bow's condition.

“Thank you. You saved me.”

“It's nothing. I should be the one to apologize. It would have been better if I had intervened earlier, but I couldn't find an opportunity to barge in.”


From Zion's perspective, Mashas was a weak aristocrat no different from Tigre. If the former didn't get the timing right, he would simply snort with laughter.

While returning to stir the pan, Mashas looked about the area casually.

Whether soldier or aristocrat, all were concentrated on their pots, or were taking care of their arms while entertaining themselves with chatter. Not a single person looked their way, and that indifference reached an unnatural state.

They were all afraid of Zion, so they avoided relations with Tigre.

“I now understand that handling the sword and spear is not proof of courage.”

Mashas spoke in irony. Tigre wanted to say something to him, but shut his mouth at the end. Not far away, the barely audible voices of nobles gathered together reached his ears.

“By the way, did you hear about what Duke Ganelon did?”

“Are you talking about him increasing taxes, using war preparations as an excuse?”

“That's right. If there is a young girl in a house that's not paying taxes, she will be taken away. If there isn't one, then the house is set on fire.”

“It's really enviable. I'd like to have the authority to place a temporary tax too.”


The aristocrat didn't look resentful. He was simply grumbling in dissatisfaction.

Duke Ganelon was one of the most influential nobles of Brune Kingdom, on par with Thenardier. There were many powerful aristocrats amongst his relatives as well. His power, too, was something not even the king could ignore.

When it came to territory, Brune nobles were allowed to govern pieces of land, but for certain privileges, such as setting taxes, the permission of the king was necessary.

Duke Ganelon not only went against this rule and imposed taxes without consulting the king, but also did these inhuman things in his territory. Yet, the king still tolerated it.

“For a story like that, Duke Thenardier is not inferior. He ordered his people to stop drinking for as long as the war goes on. They had to hand over all of their alcohol as an oath to the gods."

“I see. But it's not hard to hide or make alcohol. What happens to those who are found guilty of violating the ban?”

"The part about kidnapping the family's daughters is similar to Ganelon's method, but as a warning I hear that swords are given to the husband and wife or to the father and son, and they're made to kill each other with it. It seems that they even bet on who will win."

Tigre clenched his fist after hearing the conversation.

Mashas placed a wrinkled hand on Tigre's knee as he was about to stand up.


“Calm down.”

“How can I possibly remain calm!?”

“Though it may be harsh of me to say this, nothing would change, even if you said something.”

He was right. Tigre sat back down, but his rage was still boiling inside him.

He desperately ground his teeth and held his tongue in order to restrain himself from acting on impulse.

He was angry because Ganelon and Thenardier did not regard the people within their dominion as humans. They did not hesitate in their cruelty. He was angry at the men who spoke lightly of such cruel matters and those who overlooked such things without any scruple. Finally, he was angry at his own powerlessness, as he knew he could do nothing.

“The story just now... is it true?”

“Though it is a rumor, there have been many others similar to this one. Still, the people in question have not denied it. You rarely come to the capital, so it's no wonder you didn't know about this.”

Maybe this really couldn't be helped.

Tigre hardly left his territory, the land of Alsace.

He had no desire to rise in the world and gain fame or glory, nor did he have any ambition. That's why he was not interested in his status as an aristocrat.

Plus, in his mind, he had no intention of dealing with Zion, who was one of the sons of the nobles.

“His Majesty still tolerates such behavior...?” he asked fearfully.


He did not want to believe it.

“Certainly, His Majesty has said nothing to them at the present.”

Mashas's stocky body trembled as he shook his head grumpily.

“I believe His Majesty has his own matters to settle. One day, if His Majesty can't control them anymore, at least Prince Regnas should...”

Mashas's eyes clung to the slender hope. Suddenly, he looked up and stared at Tigre. Distracted, Tigre saw Mashas's finger coming towards him, aiming at his mouth, and poking him there.

“Fue...?”

It was too abrupt. No words could come out from Tigre's mouth.

Furthermore, the hand blocking his mouth was kind of cold, and had an indescribable iron taste.

<center><big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big></center>

When he awoke, a dim ceiling was in Tigre's view.

“--- So you finally woke up.”

Tigre heard a voice which lacked intonation. Immediately after that, he felt something withdrawn from his mouth.

What left his mouth was a sword.


The owner of this sword was a woman with golden hair, who he had never seen before.

“... Where should I start?”

“By the way, this is my first time waking a person in such a way.”

She returned with a look and frosty words. Tigre was at a loss and tried greeting her for the time being.

“... Good morning.”

“It is one koku (two hours) through the day.”

Tigre sat up and looked at the woman while scratching his head.

She wore a skirt and short-sleeved shirt. She had long gloves, which reached to her elbows, and boots up to her knees. At her waist was her sheathed sword. It was possible that she was taller than Tigre, and seemed to be two or three years older than him.

She was an unmistakably beautiful woman. However, her scarce expressions gave her face a hard look, leaving her with an unsociable impression.

There were three particularly eye-catching features:

Her long golden hair, tied up on the left side of her head.

Her azure eyes, which were as cold as marble.

And though she was tall and well balanced, she had ample bosoms which did not match her slender build.


Tigre inadvertently stared at the two bulges from underneath her clothes. The woman flashed her sword and threw an unkind remark at him.

“--- If you don't wake up properly, I will skewer you.”

“... I'm sorry.”

Blushing, Tigre apologized properly.

He looked about the room. It was small, containing only the bed he slept on. Sunlight shined through the window, brightly lighting the room. The stone floor was bare, and the only door led to the hallway. His bow leaned against the wall.

“Really, even with the soldiers shouting for your death, even though you are a prisoner... how can you sleep so well?”

“It's one of my special skills.”

“I suggest you hold back a little. You lack tension.”

Anger was mixed into her cold voice. Tigre looked at her in embarrassment.

“Am I really that bad?”

“To the extent that I recall my murderous intent.”

The woman turned about as she threw an answer to Tigre, pushing the door open in the meanwhile.


“Eleanora-sama has called for you. Please follow me.”

Tigre put on his leather shoes and quickly followed after her.

“It's nice to meet you. I am ---”

“This is not our first meeting, Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.”

She answered without turning around, her voice clearly rejecting him.

“My name is Limalisha. It is not necessary for you to remember it.”

Leitmeritz was a principality under Eleanora's rule, and was located in the Kingdom of Zhcted.

Eleanora's troops had arrived at the capital the day before, ten days since they had departed from Dinant. After giving a word of thanks to the soldiers, Eleanora then left the men to her adjutant, Limalisha, and left for the king's capital with several men. It was necessary to report her victory to the king.

During the return to the public capital, Tigre asked the guards a few times, and each time the response was the same.

“We have no need to respond to a prisoner of our Vanadis-sama.”


Even if he asked to meet Eleanora, it wouldn't be possible for them to accept. And regardless, there was no way for him to meet with Eleanora when she had departed for the kingdom's capital to meet the king.

Left with no other options, Tigre remained obediently quiet.

“... Guess I'll just go with the flow.”

Tigre made that decision and looked at the sky until late at night. During the day, he dozed off on the horse.

Tigre followed Limalisha down the passage of the household.

“What are you looking about so restlessly for?”

Limalisha gazed back at him in amazement, as Tigre looked about like a child.

“I was just thinking that this is a splendid building.”

“You are an earl. An aristocrat.”

“I am a poor noble. There is no point comparing my small mansion to this one," Tigre replied without a hint of shame. He continued to look about, admiring the ceiling and floor.

Until now, Tigre had never left Brune Kingdom. Now, he was in the province's imperial palace. The mosaics which decorated the floor were new to him.


The side facing the courtyard was bathed in a column of soft sunlight. In that spacious area, soldiers were training hard. It was vibrant.

“It's a good atmosphere.”

“That is because this is Eleanora-sama's official palace," Limalisha answered, as if it were natural.

Soldiers patrolled the corridors, and what he assumed were maids and chamberlains strolled about, likely performing their jobs.

Tigre thought about the girl who was like his younger sister house-sitting his mansion in his absence.

''--- Titta must be worried.''

When he saw her off, he did not expect such a thing to happen.

''--- Bertrand, and everyone else as well, I hope you all made it back safely.''

He was impatient. He wished to return to Alsace as quickly as possible. However, attempting to escape as a prisoner could be punished by death, so he could only remain silent.

They finally left the palace.


He walked for a while before Limalisha stopped her feet.

“... We are here.”

He was brought to a training ground near the rampart.

Eleanora stood with three armed soldiers amongst the forty. She was clothed in shades of blue with her longsword in its argent sheathe at her waist.

“If you make any strange movements... no, please do so. It would save us quite a bit of time and effort," Limalisha said as she let the sound of her sword escaping its sheath at her waist be heard.

Though there was an obvious hostility, Tigre simply ignored it.

''--- It can't be helped. I'm a prisoner now. We were enemies just ten days ago.''

“Hm. You came.”

Eleanora noticed Tigre and walked up to him cheerfully. She smiled to Tigre first, then Limalisha.

“You've worked hard. Still, it took you quite some time to come here.”

“I apologize. He did not wake up so easily.”

“You didn't wake up?”


Eleanora looked doubtful hearing the story of him waking up only when he had a sword in his mouth. Her shoulders trembled as she held back her laughter.

“Even as a captive, you slept so deeply.”

“He is simply dull.”

At last, Eleanora laughed and turned to Tigre.

“Tigrevurmud Vorn, it's quite a long name for a person of Brune. Does it have an origin?”

“It is an ancestral name that I was given. If you find it difficult, you may call me Tigre.”

Tigre cited the phrase he was accustomed to. He felt odd being called Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.

Eleanora's face suddenly glowed. Her dignity as a Vanadis the soldiers knew was gone; she held the expression appropriate of a girl her age instead.

“In that case, Elen is fine as well. I would prefer it if you use that name.”

Tigre stared at her involuntarily. She spoke intimately with one who was supposed to be her prisoner. To put it another way, she was being overly familiar.

“Eleanora-sama.”

Though Limalisha reproached her, she showed no sign of fear.


“He's my prisoner. This much is fine, Lim.”

“Lim?”

Hearing the name, Tigre looked at Limalisha in surprise.

“I'll tell you now, she is one of my escorts whose horse you shot down, and she was the girl who took you here from Dinant.”

Certainly, her physique matched.

Although he wasn't certain how he should react, he thanked her honestly anyway.

“Though it may be strange of me to say this, thank you for bringing me here safely.”

Tigre had heard stories of prisoners being mocked and assaulted or killed by torture in a convoy. Some died without having a single meal. However, on their way back from Dinant, Tigre had never been abused. He had even been given proper food. Though it may have been because he was Elen's captive, Limalisha -- that is, Lim -- had been the one who properly took care of him.

Lim did not respond to Tigre. She did what she had to. She hid her anger as she was being thanked by Tigre by ignoring him and facing Elen.


“Eleanora-sama, there is still work to be done today. You should finish your minor errands early."

“I know, I know.” Elen smiled bitterly and waved her hand. She faced Tigre and smiled deliberately. “I would like to clarify things first, Tigre... no, Lord Vorn. As per the treaty between our countries, you will be treated as a prisoner of war. If in fifty days time the demanded ransom has not been delivered by the Kingdom of Brune -- that is to say, if a ransom has not been paid to me -- you will formally become mine as per the agreement. What binds this contract is the name and honor of the god Radegast. Is this acceptable?”

Though it was hardly suitable, Tigre nodded reluctantly.

It was a contract held between every country on the treatment of prisoners of war. It was made to avoid abuse, humiliation, and, frankly, murder. It was a rule which allowed for negotiations between countries to advance efficiently.

“Well, you might be a bit worried about the ransom, though.”

Tigre heard the number come from Elen's mouth and stood rooted to the spot with his mouth agape.


It was a number close to three times Alsace's total yearly tax revenue.

He felt dizzy from the impact.

“... Is it possible to reduce the amount?”

“No.”

A flat response.

''--- Well, there's no reason for her to.''

In many cases, the goal of taking an enemy captive was to retrieve a ransom. It was unlikely she would decrease it so easily.

“You will live here in the imperial palace. Needless to say, any attempt to escape will be met with the death penalty.”

He was like a fish dying out of water. Tigre desperately searched his memory for the savings within his territory.

It amounted to approximately one year's worth of tax revenue, so it was hardly enough.

''--- If I could speak to Titta or Bertrand, or perhaps Sir Mashas, who is more widely known, they might be able to raise the money.''

The preparations for the ransom were, simply put, hopeless.

He felt a pain between his eyes as he thought about his gloomy future. He nearly fainted, but before it happened, Tigre somehow managed to gather strength in his legs. Supporting his body and limbs with all the strength he could muster, he looked back at Elen.


''--- I must return to Alsace.''

''I was born and raised there. It is an important land that I inherited from my father.''

''I'm worried about the soldiers' safety as well. I'm certain my people are worried.''

''And above all else, I promised Titta I would return.''

''I want to respond to their wishes.''

“So... what business do you have calling me to a place like this?” Tigre spoke with impudent words and a tone to match. Elen's crimson eyes danced happily as she looked at him with admiration.

“Of course, that was not all I called you here for.” Elen pointed to a training bow sitting along the wall. “Shoot an arrow from here and hit that target over there.”

“Is that it?”

Tigre felt that it was rather anti-climactic.

The target was three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters) away. Even for those skilled with the bow, that distance would seem like a bad joke. Shooting an arrow that far was already a challenge in and of itself; to also hit the target would make it nothing short of impossible.


But for Tigre, that distance was not a big deal.

Although he didn't know what she was planning, he decided to do this quickly.

One of the soldiers brought a bow and four arrows. The man had delicate features and beautiful, shiny black hair that reached down to his shoulders.

After Tigre received the bow and arrow from him, his eyebrows knitted slightly.

“What a terrible bow...”

The material was hardly suitable for a bow, and the condition of the grip was poor as well. The stringing, too, was badly done. There was also some warping. It was clear what their intention was.

Elen was looking at him from a distance, and, like a child, was filled with expectation.

''Is she not involved?'' Tigre wondered. ''If that's the case, it's unlikely that this is a standard bow for the Zhcted Army.''

He wasn't sure if she knew about this. An unpleasant thought crossed his mind then. Thinking back, the bows in Brune were not that great either.


''--- It can't be an issue of the maker's ability... in the first place, there is no such profession as a bow craftsman.''

Tigre's bow was made by his father when he was small. The materials were chosen according to the knowledge and technology of other countries, such as Zchted.

The accuracy of his arrow was not solely due to Tigre's skill, but the quality of the tool as well.

While pretending to check the condition of the bow, he glanced peripherally at the soldier who passed him the bow, and saw him and several other soldiers grinning.

Angered, a murmur leaked from Tigre's mouth.

“Such a petty trick," he said.

“What is it?”

Lim was standing nearby, looking at him dubiously. Apparently, she had not heard his words. Still, complaining about the quality of the bow as a prisoner of war was cumbersome.

“I wish to confirm something," said Tigre. "It is not necessary for me to hit the target with all four arrows; only one, correct?”

“That is a rather timid remark for a person who killed my horse with a single arrow.”

Though she thought Tigre was being sarcastic, she remained expressionless. There was no sign of malice. It seemed that she had not yet noticed that the bow was inferior.


“If your physical condition is poor, I can tell Eleanora-sama to do this another day.”

“No, I will do it," Tigre answered in a strong tone. He set the bow in his hand. “However, please allow me to hit the target with only one arrow. I am not as confident with an unfamiliar bow.”

Lim bowed in assent and walked over to Elen. After speaking a few words, Elen looked at him without any dissatisfaction, as though she were saying, "Please begin."

Tigre nocked the first arrow and released it.

It stalled before it reached the target, falling to the ground less than two hundred alsin away. Laughter and sneers were heard amongst the soldiers.

He did not mind it and released the next arrow.

The hum of the arrow sounded as it flew in an arc. It hit the castle wall, far from the target.

The soldiers laughed loudly. Some shook their shoulders; others looked at him with pity or contempt. Many eyes were piercing Tigre.

“Are you doing this seriously?” Lim said irritably. She looked at Elen.


Elen appeared troubled as she watched Tigre, like a student who had been scolded by a teacher, though she was trying to properly solve the problem.

“I'll do it,” Tigre replied and nocked the third arrow.

“Hey, are you going to keep going? You're really willing to keep making a spectacle of yourself?”

“Maybe you'd like a replacement. Even though you can reach the target, you can't even shoot straight.”

“Vanadis-sama, did you really make a man like this your captive?”

“This is quite a splendid show. I wonder if something new will be shown tomorrow?”

Although the soldiers deliberately spoke ill of him, Tigre was not bothered by it. He was accustomed to such abuse. He had been harassed much worse than this many times before.

Tigre took a deep breath, and looked up at the sky for a change of pace, moving his neck around.

That was when he saw a black shadow.

''--- What is that?''

His neck stopped moving and he looked more closely.


In an instant, he understood the identity of the shadow. Chills ran down Tigre's spine as he screamed at Elen:

“Get down!”

''--- An arbalest...!''

The arbalest was a mechanical bow. Unlike the one that Tigre used, its bowstring was pulled by a winch and shot with a trigger. Although it was difficult to maintain and prone to failure, it was a powerful weapon that could fire a bolt up to 350 alsin (approximately 350 meters) away, and with enough force that it could punch through shields and armor and come out the other side.

The black shadow on the rampart was holding one.

A thick bolt was released from the arbalest, speeding through the air straight towards Elen. She had no time to avoid it.

However, Elen did not panic, nor did she move from her spot.

“--- Arifal!”

Muttering those words like a spell, the sword at her waist gave off a spark, cutting the atmosphere and scattering particles of silver.

In a moment, the air rapidly swelled, like an explosion. A storm raged about her.


Her long hair of silver-white danced with the wind. The bolt, entwined in the intense storm, was thrown far off orbit.

It passed through the empty space away from her and fell to the ground weakly.

''--- What just happened?''

Tigre stared in blank surprise at Elen.

It was not a coincidence; that was impossible.

While learning the bow, Tigre learned about the arbalest. He was knowledgeable about the power of the thick bolts. A wind could not conveniently blow it out of its orbit.

“Capture that man!”

Lim shouted. All the soldiers held a bow, however, far from hitting the shadow, they could not even reach the rampart.

The people with a sword or spear ran to the rampart.

The soldier guarding the wall, in response to the commotion, began chasing the shadow.

''--- This has nothing to do with me.''

Tigre muttered to himself. Though he shouted on reflex, he was not Elen's subordinate, nor was he a man of this city.

While thinking that, suddenly, Tigre remembered his first meeting with Elen.


“You're skilled.”

She smiled as she said so.

''Titta, Bertrand and his men, my late father, when was I last praised for my bow arm?''

“Should I capture him alive?”

Nocking the arrow, Tigre asked Lim in a flat tone.

“Is this really a situation where you can say that...?”

Grasping the sword with her hand until it went white, Lim stared at the shadow on the rampart in chagrin. She wanted to lead the soldiers, but could not leave Elen's side.

The shadow ran quickly across the wall. Once he reached the tower, he could quickly escape outside.

“I understand. I'll get his foot.”

Tigre said those words as he strongly drew his bow to the limit.

After shooting the previous two arrows, he understood its condition perfectly.

''--- At this distance, I won't miss.''

Lim looked at him in doubt.

Then her gaze changed to one of surprise.


The bowstring trembled.

The arrow resounded with a sharp buzz as it drew a large arc, piercing the leg of the shadow.

The shadow fell on the rampart and was caught by the soldiers who finally caught up.

“What... was that?”

One of the soldiers on the rampart looked down at Tigre. No other words would come out.

The other soldiers, too, looked at Tigre in amazement.

“Impossible. He shot over three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters) from that position to the rampart...”

“No, if you think about the height of the tower, it could be even more. No way.”

“I can't believe it... Is that a human skill, or can all people of Brune do this?”

Though the voices showed astonishment and shock, there was clearly admiration in them as well.

There were those rooted to the spot, others looked to the sky, and some covered their forehead with their hand and recited the names of the Gods.

The malice in the training area no longer remained.

“He did something like that... with such a terrible bow...”

The soldiers who passed Tigre the bow were pale with fear.


“--- You got me.”

Tigre shrugged his shoulders. Though he held no emotions in his chest anymore, he was puzzled. He noticed he was bathed in gazes all at once.

The fourth arrow remained in his hand. Though Lim had seen it before, she did not look any differently than the other soldiers. When his eyes met hers, he understood her body was tense.

He looked back at Elen.

“I'll ask you now. What about the fourth shot?”

“It's enough with this. I'd rather not lose this.”

Elen's argent hair moved gently as she shook her head.

“You did well.”

Elen smiled at Tigre with sincerity, her sword still sheathed at her waist. A wind blew from somewhere, tickling Tigre's hair.

''--- Just now...''

Tigre placed his hand in his hair involuntarily. He thought Elen had somehow used her longsword to produce the wind.

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Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume 01 Chapter2 - MTL

2017-03-02T06:56:19Z

An Orange Peon: /* Leitmeritz */

<noinclude>{{MTL-old}}</noinclude>
=== Leitmeritz ===

He was having a bad dream.

''Our forces were gathered on a small hill.''

''It was meal time. The soldiers put a pot that was as deep as a barrel on a mound, which had been turned into a stove. They were preparing a fish stew.''

''There was a slight ridge before the Dinant Plains, which plateaued with no end in sight.''

''There were twenty thousand Brune soldiers sharing a meal with his own troops. Thousands of streams of heat floated upward, and the soldiers seemed as though they were imprisoned in the steam.''

Tigre and Mashas were talking while stirring the food in the pot when a few young men appeared in front of their eyes with the colliding sound of their armor.

“So you came as well, Vorn.”

The man who said that with an openly mocking tone was Zion Thenardier.

The Thenardier house held the title of Duke. It was a long and distinguished family incomparable to the Vorn household. It had many aristocrats who held enormous power, and the territory it owned was wide. It was said that the number of soldiers mobilized by their household could reach ten thousand. Even in this war, which had been organized in a haste, they commanded a force four thousand strong. Zion was the Thenardier family's eldest son and heir. He was currently 17 years old. Though he wore decorated armor and bore a splendid sword at his waist in an imposing manner worthy of his lineage, he always had an expression as though he was looking down on others. At his back was an entourage of young men flattering him. Like Zion, they were aristocrats born into families holding the rank of marquis or duke. They wore glittering armor with their respective household's crest. They looked at Tigre with a grimace, and did not seem to harbor any good intentions.


Tigre could not simply ignore them, and felt obliged to show a minimal courtesy.

“... I am here to serve as His Majesty's loyal subject, so I came here as quickly as possible.”

“Though it's quite admirable to say that, I'm not sure how helpful you'll be.”

After Zion ridiculed Tigre, the laughter of the other nobles overlapped with his own. Perhaps it was because their ages were similar, but Zion frequently made fun of Tigre in such a manner.

“I told you before, your family has merely hunted for four or five generations. I can hardly recognize you as a noble.”

He spat out those words arrogantly and immediately tried to stomp Tigre's bow, which was laying on the ground.

Tigre moved reflexively, picking up his bow as quickly as a wild beast.


''“Uwah!”''

Zion stumbled, losing his balance and falling hard on the ground, taking one of his followers down with him.

“How dare you do that to Master Zion!”

To the enraged followers who roared at him, Tigre yelled back:

“I was protecting my bow!”

“A bow? If it's a bow, so what, you coward!”

“That's right. There's nothing wrong in breaking this crap. You should be on the front lines with a sword!”

“I'm sure that the God of War, Trigraf, would never give his blessings to someone like you!”

The other followers expressed their approval one after another. Tigre grit his teeth in anger.

In the Brune Kingdom, their complaints were acceptable.

''“The bow is the weapon of a coward who does not have the courage to expose his body before a naked blade.”''

Such train of thoughts were deeply rooted in the Brune Army, which made little use of the bow. Not only were the achievements of archers disregarded, but archers in general were as well.

''“Archers are all drafted hunters, farmers who do not own land, people who have committed a serious crime as a warrior -- or those who aren't skilled with the sword or the spear, to fill out the ranks."''


Due to such a status quo, those who used bows, even as soldiers, were regarded as criminals and useless failures that were looked down upon.

Although Tigre's ancestor had been presented with territory for hunting and the title of earl for his distinguished military services, Mashas had told him, "If he hadn't been a hunter, he'd probably have been promoted to an even higher rank."

“Calm down, you guys.”

With some help, Zion managed to stand up, and put a stop to his followers' actions. Though they were reluctant, they stopped blaming Tigre.

Zion put on an act while getting rid of the dust on his armor. He crossed his arms and laughed scornfully at Tigre.

"The reason why you stick to the bow is because you can't handle a sword or a spear, right? You probably think that if you head into the battlefield with a bow, it would barely be enough to pretend at being a soldier, right?"

Tigre remained silent. It was true he was poor with the sword and spear. If he objected here, Zion would ask him to take up a sword or a spear and demonstrate his skills, and laugh at him. This had already happened once before.

Zion did not stop taunting him there.

“To begin with, you are an earl of the Kingdom of Brune, yet you can't use a sword or a spear and plan to head to the battlefield without wearing armor. Aren't you ashamed? Guys, look at his shabby appearance. He has a leather plate, leather gauntlets and even leather leggings. All his equipment is made of leather. At most, his mantle is decent, but if that's the only presentable part, then I really feel sad about the financial situation of his territory.”


“--- Lord Zion.”

Mashas, who had remained silent until then, spoke sullenly.

“Your words have been insightful. However, since you said so much at once, surely you have become thirsty.”

He continued while pointing in a certain direction.

“There's some rayion wine being distributed over there. Why not try drinking some, to relieve your thirst?”

Using a polite and humble tone, Mashas's attitude pressured the other side.

The dignity of this old knight, who had just turned 55, was intimidating to Zion.

Zion grunted and stepped back involuntarily as he became aware that he forgot his manners. He then snorted and turned around.

“Hey, let's go.”

Tigre watched Zion and the others walk away, and thanked Mashas after checking his bow's condition.

“Thank you. You saved me.”

“It's nothing. I should be the one to apologize. It would have been better if I had intervened earlier, but I couldn't find an opportunity to barge in.”


From Zion's perspective, Mashas was a weak aristocrat no different from Tigre. If the former didn't get the timing right, he would simply snort with laughter.

While returning to stir the pan, Mashas looked about the area casually.

Whether soldier or aristocrat, all were concentrated on their pots, or were taking care of their arms while entertaining themselves with chatter. Not a single person looked their way, and that indifference reached an unnatural state.

They were all afraid of Zion, so they avoided relations with Tigre.

“I now understand that handling the sword and spear is not proof of courage.”

Mashas spoke in irony. Tigre wanted to say something to him, but shut his mouth at the end. Not far away, the barely audible voices of nobles gathered together reached his ears.

“By the way, did you hear about what Duke Ganelon did?”

“Are you talking about him increasing taxes, using war preparations as an excuse?”

“That's right. If there is a young girl in a house that's not paying taxes, she will be taken away. If there isn't one, then the house is set on fire.”

“It's really enviable. I'd like to have the authority to place a temporary tax too.”


The aristocrat didn't look resentful. He was simply grumbling in dissatisfaction.

Duke Ganelon was one of the most influential nobles of Brune Kingdom, on par with Thenardier. There were many powerful aristocrats amongst his relatives as well. His power, too, was something not even the king could ignore.

When it came to territory, Brune nobles were allowed to govern pieces of land, but for certain privileges, such as setting taxes, the permission of the king was necessary.

Duke Ganelon not only went against this rule and imposed taxes without consulting the king, but also did these inhuman things in his territory. Yet, the king still tolerated it.

“For a story like that, Duke Thenardier is not inferior. He ordered his people to stop drinking for as long as the war goes on. They had to hand over all of their alcohol as an oath to the gods."

“I see. But it's not hard to hide or make alcohol. What happens to those who are found guilty of violating the ban?”

"The part about kidnapping the family's daughters is similar to Ganelon's method, but as a warning I hear that swords are given to the husband and wife or to the father and son, and they're made to kill each other with it. It seems that they even bet on who will win."

Tigre clenched his fist after hearing the conversation.

Mashas placed a wrinkled hand on Tigre's knee as he was about to stand up.


“Calm down.”

“How can I possibly remain calm!?”

“Though it may be harsh of me to say this, nothing would change, even if you said something.”

He was right. Tigre sat back down, but his rage was still boiling inside him.

He desperately ground his teeth and held his tongue in order to restrain himself from acting on impulse.

He was angry because Ganelon and Thenardier did not regard the people within their dominion as humans. They did not hesitate in their cruelty. He was angry at the men who spoke lightly of such cruel matters and those who overlooked such things without any scruple. Finally, he was angry at his own powerlessness, as he knew he could do nothing.

“The story just now... is it true?”

“Though it is a rumor, there have been many others similar to this one. Still, the people in question have not denied it. You rarely come to the capital, so it's no wonder you didn't know about this.”

Maybe this really couldn't be helped.

Tigre hardly left his territory, the land of Alsace.

He had no desire to rise in the world and gain fame or glory, nor did he have any ambition. That's why he was not interested in his status as an aristocrat.

Plus, in his mind, he had no intention of dealing with Zion, who was one of the sons of the nobles.

“His Majesty still tolerates such behavior...?” he asked fearfully.


He did not want to believe it.

“Certainly, His Majesty has said nothing to them at the present.”

Mashas's stocky body trembled as he shook his head grumpily.

“I believe His Majesty has his own matters to settle. One day, if His Majesty can't control them anymore, at least Prince Regnas should...”

Mashas's eyes clung to the slender hope. Suddenly, he looked up and stared at Tigre. Distracted, Tigre saw Mashas's finger coming towards him, aiming at his mouth, and poking him there.

“Fue...?”

It was too abrupt. No words could come out from Tigre's mouth.

Furthermore, the hand blocking his mouth was kind of cold, and had an indescribable iron taste.

<center><big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big></center>

When he awoke, a dim ceiling was in Tigre's view.

“--- So you finally woke up.”

Tigre heard a voice which lacked intonation. Immediately after that, he felt something withdrawn from his mouth.

What left his mouth was a sword.


The owner of this sword was a woman with golden hair, who he had never seen before.

“... Where should I start?”

“By the way, this is my first time waking a person in such a way.”

She returned with a look and frosty words. Tigre was at a loss and tried greeting her for the time being.

“... Good morning.”

“It is one koku (two hours) through the day.”

Tigre sat up and looked at the woman while scratching his head.

She wore a skirt and short-sleeved shirt. She had long gloves, which reached to her elbows, and boots up to her knees. At her waist was her sheathed sword. It was possible that she was taller than Tigre, and seemed to be two or three years older than him.

She was an unmistakably beautiful woman. However, her scarce expressions gave her face a hard look, leaving her with an unsociable impression.

There were three particularly eye-catching features:

Her long golden hair, tied up on the left side of her head.

Her azure eyes, which were as cold as marble.

And though she was tall and well balanced, she had ample bosoms which did not match her slender build.


Tigre inadvertently stared at the two bulges from underneath her clothes. The woman flashed her sword and threw an unkind remark at him.

“--- If you don't wake up properly, I will skewer you.”

“... I'm sorry.”

Blushing, Tigre apologized properly.

He looked about the room. It was small, containing only the bed he slept on. Sunlight shined through the window, brightly lighting the room. The stone floor was bare, and the only door led to the hallway. His bow leaned against the wall.

“Really, even with the soldiers shouting for your death, even though you are a prisoner... how can you sleep so well?”

“It's one of my special skills.”

“I suggest you hold back a little. You lack tension.”

Anger was mixed into her cold voice. Tigre looked at her in embarrassment.

“Am I really that bad?”

“To the extent that I recall my murderous intent.”

The woman turned about as she threw an answer to Tigre, pushing the door open in the meanwhile.


“Eleanora-sama has called for you. Please follow me.”

Tigre put on his leather shoes and quickly followed after her.

“It's nice to meet you. I am ---”

“This is not our first meeting, Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.”

She answered without turning around, her voice clearly rejecting him.

“My name is Limalisha. It is not necessary for you to remember it.”

Leitmeritz was a principality under Eleanora's rule, and was located in the Kingdom of Zhcted.

Eleanora's troops had arrived at the capital the day before, ten days since they had departed from Dinant. After giving a word of thanks to the soldiers, Eleanora then left the men to her adjutant, Limalisha, and left for the king's capital with several men. It was necessary to report her victory to the king.

During the return to the public capital, Tigre asked the guards a few times, and each time the response was the same.

“We have no need to respond to a prisoner of our Vanadis-sama.”


Even if he asked to meet Eleanora, it wouldn't be possible for them to accept. And regardless, there was no way for him to meet with Eleanora when she had departed for the kingdom's capital to meet the king.

Left with no other options, Tigre remained obediently quiet.

“... Guess I'll just go with the flow.”

Tigre made that decision and looked at the sky until late at night. During the day, he dozed off on the horse.

Tigre followed Limalisha down the passage of the household.

“What are you looking about so restlessly for?”

Limalisha gazed back at him in amazement, as Tigre looked about like a child.

“I was just thinking that this is a splendid building.”

“You are an earl. An aristocrat.”

“I am a poor noble. There is no point comparing my small mansion to this one," Tigre replied without a hint of shame. He continued to look about, admiring the ceiling and floor.

Until now, Tigre had never left Brune Kingdom. Now, he was in the province's imperial palace. The mosaics which decorated the floor were new to him.


The side facing the courtyard was bathed in a column of soft sunlight. In that spacious area, soldiers were training hard. It was vibrant.

“It's a good atmosphere.”

“That is because this is Eleanora-sama's official palace," Limalisha answered, as if it were natural.

Soldiers patrolled the corridors, and what he assumed were maids and chamberlains strolled about, likely performing their jobs.

Tigre thought about the girl who was like his younger sister house-sitting his mansion in his absence.

''--- Titta must be worried.''

When he saw her off, he did not expect such a thing to happen.

''--- Bertrand, and everyone else as well, I hope you all made it back safely.''

He was impatient. He wished to return to Alsace as quickly as possible. However, attempting to escape as a prisoner could be punished by death, so he could only remain silent.

They finally left the palace.


He walked for a while before Limalisha stopped her feet.

“... We are here.”

He was brought to a training ground near the rampart.

Eleanora stood with three armed soldiers amongst the forty. She was clothed in shades of blue with her longsword in its argent sheathe at her waist.

“If you make any strange movements... no, please do so. It would save us quite a bit of time and effort," Limalisha said as she let the sound of her sword escaping its sheath at her waist be heard.

Though there was an obvious hostility, Tigre simply ignored it.

''--- It can't be helped. I'm a prisoner now. We were enemies just ten days ago.''

“Hm. You came.”

Eleanora noticed Tigre and walked up to him cheerfully. She smiled to Tigre first, then Limalisha.

“You've worked hard. Still, it took you quite some time to come here.”

“I apologize. He did not wake up so easily.”

“You didn't wake up?”


Eleanora looked doubtful hearing the story of him waking up only when he had a sword in his mouth. Her shoulders trembled as she held back her laughter.

“Even as a captive, you slept so deeply.”

“He is simply dull.”

At last, Eleanora laughed and turned to Tigre.

“Tigrevurmud Vorn, it's quite a long name for a person of Brune. Does it have an origin?”

“It is an ancestral name that I was given. If you find it difficult, you may call me Tigre.”

Tigre cited the phrase he was accustomed to. He felt odd being called Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.

Eleanora's face suddenly glowed. Her dignity as a Vanadis the soldiers knew was gone; she held the expression appropriate of a girl her age instead.

“In that case, Elen is fine as well. I would prefer it if you use that name.”

Tigre stared at her involuntarily. She spoke intimately with one who was supposed to be her prisoner. To put it another way, she was being overly familiar.

“Eleanora-sama.”

Though Limalisha reproached her, she showed no sign of fear.


“He's my prisoner. This much is fine, Lim.”

“Lim?”

Hearing the name, Tigre looked at Limalisha in surprise.

“I'll tell you now, she is one of my escorts whose horse you shot down, and she was the girl who took you here from Dinant.”

Certainly, her physique matched.

Although he wasn't certain how he should react, he thanked her honestly anyway.

“Though it may be strange of me to say this, thank you for bringing me here safely.”

Tigre had heard stories of prisoners being mocked and assaulted or killed by torture in a convoy. Some died without having a single meal. However, on their way back from Dinant, Tigre had never been abused. He had even been given proper food. Though it may have been because he was Elen's captive, Limalisha -- that is, Lim -- had been the one who properly took care of him.

Lim did not respond to Tigre. She did what she had to. She hid her anger as she was being thanked by Tigre by ignoring him and facing Elen.


“Eleanora-sama, there is still work to be done today. You should finish your minor errands early."

“I know, I know.” Elen smiled bitterly and waved her hand. She faced Tigre and smiled deliberately. “I would like to clarify things first, Tigre... no, Lord Vorn. As per the treaty between our countries, you will be treated as a prisoner of war. If in fifty days time the demanded ransom has not been delivered by the Kingdom of Brune -- that is to say, if a ransom has not been paid to me -- you will formally become mine as per the agreement. What binds this contract is the name and honor of the god Radegast. Is this acceptable?”

Though it was hardly suitable, Tigre nodded reluctantly.

It was a contract held between every country on the treatment of prisoners of war. It was made to avoid abuse, humiliation, and, frankly, murder. It was a rule which allowed for negotiations between countries to advance efficiently.

“Well, you might be a bit worried about the ransom, though.”

Tigre heard the number come from Elen's mouth and stood rooted to the spot with his mouth agape.


It was a number close to three times Alsace's total yearly tax revenue.

He felt dizzy from the impact.

“... Is it possible to reduce the amount?”

“No.”

A flat response.

''--- Well, there's no reason for her to.''

In many cases, the goal of taking an enemy captive was to retrieve a ransom. It was unlikely she would decrease it so easily.

“You will live here in the imperial palace. Needless to say, any attempt to escape will be met with the death penalty.”

He was like a fish dying out of water. Tigre desperately searched his memory for the savings within his territory.

It amounted to approximately one year's worth of tax revenue, so it was hardly enough.

''--- If I could speak to Titta or Bertrand, or perhaps Sir Mashas, who is more widely known, they might be able to raise the money.''

The preparations for the ransom were, simply put, hopeless.

He felt a pain between his eyes as he thought about his gloomy future. He nearly fainted, but before it happened, Tigre somehow managed to gather strength in his legs. Supporting his body and limbs with all the strength he could muster, he looked back at Elen.


''--- I must return to Alsace.''

''I was born and raised there. It is an important land that I inherited from my father.''

''I'm worried about the soldiers' safety as well. I'm certain my people are worried.''

''And above all else, I promised Titta I would return.''

''I want to respond to their wishes.''

“So... what business do you have calling me to a place like this?” Tigre spoke with impudent words and a tone to match. Elen's crimson eyes danced happily as she looked at him with admiration.

“Of course, that was not all I called you here for.” Elen pointed to a training bow sitting along the wall. “Shoot an arrow from here and hit that target over there.”

“Is that it?”

Tigre felt that it was rather anti-climactic.

The target was three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters) away. Even for those skilled with the bow, that distance would seem like a bad joke. Shooting an arrow that far was already a challenge in and of itself; to also hit the target would make it nothing short of impossible.


But for Tigre, that distance was not a big deal.

Although he didn't know what she was planning, he decided to do this quickly.

One of the soldiers brought a bow and four arrows. The man had delicate features and beautiful, shiny black hair that reached down to his shoulders.

After Tigre received the bow and arrow from him, his eyebrows knitted slightly.

“What a terrible bow...”

The material was hardly suitable for a bow, and the condition of the grip was poor as well. The stringing, too, was badly done. There was also some warping. It was clear what their intention was.

Elen was looking at him from a distance, and, like a child, was filled with expectation.

''Is she not involved?'' Tigre wondered. ''If that's the case, it's unlikely that this is a standard bow for the Zhcted Army.''

He wasn't sure if she knew about this. An unpleasant thought crossed his mind then. Thinking back, the bows in Brune were not that great either.


''--- It can't be an issue of the maker's ability... in the first place, there is no such profession as a bow craftsman.''

Tigre's bow was made by his father when he was small. The materials were chosen according to the knowledge and technology of other countries, such as Zchted.

The accuracy of his arrow was not solely due to Tigre's skill, but the quality of the tool as well.

While pretending to check the condition of the bow, he glanced peripherally at the soldier who passed him the bow, and saw him and several other soldiers grinning.

Angered, a murmur leaked from Tigre's mouth.

“Such a petty trick," he said.

“What is it?”

Lim was standing nearby, looking at him dubiously. Apparently, she had not heard his words. Still, complaining about the quality of the bow as a prisoner of war was cumbersome.

“I wish to confirm something," said Tigre. "It is not necessary for me to hit the target with all four arrows; only one, correct?”

“That is a rather timid remark for a person who killed my horse with a single arrow.”

Though she thought Tigre was being sarcastic, she remained expressionless. There was no sign of malice. It seemed that she had not yet noticed that the bow was inferior.


“If your physical condition is poor, I can tell Eleanora-sama to do this another day.”

“No, I will do it," Tigre answered in a strong tone. He set the bow in his hand. “However, please allow me to hit the target with only one arrow. I am not as confident with an unfamiliar bow.”

Lim bowed in assent and walked over to Elen. After speaking a few words, Elen looked at him without any dissatisfaction, as though she were saying, "Please begin."

Tigre nocked the first arrow and released it.

It stalled before it reached the target, falling to the ground less than two hundred alsin away. Laughter and sneers were heard amongst the soldiers.

He did not mind it and released the next arrow.

The hum of the arrow sounded as it flew in an arc. It hit the castle wall, far from the target.

The soldiers laughed loudly. Some shook their shoulders; others looked at him with pity or contempt. Many eyes were piercing Tigre.

“Are you doing this seriously?” Lim said irritably. She looked at Elen.


Elen appeared troubled as she watched Tigre, like a student who had been scolded by a teacher, though she was trying to properly solve the problem.

“I'll do it,” Tigre replied and nocked the third arrow.

“Hey, are you still continuing? You're really willing to make a spectacle of yourself, still?”

“Maybe you'd like a replacement. Though he can reach the target, he can't even shoot straight.”

“Vanadis-sama, did you really make a man like this your captive?”

“This is quite a splendid show. I wonder if something new will be shown tomorrow.”

Though the soldiers deliberately spoke ill, Tigre was not bothered.

He was accustomed to such abuse. He had received mental abuse incomparable to this many times.

He took a deep breath and looked at the sky for a change of pace, moving his neck around.

In Tigre's vision was a black shadow.

''--- What is that?''

His neck stopped moving and he looked closely.


In an instant, he understood the identity of the shadow. Chills ran down Tigre's spine as he screamed at Elen.

“Get down!”

''--- An arbalest...!''

It was different from the bow Tigre used. It was a mechanical bow; the bowstring was pulled by a winch and shot with a trigger.

It was difficult to maintain and prone to failure, but it could reach three-hundred-fifty alsin (approximately three-hundred-fifty meters) at maximum and could easily pass through shields and armor with enough force for the bolt to come out the other side.

The black shadow on the rampart held one.

A thick bolt was released from the arbalest.

The roar of air sped straight toward Elen. She had no time to avoid it.

However, Elen did not panic, nor did she move from her spot.

“--- Arifal!”

Muttering those words like a spell, the sword at her waist gave off a spark, cutting the atmosphere and scattering particles of silver.

In a moment, the air rapidly swelled, like an explosion. A storm raged about her.


Her long hair of silver-white danced with the wind. The bolt, entwined in the intense storm, was thrown far off orbit.

It passed through the empty space away from her and fell to the ground weakly.

''--- What just happened?''

Tigre stared in blank surprise at Elen.

It was not a coincidence; that was impossible.

While learning the bow, Tigre learned about the arbalest. He was knowledgeable about the power of the thick bolts. A wind could not conveniently blow it out of its orbit.

“Capture that man!”

Lim shouted. All the soldiers held a bow, however, far from hitting the shadow, they could not even reach the rampart.

The people with a sword or spear ran to the rampart.

The soldier guarding the wall, in response to the commotion, began chasing the shadow.

''--- This has nothing to do with me.''

Tigre muttered to himself. Though he shouted on reflex, he was not Elen's subordinate, nor was he a man of this city.

While thinking that, suddenly, Tigre remembered his first meeting with Elen.


“You're skilled.”

She smiled as she said so.

''Titta, Bertrand and his men, my late father, when was I last praised for my bow arm?''

“Should I capture him alive?”

Nocking the arrow, Tigre asked Lim in a flat tone.

“Is this really a situation where you can say that...?”

Grasping the sword with her hand until it went white, Lim stared at the shadow on the rampart in chagrin. She wanted to lead the soldiers, but could not leave Elen's side.

The shadow ran quickly across the wall. Once he reached the tower, he could quickly escape outside.

“I understand. I'll get his foot.”

Tigre said those words as he strongly drew his bow to the limit.

After shooting the previous two arrows, he understood its condition perfectly.

''--- At this distance, I won't miss.''

Lim looked at him in doubt.

Then her gaze changed to one of surprise.


The bowstring trembled.

The arrow resounded with a sharp buzz as it drew a large arc, piercing the leg of the shadow.

The shadow fell on the rampart and was caught by the soldiers who finally caught up.

“What... was that?”

One of the soldiers on the rampart looked down at Tigre. No other words would come out.

The other soldiers, too, looked at Tigre in amazement.

“Impossible. He shot over three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters) from that position to the rampart...”

“No, if you think about the height of the tower, it could be even more. No way.”

“I can't believe it... Is that a human skill, or can all people of Brune do this?”

Though the voices showed astonishment and shock, there was clearly admiration in them as well.

There were those rooted to the spot, others looked to the sky, and some covered their forehead with their hand and recited the names of the Gods.

The malice in the training area no longer remained.

“He did something like that... with such a terrible bow...”

The soldiers who passed Tigre the bow were pale with fear.


“--- You got me.”

Tigre shrugged his shoulders. Though he held no emotions in his chest anymore, he was puzzled. He noticed he was bathed in gazes all at once.

The fourth arrow remained in his hand. Though Lim had seen it before, she did not look any differently than the other soldiers. When his eyes met hers, he understood her body was tense.

He looked back at Elen.

“I'll ask you now. What about the fourth shot?”

“It's enough with this. I'd rather not lose this.”

Elen's argent hair moved gently as she shook her head.

“You did well.”

Elen smiled at Tigre with sincerity, her sword still sheathed at her waist. A wind blew from somewhere, tickling Tigre's hair.

''--- Just now...''

Tigre placed his hand in his hair involuntarily. He thought Elen had somehow used her longsword to produce the wind.

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| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_01_Chapter3_-_MTL|Chapter 3 - MTL]]
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Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume 01 Chapter2 - MTL

2017-03-01T06:29:58Z

An Orange Peon: /* Leitmeritz */

<noinclude>{{MTL-old}}</noinclude>
=== Leitmeritz ===

He was having a bad dream.

''Our forces were gathered on a small hill.''

''It was meal time. The soldiers put a pot that was as deep as a barrel on a mound, which had been turned into a stove. They were preparing a fish stew.''

''There was a slight ridge before the Dinant Plains, which plateaued with no end in sight.''

''There were twenty thousand Brune soldiers sharing a meal with his own troops. Thousands of streams of heat floated upward, and the soldiers seemed as though they were imprisoned in the steam.''

Tigre and Mashas were talking while stirring the food in the pot when a few young men appeared in front of their eyes with the colliding sound of their armor.

“So you came as well, Vorn.”

The man who said that with an openly mocking tone was Zion Thenardier.

The Thenardier house held the title of Duke. It was a long and distinguished family incomparable to the Vorn household. It had many aristocrats who held enormous power, and the territory it owned was wide. It was said that the number of soldiers mobilized by their household could reach ten thousand. Even in this war, which had been organized in a haste, they commanded a force four thousand strong. Zion was the Thenardier family's eldest son and heir. He was currently 17 years old. Though he wore decorated armor and bore a splendid sword at his waist in an imposing manner worthy of his lineage, he always had an expression as though he was looking down on others. At his back was an entourage of young men flattering him. Like Zion, they were aristocrats born into families holding the rank of marquis or duke. They wore glittering armor with their respective household's crest. They looked at Tigre with a grimace, and did not seem to harbor any good intentions.


Tigre could not simply ignore them, and felt obliged to show a minimal courtesy.

“... I am here to serve as His Majesty's loyal subject, so I came here as quickly as possible.”

“Though it's quite admirable to say that, I'm not sure how helpful you'll be.”

After Zion ridiculed Tigre, the laughter of the other nobles overlapped with his own. Perhaps it was because their ages were similar, but Zion frequently made fun of Tigre in such a manner.

“I told you before, your family has merely hunted for four or five generations. I can hardly recognize you as a noble.”

He spat out those words arrogantly and immediately tried to stomp Tigre's bow, which was laying on the ground.

Tigre moved reflexively, picking up his bow as quickly as a wild beast.


''“Uwah!”''

Zion stumbled, losing his balance and falling hard on the ground, taking one of his followers down with him.

“How dare you do that to Master Zion!”

To the enraged followers who roared at him, Tigre yelled back:

“I was protecting my bow!”

“A bow? If it's a bow, so what, you coward!”

“That's right. There's nothing wrong in breaking this crap. You should be on the front lines with a sword!”

“I'm sure that the God of War, Trigraf, would never give his blessings to someone like you!”

The other followers expressed their approval one after another. Tigre grit his teeth in anger.

In the Brune Kingdom, their complaints were acceptable.

''“The bow is the weapon of a coward who does not have the courage to expose his body before a naked blade.”''

Such train of thoughts were deeply rooted in the Brune Army, which made little use of the bow. Not only were the achievements of archers disregarded, but archers in general were as well.

''“Archers are all drafted hunters, farmers who do not own land, people who have committed a serious crime as a warrior -- or those who aren't skilled with the sword or the spear, to fill out the ranks."''


Due to such a status quo, those who used bows, even as soldiers, were regarded as criminals and useless failures that were looked down upon.

Although Tigre's ancestor had been presented with territory for hunting and the title of earl for his distinguished military services, Mashas had told him, "If he hadn't been a hunter, he'd probably have been promoted to an even higher rank."

“Calm down, you guys.”

With some help, Zion managed to stand up, and put a stop to his followers' actions. Though they were reluctant, they stopped blaming Tigre.

Zion put on an act while getting rid of the dust on his armor. He crossed his arms and laughed scornfully at Tigre.

"The reason why you stick to the bow is because you can't handle a sword or a spear, right? You probably think that if you head into the battlefield with a bow, it would barely be enough to pretend at being a soldier, right?"

Tigre remained silent. It was true he was poor with the sword and spear. If he objected here, Zion would ask him to take up a sword or a spear and demonstrate his skills, and laugh at him. This had already happened once before.

Zion did not stop taunting him there.

“To begin with, you are an earl of the Kingdom of Brune, yet you can't use a sword or a spear and plan to head to the battlefield without wearing armor. Aren't you ashamed? Guys, look at his shabby appearance. He has a leather plate, leather gauntlets and even leather leggings. All his equipment is made of leather. At most, his mantle is decent, but if that's the only presentable part, then I really feel sad about the financial situation of his territory.”


“--- Lord Zion.”

Mashas, who had remained silent until then, spoke sullenly.

“Your words have been insightful. However, since you said so much at once, surely you have become thirsty.”

He continued while pointing in a certain direction.

“There's some rayion wine being distributed over there. Why not try drinking some, to relieve your thirst?”

Using a polite and humble tone, Mashas's attitude pressured the other side.

The dignity of this old knight, who had just turned 55, was intimidating to Zion.

Zion grunted and stepped back involuntarily as he became aware that he forgot his manners. He then snorted and turned around.

“Hey, let's go.”

Tigre watched Zion and the others walk away, and thanked Mashas after checking his bow's condition.

“Thank you. You saved me.”

“It's nothing. I should be the one to apologize. It would have been better if I had intervened earlier, but I couldn't find an opportunity to barge in.”


From Zion's perspective, Mashas was a weak aristocrat no different from Tigre. If the former didn't get the timing right, he would simply snort with laughter.

While returning to stir the pan, Mashas looked about the area casually.

Whether soldier or aristocrat, all were concentrated on their pots, or were taking care of their arms while entertaining themselves with chatter. Not a single person looked their way, and that indifference reached an unnatural state.

They were all afraid of Zion, so they avoided relations with Tigre.

“I now understand that handling the sword and spear is not proof of courage.”

Mashas spoke in irony. Tigre wanted to say something to him, but shut his mouth at the end. Not far away, the barely audible voices of nobles gathered together reached his ears.

“By the way, did you hear about what Duke Ganelon did?”

“Are you talking about him increasing taxes, using war preparations as an excuse?”

“That's right. If there is a young girl in a house that's not paying taxes, she will be taken away. If there isn't one, then the house is set on fire.”

“It's really enviable. I'd like to have the authority to place a temporary tax too.”


The aristocrat didn't look resentful. He was simply grumbling in dissatisfaction.

Duke Ganelon was one of the most influential nobles of Brune Kingdom, on par with Thenardier. There were many powerful aristocrats amongst his relatives as well. His power, too, was something not even the king could ignore.

When it came to territory, Brune nobles were allowed to govern pieces of land, but for certain privileges, such as setting taxes, the permission of the king was necessary.

Duke Ganelon not only went against this rule and imposed taxes without consulting the king, but also did these inhuman things in his territory. Yet, the king still tolerated it.

“For a story like that, Duke Thenardier is not inferior. He ordered his people to stop drinking for as long as the war goes on. They had to hand over all of their alcohol as an oath to the gods."

“I see. But it's not hard to hide or make alcohol. What happens to those who are found guilty of violating the ban?”

"The part about kidnapping the family's daughters is similar to Ganelon's method, but as a warning I hear that swords are given to the husband and wife or to the father and son, and they're made to kill each other with it. It seems that they even bet on who will win."

Tigre clenched his fist after hearing the conversation.

Mashas placed a wrinkled hand on Tigre's knee as he was about to stand up.


“Calm down.”

“How can I possibly remain calm!?”

“Though it may be harsh of me to say this, nothing would change, even if you said something.”

He was right. Tigre sat back down, but his rage was still boiling inside him.

He desperately ground his teeth and held his tongue in order to restrain himself from acting on impulse.

He was angry because Ganelon and Thenardier did not regard the people within their dominion as humans. They did not hesitate in their cruelty. He was angry at the men who spoke lightly of such cruel matters and those who overlooked such things without any scruple. Finally, he was angry at his own powerlessness, as he knew he could do nothing.

“The story just now... is it true?”

“Though it is a rumor, there have been many others similar to this one. Still, the people in question have not denied it. You rarely come to the capital, so it's no wonder you didn't know about this.”

Maybe this really couldn't be helped.

Tigre hardly left his territory, the land of Alsace.

He had no desire to rise in the world and gain fame or glory, nor did he have any ambition. That's why he was not interested in his status as an aristocrat.

Plus, in his mind, he had no intention of dealing with Zion, who was one of the sons of the nobles.

“His Majesty still tolerates such behavior...?” he asked fearfully.


He did not want to believe it.

“Certainly, His Majesty has said nothing to them at the present.”

Mashas's stocky body trembled as he shook his head grumpily.

“I believe His Majesty has his own matters to settle. One day, if His Majesty can't control them anymore, at least Prince Regnas should...”

Mashas's eyes clung to the slender hope. Suddenly, he looked up and stared at Tigre. Distracted, Tigre saw Mashas's finger coming towards him, aiming at his mouth, and poking him there.

“Fue...?”

It was too abrupt. No words could come out from Tigre's mouth.

Furthermore, the hand blocking his mouth was kind of cold, and had an indescribable iron taste.

<center><big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big></center>

When he awoke, a dim ceiling was in Tigre's view.

“--- So you finally woke up.”

Tigre heard a voice which lacked intonation. Immediately after that, he felt something withdrawn from his mouth.

What left his mouth was a sword.


The owner of this sword was a woman with golden hair, who he had never seen before.

“... Where should I start?”

“By the way, this is my first time waking a person in such a way.”

She returned with a look and frosty words. Tigre was at a loss and tried greeting her for the time being.

“... Good morning.”

“It is one koku (two hours) through the day.”

Tigre sat up and looked at the woman while scratching his head.

She wore a skirt and short-sleeved shirt. She had long gloves, which reached to her elbows, and boots up to her knees. At her waist was her sheathed sword. It was possible that she was taller than Tigre, and seemed to be two or three years older than him.

She was an unmistakably beautiful woman. However, her scarce expressions gave her face a hard look, leaving her with an unsociable impression.

There were three particularly eye-catching features:

Her long golden hair, tied up on the left side of her head.

Her azure eyes, which were as cold as marble.

And though she was tall and well balanced, she had ample bosoms which did not match her slender build.


Tigre inadvertently stared at the two bulges from underneath her clothes. The woman flashed her sword and threw an unkind remark at him.

“--- If you don't wake up properly, I will skewer you.”

“... I'm sorry.”

Blushing, Tigre apologized properly.

He looked about the room. It was small, containing only the bed he slept on. Sunlight shined through the window, brightly lighting the room. The stone floor was bare, and the only door led to the hallway. His bow leaned against the wall.

“Really, even with the soldiers shouting for your death, even though you are a prisoner... how can you sleep so well?”

“It's one of my special skills.”

“I suggest you hold back a little. You lack tension.”

Anger was mixed into her cold voice. Tigre looked at her in embarrassment.

“Am I really that bad?”

“To the extent that I recall my murderous intent.”

The woman turned about as she threw an answer to Tigre, pushing the door open in the meanwhile.


“Eleanora-sama has called for you. Please follow me.”

Tigre put on his leather shoes and quickly followed after her.

“It's nice to meet you. I am ---”

“This is not our first meeting, Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.”

She answered without turning around, her voice clearly rejecting him.

“My name is Limalisha. It is not necessary for you to remember it.”

Leitmeritz was a principality under Eleanora's rule, and was located in the Kingdom of Zhcted.

Eleanora's troops had arrived at the capital the day before, ten days since they had departed from Dinant. After giving a word of thanks to the soldiers, Eleanora then left the men to her adjutant, Limalisha, and left for the king's capital with several men. It was necessary to report her victory to the king.

During the return to the public capital, Tigre asked the guards a few times, and each time the response was the same.

“We have no need to respond to a prisoner of our Vanadis-sama.”


Even if he asked to meet Eleanora, it wouldn't be possible for them to accept. And regardless, there was no way for him to meet with Eleanora when she had departed for the kingdom's capital to meet the king.

Left with no other options, Tigre remained obediently quiet.

“... Guess I'll just go with the flow.”

Tigre made that decision and looked at the sky until late at night. During the day, he dozed off on the horse.

Tigre followed Limalisha down the passage of the household.

“What are you looking about so restlessly for?”

Limalisha gazed back at him in amazement, as Tigre looked about like a child.

“I was just thinking that this is a splendid building.”

“You are an earl. An aristocrat.”

“I am a poor noble. There is no point comparing my small mansion to this one," Tigre replied without a hint of shame. He continued to look about, admiring the ceiling and floor.

Until now, Tigre had never left Brune Kingdom. Now, he was in the province's imperial palace. The mosaics which decorated the floor were new to him.


The side facing the courtyard was bathed in a column of soft sunlight. In that spacious area, soldiers were training hard. It was vibrant.

“It's a good atmosphere.”

“That is because this is Eleanora-sama's official palace," Limalisha answered, as if it were natural.

Soldiers patrolled the corridors, and what he assumed were maids and chamberlains strolled about, likely performing their jobs.

Tigre thought about the girl who was like his younger sister house-sitting his mansion in his absence.

''--- Titta must be worried.''

When he saw her off, he did not expect such a thing to happen.

''--- Bertrand, and everyone else as well, I hope you all made it back safely.''

He was impatient. He wished to return to Alsace as quickly as possible. However, attempting to escape as a prisoner could be punished by death, so he could only remain silent.

They finally left the palace.


He walked for a while before Limalisha stopped her feet.

“... We are here.”

He was brought to a training ground near the rampart.

Eleanora stood with three armed soldiers amongst the forty. She was clothed in shades of blue with her longsword in its argent sheathe at her waist.

“If you make any strange movements... no, please do so. It would save us quite a bit of time and effort," Limalisha said as she let the sound of her sword escaping its sheath at her waist be heard.

Though there was an obvious hostility, Tigre simply ignored it.

''--- It can't be helped. I'm a prisoner now. We were enemies just ten days ago.''

“Hm. You came.”

Eleanora noticed Tigre and walked up to him cheerfully. She smiled to Tigre first, then Limalisha.

“You've worked hard. Still, it took you quite some time to come here.”

“I apologize. He did not wake up so easily.”

“You didn't wake up?”


Eleanora looked doubtful hearing the story of him waking up only when he had a sword in his mouth. Her shoulders trembled as she held back her laughter.

“Even as a captive, you slept so deeply.”

“He is simply dull.”

At last, Eleanora laughed and turned to Tigre.

“Tigrevurmud Vorn, it's quite a long name for a person of Brune. Does it have an origin?”

“It is an ancestral name that I was given. If you find it difficult, you may call me Tigre.”

Tigre cited the phrase he was accustomed to. He felt odd being called Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.

Eleanora's face suddenly glowed. Her dignity as a Vanadis the soldiers knew was gone; she held the expression appropriate of a girl her age instead.

“In that case, Elen is fine as well. I would prefer it if you use that name.”

Tigre stared at her involuntarily. She spoke intimately with one who was supposed to be her prisoner. To put it another way, she was being overly familiar.

“Eleanora-sama.”

Though Limalisha reproached her, she showed no sign of fear.


“He's my prisoner. This much is fine, Lim.”

“Lim?”

Hearing the name, Tigre looked at Limalisha in surprise.

“I'll tell you now, she is one of my escorts whose horse you shot down, and she was the girl who took you here from Dinant.”

Certainly, her physique matched.

Although he wasn't certain how he should react, he thanked her honestly anyway.

“Though it may be strange of me to say this, thank you for bringing me here safely.”

Tigre had heard stories of prisoners being mocked and assaulted or killed by torture in a convoy. Some died without having a single meal. However, on their way back from Dinant, Tigre had never been abused. He had even been given proper food. Though it may have been because he was Elen's captive, Limalisha -- that is, Lim -- had been the one who properly took care of him.

Lim did not respond to Tigre. She did what she had to. She hid her anger as she was being thanked by Tigre by ignoring him and facing Elen.


“Eleanora-sama, there is still work to be done today. You should finish your minor errands early."

“I know, I know.” Elen smiled bitterly and waved her hand. She faced Tigre and smiled deliberately. “I would like to clarify things first, Tigre... no, Lord Vorn. As per the treaty between our countries, you will be treated as a prisoner of war. If in fifty days time the demanded ransom has not been delivered by the Kingdom of Brune -- that is to say, if a ransom has not been paid to me -- you will formally become mine as per the agreement. What binds this contract is the name and honor of the god Radegast. Is this acceptable?”

Though it was hardly suitable, Tigre nodded reluctantly.

It was a contract held between every country on the treatment of prisoners of war. It was made to avoid abuse, humiliation, and, frankly, murder. It was a rule which allowed for negotiations between countries to advance efficiently.

“Well, you might be a bit worried about the ransom, though.”

Tigre heard the number come from Elen's mouth and stood rooted to the spot with his mouth agape.


It was a number close to three times Alsace's total yearly tax revenue.

He felt dizzy from the impact.

“... Is it possible to reduce the amount?”

“No.”

A flat response.

''--- Well, there's no reason for her to.''

In many cases, the goal of taking an enemy captive was to retrieve a ransom. It was unlikely she would decrease it so easily.

“You will live here in the imperial palace. Needless to say, any attempt to escape will be met with the death penalty.”

He was like a fish dying out of water. Tigre desperately searched his memory for the savings within his territory.

It amounted to approximately one year's worth of tax revenue, so it was hardly enough.

''--- If I could speak to Titta or Bertrand, or perhaps Sir Mashas, who is more widely known, they might be able to raise the money.''

The preparations for the ransom were, simply put, hopeless.

He felt a pain between his eyes as he thought about his gloomy future. He nearly fainted, but before it happened, Tigre somehow managed to gather strength in his legs. Supporting his body and limbs with all the strength he could muster, he looked back at Elen.


''--- I must return to Alsace.''

''I was born and raised there. It is an important land that I inherited from my father.''

''I'm worried about the soldiers' safety as well. I'm certain my people are worried.''

''And above all else, I promised Titta I would return.''

''I want to respond to their wishes.''

“So... what business do you have calling me to a place like this?” Tigre spoke with impudent words and a tone to match. Elen's crimson eyes danced happily as she looked at him with admiration.

“Of course, that was not all I called you here for.” Elen pointed to a training bow sitting along the wall. “Shoot an arrow from here and hit that target over there.”

“Is that it?”

Tigre felt that it was rather anti-climactic.

The target was three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters) away. Even for those skilled with the bow, that distance would seem like a bad joke. Shooting an arrow that far was already a challenge in and of itself; to also hit the target would make it nothing short of impossible.


But for Tigre, that distance was not a big deal.

Although he didn't know what she was planning, he decided to do this quickly.

One of the soldiers brought a bow and four arrows. The man had delicate features and beautiful, shiny black hair that reached down to his shoulders.

After Tigre received the bow and arrow from him, his eyebrows knitted slightly.

“What a terrible bow...”

The material was hardly suitable for a bow, and the condition of the grip was poor as well. The stringing, too, was badly done. There was also some warping. It was clear what their intention was.

Elen was looking at him from a distance, and, like a child, was filled with expectation.

''Is she not involved?'' Tigre wondered. ''If that's the case, it's unlikely that this is a standard bow for the Zhcted Army.''

He wasn't sure if she knew about this. An unpleasant thought crossed his mind then. Thinking back, the bows in Brune were not that great either.


''--- It can't be an issue of the maker's ability... in the first place, there is no such profession as a bow craftsman.''

Tigre's bow was made by his father when he was small. The materials were chosen according to the knowledge and technology of other countries, such as Zchted.

The accuracy of his arrow was not solely due to Tigre's skill, but the quality of the tool as well.

While pretending to check the condition of the bow, he glanced peripherally at the soldier who passed him the bow, and saw him and several other soldiers grinning.

Angered, a murmur leaked from Tigre's mouth.

“Such a petty trick," he said.

“What is it?”

Lim was standing nearby, looking at him dubiously. Apparently, she had not heard his words. Still, complaining about the quality of the bow as a prisoner of war was cumbersome.

“I wish to confirm something," said Tigre. "It is not necessary for me to hit the target with all four arrows; only one, correct?”

“That is a rather timid remark for a person who killed my horse with a single arrow.”

Though she thought Tigre was being sarcastic, she remained expressionless. There was no sign of malice. It seemed that she had not yet noticed that the bow was inferior.


“If your physical condition is poor, I can tell Eleanora-sama to do this another day.”

“No, I will do it," Tigre answered in a strong tone. He set the bow in his hand. “However, please allow me to hit the target with only one arrow. I am not as confident with an unfamiliar bow.”

Lim bowed in assent and walked over to Elen. After speaking a few words, Elen looked at him without any dissatisfaction, as though she were saying, "Please begin."

Tigre nocked the first arrow and released it.

It stalled before it reached the target, falling to the ground less than two hundred alsin away. Laughter and sneers were heard amongst the soldiers.

He did not mind it and released the next arrow.

The hum of the arrow sounded as it flew in an arc. It hit the castle wall, far from the target.

The soldiers laughed loudly. Some shook their shoulders; others looked at him with pity or contempt. Many eyes were piercing Tigre.

“Are you doing this seriously?” Lim said irritably. She looked at Elen.


Elen looked troubled as she watched him, as though she had been scolded by a teacher, though she was trying to properly solve the problem.

“I'll do it,” Tigre replied and nocked the third arrow.

“Hey, are you still continuing? You're really willing to make a spectacle of yourself, still?”

“Maybe you'd like a replacement. Though he can reach the target, he can't even shoot straight.”

“Vanadis-sama, did you really make a man like this your captive?”

“This is quite a splendid show. I wonder if something new will be shown tomorrow.”

Though the soldiers deliberately spoke ill, Tigre was not bothered.

He was accustomed to such abuse. He had received mental abuse incomparable to this many times.

He took a deep breath and looked at the sky for a change of pace, moving his neck around.

In Tigre's vision was a black shadow.

''--- What is that?''

His neck stopped moving and he looked closely.


In an instant, he understood the identity of the shadow. Chills ran down Tigre's spine as he screamed at Elen.

“Get down!”

''--- An arbalest...!''

It was different from the bow Tigre used. It was a mechanical bow; the bowstring was pulled by a winch and shot with a trigger.

It was difficult to maintain and prone to failure, but it could reach three-hundred-fifty alsin (approximately three-hundred-fifty meters) at maximum and could easily pass through shields and armor with enough force for the bolt to come out the other side.

The black shadow on the rampart held one.

A thick bolt was released from the arbalest.

The roar of air sped straight toward Elen. She had no time to avoid it.

However, Elen did not panic, nor did she move from her spot.

“--- Arifal!”

Muttering those words like a spell, the sword at her waist gave off a spark, cutting the atmosphere and scattering particles of silver.

In a moment, the air rapidly swelled, like an explosion. A storm raged about her.


Her long hair of silver-white danced with the wind. The bolt, entwined in the intense storm, was thrown far off orbit.

It passed through the empty space away from her and fell to the ground weakly.

''--- What just happened?''

Tigre stared in blank surprise at Elen.

It was not a coincidence; that was impossible.

While learning the bow, Tigre learned about the arbalest. He was knowledgeable about the power of the thick bolts. A wind could not conveniently blow it out of its orbit.

“Capture that man!”

Lim shouted. All the soldiers held a bow, however, far from hitting the shadow, they could not even reach the rampart.

The people with a sword or spear ran to the rampart.

The soldier guarding the wall, in response to the commotion, began chasing the shadow.

''--- This has nothing to do with me.''

Tigre muttered to himself. Though he shouted on reflex, he was not Elen's subordinate, nor was he a man of this city.

While thinking that, suddenly, Tigre remembered his first meeting with Elen.


“You're skilled.”

She smiled as she said so.

''Titta, Bertrand and his men, my late father, when was I last praised for my bow arm?''

“Should I capture him alive?”

Nocking the arrow, Tigre asked Lim in a flat tone.

“Is this really a situation where you can say that...?”

Grasping the sword with her hand until it went white, Lim stared at the shadow on the rampart in chagrin. She wanted to lead the soldiers, but could not leave Elen's side.

The shadow ran quickly across the wall. Once he reached the tower, he could quickly escape outside.

“I understand. I'll get his foot.”

Tigre said those words as he strongly drew his bow to the limit.

After shooting the previous two arrows, he understood its condition perfectly.

''--- At this distance, I won't miss.''

Lim looked at him in doubt.

Then her gaze changed to one of surprise.


The bowstring trembled.

The arrow resounded with a sharp buzz as it drew a large arc, piercing the leg of the shadow.

The shadow fell on the rampart and was caught by the soldiers who finally caught up.

“What... was that?”

One of the soldiers on the rampart looked down at Tigre. No other words would come out.

The other soldiers, too, looked at Tigre in amazement.

“Impossible. He shot over three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters) from that position to the rampart...”

“No, if you think about the height of the tower, it could be even more. No way.”

“I can't believe it... Is that a human skill, or can all people of Brune do this?”

Though the voices showed astonishment and shock, there was clearly admiration in them as well.

There were those rooted to the spot, others looked to the sky, and some covered their forehead with their hand and recited the names of the Gods.

The malice in the training area no longer remained.

“He did something like that... with such a terrible bow...”

The soldiers who passed Tigre the bow were pale with fear.


“--- You got me.”

Tigre shrugged his shoulders. Though he held no emotions in his chest anymore, he was puzzled. He noticed he was bathed in gazes all at once.

The fourth arrow remained in his hand. Though Lim had seen it before, she did not look any differently than the other soldiers. When his eyes met hers, he understood her body was tense.

He looked back at Elen.

“I'll ask you now. What about the fourth shot?”

“It's enough with this. I'd rather not lose this.”

Elen's argent hair moved gently as she shook her head.

“You did well.”

Elen smiled at Tigre with sincerity, her sword still sheathed at her waist. A wind blew from somewhere, tickling Tigre's hair.

''--- Just now...''

Tigre placed his hand in his hair involuntarily. He thought Elen had somehow used her longsword to produce the wind.

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| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_01_Chapter3_-_MTL|Chapter 3 - MTL]]
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</noinclude>

Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume 01 Chapter2 - MTL

2017-02-28T09:26:41Z

An Orange Peon: /* Leitmeritz */

<noinclude>{{MTL-old}}</noinclude>
=== Leitmeritz ===

He was having a bad dream.

''Our forces were gathered on a small hill.''

''It was meal time. The soldiers put a pot that was as deep as a barrel on a mound, which had been turned into a stove. They were preparing a fish stew.''

''There was a slight ridge before the Dinant Plains, which plateaued with no end in sight.''

''There were twenty thousand Brune soldiers sharing a meal with his own troops. Thousands of streams of heat floated upward, and the soldiers seemed as though they were imprisoned in the steam.''

Tigre and Mashas were talking while stirring the food in the pot when a few young men appeared in front of their eyes with the colliding sound of their armor.

“So you came as well, Vorn.”

The man who said that with an openly mocking tone was Zion Thenardier.

The Thenardier house held the title of Duke. It was a long and distinguished family incomparable to the Vorn household. It had many aristocrats who held enormous power, and the territory it owned was wide. It was said that the number of soldiers mobilized by their household could reach ten thousand. Even in this war, which had been organized in a haste, they commanded a force four thousand strong. Zion was the Thenardier family's eldest son and heir. He was currently 17 years old. Though he wore decorated armor and bore a splendid sword at his waist in an imposing manner worthy of his lineage, he always had an expression as though he was looking down on others. At his back was an entourage of young men flattering him. Like Zion, they were aristocrats born into families holding the rank of marquis or duke. They wore glittering armor with their respective household's crest. They looked at Tigre with a grimace, and did not seem to harbor any good intentions.


Tigre could not simply ignore them, and felt obliged to show a minimal courtesy.

“... I am here to serve as His Majesty's loyal subject, so I came here as quickly as possible.”

“Though it's quite admirable to say that, I'm not sure how helpful you'll be.”

After Zion ridiculed Tigre, the laughter of the other nobles overlapped with his own. Perhaps it was because their ages were similar, but Zion frequently made fun of Tigre in such a manner.

“I told you before, your family has merely hunted for four or five generations. I can hardly recognize you as a noble.”

He spat out those words arrogantly and immediately tried to stomp Tigre's bow, which was laying on the ground.

Tigre moved reflexively, picking up his bow as quickly as a wild beast.


''“Uwah!”''

Zion stumbled, losing his balance and falling hard on the ground, taking one of his followers down with him.

“How dare you do that to Master Zion!”

To the enraged followers who roared at him, Tigre yelled back:

“I was protecting my bow!”

“A bow? If it's a bow, so what, you coward!”

“That's right. There's nothing wrong in breaking this crap. You should be on the front lines with a sword!”

“I'm sure that the God of War, Trigraf, would never give his blessings to someone like you!”

The other followers expressed their approval one after another. Tigre grit his teeth in anger.

In the Brune Kingdom, their complaints were acceptable.

''“The bow is the weapon of a coward who does not have the courage to expose his body before a naked blade.”''

Such train of thoughts were deeply rooted in the Brune Army, which made little use of the bow. Not only were the achievements of archers disregarded, but archers in general were as well.

''“Archers are all drafted hunters, farmers who do not own land, people who have committed a serious crime as a warrior -- or those who aren't skilled with the sword or the spear, to fill out the ranks."''


Due to such a status quo, those who used bows, even as soldiers, were regarded as criminals and useless failures that were looked down upon.

Although Tigre's ancestor had been presented with territory for hunting and the title of earl for his distinguished military services, Mashas had told him, "If he hadn't been a hunter, he'd probably have been promoted to an even higher rank."

“Calm down, you guys.”

With some help, Zion managed to stand up, and put a stop to his followers' actions. Though they were reluctant, they stopped blaming Tigre.

Zion put on an act while getting rid of the dust on his armor. He crossed his arms and laughed scornfully at Tigre.

"The reason why you stick to the bow is because you can't handle a sword or a spear, right? You probably think that if you head into the battlefield with a bow, it would barely be enough to pretend at being a soldier, right?"

Tigre remained silent. It was true he was poor with the sword and spear. If he objected here, Zion would ask him to take up a sword or a spear and demonstrate his skills, and laugh at him. This had already happened once before.

Zion did not stop taunting him there.

“To begin with, you are an earl of the Kingdom of Brune, yet you can't use a sword or a spear and plan to head to the battlefield without wearing armor. Aren't you ashamed? Guys, look at his shabby appearance. He has a leather plate, leather gauntlets and even leather leggings. All his equipment is made of leather. At most, his mantle is decent, but if that's the only presentable part, then I really feel sad about the financial situation of his territory.”


“--- Lord Zion.”

Mashas, who had remained silent until then, spoke sullenly.

“Your words have been insightful. However, since you said so much at once, surely you have become thirsty.”

He continued while pointing in a certain direction.

“There's some rayion wine being distributed over there. Why not try drinking some, to relieve your thirst?”

Using a polite and humble tone, Mashas's attitude pressured the other side.

The dignity of this old knight, who had just turned 55, was intimidating to Zion.

Zion grunted and stepped back involuntarily as he became aware that he forgot his manners. He then snorted and turned around.

“Hey, let's go.”

Tigre watched Zion and the others walk away, and thanked Mashas after checking his bow's condition.

“Thank you. You saved me.”

“It's nothing. I should be the one to apologize. It would have been better if I had intervened earlier, but I couldn't find an opportunity to barge in.”


From Zion's perspective, Mashas was a weak aristocrat no different from Tigre. If the former didn't get the timing right, he would simply snort with laughter.

While returning to stir the pan, Mashas looked about the area casually.

Whether soldier or aristocrat, all were concentrated on their pots, or were taking care of their arms while entertaining themselves with chatter. Not a single person looked their way, and that indifference reached an unnatural state.

They were all afraid of Zion, so they avoided relations with Tigre.

“I now understand that handling the sword and spear is not proof of courage.”

Mashas spoke in irony. Tigre wanted to say something to him, but shut his mouth at the end. Not far away, the barely audible voices of nobles gathered together reached his ears.

“By the way, did you hear about what Duke Ganelon did?”

“Are you talking about him increasing taxes, using war preparations as an excuse?”

“That's right. If there is a young girl in a house that's not paying taxes, she will be taken away. If there isn't one, then the house is set on fire.”

“It's really enviable. I'd like to have the authority to place a temporary tax too.”


The aristocrat didn't look resentful. He was simply grumbling in dissatisfaction.

Duke Ganelon was one of the most influential nobles of Brune Kingdom, on par with Thenardier. There were many powerful aristocrats amongst his relatives as well. His power, too, was something not even the king could ignore.

When it came to territory, Brune nobles were allowed to govern pieces of land, but for certain privileges, such as setting taxes, the permission of the king was necessary.

Duke Ganelon not only went against this rule and imposed taxes without consulting the king, but also did these inhuman things in his territory. Yet, the king still tolerated it.

“For a story like that, Duke Thenardier is not inferior. He ordered his people to stop drinking for as long as the war goes on. They had to hand over all of their alcohol as an oath to the gods."

“I see. But it's not hard to hide or make alcohol. What happens to those who are found guilty of violating the ban?”

"The part about kidnapping the family's daughters is similar to Ganelon's method, but as a warning I hear that swords are given to the husband and wife or to the father and son, and they're made to kill each other with it. It seems that they even bet on who will win."

Tigre clenched his fist after hearing the conversation.

Mashas placed a wrinkled hand on Tigre's knee as he was about to stand up.


“Calm down.”

“How can I possibly remain calm!?”

“Though it may be harsh of me to say this, nothing would change, even if you said something.”

He was right. Tigre sat back down, but his rage was still boiling inside him.

He desperately ground his teeth and held his tongue in order to restrain himself from acting on impulse.

He was angry because Ganelon and Thenardier did not regard the people within their dominion as humans. They did not hesitate in their cruelty. He was angry at the men who spoke lightly of such cruel matters and those who overlooked such things without any scruple. Finally, he was angry at his own powerlessness, as he knew he could do nothing.

“The story just now... is it true?”

“Though it is a rumor, there have been many others similar to this one. Still, the people in question have not denied it. You rarely come to the capital, so it's no wonder you didn't know about this.”

Maybe this really couldn't be helped.

Tigre hardly left his territory, the land of Alsace.

He had no desire to rise in the world and gain fame or glory, nor did he have any ambition. That's why he was not interested in his status as an aristocrat.

Plus, in his mind, he had no intention of dealing with Zion, who was one of the sons of the nobles.

“His Majesty still tolerates such behavior...?” he asked fearfully.


He did not want to believe it.

“Certainly, His Majesty has said nothing to them at the present.”

Mashas's stocky body trembled as he shook his head grumpily.

“I believe His Majesty has his own matters to settle. One day, if His Majesty can't control them anymore, at least Prince Regnas should...”

Mashas's eyes clung to the slender hope. Suddenly, he looked up and stared at Tigre. Distracted, Tigre saw Mashas's finger coming towards him, aiming at his mouth, and poking him there.

“Fue...?”

It was too abrupt. No words could come out from Tigre's mouth.

Furthermore, the hand blocking his mouth was kind of cold, and had an indescribable iron taste.

<center><big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big></center>

When he awoke, a dim ceiling was in Tigre's view.

“--- So you finally woke up.”

Tigre heard a voice which lacked intonation. Immediately after that, he felt something withdrawn from his mouth.

What left his mouth was a sword.


The owner of this sword was a woman with golden hair, who he had never seen before.

“... Where should I start?”

“By the way, this is my first time waking a person in such a way.”

She returned with a look and frosty words. Tigre was at a loss and tried greeting her for the time being.

“... Good morning.”

“It is one koku (two hours) through the day.”

Tigre sat up and looked at the woman while scratching his head.

She wore a skirt and short-sleeved shirt. She had long gloves, which reached to her elbows, and boots up to her knees. At her waist was her sheathed sword. It was possible that she was taller than Tigre, and seemed to be two or three years older than him.

She was an unmistakably beautiful woman. However, her scarce expressions gave her face a hard look, leaving her with an unsociable impression.

There were three particularly eye-catching features:

Her long golden hair, tied up on the left side of her head.

Her azure eyes, which were as cold as marble.

And though she was tall and well balanced, she had ample bosoms which did not match her slender build.


Tigre inadvertently stared at the two bulges from underneath her clothes. The woman flashed her sword and threw an unkind remark at him.

“--- If you don't wake up properly, I will skewer you.”

“... I'm sorry.”

Blushing, Tigre apologized properly.

He looked about the room. It was small, containing only the bed he slept on. Sunlight shined through the window, brightly lighting the room. The stone floor was bare, and the only door led to the hallway. His bow leaned against the wall.

“Really, even with the soldiers shouting for your death, even though you are a prisoner... how can you sleep so well?”

“It's one of my special skills.”

“I suggest you hold back a little. You lack tension.”

Anger was mixed into her cold voice. Tigre looked at her in embarrassment.

“Am I really that bad?”

“To the extent that I recall my murderous intent.”

The woman turned about as she threw an answer to Tigre, pushing the door open in the meanwhile.


“Eleanora-sama has called for you. Please follow me.”

Tigre put on his leather shoes and quickly followed after her.

“It's nice to meet you. I am ---”

“This is not our first meeting, Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.”

She answered without turning around, her voice clearly rejecting him.

“My name is Limalisha. It is not necessary for you to remember it.”

Leitmeritz was a principality under Eleanora's rule, and was located in the Kingdom of Zhcted.

Eleanora's troops had arrived at the capital the day before, ten days since they had departed from Dinant. After giving a word of thanks to the soldiers, Eleanora then left the men to her adjutant, Limalisha, and left for the king's capital with several men. It was necessary to report her victory to the king.

During the return to the public capital, Tigre asked the guards a few times, and each time the response was the same.

“We have no need to respond to a prisoner of our Vanadis-sama.”


Even if he asked to meet Eleanora, it wouldn't be possible for them to accept. And regardless, there was no way for him to meet with Eleanora when she had departed for the kingdom's capital to meet the king.

Left with no other options, Tigre remained obediently quiet.

“... Guess I'll just go with the flow.”

Tigre made that decision and looked at the sky until late at night. During the day, he dozed off on the horse.

Tigre followed Limalisha down the passage of the household.

“What are you looking about so restlessly for?”

Limalisha gazed back at him in amazement, as Tigre looked about like a child.

“I was just thinking that this is a splendid building.”

“You are an earl. An aristocrat.”

“I am a poor noble. There is no point comparing my small mansion to this one," Tigre replied without a hint of shame. He continued to look about, admiring the ceiling and floor.

Until now, Tigre had never left Brune Kingdom. Now, he was in the province's imperial palace. The mosaics which decorated the floor were new to him.


The side facing the courtyard was bathed in a column of soft sunlight. In that spacious area, soldiers were training hard. It was vibrant.

“It's a good atmosphere.”

“That is because this is Eleanora-sama's official palace," Limalisha answered, as if it were natural.

Soldiers patrolled the corridors, and what he assumed were maids and chamberlains strolled about, likely performing their jobs.

Tigre thought about the girl who was like his younger sister house-sitting his mansion in his absence.

''--- Titta must be worried.''

When he saw her off, he did not expect such a thing to happen.

''--- Bertrand, and everyone else as well, I hope you all made it back safely.''

He was impatient. He wished to return to Alsace as quickly as possible. However, attempting to escape as a prisoner could be punished by death, so he could only remain silent.

They finally left the palace.


He walked for a while before Limalisha stopped her feet.

“... We are here.”

He was brought to a training ground near the rampart.

Eleanora stood with three armed soldiers amongst the forty. She was clothed in shades of blue with her longsword in its argent sheathe at her waist.

“If you make any strange movements... no, please do so. It would save us quite a bit of time and effort," Limalisha said as she let the sound of her sword escaping its sheath at her waist be heard.

Though there was an obvious hostility, Tigre simply ignored it.

''--- It can't be helped. I'm a prisoner now. We were enemies just ten days ago.''

“Hm. You came.”

Eleanora noticed Tigre and walked up to him cheerfully. She smiled to Tigre first, then Limalisha.

“You've worked hard. Still, it took you quite some time to come here.”

“I apologize. He did not wake up so easily.”

“You didn't wake up?”


Eleanora looked doubtful hearing the story of him waking up only when he had a sword in his mouth. Her shoulders trembled as she held back her laughter.

“Even as a captive, you slept so deeply.”

“He is simply dull.”

At last, Eleanora laughed and turned to Tigre.

“Tigrevurmud Vorn, it's quite a long name for a person of Brune. Does it have an origin?”

“It is an ancestral name that I was given. If you find it difficult, you may call me Tigre.”

Tigre cited the phrase he was accustomed to. He felt odd being called Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.

Eleanora's face suddenly glowed. Her dignity as a Vanadis the soldiers knew was gone; she held the expression appropriate of a girl her age instead.

“In that case, Elen is fine as well. I would prefer it if you use that name.”

Tigre stared at her involuntarily. She spoke intimately with one who was supposed to be her prisoner. To put it another way, she was being overly familiar.

“Eleanora-sama.”

Though Limalisha reproached her, she showed no sign of fear.


“He's my prisoner. This much is fine, Lim.”

“Lim?”

Hearing the name, Tigre looked at Limalisha in surprise.

“I'll tell you now, she is one of my escorts whose horse you shot down, and she was the girl who took you here from Dinant.”

Certainly, her physique matched.

Although he wasn't certain how he should react, he thanked her honestly anyway.

“Though it may be strange of me to say this, thank you for bringing me here safely.”

Tigre had heard stories of prisoners being mocked and assaulted or killed by torture in a convoy. Some died without having a single meal. However, on their way back from Dinant, Tigre had never been abused. He had even been given proper food. Though it may have been because he was Elen's captive, Limalisha -- that is, Lim -- had been the one who properly took care of him.

Lim did not respond to Tigre. What had to be done was done. She hid her anger as she was being thanked by Tigre by ignoring him and facing Elen.


“Eleanora-sama, there is still work to be done today. You should finish your minor errands early."

“I know, I know.” Elen smiled bitterly and waved her hand. She faced Tigre and smiled deliberately. “I would like to clarify things first, Tigre... no, Lord Vorn. As per the treaty between our countries, you will be treated as a prisoner of war. If in fifty days time the demanded ransom has not been delivered by the Kingdom of Brune -- that is to say, if a ransom has not been paid to me -- you will formally become mine as per the agreement. What binds this contract is the name and honor of the god Radegast. Is this acceptable?”

Though it was hardly suitable, Tigre nodded reluctantly.

It was a contract held between every country on the treatment of prisoners of war. It was made to avoid abuse, humiliation, and, frankly, murder. It was a rule which allowed for negotiations between countries to advance efficiently.

“Well, you might be a bit worried about the ransom, though.”

Tigre heard the number come from Elen's mouth and stood rooted to the spot with his mouth agape.


It was a number close to three times Alsace's total yearly tax revenue.

He felt dizzy from the impact.

“... Is it possible to reduce the amount?”

“No.”

A flat response.

''--- Well, there's no reason for her to.''

In many cases, the goal of taking an enemy captive was to retrieve a ransom. It was unlikely she would decrease it so easily.

“You will live here in the imperial palace. Needless to say, any attempt to escape will be met with the death penalty.”

He was like a fish dying out of water. Tigre desperately searched his memory for the savings within his territory.

It amounted to approximately one year's worth of tax revenue, so it was hardly enough.

''--- If I could speak to Titta or Bertrand, or perhaps Sir Mashas, who is more widely known, they might be able to raise the money.''

The preparations for the ransom were, simply put, hopeless.

He felt a pain between his eyes as he thought about his gloomy future. He nearly fainted, but before it happened, Tigre somehow managed to gather strength in his legs. Supporting his body and limbs with all the strength he could muster, he looked back at Elen.


''--- I must return to Alsace.''

''I was born and raised there. It is an important land that I inherited from my father.''

''I'm worried about the soldiers' safety as well. I'm certain my people are worried.''

''Above all, I promised Titta I would return.''

''I want to respond to their wishes.''

“So... what business do you have calling me to a place like this?” Tigre spoke with impudent words and a tone to match. Elen's crimson eyes danced happily as she looked at him with admiration.

“Of course, that was not all I called you here for.” Elen pointed to a training bow sitting along the wall. “Shoot an arrow from here and hit that target over there.”

“Is that it?”

Tigre felt that it was rather anti-climactic.

The target was three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters) away. Even for those skilled with the bow, that distance would seem like a bad joke. Shooting an arrow that far was already a challenge in and of itself; to also hit the target would make it nothing short of impossible.


But for Tigre, that distance was not a big deal.

Although he didn't know what she was planning, he decided to do this quickly.

One of the soldiers brought a bow and four arrows. The man had delicate features and beautiful, shiny black hair that reached down to his shoulders.

After Tigre received the bow and arrow from him, his eyebrows knitted slightly.

“What a terrible bow...”

The material was hardly suitable for a bow, and the condition of the grip was poor. The stringing, too, was badly done. There was also some warping. It was clear what their intention was.

Elen was looking at him from a distance, and, like a child, was filled with expectation.

''Is she not involved?'' Tigre wondered. ''If that's the case, it's unlikely that this is a standard bow for the Zhcted Army.''

He wasn't sure if she knew about this. An unpleasant thought crossed his mind then. Thinking back, the bows in Brune were not that great either.


''--- It can't be an issue of the maker's ability... in the first place, there is no such profession as a bow craftsman.''

Tigre's bow was made by his father when he was small. The choice of materials, as well, was made according to the knowledge and technology of other countries, such as Zhcted.

The accuracy of his arrow was not due to just Tigre's skill but the quality of the tool as well.

While pretending to check the condition of the bow, he looked at the soldier who passed him the bow in his peripheral vision and saw several soldiers grinning.

“Such a petty trick.”

Because he was angry, a murmur leaked from his mouth.

“What is it?”

Lim, who stood nearby, looked at him dubiously. Apparently she had not heard his words. Still, complaining about the quality of the bow as a prisoner of war was cumbersome.

“I wish to confirm something. It is not necessary for me to hit the target with all four arrows, only one, correct?”

“That is a rather timid remark for a person who killed my horse with one arrow.”

Though she thought Tigre was being sarcastic, she remained expressionless. There was no sign of malice. It seems she had not noticed the bow was inferior.


“If your physical condition is poor, I can tell Eleanora-sama to hold this another day.”

“No, I will do it.”

He answered with a strong tone. Tigre set the bow in his hand.

“However, please allow me to hit the target with only one arrow. I am not as confident with an unfamiliar bow.”

Lim bowed in assent and immediately walked to Elen. After speaking a few words, Elen looked at him devoid of any dissatisfaction, as if saying “Please begin.”

Tigre nocked the first arrow and released it.

It stalled before it reached the target, falling to the ground less than two hundred alsin away. Laughter and sneers were heard amongst the soldiers.

He did not mind it and released the next arrow.

The hum of the arrow sounded as it flew in an arc. It hit the castle wall, far from the target.

The soldiers laughed loudly. Some shook their shoulders, others looked at him with pity or contempt. Many gazes pierced Tigre.

“Are you doing this seriously?”


Lim, speaking in an irritated voice, looked to Elen.

Elen looked troubled. Though she was trying to properly solve a problem, she looked at him as if she were scolded by a teacher.

“I'll do it.”

Tigre eagerly replied and nocked the third arrow.

“Hey, are you still continuing? You're really willing to make a spectacle of yourself, still?”

“Maybe you'd like a replacement. Though he can reach the target, he can't even shoot straight.”

“Vanadis-sama, did you really make a man like this your captive?”

“This is quite a splendid show. I wonder if something new will be shown tomorrow.”

Though the soldiers deliberately spoke ill, Tigre was not bothered.

He was accustomed to such abuse. He had received mental abuse incomparable to this many times.

He took a deep breath and looked at the sky for a change of pace, moving his neck around.

In Tigre's vision was a black shadow.

''--- What is that?''

His neck stopped moving and he looked closely.


In an instant, he understood the identity of the shadow. Chills ran down Tigre's spine as he screamed at Elen.

“Get down!”

''--- An arbalest...!''

It was different from the bow Tigre used. It was a mechanical bow; the bowstring was pulled by a winch and shot with a trigger.

It was difficult to maintain and prone to failure, but it could reach three-hundred-fifty alsin (approximately three-hundred-fifty meters) at maximum and could easily pass through shields and armor with enough force for the bolt to come out the other side.

The black shadow on the rampart held one.

A thick bolt was released from the arbalest.

The roar of air sped straight toward Elen. She had no time to avoid it.

However, Elen did not panic, nor did she move from her spot.

“--- Arifal!”

Muttering those words like a spell, the sword at her waist gave off a spark, cutting the atmosphere and scattering particles of silver.

In a moment, the air rapidly swelled, like an explosion. A storm raged about her.


Her long hair of silver-white danced with the wind. The bolt, entwined in the intense storm, was thrown far off orbit.

It passed through the empty space away from her and fell to the ground weakly.

''--- What just happened?''

Tigre stared in blank surprise at Elen.

It was not a coincidence; that was impossible.

While learning the bow, Tigre learned about the arbalest. He was knowledgeable about the power of the thick bolts. A wind could not conveniently blow it out of its orbit.

“Capture that man!”

Lim shouted. All the soldiers held a bow, however, far from hitting the shadow, they could not even reach the rampart.

The people with a sword or spear ran to the rampart.

The soldier guarding the wall, in response to the commotion, began chasing the shadow.

''--- This has nothing to do with me.''

Tigre muttered to himself. Though he shouted on reflex, he was not Elen's subordinate, nor was he a man of this city.

While thinking that, suddenly, Tigre remembered his first meeting with Elen.


“You're skilled.”

She smiled as she said so.

''Titta, Bertrand and his men, my late father, when was I last praised for my bow arm?''

“Should I capture him alive?”

Nocking the arrow, Tigre asked Lim in a flat tone.

“Is this really a situation where you can say that...?”

Grasping the sword with her hand until it went white, Lim stared at the shadow on the rampart in chagrin. She wanted to lead the soldiers, but could not leave Elen's side.

The shadow ran quickly across the wall. Once he reached the tower, he could quickly escape outside.

“I understand. I'll get his foot.”

Tigre said those words as he strongly drew his bow to the limit.

After shooting the previous two arrows, he understood its condition perfectly.

''--- At this distance, I won't miss.''

Lim looked at him in doubt.

Then her gaze changed to one of surprise.


The bowstring trembled.

The arrow resounded with a sharp buzz as it drew a large arc, piercing the leg of the shadow.

The shadow fell on the rampart and was caught by the soldiers who finally caught up.

“What... was that?”

One of the soldiers on the rampart looked down at Tigre. No other words would come out.

The other soldiers, too, looked at Tigre in amazement.

“Impossible. He shot over three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters) from that position to the rampart...”

“No, if you think about the height of the tower, it could be even more. No way.”

“I can't believe it... Is that a human skill, or can all people of Brune do this?”

Though the voices showed astonishment and shock, there was clearly admiration in them as well.

There were those rooted to the spot, others looked to the sky, and some covered their forehead with their hand and recited the names of the Gods.

The malice in the training area no longer remained.

“He did something like that... with such a terrible bow...”

The soldiers who passed Tigre the bow were pale with fear.


“--- You got me.”

Tigre shrugged his shoulders. Though he held no emotions in his chest anymore, he was puzzled. He noticed he was bathed in gazes all at once.

The fourth arrow remained in his hand. Though Lim had seen it before, she did not look any differently than the other soldiers. When his eyes met hers, he understood her body was tense.

He looked back at Elen.

“I'll ask you now. What about the fourth shot?”

“It's enough with this. I'd rather not lose this.”

Elen's argent hair moved gently as she shook her head.

“You did well.”

Elen smiled at Tigre with sincerity, her sword still sheathed at her waist. A wind blew from somewhere, tickling Tigre's hair.

''--- Just now...''

Tigre placed his hand in his hair involuntarily. He thought Elen had somehow used her longsword to produce the wind.

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| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_01_Chapter3_-_MTL|Chapter 3 - MTL]]
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Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume 01 Chapter2 - MTL

2017-02-28T02:53:24Z

An Orange Peon: /* LeitMeritz */

<noinclude>{{MTL-old}}</noinclude>
=== LeitMeritz ===

He was having a bad dream.

''Our forces were gathered on a small hill.''

''It was meal time. The soldiers put a pot that was as deep as a barrel on a mound, which had been turned into a stove. They were preparing a fish stew.''

''There was a slight ridge before the Dinant Plains, which plateaued with no end in sight.''

''There were twenty thousand Brune soldiers sharing a meal with his own troops. Thousands of streams of heat floated upward, and the soldiers seemed as though they were imprisoned in the steam.''

Tigre and Mashas were talking while stirring the food in the pot when a few young men appeared in front of their eyes with the colliding sound of their armor.

“So you came as well, Vorn.”

The man who said that with an openly mocking tone was Zion Thenardier.

The Thenardier house held the title of Duke. It was a long and distinguished family incomparable to the Vorn household. It had many aristocrats who held enormous power, and the territory it owned was wide. It was said that the number of soldiers mobilized by their household could reach ten thousand. Even in this war, which had been organized in a haste, they commanded a force four thousand strong. Zion was the Thenardier family's eldest son and heir. He was currently 17 years old. Though he wore decorated armor and bore a splendid sword at his waist in an imposing manner worthy of his lineage, he always had an expression as though he was looking down on others. At his back was an entourage of young men flattering him. Like Zion, they were aristocrats born into families holding the rank of marquis or duke. They wore glittering armor with their respective household's crest. They looked at Tigre with a grimace, and did not seem to harbor any good intentions.


Tigre could not simply ignore them, and felt obliged to show a minimal courtesy.

“... I am here to serve as His Majesty's loyal subject, so I came here as quickly as possible.”

“Though it's quite admirable to say that, I'm not sure how helpful you'll be.”

After Zion ridiculed Tigre, the laughter of the other nobles overlapped with his own. Perhaps it was because their ages were similar, but Zion frequently made fun of Tigre in such a manner.

“I told you before, your family has merely hunted for four or five generations. I can hardly recognize you as a noble.”

He spat out those words arrogantly and immediately tried to stomp Tigre's bow, which was laying on the ground.

Tigre moved reflexively, picking up his bow as quickly as a wild beast.


''“Uwah!”''

Zion stumbled, losing his balance and falling hard on the ground, taking one of his followers down with him.

“How dare you do that to Master Zion!”

To the enraged followers who roared at him, Tigre yelled back:

“I was protecting my bow!”

“A bow? If it's a bow, so what, you coward!”

“That's right. There's nothing wrong in breaking this crap. You should be on the front lines with a sword!”

“I'm sure that the God of War, Trigraf, would never give his blessings to someone like you!”

The other followers expressed their approval one after another. Tigre grit his teeth in anger.

In the Brune Kingdom, their complaints were acceptable.

''“The bow is the weapon of a coward who does not have the courage to expose his body before a naked blade.”''

Such train of thoughts were deeply rooted in the Brune Army, which made little use of the bow. Not only were the achievements of archers disregarded, but archers in general were as well.

''“Archers are all drafted hunters, farmers who do not own land, people who have committed a serious crime as a warrior -- or those who aren't skilled with the sword or the spear, to fill out the ranks."''


Due to such a status quo, those who used bows, even as soldiers, were regarded as criminals and useless failures that were looked down upon.

Although Tigre's ancestor had been presented with territory for hunting and the title of earl for his distinguished military services, Mashas had told him, "If he hadn't been a hunter, he'd probably have been promoted to an even higher rank."

“Calm down, you guys.”

With some help, Zion managed to stand up, and put a stop to his followers' actions. Though they were reluctant, they stopped blaming Tigre.

Zion put on an act while getting rid of the dust on his armor. He crossed his arms and laughed scornfully at Tigre.

"The reason why you stick to the bow is because you can't handle a sword or a spear, right? You probably think that if you head into the battlefield with a bow, it would barely be enough to pretend at being a soldier, right?"

Tigre remained silent. It was true he was poor with the sword and spear. If he objected here, Zion would ask him to take up a sword or a spear and demonstrate his skills, and laugh at him. This had already happened once before.

Zion did not stop taunting him there.

“To begin with, you are an earl of the Kingdom of Brune, yet you can't use a sword or a spear and plan to head to the battlefield without wearing armor. Aren't you ashamed? Guys, look at his shabby appearance. He has a leather plate, leather gauntlets and even leather leggings. All his equipment is made of leather. At most, his mantle is decent, but if that's the only presentable part, then I really feel sad about the financial situation of his territory.”


“--- Lord Zion.”

Mashas, who had remained silent until then, spoke sullenly.

“Your words have been insightful. However, since you said so much at once, surely you have become thirsty.”

He continued while pointing in a certain direction.

“There's some rayion wine being distributed over there. Why not try drinking some, to relieve your thirst?”

Using a polite and humble tone, Mashas's attitude pressured the other side.

The dignity of this old knight, who had just turned 55, was intimidating to Zion.

Zion grunted and stepped back involuntarily as he became aware that he forgot his manners. He then snorted and turned around.

“Hey, let's go.”

Tigre watched Zion and the others walk away, and thanked Mashas after checking his bow's condition.

“Thank you. You saved me.”

“It's nothing. I should be the one to apologize. It would have been better if I had intervened earlier, but I couldn't find an opportunity to barge in.”


From Zion's perspective, Mashas was a weak aristocrat no different from Tigre. If the former didn't get the timing right, he would simply snort with laughter.

While returning to stir the pan, Mashas looked about the area casually.

Whether soldier or aristocrat, all were concentrated on their pots, or were taking care of their arms while entertaining themselves with chatter. Not a single person looked their way, and that indifference reached an unnatural state.

They were all afraid of Zion, so they avoided relations with Tigre.

“I now understand that handling the sword and spear is not proof of courage.”

Mashas spoke in irony. Tigre wanted to say something to him, but shut his mouth at the end. Not far away, the barely audible voices of nobles gathered together reached his ears.

“By the way, did you hear about what Duke Ganelon did?”

“Are you talking about him increasing taxes, using war preparations as an excuse?”

“That's right. If there is a young girl in a house that's not paying taxes, she will be taken away. If there isn't one, then the house is set on fire.”

“It's really enviable. I'd like to have the authority to place a temporary tax too.”


The aristocrat didn't look resentful. He was simply grumbling in dissatisfaction.

Duke Ganelon was one of the most influential nobles of Brune Kingdom, on par with Thenardier. There were many powerful aristocrats amongst his relatives as well. His power, too, was something not even the king could ignore.

When it came to territory, Brune nobles were allowed to govern pieces of land, but for certain privileges, such as setting taxes, the permission of the king was necessary.

Duke Ganelon not only went against this rule and imposed taxes without consulting the king, but also did these inhuman things in his territory. Yet, the king still tolerated it.

“For a story like that, Duke Thenardier is not inferior. He ordered his people to stop drinking for as long as the war goes on. They had to hand over all of their alcohol as an oath to the gods."

“I see. But it's not hard to hide or make alcohol. What happens to those who are found guilty of violating the ban?”

"The part about kidnapping the family's daughters is similar to Ganelon's method, but as a warning I hear that swords are given to the husband and wife or to the father and son, and they're made to kill each other with it. It seems that they even bet on who will win."

Tigre clenched his fist after hearing the conversation.

Mashas placed a wrinkled hand on Tigre's knee as he was about to stand up.


“Calm down.”

“How can I possibly remain calm!?”

“Though it may be harsh of me to say this, nothing would change, even if you said something.”

He was right. Tigre sat back down, but his rage was still boiling inside him.

He desperately ground his teeth and held his tongue in order to restrain himself from acting on impulse.

He was angry because Ganelon and Thenardier did not regard the people within their dominion as humans. They did not hesitate in their cruelty. He was angry at the men who spoke lightly of such cruel matters and those who overlooked such things without any scruple. Finally, he was angry at his own powerlessness, as he knew he could do nothing.

“The story just now... is it true?”

“Though it is a rumor, there have been many others similar to this one. Still, the people in question have not denied it. You rarely come to the capital, so it's no wonder you didn't know about this.”

Maybe this really couldn't be helped.

Tigre hardly left his territory, the land of Alsace.

He had no desire to rise in the world and gain fame or glory, nor did he have any ambition. That's why he was not interested in his status as an aristocrat.

Plus, in his mind, he had no intention of dealing with Zion, who was one of the sons of the nobles.

“His Majesty still tolerates such behavior...?” he asked fearfully.


He did not want to believe it.

“Certainly, His Majesty has said nothing to them at the present.”

Mashas's stocky body trembled as he shook his head grumpily.

“I believe His Majesty has his own matters to settle. One day, if His Majesty can't control them anymore, at least Prince Regnas should...”

Mashas's eyes clung to the slender hope. Suddenly, he looked up and stared at Tigre. Distracted, Tigre saw Mashas's finger coming towards him, aiming at his mouth, and poking him there.

“Fue...?”

It was too abrupt. No words could come out from Tigre's mouth.

Furthermore, the hand blocking his mouth was kind of cold, and had an indescribable iron taste.

<center><big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big></center>

When he awoke, a dim ceiling was in Tigre's view.

“--- So you finally woke up.”

Tigre heard a voice which lacked intonation. Immediately after that, he felt something withdrawn from his mouth.

What left his mouth was a sword.


The owner of this sword was a woman with golden hair, who he had never seen before.

“... Where should I start?”

“By the way, this is my first time waking a person in such a way.”

She returned with a look and frosty words. Tigre was at a loss and tried greeting her for the time being.

“... Good morning.”

“It is one koku (two hours) through the day.”

Tigre sat up and looked at the woman while scratching his head.

She wore a skirt and short-sleeved shirt. She had long gloves which reached to her elbows and boots up to her knees. At her waist was her sheathed sword.

She was possibly taller than Tigre, and seemed to be two or three years older.

She was unmistakably a beautiful woman, but her scarce expressions gave her face a hard look, leaving her with an unsociable impression.

There were three particularly eye-catching features.

Tied on the left side of her head was long, golden hair.

Her azure eyes were as cold as marble.

And though she was tall and well balanced, she had ample bosoms which did not match her slender build.


Tigre inadvertently stared at the two swellings which bulged from beneath her clothes. The woman flashed her sword and threw an unkind remark.

“--- If you don't wake up properly, I will skewer you.”

“... I'm sorry.”

Blushing, Tigre apologized properly.

He looked about the room. It was small, containing only the bed he slept on.

Sunlight shined through the window, brightly lighting the room. The stone floor was bare, and the only door led to the hallway. His bow leaned against the wall.

“Really, even with the soldiers shouting for your death, even though you are a prisoner... How can you sleep so well.”

“It's one of my special skills.”

“I suggest you hold back a little. You lack tension.”

Anger was mixed into her cold voice. Tigre looked at her in embarrassment.

“Am I really that bad?”

“To the extent that I recall my murderous intent.”

The woman turned about as she threw an answer to Tigre, pushing the door open in the meanwhile.


“Eleanora-sama has called for you. Please follow me.”

Tigre put on his leather shoes and quickly followed after her.

“It's nice to meet you. I am ---”

“This is not our first meeting, Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.”

She answered without turning around, her voice clearly rejecting him.

“My name is Limlisha. It is not necessary to remember it.”

LeitMeritz was a principality located in the Kingdom of Zhcted, under Eleanora's rule.

Eleanora's troops arrived at the capital yesterday. It had been ten days since they departed from Dinant.

After giving a word of thanks to the soldiers, Eleanora left the men to her adjutant, Limlisha, and returned to the King's capital with several men.

It was necessary to report her victory to the King.

During the return to the public capital, Tigre asked the guards a few times, and each time the response was the same.

“We have no need to respond to a prisoner of our Vanadis-sama.”


Even if he asked to meet Eleanora, it would not be possible for them to accept. Regardless, there was no way to do it since she departed for the kingdom's capital to meet the King.

Since he had no other options, Tigre remained quietly obedient.

“... Guess I'll just go with the flow.”

Tigre made that decision and looked at the sky until late at night. During the day, he dozed off on the horse.

Following Limlisha, Tigre walked down the passage of the household.

“What are you looking about so restlessly for?”

Limlisha gazed back at him in amazement as Tigre looked about like a child.

“Yes, I just thought it is a splendid building.”

“You are an Earl, an aristocrat.”

“I am a poor noble. There is no point comparing my small mansion to this one.”

He responded without any shame. Tigre looked about, admiring the ceiling and floor.

Until now, Tigre had never left Brune Kingdom, and now he was in the province's Imperial Palace. The mosaics which decorated the floor were new to him.


The side facing the courtyard was bathed in a column of soft sunlight. In the vast area, soldiers were working hard, training. It was vibrant.

“It's a good atmosphere.”

“That is because this is Eleanora-sama's official palace.”

Limlisha answered as if it were natural.

Soldiers patrolled the corridors, and what he assumed were maids and chamberlains strolled about, likely performing their job.

Tigre thought about the girl who was like a younger sister house-sitting his mansion in his absence.

''--- Teita must be worried.''

When he saw her off, he did not expect such a thing to happen.

''--- Batran, and everyone else as well, I hope you made it back safely.''

In his chest, there was impatience.

He wished to return to Alsace as quickly as possible. However, a prisoner who escapes is punishable by death, so he could only remain quiet.

They finally left the palace.


He walked for a while before Limlisha stopped her feet.

“... We are here.”

He was brought to a training ground near the rampart.

Eleanora stood with three armed soldiers amongst the forty. She was clothed in shades of blue with her longsword in its argent sheathe at her waist.

“If you make any strange movements... No, please do so. It would save quite a bit of time and effort.”

Limlisha spoke as she let the sound of her sword escape its sheathe at her waist.

Though there was an obvious hostility, Tigre simply ignored it.

''--- It can't be helped. I'm a prisoner now; we were enemies just ten days ago.''

“Hm, you came.”

Eleanora noticed Tigre and walked up to him cheerfully. She smiled to Tigre first, then Limlisha.

“You've worked hard. Still, it took you quite some time to come here.”

“I apologize. He did not wake up so easily.”

“You didn't wake up?”


Eleanora looked doubtful hearing the story of him waking up only when he had a sword in his mouth. Her shoulders trembled as she held back her laughter.

“Even as a captive, you slept so deeply.”

“He is simply dull.”

At last, Eleanora laughed and turned to Tigre.

“Tigrevurmud Vorn, it's quite a long name for a person of Brune. Does it have an origin?”

“I received an ancestral name. If you find it difficult, you may call me Tigre.”

Tigre cited the phrase he was accustomed to. He felt odd being called Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.

Eleanora's face suddenly glowed. The dignity as a Vanadis the soldiers knew was gone; she held the expression appropriate of a girl her age.

“In that case, Ellen is fine as well. I would prefer it if you use that name.”

Tigre stared at her involuntarily. She spoke in an intimate manner with a prisoner. Saying it poorly, she was being overly familiar.

“Eleanora-sama.”

Though Limlisha reproached her, she showed no sign of fear.


“He's my prisoner. This much is fine, Lim.”

“Lim?”

Hearing the name, Tigre looked at Limlisha in surprise.

“I'll tell you now. She is one of my escorts whose horse you shot down, and she was the girl who took you here from Dinant.”

Certainly, her physique matched.

Though puzzled as to how he should react, Tigre thanked her honestly.

“Though it may be strange of me to say this, thank you for bringing me here safely.”

Tigre had heard stories of prisoners being mocked and assaulted or killed by torture in a convoy. Some died without having a single meal.

However, on the way back from Dinant, Tigre was never abused. He was even given proper food.

Though it may have been because he was Ellen's captive, Limlisha – that is, Lim, was the one who properly managed him.

She did not respond to Tigre. What had to be done was done.

However, Lim hid her anger as she was thanked by ignoring Tigre and facing Ellen.


“Eleanora-sama, there is still work to be done today. You should finish your trivial errands early, correct?”

“I know, I know.”

Ellen smiled bitterly and waved. She faced Tigre and smiled deliberately.

“I would like to clarify things first, Tigre... no, Lord Vorn. As per the treaty between our countries, you will be treated as a prisoner of war. If, in fifty days time, the demanded ransom has not been delivered by the Kingdom of Brune, that is, if a ransom has not been paid to me, you will formally become mine as per the agreement. What binds this contract is the name and honor of the God, Radegast. Is this acceptable?”

Though hardly suitable, Tigre nodded reluctantly.

It was a contract held between every country on the treatment of prisoners of war.

It was made to avoid abuse, humiliation, and, frankly, murder. It was a rule which allowed for negotiations between countries to advance efficiently.

“Well, you might be a bit worried about the ransom, though.”

Tigre heard the number come from Ellen's mouth and stood rooted to the spot with his mouth agape.


It was a number close to the total tax revenue raised by Alsace in three years time.

He felt dizzy from the impact.

“... Is it possible to reduce the amount?”

“No.”

A flat response.

''--- Well, there's no reason for her to.''

In many cases, the goal of taking an enemy captive was to retrieve a ransom. It was unlikely she would decrease it so easily.

“You will live here in the Imperial Palace. Needless to say, any attempt to escape will be met with death penalty.”

He was like a fish dying out of water. Tigre desperately searched his memory for the savings within his territory.

It amounted to approximately one year's worth of tax revenue, so it was hardly enough.

''--- If I can speak to Teita or Batran, or perhaps Sir Mashas, who is more widely known, they may be able to raise the money.''

The preparations for the ransom were, simply put, hopeless.

He felt a pain between his eyes as he thought about his gloomy future. He nearly fainted, but before it happened, Tigre somehow managed to gather strength in his legs.


Supporting his body and limbs with all the strength he could muster, he looked back at Ellen.

''--- I must return to Alsace.''

''I was born and raised there. It is an important land I inherited from my father.''

''I'm worried about the soldiers' safety as well. I'm certain my people are worried.''

''Above all, I promised Teita I would return.''

''I wish to answer their desires.''

“So... What business do you have to call me to such a place?”

Tigre spoke with impudent words and a tone to match. Ellen's crimson eyes smiled happily as she looked at him with admiration.

“Of course, that is not all I called you here for.”

Ellen pointed to a training bow sitting along the wall.

“Shoot an arrow from here and hit that.”

“Is that it?”

Tigre, who was on the defensive, felt it was rather anti-climactic.

The distance to the target was three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters). Even for those skilled with the bow, the distance would seem like a bad joke.


Shooting an arrow at that distance is already in itself a challenge; to also hit the target would make it nothing short of impossible.

However, the distance was not a big deal for Tigre.

Though he did not know what she was plotting, he decided to do it quickly.

One of the soldiers brought a bow and four arrows. The man had delicate features and beautiful, shiny black hair reached down to his shoulders.

After Tigre received the bow and arrow from him, his eyebrows knitted slightly.

“What a terrible bow...”

The material was hardly suitable, and the condition of the grip was poor. The stringing, too, was poorly done. There was also some warping. It was clear what his intention was.

Ellen glanced at him at a distance like a child, filled with expectation. ''Is she not involved? If that's the case, it's unlikely this is a standard bow for the Zhcted Army.''

He was unsure if she knew of this.

An unpleasant thought crossed his mind. Thinking back, the bows in Brune were not that good, either.


''--- It can't be an issue of the maker's ability... In the first place, there is no such profession as a bow craftsman.''

Tigre's bow was made by his father when he was small. The choice of materials, as well, was made according to the knowledge and technology of other countries, such as Zhcted.

The accuracy of his arrow was not due to just Tigre's skill but the quality of the tool as well.

While pretending to check the condition of the bow, he looked at the soldier who passed him the bow in his peripheral vision and saw several soldiers grinning.

“Such a petty trick.”

Because he was angry, a murmur leaked from his mouth.

“What is it?”

Lim, who stood nearby, looked at him dubiously. Apparently she had not heard his words. Still, complaining about the quality of the bow as a prisoner of war was cumbersome.

“I wish to confirm something. It is not necessary for me to hit the target with all four arrows, only one, correct?”

“That is a rather timid remark for a person who killed my horse with one arrow.”

Though she thought Tigre was being sarcastic, she remained expressionless. There was no sign of malice. It seems she had not noticed the bow was inferior.


“If your physical condition is poor, I can tell Eleanora-sama to hold this another day.”

“No, I will do it.”

He answered with a strong tone. Tigre set the bow in his hand.

“However, please allow me to hit the target with only one arrow. I am not as confident with an unfamiliar bow.”

Lim bowed in assent and immediately walked to Ellen. After speaking a few words, Ellen looked at him devoid of any dissatisfaction, as if saying “Please begin.”

Tigre nocked the first arrow and released it.

It stalled before it reached the target, falling to the ground less than two hundred alsin away. Laughter and sneers were heard amongst the soldiers.

He did not mind it and released the next arrow.

The hum of the arrow sounded as it flew in an arc. It hit the castle wall, far from the target.

The soldiers laughed loudly. Some shook their shoulders, others looked at him with pity or contempt. Many gazes pierced Tigre.

“Are you doing this seriously?”


Lim, speaking in an irritated voice, looked to Ellen.

Ellen looked troubled. Though she was trying to properly solve a problem, she looked at him as if she were scolded by a teacher.

“I'll do it.”

Tigre eagerly replied and nocked the third arrow.

“Hey, are you still continuing? You're really willing to make a spectacle of yourself, still?”

“Maybe you'd like a replacement. Though he can reach the target, he can't even shoot straight.”

“Vanadis-sama, did you really make a man like this your captive?”

“This is quite a splendid show. I wonder if something new will be shown tomorrow.”

Though the soldiers deliberately spoke ill, Tigre was not bothered.

He was accustomed to such abuse. He had received mental abuse incomparable to this many times.

He took a deep breath and looked at the sky for a change of pace, moving his neck around.

In Tigre's vision was a black shadow.

''--- What is that?''

His neck stopped moving and he looked closely.


In an instant, he understood the identity of the shadow. Chills ran down Tigre's spine as he screamed at Ellen.

“Get down!”

''--- An arbalest...!''

It was different from the bow Tigre used. It was a mechanical bow; the bowstring was pulled by a winch and shot with a trigger.

It was difficult to maintain and prone to failure, but it could reach three-hundred-fifty alsin (approximately three-hundred-fifty meters) at maximum and could easily pass through shields and armor with enough force for the bolt to come out the other side.

The black shadow on the rampart held one.

A thick bolt was released from the arbalest.

The roar of air sped straight toward Ellen. She had no time to avoid it.

However, Ellen did not panic, nor did she move from her spot.

“--- Arifal!”

Muttering those words like a spell, the sword at her waist gave off a spark, cutting the atmosphere and scattering particles of silver.

In a moment, the air rapidly swelled, like an explosion. A storm raged about her.


Her long hair of silver-white danced with the wind. The bolt, entwined in the intense storm, was thrown far off orbit.

It passed through the empty space away from her and fell to the ground weakly.

''--- What just happened?''

Tigre stared in blank surprise at Ellen.

It was not a coincidence; that was impossible.

While learning the bow, Tigre learned about the arbalest. He was knowledgeable about the power of the thick bolts. A wind could not conveniently blow it out of its orbit.

“Capture that man!”

Lim shouted. All the soldiers held a bow, however, far from hitting the shadow, they could not even reach the rampart.

The people with a sword or spear ran to the rampart.

The soldier guarding the wall, in response to the commotion, began chasing the shadow.

''--- This has nothing to do with me.''

Tigre muttered to himself. Though he shouted on reflex, he was not Ellen's subordinate, nor was he a man of this city.

While thinking that, suddenly, Tigre remembered his first meeting with Ellen.


“You're skilled.”

She smiled as she said so.

''Teita, Batran and his men, my late father, when was I last praised for my bow arm?''

“Should I capture him alive?”

Nocking the arrow, Tigre asked Lim in a flat tone.

“Is this really a situation where you can say that...?”

Grasping the sword with her hand until it went white, Lim stared at the shadow on the rampart in chagrin. She wanted to lead the soldiers, but could not leave Ellen's side.

The shadow ran quickly across the wall. Once he reached the tower, he could quickly escape outside.

“I understand. I'll get his foot.”

Tigre said those words as he strongly drew his bow to the limit.

After shooting the previous two arrows, he understood its condition perfectly.

''--- At this distance, I won't miss.''

Lim looked at him in doubt.

Then her gaze changed to one of surprise.


The bowstring trembled.

The arrow resounded with a sharp buzz as it drew a large arc, piercing the leg of the shadow.

The shadow fell on the rampart and was caught by the soldiers who finally caught up.

“What... was that?”

One of the soldiers on the rampart looked down at Tigre. No other words would come out.

The other soldiers, too, looked at Tigre in amazement.

“Impossible. He shot over three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters) from that position to the rampart...”

“No, if you think about the height of the tower, it could be even more. No way.”

“I can't believe it... Is that a human skill, or can all people of Brune do this?”

Though the voices showed astonishment and shock, there was clearly admiration in them as well.

There were those rooted to the spot, others looked to the sky, and some covered their forehead with their hand and recited the names of the Gods.

The malice in the training area no longer remained.

“He did something like that... with such a terrible bow...”

The soldiers who passed Tigre the bow were pale with fear.


“--- You got me.”

Tigre shrugged his shoulders. Though he held no emotions in his chest anymore, he was puzzled. He noticed he was bathed in gazes all at once.

The fourth arrow remained in his hand. Though Lim had seen it before, she did not look any differently than the other soldiers. When his eyes met hers, he understood her body was tense.

He looked back at Ellen.

“I'll ask you now. What about the fourth shot?”

“It's enough with this. I'd rather not lose this.”

Ellen's argent hair moved gently as she shook her head.

“You did well.”

Ellen smiled at Tigre with sincerity, her sword still sheathed at her waist. A wind blew from somewhere, tickling Tigre's hair.

''--- Just now...''

Tigre placed his hand in his hair involuntarily. He thought Ellen had somehow used her longsword to produce the wind.

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| Back to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_01_Chapter1_-_MTL|Chapter 1 - MTL]]
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| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_01_Chapter3_-_MTL|Chapter 3 - MTL]]
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Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume 01 Chapter2 - MTL

2017-02-27T08:36:57Z

An Orange Peon: /* LeitMeritz */

<noinclude>{{MTL-old}}</noinclude>
=== LeitMeritz ===

He was having a bad dream.

''Our forces were gathered on a small hill.''

''It was meal time. The soldiers put a pot that was as deep as a barrel on a mound, which had been turned into a stove. They were preparing a fish stew.''

''There was a slight ridge before the Dinant Plains, which plateaued with no end in sight.''

''There were twenty thousand Brune soldiers sharing a meal with his own troops. Thousands of streams of heat floated upward, and the soldiers seemed as though they were imprisoned in the steam.''

Tigre and Mashas were talking while stirring the food in the pot when a few young men appeared in front of their eyes with the colliding sound of their armor.

“So you came as well, Vorn.”

The man who said that with an openly mocking tone was Zion Thenardier.

The Thenardier house held the title of Duke. It was a long and distinguished family incomparable to the Vorn household. It had many aristocrats who held enormous power, and the territory it owned was wide. It was said that the number of soldiers mobilized by their household could reach ten thousand. Even in this war, which had been organized in a haste, they commanded a force four thousand strong. Zion was the Thenardier family's eldest son and heir. He was currently 17 years old. Though he wore decorated armor and bore a splendid sword at his waist in an imposing manner worthy of his lineage, he always had an expression as though he was looking down on others. At his back was an entourage of young men flattering him. Like Zion, they were aristocrats born into families holding the rank of marquis or duke. They wore glittering armor with their respective household's crest. They looked at Tigre with a grimace, and did not seem to harbor any good intentions.


Tigre could not simply ignore them, and felt obliged to show a minimal courtesy.

“... I am here to serve as His Majesty's loyal subject, so I came here as quickly as possible.”

“Though it's quite admirable to say that, I'm not sure how helpful you'll be.”

After Zion ridiculed Tigre, the laughter of the other nobles overlapped with his own. Perhaps it was because their ages were similar, but Zion frequently made fun of Tigre in such a manner.

“I told you before, your family has merely hunted for four or five generations. I can hardly recognize you as a noble.”

He spat out those words arrogantly and immediately tried to stomp Tigre's bow, which was laying on the ground.

Tigre moved reflexively, picking up his bow as quickly as a wild beast.


''“Uwah!”''

Zion stumbled, losing his balance and falling hard on the ground, taking one of his followers down with him.

“How dare you do that to Master Zion!”

To the enraged followers who roared at him, Tigre yelled back:

“I was protecting my bow!”

“A bow? If it's a bow, so what, you coward!”

“That's right. There's nothing wrong in breaking this crap. You should be on the front lines with a sword!”

“I'm sure that the God of War, Trigraf, would never give his blessings to someone like you!”

The other followers expressed their approval one after another. Tigre grit his teeth in anger.

In the Brune Kingdom, their complaints were acceptable.

''“The bow is the weapon of a coward who does not have the courage to expose his body before a naked blade.”''

Such train of thoughts were deeply rooted in the Brune Army, which made little use of the bow. Not only were the achievements of archers disregarded, but archers in general were as well.

''“Archers are all drafted hunters, farmers who do not own land, people who have committed a serious crime as a warrior -- or those who aren't skilled with the sword or the spear, to fill out the ranks."''


Due to such a status quo, those who used bows, even as soldiers, were regarded as criminals and useless failures that were looked down upon.

Although Tigre's ancestor had been presented with territory for hunting and the title of earl for his distinguished military services, Mashas had told him, "If he hadn't been a hunter, he'd probably have been promoted to an even higher rank."

“Calm down, you guys.”

With some help, Zion managed to stand up, and put a stop to his followers' actions. Though they were reluctant, they stopped blaming Tigre.

Zion put on an act while getting rid of the dust on his armor. He crossed his arms and laughed scornfully at Tigre.

"The reason why you stick to the bow is because you can't handle a sword or a spear, right? You probably think that if you head into the battlefield with a bow, it would barely be enough to pretend at being a soldier, right?"

Tigre remained silent. It was true he was poor with the sword and spear. If he objected here, Zion would ask him to take up a sword or a spear and demonstrate his skills, and laugh at him. This had already happened once before.

Zion did not stop taunting him there.

“To begin with, you are an earl of the Kingdom of Brune, yet you can't use a sword or a spear and plan to head to the battlefield without wearing armor. Aren't you ashamed? Guys, look at his shabby appearance. He has a leather plate, leather gauntlets and even leather leggings. All his equipment is made of leather. At most, his mantle is decent, but if that's the only presentable part, then I really feel sad about the financial situation of his territory.”


“--- Lord Zion.”

Mashas, who had remained silent until then, spoke sullenly.

“Your words have been insightful. However, since you said so much at once, surely you have become thirsty.”

He continued while pointing in a certain direction.

“There's some rayion wine being distributed over there. Why not try drinking some, to relieve your thirst?”

Using a polite and humble tone, Mashas's attitude pressured the other side.

The dignity of this old knight, who had just turned 55, was intimidating to Zion.

Zion grunted and stepped back involuntarily as he became aware that he forgot his manners. He then snorted and turned around.

“Hey, let's go.”

Tigre watched Zion and the others walk away, and thanked Mashas after checking his bow's condition.

“Thank you. You saved me.”

“It's nothing. I should be the one to apologize. It would have been better if I had intervened earlier, but I couldn't find an opportunity to barge in.”


From Zion's perspective, Mashas was a weak aristocrat no different from Tigre. If the former didn't get the timing right, he would simply snort with laughter.

While returning to stir the pan, Mashas looked about the area casually.

Whether soldier or aristocrat, all were concentrated on their pots, or were taking care of their arms while entertaining themselves with chatter. Not a single person looked their way, and that indifference reached an unnatural state.

They were all afraid of Zion, so they avoided relations with Tigre.

“I now understand that handling the sword and spear is not proof of courage.”

Mashas spoke in irony. Tigre wanted to say something to him, but shut his mouth at the end. Not far away, the barely audible voices of nobles gathered together reached his ears.

“By the way, did you hear about what Duke Ganelon did?”

“Are you talking about him increasing taxes, using war preparations as an excuse?”

“That's right. If there is a young girl in a house that's not paying taxes, she will be taken away. If there isn't one, then the house is set on fire.”

“It's really enviable. I'd like to have the authority to place a temporary tax too.”


The aristocrat didn't look resentful. He was simply grumbling in dissatisfaction.

Duke Ganelon was one of the most influential nobles of Brune Kingdom, on par with Thenardier. There were many powerful aristocrats amongst his relatives as well. His power, too, was something not even the king could ignore.

When it came to territory, Brune nobles were allowed to govern pieces of land, but for certain privileges, such as setting taxes, the permission of the king was necessary.

Duke Ganelon not only went against this rule and imposed taxes without consulting the king, but also did these inhuman things in his territory. Yet, the king still tolerated it.

“For a story like that, Duke Thenardier is not inferior. He ordered his people to stop drinking for as long as the war goes on. They had to hand over all of their alcohol as an oath to the gods."

“I see. But it's not hard to hide or make alcohol. What happens to those who are found guilty of violating the ban?”

"The part about kidnapping the family's daughters is similar to Ganelon's method, but as a warning I hear that swords are given to the husband and wife or to the father and son, and they're made to kill each other with it. It seems that they even bet on who will win."

Tigre clenched his fist after hearing the conversation.

Mashas placed a wrinkled hand on Tigre's knee as he was about to stand up.


“Calm down.”

“How can I possibly remain calm!?”

“Though it may be harsh of me to say this, nothing would change, even if you said something.”

He was right. Tigre sat back down, but his rage was still boiling inside him.

He desperately ground his teeth and held his tongue in order to restrain himself from acting on impulse.

He was angry because Ganelon and Thenardier did not regard the people within their dominion as humans. They did not hesitate in their cruelty. He was angry at the men who spoke lightly of such cruel matters and those who overlooked such things without any scruple. Finally, he was angry at his own powerlessness, as he knew he could do nothing.

“The story just now... is it true?”

“Though it is a rumor, there have been many others similar to this one. Still, the people in question have not denied it. You rarely come to the capital, so it's no wonder you didn't know about this.”

Maybe this really couldn't be helped.

Tigre hardly left his territory, the land of Alsace.

He had no desire to rise in the world and gain fame or glory, nor did he have any ambition. That's why he was not interested in his status as an aristocrat.

Plus, in his mind, he had no intention of dealing with Zion, who was one of the sons of the nobles.

“His Majesty still tolerates such behavior...?” he asked fearfully.


He did not want to believe it.

“Certainly, His Majesty has said nothing to them at the present.”

Mashas's stocky body trembled as he shook his head grumpily.

“I believe His Majesty has his own matters to settle. One day, if His Majesty can't control them anymore, at least Prince Regnas should...”

Mashas's eyes clung to the slender hope. Suddenly, he looked up and stared at Tigre. Distracted, Tigre saw Mashas's finger coming towards him, aiming at his mouth, and poking him there.

“Fue...?”

It was too abrupt. No words could come out from Tigre's mouth.

Furthermore, the hand blocking his mouth was kind of cold, and had an indescribable iron taste.

<center><big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big></center>

When he awoke, a dim ceiling was in Tigre's view.

“--- So you finally woke up.”

Tigre heard a voice which lacked intonation. Immediately after that, he felt something withdrawn from his mouth.

What left his mouth was a sword.


The owner of this sword was a woman with golden hair whom he had never seen before.

“... Where should I start.”

“By the way, this is my first time waking a person in such a way.”

She returned with a gaze and frosty words. Tigre was at a loss and tried greeting her for the time being.

“... Good morning.”

“It is one koku (two hours) through the day.”

Tigre set up and looked at the woman while scratching his head.

She wore a skirt and short-sleeved shirt. She had long gloves which reached to her elbows and boots up to her knees. At her waist was her sheathed sword.

She was possibly taller than Tigre, and seemed to be two or three years older.

She was unmistakably a beautiful woman, but her scarce expressions gave her face a hard look, leaving her with an unsociable impression.

There were three particularly eye-catching features.

Tied on the left side of her head was long, golden hair.

Her azure eyes were as cold as marble.

And though she was tall and well balanced, she had ample bosoms which did not match her slender build.


Tigre inadvertently stared at the two swellings which bulged from beneath her clothes. The woman flashed her sword and threw an unkind remark.

“--- If you don't wake up properly, I will skewer you.”

“... I'm sorry.”

Blushing, Tigre apologized properly.

He looked about the room. It was small, containing only the bed he slept on.

Sunlight shined through the window, brightly lighting the room. The stone floor was bare, and the only door led to the hallway. His bow leaned against the wall.

“Really, even with the soldiers shouting for your death, even though you are a prisoner... How can you sleep so well.”

“It's one of my special skills.”

“I suggest you hold back a little. You lack tension.”

Anger was mixed into her cold voice. Tigre looked at her in embarrassment.

“Am I really that bad?”

“To the extent that I recall my murderous intent.”

The woman turned about as she threw an answer to Tigre, pushing the door open in the meanwhile.


“Eleanora-sama has called for you. Please follow me.”

Tigre put on his leather shoes and quickly followed after her.

“It's nice to meet you. I am ---”

“This is not our first meeting, Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.”

She answered without turning around, her voice clearly rejecting him.

“My name is Limlisha. It is not necessary to remember it.”

LeitMeritz was a principality located in the Kingdom of Zhcted, under Eleanora's rule.

Eleanora's troops arrived at the capital yesterday. It had been ten days since they departed from Dinant.

After giving a word of thanks to the soldiers, Eleanora left the men to her adjutant, Limlisha, and returned to the King's capital with several men.

It was necessary to report her victory to the King.

During the return to the public capital, Tigre asked the guards a few times, and each time the response was the same.

“We have no need to respond to a prisoner of our Vanadis-sama.”


Even if he asked to meet Eleanora, it would not be possible for them to accept. Regardless, there was no way to do it since she departed for the kingdom's capital to meet the King.

Since he had no other options, Tigre remained quietly obedient.

“... Guess I'll just go with the flow.”

Tigre made that decision and looked at the sky until late at night. During the day, he dozed off on the horse.

Following Limlisha, Tigre walked down the passage of the household.

“What are you looking about so restlessly for?”

Limlisha gazed back at him in amazement as Tigre looked about like a child.

“Yes, I just thought it is a splendid building.”

“You are an Earl, an aristocrat.”

“I am a poor noble. There is no point comparing my small mansion to this one.”

He responded without any shame. Tigre looked about, admiring the ceiling and floor.

Until now, Tigre had never left Brune Kingdom, and now he was in the province's Imperial Palace. The mosaics which decorated the floor were new to him.


The side facing the courtyard was bathed in a column of soft sunlight. In the vast area, soldiers were working hard, training. It was vibrant.

“It's a good atmosphere.”

“That is because this is Eleanora-sama's official palace.”

Limlisha answered as if it were natural.

Soldiers patrolled the corridors, and what he assumed were maids and chamberlains strolled about, likely performing their job.

Tigre thought about the girl who was like a younger sister house-sitting his mansion in his absence.

''--- Teita must be worried.''

When he saw her off, he did not expect such a thing to happen.

''--- Batran, and everyone else as well, I hope you made it back safely.''

In his chest, there was impatience.

He wished to return to Alsace as quickly as possible. However, a prisoner who escapes is punishable by death, so he could only remain quiet.

They finally left the palace.


He walked for a while before Limlisha stopped her feet.

“... We are here.”

He was brought to a training ground near the rampart.

Eleanora stood with three armed soldiers amongst the forty. She was clothed in shades of blue with her longsword in its argent sheathe at her waist.

“If you make any strange movements... No, please do so. It would save quite a bit of time and effort.”

Limlisha spoke as she let the sound of her sword escape its sheathe at her waist.

Though there was an obvious hostility, Tigre simply ignored it.

''--- It can't be helped. I'm a prisoner now; we were enemies just ten days ago.''

“Hm, you came.”

Eleanora noticed Tigre and walked up to him cheerfully. She smiled to Tigre first, then Limlisha.

“You've worked hard. Still, it took you quite some time to come here.”

“I apologize. He did not wake up so easily.”

“You didn't wake up?”


Eleanora looked doubtful hearing the story of him waking up only when he had a sword in his mouth. Her shoulders trembled as she held back her laughter.

“Even as a captive, you slept so deeply.”

“He is simply dull.”

At last, Eleanora laughed and turned to Tigre.

“Tigrevurmud Vorn, it's quite a long name for a person of Brune. Does it have an origin?”

“I received an ancestral name. If you find it difficult, you may call me Tigre.”

Tigre cited the phrase he was accustomed to. He felt odd being called Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.

Eleanora's face suddenly glowed. The dignity as a Vanadis the soldiers knew was gone; she held the expression appropriate of a girl her age.

“In that case, Ellen is fine as well. I would prefer it if you use that name.”

Tigre stared at her involuntarily. She spoke in an intimate manner with a prisoner. Saying it poorly, she was being overly familiar.

“Eleanora-sama.”

Though Limlisha reproached her, she showed no sign of fear.


“He's my prisoner. This much is fine, Lim.”

“Lim?”

Hearing the name, Tigre looked at Limlisha in surprise.

“I'll tell you now. She is one of my escorts whose horse you shot down, and she was the girl who took you here from Dinant.”

Certainly, her physique matched.

Though puzzled as to how he should react, Tigre thanked her honestly.

“Though it may be strange of me to say this, thank you for bringing me here safely.”

Tigre had heard stories of prisoners being mocked and assaulted or killed by torture in a convoy. Some died without having a single meal.

However, on the way back from Dinant, Tigre was never abused. He was even given proper food.

Though it may have been because he was Ellen's captive, Limlisha – that is, Lim, was the one who properly managed him.

She did not respond to Tigre. What had to be done was done.

However, Lim hid her anger as she was thanked by ignoring Tigre and facing Ellen.


“Eleanora-sama, there is still work to be done today. You should finish your trivial errands early, correct?”

“I know, I know.”

Ellen smiled bitterly and waved. She faced Tigre and smiled deliberately.

“I would like to clarify things first, Tigre... no, Lord Vorn. As per the treaty between our countries, you will be treated as a prisoner of war. If, in fifty days time, the demanded ransom has not been delivered by the Kingdom of Brune, that is, if a ransom has not been paid to me, you will formally become mine as per the agreement. What binds this contract is the name and honor of the God, Radegast. Is this acceptable?”

Though hardly suitable, Tigre nodded reluctantly.

It was a contract held between every country on the treatment of prisoners of war.

It was made to avoid abuse, humiliation, and, frankly, murder. It was a rule which allowed for negotiations between countries to advance efficiently.

“Well, you might be a bit worried about the ransom, though.”

Tigre heard the number come from Ellen's mouth and stood rooted to the spot with his mouth agape.


It was a number close to the total tax revenue raised by Alsace in three years time.

He felt dizzy from the impact.

“... Is it possible to reduce the amount?”

“No.”

A flat response.

''--- Well, there's no reason for her to.''

In many cases, the goal of taking an enemy captive was to retrieve a ransom. It was unlikely she would decrease it so easily.

“You will live here in the Imperial Palace. Needless to say, any attempt to escape will be met with death penalty.”

He was like a fish dying out of water. Tigre desperately searched his memory for the savings within his territory.

It amounted to approximately one year's worth of tax revenue, so it was hardly enough.

''--- If I can speak to Teita or Batran, or perhaps Sir Mashas, who is more widely known, they may be able to raise the money.''

The preparations for the ransom were, simply put, hopeless.

He felt a pain between his eyes as he thought about his gloomy future. He nearly fainted, but before it happened, Tigre somehow managed to gather strength in his legs.


Supporting his body and limbs with all the strength he could muster, he looked back at Ellen.

''--- I must return to Alsace.''

''I was born and raised there. It is an important land I inherited from my father.''

''I'm worried about the soldiers' safety as well. I'm certain my people are worried.''

''Above all, I promised Teita I would return.''

''I wish to answer their desires.''

“So... What business do you have to call me to such a place?”

Tigre spoke with impudent words and a tone to match. Ellen's crimson eyes smiled happily as she looked at him with admiration.

“Of course, that is not all I called you here for.”

Ellen pointed to a training bow sitting along the wall.

“Shoot an arrow from here and hit that.”

“Is that it?”

Tigre, who was on the defensive, felt it was rather anti-climactic.

The distance to the target was three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters). Even for those skilled with the bow, the distance would seem like a bad joke.


Shooting an arrow at that distance is already in itself a challenge; to also hit the target would make it nothing short of impossible.

However, the distance was not a big deal for Tigre.

Though he did not know what she was plotting, he decided to do it quickly.

One of the soldiers brought a bow and four arrows. The man had delicate features and beautiful, shiny black hair reached down to his shoulders.

After Tigre received the bow and arrow from him, his eyebrows knitted slightly.

“What a terrible bow...”

The material was hardly suitable, and the condition of the grip was poor. The stringing, too, was poorly done. There was also some warping. It was clear what his intention was.

Ellen glanced at him at a distance like a child, filled with expectation. ''Is she not involved? If that's the case, it's unlikely this is a standard bow for the Zhcted Army.''

He was unsure if she knew of this.

An unpleasant thought crossed his mind. Thinking back, the bows in Brune were not that good, either.


''--- It can't be an issue of the maker's ability... In the first place, there is no such profession as a bow craftsman.''

Tigre's bow was made by his father when he was small. The choice of materials, as well, was made according to the knowledge and technology of other countries, such as Zhcted.

The accuracy of his arrow was not due to just Tigre's skill but the quality of the tool as well.

While pretending to check the condition of the bow, he looked at the soldier who passed him the bow in his peripheral vision and saw several soldiers grinning.

“Such a petty trick.”

Because he was angry, a murmur leaked from his mouth.

“What is it?”

Lim, who stood nearby, looked at him dubiously. Apparently she had not heard his words. Still, complaining about the quality of the bow as a prisoner of war was cumbersome.

“I wish to confirm something. It is not necessary for me to hit the target with all four arrows, only one, correct?”

“That is a rather timid remark for a person who killed my horse with one arrow.”

Though she thought Tigre was being sarcastic, she remained expressionless. There was no sign of malice. It seems she had not noticed the bow was inferior.


“If your physical condition is poor, I can tell Eleanora-sama to hold this another day.”

“No, I will do it.”

He answered with a strong tone. Tigre set the bow in his hand.

“However, please allow me to hit the target with only one arrow. I am not as confident with an unfamiliar bow.”

Lim bowed in assent and immediately walked to Ellen. After speaking a few words, Ellen looked at him devoid of any dissatisfaction, as if saying “Please begin.”

Tigre nocked the first arrow and released it.

It stalled before it reached the target, falling to the ground less than two hundred alsin away. Laughter and sneers were heard amongst the soldiers.

He did not mind it and released the next arrow.

The hum of the arrow sounded as it flew in an arc. It hit the castle wall, far from the target.

The soldiers laughed loudly. Some shook their shoulders, others looked at him with pity or contempt. Many gazes pierced Tigre.

“Are you doing this seriously?”


Lim, speaking in an irritated voice, looked to Ellen.

Ellen looked troubled. Though she was trying to properly solve a problem, she looked at him as if she were scolded by a teacher.

“I'll do it.”

Tigre eagerly replied and nocked the third arrow.

“Hey, are you still continuing? You're really willing to make a spectacle of yourself, still?”

“Maybe you'd like a replacement. Though he can reach the target, he can't even shoot straight.”

“Vanadis-sama, did you really make a man like this your captive?”

“This is quite a splendid show. I wonder if something new will be shown tomorrow.”

Though the soldiers deliberately spoke ill, Tigre was not bothered.

He was accustomed to such abuse. He had received mental abuse incomparable to this many times.

He took a deep breath and looked at the sky for a change of pace, moving his neck around.

In Tigre's vision was a black shadow.

''--- What is that?''

His neck stopped moving and he looked closely.


In an instant, he understood the identity of the shadow. Chills ran down Tigre's spine as he screamed at Ellen.

“Get down!”

''--- An arbalest...!''

It was different from the bow Tigre used. It was a mechanical bow; the bowstring was pulled by a winch and shot with a trigger.

It was difficult to maintain and prone to failure, but it could reach three-hundred-fifty alsin (approximately three-hundred-fifty meters) at maximum and could easily pass through shields and armor with enough force for the bolt to come out the other side.

The black shadow on the rampart held one.

A thick bolt was released from the arbalest.

The roar of air sped straight toward Ellen. She had no time to avoid it.

However, Ellen did not panic, nor did she move from her spot.

“--- Arifal!”

Muttering those words like a spell, the sword at her waist gave off a spark, cutting the atmosphere and scattering particles of silver.

In a moment, the air rapidly swelled, like an explosion. A storm raged about her.


Her long hair of silver-white danced with the wind. The bolt, entwined in the intense storm, was thrown far off orbit.

It passed through the empty space away from her and fell to the ground weakly.

''--- What just happened?''

Tigre stared in blank surprise at Ellen.

It was not a coincidence; that was impossible.

While learning the bow, Tigre learned about the arbalest. He was knowledgeable about the power of the thick bolts. A wind could not conveniently blow it out of its orbit.

“Capture that man!”

Lim shouted. All the soldiers held a bow, however, far from hitting the shadow, they could not even reach the rampart.

The people with a sword or spear ran to the rampart.

The soldier guarding the wall, in response to the commotion, began chasing the shadow.

''--- This has nothing to do with me.''

Tigre muttered to himself. Though he shouted on reflex, he was not Ellen's subordinate, nor was he a man of this city.

While thinking that, suddenly, Tigre remembered his first meeting with Ellen.


“You're skilled.”

She smiled as she said so.

''Teita, Batran and his men, my late father, when was I last praised for my bow arm?''

“Should I capture him alive?”

Nocking the arrow, Tigre asked Lim in a flat tone.

“Is this really a situation where you can say that...?”

Grasping the sword with her hand until it went white, Lim stared at the shadow on the rampart in chagrin. She wanted to lead the soldiers, but could not leave Ellen's side.

The shadow ran quickly across the wall. Once he reached the tower, he could quickly escape outside.

“I understand. I'll get his foot.”

Tigre said those words as he strongly drew his bow to the limit.

After shooting the previous two arrows, he understood its condition perfectly.

''--- At this distance, I won't miss.''

Lim looked at him in doubt.

Then her gaze changed to one of surprise.


The bowstring trembled.

The arrow resounded with a sharp buzz as it drew a large arc, piercing the leg of the shadow.

The shadow fell on the rampart and was caught by the soldiers who finally caught up.

“What... was that?”

One of the soldiers on the rampart looked down at Tigre. No other words would come out.

The other soldiers, too, looked at Tigre in amazement.

“Impossible. He shot over three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters) from that position to the rampart...”

“No, if you think about the height of the tower, it could be even more. No way.”

“I can't believe it... Is that a human skill, or can all people of Brune do this?”

Though the voices showed astonishment and shock, there was clearly admiration in them as well.

There were those rooted to the spot, others looked to the sky, and some covered their forehead with their hand and recited the names of the Gods.

The malice in the training area no longer remained.

“He did something like that... with such a terrible bow...”

The soldiers who passed Tigre the bow were pale with fear.


“--- You got me.”

Tigre shrugged his shoulders. Though he held no emotions in his chest anymore, he was puzzled. He noticed he was bathed in gazes all at once.

The fourth arrow remained in his hand. Though Lim had seen it before, she did not look any differently than the other soldiers. When his eyes met hers, he understood her body was tense.

He looked back at Ellen.

“I'll ask you now. What about the fourth shot?”

“It's enough with this. I'd rather not lose this.”

Ellen's argent hair moved gently as she shook her head.

“You did well.”

Ellen smiled at Tigre with sincerity, her sword still sheathed at her waist. A wind blew from somewhere, tickling Tigre's hair.

''--- Just now...''

Tigre placed his hand in his hair involuntarily. He thought Ellen had somehow used her longsword to produce the wind.

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| Back to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_01_Chapter1_-_MTL|Chapter 1 - MTL]]
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| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_01_Chapter3_-_MTL|Chapter 3 - MTL]]
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Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume 01 Chapter2 - MTL

2017-02-27T08:36:03Z

An Orange Peon: /* LeitMeritz */

<noinclude>{{MTL-old}}</noinclude>
=== LeitMeritz ===

He was having a bad dream.

''Our forces were gathered on a small hill.''

''It was meal time. The soldiers put a pot that was as deep as a barrel on a mound, which had been turned into a stove. They were preparing a fish stew.''

''There was a slight ridge before the Dinant Plains, which plateaued with no end in sight.''

''There were twenty thousand Brune soldiers sharing a meal with his own troops. Thousands of streams of heat floated upward, and the soldiers seemed as though they were imprisoned in the steam.''

Tigre and Mashas were talking while stirring the food in the pot when a few young men appeared in front of their eyes with the colliding sound of their armor.

“So you came as well, Vorn.”

The man who said that with an openly mocking tone was Zion Thenardier.

The Thenardier house held the title of Duke. It was a long and distinguished family incomparable to the Vorn household. It had many aristocrats who held enormous power, and the territory it owned was wide. It was said that the number of soldiers mobilized by their household could reach ten thousand. Even in this war, which had been organized in a haste, they commanded a force four thousand strong. Zion was the Thenardier family's eldest son and heir. He was currently 17 years old. Though he wore decorated armor and bore a splendid sword at his waist in an imposing manner worthy of his lineage, he always had an expression as though he was looking down on others. At his back was an entourage of young men flattering him. Like Zion, they were aristocrats born into families holding the rank of marquis or duke. They wore glittering armor with their respective household's crest. They looked at Tigre with a grimace, and did not seem to harbor any good intentions.


Tigre could not simply ignore them, and felt obliged to show a minimal courtesy.

“... I am here to serve as His Majesty's loyal subject, so I came here as quickly as possible.”

“Though it's quite admirable to say that, I'm not sure how helpful you'll be.”

After Zion ridiculed Tigre, the laughter of the other nobles overlapped with his own. Perhaps it was because their ages were similar, but Zion frequently made fun of Tigre in such a manner.

“I told you before, your family has merely hunted for four or five generations. I can hardly recognize you as a noble.”

He spat out those words arrogantly and immediately tried to stomp Tigre's bow, which was laying on the ground.

Tigre moved reflexively, picking up his bow as quickly as a wild beast.


''“Uwah!”''

Zion stumbled, losing his balance and falling hard on the ground, taking one of his followers down with him.

“How dare you do that to Master Zion!”

To the enraged followers who roared at him, Tigre yelled back:

“I was protecting my bow!”

“A bow? If it's a bow, so what, you coward!”

“That's right. There's nothing wrong in breaking this crap. You should be on the front lines with a sword!”

“I'm sure that the God of War, Trigraf, would never give his blessings to someone like you!”

The other followers expressed their approval one after another. Tigre grit his teeth in anger.

In the Brune Kingdom, their complaints were acceptable.

''“The bow is the weapon of a coward who does not have the courage to expose his body before a naked blade.”''

Such train of thoughts were deeply rooted in the Brune Army, which made little use of the bow. Not only were the achievements of archers disregarded, but archers in general were as well.

''“Archers are all drafted hunters, farmers who do not own land, people who have committed a serious crime as a warrior -- or those who aren't skilled with the sword or the spear, to fill out the ranks."''


Due to such a status quo, those who used bows, even as soldiers, were regarded as criminals and useless failures that were looked down upon.

Although Tigre's ancestor had been presented with territory for hunting and the title of earl for his distinguished military services, Mashas had told him, "If he hadn't been a hunter, he'd probably have been promoted to an even higher rank."

“Calm down, you guys.”

With some help, Zion managed to stand up, and put a stop to his followers' actions. Though they were reluctant, they stopped blaming Tigre.

Zion put on an act while getting rid of the dust on his armor. He crossed his arms and laughed scornfully at Tigre.

"The reason why you stick to the bow is because you can't handle a sword or a spear, right? You probably think that if you head into the battlefield with a bow, it would barely be enough to pretend at being a soldier, right?"

Tigre remained silent. It was true he was poor with the sword and spear. If he objected here, Zion would ask him to take up a sword or a spear and demonstrate his skills, and laugh at him. This had already happened once before.

Zion did not stop taunting him there.

“To begin with, you are an earl of the Kingdom of Brune, yet you can't use a sword or a spear and plan to head to the battlefield without wearing armor. Aren't you ashamed? Guys, look at his shabby appearance. He has a leather plate, leather gauntlets and even leather leggings. All his equipment is made of leather. At most, his mantle is decent, but if that's the only presentable part, then I really feel sad about the financial situation of his territory.”


“--- Lord Zion.”

Mashas, who had remained silent until then, spoke sullenly.

“Your words have been insightful. However, since you said so much at once, surely you have become thirsty.”

He continued while pointing in a certain direction.

“There's some rayion wine being distributed over there. Why not try drinking some, to relieve your thirst?”

Using a polite and humble tone, Mashas's attitude pressured the other side.

The dignity of this old knight, who had just turned 55, was intimidating to Zion.

Zion grunted and stepped back involuntarily as he became aware that he forgot his manners. He then snorted and turned around.

“Hey, let's go.”

Tigre watched Zion and the others walk away, and thanked Mashas after checking his bow's condition.

“Thank you. You saved me.”

“It's nothing. I should be the one to apologize. It would have been better if I had intervened earlier, but I couldn't find an opportunity to barge in.”


From Zion's perspective, Mashas was a weak aristocrat no different from Tigre. If the former didn't get the timing right, he would simply snort with laughter.

While returning to stir the pan, Mashas looked about the area casually.

Whether soldier or aristocrat, all were concentrated on their pots, or were taking care of their arms while entertaining themselves with chatter. Not a single person looked their way, and that indifference reached an unnatural state.

They were all afraid of Zion, so they avoided relations with Tigre.

“I now understand that handling the sword and spear is not proof of courage.”

Mashas spoke in irony. Tigre wanted to say something to him, but shut his mouth at the end. Not far away, the barely audible voices of nobles gathered together reached his ears.

“By the way, did you hear about what Duke Ganelon did?”

“Are you talking about him increasing taxes, using war preparations as an excuse?”

“That's right. If there is a young girl in a house that's not paying taxes, she will be taken away. If there isn't one, then the house is set on fire.”

“It's really enviable. I'd like to have the authority to place a temporary tax too.”


The aristocrat didn't look resentful. He was simply grumbling in dissatisfaction.

Duke Ganelon was one of the most influential nobles of Brune Kingdom, on par with Thenardier. There were many powerful aristocrats amongst his relatives as well. His power, too, was something not even the king could ignore.

When it came to territory, Brune nobles were allowed to govern pieces of land, but for certain privileges, such as setting taxes, the permission of the king was necessary.

Duke Ganelon not only went against this rule and imposed taxes without consulting the king, but also did these inhuman things in his territory. Yet, the king still tolerated it.

“For a story like that, Duke Thenardier is not inferior. He ordered his people to stop drinking for as long as the war goes on. They had to hand over all of their alcohol as an oath to the gods."

regarding doing that kind of things. He ordered his people to stop drinking as long as the war is going on. They had to hand over all alcohol as oath to the Gods.”

“I see. But it's not hard to hide or make alcohol. What happens to those who are found guilty of violating the ban?”

"The part about kidnapping the family's daughters is similar to Ganelon's method, but as a warning I hear that swords are given to the husband and wife or to the father and son, and they're made to kill each other with it. It seems that they even bet on who will win."

Tigre clenched his fist after hearing the conversation.

Mashas placed a wrinkled hand on Tigre's knee as he was about to stand up.


“Calm down.”

“How can I possibly remain calm!?”

“Though it may be harsh of me to say this, nothing would change, even if you said something.”

He was right. Tigre sat back down, but his rage was still boiling inside him.

He desperately ground his teeth and held his tongue in order to restrain himself from acting on impulse.

He was angry because Ganelon and Thenardier did not regard the people within their dominion as humans. They did not hesitate in their cruelty. He was angry at the men who spoke lightly of such cruel matters and those who overlooked such things without any scruple. Finally, he was angry at his own powerlessness, as he knew he could do nothing.

“The story just now... is it true?”

“Though it is a rumor, there have been many others similar to this one. Still, the people in question have not denied it. You rarely come to the capital, so it's no wonder you didn't know about this.”

Maybe this really couldn't be helped.

Tigre hardly left his territory, the land of Alsace.

He had no desire to rise in the world and gain fame or glory, nor did he have any ambition. That's why he was not interested in his status as an aristocrat.

Plus, in his mind, he had no intention of dealing with Zion, who was one of the sons of the nobles.

“His Majesty still tolerates such behavior...?” he asked fearfully.


He did not want to believe it.

“Certainly, His Majesty has said nothing to them at the present.”

Mashas's stocky body trembled as he shook his head grumpily.

“I believe His Majesty has his own matters to settle. One day, if His Majesty can't control them anymore, at least Prince Regnas should...”

Mashas's eyes clung to the slender hope. Suddenly, he looked up and stared at Tigre. Distracted, Tigre saw Mashas's finger coming towards him, aiming at his mouth, and poking him there.

“Fue...?”

It was too abrupt. No words could come out from Tigre's mouth.

Furthermore, the hand blocking his mouth was kind of cold, and had an indescribable iron taste.

<center><big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big></center>

When he awoke, a dim ceiling was in Tigre's view.

“--- So you finally woke up.”

Tigre heard a voice which lacked intonation. Immediately after that, he felt something withdrawn from his mouth.

What left his mouth was a sword.


The owner of this sword was a woman with golden hair whom he had never seen before.

“... Where should I start.”

“By the way, this is my first time waking a person in such a way.”

She returned with a gaze and frosty words. Tigre was at a loss and tried greeting her for the time being.

“... Good morning.”

“It is one koku (two hours) through the day.”

Tigre set up and looked at the woman while scratching his head.

She wore a skirt and short-sleeved shirt. She had long gloves which reached to her elbows and boots up to her knees. At her waist was her sheathed sword.

She was possibly taller than Tigre, and seemed to be two or three years older.

She was unmistakably a beautiful woman, but her scarce expressions gave her face a hard look, leaving her with an unsociable impression.

There were three particularly eye-catching features.

Tied on the left side of her head was long, golden hair.

Her azure eyes were as cold as marble.

And though she was tall and well balanced, she had ample bosoms which did not match her slender build.


Tigre inadvertently stared at the two swellings which bulged from beneath her clothes. The woman flashed her sword and threw an unkind remark.

“--- If you don't wake up properly, I will skewer you.”

“... I'm sorry.”

Blushing, Tigre apologized properly.

He looked about the room. It was small, containing only the bed he slept on.

Sunlight shined through the window, brightly lighting the room. The stone floor was bare, and the only door led to the hallway. His bow leaned against the wall.

“Really, even with the soldiers shouting for your death, even though you are a prisoner... How can you sleep so well.”

“It's one of my special skills.”

“I suggest you hold back a little. You lack tension.”

Anger was mixed into her cold voice. Tigre looked at her in embarrassment.

“Am I really that bad?”

“To the extent that I recall my murderous intent.”

The woman turned about as she threw an answer to Tigre, pushing the door open in the meanwhile.


“Eleanora-sama has called for you. Please follow me.”

Tigre put on his leather shoes and quickly followed after her.

“It's nice to meet you. I am ---”

“This is not our first meeting, Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.”

She answered without turning around, her voice clearly rejecting him.

“My name is Limlisha. It is not necessary to remember it.”

LeitMeritz was a principality located in the Kingdom of Zhcted, under Eleanora's rule.

Eleanora's troops arrived at the capital yesterday. It had been ten days since they departed from Dinant.

After giving a word of thanks to the soldiers, Eleanora left the men to her adjutant, Limlisha, and returned to the King's capital with several men.

It was necessary to report her victory to the King.

During the return to the public capital, Tigre asked the guards a few times, and each time the response was the same.

“We have no need to respond to a prisoner of our Vanadis-sama.”


Even if he asked to meet Eleanora, it would not be possible for them to accept. Regardless, there was no way to do it since she departed for the kingdom's capital to meet the King.

Since he had no other options, Tigre remained quietly obedient.

“... Guess I'll just go with the flow.”

Tigre made that decision and looked at the sky until late at night. During the day, he dozed off on the horse.

Following Limlisha, Tigre walked down the passage of the household.

“What are you looking about so restlessly for?”

Limlisha gazed back at him in amazement as Tigre looked about like a child.

“Yes, I just thought it is a splendid building.”

“You are an Earl, an aristocrat.”

“I am a poor noble. There is no point comparing my small mansion to this one.”

He responded without any shame. Tigre looked about, admiring the ceiling and floor.

Until now, Tigre had never left Brune Kingdom, and now he was in the province's Imperial Palace. The mosaics which decorated the floor were new to him.


The side facing the courtyard was bathed in a column of soft sunlight. In the vast area, soldiers were working hard, training. It was vibrant.

“It's a good atmosphere.”

“That is because this is Eleanora-sama's official palace.”

Limlisha answered as if it were natural.

Soldiers patrolled the corridors, and what he assumed were maids and chamberlains strolled about, likely performing their job.

Tigre thought about the girl who was like a younger sister house-sitting his mansion in his absence.

''--- Teita must be worried.''

When he saw her off, he did not expect such a thing to happen.

''--- Batran, and everyone else as well, I hope you made it back safely.''

In his chest, there was impatience.

He wished to return to Alsace as quickly as possible. However, a prisoner who escapes is punishable by death, so he could only remain quiet.

They finally left the palace.


He walked for a while before Limlisha stopped her feet.

“... We are here.”

He was brought to a training ground near the rampart.

Eleanora stood with three armed soldiers amongst the forty. She was clothed in shades of blue with her longsword in its argent sheathe at her waist.

“If you make any strange movements... No, please do so. It would save quite a bit of time and effort.”

Limlisha spoke as she let the sound of her sword escape its sheathe at her waist.

Though there was an obvious hostility, Tigre simply ignored it.

''--- It can't be helped. I'm a prisoner now; we were enemies just ten days ago.''

“Hm, you came.”

Eleanora noticed Tigre and walked up to him cheerfully. She smiled to Tigre first, then Limlisha.

“You've worked hard. Still, it took you quite some time to come here.”

“I apologize. He did not wake up so easily.”

“You didn't wake up?”


Eleanora looked doubtful hearing the story of him waking up only when he had a sword in his mouth. Her shoulders trembled as she held back her laughter.

“Even as a captive, you slept so deeply.”

“He is simply dull.”

At last, Eleanora laughed and turned to Tigre.

“Tigrevurmud Vorn, it's quite a long name for a person of Brune. Does it have an origin?”

“I received an ancestral name. If you find it difficult, you may call me Tigre.”

Tigre cited the phrase he was accustomed to. He felt odd being called Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.

Eleanora's face suddenly glowed. The dignity as a Vanadis the soldiers knew was gone; she held the expression appropriate of a girl her age.

“In that case, Ellen is fine as well. I would prefer it if you use that name.”

Tigre stared at her involuntarily. She spoke in an intimate manner with a prisoner. Saying it poorly, she was being overly familiar.

“Eleanora-sama.”

Though Limlisha reproached her, she showed no sign of fear.


“He's my prisoner. This much is fine, Lim.”

“Lim?”

Hearing the name, Tigre looked at Limlisha in surprise.

“I'll tell you now. She is one of my escorts whose horse you shot down, and she was the girl who took you here from Dinant.”

Certainly, her physique matched.

Though puzzled as to how he should react, Tigre thanked her honestly.

“Though it may be strange of me to say this, thank you for bringing me here safely.”

Tigre had heard stories of prisoners being mocked and assaulted or killed by torture in a convoy. Some died without having a single meal.

However, on the way back from Dinant, Tigre was never abused. He was even given proper food.

Though it may have been because he was Ellen's captive, Limlisha – that is, Lim, was the one who properly managed him.

She did not respond to Tigre. What had to be done was done.

However, Lim hid her anger as she was thanked by ignoring Tigre and facing Ellen.


“Eleanora-sama, there is still work to be done today. You should finish your trivial errands early, correct?”

“I know, I know.”

Ellen smiled bitterly and waved. She faced Tigre and smiled deliberately.

“I would like to clarify things first, Tigre... no, Lord Vorn. As per the treaty between our countries, you will be treated as a prisoner of war. If, in fifty days time, the demanded ransom has not been delivered by the Kingdom of Brune, that is, if a ransom has not been paid to me, you will formally become mine as per the agreement. What binds this contract is the name and honor of the God, Radegast. Is this acceptable?”

Though hardly suitable, Tigre nodded reluctantly.

It was a contract held between every country on the treatment of prisoners of war.

It was made to avoid abuse, humiliation, and, frankly, murder. It was a rule which allowed for negotiations between countries to advance efficiently.

“Well, you might be a bit worried about the ransom, though.”

Tigre heard the number come from Ellen's mouth and stood rooted to the spot with his mouth agape.


It was a number close to the total tax revenue raised by Alsace in three years time.

He felt dizzy from the impact.

“... Is it possible to reduce the amount?”

“No.”

A flat response.

''--- Well, there's no reason for her to.''

In many cases, the goal of taking an enemy captive was to retrieve a ransom. It was unlikely she would decrease it so easily.

“You will live here in the Imperial Palace. Needless to say, any attempt to escape will be met with death penalty.”

He was like a fish dying out of water. Tigre desperately searched his memory for the savings within his territory.

It amounted to approximately one year's worth of tax revenue, so it was hardly enough.

''--- If I can speak to Teita or Batran, or perhaps Sir Mashas, who is more widely known, they may be able to raise the money.''

The preparations for the ransom were, simply put, hopeless.

He felt a pain between his eyes as he thought about his gloomy future. He nearly fainted, but before it happened, Tigre somehow managed to gather strength in his legs.


Supporting his body and limbs with all the strength he could muster, he looked back at Ellen.

''--- I must return to Alsace.''

''I was born and raised there. It is an important land I inherited from my father.''

''I'm worried about the soldiers' safety as well. I'm certain my people are worried.''

''Above all, I promised Teita I would return.''

''I wish to answer their desires.''

“So... What business do you have to call me to such a place?”

Tigre spoke with impudent words and a tone to match. Ellen's crimson eyes smiled happily as she looked at him with admiration.

“Of course, that is not all I called you here for.”

Ellen pointed to a training bow sitting along the wall.

“Shoot an arrow from here and hit that.”

“Is that it?”

Tigre, who was on the defensive, felt it was rather anti-climactic.

The distance to the target was three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters). Even for those skilled with the bow, the distance would seem like a bad joke.


Shooting an arrow at that distance is already in itself a challenge; to also hit the target would make it nothing short of impossible.

However, the distance was not a big deal for Tigre.

Though he did not know what she was plotting, he decided to do it quickly.

One of the soldiers brought a bow and four arrows. The man had delicate features and beautiful, shiny black hair reached down to his shoulders.

After Tigre received the bow and arrow from him, his eyebrows knitted slightly.

“What a terrible bow...”

The material was hardly suitable, and the condition of the grip was poor. The stringing, too, was poorly done. There was also some warping. It was clear what his intention was.

Ellen glanced at him at a distance like a child, filled with expectation. ''Is she not involved? If that's the case, it's unlikely this is a standard bow for the Zhcted Army.''

He was unsure if she knew of this.

An unpleasant thought crossed his mind. Thinking back, the bows in Brune were not that good, either.


''--- It can't be an issue of the maker's ability... In the first place, there is no such profession as a bow craftsman.''

Tigre's bow was made by his father when he was small. The choice of materials, as well, was made according to the knowledge and technology of other countries, such as Zhcted.

The accuracy of his arrow was not due to just Tigre's skill but the quality of the tool as well.

While pretending to check the condition of the bow, he looked at the soldier who passed him the bow in his peripheral vision and saw several soldiers grinning.

“Such a petty trick.”

Because he was angry, a murmur leaked from his mouth.

“What is it?”

Lim, who stood nearby, looked at him dubiously. Apparently she had not heard his words. Still, complaining about the quality of the bow as a prisoner of war was cumbersome.

“I wish to confirm something. It is not necessary for me to hit the target with all four arrows, only one, correct?”

“That is a rather timid remark for a person who killed my horse with one arrow.”

Though she thought Tigre was being sarcastic, she remained expressionless. There was no sign of malice. It seems she had not noticed the bow was inferior.


“If your physical condition is poor, I can tell Eleanora-sama to hold this another day.”

“No, I will do it.”

He answered with a strong tone. Tigre set the bow in his hand.

“However, please allow me to hit the target with only one arrow. I am not as confident with an unfamiliar bow.”

Lim bowed in assent and immediately walked to Ellen. After speaking a few words, Ellen looked at him devoid of any dissatisfaction, as if saying “Please begin.”

Tigre nocked the first arrow and released it.

It stalled before it reached the target, falling to the ground less than two hundred alsin away. Laughter and sneers were heard amongst the soldiers.

He did not mind it and released the next arrow.

The hum of the arrow sounded as it flew in an arc. It hit the castle wall, far from the target.

The soldiers laughed loudly. Some shook their shoulders, others looked at him with pity or contempt. Many gazes pierced Tigre.

“Are you doing this seriously?”


Lim, speaking in an irritated voice, looked to Ellen.

Ellen looked troubled. Though she was trying to properly solve a problem, she looked at him as if she were scolded by a teacher.

“I'll do it.”

Tigre eagerly replied and nocked the third arrow.

“Hey, are you still continuing? You're really willing to make a spectacle of yourself, still?”

“Maybe you'd like a replacement. Though he can reach the target, he can't even shoot straight.”

“Vanadis-sama, did you really make a man like this your captive?”

“This is quite a splendid show. I wonder if something new will be shown tomorrow.”

Though the soldiers deliberately spoke ill, Tigre was not bothered.

He was accustomed to such abuse. He had received mental abuse incomparable to this many times.

He took a deep breath and looked at the sky for a change of pace, moving his neck around.

In Tigre's vision was a black shadow.

''--- What is that?''

His neck stopped moving and he looked closely.


In an instant, he understood the identity of the shadow. Chills ran down Tigre's spine as he screamed at Ellen.

“Get down!”

''--- An arbalest...!''

It was different from the bow Tigre used. It was a mechanical bow; the bowstring was pulled by a winch and shot with a trigger.

It was difficult to maintain and prone to failure, but it could reach three-hundred-fifty alsin (approximately three-hundred-fifty meters) at maximum and could easily pass through shields and armor with enough force for the bolt to come out the other side.

The black shadow on the rampart held one.

A thick bolt was released from the arbalest.

The roar of air sped straight toward Ellen. She had no time to avoid it.

However, Ellen did not panic, nor did she move from her spot.

“--- Arifal!”

Muttering those words like a spell, the sword at her waist gave off a spark, cutting the atmosphere and scattering particles of silver.

In a moment, the air rapidly swelled, like an explosion. A storm raged about her.


Her long hair of silver-white danced with the wind. The bolt, entwined in the intense storm, was thrown far off orbit.

It passed through the empty space away from her and fell to the ground weakly.

''--- What just happened?''

Tigre stared in blank surprise at Ellen.

It was not a coincidence; that was impossible.

While learning the bow, Tigre learned about the arbalest. He was knowledgeable about the power of the thick bolts. A wind could not conveniently blow it out of its orbit.

“Capture that man!”

Lim shouted. All the soldiers held a bow, however, far from hitting the shadow, they could not even reach the rampart.

The people with a sword or spear ran to the rampart.

The soldier guarding the wall, in response to the commotion, began chasing the shadow.

''--- This has nothing to do with me.''

Tigre muttered to himself. Though he shouted on reflex, he was not Ellen's subordinate, nor was he a man of this city.

While thinking that, suddenly, Tigre remembered his first meeting with Ellen.


“You're skilled.”

She smiled as she said so.

''Teita, Batran and his men, my late father, when was I last praised for my bow arm?''

“Should I capture him alive?”

Nocking the arrow, Tigre asked Lim in a flat tone.

“Is this really a situation where you can say that...?”

Grasping the sword with her hand until it went white, Lim stared at the shadow on the rampart in chagrin. She wanted to lead the soldiers, but could not leave Ellen's side.

The shadow ran quickly across the wall. Once he reached the tower, he could quickly escape outside.

“I understand. I'll get his foot.”

Tigre said those words as he strongly drew his bow to the limit.

After shooting the previous two arrows, he understood its condition perfectly.

''--- At this distance, I won't miss.''

Lim looked at him in doubt.

Then her gaze changed to one of surprise.


The bowstring trembled.

The arrow resounded with a sharp buzz as it drew a large arc, piercing the leg of the shadow.

The shadow fell on the rampart and was caught by the soldiers who finally caught up.

“What... was that?”

One of the soldiers on the rampart looked down at Tigre. No other words would come out.

The other soldiers, too, looked at Tigre in amazement.

“Impossible. He shot over three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters) from that position to the rampart...”

“No, if you think about the height of the tower, it could be even more. No way.”

“I can't believe it... Is that a human skill, or can all people of Brune do this?”

Though the voices showed astonishment and shock, there was clearly admiration in them as well.

There were those rooted to the spot, others looked to the sky, and some covered their forehead with their hand and recited the names of the Gods.

The malice in the training area no longer remained.

“He did something like that... with such a terrible bow...”

The soldiers who passed Tigre the bow were pale with fear.


“--- You got me.”

Tigre shrugged his shoulders. Though he held no emotions in his chest anymore, he was puzzled. He noticed he was bathed in gazes all at once.

The fourth arrow remained in his hand. Though Lim had seen it before, she did not look any differently than the other soldiers. When his eyes met hers, he understood her body was tense.

He looked back at Ellen.

“I'll ask you now. What about the fourth shot?”

“It's enough with this. I'd rather not lose this.”

Ellen's argent hair moved gently as she shook her head.

“You did well.”

Ellen smiled at Tigre with sincerity, her sword still sheathed at her waist. A wind blew from somewhere, tickling Tigre's hair.

''--- Just now...''

Tigre placed his hand in his hair involuntarily. He thought Ellen had somehow used her longsword to produce the wind.

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| Back to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_01_Chapter1_-_MTL|Chapter 1 - MTL]]
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| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_01_Chapter3_-_MTL|Chapter 3 - MTL]]
|-
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Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume 01 Chapter2 - MTL

2017-02-26T03:50:04Z

An Orange Peon:

<noinclude>{{MTL-old}}</noinclude>
=== LeitMeritz ===

He was having a bad dream.

''Our forces were gathered on a small hill.''

''It was meal time. The soldiers put a pot that was as deep as a barrel on the mound, which had been turned into a stove. They were preparing a fish stew.''

''There was a slight ridge before the Dinant Plains, which plateaued with no end in sight.''

''There were twenty thousand Brune soldiers sharing a meal with his own troops. Thousands of streams of heat floated upward ,and the soldiers seemed as though they were imprisoned in the steam.''

Tigre and Massas were talking while stirring the food in the pot when a few young men appeared in front of their eyes with the colliding sound of their armor.

“So you came as well, Vorn.”

The man who said that with an openly mocking tone was Zaien Thenardier.

The Thenardier house held the title of Duke. It was a long distinguished family incomparable to the Vorn household. It had many aristocrats who held enormous power, and the territory it owned was wide. It is said the number of soldiers mobilized by the household can reach ten thousand.


Even in this war, which was organized in haste, they commanded a force four thousand strong.

Zaien was the Thenardier family's eldest son and heir to the household. He was currently 17 years old.

Though he wore decorated armor and bore a splendid sword at his waist in an imposing manner, worthy of his lineage, he always had an expression as if looking down on others.

At his back was an entourage of young men flattering him.

Just like Zaien, they were aristocrats born into the families with the ranks of marquis or duke, wearing glittering armor with their respective household crests. They looked at Tigre with a grimace and did not seem to harbor good intentions.

Tigre could not ignore them, and felt obliged to show the minimal courtesy.

“... I am here to serve as His Majesty's loyal subject, so I came here as quickly as possible.”

“Though it's quite admirable to say that, I'm not sure how helpful you'll be.”

After Zaien ridiculed Tigre, the laughter of the other nobles overlapped his own. Maybe because their respective ages were similar, Zaien frequently made fun of Tigre in such a manner.

“I told you before, your family has merely hunted for four or five generations. I can hardly recognize you as a noble.”

He spat out those words arrogantly and immediately tried to stomp Tigre's bow,which was laying on the ground.

Tigre moved in a reflexive manner, picking up his bow as quickly as a wild beast.


“Uwa!”

Zaien stumbled, lost his balance and fell hard on the ground, taking with him one of his followers.

“How dare you do that to master Zaien!”

To the enraged followers who roared at him, Tigre yelled back:

“I was protecting my bow!”

“A bow? If it's a bow, so what, you coward!”

“That's right. There's nothing bad in breaking this crap. You should be on the front lines with a sword!”

“I'm sure the God of War, Trigraf, would never give his blessings to someone like you!”

The other followers expressed their approval one after another. Tigre gritted his teeth in anger.

In the Brune Kingdom, their complaints were acceptable.

“The bow is the arm of a coward who does not have the courage to expose his body before a naked blade.”

Such train of thoughts were deeply rooted in the Brune Army, which made little use of the bow.

It's not only that the archers' achievements were disregarded, but also archers in general.

“The archers are all drafted hunters, farmers who do not own land, people who have committed a serious crime as warriors--or some people to fill the ranks who aren't great with the sword or the spear.”


Due to such a norm, those who used bows, even as soldiers, were regarded as criminals and useless failures that are looked down on.

Though Tigre's ancestor performed distinguished military services for which he was presented with territory for hunting and was promoted to the title of Earl, Massas told him: “If he wasn't a hunter, he'd probably be promoted to an even higher rank.”

“Calm down, you guys.”

Zaien stood up difficultly with some help, and put a stop to his followers' actions.

Though reluctant, they still stopped blaming Tigre.

Zaien put on an act while getting rid of the dust on his armor, crossed his arms and laughed at Tigre in scorn.

“The reason you stick to a bow is that you can't handle a sword or spear, right? You probably think that if you headed to the battlefield with a bow, it could be barely enough to pretend to be a soldier, right?”

Tigre remained silent. It was true he was poor with the sword and spear.

If he objected here, Zaien would ask him to take up a sword or spear and show his skills and laugh at him. This had happened once before.

Zaien's taunt didn't stop here.

“To begin with, you are an Earl of the Kingdom of Brune. Yet, you can't use a sword or a spear and plan to head to the battlefield without wearing armor. Aren't you ashamed? Guys, look at his shabby appearance. He has a leather plate, leather gauntlets and even leather leggings. All his equipment is made of leather. At most, his mantle is decent, but if that's the only presentable part, then I really feel sad about the financial situation of his territory.”


“--- Lord Zaien.”

Massas, who had remained silent until then, spoke sullenly.

“Your words have been insightful. However, since you said so much at once, surely you have become thirsty...”

He continued while pointing in a certain direction.

“There's some rayion wine being distributed over there. Why not try drinking some, to relieve your thirst?”

Using a polite and humble tone, Massas's attitude put pressure on the other side.

The dignity of this old Knight, who had just turned 55, was intimidating to Zaien.

Zaien grunted and stepped back involuntarily as he became aware that he forgot his manners. He then snorted and turned around.

“Hey, let's go.”

Tigre watched Zaien and the others walk away, and thanked Massas after checking his bow's condition.

“Thank you. You saved me.”

“It's nothing. I should be the one to apologize. It would be better if I had intervened earlier, but I couldn't find an opportunity to barge in.”


From Zaien's perspective, Massas was a weak aristocrat no different from Tigre. If the former didn't get the timing right, he would simply snort with laughter.

While returning to stir the pan, Massas looked about the area casually.

Whether soldier or aristocrat, all was concentrated on their pots, or was taking care of their arms while entertaining themselves with chatter. Not a single person looked this way, and that indifference reached an unnatural state.

They were all afraid of Zaien, so they avoided relations with Tigre.

“I now understand that handling the sword and spear is not a proof of courage.”

Massas spoke in irony. Tigre wanted to say something to him, but shut his mouth at the end. Because not far away, the barely audible voices of nobles gathered together reached his ears.

“By the way, did you hear about what Duke Ganelon did?”

“Are you talking about him increasing taxes, using war preparations as excuse?”

“That's right. If there is a young girl in a house that's not paying taxes, she will be taken away. If there isn't one, then the house is set on fire.”

“It's really enviable. I'd like to have the authority to place a temporary tax too.”


The aristocrat didn't look resentful, but was simply grumbling in dissatisfaction.

Duke Ganelon was one of the most influential nobles of Brune Kingdom, on par with Thenardier.

There were also many powerful aristocrats amongst his relatives. His power was something that even the King could not ignore.

Regarding territory, Brune nobles were recognized and allowed to govern a territory, but for certain privileges, such as setting taxes, the permission of the King was necessary.

Duke Ganelon not only went against this rule and imposed tax without consulting the King, but was also did these inhuman things in his territory. Yet, the king still tolerated that.

“For a story like that, Duke Thenardier is not inferior regarding doing that kind of things. He ordered his people to stop drinking as long as the war is going on. They had to hand over all alcohol as oath to the Gods.”

“I see. But it's not hard to hide or to make alcohol. What happens to those who are found guilty of violating the ban?”

“The part about kidnapping the family's daughters is similar to Ganelon's method. But as a warning, I heard that swords were given to husband and wife or the father and son ,and they were made to kill each other.It seems that they even bet on who would win.”

Tigre clenched his fist after hearing the conversation.

Massas placed a wrinkled hand on Tigre's knee as he was about to stand up.


“Calm down.”

“What, how can I possibly remain calm!?”

“Though it may be harsh of me to say this, nothing would change even if you said something.”

He was right. Tigre sat back down, but his rage was still boiling inside him.

He desperately gritted his teeth and held his silence, in order to restrain himself from acting on impulse.

He was angry because Ganelon and Thenardier did not regard the people within their dominion as humans. They did not hesitate in their cruelty. He was angry at the men who spoke lightly of such cruel matters and those who have an overlook those things without any scruple. Finally, he was angry at his powerlessness, as he knew he could do nothing.

“The story just now, is it true?”

“Though it is a rumor... there have been many others similar to this one. Still, the people in question have not denied it. You rarely come to the capital, so no wonder you don't know about this.”

Maybe this really couldn't be helped.

Tigre hardly left his territory, the land of Alsace.

He had no desire to rise in the world and gain fame or glory, nor did he have any ambition. That's why he was not interested in his status as an aristocrat.

Plus, in his mind, he has no intention of dealing with Zaien, who was one of the sons of the nobles.

“His Majesty still tolerates such behavior...?”


Fearfully, he asked.

He did not want to believe it.

“Certainly, His Majesty has said nothing to them at the present.”

Massas' stocky body trembled as he shook his head grumpily.

“I believe His Majesty has his own matters to settle... One day, if His Majesty can't control them anymore, at least Prince Regnas should...”

Massas' eyes clung to the slender hope. Suddenly, he looked up and stared at Tigre. The latter, distracted, saw his finger come towards him, aim at his mouth and poke him there.

“Fue...?”

It was too abrupt. No words could come out from Tigre's mouth.

Furthermore, the hand blocking Tigre's mouth was kind of cold, and had an indescribable iron taste.

<center><big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big></center>

When he awoke, a dim ceiling was in Tigre's view.

“--- So you finally woke up.”

Tigre heard a voice which lacked intonation. Immediately after that, he felt something withdrawn from his mouth.

What left his mouth was a sword.


The owner of this sword was a woman with golden hair whom he had never seen before.

“... Where should I start.”

“By the way, this is my first time waking a person in such a way.”

She returned with a gaze and frosty words. Tigre was at a loss and tried greeting her for the time being.

“... Good morning.”

“It is one koku (two hours) through the day.”

Tigre set up and looked at the woman while scratching his head.

She wore a skirt and short-sleeved shirt. She had long gloves which reached to her elbows and boots up to her knees. At her waist was her sheathed sword.

She was possibly taller than Tigre, and seemed to be two or three years older.

She was unmistakably a beautiful woman, but her scarce expressions gave her face a hard look, leaving her with an unsociable impression.

There were three particularly eye-catching features.

Tied on the left side of her head was long, golden hair.

Her azure eyes were as cold as marble.

And though she was tall and well balanced, she had ample bosoms which did not match her slender build.


Tigre inadvertently stared at the two swellings which bulged from beneath her clothes. The woman flashed her sword and threw an unkind remark.

“--- If you don't wake up properly, I will skewer you.”

“... I'm sorry.”

Blushing, Tigre apologized properly.

He looked about the room. It was small, containing only the bed he slept on.

Sunlight shined through the window, brightly lighting the room. The stone floor was bare, and the only door led to the hallway. His bow leaned against the wall.

“Really, even with the soldiers shouting for your death, even though you are a prisoner... How can you sleep so well.”

“It's one of my special skills.”

“I suggest you hold back a little. You lack tension.”

Anger was mixed into her cold voice. Tigre looked at her in embarrassment.

“Am I really that bad?”

“To the extent that I recall my murderous intent.”

The woman turned about as she threw an answer to Tigre, pushing the door open in the meanwhile.


“Eleanora-sama has called for you. Please follow me.”

Tigre put on his leather shoes and quickly followed after her.

“It's nice to meet you. I am ---”

“This is not our first meeting, Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.”

She answered without turning around, her voice clearly rejecting him.

“My name is Limlisha. It is not necessary to remember it.”

LeitMeritz was a principality located in the Kingdom of Zhcted, under Eleanora's rule.

Eleanora's troops arrived at the capital yesterday. It had been ten days since they departed from Dinant.

After giving a word of thanks to the soldiers, Eleanora left the men to her adjutant, Limlisha, and returned to the King's capital with several men.

It was necessary to report her victory to the King.

During the return to the public capital, Tigre asked the guards a few times, and each time the response was the same.

“We have no need to respond to a prisoner of our Vanadis-sama.”


Even if he asked to meet Eleanora, it would not be possible for them to accept. Regardless, there was no way to do it since she departed for the kingdom's capital to meet the King.

Since he had no other options, Tigre remained quietly obedient.

“... Guess I'll just go with the flow.”

Tigre made that decision and looked at the sky until late at night. During the day, he dozed off on the horse.

Following Limlisha, Tigre walked down the passage of the household.

“What are you looking about so restlessly for?”

Limlisha gazed back at him in amazement as Tigre looked about like a child.

“Yes, I just thought it is a splendid building.”

“You are an Earl, an aristocrat.”

“I am a poor noble. There is no point comparing my small mansion to this one.”

He responded without any shame. Tigre looked about, admiring the ceiling and floor.

Until now, Tigre had never left Brune Kingdom, and now he was in the province's Imperial Palace. The mosaics which decorated the floor were new to him.


The side facing the courtyard was bathed in a column of soft sunlight. In the vast area, soldiers were working hard, training. It was vibrant.

“It's a good atmosphere.”

“That is because this is Eleanora-sama's official palace.”

Limlisha answered as if it were natural.

Soldiers patrolled the corridors, and what he assumed were maids and chamberlains strolled about, likely performing their job.

Tigre thought about the girl who was like a younger sister house-sitting his mansion in his absence.

''--- Teita must be worried.''

When he saw her off, he did not expect such a thing to happen.

''--- Batran, and everyone else as well, I hope you made it back safely.''

In his chest, there was impatience.

He wished to return to Alsace as quickly as possible. However, a prisoner who escapes is punishable by death, so he could only remain quiet.

They finally left the palace.


He walked for a while before Limlisha stopped her feet.

“... We are here.”

He was brought to a training ground near the rampart.

Eleanora stood with three armed soldiers amongst the forty. She was clothed in shades of blue with her longsword in its argent sheathe at her waist.

“If you make any strange movements... No, please do so. It would save quite a bit of time and effort.”

Limlisha spoke as she let the sound of her sword escape its sheathe at her waist.

Though there was an obvious hostility, Tigre simply ignored it.

''--- It can't be helped. I'm a prisoner now; we were enemies just ten days ago.''

“Hm, you came.”

Eleanora noticed Tigre and walked up to him cheerfully. She smiled to Tigre first, then Limlisha.

“You've worked hard. Still, it took you quite some time to come here.”

“I apologize. He did not wake up so easily.”

“You didn't wake up?”


Eleanora looked doubtful hearing the story of him waking up only when he had a sword in his mouth. Her shoulders trembled as she held back her laughter.

“Even as a captive, you slept so deeply.”

“He is simply dull.”

At last, Eleanora laughed and turned to Tigre.

“Tigrevurmud Vorn, it's quite a long name for a person of Brune. Does it have an origin?”

“I received an ancestral name. If you find it difficult, you may call me Tigre.”

Tigre cited the phrase he was accustomed to. He felt odd being called Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.

Eleanora's face suddenly glowed. The dignity as a Vanadis the soldiers knew was gone; she held the expression appropriate of a girl her age.

“In that case, Ellen is fine as well. I would prefer it if you use that name.”

Tigre stared at her involuntarily. She spoke in an intimate manner with a prisoner. Saying it poorly, she was being overly familiar.

“Eleanora-sama.”

Though Limlisha reproached her, she showed no sign of fear.


“He's my prisoner. This much is fine, Lim.”

“Lim?”

Hearing the name, Tigre looked at Limlisha in surprise.

“I'll tell you now. She is one of my escorts whose horse you shot down, and she was the girl who took you here from Dinant.”

Certainly, her physique matched.

Though puzzled as to how he should react, Tigre thanked her honestly.

“Though it may be strange of me to say this, thank you for bringing me here safely.”

Tigre had heard stories of prisoners being mocked and assaulted or killed by torture in a convoy. Some died without having a single meal.

However, on the way back from Dinant, Tigre was never abused. He was even given proper food.

Though it may have been because he was Ellen's captive, Limlisha – that is, Lim, was the one who properly managed him.

She did not respond to Tigre. What had to be done was done.

However, Lim hid her anger as she was thanked by ignoring Tigre and facing Ellen.


“Eleanora-sama, there is still work to be done today. You should finish your trivial errands early, correct?”

“I know, I know.”

Ellen smiled bitterly and waved. She faced Tigre and smiled deliberately.

“I would like to clarify things first, Tigre... no, Lord Vorn. As per the treaty between our countries, you will be treated as a prisoner of war. If, in fifty days time, the demanded ransom has not been delivered by the Kingdom of Brune, that is, if a ransom has not been paid to me, you will formally become mine as per the agreement. What binds this contract is the name and honor of the God, Radegast. Is this acceptable?”

Though hardly suitable, Tigre nodded reluctantly.

It was a contract held between every country on the treatment of prisoners of war.

It was made to avoid abuse, humiliation, and, frankly, murder. It was a rule which allowed for negotiations between countries to advance efficiently.

“Well, you might be a bit worried about the ransom, though.”

Tigre heard the number come from Ellen's mouth and stood rooted to the spot with his mouth agape.


It was a number close to the total tax revenue raised by Alsace in three years time.

He felt dizzy from the impact.

“... Is it possible to reduce the amount?”

“No.”

A flat response.

''--- Well, there's no reason for her to.''

In many cases, the goal of taking an enemy captive was to retrieve a ransom. It was unlikely she would decrease it so easily.

“You will live here in the Imperial Palace. Needless to say, any attempt to escape will be met with death penalty.”

He was like a fish dying out of water. Tigre desperately searched his memory for the savings within his territory.

It amounted to approximately one year's worth of tax revenue, so it was hardly enough.

''--- If I can speak to Teita or Batran, or perhaps Sir Massas, who is more widely known, they may be able to raise the money.''

The preparations for the ransom were, simply put, hopeless.

He felt a pain between his eyes as he thought about his gloomy future. He nearly fainted, but before it happened, Tigre somehow managed to gather strength in his legs.


Supporting his body and limbs with all the strength he could muster, he looked back at Ellen.

''--- I must return to Alsace.''

''I was born and raised there. It is an important land I inherited from my father.''

''I'm worried about the soldiers' safety as well. I'm certain my people are worried.''

''Above all, I promised Teita I would return.''

''I wish to answer their desires.''

“So... What business do you have to call me to such a place?”

Tigre spoke with impudent words and a tone to match. Ellen's crimson eyes smiled happily as she looked at him with admiration.

“Of course, that is not all I called you here for.”

Ellen pointed to a training bow sitting along the wall.

“Shoot an arrow from here and hit that.”

“Is that it?”

Tigre, who was on the defensive, felt it was rather anti-climactic.

The distance to the target was three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters). Even for those skilled with the bow, the distance would seem like a bad joke.


Shooting an arrow at that distance is already in itself a challenge; to also hit the target would make it nothing short of impossible.

However, the distance was not a big deal for Tigre.

Though he did not know what she was plotting, he decided to do it quickly.

One of the soldiers brought a bow and four arrows. The man had delicate features and beautiful, shiny black hair reached down to his shoulders.

After Tigre received the bow and arrow from him, his eyebrows knitted slightly.

“What a terrible bow...”

The material was hardly suitable, and the condition of the grip was poor. The stringing, too, was poorly done. There was also some warping. It was clear what his intention was.

Ellen glanced at him at a distance like a child, filled with expectation. ''Is she not involved? If that's the case, it's unlikely this is a standard bow for the Zhcted Army.''

He was unsure if she knew of this.

An unpleasant thought crossed his mind. Thinking back, the bows in Brune were not that good, either.


''--- It can't be an issue of the maker's ability... In the first place, there is no such profession as a bow craftsman.''

Tigre's bow was made by his father when he was small. The choice of materials, as well, was made according to the knowledge and technology of other countries, such as Zhcted.

The accuracy of his arrow was not due to just Tigre's skill but the quality of the tool as well.

While pretending to check the condition of the bow, he looked at the soldier who passed him the bow in his peripheral vision and saw several soldiers grinning.

“Such a petty trick.”

Because he was angry, a murmur leaked from his mouth.

“What is it?”

Lim, who stood nearby, looked at him dubiously. Apparently she had not heard his words. Still, complaining about the quality of the bow as a prisoner of war was cumbersome.

“I wish to confirm something. It is not necessary for me to hit the target with all four arrows, only one, correct?”

“That is a rather timid remark for a person who killed my horse with one arrow.”

Though she thought Tigre was being sarcastic, she remained expressionless. There was no sign of malice. It seems she had not noticed the bow was inferior.


“If your physical condition is poor, I can tell Eleanora-sama to hold this another day.”

“No, I will do it.”

He answered with a strong tone. Tigre set the bow in his hand.

“However, please allow me to hit the target with only one arrow. I am not as confident with an unfamiliar bow.”

Lim bowed in assent and immediately walked to Ellen. After speaking a few words, Ellen looked at him devoid of any dissatisfaction, as if saying “Please begin.”

Tigre nocked the first arrow and released it.

It stalled before it reached the target, falling to the ground less than two hundred alsin away. Laughter and sneers were heard amongst the soldiers.

He did not mind it and released the next arrow.

The hum of the arrow sounded as it flew in an arc. It hit the castle wall, far from the target.

The soldiers laughed loudly. Some shook their shoulders, others looked at him with pity or contempt. Many gazes pierced Tigre.

“Are you doing this seriously?”


Lim, speaking in an irritated voice, looked to Ellen.

Ellen looked troubled. Though she was trying to properly solve a problem, she looked at him as if she were scolded by a teacher.

“I'll do it.”

Tigre eagerly replied and nocked the third arrow.

“Hey, are you still continuing? You're really willing to make a spectacle of yourself, still?”

“Maybe you'd like a replacement. Though he can reach the target, he can't even shoot straight.”

“Vanadis-sama, did you really make a man like this your captive?”

“This is quite a splendid show. I wonder if something new will be shown tomorrow.”

Though the soldiers deliberately spoke ill, Tigre was not bothered.

He was accustomed to such abuse. He had received mental abuse incomparable to this many times.

He took a deep breath and looked at the sky for a change of pace, moving his neck around.

In Tigre's vision was a black shadow.

''--- What is that?''

His neck stopped moving and he looked closely.


In an instant, he understood the identity of the shadow. Chills ran down Tigre's spine as he screamed at Ellen.

“Get down!”

''--- An arbalest...!''

It was different from the bow Tigre used. It was a mechanical bow; the bowstring was pulled by a winch and shot with a trigger.

It was difficult to maintain and prone to failure, but it could reach three-hundred-fifty alsin (approximately three-hundred-fifty meters) at maximum and could easily pass through shields and armor with enough force for the bolt to come out the other side.

The black shadow on the rampart held one.

A thick bolt was released from the arbalest.

The roar of air sped straight toward Ellen. She had no time to avoid it.

However, Ellen did not panic, nor did she move from her spot.

“--- Arifal!”

Muttering those words like a spell, the sword at her waist gave off a spark, cutting the atmosphere and scattering particles of silver.

In a moment, the air rapidly swelled, like an explosion. A storm raged about her.


Her long hair of silver-white danced with the wind. The bolt, entwined in the intense storm, was thrown far off orbit.

It passed through the empty space away from her and fell to the ground weakly.

''--- What just happened?''

Tigre stared in blank surprise at Ellen.

It was not a coincidence; that was impossible.

While learning the bow, Tigre learned about the arbalest. He was knowledgeable about the power of the thick bolts. A wind could not conveniently blow it out of its orbit.

“Capture that man!”

Lim shouted. All the soldiers held a bow, however, far from hitting the shadow, they could not even reach the rampart.

The people with a sword or spear ran to the rampart.

The soldier guarding the wall, in response to the commotion, began chasing the shadow.

''--- This has nothing to do with me.''

Tigre muttered to himself. Though he shouted on reflex, he was not Ellen's subordinate, nor was he a man of this city.

While thinking that, suddenly, Tigre remembered his first meeting with Ellen.


“You're skilled.”

She smiled as she said so.

''Teita, Batran and his men, my late father, when was I last praised for my bow arm?''

“Should I capture him alive?”

Nocking the arrow, Tigre asked Lim in a flat tone.

“Is this really a situation where you can say that...?”

Grasping the sword with her hand until it went white, Lim stared at the shadow on the rampart in chagrin. She wanted to lead the soldiers, but could not leave Ellen's side.

The shadow ran quickly across the wall. Once he reached the tower, he could quickly escape outside.

“I understand. I'll get his foot.”

Tigre said those words as he strongly drew his bow to the limit.

After shooting the previous two arrows, he understood its condition perfectly.

''--- At this distance, I won't miss.''

Lim looked at him in doubt.

Then her gaze changed to one of surprise.


The bowstring trembled.

The arrow resounded with a sharp buzz as it drew a large arc, piercing the leg of the shadow.

The shadow fell on the rampart and was caught by the soldiers who finally caught up.

“What... was that?”

One of the soldiers on the rampart looked down at Tigre. No other words would come out.

The other soldiers, too, looked at Tigre in amazement.

“Impossible. He shot over three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters) from that position to the rampart...”

“No, if you think about the height of the tower, it could be even more. No way.”

“I can't believe it... Is that a human skill, or can all people of Brune do this?”

Though the voices showed astonishment and shock, there was clearly admiration in them as well.

There were those rooted to the spot, others looked to the sky, and some covered their forehead with their hand and recited the names of the Gods.

The malice in the training area no longer remained.

“He did something like that... with such a terrible bow...”

The soldiers who passed Tigre the bow were pale with fear.


“--- You got me.”

Tigre shrugged his shoulders. Though he held no emotions in his chest anymore, he was puzzled. He noticed he was bathed in gazes all at once.

The fourth arrow remained in his hand. Though Lim had seen it before, she did not look any differently than the other soldiers. When his eyes met hers, he understood her body was tense.

He looked back at Ellen.

“I'll ask you now. What about the fourth shot?”

“It's enough with this. I'd rather not lose this.”

Ellen's argent hair moved gently as she shook her head.

“You did well.”

Ellen smiled at Tigre with sincerity, her sword still sheathed at her waist. A wind blew from somewhere, tickling Tigre's hair.

''--- Just now...''

Tigre placed his hand in his hair involuntarily. He thought Ellen had somehow used her longsword to produce the wind.

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| Back to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_01_Chapter1_-_MTL|Chapter 1 - MTL]]
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| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_01_Chapter3_-_MTL|Chapter 3 - MTL]]
|-
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Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume 01 Chapter2 - MTL

2017-02-26T00:39:59Z

An Orange Peon:

<noinclude>{{MTL-old}}</noinclude>
=== LeitMeritz ===

He was having a bad dream.

''On a small hill, our forces were gathered.''

''It was meal time. The soldiers put a pot that was as deep as a barrel on the mound, which had been turned into a stove. They were preparing a fish stew.''

''There was a slight ridge before Dinant Plains, which plateaued with no end in sight.''

''There were twenty thousand Brune soldiers sharing a meal with his own troops. Thousands of streams of heat floated upward ,and the soldiers seemed as though they were imprisoned in the steam.''

Tigre and Massas were talking while stirring the food in the pot when a few young men appeared in front of their eyes with the colliding sound of their armor.

“So you came as well, Vorn.”

The man who said that with an openly mocking tone was Zaien Thenardier.

The Thenardier house held the title of Duke. It was a long distinguished family incomparable to the Vorn household. It had many aristocrats who held enormous power, and the territory it owned was wide. It is said the number of soldiers mobilized by the household can reach ten thousand.


Even in this war, which was organized in haste, they commanded a force four thousand strong.

Zaien was the Thenardier family's eldest son and heir to the household. He was currently 17 years old.

Though he wore decorated armor and bore a splendid sword at his waist in an imposing manner, worthy of his lineage, he always had an expression as if looking down on others.

At his back was an entourage of young men flattering him.

Just like Zaien, they were aristocrats born into the families with the ranks of marquis or duke, wearing glittering armor with their respective household crests. They looked at Tigre with a grimace and did not seem to harbor good intentions.

Tigre could not ignore them, and felt obliged to show the minimal courtesy.

“... I am here to serve as His Majesty's loyal subject, so I came here as quickly as possible.”

“Though it's quite admirable to say that, I'm not sure how helpful you'll be.”

After Zaien ridiculed Tigre, the laughter of the other nobles overlapped his own. Maybe because their respective ages were similar, Zaien frequently made fun of Tigre in such a manner.

“I told you before, your family has merely hunted for four or five generations. I can hardly recognize you as a noble.”

He spat out those words arrogantly and immediately tried to stomp Tigre's bow,which was laying on the ground.

Tigre moved in a reflexive manner, picking up his bow as quickly as a wild beast.


“Uwa!”

Zaien stumbled, lost his balance and fell hard on the ground, taking with him one of his followers.

“How dare you do that to master Zaien!”

To the enraged followers who roared at him, Tigre yelled back:

“I was protecting my bow!”

“A bow? If it's a bow, so what, you coward!”

“That's right. There's nothing bad in breaking this crap. You should be on the front lines with a sword!”

“I'm sure the God of War, Trigraf, would never give his blessings to someone like you!”

The other followers expressed their approval one after another. Tigre gritted his teeth in anger.

In the Brune Kingdom, their complaints were acceptable.

“The bow is the arm of a coward who does not have the courage to expose his body before a naked blade.”

Such train of thoughts were deeply rooted in the Brune Army, which made little use of the bow.

It's not only that the archers' achievements were disregarded, but also archers in general.

“The archers are all drafted hunters, farmers who do not own land, people who have committed a serious crime as warriors--or some people to fill the ranks who aren't great with the sword or the spear.”


Due to such a norm, those who used bows, even as soldiers, were regarded as criminals and useless failures that are looked down on.

Though Tigre's ancestor performed distinguished military services for which he was presented with territory for hunting and was promoted to the title of Earl, Massas told him: “If he wasn't a hunter, he'd probably be promoted to an even higher rank.”

“Calm down, you guys.”

Zaien stood up difficultly with some help, and put a stop to his followers' actions.

Though reluctant, they still stopped blaming Tigre.

Zaien put on an act while getting rid of the dust on his armor, crossed his arms and laughed at Tigre in scorn.

“The reason you stick to a bow is that you can't handle a sword or spear, right? You probably think that if you headed to the battlefield with a bow, it could be barely enough to pretend to be a soldier, right?”

Tigre remained silent. It was true he was poor with the sword and spear.

If he objected here, Zaien would ask him to take up a sword or spear and show his skills and laugh at him. This had happened once before.

Zaien's taunt didn't stop here.

“To begin with, you are an Earl of the Kingdom of Brune. Yet, you can't use a sword or a spear and plan to head to the battlefield without wearing armor. Aren't you ashamed? Guys, look at his shabby appearance. He has a leather plate, leather gauntlets and even leather leggings. All his equipment is made of leather. At most, his mantle is decent, but if that's the only presentable part, then I really feel sad about the financial situation of his territory.”


“--- Lord Zaien.”

Massas, who had remained silent until then, spoke sullenly.

“Your words have been insightful. However, since you said so much at once, surely you have become thirsty...”

He continued while pointing in a certain direction.

“There's some rayion wine being distributed over there. Why not try drinking some, to relieve your thirst?”

Using a polite and humble tone, Massas's attitude put pressure on the other side.

The dignity of this old Knight, who had just turned 55, was intimidating to Zaien.

Zaien grunted and stepped back involuntarily as he became aware that he forgot his manners. He then snorted and turned around.

“Hey, let's go.”

Tigre watched Zaien and the others walk away, and thanked Massas after checking his bow's condition.

“Thank you. You saved me.”

“It's nothing. I should be the one to apologize. It would be better if I had intervened earlier, but I couldn't find an opportunity to barge in.”


From Zaien's perspective, Massas was a weak aristocrat no different from Tigre. If the former didn't get the timing right, he would simply snort with laughter.

While returning to stir the pan, Massas looked about the area casually.

Whether soldier or aristocrat, all was concentrated on their pots, or was taking care of their arms while entertaining themselves with chatter. Not a single person looked this way, and that indifference reached an unnatural state.

They were all afraid of Zaien, so they avoided relations with Tigre.

“I now understand that handling the sword and spear is not a proof of courage.”

Massas spoke in irony. Tigre wanted to say something to him, but shut his mouth at the end. Because not far away, the barely audible voices of nobles gathered together reached his ears.

“By the way, did you hear about what Duke Ganelon did?”

“Are you talking about him increasing taxes, using war preparations as excuse?”

“That's right. If there is a young girl in a house that's not paying taxes, she will be taken away. If there isn't one, then the house is set on fire.”

“It's really enviable. I'd like to have the authority to place a temporary tax too.”


The aristocrat didn't look resentful, but was simply grumbling in dissatisfaction.

Duke Ganelon was one of the most influential nobles of Brune Kingdom, on par with Thenardier.

There were also many powerful aristocrats amongst his relatives. His power was something that even the King could not ignore.

Regarding territory, Brune nobles were recognized and allowed to govern a territory, but for certain privileges, such as setting taxes, the permission of the King was necessary.

Duke Ganelon not only went against this rule and imposed tax without consulting the King, but was also did these inhuman things in his territory. Yet, the king still tolerated that.

“For a story like that, Duke Thenardier is not inferior regarding doing that kind of things. He ordered his people to stop drinking as long as the war is going on. They had to hand over all alcohol as oath to the Gods.”

“I see. But it's not hard to hide or to make alcohol. What happens to those who are found guilty of violating the ban?”

“The part about kidnapping the family's daughters is similar to Ganelon's method. But as a warning, I heard that swords were given to husband and wife or the father and son ,and they were made to kill each other.It seems that they even bet on who would win.”

Tigre clenched his fist after hearing the conversation.

Massas placed a wrinkled hand on Tigre's knee as he was about to stand up.


“Calm down.”

“What, how can I possibly remain calm!?”

“Though it may be harsh of me to say this, nothing would change even if you said something.”

He was right. Tigre sat back down, but his rage was still boiling inside him.

He desperately gritted his teeth and held his silence, in order to restrain himself from acting on impulse.

He was angry because Ganelon and Thenardier did not regard the people within their dominion as humans. They did not hesitate in their cruelty. He was angry at the men who spoke lightly of such cruel matters and those who have an overlook those things without any scruple. Finally, he was angry at his powerlessness, as he knew he could do nothing.

“The story just now, is it true?”

“Though it is a rumor... there have been many others similar to this one. Still, the people in question have not denied it. You rarely come to the capital, so no wonder you don't know about this.”

Maybe this really couldn't be helped.

Tigre hardly left his territory, the land of Alsace.

He had no desire to rise in the world and gain fame or glory, nor did he have any ambition. That's why he was not interested in his status as an aristocrat.

Plus, in his mind, he has no intention of dealing with Zaien, who was one of the sons of the nobles.

“His Majesty still tolerates such behavior...?”


Fearfully, he asked.

He did not want to believe it.

“Certainly, His Majesty has said nothing to them at the present.”

Massas' stocky body trembled as he shook his head grumpily.

“I believe His Majesty has his own matters to settle... One day, if His Majesty can't control them anymore, at least Prince Regnas should...”

Massas' eyes clung to the slender hope. Suddenly, he looked up and stared at Tigre. The latter, distracted, saw his finger come towards him, aim at his mouth and poke him there.

“Fue...?”

It was too abrupt. No words could come out from Tigre's mouth.

Furthermore, the hand blocking Tigre's mouth was kind of cold, and had an indescribable iron taste.

<center><big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big></center>

When he awoke, a dim ceiling was in Tigre's view.

“--- So you finally woke up.”

Tigre heard a voice which lacked intonation. Immediately after that, he felt something withdrawn from his mouth.

What left his mouth was a sword.


The owner of this sword was a woman with golden hair whom he had never seen before.

“... Where should I start.”

“By the way, this is my first time waking a person in such a way.”

She returned with a gaze and frosty words. Tigre was at a loss and tried greeting her for the time being.

“... Good morning.”

“It is one koku (two hours) through the day.”

Tigre set up and looked at the woman while scratching his head.

She wore a skirt and short-sleeved shirt. She had long gloves which reached to her elbows and boots up to her knees. At her waist was her sheathed sword.

She was possibly taller than Tigre, and seemed to be two or three years older.

She was unmistakably a beautiful woman, but her scarce expressions gave her face a hard look, leaving her with an unsociable impression.

There were three particularly eye-catching features.

Tied on the left side of her head was long, golden hair.

Her azure eyes were as cold as marble.

And though she was tall and well balanced, she had ample bosoms which did not match her slender build.


Tigre inadvertently stared at the two swellings which bulged from beneath her clothes. The woman flashed her sword and threw an unkind remark.

“--- If you don't wake up properly, I will skewer you.”

“... I'm sorry.”

Blushing, Tigre apologized properly.

He looked about the room. It was small, containing only the bed he slept on.

Sunlight shined through the window, brightly lighting the room. The stone floor was bare, and the only door led to the hallway. His bow leaned against the wall.

“Really, even with the soldiers shouting for your death, even though you are a prisoner... How can you sleep so well.”

“It's one of my special skills.”

“I suggest you hold back a little. You lack tension.”

Anger was mixed into her cold voice. Tigre looked at her in embarrassment.

“Am I really that bad?”

“To the extent that I recall my murderous intent.”

The woman turned about as she threw an answer to Tigre, pushing the door open in the meanwhile.


“Eleanora-sama has called for you. Please follow me.”

Tigre put on his leather shoes and quickly followed after her.

“It's nice to meet you. I am ---”

“This is not our first meeting, Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.”

She answered without turning around, her voice clearly rejecting him.

“My name is Limlisha. It is not necessary to remember it.”

LeitMeritz was a principality located in the Kingdom of Zhcted, under Eleanora's rule.

Eleanora's troops arrived at the capital yesterday. It had been ten days since they departed from Dinant.

After giving a word of thanks to the soldiers, Eleanora left the men to her adjutant, Limlisha, and returned to the King's capital with several men.

It was necessary to report her victory to the King.

During the return to the public capital, Tigre asked the guards a few times, and each time the response was the same.

“We have no need to respond to a prisoner of our Vanadis-sama.”


Even if he asked to meet Eleanora, it would not be possible for them to accept. Regardless, there was no way to do it since she departed for the kingdom's capital to meet the King.

Since he had no other options, Tigre remained quietly obedient.

“... Guess I'll just go with the flow.”

Tigre made that decision and looked at the sky until late at night. During the day, he dozed off on the horse.

Following Limlisha, Tigre walked down the passage of the household.

“What are you looking about so restlessly for?”

Limlisha gazed back at him in amazement as Tigre looked about like a child.

“Yes, I just thought it is a splendid building.”

“You are an Earl, an aristocrat.”

“I am a poor noble. There is no point comparing my small mansion to this one.”

He responded without any shame. Tigre looked about, admiring the ceiling and floor.

Until now, Tigre had never left Brune Kingdom, and now he was in the province's Imperial Palace. The mosaics which decorated the floor were new to him.


The side facing the courtyard was bathed in a column of soft sunlight. In the vast area, soldiers were working hard, training. It was vibrant.

“It's a good atmosphere.”

“That is because this is Eleanora-sama's official palace.”

Limlisha answered as if it were natural.

Soldiers patrolled the corridors, and what he assumed were maids and chamberlains strolled about, likely performing their job.

Tigre thought about the girl who was like a younger sister house-sitting his mansion in his absence.

''--- Teita must be worried.''

When he saw her off, he did not expect such a thing to happen.

''--- Batran, and everyone else as well, I hope you made it back safely.''

In his chest, there was impatience.

He wished to return to Alsace as quickly as possible. However, a prisoner who escapes is punishable by death, so he could only remain quiet.

They finally left the palace.


He walked for a while before Limlisha stopped her feet.

“... We are here.”

He was brought to a training ground near the rampart.

Eleanora stood with three armed soldiers amongst the forty. She was clothed in shades of blue with her longsword in its argent sheathe at her waist.

“If you make any strange movements... No, please do so. It would save quite a bit of time and effort.”

Limlisha spoke as she let the sound of her sword escape its sheathe at her waist.

Though there was an obvious hostility, Tigre simply ignored it.

''--- It can't be helped. I'm a prisoner now; we were enemies just ten days ago.''

“Hm, you came.”

Eleanora noticed Tigre and walked up to him cheerfully. She smiled to Tigre first, then Limlisha.

“You've worked hard. Still, it took you quite some time to come here.”

“I apologize. He did not wake up so easily.”

“You didn't wake up?”


Eleanora looked doubtful hearing the story of him waking up only when he had a sword in his mouth. Her shoulders trembled as she held back her laughter.

“Even as a captive, you slept so deeply.”

“He is simply dull.”

At last, Eleanora laughed and turned to Tigre.

“Tigrevurmud Vorn, it's quite a long name for a person of Brune. Does it have an origin?”

“I received an ancestral name. If you find it difficult, you may call me Tigre.”

Tigre cited the phrase he was accustomed to. He felt odd being called Earl Tigrevurmud Vorn.

Eleanora's face suddenly glowed. The dignity as a Vanadis the soldiers knew was gone; she held the expression appropriate of a girl her age.

“In that case, Ellen is fine as well. I would prefer it if you use that name.”

Tigre stared at her involuntarily. She spoke in an intimate manner with a prisoner. Saying it poorly, she was being overly familiar.

“Eleanora-sama.”

Though Limlisha reproached her, she showed no sign of fear.


“He's my prisoner. This much is fine, Lim.”

“Lim?”

Hearing the name, Tigre looked at Limlisha in surprise.

“I'll tell you now. She is one of my escorts whose horse you shot down, and she was the girl who took you here from Dinant.”

Certainly, her physique matched.

Though puzzled as to how he should react, Tigre thanked her honestly.

“Though it may be strange of me to say this, thank you for bringing me here safely.”

Tigre had heard stories of prisoners being mocked and assaulted or killed by torture in a convoy. Some died without having a single meal.

However, on the way back from Dinant, Tigre was never abused. He was even given proper food.

Though it may have been because he was Ellen's captive, Limlisha – that is, Lim, was the one who properly managed him.

She did not respond to Tigre. What had to be done was done.

However, Lim hid her anger as she was thanked by ignoring Tigre and facing Ellen.


“Eleanora-sama, there is still work to be done today. You should finish your trivial errands early, correct?”

“I know, I know.”

Ellen smiled bitterly and waved. She faced Tigre and smiled deliberately.

“I would like to clarify things first, Tigre... no, Lord Vorn. As per the treaty between our countries, you will be treated as a prisoner of war. If, in fifty days time, the demanded ransom has not been delivered by the Kingdom of Brune, that is, if a ransom has not been paid to me, you will formally become mine as per the agreement. What binds this contract is the name and honor of the God, Radegast. Is this acceptable?”

Though hardly suitable, Tigre nodded reluctantly.

It was a contract held between every country on the treatment of prisoners of war.

It was made to avoid abuse, humiliation, and, frankly, murder. It was a rule which allowed for negotiations between countries to advance efficiently.

“Well, you might be a bit worried about the ransom, though.”

Tigre heard the number come from Ellen's mouth and stood rooted to the spot with his mouth agape.


It was a number close to the total tax revenue raised by Alsace in three years time.

He felt dizzy from the impact.

“... Is it possible to reduce the amount?”

“No.”

A flat response.

''--- Well, there's no reason for her to.''

In many cases, the goal of taking an enemy captive was to retrieve a ransom. It was unlikely she would decrease it so easily.

“You will live here in the Imperial Palace. Needless to say, any attempt to escape will be met with death penalty.”

He was like a fish dying out of water. Tigre desperately searched his memory for the savings within his territory.

It amounted to approximately one year's worth of tax revenue, so it was hardly enough.

''--- If I can speak to Teita or Batran, or perhaps Sir Massas, who is more widely known, they may be able to raise the money.''

The preparations for the ransom were, simply put, hopeless.

He felt a pain between his eyes as he thought about his gloomy future. He nearly fainted, but before it happened, Tigre somehow managed to gather strength in his legs.


Supporting his body and limbs with all the strength he could muster, he looked back at Ellen.

''--- I must return to Alsace.''

''I was born and raised there. It is an important land I inherited from my father.''

''I'm worried about the soldiers' safety as well. I'm certain my people are worried.''

''Above all, I promised Teita I would return.''

''I wish to answer their desires.''

“So... What business do you have to call me to such a place?”

Tigre spoke with impudent words and a tone to match. Ellen's crimson eyes smiled happily as she looked at him with admiration.

“Of course, that is not all I called you here for.”

Ellen pointed to a training bow sitting along the wall.

“Shoot an arrow from here and hit that.”

“Is that it?”

Tigre, who was on the defensive, felt it was rather anti-climactic.

The distance to the target was three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters). Even for those skilled with the bow, the distance would seem like a bad joke.


Shooting an arrow at that distance is already in itself a challenge; to also hit the target would make it nothing short of impossible.

However, the distance was not a big deal for Tigre.

Though he did not know what she was plotting, he decided to do it quickly.

One of the soldiers brought a bow and four arrows. The man had delicate features and beautiful, shiny black hair reached down to his shoulders.

After Tigre received the bow and arrow from him, his eyebrows knitted slightly.

“What a terrible bow...”

The material was hardly suitable, and the condition of the grip was poor. The stringing, too, was poorly done. There was also some warping. It was clear what his intention was.

Ellen glanced at him at a distance like a child, filled with expectation. ''Is she not involved? If that's the case, it's unlikely this is a standard bow for the Zhcted Army.''

He was unsure if she knew of this.

An unpleasant thought crossed his mind. Thinking back, the bows in Brune were not that good, either.


''--- It can't be an issue of the maker's ability... In the first place, there is no such profession as a bow craftsman.''

Tigre's bow was made by his father when he was small. The choice of materials, as well, was made according to the knowledge and technology of other countries, such as Zhcted.

The accuracy of his arrow was not due to just Tigre's skill but the quality of the tool as well.

While pretending to check the condition of the bow, he looked at the soldier who passed him the bow in his peripheral vision and saw several soldiers grinning.

“Such a petty trick.”

Because he was angry, a murmur leaked from his mouth.

“What is it?”

Lim, who stood nearby, looked at him dubiously. Apparently she had not heard his words. Still, complaining about the quality of the bow as a prisoner of war was cumbersome.

“I wish to confirm something. It is not necessary for me to hit the target with all four arrows, only one, correct?”

“That is a rather timid remark for a person who killed my horse with one arrow.”

Though she thought Tigre was being sarcastic, she remained expressionless. There was no sign of malice. It seems she had not noticed the bow was inferior.


“If your physical condition is poor, I can tell Eleanora-sama to hold this another day.”

“No, I will do it.”

He answered with a strong tone. Tigre set the bow in his hand.

“However, please allow me to hit the target with only one arrow. I am not as confident with an unfamiliar bow.”

Lim bowed in assent and immediately walked to Ellen. After speaking a few words, Ellen looked at him devoid of any dissatisfaction, as if saying “Please begin.”

Tigre nocked the first arrow and released it.

It stalled before it reached the target, falling to the ground less than two hundred alsin away. Laughter and sneers were heard amongst the soldiers.

He did not mind it and released the next arrow.

The hum of the arrow sounded as it flew in an arc. It hit the castle wall, far from the target.

The soldiers laughed loudly. Some shook their shoulders, others looked at him with pity or contempt. Many gazes pierced Tigre.

“Are you doing this seriously?”


Lim, speaking in an irritated voice, looked to Ellen.

Ellen looked troubled. Though she was trying to properly solve a problem, she looked at him as if she were scolded by a teacher.

“I'll do it.”

Tigre eagerly replied and nocked the third arrow.

“Hey, are you still continuing? You're really willing to make a spectacle of yourself, still?”

“Maybe you'd like a replacement. Though he can reach the target, he can't even shoot straight.”

“Vanadis-sama, did you really make a man like this your captive?”

“This is quite a splendid show. I wonder if something new will be shown tomorrow.”

Though the soldiers deliberately spoke ill, Tigre was not bothered.

He was accustomed to such abuse. He had received mental abuse incomparable to this many times.

He took a deep breath and looked at the sky for a change of pace, moving his neck around.

In Tigre's vision was a black shadow.

''--- What is that?''

His neck stopped moving and he looked closely.


In an instant, he understood the identity of the shadow. Chills ran down Tigre's spine as he screamed at Ellen.

“Get down!”

''--- An arbalest...!''

It was different from the bow Tigre used. It was a mechanical bow; the bowstring was pulled by a winch and shot with a trigger.

It was difficult to maintain and prone to failure, but it could reach three-hundred-fifty alsin (approximately three-hundred-fifty meters) at maximum and could easily pass through shields and armor with enough force for the bolt to come out the other side.

The black shadow on the rampart held one.

A thick bolt was released from the arbalest.

The roar of air sped straight toward Ellen. She had no time to avoid it.

However, Ellen did not panic, nor did she move from her spot.

“--- Arifal!”

Muttering those words like a spell, the sword at her waist gave off a spark, cutting the atmosphere and scattering particles of silver.

In a moment, the air rapidly swelled, like an explosion. A storm raged about her.


Her long hair of silver-white danced with the wind. The bolt, entwined in the intense storm, was thrown far off orbit.

It passed through the empty space away from her and fell to the ground weakly.

''--- What just happened?''

Tigre stared in blank surprise at Ellen.

It was not a coincidence; that was impossible.

While learning the bow, Tigre learned about the arbalest. He was knowledgeable about the power of the thick bolts. A wind could not conveniently blow it out of its orbit.

“Capture that man!”

Lim shouted. All the soldiers held a bow, however, far from hitting the shadow, they could not even reach the rampart.

The people with a sword or spear ran to the rampart.

The soldier guarding the wall, in response to the commotion, began chasing the shadow.

''--- This has nothing to do with me.''

Tigre muttered to himself. Though he shouted on reflex, he was not Ellen's subordinate, nor was he a man of this city.

While thinking that, suddenly, Tigre remembered his first meeting with Ellen.


“You're skilled.”

She smiled as she said so.

''Teita, Batran and his men, my late father, when was I last praised for my bow arm?''

“Should I capture him alive?”

Nocking the arrow, Tigre asked Lim in a flat tone.

“Is this really a situation where you can say that...?”

Grasping the sword with her hand until it went white, Lim stared at the shadow on the rampart in chagrin. She wanted to lead the soldiers, but could not leave Ellen's side.

The shadow ran quickly across the wall. Once he reached the tower, he could quickly escape outside.

“I understand. I'll get his foot.”

Tigre said those words as he strongly drew his bow to the limit.

After shooting the previous two arrows, he understood its condition perfectly.

''--- At this distance, I won't miss.''

Lim looked at him in doubt.

Then her gaze changed to one of surprise.


The bowstring trembled.

The arrow resounded with a sharp buzz as it drew a large arc, piercing the leg of the shadow.

The shadow fell on the rampart and was caught by the soldiers who finally caught up.

“What... was that?”

One of the soldiers on the rampart looked down at Tigre. No other words would come out.

The other soldiers, too, looked at Tigre in amazement.

“Impossible. He shot over three hundred alsin (approximately three hundred meters) from that position to the rampart...”

“No, if you think about the height of the tower, it could be even more. No way.”

“I can't believe it... Is that a human skill, or can all people of Brune do this?”

Though the voices showed astonishment and shock, there was clearly admiration in them as well.

There were those rooted to the spot, others looked to the sky, and some covered their forehead with their hand and recited the names of the Gods.

The malice in the training area no longer remained.

“He did something like that... with such a terrible bow...”

The soldiers who passed Tigre the bow were pale with fear.


“--- You got me.”

Tigre shrugged his shoulders. Though he held no emotions in his chest anymore, he was puzzled. He noticed he was bathed in gazes all at once.

The fourth arrow remained in his hand. Though Lim had seen it before, she did not look any differently than the other soldiers. When his eyes met hers, he understood her body was tense.

He looked back at Ellen.

“I'll ask you now. What about the fourth shot?”

“It's enough with this. I'd rather not lose this.”

Ellen's argent hair moved gently as she shook her head.

“You did well.”

Ellen smiled at Tigre with sincerity, her sword still sheathed at her waist. A wind blew from somewhere, tickling Tigre's hair.

''--- Just now...''

Tigre placed his hand in his hair involuntarily. He thought Ellen had somehow used her longsword to produce the wind.

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| Back to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_01_Chapter1_-_MTL|Chapter 1 - MTL]]
| Return to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_01_Chapter3_-_MTL|Chapter 3 - MTL]]
|-
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</noinclude>

Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume01 Chapter1

2017-02-26T00:38:07Z

An Orange Peon:

=== Chapter 1 - Encounter with the Vanadis ===

"Tigre-sama."

The voice of a girl that he had grown used to hearing reached his ears, and he felt his body being shaken. Because of the bright light shining through the window, he knew that morning had come. However, he was still sleepy.

"A little longer... just a little longer."

"How long is 'a little longer,' may I ask?"

"There aren't any plans to go hunting today, so until noon..."

"Cut it out and please wake up!" the girl roared out loud.

He was stripped of his blanket, his shoulders were grabbed, and he was woken up violently.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that the bright red face of the girl, boiling with anger, was in close proximity.

She had a child-like face, which had no intimidating power even when she was angry. Her chestnut-colored hair was tied in twin tails. Her small body was dressed in a uniform with long black sleeves, a black skirt that reached down to her feet, and a white apron that gave off a feeling of cleanliness.

"Ah... morning, Titta."

[[Image:Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis_Volume_01_-_012.jpg|175px|thumb]]

With a slow, drowsy voice, Tigre called out the name of the maidservant. Seeing that he seemed to be awake at last, Titta released her hand.

"The soldiers have already finished their preparations a long time ago, and are all waiting for Tigre-sama!"

Tigre was confused, and thought about what she had just said.

The blood rushed from his face immediately as the realization sank in.

"Oh crap!"

As though rolling out of his bed, he got up, and Titta held out a set of folded clothes for him. Beside her feet was a small pail filled with water.

"Thank you. You're well prepared, as always."

"That is because I expected this to happen. I will go and prepare breakfast, so please wash your face and get changed in the mean time."

With the anger gone from her face, Titta gave a cheerful smile and bowed, pulling the hem of her skirt slightly upwards in a curtsy, and left the room gracefully.

Tigre washed his face. The cool and refreshing feeling cleansed the lingering drowsiness from him. He dashed out of the room while putting on his clothes, buttoning them up as he ran down the corridor.

"Though I don't have any time left... I still can't slack off."

He originally intended to go straight for the dining room, but instead he headed towards the small room at the end of the corridor.

It was a room small enough that three adults would be unable to sit down inside together at once. Standing at the opposite end of the room to the entrance was an exquisitely decorated rack, and on it was a bow. The bowstring was drawn firm and taut, and it seemed like it was ready to be used at any time. If one were to describe the bow in a single word, it would be "black." The handle, the bowstring -- the entire bow was pure black, without luster or shine. It would not be unbelievable to say that this bow was cut and made from darkness.

―― The mere sight of it gave off an oppressive feeling...

This mysterious bow was a family heirloom of the Vorn family, and was said to have been used by their hunter ancestors.

Tigre's father had left behind a last request regarding the bow.

''"Use this bow only when you are truly in need of it. Do not use it under any other circumstance."''

After hearing his father's will, Tigre had felt an indescribably eerie feeling from the bow, and decided not to touch it.

Tigre stood up straight, regulated his breathing, placed his clenched fist against his chest and moved it horizontally. Then he bowed for his ancestors. After finishing this action, he quietly left the room and headed to the dining room.

Tigrevurmud Vorn was sixteen this year. He had been born in an earl's house in the Kingdom of Brune, and had succeeded the family name after his father had passed away due to an illness. His name had been passed down by his ancestors who had obtained the position of an earl. But because it was such a mouthful, he himself finding it to be too long and troublesome to say, he asked those close to him to address him as "Tigre."

Tigre stepped into the dining room, and smelled a delicious aroma.

There was ham with fried eggs, rye bread, milk, mushroom soup and others, all hot enough for a faint vapor to waft from them, set on a simple dining table. Titta stood on standby beside beside the table.

"Just the soup will do," said Tigre.

"That won't do," Titta replied. When it came to food, she was extremely stubborn. "Do you want your stomach to growl in front of everyone? It would be unsightly."

Titta placed her hands on her hips and glared directly at Tigre. It was an intense look, very unlike a maidservant. It was far more frightening than when she had woken him up. Tigre knew well that he could not win this argument, so he gave in readily.

After washing the bread down with milk, he grabbed the plate and gobbled down the fried egg and finished the soup in great gulps.

"Thank you for the meal," he said as he stood up. Titta immediately walked up to him, a comb and napkin in her hands.

"There is still a little bit left on your mouth. Please wipe it properly." She spoke as though she was a little angry, as she wiped his mouth clean with the napkin for him. "You have some bed-hair as well." She reached up with the hand that held the comb and thoroughly brushed Tigre's hair. "Look, even your collar's crooked." She placed the comb and napkin down on the table and arranged his collar neatly. Tigre quietly accepted this all the while.

" ―― Tigre-sama."

"What is it?"

Titta's voice had suddenly lost its strictness, becoming rather feminine. She called out to Tigre gently. Because she was a year younger than him, he had always thought of her as his younger sister.

"Why does Tigre-sama have to go out and do battle?"

Tigre's expression became a little troubled. He ran his hand through his dark red hair. There were times when Titta would ask these kinds of difficult questions, and he would find himself at a loss trying to come up with an answer.

"It's because of His Majesty's military draft," Tigre replied. "It is only natural that the house of Earl Vorn do its part for the Kingdom of Brune."

"B-but..." Titta looked up at Tigre with teary eyes, and she argued back vehemently," It wasn't easy for us to muster even a hundred soldiers..."

There were many different types of nobles. Among them, Tigre's house, while not "poor," could be described as "simple." Other similar adjectives would not be far off the mark as well. Such was the state of the noble family of Vorn.

The territory House Vorn governed was called Alsace, which was situated in the countryside far from the central areas of the kingdom. Not only was it a small piece of land, but it was also dominated by forests and mountains, and thus there was little to reap profits from. As a result, Tigre's lifestyle was far from what one might expect from a noble. It lacked in both luxury and grandeur. The house that he lived in was not large. The fact that Titta alone could manage all of the domestic chores in the house was proof of that.

"Furthermore," Titta continued, "I've heard that the enemy is the Kingdom of Zhcted. If that's the case, shouldn't Tigre-sama stay here? After all, Zhcted and Alsace are only separated by a mountain."

"That may be so, but this is a place that's as rural as it gets. Not even Zhcted would think of invading here."

To Tigre, the fact that Alsace would not be turned into a battlefield was a good thing.

"W-what's more... don't they always make a fool out of Tigre-sama for your archery skills?"

"It is impossible to leave behind a ''chanson de geste''<ref>[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chanson_de_geste Chanson de geste] "songs of heroic deeds" are epic poems in Old French, often regarding military prowess or legendary battles.</ref> with the bow, after all."

"It's fine even without a ''chanson de geste!''" Titta insisted loudly, before burying her face into Tigre's chest. "My only... wish is that you do not push yourself too hard, and that no injuries should befall you, and that you return in good health, please."

The slender maidservant embraced Tigre lightly.

"Don't worry too much," he said. "Didn't I return unharmed from my first battle two years ago?"

"That time, Urs-sama was..."

Titta's voice trailed off halfway. Urs was Tigre's late father.

In order to ease Titta's heart, Tigre patted her lightly on the head.

"In this battle, my unit will be located behind the main forces," he said. "It's a safe place to be. And no matter what happens, I'll think of something."

Tigre brought his hand up to wipe the tears from the corner of Titta's eyes.

"I understand," she nodded. Then she said, "L-listen well, Tigre-sama. Please don't oversleep on the battlefield."

"The way you say it makes it sound like I'm always oversleeping."

"It's true," Titta rebutted. "Isn't the only time that Tigre-sama wakes up on time is when you go hunting?"

Despite her words, Tigre knew that Titta was cheering for him with all her heart. Tigre hugged her again, while Titta relaxed her body and let Tigre hold her. He could feel the warmth of her body even through her clothes, and her chestnut hair gave off a faint fragrance. Although he would have liked to stay like this for a little while longer, he did not have time. Tigre reluctantly released her.

"I'm counting on you to watch the house, Titta."

Titta wiped her tears away with her sleeve and said, smiling:

"Please leave it to me, Tigre-sama. Take care of yourself too."

As Tigre walked out of the front door while hefting his bow and quiver on his back, he saw that the soldiers were already in formation waiting for him. A short old man wearing leather armor walked up to him and bowed his head.

"Young master, everyone has been assembled. The preparations are also complete."

"Well done, Bertrand."

This old man was Tigre's aide. Compared to the young Tigre, he had far more experience in battle, and within this unit he was the only person besides Tigre who was trained in equestrianism.

As for the rest, they were all soldiers wearing leather armor with swords on their hips and spears in their hands.

"I sure have gathered a fair number."

Tigre heaved a sigh. Some of the more experienced soldiers said, half-jokingly:

"Milord, there's naught to be worried about. Though we've not fought in a war for three years, we've spent our days working with the plough, and as such our bodies have grown tough, aye."

"Going against His Majesty's command would be like disobeying the ol' missus, no? In that case, we are left with no choice but to obey."

"Your words are much appreciated. Why don't we simply bring your wife along as well? A few angry roars from her would be enough to scare off even a thousand or two of the enemy soldiers, eh?"

The soldiers laughed uproariously.

"It would be best to give up on that, young master. This man's missus differentiates not between friend and foe!"

Bertrand had interjected with banter of his own, and Tigre ended this conversation with a shrug of his shoulders.

―― It looked like morale was not going to be a problem.

After waiting for their laughter to subside, Tigre saluted. Then he mounted the horse that Bertrand had brought over and raised his right hand up in the air and gave a command.

"Our destination is the Plains of Dinant. En-route, we will be joining up with Lord Mashas's<ref>Pronounced as Mah-ss-ha-ss</ref> forces."

The soldiers raised the war flags up high.

They carried two different flags. One had a blue base with a white half-moon and shooting star ― the war flag of House Vorn. The other was of Bayarl ― a sacred horse with a black mane and crimson body, the symbol of the Kingdom of Brune.

"With that, let us move out!"

The Kingdom of Brune shared its eastern border with the Kingdom of Zhcted. The two countries have had their swords at one another's throats for over twenty years.

The reason for the conflict this time was due to the flooding of the river that served as the border of the two countries caused by torrential rain.

Firstly, the victims of the flood were quick to point fingers at the other country, saying "'Tis all because those fellows from yonder haven't been doing their job with the river," which served as the sparks that started the fire.

Next, both countries, having been petitioned to by the victims, maintained the stance that "there are problems with their flood control solutions," which fanned the flames of hostility even more, and finally resulted in a full-scale conflict.

If it was just that, Tigre should not have been summoned to the battlefield.

"The enemy forces number roughly five thousand, but our own forces number over twenty five thousand. 'Tis pleasant news, truly."

The one who spoke with sarcasm in his voice from beside Tigre was a knight that was already past his middle ages, Mashas Rodant.

Mashas was a friend of Tigre's father, and had often taken care of Tigre as his benefactor.

"Have you heard?" Tigre asked. "They say it's because His Royal Highness is riding into battle for the first time."

"'Tis likely to be true. His Majesty does dote on him, after all."

Mashas's portly body was equipped with iron armor and helmet, and he stroked his mustache in displeasure.

"The conflict this time round is almost like a squabble between children, resulting in their parents having to step in. It is not something that would drastically alter the country's future. Based on that, we are merely decorations for His Highness's ― Prince Regnas ― first battle. To be precise, this is for him to gain some experience."

For his beloved son's first battle, the king must have wanted him to win a glorious victory.

The king had sent out all of the knights directly under him. The nobles that lived near the Plains of Dinant had all received the call to war, too.

This included even minor nobles, like Tigre and Mashas.

Those assembled numbered over twenty five thousand. The forces commanded by Mashas were about three hundred men strong. Within that, there were around fifty knights. Though the number was not small, compared to the entire twenty five thousand strong army, they were but a drop in the ocean, and the same went for Tigre. It was for this reason that both of them had been assigned to the rear end of the formation.

"The odds favor those who gather the greater army ― 'tis but the basics of war. One day, Prince Regnas will succeed the throne. His Majesty was not wrong to do so, was he?"

Tigre patted the old knight on the shoulder in consolation.

Those words that he had said was just rhetoric. If he did not say it out loud, he might have lost his will to fight.

"No doubt we are but minor nobles. We only have to wait obediently in the back. If everyone bears the same mindset that this is an assured victory and lunge headfirst into battle for glory... that reminds me, Tigre, have you heard of the Princesses of War?"

Mashas asked as though he had suddenly recalled something. Tigre tilted his head.

"You mean the Seven Vanadis of Zhcted?"

"Yes, that's the one all right. It seems that the enemy forces are being lead by one of the Vanadis. Though only sixteen years old, she is undefeated, attaining victory after victory. An excellent swordswoman, she stands at the forefront of battle, cutting down all before her. She is known and feared as the [{{Furigana|Danseuse of the Sword|Meltis}}] and the [{{Furigana|Wind Princess of the Silverflash|Silvfrahl}}]."

The Kingdom of Zhcted was ruled by a king and the Seven Vanadis.

''―― The same age as me, huh?''

Tigre had an inexplicable feeling about this yet unmet enemy general. Though they were of the same age, and though she was even a female, she had far more battle experience and had performed many heroic feats, and commanded a five thousand strong army.

In the Kingdom of Brune, women were not allowed to become knights, except for those born to high nobility.

So far in this war, Tigre had not seen a even single female knight. But because of that, he felt excited.

"What name does she go by, this Vanadis?"

"If my memory doesn't fail me, she's called Eleonora Viltaria. The rumors say that she's a real beauty. If one were to place a precious gemstone next to her, it would pale in comparison."

"Is she really that beautiful?"

"It's great that you're excited hearing about beauties, but remember to keep it in moderation. Otherwise, Titta'll get jealous."

Mashas's grey mustache trembled with laughter.

"Why did Titta's name suddenly get mentioned?" Tigre replied sullenly. "She's only like a sister ―― "

"Ever since you were kids, people have said that the two of you were like a lazy older brother and a capable younger sister."

Even though he put it that way, Tigre could not make a rebuttal. Scratching his dark red hair, he changed the topic.

"If the Vanadis is truly as great of a general as the rumors say, then we're in for a hard battle, aren't we?"

"That may be so, but the difference in military strength is simply too great. Even with a specialist of war leading them, they probably wouldn't be able to overcome this disparity."

No matter how hard the Vanadis fought, they would not be able to make up for the overwhelming difference in numbers.

Tigre would have liked to voice his agreement, but for some reason he could not do so. He had an ominous, foreboding feeling. In the region around the back of his neck, he felt a sensation as though he was being burned. This was not the first time he had experienced this kind of feeling. It was like the times when, as he was out hunting, he was surrounded by wolves due to his carelessness ― or when he ran into dragons while in the mountains.

Or when he woke up in the morning and was sporting some major morning wood, and Titta came to wake him up like she always did.

In any case, when he had this kind of feeling, something bad was about to happen.

"You don't seem too overjoyed."

He had been wearing his true feelings on his face, it seemed, and Mashas looked over in concern.

"Are you worried about something? You don't seem like your usual carefree self."

"What carefree self?" Tigre said unhappily. "Aren't there other ways to describe me, like imperturbable?"

Mashas smiled. "It's fine even if you try to brush it off with difficult vocabulary. As for me, I remember the day that you succeeded Urs two years ago as though it was just yesterday."

"I... did I say something then?"

"When the representatives of the towns and villages asked you how to manage Alsace, didn't you answer them with a 'well, it'll work out somehow?' If that isn't carefree, what is?"

Tigre did not reply. He only shrugged his shoulders. However, Mashas did not stop there.

"When Urs was still with us, he had always praised you as someone who was 'calm and steadfast, though a little optimistic. He makes good judgments and has a strong body.' Those were exactly the words of a father favoring his son, weren't they?"

"Even if you say that, I do have confidence in my way of doing things."

Only after Mashas had finished speaking, did Tigre answer.

It was the truth that no major problems had occurred in Alsace.

Though it was slow, their assets has been growing at a steady pace. Those representatives who had been stunned by his casual statement got along pretty well with him after that.

"Aside from those days where you go hunting, are you able to wake up on your own, without Titta's help?"

"... No, about that..."

"I've heard from Titta that if you have two or three days off, you grab your bow and quiver and head off into the forests or mountains to hunt."

Tigre's shoulder sagged in his silence, he could not refute that fact.

"Forget I ever said anything. It's good enough that you are performing your duties as a governor. That you can tell just by seeing their faces."

Mashas looked over his shoulders, back at the soldiers.

Their fighting spirits were low due to being deployed at the rear, but not a single person had voiced his unhappiness or anger over it.

"Tigre, our job is to bring these men back home safely, not to think about how to win this battle. I'm not sure what you're thinking about, but don't worry too much about it."

"Thank you for your concern," Tigre expressed his gratitude.

It was as he had said: there was no point thinking too much about it. Although it was frustrating, they had only been called to the battlefield as decorations for the Royal Prince. No one expected them to contribute to the battle, nor did Tigre or Mashas expect anyone to make use of their forces.

A few days later, Tigre and company had arrived at Dinant.

The twenty thousand strong main force, the vanguard, was lined up at the foot of the hill. The five thousand strong rearguard was commanded by Prince Regnas and was on standby at the top of the hill. Tigre and Mashas were part of the rearguard.

Just from these facts alone, the odds of them having to enter the fray were minuscule.

<big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big>

It was just before daybreak. Under the dark sky, a thousand soldiers were advancing in silence.

They dulled the metal of their swords and spears with mud to stop the reflection from giving them away, and made their horses bite on boards and wrapped their hooves with cotton cloth. These were extreme measures of caution. But in this manner, they arrived at the side of the hill, undiscovered by the enemy. If they climbed its gentle slopes, they would be able to see the enemy forces ― the rearguard of the Brune army had night sentries, after all. The flames of the campfires flickered and burned.

" ―― Let us rest. Begin the preparations."

The silver-haired girl at the forefront, the one leading all of these knights, smiled lightly. The soldiers did as she bade and started to rest, and they retrieved the boards and cloth from their horses.

Before long, the scouts that they had sent out earlier returned.

Hearing from the scouts that the enemies were sound asleep and had not noticed their movements, the girl turned around and faced the knights. Drawing the longsword at her waist, she raised it high in the air as a light wind blew.

"The enemies right before our eyes number five thousand ― five times our number. A rearguard it may be, but if that is where their supreme commander is positioned, then it would be reasonable to assume the presence of many elites." However, the girl's crimson eyes were filled with fighting spirit, and she continued. "Even so, I will go, and thus achieve victory. Will you follow me?"

The knights silently raised their arms, pointing their swords and spears toward the sky.

The girl turned her head in the direction of the enemy, driving her horse forward, and brought her longsword down in an arc.

"Begin the assault!"

Their war flags billowed in the wind. The shape of Zirnitra ― a pitch-black dragon, the symbol of the Kingdom of Zhcted ― adorned the flags.

The air rushed as they advanced. The knights held swords and spears or bows as they followed the girl's lead, galloping on their horses to the hilltop.

Hearing the sound of the hooves striking the ground, as though the earth itself was crying out, the soldiers on sentry duty finally noticed the enemy assault.

"The enemy ―― "

With a flash of her sword, the girl changed what escaped from the soldier's throat from a warning cry to a fountain of spurting blood.

Against the background of the gradually brightening sky, the girl led a force of a thousand men directly into the enemy camp and created wanton destruction. The army of Brune fell into chaos. There were even those who threw down their weapons as they fled for their lives. And although there were still soldiers who bravely tried to mount a resistance, the difference in the impetus of their assault was too great.

But above all else, there was the valiant girl who led the forces of Zhcted. With her longsword, she stood at the frontlines of battle, overwhelming in her strength.

With just one assault, hordes of enemy soldiers had been slain or crushed beneath the hooves of horses. Even so, not a single drop of blood stained her body. Every time her longsword caused the wind to howl, the bodies that littered the ground increased.

Her silvery-white hair swaying with the wind, the girl attacked the enemy camp in this fashion with the horde of knights that had followed her lead.

At this point, victory and defeat looked certain for the respective sides.

<big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big>

His ears were ringing.

Screams, shrieks, death cries, hooves clacking on the ground and the sound of weapons clashing against each other filled his ears.

"... Ugh"

He woke up.

Spread out wide before his eyes was the blue sky, so vast that it seemed like it would suck one in.

Tigre pushed away the weight that was resting upon his body and got up.

When the ringing in his ears was gone, he could hear the sound of the wind and faint fading moans, and the rustling of the pieces of broken war flags and trampled grass. Dust crept along the ground in the wind, and the smell of blood reached his nose.

"Did I lose consciousness...?"

Tottering, he rose to his feet. What greeted him was the sight of corpses as far as the eyes could see ― a hill of death.

The grass was stained with blood, and the land was buried with hundreds or even thousands of corpses scattered about. A wave of nausea came over him. He covered his mouth with his hand. He felt a moist sensation, and he saw that his hand was dyed red.

―― Blood...?

He checked his face and his entire head, but it appeared that he was not wounded.

"Somebody else's blood, huh?"

It seemed that Tigre had somehow been buried underneath a few corpses. Because of that, he had managed to escape the eyes of the enemy.

"Bertrand! Lord Mashas!"

He called out the names of his aide and the old knight he was close with, but there was no reply. He tried calling out the names of the soldiers that were under him, but as expected there was no response.

"If they got away, then it's fine, I suppose."

Wherever he looked, there were only corpses. Among the corpses were scattered swords, broken spears, and the remnants of ruined flags. Vision was limited by the morning fog that obscured the far distance, but nothing moved in his field of vision. No allies nor enemies.

Anger and hatred for the enemy did not gush out from within him. More than that, he was dragged down by the weight of fatigue and exhaustion. He sighed.

"It was a terrible battle..."

Roughly around dawn, a surprise attack had been launched against the Brune army. In the ensuing mayhem, their vanguard came under attack as well, and with that came the downfall of the army of twenty five thousand.

''―― Yesterday, before midnight, our army had confirmed that the enemy forces were directly in front of us. In other words, Zhcted had split their army in two. A two-pronged assault on both the rearguard and the vanguard.''

Tigre felt chills run down his spine.

The plan was simple. Even a child could have come up with it.

―― What was fearsome was their calm execution of the plan, against forces five times their number.

They had fewer soldiers, and, on top of that, split their forces. One small mistake, and their entire force would have been crushed. The soldiers must have been against it, to no small degree.

―― However, it was a splendid success.

The Brune army had been routed.

Washed away with the stampede of fleeing allies, Tigre had been unable to take command of the soldiers. Falling from his horse, he had then fainted.

It seemed like Tigre's unit had been done in more by their own allies than their enemies.

"Nevertheless..."

Tigre remembered. The one who stood at the front of the enemy forces, her longsword flashing, the silver-haired girl who cut down the Brune soldiers one by one without pause ― he had only caught a short glimpse of her.

"Was that the Vanadis?"

The Princess of War, the Vanadis, was always at the frontline of battle ― that was what Mashas had said.

The inappropriate memory of her beauty surfaced in Tigre's mind. He ruffled his dark red hair as though reflecting upon it.

Fortunately, his bow had fallen close by.

Picking it up, he plucked the bowstring while feeling a measure of uneasiness and anxiety.

"... It's working fine."

He was relieved. If the bow had been bent, the bowstring would slacken, rendering it useless.

There were still a few arrows left in his quiver.

He raised his head skywards and calculated the directions based on the position of the sun.

"That way's west, eh?"

From this battlefield, going west would lead one to Brune; east, to Zhcted.

Enduring the pain coursing through his entire body, Tigre slowly walked westward. Noticing something moving within his field of vision, he stopped.

A lone knight on a horse was galloping towards him, sword brandished.

Tigre entered a stance with his bow and drew a single arrow.

The knight's horse trampled on or leapt over the corpses lying all around, drawing closer to Tigre. When the distance between them had been shortened to thirty alcin (approximately thirty meters), the knight suddenly roared out.

"A survivor of the Brune army? I'll have your head!"

Tigre remained silent, nocking an arrow to his bow. Casually, he released the arrow.

It was a blur.

When the thud was heard, an arrow could be seen piercing the knight's throat.

It was with amazing speed and calmness.

Completely unable to respond, the knight's body spasmed and lurched to the side, falling to the ground with a ''thump.''

Having lost its rider, the horse let out a high-pitched neigh. Before Tigre could even walk over to it, it had galloped away into the distance.

"I give up... things aren't going my way at all."

He sighed. If he had a horse, he could have escaped from the battlefield with ease.

Trudging forward, Tigre resumed his journey on foot. But it was not even ten steps before he came to a stop again.

"Are they enemies?"

Three hundred alcin (approximately three hundred meters) ahead, he could see a group of knights. If they spotted him, he would be chased down immediately.

"... There's seven of them."

Tigre was born with a pair of good eyes. Those eyes of his had been further trained by hunting, to the point that even at three hundred alcin, he could distinguish the facial features of a person.

He ascertained the contents of his quiver. There were only four arrows left.

Though he had confidence in his skill with the bow, he probably would not be able to take down two men with a single arrow. If all of them charged at him like that knight did earlier, there was nothing he could do.

''―― Let them be my allies.''

While praying that, Tigre observed the knights. When he saw the face of the leading knight, his eyes widened in shock.

"The Vanadis..."

When the Zhcted forces had launched the surprise attack, she was the one who led attack from the front.

Tigre was so charmed by her that he forgot to draw breath.

She was a young maiden of the same age as him. Her silver hair reached down to her waist, uncovered by armor, and shimmering in the rays of sunlight. In those crimson eyes there was radiance and dignity. Her arms were slender, fitting for a girl her age, yet it seemed inexplicably suited for the longsword that she grasped in her hand.

―― Lord Mashas had once said that she possessed a beauty unmatched by all but a few.

It was just as he had said. To judge that beauty based on normality was out of the question. The more he looked at her, the more he had to agree with that statement.

Finally, Tigre snapped back to his senses. He shook his head, shaking off his idle thoughts, and calmly focused his sight upon the Vanadis's group.

The other knights were her escort, it seemed. As though protecting her, they moved their horses forward.

―― If he slew the Vanadis...

There was no reversing the overwhelming defeat suffered by his side. Right now, the Zhcted forces should be chasing down the fleeing Brune army in a large-scale pursuit.

"... But, should I strike her down, the pursuit would have to cease."

If Mashas, Bertrand, and the other soldiers that came from Alsace had survived, then it would greatly increase the likelihood of them making it out alive.

Fighting spirit welled up inside him. The hand that grasped his bow filled with strength.

"I'll do it."

Tigre drew an arrow and nocked it.

"O Eris, goddess of wind and storm..."

The creaking sound of the tightening, tense bowstring filled his eardrums.

On this continent, the maximum range for the bow was two hundred and fifty alcin (approximately two hundred and fifty meters).

This number merely represented how far the arrow could fly ― a calculated distance. If one wished to inflict bodily harm upon the target, the distance would be far less than that.

At the moment, the Vanadis was still about three hundred alcin (approximately three hundred metres) away from Tigre.

Even so, he still released the arrow.

The arrow tore through the wind, and embedded itself into the head of a horse being ridden by a knight next to the Vanadis.

As the horse collapsed onto the ground, bringing the knight down along with it, Tigre let loose a second arrow.

That arrow pierced the area between a knight's brows.

"All right."

At last, with two of the escorts down, a path was cleared ― a path to the silver-haired, crimson-eyed Vanadis, an opening for an arrow to reach her.

"The real thing starts from here."

Tigre extended his hand into his quiver. His breath grew heavy and hot.

Even while in the depths of the mountains, where sunlight did not reach, facing off against {{Furigana|Earth Dragons|Slō}}, which were over forty chet (approximately four metres) long, he had not experienced as much nervousness as he did now.

―― Assuming that the other knights wanted to protect her, they would be hindered by the fallen horse and knights. To get around them would take some time.

Although that time was rather short, indeed, it was enough for Tigre.

―― In this situation, the actions she could take was to either lie face-down on the horse or get off the horse entirely.

On both her left and right were escorts, hence she could not move in those directions. There was a route to her back, but only for a few steps; it was not a viable route for evasive action. And at her front were her fallen subordinates and a horse. It would be difficult to cross over them without a running long jump, and horses disliked that.

Even if this Vanadis managed that, from the start of the jump till the landing, there would surely be a small interval of opening.

And then Tigre, who had once again been focusing his gaze on the Vanadis, was assailed by an intense chill.

The Vanadis was smiling.

She was clearly looking at him, and in excitement.

''"Kuh."''

Tigre grit his teeth. Evidently, she was not taking him seriously. He drew the remaining two arrows from his quiver. One he held with his teeth; the other he nocked to his bow.

But what happened at that moment was an unbelievable sight.

The horse the Vanadis rode on gently soared into the air, far above the fallen subordinates. That height was about twenty chet (around two metres).

To Tigre, it seemed almost as if the horse had grown a pair of wings and flew. It was not a "jump," but closer to "flight."

"What was that, earlier...?"

Fear and dread wracked Tigre's body. He almost thought that his eyes were deceiving him.

A horse that carried a rider should not have been able to jump a height of twenty chet without a running start.

[[Image:Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis_Volume_01_-_040.jpg|175px|thumb]]

Yet the Vanadis had, and with a calmness as though nothing ever happened, she galloped in his direction.

―― Do not fear...!

He rebuked himself. ''I was merely seeing things.''

Scowling at her, Tigre released the third arrow.

Riding upon the wind, the arrow traveled through the air. Just as it was about to hit dead center on her forehead, it was struck down by a flash of silver.

"... No way."

Tigre's eyes widened with his jaws agape.

She had struck down an arrow that came flying from over a hundred alcin at high speed with her sword. Feats of that degree came only from the likes of ''chanson de geste,'' legends of braves and heroes. It was not something normal humans were capable of.

He nocked the last arrow.

He had absolute confidence in his bow. To say nothing of the fact that the opponent was charging straight towards him and the distance of three hundred alcin had almost been closed...

''―― It's impossible to miss.''

He aimed the arrow straight at her forehead, like earlier. But in the same manner as before, it was deflected.

During this interval, the horse, spurred on by the Vanadis, did not slow even for a moment, and approached him as fiercely as before. In about ten seconds, she would reach him.

"Is this the end?"

He had used up all of his arrows, and he had no other weapon. Escaping from a horse on foot was also impossible.

Grasping his bow tightly, Tigre stood up and gathered strength in his legs. He did not want to look too unsightly.

The Vanadis came before Tigre, and stopped her horse.

The young girl's silver hair was dirtied by neither blood nor sand. She had white skin that made him recall the perpetual snow that piled up at the mountains of his hometown. A refined appearance, with a well-featured nose and moist, bewitching lips that gave one the impression of a top-grade sculpture. However, the crimson eyes overflowing with vitality reminded one that she was a flesh-and-blood human.

She thrust the tip of her longsword at Tigre.

"Throw aside your bow."

He had no choice but to do as told. Nodding her head as though satisfied, the Vanadis said, with a smile:

"You have good skills."

Tigre only realized after a while that she had been referring to him.

''―― I'm being complimented...? Even though I'm someone who had been aiming his arrows at her just a moment ago?''

More than being pleased, he felt bewildered.

"I am Eleonora Viltaria. And you are?"

"Tigrevurmud Vorn."

"Are you a noble? Of what rank?"

Within various countries, including the Kingdoms of Brune and Zhcted, those that bore surnames were of nobility. Aside from a few exceptions, those who were not of nobility had no surname.

Tigre answered that he was an Earl, and her smile widened.

"Very well, Earl Vorn."

While sheathing her longsword into the scabbard at her waist, Eleonora cheerfully told him.

"From now on, you belong to me as my prisoner of war."

While he was dumbfounded by those unexpected words, her escorts had finally caught up.

They completely surrounded Tigre, pointing their swords and spears at him, but when Eleonora waved her hand, they withdrew their weapons with a surprised look.

"Lim, let him ride behind you. He's my captive. I don't mind if you rough him up a bit, but don't seriously wound him."

The knight named Lim nodded in silence. Because the knight's entire head was covered by a helmet, Tigre could not see their reaction.

"Get on quickly."

Looking down at Tigre, Lim spoke in a low voice from within the helmet. Tigre quickly realized why he felt that Lim's voice towards him bore a degree of anger.

Lim was the knight whose horse he had slain earlier.

''―― Was the horse borrowed from the other knights? Even amongst the other escorts, this person ought to be a step above them.''

"Is it alright if I take my bow as well?" Tigre asked, pointing at the bow he had thrown down on the ground earlier. "It's important to me."

He pointed out his lack of hostility by showing his empty quiver. Lim extended a hand down towards him.

"Fine by me. However, I'll be holding on to it."

Tigre handed his bow over to Lim, and got up on the rear of the horse. He then placed his hands on Lim's waist.

Suddenly, Lim's neck bent backwards. The back of the helmet struck Tigre in the face, hard.

"What're you doing!" Tigre protested, suppressing his reddening nose.

Eleonora laughed, her shoulders trembling.

"Lim, for the time being, he's my captive. Be a little more gentle with him."

"... I hear and obey."

Although the voice was clearly oozing with dissatisfaction, Lim obeyed anyway.

"If you dare to do something weird, I'll immediately throw you off the horse and trample you to death."

Tigre sighed, partly because of Lim's tremendous anger towards him, but also because of his own uncertainty over his future prospects.

Turning towards the knights, Eleonora proclaimed exultantly:

"Though it was a dull battle, I was able to enjoy myself at the end. ―― Well then, let us withdraw."

The Battle at the Plains of Dinant ended with the one-sided victory of the Kingdom of Zhcted.

Zhcted suffered less than a hundred deaths, whereas Brune had a death count of over five thousand in the the war, with the injured counting for more than twice the number of deaths.

However, the losses were not limited to just that. Brune concealed something, a fact that would be difficult to keep secret no matter how hard they tried.

It was the death of the supreme commander in battle ― the heir to the throne, Prince Regnas.

==Translator's Notes and References==
<references/>

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| Back to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume01_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume01_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
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</noinclude>

Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume01 Chapter1

2017-02-25T11:02:41Z

An Orange Peon:

=== Chapter 1 - Encounter with the Vanadis ===

"Tigre-sama."

The voice of a girl that he had grown used to hearing reached his ears, and he felt his body being shaken. Because of the bright light shining through the window, he knew that morning had come. However, he was still sleepy.

"A little longer... just a little longer."

"How long is 'a little longer,' may I ask?"

"There aren't any plans to go hunting today, so until noon..."

"Cut it out and please wake up!" the girl roared out loud.

He was stripped of his blanket, his shoulders were grabbed, and he was woken up violently.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that the bright red face of the girl, boiling with anger, was in close proximity.

She had a child-like face, which had no intimidating power even when she was angry. Her chestnut-colored hair was tied in twin tails. Her small body was dressed in a uniform with black long sleeves, a black skirt that reached down to her feet, and also a white apron that gave off a feeling of cleanliness.

"Ah... morning, Titta."

[[Image:Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis_Volume_01_-_012.jpg|175px|thumb]]

With a slow, drowsy voice, Tigre called out the name of the maidservant. Seeing that he seemed to be awake at last, Titta released her hand.

"The soldiers have already finished their preparations a long time ago, and are all waiting for Tigre-sama!"

Tigre was confused, and thought about what she had just said.

The blood rushed from his face immediately as the realization sank in.

"Oh crap!"

As though rolling out of his bed, he got up, and Titta held out a set of folded clothes for him. Beside her feet was a small pail, filled with water.

"Thank you. You're well prepared, as always."

"That is because I expected this to happen. I will go and prepare breakfast, so please wash your face and get changed in the mean time."

With the anger gone from her face, Titta gave a cheerful smile and bowed, pulling the hem of her skirt slightly upwards in a curtsy, and left the room gracefully.

Tigre washed his face, the cool and refreshing feeling cleansed the lingering drowsiness from him. He dashed out of the room while putting on his clothes, buttoning them up as he ran down the corridor.

"Though I don't have any time left... I still can't slack off."

He originally intended to go straight for the dining room, but instead he headed towards the small room at the end of the corridor.

This was a room small enough that three adults would be unable to sit down inside together at once. Standing at the opposite end of the room to the entrance was an exquisitely decorated rack, and on it was a bow. The bowstring was drawn firm and taut, and it seemed like it was ready to be used at any time. If one were to describe the bow in a single word, it would be "black." The handle, the bowstring -- the entire bow was pure black, without luster or shine. It would not be unbelievable to say that this bow was cut and made from darkness.

―― The mere sight of it gave off an oppressive feeling...

That mysterious bow was a family heirloom of the Vorn family, and was said to have been used by their hunter ancestors.

Tigre's father had left behind a last request regarding the bow.

''"Use this bow only when you are truly in need of it. Do not use it under any other circumstance."''

After hearing his father's will, Tigre had felt an indescribably eerie feeling from the bow, and decided not to touch it.

Tigre stood up straight, regulated his breathing, placed his clenched fist against his chest, and moved it horizontally. Then he bowed for his ancestors. After finishing this action, he quietly left the room and headed to the dining room.

Tigrevurmud Vorn was sixteen this year. He had been born in an earl's house in the Kingdom of Brune, and had succeeded the family name after his father had passed away due to an illness. His name had been passed down by his ancestors who had obtained the position of an earl. But because it was such a mouthful, he himself found it to be too long and troublesome to call, he asked those close to him to address him as "Tigre."

Tigre stepped into the dining room, and smelled a delicious aroma.

There was ham wrapped in fried egg, rye bread, milk, mushroom soup and others, all hot enough for a faint vapor to waft from them, set on a simple dining table. Titta stood on standby beside beside the table.

"Just the soup will do," said Tigre.

"That won't do," Titta replied. When it came to food, she was extremely stubborn. "Do you want your stomach to growl in front of everyone? It would be unsightly."

Titta placed her hands on her hips and glared directly at Tigre. It was an intense look, very unlike a maidservant. It was far more frightening than when she had woken him up. Tigre knew well that he could not win this argument, so he gave in readily.

After washing the bread down with milk, he grabbed the plate and gobbled down the fried egg and finished the soup in great gulps.

"Thank you for the meal," he said as he stood up. Titta immediately walked up to him, a comb and napkin in her hands.

"There is still a little bit left on your mouth. Please wipe it properly." She spoke as though she was a little angry, as she wiped his mouth clean with the napkin for him. "You have some bed-hair as well." She reached up with the hand that held the comb and thoroughly brushed Tigre's hair. "Look, even your collar's crooked." She placed the comb and napkin down on the table and arranged his collar neatly. Tigre quietly accepted this all the while.

" ―― Tigre-sama."

"What is it?"

Titta's voice had suddenly lost its strictness, becoming rather feminine. She called out to Tigre gently. Because she was a year younger than him, he had always thought of her as his younger sister.

"Why does Tigre-sama have to go out and do battle?"

Tigre's expression became a little troubled. He ran his hand through his dark red hair. There were times when Titta would ask these kinds of difficult questions, and he would find himself at a loss trying to come up with an answer.

"It's because of His Majesty's military draft," Tigre replied. "It is only natural that the house of Earl Vorn do its part for the Kingdom of Brune."

"B-but..." Titta looked up at Tigre with teary eyes, and she argued back vehemently," It wasn't easy for us to muster even a hundred soldiers..."

There were many different types of nobles. Among them, Tigre's house, while not "poor," could be described as "simple." Other similar adjectives would not be far off the mark as well. Such was the state of the noble family of Vorn.

The territory House Vorn ruled was called Alsace, which was situated in the countryside far from the central areas of the kingdom. Not only was it a small piece of land, but it was also dominated by forests and mountains, and thus there was little to reap profits from. Even Tigre's lifestyle was far from what one might expect from a noble. It lacked in both luxury and grandeur. The house that he lived in was not large. The fact that Titta alone could manage all of the domestic chores in the house was proof of that.

"Furthermore," Titta continued, "I've heard that the enemy is the Kingdom of Zhcted. If that's the case, shouldn't Tigre-sama stay here? After all, Zhcted and Alsace are only separated by a mountain."

"That may be so, but this is a place that's as rural as it gets. Not even Zhcted would think of invading here."

To Tigre, the fact that Alsace would not be turned into a battlefield was a good thing.

"W-what's more... don't they always make a fool out of Tigre-sama for your archery?"

"It is impossible to leave behind a ''chanson de geste''<ref>[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chanson_de_geste Chanson de geste] "songs of heroic deeds" are epic poems in Old French, often regarding military prowess or legendary battles.</ref> with the bow."

"It's fine even without a ''chanson de geste!''" Titta insisted loudly, before burying her face into Tigre's chest. "I only... wish that you do not push yourself too hard, and that no injuries should befall you. And please return in good health."

The slender body of the maidservant embraced Tigre lightly.

"Don't worry too much," he said. "Didn't I return unharmed from my first battle two years ago?"

"That time, Urs-sama was..."

Titta's voice trailed off halfway. Urs was Tigre's late father.

In order to ease Titta's heart, Tigre patted her lightly on the head.

"In this battle, my unit will be located behind the main forces," he said. "It's a safe place to be. And no matter what happens, I'll think of something."

Tigre brought his hand up to wipe the tears from the corner of Titta's eyes.

"I understand," she nodded. Then she said, "L-listen well, Tigre-sama. Please don't oversleep on the battlefield."

"The way you say it makes it sound like I'm always oversleeping."

"It's true," Titta rebutted. "Isn't the only time that Tigre-sama wakes up on time is when you go hunting?"

Despite her words, Tigre knew that Titta was cheering for him with all her heart. Tigre hugged her again, while Titta relaxed her body and let Tigre hold her. He could feel the warmth of her body even through her clothes, and her chestnut hair gave off a faint fragrance. Although he would have liked to stay like this for a little while longer, he did not have time. Tigre reluctantly released her.

"I'm counting on you to watch the house, Titta."

Titta wiped her tears away with her sleeve and said, smiling:

"Please leave it to me, Tigre-sama. Take care of yourself too."

As Tigre walked out of the front door while hefting his bow and quiver on his back, he saw that the soldiers were already in formation waiting for him. A short old man wearing leather armor walked up to him and bowed his head.

"Young master, everyone has been assembled. The preparations are also complete."

"Well done, Bertrand."

This old man was Tigre's aide. Compared with the young Tigre, he had far more experience in battle, and within this unit, he was the only person besides Tigre who was trained in equestrianism.

As for the rest, they were all leather-armour wearing soldiers with swords hung on their hips and wielding spears.

"I sure have gathered a fair number."

Tigre heaved a sigh, and some of the more experienced soldiers half-jokingly said,

"Milord, there's naught to be worried about. Though we've not fought in a war for three years, we've spent our days working with the plough, and as such our bodies have grown tough, aye."

"Going against His Majesty's command, would be like disobeying the ol' missus, no? Then we are left no choice, but to obey."

"Your words are much appreciated. Why don't we simply bring your wife along as well? A few angry roars from her would be able to scare off even a thousand or two of the enemy soldiers, eh?"

The soldiers laughed uproariously.

"It would be best to give up on that, young master. This man's missus differentiates not between friend or foe!"

Bertrand had interjected with banter of his own, and Tigre ended this conversation with a shrug of his shoulders.

―― It looked like morale was not going to be a problem.

After waiting for their laughter to subside, Tigre saluted. Then, he mounted the horse that Bertrand had brought over, and raised his right hand up in the air, and gave a command.

"Our destination is the Plains of Dinant. En-route, we will be joining up with Lord Mashas'<ref>Pronounced as Mah-ss-ha-ss</ref> forces."

The soldiers raised the war flags up high.

They carried two different flags. One had a blue base with a white half-moon and shooting star, the war flag of House Vorn. The other was of Bayarl ―― a sacred horse with a black mane and crimson body, the symbol of the Kingdom of Brune.

"With that, let us move out!"

The Kingdom of Brune, with the Kingdom of Zhcted located at its east, have had their swords at each other's throats for over twenty years.

The reason for the conflict this time, was due to the flooding of the river that served as the border of the two countries, caused by torrential rain.

Firstly, the victims of the flood were quick to point fingers at the other country, saying 'tis all because those fellows from yonder haven't been doing their job with the river', which served as the sparks that started the fire.

Next, both countries that were petitioned to by the victims, maintained the stance that 'there are problems with their flood control solutions', which fanned the flames of hostility even more, and finally resulting in a full-scale conflict.

If it were just that, Tigre should not have been summoned to the battlefield.

"The enemy forces number roughly five thousand, but our own forces number over twenty five thousand. 'Tis pleasant news, truly."

The one who spoke with sarcasm in his voice, beside Tigre, was a knight that was already past middle-age, Mashas Rodant.

Mashas was a friend of Tigre's father, and had often taken care of Tigre, his benefactor.

"They say it's because His Royal Highness is riding into battle for the first time, have you heard of that?"

Tigre asked, while riding next to Mashas.

"'Tis likely to be true. His Majesty does dote on him, after all."

His portly body equipped with iron armour and helmet, Mashas stroked his mustache in displeasure.

"The conflict this time round, is almost like a squabble between children, resulting in their parents having to step in, it is not something that would drastically alter the country's future. Based on the meaning of that, for His Highness ―― Prince Legunas, we are merely decorations in his first battle...to be precise, this is for him to gain some experience."

For his beloved son's first battle, the King must have wanted him to win a glorious victory.

The King had sent out all of the knights directly under him, and the nobles that lived near the Plains of Dinant which was soon to become a battlefield too, had received the call to war.

Even minor nobles like Tigre and Mashas.

Those assembled numbered over twenty five thousand.

The forces commanded by Mashas were about three hundred men strong. Within that, there were about fifty knights.

Though the numbers were not small, compared to the entire twenty five thousand strong army, they were but a drop in the ocean, and the same went for Tigre, which was the reason the both of them had been assigned to the rear end of the formation.

"The odds favour those who gather the greater army ―― 'tis but the basics of war. One day, Prince Legunas will succeed the throne. His Majesty was not wrong to do so, was he?"

Tigre patted the old knight on the shoulder in consolation.

Those words that he had said were rhetorics. If he did not say it out loud, perhaps he might have lost his will to fight.

"No doubt about it, we are but minor nobility, we only have to obediently wait at the back. If everyone bears the same mindset that this would be an assured victory, and lunge headfirst into battle for glory... that reminds me, Tigre, have you heard of the Princesses of War?"

He asked as though he had suddenly recalled something, and Tigre tilted his head.

"The Seven Vanadis of Zhcted, you mean?"

"Yes, that's the one alright. It seems that the enemy forces are being lead by one of the Vanadis. Though only sixteen years old, she has been undefeated, attaining victory after victory. An excellent swordswoman, she stands at the forefront of battle, cutting down all before her, known and feared as the [{{Furigana|Danseuse of the Sword|Meltis}}], or the [{{Furigana|Wind Princess of the Silverflash|Silvfrahl}}]."

The Kingdom of Zhcted was ruled by a King, and the Seven Vanadis.

―― The same age as me, huh.

Tigre had an inexplicable feeling, about this yet unmet enemy general. Though they were the same age, and she was even a female, she had far more battle experience and had performed many heroic feats, and commanded a five thousand strong army.

In the Kingdom of Brune that Tigre was born in, women were not allowed to become knights, except those born of high nobility.

So far in this war, Tigre had not even seen a single female knight.

Because of that reason, he felt excited.

"What name does she go by, this Vanadis?"

"If my memory doesn't fail me, she's called Eleonora Viltaria. The rumours say that she's a real beauty. If one were to place a precious gemstone next to her, it would pale in comparison."

"Is she really that beautiful?"

"It's great that you're excited hearing about beauties, but remember to keep it in moderation. Otherwise, Titta'll get jealous."

Mashas' grey mustache trembled with his laughter, and Tigre replied sullenly.

"Why did Titta's name suddenly get mentioned? She's only like a sister ―― "

"Ever since you were kids, people have said that the pair of you were like a lazy older brother and a capable younger sister."

Even though he put it that way, Tigre could not make a rebuttal. Scratching his dark red hair, he changed the topic.

"If the Vanadis is truly that great a general as the rumours say, then we're in for a hard battle, aren't we?"

"That may be so, but the difference in military strength is simply too great. Even with a specialist of war leading them, they probably wouldn't be able to overcome that disparity."

No matter how hard the Vanadis fought, they would not be able to make up for the overwhelming difference in numbers, five times to be exact.

Tigre would have liked to voice out his agreement, but for some reason he could not do so.

He had an ominous, foreboding feeling. At the region around the back of his neck, he felt a sensation as though being burned.

This was not the first time he had experienced this kind of feeling.

Like those times when he was out hunting, and was surrounded by wolves due to carelessness ―― or when he ran into dragons while in the mountains.

Or when he had woken up in the morning, and was sporting some major morning wood, and Titta had came to wake up him like she always did.

In any case, when he had this kind of feeling, something bad was about to happen.

"You don't seem too overjoyed."

He had been wearing his true feelings on his face, it seemed, and Mashas looked over in concern.

"Are you worried about something? You don't seem like your usual carefree self."

"What carefree self... aren't there other ways to describe me, like imperturbable?"

Tigre said unhappily, to which Mashas smiled.

"It's fine even if you try to brush it off with difficult vocabulary. As for me, I remember that day as though it were just yesterday. Two years ago, when you had succeeded Urs."

"I, did I say something then?"

"When the representatives of those villages and towns had asked you how to manage Alsace, didn't you answer them with a 'well, it'll work out somehow'? If that isn't carefree, what is?"

Tigre did not reply, only shrugged his shoulders.

However, Mashas did not stop there.

"When Urs was still with us, he had always praised you as someone who was 'calm and steadfast, though a little optimistic. He does make good judgments, and also has a strong body'. Those were exactly the words of a father favouring his son, weren't they."

"Even if you say that, I do have confidence in my way of doing things."

Only after Mashas had finished speaking, did Tigre answer.

It was the truth that no major problems had occurred in Alsace.

Though slowly, their assets had been growing steadily. Those representatives who had been stunned at his casual statement then got along pretty well with him after that.

"Besides those days where you go hunting, are you able to wake up on your own? Without Titta's help, of course."

"... No, about that...."

"I've heard from Titta that...if you had two or three days off, you would grab your bow and quiver and head off into the forests or mountains to hunt."

Tigre's shoulder sagged in his silence, he could not refute that fact.

"Forget I ever said anything. It's good enough that you are performing your duties as a governor. That you can tell just by seeing their faces."

Mashas looked over his shoulders, back at the soldiers.

Their fighting spirits were low due to being deployed at the rear, but not a single person had voiced his unhappiness or anger over it.

"Tigre, our job is to bring these men back home safely. Not thinking how to win this battle. I'm not sure what you're thinking about, but don't worry too much about it."

"Thank you for your concern."

Tigre expressed his gratitude for Mashas' concern.

It was as he had said, there was no point thinking too much about it.

It was frustrating, but they were only called to the battlefield as decorations for the Royal Prince.

No one had expected them to contribute to the battle, nor did Tigre or Mashas expect anyone to make use of their forces.

A few days later, Tigre and company had arrived at Dinant.

The twenty thousand strong main force, the vanguard were lined up at the foot of the hill. The rearguard that was commanded by Prince Legunas, five thousand strong, were on standby at the top of the hill. Naturally, Tigre and Mashas were part of the rearguard.

Just from these facts, the odds of them having to enter the fray were miniscule.

<big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big>

The time was before daybreak. Under the dark sky, a thousand soldiers were advancing in silence.

They dulled the metallic parts of their swords and spears with mud to stop the reflection from giving them away, made their horses bite on boards, and wrapped their hooves with cotton cloth. Extreme measures of caution.

In that manner, they were undiscovered by the enemy, and arrived at the side of the hill.

If they climbed its gentle slopes, they would be able to see the enemy forces ―― the rearguard of the Brune army had night sentries, after all. The flames of the campfire flickered, burning.

" ―― Let us rest. Begin the preparations."

The silver-haired girl who was at the forefront, leading all of these knights, lightly smiled. The soldiers did as she bidded and started to rest, and retrieved the boards and cloth from their horses.

Before long, the scouts that they had sent out earlier had returned.

Hearing from the scouts that the enemies were sound asleep and did not notice their movements, the girl turned around and faced the knights. Drawing the longsword at her waist, she raised it high in the air, as a light wind blew.

"The enemies right before our eyes number five thousand, five times our number. A rearguard it may be, but if that is where the supreme commander is positioned, then it would be reasonable to assume the presence of many elites."

However, the girl's crimson eyes were filled with fighting spirit, and she continued.

"Even so, I will go. And thus, achieve victory. Will you follow me?"

The knights silently raised their arms, pointing their swords and spears toward the sky.

The girl turned her head in the direction of the enemy, driving her horse forward, and brought down her longsword in an arc.

"Assault, begin!"

Their war flags billowed in the wind. The shape of Zirnitra ―― a pitch-black dragon, the symbol of the Kingdom of Zhcted, adorned the war flags.

The rush of the air as they advanced. In the knights' hands were swords and spears, otherwise bows, and they followed the girl's lead, galloping on their horses towards the hilltop.

The soldiers on sentry duty had finally noticed the enemy assault, hearing the sounds of hooves striking ground, as if the earth was crying out.

"The enemy ―― "

The girl, with a flash of her sword, changed what escaped from the soldier's throat from a warning cry to a fountain of spurting blood.

Against the background of the gradually brightening sky, the girl led a force of a thousand men directly into the enemy camp, causing wanton destruction. The army of Brune had fallen into chaos. There were even soldiers who threw down their weapons, fleeing for their lives.

Although there were soldiers who had bravely tried to mount a resistance, the difference in the impetus of their assault were too different.

Above all, the valiant girl who led the forces of Zhcted. With her longsword she stood at the frontlines of battle, and was overwhelming in her strength.

With just one assault, hordes of enemy soldiers had been slain, or crushed beneath the hooves of horses. Even so, not a single drop of blood stained her body.

Each time her longsword had caused the wind to howl, the bodies that littered the ground increased.

Her silvery-white hair swaying with the wind, the girl had attacked the enemy camp in this fashion, with the horde of knights that had followed her lead.

At this point in time, victory and defeat looked certain, for the respective sides.

<big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big>

His ears were ringing.

Screams, shrieks, death cries, hooves clacking on the ground and the sound of weapons clashing against each other filled his ears.

"...Ugh"

He woke up.

Spread out wide before his eyes was the blue sky that seemed like it would suck one in, in its vastness.

Pushing away the weight that was resting upon his body, Tigre got up.

When the ringing in his ears was gone, he could hear the sound of the wind and faint fading moans. The rustling of the pieces of the broken war flags and the trampled grass could also be heard.

Dust creeped along the ground in the wind, and the smell of blood reached his nose.

"Did I lose consciousness.... "

Tottering, he rose on his feet, and what greeted him was the sight of corpses as far as the eyes could see, a hill of death.

The grass was stained with blood, and the land was buried with hundreds, or even thousands of corpses, scattered about. A wave of nausea came over him, and he covered his mouth with his hand. He felt a moist sensation, and he saw that his hand was dyed red.

―― Blood...?

He checked his face and his entire head, but it seemed he was not wounded.

"Somebody else's blood, huh."

It seemed that Tigre had somehow been buried underneath a few corpses. Because of that, he had managed to escape the eyes of the enemy.

"Bertrand! Lord Mashas!"

He called out the names of his aide and the old knight he was close with, but there were no replies.

He tried calling out the names of the soldiers that were under him, but as expected, there were no responses.

"If they got away, then it's fine, I suppose."

Wherever he looked, there were only corpses. Amongst the corpses, were scattered swords, broken spears, and the remnants of ruined flags.

Vision was limited by the morning fog that obscured the far distance, but, nothing moved in his field of vision. No allies, nor enemies.

Anger and hatred for the enemy did not gush out from within him. More than that, he was dragged down by the weight of fatigue and tiredness, and he sighed.

"A terrible battle it was..."

Roughly around dawn, a surprise attack had been launched against the Brune army. In the ensuing mayhem, their vanguard came under attack as well, and with that came the downfall of the army of twenty five thousand.

―― Yesterday, before midnight, our army had confirmed that the enemy forces were directly in front of us. In other words, Zhcted had split their army into two. A two-pronged assault on both the rearguard and the vanguard.

Tigre had felt the chills run down his spine.

The plan was simple. Even a child could have come up with it.

―― What was fearsome was, their calm execution of the plan, against forces five times their number.

They had fewer soldiers, and on top of that, split their forces. A small mistake, and their entire force would have been crushed. The soldiers must have been against it, to no small degree.

―― However, it had been a splendid success.

The Brune army had been routed.

Washed away with the stampede of fleeing allies, Tigre had been unable to take command of the soldiers. Falling from his horse, he had then fainted.

It seemed more like Tigre's unit had been done in by their own allies.

"Nevertheless...."

Tigre remembered. The one who stood at the front of the enemy forces, her longsword flashing, the silver-haired girl who cut down the Brune soldiers one by one without pause ―― he had only caught a short glimpse of her.

"Was that the Vanadis?"

The Princess of War, also known as the Vanadis, was always at the frontline of battle ―― that was what Mashas had said.

The inappropriate memory of her beauty surfaced in Tigre's mind. He ruffled his dark red hair, as though reflecting upon it.

Fortunately, his bow had fallen close by.

Picking it up, he plucked the bowstring while feeling a measure of uneasiness and anxiety.

"...It's working fine."

He was relieved. If the bow had been bent, the bowstring would slacken, rendering it useless.

There were still a few arrows left in his quiver.

He raised his head skywards, and calculated the directions based on the position of the sun.

"That way's west, eh."

From this battlefield, going west would lead one to Brune, and east, to Zhcted.

Enduring the pain coursing through his entire body, Tigre slowly walked towards the west. Noticing something moving within his field of vision, he stopped.

A lone knight on a horse was galloping towards him, sword brandished.

Tigre entered a stance with his bow, and drew a single arrow.

The knight's horse trampled on or leapt over the corpses lying all around, and drew closer to Tigre. When the distance between them had been shortened to thirty alcin (approximately thirty meters), the knight suddenly roared out.

"A survivor of the Brune army? I'll have your head!"

Tigre remained silent, nocking an arrow to his bow. Casually, he released the arrow.

It was a blur.

When the thud was heard, an arrow could be seen piercing the knight's throat.

It was with amazing speed and calmness.

Completely unable to respond, the knight's body spasmed and lurched to the side, falling to the ground with a thump.

Having lost its rider, the horse let out a high-pitched neigh, and before Tigre could even walk over to it, it had galloped away into the distance.

"I give up... things aren't going my way at all."

He sighed. If he had a horse, he could have escaped from the battlefield with ease.

Trudging forward, Tigre resumed his journey on foot. But it was not even ten steps before he came to a stop again.

"Are they enemies?"

Three hundred alcin (approximately three hundred meters) ahead, he could see a group of knights. If they spotted him, he would be chased down immediately.

"... There's seven of them."

Tigre was born with a pair of good eyes. Those eyes of his had been further trained by hunting, to the point that even at three hundred alcin, he could distinguish the facial features of a person.

He ascertained the contents of his quiver. There were only four arrows left.

Though he had confidence in his skill with the bow, he probably could not take down two men with a single arrow. If all of them charged him like that knight did earlier, there was nothing he could do.

―― Let them be my allies.

While praying that, Tigre observed the knights. When he saw the face of the leading knight, his eyes widened in shock.

"The Vanadis...."

When the Zhcted forces had launched the surprise attack, she was the one who was leading the attack at the front.

Tigre was so charmed by her that he forgot to draw breath.

A young maiden of the same age as him. Her silver hair reached down to her waist, uncovered by armour and shimmering in the rays of sunlight. In those crimson eyes there was radiance and dignity.

Those arms of hers were slender, fitting of a girl her age, yet it inexplicably seemed suited for the longsword that she grasped in her hand.

―― Lord Mashas had once said that she possessed a beauty unmatched by all but a few.

It was just as he had said. To judge that beauty based on normality, was out of the question. The more he looked at her, the more he had to agree with that statement.

Finally, Tigre snapped back to his senses. He shook his head, shaking off his idle thoughts, and calmly focused his sight upon the Vanadis' group.

The other knights were her escort, it seemed. As though protecting her, they moved their horses forward.

―― If he slew the Vanadis....

There was no reversing of the overwhelming defeat suffered by his side. Right now, they should be chasing down the fleeing Brune army in a large-scale pursuit battle.

"...But, should I strike her down, the pursuit battle would have to cease."

If Mashas, Bertrand and the other soldiers that came from Alsace had survived, then it would be a great increase to the likelihood of them making it out alive.

Fighting spirit welled up inside him. The hand that grasped his bow was filled with strength.

"I'll do it."

Tigre drew an arrow, and nocked it.

"O Eris, goddess of wind and storm..."

The creaking sound of the tightening, tense bowstring filled his eardrums.

On this continent, the maximum range for the bow was two hundred and fifty alcin (approximately two hundred and fifty meters).

This number merely represented how far the arrow could fly, a calculated distance.

If one wished to inflict bodily harm upon the target, the distance would be far less than that.

The Vanadis was still, as of that moment, about three hundred alcin (approximately three hundred metres) away from him.

Even so, Tigre still released the arrow.

The arrow tore through the wind, and embedded itself in the head of a horse being ridden by a knight next to the Vanadis.

As the horse collapsed onto the ground, bringing the knight down along with it, Tigre let loose a second arrow.

That arrow pierced the area between a knight's brows.

"Alright."

At last, as two of the escorts were down, a path was cleared.

A path to the silver-haired, crimson-eyed Vanadis. An opening for an arrow to reach her, was created.

"The real thing starts from here."

Tigre extended his hand into his quiver, and his breath grew heavy, and hot.

Even when in the depths of the mountain where sunlight did not reach, facing off against {{Furigana|Earth Dragons|Slō}} which were over forty chet (approximately four metres) long, he did not experience nervousness as he did now.

―― Assuming the other knights wanted to protect her, they were hindered by the fallen horse and knights. To get around them would take some time.

Although that time was a rather short time, indeed.

But to Tigre, it was enough.

―― In this situation, what actions she could undertake, is to either lie face-down on the horse, or get off the horse entirely, either one of the two.

On both her left and right were escorts, hence she could not move in those directions. There was a route to her back, but only for a few steps; it was not a viable route of evasive action. And at her front were her fallen subordinates and a horse. It would be difficult to cross over them without a running long jump, and horses disliked that.

Even if this Vanadis had managed that, from the start of the jump till the landing, there would surely be a small interval of opening.

And then Tigre, who had once again been focusing his gaze on the Vanadis, was assailed by an intense chill.

The Vanadis was smiling.

She was clearly looking at him. And in excitement.

"Kuh."

Tigre grit his teeth. Evidently, she was not taking him seriously. He drew the remaining two arrows from his quiver. One he bit on with his teeth, the other he nocked onto his bow.

But what happened at that moment was an unbelievable sight.

The horse the Vanadis rode on, gently soared into the air.

Far above the fallen subordinates.

That height, was probably twenty chet (around two metres).

It seemed to Tigre that the horse had almost grew a pair of wings and flew. It was not a 'jump', but closer to 'flight'.

"What was that, earlier... ?"

Fear and dread wracked Tigre's body. He almost thought his eyes were deceiving him.

A horse that carried a rider, it should not have been able to jump a height of twenty chet without a running start.

[[Image:Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis_Volume_01_-_040.jpg|175px|thumb]]

Yet the Vanadis had, with a calmness as though nothing ever happened, galloped in his direction.

―― Do not fear... !

He rebuked himself. ''I had merely been seeing things.''

Scowling at her, Tigre released the third arrow.

Riding upon the wind, the arrow travelled through the air. Just as it was about to hit dead centre on her forehead ―― it was struck down by a flash of silver.

"... No way?"

Tigre's eyes widened with his jaws agape.

She had struck down an arrow that came flying from over a hundred alcin at high speed with her sword.

Feats of that degree, came only from the likes of ''chanson de geste'', legends of braves and heroes. It was not something normal humans were capable of.

He nocked the last arrow.

He had absolute confidence in his bow. To say nothing of the fact that the opponent was charging straight towards him, and the distance of three hundred alcin had almost been closed.

―― It's impossible to miss.

He aimed the arrow straight at her forehead, like earlier ―― but was in the same manner, deflected.

During this interval, the horse spurred on by the Vanadis did not even slow for a moment, and approached him as fiercely as before. In about ten seconds, they would reach him.

"Is this the end?"

He had used up all his arrows, and had no other weapons. Escaping from a horse on foot was also not possible.

Grasping his bow tightly, Tigre stood up, gathering strength in his legs. He did not want to look too unsightly.

The Vanadis came before Tigre, and stopped her horse.

The young girl's silver hair was neither dirtied by blood nor sand.

She had white skin, that made him recall of the perpetual snow that piled up at the mountains of his hometown.

A refined appearance, with a well-featured nose and moist, bewitching lips that gave one the impression of a top-grade sculpture. However, the crimson eyes overflowing with vitality reminded one that she was a flesh-and-blood human.

She thrust the tip of the longsword at Tigre.

"Throw aside your bow."

He had no choice but to do as told. Nodding her head as though satisfied, the Vanadis said with a smile.

"You have good skill."

Tigre only realised after a while that she had been referring to him.

―― I'm being complimented...? Even though I'm someone who had been aiming his arrows at her only just earlier?

More than being pleased, he felt bewildered.

"I am Eleonora Viltaria. And you are?"

"Tigrevurmud Vorn."

"Are you a noble? Of what rank?"

Within the various countries included in the Kingdoms of Brune and Zhcted, those that bore surnames were of nobility. Besides a few exceptions, those who were not of nobility had no surname.

Tigre answered that he was an Earl, and her smile widened.

"Very well, Earl Vorn."

While sheathing her longsword into the scabbard at her waist, Eleonora cheerfully told him.

"From now on, you belong to me, as my prisoner of war."

While he was dumbfounded by those unexpected words, her escorts had finally caught up.

They surrounded Tigre fully, pointing their swords and spears at him, but when Eleonora waved her hand, they withdrew their weapons with a seemingly surprised look.

"Rim, let him ride behind you. He's a captive of mine. I don't mind if you rough him up a bit, but don't seriously wound him."

The knight named Rim nodded in silence. Because the knight's entire head was covered by a helmet, Tigre could not see their reaction.

"Quickly get on."

Looking down at Tigre, Rim spoke in a low voice from within the helmet. Tigre quickly realised why he felt that Rim's voice towards him bore a degree of anger.

Rim was the knight whose horse he had slain earlier.

―― Was the horse borrowed from the other knights? Even amongst the other escorts, this person ought to be a step above them.

"Is it alright if I take my bow as well?"

Tigre asked, pointing at the bow he had thrown aside onto the ground earlier.

"It's important to me."

He pointed out his lack of hostility by showing his empty quiver. Rim extended a hand out towards him, from on top the horse.

"Fine by me. However, I'll be holding on to it."

Tigre handed his bow over to Rim, and got up onto the rear of the horse. He then placed his hands on Rim's waist.

Suddenly Rim's neck bent backwards. The back of the helmet struck Tigre in the face, hard.

"What're you doing!"

Suppressing his reddening nose, Tigre protested. Eleonora laughed, her shoulders trembling.

"Rim, for the time being, he's my captive. Be a little more gentle to him."

"...I hear and obey."

Though the voice was clearly oozing with dissatisfaction, Rim obeyed anyway.

"If you dare to do something weird, I'll immediately throw you off the horse, and trample you to death."

Tigre sighed. Partly due to Rim's tremendous anger towards him, and also due to his own uncertainty about his future prospects.

Turning towards the knights, Eleonora proclaimed exultantly.

"Though a dull battle it had been, but I was able to enjoy myself at the end. ―― Well then, let us withdraw."

The Battle at the Plains of Dinant, had ended with the one-sided victory of the Kingdom of Zhcted.

Less than a hundred deaths were suffered by Zhcted, while Brune had a deathcount of over five thousand in the war, with the injured more than twice as many as the deaths.

But the losses was not limited to just that. Brune concealed something, a fact that would be hard to conceal no matter how hard they tried.

That was the death in battle of the supreme commander, the next-in-line to become King, Prince Legunas.

==Translator's Notes and References==
<references/>

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| Back to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume01_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume01_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
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</noinclude>

Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume01 Chapter1

2017-02-25T11:01:27Z

An Orange Peon:

=== Chapter 1 - Encounter with the Vanadis ===

"Tigre-sama."

The voice of a girl that he had grown used to hearing reached his ears, and he felt his body being shaken. Because of the bright light shining through the window, he knew that morning had come. However, he was still sleepy.

"A little longer... just a little longer."

"How long is 'a little longer,' may I ask?"

"There aren't any plans to go hunting today, so until noon..."

"Cut it out and please wake up!" the girl roared out loud.

He was stripped of his blanket, his shoulders were grabbed, and he was woken up violently.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that the bright red face of the girl, boiling with anger, was in close proximity.

She had a child-like face, which had no intimidating power even when she was angry. Her chestnut-colored hair was tied in twin tails. Her small body was dressed in a uniform with black long sleeves, a black skirt that reached down to her feet, and also a white apron that gave off a feeling of cleanliness.

"Ah... morning, Titta."

[[Image:Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis_Volume_01_-_012.jpg|175px|thumb]]

With a slow, drowsy voice, Tigre called out the name of the maidservant. Seeing that he seemed to be awake at last, Titta released her hand.

"The soldiers have already finished their preparations a long time ago, and are all waiting for Tigre-sama!"

Tigre was confused, and thought about what she had just said.

The blood rushed from his face immediately as the realization sank in.

"Oh crap!"

As though rolling out of his bed, he got up, and Titta held out a set of folded clothes for him. Beside her feet was a small pail, filled with water.

"Thank you. You're well prepared, as always."

"That is because I expected this to happen. I will go and prepare breakfast, so please wash your face and get changed in the mean time."

With the anger gone from her face, Titta gave a cheerful smile and bowed, pulling the hem of her skirt slightly upwards in a curtsy, and left the room gracefully.

Tigre washed his face, the cool and refreshing feeling cleansed the lingering drowsiness from him. He dashed out of the room while putting on his clothes, buttoning them up as he ran down the corridor.

"Though I don't have any time left... I still can't slack off."

He originally intended to go straight for the dining room, but instead he headed towards the small room at the end of the corridor.

This was a room small enough that three adults would be unable to sit down inside together at once. Standing at the opposite end of the room to the entrance was an exquisitely decorated rack, and on it was a bow. The bowstring was drawn firm and taut, and it seemed like it was ready to be used at any time. If one were to describe the bow in a single word, it would be "black." The handle, the bowstring -- the entire bow was pure black, without luster or shine. It would not be unbelievable to say that this bow was cut and made from darkness.

―― The mere sight of it gave off an oppressive feeling...

That mysterious bow was a family heirloom of the Vorn family, and was said to have been used by their hunter ancestors.

Tigre's father had left behind a last request regarding the bow.

''"Use this bow only when you are truly in need of it. Do not use it under any other circumstance."''

After hearing his father's will, Tigre had felt an indescribably eerie feeling from the bow, and decided not to touch it.

Tigre stood up straight, regulated his breathing, placed his clenched fist against his chest, and moved it horizontally. Then he bowed for his ancestors. After finishing this action, he quietly left the room and headed to the dining room.

Tigrevurmud Vorn was sixteen this year. He had been born in an earl's house in the Kingdom of Brune, and had succeeded the family name after his father had passed away due to an illness. His name had been passed down by his ancestors who had obtained the position of an earl. But because it was such a mouthful, he himself found it to be too long and troublesome to call, he asked those close to him to address him as "Tigre."

Tigre stepped into the dining room, and smelled a delicious aroma.

There was ham wrapped in fried egg, rye bread, milk, mushroom soup and others, all hot enough for a faint vapor to waft from them, set on a simple dining table. Titta stood on standby beside beside the table.

"Just the soup will do," said Tigre.

"That won't do," Titta replied. When it came to food, she was extremely stubborn. "Do you want your stomach to growl in front of everyone? It would be unsightly."

Titta placed her hands on her hips and glared directly at Tigre. It was an intense look, very unlike a maidservant. It was far more frightening than when she had woken him up. Tigre knew well that he could not win this argument, so he gave in readily.

After washing the bread down with milk, he grabbed the plate and gobbled down the fried egg and finished the soup in great gulps.

"Thank you for the meal," he said as he stood up. Titta immediately walked up to him, a comb and napkin in her hands.

"There is still a little bit left on your mouth. Please wipe it properly." She spoke as though she was a little angry, as she wiped his mouth clean with the napkin for him. "You have some bed-hair as well." She reached up with the hand that held the comb and thoroughly brushed Tigre's hair. "Look, even your collar's crooked." She placed the comb and napkin down on the table and arranged his collar neatly. Tigre quietly accepted this all the while.

" ―― Tigre-sama."

"What is it?"

Titta's voice had suddenly lost its strictness, becoming rather feminine. She called out to Tigre gently. Because she was a year younger than him, he had always thought of her as his younger sister.

"Why does Tigre-sama have to go out and do battle?"

Tigre's expression became a little troubled. He ran his hand through his dark red hair. There were times when Titta would ask these kinds of difficult questions, and he would find himself at a loss trying to come up with an answer.

"It's because of His Majesty's military draft," Tigre replied. "It is only natural that the house of Earl Vorn do its part for the Kingdom of Brune."

"B-but..." Titta looked up at Tigre with teary eyes, and she argued back vehemently," It wasn't easy for us to muster even a hundred soldiers..."

There were many different types of nobles. Among them, Tigre's house, while not "poor," could be described as "simple." Other similar adjectives would not be far off the mark as well. Such was the state of the noble family of Vorn.

The territory House Vorn ruled was called Alsace, and was situated in the countryside, far from the central areas of the kingdom. Not only was it a small piece of land, but it was also dominated by forests and mountains, and thus there was little to reap profits from. Even Tigre's lifestyle was far from what one might expect from a noble. It lacked in both luxury and grandeur. The house that he lived in was not large. The fact that Titta alone could manage all of the domestic chores in the house was proof of that.

"Furthermore," Titta continued, "I've heard that the enemy is the Kingdom of Zhcted. If that's the case, shouldn't Tigre-sama stay here? After all, Zhcted and Alsace are only separated by a mountain."

"That may be so, but this is a place that's as rural as it gets. Not even Zhcted would think of invading here."

To Tigre, the fact that Alsace would not be turned into a battlefield was a good thing.

"W-what's more... don't they always make a fool out of Tigre-sama for your archery?"

"It is impossible to leave behind a ''chanson de geste''<ref>[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chanson_de_geste Chanson de geste] "songs of heroic deeds" are epic poems in Old French, often regarding military prowess or legendary battles.</ref> with the bow."

"It's fine even without a ''chanson de geste!''" Titta insisted loudly, before burying her face into Tigre's chest. "I only... wish that you do not push yourself too hard, and that no injuries should befall you. And please return in good health."

The slender body of the maidservant embraced Tigre lightly.

"Don't worry too much," he said. "Didn't I return unharmed from my first battle two years ago?"

"That time, Urs-sama was..."

Titta's voice trailed off halfway. Urs was Tigre's late father.

In order to ease Titta's heart, Tigre patted her lightly on the head.

"In this battle, my unit will be located behind the main forces," he said. "It's a safe place to be. And no matter what happens, I'll think of something."

Tigre brought his hand up to wipe the tears from the corner of Titta's eyes.

"I understand," she nodded. Then she said, "L-listen well, Tigre-sama. Please don't oversleep on the battlefield."

"The way you say it makes it sound like I'm always oversleeping."

"It's true," Titta rebutted. "Isn't the only time that Tigre-sama wakes up on time is when you go hunting?"

Despite her words, Tigre knew that Titta was cheering for him with all her heart. Tigre hugged her again, while Titta relaxed her body and let Tigre hold her. He could feel the warmth of her body even through her clothes, and her chestnut hair gave off a faint fragrance. Although he would have liked to stay like this for a little while longer, he did not have time. Tigre reluctantly released her.

"I'm counting on you to watch the house, Titta."

Titta wiped her tears away with her sleeve and said, smiling:

"Please leave it to me, Tigre-sama. Take care of yourself too."

As Tigre walked out of the front door while hefting his bow and quiver on his back, he saw that the soldiers were already in formation waiting for him. A short old man wearing leather armor walked up to him and bowed his head.

"Young master, everyone has been assembled. The preparations are also complete."

"Well done, Bertrand."

This old man was Tigre's aide. Compared with the young Tigre, he had far more experience in battle, and within this unit, he was the only person besides Tigre who was trained in equestrianism.

As for the rest, they were all leather-armour wearing soldiers with swords hung on their hips and wielding spears.

"I sure have gathered a fair number."

Tigre heaved a sigh, and some of the more experienced soldiers half-jokingly said,

"Milord, there's naught to be worried about. Though we've not fought in a war for three years, we've spent our days working with the plough, and as such our bodies have grown tough, aye."

"Going against His Majesty's command, would be like disobeying the ol' missus, no? Then we are left no choice, but to obey."

"Your words are much appreciated. Why don't we simply bring your wife along as well? A few angry roars from her would be able to scare off even a thousand or two of the enemy soldiers, eh?"

The soldiers laughed uproariously.

"It would be best to give up on that, young master. This man's missus differentiates not between friend or foe!"

Bertrand had interjected with banter of his own, and Tigre ended this conversation with a shrug of his shoulders.

―― It looked like morale was not going to be a problem.

After waiting for their laughter to subside, Tigre saluted. Then, he mounted the horse that Bertrand had brought over, and raised his right hand up in the air, and gave a command.

"Our destination is the Plains of Dinant. En-route, we will be joining up with Lord Mashas'<ref>Pronounced as Mah-ss-ha-ss</ref> forces."

The soldiers raised the war flags up high.

They carried two different flags. One had a blue base with a white half-moon and shooting star, the war flag of House Vorn. The other was of Bayarl ―― a sacred horse with a black mane and crimson body, the symbol of the Kingdom of Brune.

"With that, let us move out!"

The Kingdom of Brune, with the Kingdom of Zhcted located at its east, have had their swords at each other's throats for over twenty years.

The reason for the conflict this time, was due to the flooding of the river that served as the border of the two countries, caused by torrential rain.

Firstly, the victims of the flood were quick to point fingers at the other country, saying 'tis all because those fellows from yonder haven't been doing their job with the river', which served as the sparks that started the fire.

Next, both countries that were petitioned to by the victims, maintained the stance that 'there are problems with their flood control solutions', which fanned the flames of hostility even more, and finally resulting in a full-scale conflict.

If it were just that, Tigre should not have been summoned to the battlefield.

"The enemy forces number roughly five thousand, but our own forces number over twenty five thousand. 'Tis pleasant news, truly."

The one who spoke with sarcasm in his voice, beside Tigre, was a knight that was already past middle-age, Mashas Rodant.

Mashas was a friend of Tigre's father, and had often taken care of Tigre, his benefactor.

"They say it's because His Royal Highness is riding into battle for the first time, have you heard of that?"

Tigre asked, while riding next to Mashas.

"'Tis likely to be true. His Majesty does dote on him, after all."

His portly body equipped with iron armour and helmet, Mashas stroked his mustache in displeasure.

"The conflict this time round, is almost like a squabble between children, resulting in their parents having to step in, it is not something that would drastically alter the country's future. Based on the meaning of that, for His Highness ―― Prince Legunas, we are merely decorations in his first battle...to be precise, this is for him to gain some experience."

For his beloved son's first battle, the King must have wanted him to win a glorious victory.

The King had sent out all of the knights directly under him, and the nobles that lived near the Plains of Dinant which was soon to become a battlefield too, had received the call to war.

Even minor nobles like Tigre and Mashas.

Those assembled numbered over twenty five thousand.

The forces commanded by Mashas were about three hundred men strong. Within that, there were about fifty knights.

Though the numbers were not small, compared to the entire twenty five thousand strong army, they were but a drop in the ocean, and the same went for Tigre, which was the reason the both of them had been assigned to the rear end of the formation.

"The odds favour those who gather the greater army ―― 'tis but the basics of war. One day, Prince Legunas will succeed the throne. His Majesty was not wrong to do so, was he?"

Tigre patted the old knight on the shoulder in consolation.

Those words that he had said were rhetorics. If he did not say it out loud, perhaps he might have lost his will to fight.

"No doubt about it, we are but minor nobility, we only have to obediently wait at the back. If everyone bears the same mindset that this would be an assured victory, and lunge headfirst into battle for glory... that reminds me, Tigre, have you heard of the Princesses of War?"

He asked as though he had suddenly recalled something, and Tigre tilted his head.

"The Seven Vanadis of Zhcted, you mean?"

"Yes, that's the one alright. It seems that the enemy forces are being lead by one of the Vanadis. Though only sixteen years old, she has been undefeated, attaining victory after victory. An excellent swordswoman, she stands at the forefront of battle, cutting down all before her, known and feared as the [{{Furigana|Danseuse of the Sword|Meltis}}], or the [{{Furigana|Wind Princess of the Silverflash|Silvfrahl}}]."

The Kingdom of Zhcted was ruled by a King, and the Seven Vanadis.

―― The same age as me, huh.

Tigre had an inexplicable feeling, about this yet unmet enemy general. Though they were the same age, and she was even a female, she had far more battle experience and had performed many heroic feats, and commanded a five thousand strong army.

In the Kingdom of Brune that Tigre was born in, women were not allowed to become knights, except those born of high nobility.

So far in this war, Tigre had not even seen a single female knight.

Because of that reason, he felt excited.

"What name does she go by, this Vanadis?"

"If my memory doesn't fail me, she's called Eleonora Viltaria. The rumours say that she's a real beauty. If one were to place a precious gemstone next to her, it would pale in comparison."

"Is she really that beautiful?"

"It's great that you're excited hearing about beauties, but remember to keep it in moderation. Otherwise, Titta'll get jealous."

Mashas' grey mustache trembled with his laughter, and Tigre replied sullenly.

"Why did Titta's name suddenly get mentioned? She's only like a sister ―― "

"Ever since you were kids, people have said that the pair of you were like a lazy older brother and a capable younger sister."

Even though he put it that way, Tigre could not make a rebuttal. Scratching his dark red hair, he changed the topic.

"If the Vanadis is truly that great a general as the rumours say, then we're in for a hard battle, aren't we?"

"That may be so, but the difference in military strength is simply too great. Even with a specialist of war leading them, they probably wouldn't be able to overcome that disparity."

No matter how hard the Vanadis fought, they would not be able to make up for the overwhelming difference in numbers, five times to be exact.

Tigre would have liked to voice out his agreement, but for some reason he could not do so.

He had an ominous, foreboding feeling. At the region around the back of his neck, he felt a sensation as though being burned.

This was not the first time he had experienced this kind of feeling.

Like those times when he was out hunting, and was surrounded by wolves due to carelessness ―― or when he ran into dragons while in the mountains.

Or when he had woken up in the morning, and was sporting some major morning wood, and Titta had came to wake up him like she always did.

In any case, when he had this kind of feeling, something bad was about to happen.

"You don't seem too overjoyed."

He had been wearing his true feelings on his face, it seemed, and Mashas looked over in concern.

"Are you worried about something? You don't seem like your usual carefree self."

"What carefree self... aren't there other ways to describe me, like imperturbable?"

Tigre said unhappily, to which Mashas smiled.

"It's fine even if you try to brush it off with difficult vocabulary. As for me, I remember that day as though it were just yesterday. Two years ago, when you had succeeded Urs."

"I, did I say something then?"

"When the representatives of those villages and towns had asked you how to manage Alsace, didn't you answer them with a 'well, it'll work out somehow'? If that isn't carefree, what is?"

Tigre did not reply, only shrugged his shoulders.

However, Mashas did not stop there.

"When Urs was still with us, he had always praised you as someone who was 'calm and steadfast, though a little optimistic. He does make good judgments, and also has a strong body'. Those were exactly the words of a father favouring his son, weren't they."

"Even if you say that, I do have confidence in my way of doing things."

Only after Mashas had finished speaking, did Tigre answer.

It was the truth that no major problems had occurred in Alsace.

Though slowly, their assets had been growing steadily. Those representatives who had been stunned at his casual statement then got along pretty well with him after that.

"Besides those days where you go hunting, are you able to wake up on your own? Without Titta's help, of course."

"... No, about that...."

"I've heard from Titta that...if you had two or three days off, you would grab your bow and quiver and head off into the forests or mountains to hunt."

Tigre's shoulder sagged in his silence, he could not refute that fact.

"Forget I ever said anything. It's good enough that you are performing your duties as a governor. That you can tell just by seeing their faces."

Mashas looked over his shoulders, back at the soldiers.

Their fighting spirits were low due to being deployed at the rear, but not a single person had voiced his unhappiness or anger over it.

"Tigre, our job is to bring these men back home safely. Not thinking how to win this battle. I'm not sure what you're thinking about, but don't worry too much about it."

"Thank you for your concern."

Tigre expressed his gratitude for Mashas' concern.

It was as he had said, there was no point thinking too much about it.

It was frustrating, but they were only called to the battlefield as decorations for the Royal Prince.

No one had expected them to contribute to the battle, nor did Tigre or Mashas expect anyone to make use of their forces.

A few days later, Tigre and company had arrived at Dinant.

The twenty thousand strong main force, the vanguard were lined up at the foot of the hill. The rearguard that was commanded by Prince Legunas, five thousand strong, were on standby at the top of the hill. Naturally, Tigre and Mashas were part of the rearguard.

Just from these facts, the odds of them having to enter the fray were miniscule.

<big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big>

The time was before daybreak. Under the dark sky, a thousand soldiers were advancing in silence.

They dulled the metallic parts of their swords and spears with mud to stop the reflection from giving them away, made their horses bite on boards, and wrapped their hooves with cotton cloth. Extreme measures of caution.

In that manner, they were undiscovered by the enemy, and arrived at the side of the hill.

If they climbed its gentle slopes, they would be able to see the enemy forces ―― the rearguard of the Brune army had night sentries, after all. The flames of the campfire flickered, burning.

" ―― Let us rest. Begin the preparations."

The silver-haired girl who was at the forefront, leading all of these knights, lightly smiled. The soldiers did as she bidded and started to rest, and retrieved the boards and cloth from their horses.

Before long, the scouts that they had sent out earlier had returned.

Hearing from the scouts that the enemies were sound asleep and did not notice their movements, the girl turned around and faced the knights. Drawing the longsword at her waist, she raised it high in the air, as a light wind blew.

"The enemies right before our eyes number five thousand, five times our number. A rearguard it may be, but if that is where the supreme commander is positioned, then it would be reasonable to assume the presence of many elites."

However, the girl's crimson eyes were filled with fighting spirit, and she continued.

"Even so, I will go. And thus, achieve victory. Will you follow me?"

The knights silently raised their arms, pointing their swords and spears toward the sky.

The girl turned her head in the direction of the enemy, driving her horse forward, and brought down her longsword in an arc.

"Assault, begin!"

Their war flags billowed in the wind. The shape of Zirnitra ―― a pitch-black dragon, the symbol of the Kingdom of Zhcted, adorned the war flags.

The rush of the air as they advanced. In the knights' hands were swords and spears, otherwise bows, and they followed the girl's lead, galloping on their horses towards the hilltop.

The soldiers on sentry duty had finally noticed the enemy assault, hearing the sounds of hooves striking ground, as if the earth was crying out.

"The enemy ―― "

The girl, with a flash of her sword, changed what escaped from the soldier's throat from a warning cry to a fountain of spurting blood.

Against the background of the gradually brightening sky, the girl led a force of a thousand men directly into the enemy camp, causing wanton destruction. The army of Brune had fallen into chaos. There were even soldiers who threw down their weapons, fleeing for their lives.

Although there were soldiers who had bravely tried to mount a resistance, the difference in the impetus of their assault were too different.

Above all, the valiant girl who led the forces of Zhcted. With her longsword she stood at the frontlines of battle, and was overwhelming in her strength.

With just one assault, hordes of enemy soldiers had been slain, or crushed beneath the hooves of horses. Even so, not a single drop of blood stained her body.

Each time her longsword had caused the wind to howl, the bodies that littered the ground increased.

Her silvery-white hair swaying with the wind, the girl had attacked the enemy camp in this fashion, with the horde of knights that had followed her lead.

At this point in time, victory and defeat looked certain, for the respective sides.

<big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big>

His ears were ringing.

Screams, shrieks, death cries, hooves clacking on the ground and the sound of weapons clashing against each other filled his ears.

"...Ugh"

He woke up.

Spread out wide before his eyes was the blue sky that seemed like it would suck one in, in its vastness.

Pushing away the weight that was resting upon his body, Tigre got up.

When the ringing in his ears was gone, he could hear the sound of the wind and faint fading moans. The rustling of the pieces of the broken war flags and the trampled grass could also be heard.

Dust creeped along the ground in the wind, and the smell of blood reached his nose.

"Did I lose consciousness.... "

Tottering, he rose on his feet, and what greeted him was the sight of corpses as far as the eyes could see, a hill of death.

The grass was stained with blood, and the land was buried with hundreds, or even thousands of corpses, scattered about. A wave of nausea came over him, and he covered his mouth with his hand. He felt a moist sensation, and he saw that his hand was dyed red.

―― Blood...?

He checked his face and his entire head, but it seemed he was not wounded.

"Somebody else's blood, huh."

It seemed that Tigre had somehow been buried underneath a few corpses. Because of that, he had managed to escape the eyes of the enemy.

"Bertrand! Lord Mashas!"

He called out the names of his aide and the old knight he was close with, but there were no replies.

He tried calling out the names of the soldiers that were under him, but as expected, there were no responses.

"If they got away, then it's fine, I suppose."

Wherever he looked, there were only corpses. Amongst the corpses, were scattered swords, broken spears, and the remnants of ruined flags.

Vision was limited by the morning fog that obscured the far distance, but, nothing moved in his field of vision. No allies, nor enemies.

Anger and hatred for the enemy did not gush out from within him. More than that, he was dragged down by the weight of fatigue and tiredness, and he sighed.

"A terrible battle it was..."

Roughly around dawn, a surprise attack had been launched against the Brune army. In the ensuing mayhem, their vanguard came under attack as well, and with that came the downfall of the army of twenty five thousand.

―― Yesterday, before midnight, our army had confirmed that the enemy forces were directly in front of us. In other words, Zhcted had split their army into two. A two-pronged assault on both the rearguard and the vanguard.

Tigre had felt the chills run down his spine.

The plan was simple. Even a child could have come up with it.

―― What was fearsome was, their calm execution of the plan, against forces five times their number.

They had fewer soldiers, and on top of that, split their forces. A small mistake, and their entire force would have been crushed. The soldiers must have been against it, to no small degree.

―― However, it had been a splendid success.

The Brune army had been routed.

Washed away with the stampede of fleeing allies, Tigre had been unable to take command of the soldiers. Falling from his horse, he had then fainted.

It seemed more like Tigre's unit had been done in by their own allies.

"Nevertheless...."

Tigre remembered. The one who stood at the front of the enemy forces, her longsword flashing, the silver-haired girl who cut down the Brune soldiers one by one without pause ―― he had only caught a short glimpse of her.

"Was that the Vanadis?"

The Princess of War, also known as the Vanadis, was always at the frontline of battle ―― that was what Mashas had said.

The inappropriate memory of her beauty surfaced in Tigre's mind. He ruffled his dark red hair, as though reflecting upon it.

Fortunately, his bow had fallen close by.

Picking it up, he plucked the bowstring while feeling a measure of uneasiness and anxiety.

"...It's working fine."

He was relieved. If the bow had been bent, the bowstring would slacken, rendering it useless.

There were still a few arrows left in his quiver.

He raised his head skywards, and calculated the directions based on the position of the sun.

"That way's west, eh."

From this battlefield, going west would lead one to Brune, and east, to Zhcted.

Enduring the pain coursing through his entire body, Tigre slowly walked towards the west. Noticing something moving within his field of vision, he stopped.

A lone knight on a horse was galloping towards him, sword brandished.

Tigre entered a stance with his bow, and drew a single arrow.

The knight's horse trampled on or leapt over the corpses lying all around, and drew closer to Tigre. When the distance between them had been shortened to thirty alcin (approximately thirty meters), the knight suddenly roared out.

"A survivor of the Brune army? I'll have your head!"

Tigre remained silent, nocking an arrow to his bow. Casually, he released the arrow.

It was a blur.

When the thud was heard, an arrow could be seen piercing the knight's throat.

It was with amazing speed and calmness.

Completely unable to respond, the knight's body spasmed and lurched to the side, falling to the ground with a thump.

Having lost its rider, the horse let out a high-pitched neigh, and before Tigre could even walk over to it, it had galloped away into the distance.

"I give up... things aren't going my way at all."

He sighed. If he had a horse, he could have escaped from the battlefield with ease.

Trudging forward, Tigre resumed his journey on foot. But it was not even ten steps before he came to a stop again.

"Are they enemies?"

Three hundred alcin (approximately three hundred meters) ahead, he could see a group of knights. If they spotted him, he would be chased down immediately.

"... There's seven of them."

Tigre was born with a pair of good eyes. Those eyes of his had been further trained by hunting, to the point that even at three hundred alcin, he could distinguish the facial features of a person.

He ascertained the contents of his quiver. There were only four arrows left.

Though he had confidence in his skill with the bow, he probably could not take down two men with a single arrow. If all of them charged him like that knight did earlier, there was nothing he could do.

―― Let them be my allies.

While praying that, Tigre observed the knights. When he saw the face of the leading knight, his eyes widened in shock.

"The Vanadis...."

When the Zhcted forces had launched the surprise attack, she was the one who was leading the attack at the front.

Tigre was so charmed by her that he forgot to draw breath.

A young maiden of the same age as him. Her silver hair reached down to her waist, uncovered by armour and shimmering in the rays of sunlight. In those crimson eyes there was radiance and dignity.

Those arms of hers were slender, fitting of a girl her age, yet it inexplicably seemed suited for the longsword that she grasped in her hand.

―― Lord Mashas had once said that she possessed a beauty unmatched by all but a few.

It was just as he had said. To judge that beauty based on normality, was out of the question. The more he looked at her, the more he had to agree with that statement.

Finally, Tigre snapped back to his senses. He shook his head, shaking off his idle thoughts, and calmly focused his sight upon the Vanadis' group.

The other knights were her escort, it seemed. As though protecting her, they moved their horses forward.

―― If he slew the Vanadis....

There was no reversing of the overwhelming defeat suffered by his side. Right now, they should be chasing down the fleeing Brune army in a large-scale pursuit battle.

"...But, should I strike her down, the pursuit battle would have to cease."

If Mashas, Bertrand and the other soldiers that came from Alsace had survived, then it would be a great increase to the likelihood of them making it out alive.

Fighting spirit welled up inside him. The hand that grasped his bow was filled with strength.

"I'll do it."

Tigre drew an arrow, and nocked it.

"O Eris, goddess of wind and storm..."

The creaking sound of the tightening, tense bowstring filled his eardrums.

On this continent, the maximum range for the bow was two hundred and fifty alcin (approximately two hundred and fifty meters).

This number merely represented how far the arrow could fly, a calculated distance.

If one wished to inflict bodily harm upon the target, the distance would be far less than that.

The Vanadis was still, as of that moment, about three hundred alcin (approximately three hundred metres) away from him.

Even so, Tigre still released the arrow.

The arrow tore through the wind, and embedded itself in the head of a horse being ridden by a knight next to the Vanadis.

As the horse collapsed onto the ground, bringing the knight down along with it, Tigre let loose a second arrow.

That arrow pierced the area between a knight's brows.

"Alright."

At last, as two of the escorts were down, a path was cleared.

A path to the silver-haired, crimson-eyed Vanadis. An opening for an arrow to reach her, was created.

"The real thing starts from here."

Tigre extended his hand into his quiver, and his breath grew heavy, and hot.

Even when in the depths of the mountain where sunlight did not reach, facing off against {{Furigana|Earth Dragons|Slō}} which were over forty chet (approximately four metres) long, he did not experience nervousness as he did now.

―― Assuming the other knights wanted to protect her, they were hindered by the fallen horse and knights. To get around them would take some time.

Although that time was a rather short time, indeed.

But to Tigre, it was enough.

―― In this situation, what actions she could undertake, is to either lie face-down on the horse, or get off the horse entirely, either one of the two.

On both her left and right were escorts, hence she could not move in those directions. There was a route to her back, but only for a few steps; it was not a viable route of evasive action. And at her front were her fallen subordinates and a horse. It would be difficult to cross over them without a running long jump, and horses disliked that.

Even if this Vanadis had managed that, from the start of the jump till the landing, there would surely be a small interval of opening.

And then Tigre, who had once again been focusing his gaze on the Vanadis, was assailed by an intense chill.

The Vanadis was smiling.

She was clearly looking at him. And in excitement.

"Kuh."

Tigre grit his teeth. Evidently, she was not taking him seriously. He drew the remaining two arrows from his quiver. One he bit on with his teeth, the other he nocked onto his bow.

But what happened at that moment was an unbelievable sight.

The horse the Vanadis rode on, gently soared into the air.

Far above the fallen subordinates.

That height, was probably twenty chet (around two metres).

It seemed to Tigre that the horse had almost grew a pair of wings and flew. It was not a 'jump', but closer to 'flight'.

"What was that, earlier... ?"

Fear and dread wracked Tigre's body. He almost thought his eyes were deceiving him.

A horse that carried a rider, it should not have been able to jump a height of twenty chet without a running start.

[[Image:Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis_Volume_01_-_040.jpg|175px|thumb]]

Yet the Vanadis had, with a calmness as though nothing ever happened, galloped in his direction.

―― Do not fear... !

He rebuked himself. ''I had merely been seeing things.''

Scowling at her, Tigre released the third arrow.

Riding upon the wind, the arrow travelled through the air. Just as it was about to hit dead centre on her forehead ―― it was struck down by a flash of silver.

"... No way?"

Tigre's eyes widened with his jaws agape.

She had struck down an arrow that came flying from over a hundred alcin at high speed with her sword.

Feats of that degree, came only from the likes of ''chanson de geste'', legends of braves and heroes. It was not something normal humans were capable of.

He nocked the last arrow.

He had absolute confidence in his bow. To say nothing of the fact that the opponent was charging straight towards him, and the distance of three hundred alcin had almost been closed.

―― It's impossible to miss.

He aimed the arrow straight at her forehead, like earlier ―― but was in the same manner, deflected.

During this interval, the horse spurred on by the Vanadis did not even slow for a moment, and approached him as fiercely as before. In about ten seconds, they would reach him.

"Is this the end?"

He had used up all his arrows, and had no other weapons. Escaping from a horse on foot was also not possible.

Grasping his bow tightly, Tigre stood up, gathering strength in his legs. He did not want to look too unsightly.

The Vanadis came before Tigre, and stopped her horse.

The young girl's silver hair was neither dirtied by blood nor sand.

She had white skin, that made him recall of the perpetual snow that piled up at the mountains of his hometown.

A refined appearance, with a well-featured nose and moist, bewitching lips that gave one the impression of a top-grade sculpture. However, the crimson eyes overflowing with vitality reminded one that she was a flesh-and-blood human.

She thrust the tip of the longsword at Tigre.

"Throw aside your bow."

He had no choice but to do as told. Nodding her head as though satisfied, the Vanadis said with a smile.

"You have good skill."

Tigre only realised after a while that she had been referring to him.

―― I'm being complimented...? Even though I'm someone who had been aiming his arrows at her only just earlier?

More than being pleased, he felt bewildered.

"I am Eleonora Viltaria. And you are?"

"Tigrevurmud Vorn."

"Are you a noble? Of what rank?"

Within the various countries included in the Kingdoms of Brune and Zhcted, those that bore surnames were of nobility. Besides a few exceptions, those who were not of nobility had no surname.

Tigre answered that he was an Earl, and her smile widened.

"Very well, Earl Vorn."

While sheathing her longsword into the scabbard at her waist, Eleonora cheerfully told him.

"From now on, you belong to me, as my prisoner of war."

While he was dumbfounded by those unexpected words, her escorts had finally caught up.

They surrounded Tigre fully, pointing their swords and spears at him, but when Eleonora waved her hand, they withdrew their weapons with a seemingly surprised look.

"Rim, let him ride behind you. He's a captive of mine. I don't mind if you rough him up a bit, but don't seriously wound him."

The knight named Rim nodded in silence. Because the knight's entire head was covered by a helmet, Tigre could not see their reaction.

"Quickly get on."

Looking down at Tigre, Rim spoke in a low voice from within the helmet. Tigre quickly realised why he felt that Rim's voice towards him bore a degree of anger.

Rim was the knight whose horse he had slain earlier.

―― Was the horse borrowed from the other knights? Even amongst the other escorts, this person ought to be a step above them.

"Is it alright if I take my bow as well?"

Tigre asked, pointing at the bow he had thrown aside onto the ground earlier.

"It's important to me."

He pointed out his lack of hostility by showing his empty quiver. Rim extended a hand out towards him, from on top the horse.

"Fine by me. However, I'll be holding on to it."

Tigre handed his bow over to Rim, and got up onto the rear of the horse. He then placed his hands on Rim's waist.

Suddenly Rim's neck bent backwards. The back of the helmet struck Tigre in the face, hard.

"What're you doing!"

Suppressing his reddening nose, Tigre protested. Eleonora laughed, her shoulders trembling.

"Rim, for the time being, he's my captive. Be a little more gentle to him."

"...I hear and obey."

Though the voice was clearly oozing with dissatisfaction, Rim obeyed anyway.

"If you dare to do something weird, I'll immediately throw you off the horse, and trample you to death."

Tigre sighed. Partly due to Rim's tremendous anger towards him, and also due to his own uncertainty about his future prospects.

Turning towards the knights, Eleonora proclaimed exultantly.

"Though a dull battle it had been, but I was able to enjoy myself at the end. ―― Well then, let us withdraw."

The Battle at the Plains of Dinant, had ended with the one-sided victory of the Kingdom of Zhcted.

Less than a hundred deaths were suffered by Zhcted, while Brune had a deathcount of over five thousand in the war, with the injured more than twice as many as the deaths.

But the losses was not limited to just that. Brune concealed something, a fact that would be hard to conceal no matter how hard they tried.

That was the death in battle of the supreme commander, the next-in-line to become King, Prince Legunas.

==Translator's Notes and References==
<references/>

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| Back to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume01_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume01_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
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</noinclude>

Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume01 Chapter1

2017-02-25T11:00:03Z

An Orange Peon: Various corrections to grammar, syntax, spelling, names, and general flow of the sentence structure.

=== Chapter 1 - Encounter with the Vanadis ===

"Tigre-sama."

The voice of a girl that he had grown used to hearing reached his ears, and he felt his body being shaken. Because of the bright light shining through the window, he knew that morning had come. However, he was still sleepy.

"A little longer... just a little longer."

"How long is 'a little longer,' may I ask?"

"There aren't any plans to go hunting today, so until noon..."

"Cut it out and please wake up!" the girl roared out loud.

He was stripped of his blanket, his shoulders were grabbed, and he was woken up violently.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that the bright red face of the girl, boiling with anger, was in close proximity.

She had a child-like face, which had no intimidating power even when she was angry. Her chestnut-colored hair was tied in twin tails. Her small body was dressed in a uniform with black long sleeves, a black skirt that reached down to her feet, and also a white apron that gave off a feeling of cleanliness.

"Ah... morning, Titta."

[[Image:Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis_Volume_01_-_012.jpg|175px|thumb]]

With a slow, drowsy voice, Tigre called out the name of the maidservant. Seeing that he seemed to be awake at last, Titta released her hand.

"The soldiers have already finished their preparations a long time ago, and are all waiting for Tigre-sama!"

Tigre was confused, and thought about what she had just said.

The blood rushed from his face immediately as the realization sank in.

"Oh crap!"

As though rolling out of his bed, he got up, and Titta held out a set of folded clothes for him. Beside her feet was a small pail, filled with water.

"Thank you. You're well prepared, as always."

"That is because I expected this to happen. I will go and prepare breakfast, so please wash your face and get changed in the mean time."

With the anger gone from her face, Titta gave a cheerful smile and bowed, pulling the hem of her skirt slightly upwards in a curtsy, and left the room gracefully.

Tigre washed his face, the cool and refreshing feeling cleansed the lingering drowsiness from him. He dashed out of the room while putting on his clothes, buttoning them up as he ran down the corridor.

"Though I don't have any time left... I still can't slack off."

He originally intended to go straight for the dining room, but instead he headed towards the small room at the end of the corridor.

This was a room small enough that three adults would be unable to sit down inside together at once. Standing at the opposite end of the room to the entrance was an exquisitely decorated rack, and on it was a bow. The bowstring was drawn firm and taut, and it seemed like it was ready to be used at any time. If one were to describe the bow in a single word, it would be "black." The handle, the bowstring -- the entire bow was pure black, without luster or shine. It would not be unbelievable to say that this bow was cut and made from darkness.

―― The mere sight of it gave off an oppressive feeling...

That mysterious bow was a family heirloom of the Vorn family, and was said to have been used by their hunter ancestors.

Tigre's father had left behind a last request regarding the bow.

''"Use this bow only when you are truly in need of it. Do not use it under any other circumstance."''

After hearing his father's will, Tigre had felt an indescribably eerie feeling from the bow, and decided not to touch it.

Tigre stood up straight, regulated his breathing, placed his clenched fist against his chest, and moved it horizontally. Then he bowed for his ancestors. After finishing this action, he quietly left the room and headed to the dining room.

Tigrevurmud Vorn was sixteen this year. He had been born in an earl's house in the Kingdom of Brune, and had succeeded the family name after his father had passed away due to an illness. His name had been passed down by his ancestors who had obtained the position of an earl. But because it was such a mouthful, he himself found it to be too long and troublesome to call, he asked those close to him to address him as "Tigre."

Tigre stepped into the dining room, and smelled a delicious aroma.

There was ham wrapped in fried egg, rye bread, milk, mushroom soup and others, all hot enough for a faint vapor to waft from them, set on a simple dining table. Titta stood on standby beside beside the table.

"Just the soup will do," said Tigre.

"That won't do," Titta replied. When it came to food, she was extremely stubborn. "Do you want your stomach to growl in front of everyone? It would be unsightly."

Titta placed her hands on her hips and glared directly at Tigre. It was an intense look, very unlike a maidservant. It was far more frightening than when she had woken him up. Tigre knew well that he could not win this argument, so he gave in readily.

After washing the bread down with milk, he grabbed the plate and gobbled down the fried egg and finished the soup in great gulps.

"Thank you for the meal," he said as he stood up. Titta immediately walked up to him, a comb and napkin in her hands.

"There is still a little bit left on your mouth. Please wipe it properly." She spoke as though she was a little angry, as she wiped his mouth clean with the napkin for him. "You have some bed-hair as well." She reached up with the hand that held the comb and thoroughly brushed Tigre's hair. "Look, even your collar's crooked." She placed the comb and napkin down on the table and arranged his collar neatly. Tigre quietly accepted this all the while.

" ―― Tigre-sama."

"What is it?"

Titta's voice had suddenly lost its strictness, becoming rather feminine. She called out to Tigre gently. He had always thought of her as his younger sister.

"Why does Tigre-sama have to go out and do battle?"

Tigre's expression became a little troubled. He ran his hand through his dark red hair. There were times when Titta would ask these kinds of difficult questions, and he would find himself at a loss trying to come up with an answer.

"It's because of His Majesty's military draft," Tigre replied. "It is only natural that the house of Earl Vorn do its part for the Kingdom of Brune."

"B-but..." Titta looked up at Tigre with teary eyes, and she argued back vehemently," It wasn't easy for us to muster even a hundred soldiers..."

There were many different types of nobles. Among them, Tigre's house, while not "poor," could be described as "simple." Other similar adjectives would not be far off the mark as well. Such was the state of the noble family of Vorn.

The territory House Vorn ruled was called Alsace, and was situated in the countryside, far from the central areas of the kingdom. Not only was it a small piece of land, but it was also dominated by forests and mountains, and thus there was little to reap profits from. Even Tigre's lifestyle was far from what one might expect from a noble. It lacked in both luxury and grandeur. The house that he lived in was not large. The fact that Titta alone could manage all of the domestic chores in the house was proof of that.

"Furthermore," Titta continued, "I've heard that the enemy is the Kingdom of Zhcted. If that's the case, shouldn't Tigre-sama stay here? After all, Zhcted and Alsace are only separated by a mountain."

"That may be so, but this is a place that's as rural as it gets. Not even Zhcted would think of invading here."

To Tigre, the fact that Alsace would not be turned into a battlefield was a good thing.

"W-what's more... don't they always make a fool out of Tigre-sama for your archery?"

"It is impossible to leave behind a ''chanson de geste''<ref>[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chanson_de_geste Chanson de geste] "songs of heroic deeds" are epic poems in Old French, often regarding military prowess or legendary battles.</ref> with the bow."

"It's fine even without a ''chanson de geste!''" Titta insisted loudly, before burying her face into Tigre's chest. "I only... wish that you do not push yourself too hard, and that no injuries should befall you. And please return in good health."

The slender body of the maidservant embraced Tigre lightly.

"Don't worry too much," he said. "Didn't I return unharmed from my first battle two years ago?"

"That time, Urs-sama was..."

Titta's voice trailed off halfway. Urs was Tigre's late father.

In order to ease Titta's heart, Tigre patted her lightly on the head.

"In this battle, my unit will be located behind the main forces," he said. "It's a safe place to be. And no matter what happens, I'll think of something."

Tigre brought his hand up to wipe the tears from the corner of Titta's eyes.

"I understand," she nodded. Then she said, "L-listen well, Tigre-sama. Please don't oversleep on the battlefield."

"The way you say it makes it sound like I'm always oversleeping."

"It's true," Titta rebutted. "Isn't the only time that Tigre-sama wakes up on time is when you go hunting?"

Despite her words, Tigre knew that Titta was cheering for him with all her heart. Tigre hugged her again, while Titta relaxed her body and let Tigre hold her. He could feel the warmth of her body even through her clothes, and her chestnut hair gave off a faint fragrance. Although he would have liked to stay like this for a little while longer, he did not have time. Tigre reluctantly released her.

"I'm counting on you to watch the house, Titta."

Titta wiped her tears away with her sleeve and said, smiling:

"Please leave it to me, Tigre-sama. Take care of yourself too."

As Tigre walked out of the front door while hefting his bow and quiver on his back, he saw that the soldiers were already in formation waiting for him. A short old man wearing leather armor walked up to him and bowed his head.

"Young master, everyone has been assembled. The preparations are also complete."

"Well done, Bertrand."

This old man was Tigre's aide. Compared with the young Tigre, he had far more experience in battle, and within this unit, he was the only person besides Tigre who was trained in equestrianism.

As for the rest, they were all leather-armour wearing soldiers with swords hung on their hips and wielding spears.

"I sure have gathered a fair number."

Tigre heaved a sigh, and some of the more experienced soldiers half-jokingly said,

"Milord, there's naught to be worried about. Though we've not fought in a war for three years, we've spent our days working with the plough, and as such our bodies have grown tough, aye."

"Going against His Majesty's command, would be like disobeying the ol' missus, no? Then we are left no choice, but to obey."

"Your words are much appreciated. Why don't we simply bring your wife along as well? A few angry roars from her would be able to scare off even a thousand or two of the enemy soldiers, eh?"

The soldiers laughed uproariously.

"It would be best to give up on that, young master. This man's missus differentiates not between friend or foe!"

Bertrand had interjected with banter of his own, and Tigre ended this conversation with a shrug of his shoulders.

―― It looked like morale was not going to be a problem.

After waiting for their laughter to subside, Tigre saluted. Then, he mounted the horse that Bertrand had brought over, and raised his right hand up in the air, and gave a command.

"Our destination is the Plains of Dinant. En-route, we will be joining up with Lord Mashas'<ref>Pronounced as Mah-ss-ha-ss</ref> forces."

The soldiers raised the war flags up high.

They carried two different flags. One had a blue base with a white half-moon and shooting star, the war flag of House Vorn. The other was of Bayarl ―― a sacred horse with a black mane and crimson body, the symbol of the Kingdom of Brune.

"With that, let us move out!"

The Kingdom of Brune, with the Kingdom of Zhcted located at its east, have had their swords at each other's throats for over twenty years.

The reason for the conflict this time, was due to the flooding of the river that served as the border of the two countries, caused by torrential rain.

Firstly, the victims of the flood were quick to point fingers at the other country, saying 'tis all because those fellows from yonder haven't been doing their job with the river', which served as the sparks that started the fire.

Next, both countries that were petitioned to by the victims, maintained the stance that 'there are problems with their flood control solutions', which fanned the flames of hostility even more, and finally resulting in a full-scale conflict.

If it were just that, Tigre should not have been summoned to the battlefield.

"The enemy forces number roughly five thousand, but our own forces number over twenty five thousand. 'Tis pleasant news, truly."

The one who spoke with sarcasm in his voice, beside Tigre, was a knight that was already past middle-age, Mashas Rodant.

Mashas was a friend of Tigre's father, and had often taken care of Tigre, his benefactor.

"They say it's because His Royal Highness is riding into battle for the first time, have you heard of that?"

Tigre asked, while riding next to Mashas.

"'Tis likely to be true. His Majesty does dote on him, after all."

His portly body equipped with iron armour and helmet, Mashas stroked his mustache in displeasure.

"The conflict this time round, is almost like a squabble between children, resulting in their parents having to step in, it is not something that would drastically alter the country's future. Based on the meaning of that, for His Highness ―― Prince Legunas, we are merely decorations in his first battle...to be precise, this is for him to gain some experience."

For his beloved son's first battle, the King must have wanted him to win a glorious victory.

The King had sent out all of the knights directly under him, and the nobles that lived near the Plains of Dinant which was soon to become a battlefield too, had received the call to war.

Even minor nobles like Tigre and Mashas.

Those assembled numbered over twenty five thousand.

The forces commanded by Mashas were about three hundred men strong. Within that, there were about fifty knights.

Though the numbers were not small, compared to the entire twenty five thousand strong army, they were but a drop in the ocean, and the same went for Tigre, which was the reason the both of them had been assigned to the rear end of the formation.

"The odds favour those who gather the greater army ―― 'tis but the basics of war. One day, Prince Legunas will succeed the throne. His Majesty was not wrong to do so, was he?"

Tigre patted the old knight on the shoulder in consolation.

Those words that he had said were rhetorics. If he did not say it out loud, perhaps he might have lost his will to fight.

"No doubt about it, we are but minor nobility, we only have to obediently wait at the back. If everyone bears the same mindset that this would be an assured victory, and lunge headfirst into battle for glory... that reminds me, Tigre, have you heard of the Princesses of War?"

He asked as though he had suddenly recalled something, and Tigre tilted his head.

"The Seven Vanadis of Zhcted, you mean?"

"Yes, that's the one alright. It seems that the enemy forces are being lead by one of the Vanadis. Though only sixteen years old, she has been undefeated, attaining victory after victory. An excellent swordswoman, she stands at the forefront of battle, cutting down all before her, known and feared as the [{{Furigana|Danseuse of the Sword|Meltis}}], or the [{{Furigana|Wind Princess of the Silverflash|Silvfrahl}}]."

The Kingdom of Zhcted was ruled by a King, and the Seven Vanadis.

―― The same age as me, huh.

Tigre had an inexplicable feeling, about this yet unmet enemy general. Though they were the same age, and she was even a female, she had far more battle experience and had performed many heroic feats, and commanded a five thousand strong army.

In the Kingdom of Brune that Tigre was born in, women were not allowed to become knights, except those born of high nobility.

So far in this war, Tigre had not even seen a single female knight.

Because of that reason, he felt excited.

"What name does she go by, this Vanadis?"

"If my memory doesn't fail me, she's called Eleonora Viltaria. The rumours say that she's a real beauty. If one were to place a precious gemstone next to her, it would pale in comparison."

"Is she really that beautiful?"

"It's great that you're excited hearing about beauties, but remember to keep it in moderation. Otherwise, Titta'll get jealous."

Mashas' grey mustache trembled with his laughter, and Tigre replied sullenly.

"Why did Titta's name suddenly get mentioned? She's only like a sister ―― "

"Ever since you were kids, people have said that the pair of you were like a lazy older brother and a capable younger sister."

Even though he put it that way, Tigre could not make a rebuttal. Scratching his dark red hair, he changed the topic.

"If the Vanadis is truly that great a general as the rumours say, then we're in for a hard battle, aren't we?"

"That may be so, but the difference in military strength is simply too great. Even with a specialist of war leading them, they probably wouldn't be able to overcome that disparity."

No matter how hard the Vanadis fought, they would not be able to make up for the overwhelming difference in numbers, five times to be exact.

Tigre would have liked to voice out his agreement, but for some reason he could not do so.

He had an ominous, foreboding feeling. At the region around the back of his neck, he felt a sensation as though being burned.

This was not the first time he had experienced this kind of feeling.

Like those times when he was out hunting, and was surrounded by wolves due to carelessness ―― or when he ran into dragons while in the mountains.

Or when he had woken up in the morning, and was sporting some major morning wood, and Titta had came to wake up him like she always did.

In any case, when he had this kind of feeling, something bad was about to happen.

"You don't seem too overjoyed."

He had been wearing his true feelings on his face, it seemed, and Mashas looked over in concern.

"Are you worried about something? You don't seem like your usual carefree self."

"What carefree self... aren't there other ways to describe me, like imperturbable?"

Tigre said unhappily, to which Mashas smiled.

"It's fine even if you try to brush it off with difficult vocabulary. As for me, I remember that day as though it were just yesterday. Two years ago, when you had succeeded Urs."

"I, did I say something then?"

"When the representatives of those villages and towns had asked you how to manage Alsace, didn't you answer them with a 'well, it'll work out somehow'? If that isn't carefree, what is?"

Tigre did not reply, only shrugged his shoulders.

However, Mashas did not stop there.

"When Urs was still with us, he had always praised you as someone who was 'calm and steadfast, though a little optimistic. He does make good judgments, and also has a strong body'. Those were exactly the words of a father favouring his son, weren't they."

"Even if you say that, I do have confidence in my way of doing things."

Only after Mashas had finished speaking, did Tigre answer.

It was the truth that no major problems had occurred in Alsace.

Though slowly, their assets had been growing steadily. Those representatives who had been stunned at his casual statement then got along pretty well with him after that.

"Besides those days where you go hunting, are you able to wake up on your own? Without Titta's help, of course."

"... No, about that...."

"I've heard from Titta that...if you had two or three days off, you would grab your bow and quiver and head off into the forests or mountains to hunt."

Tigre's shoulder sagged in his silence, he could not refute that fact.

"Forget I ever said anything. It's good enough that you are performing your duties as a governor. That you can tell just by seeing their faces."

Mashas looked over his shoulders, back at the soldiers.

Their fighting spirits were low due to being deployed at the rear, but not a single person had voiced his unhappiness or anger over it.

"Tigre, our job is to bring these men back home safely. Not thinking how to win this battle. I'm not sure what you're thinking about, but don't worry too much about it."

"Thank you for your concern."

Tigre expressed his gratitude for Mashas' concern.

It was as he had said, there was no point thinking too much about it.

It was frustrating, but they were only called to the battlefield as decorations for the Royal Prince.

No one had expected them to contribute to the battle, nor did Tigre or Mashas expect anyone to make use of their forces.

A few days later, Tigre and company had arrived at Dinant.

The twenty thousand strong main force, the vanguard were lined up at the foot of the hill. The rearguard that was commanded by Prince Legunas, five thousand strong, were on standby at the top of the hill. Naturally, Tigre and Mashas were part of the rearguard.

Just from these facts, the odds of them having to enter the fray were miniscule.

<big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big>

The time was before daybreak. Under the dark sky, a thousand soldiers were advancing in silence.

They dulled the metallic parts of their swords and spears with mud to stop the reflection from giving them away, made their horses bite on boards, and wrapped their hooves with cotton cloth. Extreme measures of caution.

In that manner, they were undiscovered by the enemy, and arrived at the side of the hill.

If they climbed its gentle slopes, they would be able to see the enemy forces ―― the rearguard of the Brune army had night sentries, after all. The flames of the campfire flickered, burning.

" ―― Let us rest. Begin the preparations."

The silver-haired girl who was at the forefront, leading all of these knights, lightly smiled. The soldiers did as she bidded and started to rest, and retrieved the boards and cloth from their horses.

Before long, the scouts that they had sent out earlier had returned.

Hearing from the scouts that the enemies were sound asleep and did not notice their movements, the girl turned around and faced the knights. Drawing the longsword at her waist, she raised it high in the air, as a light wind blew.

"The enemies right before our eyes number five thousand, five times our number. A rearguard it may be, but if that is where the supreme commander is positioned, then it would be reasonable to assume the presence of many elites."

However, the girl's crimson eyes were filled with fighting spirit, and she continued.

"Even so, I will go. And thus, achieve victory. Will you follow me?"

The knights silently raised their arms, pointing their swords and spears toward the sky.

The girl turned her head in the direction of the enemy, driving her horse forward, and brought down her longsword in an arc.

"Assault, begin!"

Their war flags billowed in the wind. The shape of Zirnitra ―― a pitch-black dragon, the symbol of the Kingdom of Zhcted, adorned the war flags.

The rush of the air as they advanced. In the knights' hands were swords and spears, otherwise bows, and they followed the girl's lead, galloping on their horses towards the hilltop.

The soldiers on sentry duty had finally noticed the enemy assault, hearing the sounds of hooves striking ground, as if the earth was crying out.

"The enemy ―― "

The girl, with a flash of her sword, changed what escaped from the soldier's throat from a warning cry to a fountain of spurting blood.

Against the background of the gradually brightening sky, the girl led a force of a thousand men directly into the enemy camp, causing wanton destruction. The army of Brune had fallen into chaos. There were even soldiers who threw down their weapons, fleeing for their lives.

Although there were soldiers who had bravely tried to mount a resistance, the difference in the impetus of their assault were too different.

Above all, the valiant girl who led the forces of Zhcted. With her longsword she stood at the frontlines of battle, and was overwhelming in her strength.

With just one assault, hordes of enemy soldiers had been slain, or crushed beneath the hooves of horses. Even so, not a single drop of blood stained her body.

Each time her longsword had caused the wind to howl, the bodies that littered the ground increased.

Her silvery-white hair swaying with the wind, the girl had attacked the enemy camp in this fashion, with the horde of knights that had followed her lead.

At this point in time, victory and defeat looked certain, for the respective sides.

<big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big>

His ears were ringing.

Screams, shrieks, death cries, hooves clacking on the ground and the sound of weapons clashing against each other filled his ears.

"...Ugh"

He woke up.

Spread out wide before his eyes was the blue sky that seemed like it would suck one in, in its vastness.

Pushing away the weight that was resting upon his body, Tigre got up.

When the ringing in his ears was gone, he could hear the sound of the wind and faint fading moans. The rustling of the pieces of the broken war flags and the trampled grass could also be heard.

Dust creeped along the ground in the wind, and the smell of blood reached his nose.

"Did I lose consciousness.... "

Tottering, he rose on his feet, and what greeted him was the sight of corpses as far as the eyes could see, a hill of death.

The grass was stained with blood, and the land was buried with hundreds, or even thousands of corpses, scattered about. A wave of nausea came over him, and he covered his mouth with his hand. He felt a moist sensation, and he saw that his hand was dyed red.

―― Blood...?

He checked his face and his entire head, but it seemed he was not wounded.

"Somebody else's blood, huh."

It seemed that Tigre had somehow been buried underneath a few corpses. Because of that, he had managed to escape the eyes of the enemy.

"Bertrand! Lord Mashas!"

He called out the names of his aide and the old knight he was close with, but there were no replies.

He tried calling out the names of the soldiers that were under him, but as expected, there were no responses.

"If they got away, then it's fine, I suppose."

Wherever he looked, there were only corpses. Amongst the corpses, were scattered swords, broken spears, and the remnants of ruined flags.

Vision was limited by the morning fog that obscured the far distance, but, nothing moved in his field of vision. No allies, nor enemies.

Anger and hatred for the enemy did not gush out from within him. More than that, he was dragged down by the weight of fatigue and tiredness, and he sighed.

"A terrible battle it was..."

Roughly around dawn, a surprise attack had been launched against the Brune army. In the ensuing mayhem, their vanguard came under attack as well, and with that came the downfall of the army of twenty five thousand.

―― Yesterday, before midnight, our army had confirmed that the enemy forces were directly in front of us. In other words, Zhcted had split their army into two. A two-pronged assault on both the rearguard and the vanguard.

Tigre had felt the chills run down his spine.

The plan was simple. Even a child could have come up with it.

―― What was fearsome was, their calm execution of the plan, against forces five times their number.

They had fewer soldiers, and on top of that, split their forces. A small mistake, and their entire force would have been crushed. The soldiers must have been against it, to no small degree.

―― However, it had been a splendid success.

The Brune army had been routed.

Washed away with the stampede of fleeing allies, Tigre had been unable to take command of the soldiers. Falling from his horse, he had then fainted.

It seemed more like Tigre's unit had been done in by their own allies.

"Nevertheless...."

Tigre remembered. The one who stood at the front of the enemy forces, her longsword flashing, the silver-haired girl who cut down the Brune soldiers one by one without pause ―― he had only caught a short glimpse of her.

"Was that the Vanadis?"

The Princess of War, also known as the Vanadis, was always at the frontline of battle ―― that was what Mashas had said.

The inappropriate memory of her beauty surfaced in Tigre's mind. He ruffled his dark red hair, as though reflecting upon it.

Fortunately, his bow had fallen close by.

Picking it up, he plucked the bowstring while feeling a measure of uneasiness and anxiety.

"...It's working fine."

He was relieved. If the bow had been bent, the bowstring would slacken, rendering it useless.

There were still a few arrows left in his quiver.

He raised his head skywards, and calculated the directions based on the position of the sun.

"That way's west, eh."

From this battlefield, going west would lead one to Brune, and east, to Zhcted.

Enduring the pain coursing through his entire body, Tigre slowly walked towards the west. Noticing something moving within his field of vision, he stopped.

A lone knight on a horse was galloping towards him, sword brandished.

Tigre entered a stance with his bow, and drew a single arrow.

The knight's horse trampled on or leapt over the corpses lying all around, and drew closer to Tigre. When the distance between them had been shortened to thirty alcin (approximately thirty meters), the knight suddenly roared out.

"A survivor of the Brune army? I'll have your head!"

Tigre remained silent, nocking an arrow to his bow. Casually, he released the arrow.

It was a blur.

When the thud was heard, an arrow could be seen piercing the knight's throat.

It was with amazing speed and calmness.

Completely unable to respond, the knight's body spasmed and lurched to the side, falling to the ground with a thump.

Having lost its rider, the horse let out a high-pitched neigh, and before Tigre could even walk over to it, it had galloped away into the distance.

"I give up... things aren't going my way at all."

He sighed. If he had a horse, he could have escaped from the battlefield with ease.

Trudging forward, Tigre resumed his journey on foot. But it was not even ten steps before he came to a stop again.

"Are they enemies?"

Three hundred alcin (approximately three hundred meters) ahead, he could see a group of knights. If they spotted him, he would be chased down immediately.

"... There's seven of them."

Tigre was born with a pair of good eyes. Those eyes of his had been further trained by hunting, to the point that even at three hundred alcin, he could distinguish the facial features of a person.

He ascertained the contents of his quiver. There were only four arrows left.

Though he had confidence in his skill with the bow, he probably could not take down two men with a single arrow. If all of them charged him like that knight did earlier, there was nothing he could do.

―― Let them be my allies.

While praying that, Tigre observed the knights. When he saw the face of the leading knight, his eyes widened in shock.

"The Vanadis...."

When the Zhcted forces had launched the surprise attack, she was the one who was leading the attack at the front.

Tigre was so charmed by her that he forgot to draw breath.

A young maiden of the same age as him. Her silver hair reached down to her waist, uncovered by armour and shimmering in the rays of sunlight. In those crimson eyes there was radiance and dignity.

Those arms of hers were slender, fitting of a girl her age, yet it inexplicably seemed suited for the longsword that she grasped in her hand.

―― Lord Mashas had once said that she possessed a beauty unmatched by all but a few.

It was just as he had said. To judge that beauty based on normality, was out of the question. The more he looked at her, the more he had to agree with that statement.

Finally, Tigre snapped back to his senses. He shook his head, shaking off his idle thoughts, and calmly focused his sight upon the Vanadis' group.

The other knights were her escort, it seemed. As though protecting her, they moved their horses forward.

―― If he slew the Vanadis....

There was no reversing of the overwhelming defeat suffered by his side. Right now, they should be chasing down the fleeing Brune army in a large-scale pursuit battle.

"...But, should I strike her down, the pursuit battle would have to cease."

If Mashas, Bertrand and the other soldiers that came from Alsace had survived, then it would be a great increase to the likelihood of them making it out alive.

Fighting spirit welled up inside him. The hand that grasped his bow was filled with strength.

"I'll do it."

Tigre drew an arrow, and nocked it.

"O Eris, goddess of wind and storm..."

The creaking sound of the tightening, tense bowstring filled his eardrums.

On this continent, the maximum range for the bow was two hundred and fifty alcin (approximately two hundred and fifty meters).

This number merely represented how far the arrow could fly, a calculated distance.

If one wished to inflict bodily harm upon the target, the distance would be far less than that.

The Vanadis was still, as of that moment, about three hundred alcin (approximately three hundred metres) away from him.

Even so, Tigre still released the arrow.

The arrow tore through the wind, and embedded itself in the head of a horse being ridden by a knight next to the Vanadis.

As the horse collapsed onto the ground, bringing the knight down along with it, Tigre let loose a second arrow.

That arrow pierced the area between a knight's brows.

"Alright."

At last, as two of the escorts were down, a path was cleared.

A path to the silver-haired, crimson-eyed Vanadis. An opening for an arrow to reach her, was created.

"The real thing starts from here."

Tigre extended his hand into his quiver, and his breath grew heavy, and hot.

Even when in the depths of the mountain where sunlight did not reach, facing off against {{Furigana|Earth Dragons|Slō}} which were over forty chet (approximately four metres) long, he did not experience nervousness as he did now.

―― Assuming the other knights wanted to protect her, they were hindered by the fallen horse and knights. To get around them would take some time.

Although that time was a rather short time, indeed.

But to Tigre, it was enough.

―― In this situation, what actions she could undertake, is to either lie face-down on the horse, or get off the horse entirely, either one of the two.

On both her left and right were escorts, hence she could not move in those directions. There was a route to her back, but only for a few steps; it was not a viable route of evasive action. And at her front were her fallen subordinates and a horse. It would be difficult to cross over them without a running long jump, and horses disliked that.

Even if this Vanadis had managed that, from the start of the jump till the landing, there would surely be a small interval of opening.

And then Tigre, who had once again been focusing his gaze on the Vanadis, was assailed by an intense chill.

The Vanadis was smiling.

She was clearly looking at him. And in excitement.

"Kuh."

Tigre grit his teeth. Evidently, she was not taking him seriously. He drew the remaining two arrows from his quiver. One he bit on with his teeth, the other he nocked onto his bow.

But what happened at that moment was an unbelievable sight.

The horse the Vanadis rode on, gently soared into the air.

Far above the fallen subordinates.

That height, was probably twenty chet (around two metres).

It seemed to Tigre that the horse had almost grew a pair of wings and flew. It was not a 'jump', but closer to 'flight'.

"What was that, earlier... ?"

Fear and dread wracked Tigre's body. He almost thought his eyes were deceiving him.

A horse that carried a rider, it should not have been able to jump a height of twenty chet without a running start.

[[Image:Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis_Volume_01_-_040.jpg|175px|thumb]]

Yet the Vanadis had, with a calmness as though nothing ever happened, galloped in his direction.

―― Do not fear... !

He rebuked himself. ''I had merely been seeing things.''

Scowling at her, Tigre released the third arrow.

Riding upon the wind, the arrow travelled through the air. Just as it was about to hit dead centre on her forehead ―― it was struck down by a flash of silver.

"... No way?"

Tigre's eyes widened with his jaws agape.

She had struck down an arrow that came flying from over a hundred alcin at high speed with her sword.

Feats of that degree, came only from the likes of ''chanson de geste'', legends of braves and heroes. It was not something normal humans were capable of.

He nocked the last arrow.

He had absolute confidence in his bow. To say nothing of the fact that the opponent was charging straight towards him, and the distance of three hundred alcin had almost been closed.

―― It's impossible to miss.

He aimed the arrow straight at her forehead, like earlier ―― but was in the same manner, deflected.

During this interval, the horse spurred on by the Vanadis did not even slow for a moment, and approached him as fiercely as before. In about ten seconds, they would reach him.

"Is this the end?"

He had used up all his arrows, and had no other weapons. Escaping from a horse on foot was also not possible.

Grasping his bow tightly, Tigre stood up, gathering strength in his legs. He did not want to look too unsightly.

The Vanadis came before Tigre, and stopped her horse.

The young girl's silver hair was neither dirtied by blood nor sand.

She had white skin, that made him recall of the perpetual snow that piled up at the mountains of his hometown.

A refined appearance, with a well-featured nose and moist, bewitching lips that gave one the impression of a top-grade sculpture. However, the crimson eyes overflowing with vitality reminded one that she was a flesh-and-blood human.

She thrust the tip of the longsword at Tigre.

"Throw aside your bow."

He had no choice but to do as told. Nodding her head as though satisfied, the Vanadis said with a smile.

"You have good skill."

Tigre only realised after a while that she had been referring to him.

―― I'm being complimented...? Even though I'm someone who had been aiming his arrows at her only just earlier?

More than being pleased, he felt bewildered.

"I am Eleonora Viltaria. And you are?"

"Tigrevurmud Vorn."

"Are you a noble? Of what rank?"

Within the various countries included in the Kingdoms of Brune and Zhcted, those that bore surnames were of nobility. Besides a few exceptions, those who were not of nobility had no surname.

Tigre answered that he was an Earl, and her smile widened.

"Very well, Earl Vorn."

While sheathing her longsword into the scabbard at her waist, Eleonora cheerfully told him.

"From now on, you belong to me, as my prisoner of war."

While he was dumbfounded by those unexpected words, her escorts had finally caught up.

They surrounded Tigre fully, pointing their swords and spears at him, but when Eleonora waved her hand, they withdrew their weapons with a seemingly surprised look.

"Rim, let him ride behind you. He's a captive of mine. I don't mind if you rough him up a bit, but don't seriously wound him."

The knight named Rim nodded in silence. Because the knight's entire head was covered by a helmet, Tigre could not see their reaction.

"Quickly get on."

Looking down at Tigre, Rim spoke in a low voice from within the helmet. Tigre quickly realised why he felt that Rim's voice towards him bore a degree of anger.

Rim was the knight whose horse he had slain earlier.

―― Was the horse borrowed from the other knights? Even amongst the other escorts, this person ought to be a step above them.

"Is it alright if I take my bow as well?"

Tigre asked, pointing at the bow he had thrown aside onto the ground earlier.

"It's important to me."

He pointed out his lack of hostility by showing his empty quiver. Rim extended a hand out towards him, from on top the horse.

"Fine by me. However, I'll be holding on to it."

Tigre handed his bow over to Rim, and got up onto the rear of the horse. He then placed his hands on Rim's waist.

Suddenly Rim's neck bent backwards. The back of the helmet struck Tigre in the face, hard.

"What're you doing!"

Suppressing his reddening nose, Tigre protested. Eleonora laughed, her shoulders trembling.

"Rim, for the time being, he's my captive. Be a little more gentle to him."

"...I hear and obey."

Though the voice was clearly oozing with dissatisfaction, Rim obeyed anyway.

"If you dare to do something weird, I'll immediately throw you off the horse, and trample you to death."

Tigre sighed. Partly due to Rim's tremendous anger towards him, and also due to his own uncertainty about his future prospects.

Turning towards the knights, Eleonora proclaimed exultantly.

"Though a dull battle it had been, but I was able to enjoy myself at the end. ―― Well then, let us withdraw."

The Battle at the Plains of Dinant, had ended with the one-sided victory of the Kingdom of Zhcted.

Less than a hundred deaths were suffered by Zhcted, while Brune had a deathcount of over five thousand in the war, with the injured more than twice as many as the deaths.

But the losses was not limited to just that. Brune concealed something, a fact that would be hard to conceal no matter how hard they tried.

That was the death in battle of the supreme commander, the next-in-line to become King, Prince Legunas.

==Translator's Notes and References==
<references/>

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| Return to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume01_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
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</noinclude>

Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume01 Prologue

2017-02-25T09:37:15Z

An Orange Peon:

The tip of the longsword was thrust forward.

The one wielding the sword was a beautiful girl with silver-colored hair that stretched all the way to her waist. She looked down at the youth from the top of her horse.

"Throw aside your bow."

The youth complied obediently, placing the bow that he held in his hands on the ground.

He did not feel like resisting. His arrows were already exhausted.

In their surroundings were countless corpses lying on the ground. Broken swords, spears that protruded from the ground like tombstones, and the wind that carried the thick smell of blood.

"I am Eleonora Viltaria. And you are?"

The girl's refreshing voice resounded, as if it were blowing away the smell of blood. She was dignified, and despite that she possessed a radiance in those curious crimson eyes.

The youth answered her question, mesmerized.

"... Tigrevurmud Vorn."

After asking him several questions, she sheathed her sword in the scabbard at her waist, satisfied.

And then she smiled sweetly at the youth.

"From now on, you belong to me."

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| Return to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume01_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
|-
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</noinclude>

Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume01 Chapter1

2017-02-24T21:01:11Z

An Orange Peon: /* Chapter 1 - Encounter with the Vanadis */

=== Chapter 1 - Encounter with the Vanadis ===

"Tigre-sama."

The voice of a girl that he had grown used to hearing reached his ears, and he felt his body being shaken.

Because of the bright light shining through the window, he knew that morning had come.

However, he was still sleepy.

"A little longer... just a little longer."

"How long is 'a little longer,' may I ask?"

"There aren't any plans to go hunting today, so until noon..."

"Cut it out and please wake up!"

The girl roared out loud.

He was stripped of his blanket, his shoulders were grabbed, and he was woken up violently.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that the bright red face of the girl, boiling with anger, was in close proximity.

She had a child-like face, which had no intimidating power even when she was angry. Her chestnut-coloured hair was tied in twin tails. Her small body was dressed in a uniform with black long sleeves, a black skirt that reached down to her feet, and also a white apron that gave off a feeling of cleanliness. That was what the maidservant looked like.

"Ah... Morning, Teita."

[[Image:Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis_Volume_01_-_012.jpg|175px|thumb]]

With a drowsy and slow voice, Tigre called out the name of the maidservant who was a year younger than him. Seeing that he seemed to be awake, Teita released her hand.

"The soldiers have already finished their preparations a long time ago, and are all waiting for Tigre-sama!"

Tigre was confused, and thought about what she had just said.

The blood rushed from his face immediately as the realisation sank in.

"...Oh crap!"

As though rolling out of his bed, he got up, and Teita held out a set of folded clothes to him. Beside her feet was a small pail, filled with water.

"Thank you. You're as well prepared as always."

"That is because I had expected this to happen. I will go and prepare breakfast, so please wash your face and get changed in the mean time."

With the anger gone from her face, Teita made a cheerful smile, bowed, pulling the hem of her skirt slightly upwards in a curtsey, and left the room gracefully.

Tigre washed his face, the cool and refreshing feeling cleansed the remaining drowsiness from him. While putting on his clothes, he dashed out from the room, buttoning them as he ran down the corridor.

"Though I don't have any time left... I still can't slack off."

He originally intended on going straight for the dining room, but instead he headed towards the small room at the end of the corridor.

This was a room small enough that three adults are unable to sit down inside together at once. Opposite the entrance was a exquisitely decorated rack, and on it, was a bow.

The bowstring was firm and taut, and it seemed like it was ready for use at any time.

If one were to describe that bow with one word, it would be 'black'.

The handle, the bowstring, the entire bow was pure black, with no luster or shine.

It would not be unbelievable if people were told that this bow was cut and made from darkness.

―― The mere sight of it gave off an oppressive feeling....

The bow with such a mysterious atmosphere, was a family heirloom of the Vorn family, said to have been used by their hunter ancestors.

Tigre's father had left behind a last request regarding the bow.

'Only when you are truly in need of this bow, may you use it. Not under any other circumstance.'

Upon hearing his father's will, Tigre felt an indescribable feeling of eeriness from it, and decided not to touch it.

Tigre stood up straight, regulated his breathing, placed his clenched fist against his chest, moving it horizontally. Then, he made a bow to his ancestors.

Finishing this action, he quietly left the room, and headed for the dining room.

Tigrevurmud Vorn was sixteen this year. Born in an Earl's House in the Kingdom of Brune, he had succeeded the family when his father had passed away due to illness.

The name which was quite a mouthful had been passed down by the ancestors who had obtained the position of an Earl. He himself had found it long and troublesome to call, hence he had asked those close to him to address him as 'Tigre'.

Tigre stepped into the dining room, where he smelled a delicious aroma.

On the simple dining table, there were ham wrapped in fried egg, rye bread, milk, mushroom soup and others, hot enough for a faint vapour to waft from them.

Teita was on stand-by at the side of the table.

"Just the soup will do."

"That won't do."

When it came to food, Teita was extremely stubborn.

"Do you want your stomach to be grumbling in front of everyone? It would be unsightly."

Her two hands placed on her hips, she glared directly at Tigre. It was a look full of intensity, very much unlike a maidservant. It was far scarier than when she was waking him up.

Tigre knew very well that he could not win this argument, hence he readily gave in.

Washing the bread down with milk, he then grabbed the plate and gobbled down the fried egg, and finished the soup in great gulps.

"Thank you for the meal."

He stood up as he said that. Teita immediately walked up to him, a comb and napkin in her hands.

"There's still a little bit left on your mouth, please wipe it properly."

Speaking as though she were a little angry, Teita wiped his mouth clean with the napkin.

"And, you've got some bed-hair too."

She extended the hand which held the comb, and thoroughly combed Tigre's red hair.

"Look, even your collar's crooked."

Placing the comb and napkin on the table, her outstretched hand arranged his collar neatly. Tigre quietly accepted it.

" ―― Tigre-sama."

"What is it?"

Suddenly, Teita's voice had lost it's strictness, becoming rather feminine, and she called out to Tigre gently. Tigre had always thought of her, who was a year younger, as his younger sister.

"Why does Tigre-sama have to go out and do battle?"

Tigre's expression became a little troubled, and he ran his hand through his dark red hair. At times, Teita would ask these kind of hard-to-answer questions, and he would be at a loss trying to come up with an answer.

"It's His Majesty's military draft. For the Kingdom of Brune, it is only natural for the House of Earl Vorn to take part."

"B-but..."

Looking up at Tigre with a teary-looking face, Teita argued vehemently.

"It wasn't easy for us to have even mustered up a hundred soldiers..."

Whether it was the nobility or Earls, there were many different types.

And, though House Vorn was not in a situation where they would be deemed 'poor', describing them as 'simple', or other similar adjectives would not be too far off from the mark, that was the noble family of Vorn.

This countryside, which was distant from the central area of the territory known as Alsace, besides being small, was also covered mainly with forests and mountains, hence there were not many things they could reap profits from.

Even Tigre's lifestyle was far off from what one might expect from the image of 'nobility', lacking in luxury and grandeur.

The house was not large to begin with, but just the mere fact that Teita could manage the domestic chores of the entire house alone, was enough to illustrate this point.

"Furthermore, I've heard that the enemy is the Kingdom of Zhcted. If that's the case, shouldn't Tigre-sama be staying here? After all, Zhcted and Alsace are only separated by a mountain."

"That may be so, but this is a place that's as rural as it gets. Even Zhcted won't think of invading here."

To Tigre, the fact that this place will not be turned into a battlefield, was a good thing.

"W-what's more... don't they always make a fool out of Tigre-sama's bow skills?"

"It's indeed impossible to leave behind a ''chanson de geste''<ref>[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chanson_de_geste Chanson de geste] "songs of heroic deeds" are epic poems in Old French, often regarding military prowess or legendary battles.</ref> with the bow, eh."

"It's fine even if there isn't a ''chanson de geste''!"

Insisting that with a loud voice, Teita then buried her head into Tigre's chest.

"I only... wish that you do not push yourself too hard, and that no injuries shall ever befall you, and please, return in good health."

The slender body of the maidservant hugged Tigre lightly, worrying for him.

"Don't worry too much. In my first battle two years ago, did I not return unharmed in the end?"

"That time, Ulus-sama was..."

Teita's voice trailed off halfway. Ulus was Tigre's father, who had passed away two years ago.

In order for Teita to be at ease of heart, Tigre lightly patted her on her head.

"In this battle ahead, my unit will be located at the rear of the main forces, a safe place to be. No matter what happens, I'll think of something."

Bringing his hand up, he wiped off the tears on the corner of Teita's eyes. With an 'I understand,' Teita nodded.

"L-listen well, Tigre-sama. Please don't oversleep on the battlefield, like you always do."

"The way you say it makes it seem like I'm always oversleeping."

"That is the truth. The only times that Tigre-sama would wake up on time is when there is hunting to be done, isn't it?"

To Tigre's astonished response, she rebutted.

Even so, he understood that Teita was cheering for him with all her heart, and once again, Tigre hugged her.

Teita relaxed her body, letting Tigre hold her.

The warmth of her body could be felt even through her clothes, and her chestnut-coloured hair gave off a faint fragrance.

Though he would have liked to continue like this a little longer, he did not have much time.

Tigre reluctantly released her body, gently.

"I'm counting on you to watch the house, Teita."

Teita wiped aside her tears with her sleeve, and said, smiling.

"Please leave it to me. Tigre-sama too, take care of yourself."

Just as Tigre walked out the front door while hefting the bow and quiver on his back, he saw that the soldiers were already in formation, awaiting him.

A short old man wearing leather armour walked up to him, and bowed his head.

"Young master, everyone has been assembled. The preparations are also complete."

"Well done, Batran."

This old man was Tigre's aide. Compared with the young Tigre, he had far more experience in battle, and within this unit, he was the only person besides Tigre who was trained in equestrianism.

As for the rest, they were all leather-armour wearing soldiers with swords hung on their hips and wielding spears.

"I sure have gathered a fair number."

Tigre heaved a sigh, and some of the more experienced soldiers half-jokingly said,

"Milord, there's naught to be worried about. Though we've not fought in a war for three years, we've spent our days working with the plough, and as such our bodies have grown tough, aye."

"Going against His Majesty's command, would be like disobeying the ol' missus, no? Then we are left no choice, but to obey."

"Your words are much appreciated. Why don't we simply bring your wife along as well? A few angry roars from her would be able to scare off even a thousand or two of the enemy soldiers, eh?"

The soldiers laughed uproariously.

"It would be best to give up on that, young master. This man's missus differentiates not between friend or foe!"

Batran had interjected with banter of his own, and Tigre ended this conversation with a shrug of his shoulders.

―― It looked like morale was not going to be a problem.

After waiting for their laughter to subside, Tigre saluted. Then, he mounted the horse that Batran had brought over, and raised his right hand up in the air, and gave a command.

"Our destination is the Plains of Dinant. En-route, we will be joining up with Lord Massas'<ref>Pronounced as Mah-ss-ha-ss</ref> forces."

The soldiers raised the war flags up high.

They carried two different flags. One had a blue base with a white half-moon and shooting star, the war flag of House Vorn. The other was of Bayarl ―― a sacred horse with a black mane and crimson body, the symbol of the Kingdom of Brune.

"With that, let us move out!"

The Kingdom of Brune, with the Kingdom of Zhcted located at its east, have had their swords at each other's throats for over twenty years.

The reason for the conflict this time, was due to the flooding of the river that served as the border of the two countries, caused by torrential rain.

Firstly, the victims of the flood were quick to point fingers at the other country, saying 'tis all because those fellows from yonder haven't been doing their job with the river', which served as the sparks that started the fire.

Next, both countries that were petitioned to by the victims, maintained the stance that 'there are problems with their flood control solutions', which fanned the flames of hostility even more, and finally resulting in a full-scale conflict.

If it were just that, Tigre should not have been summoned to the battlefield.

"The enemy forces number roughly five thousand, but our own forces number over twenty five thousand. 'Tis pleasant news, truly."

The one who spoke with sarcasm in his voice, beside Tigre, was a knight that was already past middle-age, Massas Rodant.

Massas was a friend of Tigre's father, and had often taken care of Tigre, his benefactor.

"They say it's because His Royal Highness is riding into battle for the first time, have you heard of that?"

Tigre asked, while riding next to Massas.

"'Tis likely to be true. His Majesty does dote on him, after all."

His portly body equipped with iron armour and helmet, Massas stroked his mustache in displeasure.

"The conflict this time round, is almost like a squabble between children, resulting in their parents having to step in, it is not something that would drastically alter the country's future. Based on the meaning of that, for His Highness ―― Prince Legunas, we are merely decorations in his first battle...to be precise, this is for him to gain some experience."

For his beloved son's first battle, the King must have wanted him to win a glorious victory.

The King had sent out all of the knights directly under him, and the nobles that lived near the Plains of Dinant which was soon to become a battlefield too, had received the call to war.

Even minor nobles like Tigre and Massas.

Those assembled numbered over twenty five thousand.

The forces commanded by Massas were about three hundred men strong. Within that, there were about fifty knights.

Though the numbers were not small, compared to the entire twenty five thousand strong army, they were but a drop in the ocean, and the same went for Tigre, which was the reason the both of them had been assigned to the rear end of the formation.

"The odds favour those who gather the greater army ―― 'tis but the basics of war. One day, Prince Legunas will succeed the throne. His Majesty was not wrong to do so, was he?"

Tigre patted the old knight on the shoulder in consolation.

Those words that he had said were rhetorics. If he did not say it out loud, perhaps he might have lost his will to fight.

"No doubt about it, we are but minor nobility, we only have to obediently wait at the back. If everyone bears the same mindset that this would be an assured victory, and lunge headfirst into battle for glory... that reminds me, Tigre, have you heard of the Princesses of War?"

He asked as though he had suddenly recalled something, and Tigre tilted his head.

"The Seven Vanadis of Zhcted, you mean?"

"Yes, that's the one alright. It seems that the enemy forces are being lead by one of the Vanadis. Though only sixteen years old, she has been undefeated, attaining victory after victory. An excellent swordswoman, she stands at the forefront of battle, cutting down all before her, known and feared as the [{{Furigana|Danseuse of the Sword|Meltis}}], or the [{{Furigana|Wind Princess of the Silverflash|Silvfrahl}}]."

The Kingdom of Zhcted was ruled by a King, and the Seven Vanadis.

―― The same age as me, huh.

Tigre had an inexplicable feeling, about this yet unmet enemy general. Though they were the same age, and she was even a female, she had far more battle experience and had performed many heroic feats, and commanded a five thousand strong army.

In the Kingdom of Brune that Tigre was born in, women were not allowed to become knights, except those born of high nobility.

So far in this war, Tigre had not even seen a single female knight.

Because of that reason, he felt excited.

"What name does she go by, this Vanadis?"

"If my memory doesn't fail me, she's called Eleonora Viltaria. The rumours say that she's a real beauty. If one were to place a precious gemstone next to her, it would pale in comparison."

"Is she really that beautiful?"

"It's great that you're excited hearing about beauties, but remember to keep it in moderation. Otherwise, Teita'll get jealous."

Massas' grey mustache trembled with his laughter, and Tigre replied sullenly.

"Why did Teita's name suddenly get mentioned? She's only like a sister ―― "

"Ever since you were kids, people have said that the pair of you were like a lazy older brother and a capable younger sister."

Even though he put it that way, Tigre could not make a rebuttal. Scratching his dark red hair, he changed the topic.

"If the Vanadis is truly that great a general as the rumours say, then we're in for a hard battle, aren't we?"

"That may be so, but the difference in military strength is simply too great. Even with a specialist of war leading them, they probably wouldn't be able to overcome that disparity."

No matter how hard the Vanadis fought, they would not be able to make up for the overwhelming difference in numbers, five times to be exact.

Tigre would have liked to voice out his agreement, but for some reason he could not do so.

He had an ominous, foreboding feeling. At the region around the back of his neck, he felt a sensation as though being burned.

This was not the first time he had experienced this kind of feeling.

Like those times when he was out hunting, and was surrounded by wolves due to carelessness ―― or when he ran into dragons while in the mountains.

Or when he had woken up in the morning, and was sporting some major morning wood, and Teita had came to wake up him like she always did.

In any case, when he had this kind of feeling, something bad was about to happen.

"You don't seem too overjoyed."

He had been wearing his true feelings on his face, it seemed, and Massas looked over in concern.

"Are you worried about something? You don't seem like your usual carefree self."

"What carefree self... aren't there other ways to describe me, like imperturbable?"

Tigre said unhappily, to which Massas smiled.

"It's fine even if you try to brush it off with difficult vocabulary. As for me, I remember that day as though it were just yesterday. Two years ago, when you had succeeded Ulus."

"I, did I say something then?"

"When the representatives of those villages and towns had asked you how to manage Alsace, didn't you answer them with a 'well, it'll work out somehow'? If that isn't carefree, what is?"

Tigre did not reply, only shrugged his shoulders.

However, Massas did not stop there.

"When Ulus was still with us, he had always praised you as someone who was 'calm and steadfast, though a little optimistic. He does make good judgments, and also has a strong body'. Those were exactly the words of a father favouring his son, weren't they."

"Even if you say that, I do have confidence in my way of doing things."

Only after Massas had finished speaking, did Tigre answer.

It was the truth that no major problems had occurred in Alsace.

Though slowly, their assets had been growing steadily. Those representatives who had been stunned at his casual statement then got along pretty well with him after that.

"Besides those days where you go hunting, are you able to wake up on your own? Without Teita's help, of course."

"... No, about that...."

"I've heard from Teita that...if you had two or three days off, you would grab your bow and quiver and head off into the forests or mountains to hunt."

Tigre's shoulder sagged in his silence, he could not refute that fact.

"Forget I ever said anything. It's good enough that you are performing your duties as a governor. That you can tell just by seeing their faces."

Massas looked over his shoulders, back at the soldiers.

Their fighting spirits were low due to being deployed at the rear, but not a single person had voiced his unhappiness or anger over it.

"Tigre, our job is to bring these men back home safely. Not thinking how to win this battle. I'm not sure what you're thinking about, but don't worry too much about it."

"Thank you for your concern."

Tigre expressed his gratitude for Massas' concern.

It was as he had said, there was no point thinking too much about it.

It was frustrating, but they were only called to the battlefield as decorations for the Royal Prince.

No one had expected them to contribute to the battle, nor did Tigre or Massas expect anyone to make use of their forces.

A few days later, Tigre and company had arrived at Dinant.

The twenty thousand strong main force, the vanguard were lined up at the foot of the hill. The rearguard that was commanded by Prince Legunas, five thousand strong, were on standby at the top of the hill. Naturally, Tigre and Massas were part of the rearguard.

Just from these facts, the odds of them having to enter the fray were miniscule.

<big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big>

The time was before daybreak. Under the dark sky, a thousand soldiers were advancing in silence.

They dulled the metallic parts of their swords and spears with mud to stop the reflection from giving them away, made their horses bite on boards, and wrapped their hooves with cotton cloth. Extreme measures of caution.

In that manner, they were undiscovered by the enemy, and arrived at the side of the hill.

If they climbed its gentle slopes, they would be able to see the enemy forces ―― the rearguard of the Brune army had night sentries, after all. The flames of the campfire flickered, burning.

" ―― Let us rest. Begin the preparations."

The silver-haired girl who was at the forefront, leading all of these knights, lightly smiled. The soldiers did as she bidded and started to rest, and retrieved the boards and cloth from their horses.

Before long, the scouts that they had sent out earlier had returned.

Hearing from the scouts that the enemies were sound asleep and did not notice their movements, the girl turned around and faced the knights. Drawing the longsword at her waist, she raised it high in the air, as a light wind blew.

"The enemies right before our eyes number five thousand, five times our number. A rearguard it may be, but if that is where the supreme commander is positioned, then it would be reasonable to assume the presence of many elites."

However, the girl's crimson eyes were filled with fighting spirit, and she continued.

"Even so, I will go. And thus, achieve victory. Will you follow me?"

The knights silently raised their arms, pointing their swords and spears toward the sky.

The girl turned her head in the direction of the enemy, driving her horse forward, and brought down her longsword in an arc.

"Assault, begin!"

Their war flags billowed in the wind. The shape of Zirnitra ―― a pitch-black dragon, the symbol of the Kingdom of Zhcted, adorned the war flags.

The rush of the air as they advanced. In the knights' hands were swords and spears, otherwise bows, and they followed the girl's lead, galloping on their horses towards the hilltop.

The soldiers on sentry duty had finally noticed the enemy assault, hearing the sounds of hooves striking ground, as if the earth was crying out.

"The enemy ―― "

The girl, with a flash of her sword, changed what escaped from the soldier's throat from a warning cry to a fountain of spurting blood.

Against the background of the gradually brightening sky, the girl led a force of a thousand men directly into the enemy camp, causing wanton destruction. The army of Brune had fallen into chaos. There were even soldiers who threw down their weapons, fleeing for their lives.

Although there were soldiers who had bravely tried to mount a resistance, the difference in the impetus of their assault were too different.

Above all, the valiant girl who led the forces of Zhcted. With her longsword she stood at the frontlines of battle, and was overwhelming in her strength.

With just one assault, hordes of enemy soldiers had been slain, or crushed beneath the hooves of horses. Even so, not a single drop of blood stained her body.

Each time her longsword had caused the wind to howl, the bodies that littered the ground increased.

Her silvery-white hair swaying with the wind, the girl had attacked the enemy camp in this fashion, with the horde of knights that had followed her lead.

At this point in time, victory and defeat looked certain, for the respective sides.

<big><big><big><big>◎</big></big></big></big>

His ears were ringing.

Screams, shrieks, death cries, hooves clacking on the ground and the sound of weapons clashing against each other filled his ears.

"...Ugh"

He woke up.

Spread out wide before his eyes was the blue sky that seemed like it would suck one in, in its vastness.

Pushing away the weight that was resting upon his body, Tigre got up.

When the ringing in his ears was gone, he could hear the sound of the wind and faint fading moans. The rustling of the pieces of the broken war flags and the trampled grass could also be heard.

Dust creeped along the ground in the wind, and the smell of blood reached his nose.

"Did I lose consciousness.... "

Tottering, he rose on his feet, and what greeted him was the sight of corpses as far as the eyes could see, a hill of death.

The grass was stained with blood, and the land was buried with hundreds, or even thousands of corpses, scattered about. A wave of nausea came over him, and he covered his mouth with his hand. He felt a moist sensation, and he saw that his hand was dyed red.

―― Blood...?

He checked his face and his entire head, but it seemed he was not wounded.

"Somebody else's blood, huh."

It seemed that Tigre had somehow been buried underneath a few corpses. Because of that, he had managed to escape the eyes of the enemy.

"Batran! Lord Massas!"

He called out the names of his aide and the old knight he was close with, but there were no replies.

He tried calling out the names of the soldiers that were under him, but as expected, there were no responses.

"If they got away, then it's fine, I suppose."

Wherever he looked, there were only corpses. Amongst the corpses, were scattered swords, broken spears, and the remnants of ruined flags.

Vision was limited by the morning fog that obscured the far distance, but, nothing moved in his field of vision. No allies, nor enemies.

Anger and hatred for the enemy did not gush out from within him. More than that, he was dragged down by the weight of fatigue and tiredness, and he sighed.

"A terrible battle it was..."

Roughly around dawn, a surprise attack had been launched against the Brune army. In the ensuing mayhem, their vanguard came under attack as well, and with that came the downfall of the army of twenty five thousand.

―― Yesterday, before midnight, our army had confirmed that the enemy forces were directly in front of us. In other words, Zhcted had split their army into two. A two-pronged assault on both the rearguard and the vanguard.

Tigre had felt the chills run down his spine.

The plan was simple. Even a child could have come up with it.

―― What was fearsome was, their calm execution of the plan, against forces five times their number.

They had fewer soldiers, and on top of that, split their forces. A small mistake, and their entire force would have been crushed. The soldiers must have been against it, to no small degree.

―― However, it had been a splendid success.

The Brune army had been routed.

Washed away with the stampede of fleeing allies, Tigre had been unable to take command of the soldiers. Falling from his horse, he had then fainted.

It seemed more like Tigre's unit had been done in by their own allies.

"Nevertheless...."

Tigre remembered. The one who stood at the front of the enemy forces, her longsword flashing, the silver-haired girl who cut down the Brune soldiers one by one without pause ―― he had only caught a short glimpse of her.

"Was that the Vanadis?"

The Princess of War, also known as the Vanadis, was always at the frontline of battle ―― that was what Massas had said.

The inappropriate memory of her beauty surfaced in Tigre's mind. He ruffled his dark red hair, as though reflecting upon it.

Fortunately, his bow had fallen close by.

Picking it up, he plucked the bowstring while feeling a measure of uneasiness and anxiety.

"...It's working fine."

He was relieved. If the bow had been bent, the bowstring would slacken, rendering it useless.

There were still a few arrows left in his quiver.

He raised his head skywards, and calculated the directions based on the position of the sun.

"That way's west, eh."

From this battlefield, going west would lead one to Brune, and east, to Zhcted.

Enduring the pain coursing through his entire body, Tigre slowly walked towards the west. Noticing something moving within his field of vision, he stopped.

A lone knight on a horse was galloping towards him, sword brandished.

Tigre entered a stance with his bow, and drew a single arrow.

The knight's horse trampled on or leapt over the corpses lying all around, and drew closer to Tigre. When the distance between them had been shortened to thirty alcin (approximately thirty meters), the knight suddenly roared out.

"A survivor of the Brune army? I'll have your head!"

Tigre remained silent, nocking an arrow to his bow. Casually, he released the arrow.

It was a blur.

When the thud was heard, an arrow could be seen piercing the knight's throat.

It was with amazing speed and calmness.

Completely unable to respond, the knight's body spasmed and lurched to the side, falling to the ground with a thump.

Having lost its rider, the horse let out a high-pitched neigh, and before Tigre could even walk over to it, it had galloped away into the distance.

"I give up... things aren't going my way at all."

He sighed. If he had a horse, he could have escaped from the battlefield with ease.

Trudging forward, Tigre resumed his journey on foot. But it was not even ten steps before he came to a stop again.

"Are they enemies?"

Three hundred alcin (approximately three hundred meters) ahead, he could see a group of knights. If they spotted him, he would be chased down immediately.

"... There's seven of them."

Tigre was born with a pair of good eyes. Those eyes of his had been further trained by hunting, to the point that even at three hundred alcin, he could distinguish the facial features of a person.

He ascertained the contents of his quiver. There were only four arrows left.

Though he had confidence in his skill with the bow, he probably could not take down two men with a single arrow. If all of them charged him like that knight did earlier, there was nothing he could do.

―― Let them be my allies.

While praying that, Tigre observed the knights. When he saw the face of the leading knight, his eyes widened in shock.

"The Vanadis...."

When the Zhcted forces had launched the surprise attack, she was the one who was leading the attack at the front.

Tigre was so charmed by her that he forgot to draw breath.

A young maiden of the same age as him. Her silver hair reached down to her waist, uncovered by armour and shimmering in the rays of sunlight. In those crimson eyes there was radiance and dignity.

Those arms of hers were slender, fitting of a girl her age, yet it inexplicably seemed suited for the longsword that she grasped in her hand.

―― Lord Massas had once said that she possessed a beauty unmatched by all but a few.

It was just as he had said. To judge that beauty based on normality, was out of the question. The more he looked at her, the more he had to agree with that statement.

Finally, Tigre snapped back to his senses. He shook his head, shaking off his idle thoughts, and calmly focused his sight upon the Vanadis' group.

The other knights were her escort, it seemed. As though protecting her, they moved their horses forward.

―― If he slew the Vanadis....

There was no reversing of the overwhelming defeat suffered by his side. Right now, they should be chasing down the fleeing Brune army in a large-scale pursuit battle.

"...But, should I strike her down, the pursuit battle would have to cease."

If Massas, Batran and the other soldiers that came from Alsace had survived, then it would be a great increase to the likelihood of them making it out alive.

Fighting spirit welled up inside him. The hand that grasped his bow was filled with strength.

"I'll do it."

Tigre drew an arrow, and nocked it.

"O' Elis, goddess of wind and storm..."

The creaking sound of the tightening, tense bowstring filled his eardrums.

On this continent, the maximum range for the bow was two hundred and fifty alcin (approximately two hundred and fifty meters).

This number merely represented how far the arrow could fly, a calculated distance.

If one wished to inflict bodily harm upon the target, the distance would be far less than that.

The Vanadis was still, as of that moment, about three hundred alcin (approximately three hundred metres) away from him.

Even so, Tigre still released the arrow.

The arrow tore through the wind, and embedded itself in the head of a horse being ridden by a knight next to the Vanadis.

As the horse collapsed onto the ground, bringing the knight down along with it, Tigre let loose a second arrow.

That arrow pierced the area between a knight's brows.

"Alright."

At last, as two of the escorts were down, a path was cleared.

A path to the silver-haired, crimson-eyed Vanadis. An opening for an arrow to reach her, was created.

"The real thing starts from here."

Tigre extended his hand into his quiver, and his breath grew heavy, and hot.

Even when in the depths of the mountain where sunlight did not reach, facing off against {{Furigana|Earth Dragons|Slō}} which were over forty chet (approximately four metres) long, he did not experience nervousness as he did now.

―― Assuming the other knights wanted to protect her, they were hindered by the fallen horse and knights. To get around them would take some time.

Although that time was a rather short time, indeed.

But to Tigre, it was enough.

―― In this situation, what actions she could undertake, is to either lie face-down on the horse, or get off the horse entirely, either one of the two.

On both her left and right were escorts, hence she could not move in those directions. There was a route to her back, but only for a few steps; it was not a viable route of evasive action. And at her front were her fallen subordinates and a horse. It would be difficult to cross over them without a running long jump, and horses disliked that.

Even if this Vanadis had managed that, from the start of the jump till the landing, there would surely be a small interval of opening.

And then Tigre, who had once again been focusing his gaze on the Vanadis, was assailed by an intense chill.

The Vanadis was smiling.

She was clearly looking at him. And in excitement.

"Kuh."

Tigre grit his teeth. Evidently, she was not taking him seriously. He drew the remaining two arrows from his quiver. One he bit on with his teeth, the other he nocked onto his bow.

But what happened at that moment was an unbelievable sight.

The horse the Vanadis rode on, gently soared into the air.

Far above the fallen subordinates.

That height, was probably twenty chet (around two metres).

It seemed to Tigre that the horse had almost grew a pair of wings and flew. It was not a 'jump', but closer to 'flight'.

"What was that, earlier... ?"

Fear and dread wracked Tigre's body. He almost thought his eyes were deceiving him.

A horse that carried a rider, it should not have been able to jump a height of twenty chet without a running start.

[[Image:Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis_Volume_01_-_040.jpg|175px|thumb]]

Yet the Vanadis had, with a calmness as though nothing ever happened, galloped in his direction.

―― Do not fear... !

He rebuked himself. ''I had merely been seeing things.''

Scowling at her, Tigre released the third arrow.

Riding upon the wind, the arrow travelled through the air. Just as it was about to hit dead centre on her forehead ―― it was struck down by a flash of silver.

"... No way?"

Tigre's eyes widened with his jaws agape.

She had struck down an arrow that came flying from over a hundred alcin at high speed with her sword.

Feats of that degree, came only from the likes of ''chanson de geste'', legends of braves and heroes. It was not something normal humans were capable of.

He nocked the last arrow.

He had absolute confidence in his bow. To say nothing of the fact that the opponent was charging straight towards him, and the distance of three hundred alcin had almost been closed.

―― It's impossible to miss.

He aimed the arrow straight at her forehead, like earlier ―― but was in the same manner, deflected.

During this interval, the horse spurred on by the Vanadis did not even slow for a moment, and approached him as fiercely as before. In about ten seconds, they would reach him.

"Is this the end?"

He had used up all his arrows, and had no other weapons. Escaping from a horse on foot was also not possible.

Grasping his bow tightly, Tigre stood up, gathering strength in his legs. He did not want to look too unsightly.

The Vanadis came before Tigre, and stopped her horse.

The young girl's silver hair was neither dirtied by blood nor sand.

She had white skin, that made him recall of the perpetual snow that piled up at the mountains of his hometown.

A refined appearance, with a well-featured nose and moist, bewitching lips that gave one the impression of a top-grade sculpture. However, the crimson eyes overflowing with vitality reminded one that she was a flesh-and-blood human.

She thrust the tip of the longsword at Tigre.

"Throw aside your bow."

He had no choice but to do as told. Nodding her head as though satisfied, the Vanadis said with a smile.

"You have good skill."

Tigre only realised after a while that she had been referring to him.

―― I'm being complimented...? Even though I'm someone who had been aiming his arrows at her only just earlier?

More than being pleased, he felt bewildered.

"I am Eleonora Viltaria. And you are?"

"Tigrevurmud Vorn."

"Are you a noble? Of what rank?"

Within the various countries included in the Kingdoms of Brune and Zhcted, those that bore surnames were of nobility. Besides a few exceptions, those who were not of nobility had no surname.

Tigre answered that he was an Earl, and her smile widened.

"Very well, Earl Vorn."

While sheathing her longsword into the scabbard at her waist, Eleonora cheerfully told him.

"From now on, you belong to me, as my prisoner of war."

While he was dumbfounded by those unexpected words, her escorts had finally caught up.

They surrounded Tigre fully, pointing their swords and spears at him, but when Eleonora waved her hand, they withdrew their weapons with a seemingly surprised look.

"Rim, let him ride behind you. He's a captive of mine. I don't mind if you rough him up a bit, but don't seriously wound him."

The knight named Rim nodded in silence. Because the knight's entire head was covered by a helmet, Tigre could not see their reaction.

"Quickly get on."

Looking down at Tigre, Rim spoke in a low voice from within the helmet. Tigre quickly realised why he felt that Rim's voice towards him bore a degree of anger.

Rim was the knight whose horse he had slain earlier.

―― Was the horse borrowed from the other knights? Even amongst the other escorts, this person ought to be a step above them.

"Is it alright if I take my bow as well?"

Tigre asked, pointing at the bow he had thrown aside onto the ground earlier.

"It's important to me."

He pointed out his lack of hostility by showing his empty quiver. Rim extended a hand out towards him, from on top the horse.

"Fine by me. However, I'll be holding on to it."

Tigre handed his bow over to Rim, and got up onto the rear of the horse. He then placed his hands on Rim's waist.

Suddenly Rim's neck bent backwards. The back of the helmet struck Tigre in the face, hard.

"What're you doing!"

Suppressing his reddening nose, Tigre protested. Eleonora laughed, her shoulders trembling.

"Rim, for the time being, he's my captive. Be a little more gentle to him."

"...I hear and obey."

Though the voice was clearly oozing with dissatisfaction, Rim obeyed anyway.

"If you dare to do something weird, I'll immediately throw you off the horse, and trample you to death."

Tigre sighed. Partly due to Rim's tremendous anger towards him, and also due to his own uncertainty about his future prospects.

Turning towards the knights, Eleonora proclaimed exultantly.

"Though a dull battle it had been, but I was able to enjoy myself at the end. ―― Well then, let us withdraw."

The Battle at the Plains of Dinant, had ended with the one-sided victory of the Kingdom of Zhcted.

Less than a hundred deaths were suffered by Zhcted, while Brune had a deathcount of over five thousand in the war, with the injured more than twice as many as the deaths.

But the losses was not limited to just that. Brune concealed something, a fact that would be hard to conceal no matter how hard they tried.

That was the death in battle of the supreme commander, the next-in-line to become King, Prince Legunas.

==Translator's Notes and References==
<references/>

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| Back to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume01_Prologue|Prologue]]
| Return to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume01_Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
|-
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</noinclude>

Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume01 Prologue

2017-02-24T20:59:43Z

An Orange Peon:

The tip of the longsword was thrust forward.

The one bearing the sword was a beautiful girl with silver-coloured hair that stretched all the way to her waist. She looked down at the youth from on top of her horse.

"Throw aside your bow."

The youth complied obediently, placing the bow that he held in his hands on the ground.

He did not feel like resisting. His arrows were already exhausted.

In their surroundings were countless corpses lying on the ground. Broken swords, spears that protruded from the ground like tombstones, and the wind that carried the thick smell of blood.

"I am Eleonora Viltaria. And you are?"

The girl's refreshing voice resounded, as if it were blowing away the smell of blood. She was dignified, and despite that she possessed a radiance in those curious crimson eyes.

The youth answered her question, mesmerized.

"... Tigrevurmud Vorn."

After asking him several questions, she sheathed her sword in the scabbard at her waist, satisfied.

And then she smiled sweetly at the youth.

"From now on, you belong to me."

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| Back to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume01_Illustrations|Illustrations]]
| Return to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume01_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
|-
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</noinclude>

Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume 07 Chapter 1

2017-02-24T20:51:31Z

An Orange Peon: /* Chapter 1: Burning the villages */

== Chapter 1: Burning the villages ==


“---Has Lord Tigrevurmud ever burned a village?”

Struck by the unexpected question asked in a casual tone, the youth was taken aback. He stared steadily at the blond haired woman -- Limlisha, who sat opposite to him across the table.

Lim, as she was called by those close to her, was twenty years old, three years older than the youth. Although there were traces of guilt in her blue eyes, she continued speaking.

“I apologize about it being an unpleasant question, but, if possible, I wish to talk about..."

“Ah, no, I wasn't particularly offended. I was just a little surprised.”

The youth waved his hands as though to say that she didn’t have to worry about it. He didn’t dislike that earnest part of Lim.

The youth’s name was Tigrevurmud Vorn. Those close to him called him by his nickname “Tigre."

Tigre was now under her instruction.

Being the adjutant as well as being the best friend of the silver haired Vanadis Elleonora Viltaria, Lim possessed a wide range of knowledge in political affairs, strategy and the like. Recently, she had been secretly looking forward to teaching her pupil, Tigre, the various things she knew.


Tigre was going to answer her question with his usual tone and expression, but he averted his gaze from her, and even his voice was tinged with bitterness.

“I have already had to burn nearly half of a village. It was when the plague was spreading...”

That happened several years ago, when the youth’s father was still alive. Neither cure nor medicine had yet to be discovered for the plague. The only measures that people could take were to isolate those suffering from the disease and burn down the buildings.

“... I‘m sorry.”

Lim bowed down in apology for reminding him of a painful past. Her dull blond hair, tied on the left side of her head, shook.

“It’s an old story. Still, why such a question?”

Tigre directed his gaze towards the table. There were many sheets of maps and twenty pieces, which were small enough to be held with a finger, scattered there.

Today's lecture was about war maneuvers. It was something along those lines, where Lim displayed the pieces on the map and explained the circumstances, and Tigre would answer in the best way possible within a limited time.

Although she was a strict teacher, whenever Tigre desperately racked his brain and deduced the best answer, she would loosen her surly expression a bit and praise him. After having constantly changed the location of the pieces on the map, Lim, who took a short rest, suddenly raised the question.


“Of course, I know that Lord Tigrevurmud is someone who would not do such a thing, but it's precisely for this reason that I would like you to think about it while you can afford to."

As Lim put a map on the table, she grabbed a few pieces and set them on top.

“You are taking a rest in a certain small village with one hundred soldiers. Well... let’s say there are fifty villagers in the village.”

Although he thought that it was not that big of a village, the youth nodded. In the territory of Alsace, which Tigre once governed, there were many mountains and forests; towns and villages could be counted over one hand. In this case, it was easy to guess so. Lim proceeded with the talk.

“There are five hundred enemy troops stationed one day's distance from this village. However, our earliest reinforcements will take at least two days to arrive."

With a look, Lim asked Tigre what he would do. The youth stirred his dark red hair, staring at the pieces and the map with a sullen face.

The enemy was five times their number, and reinforcements would not make it in time.

''---Don’t get the wrong idea. What Lim is expecting from me is not a way to defeat the enemy, but to find the best strategy to adopt.''

At first, Tigre had made a lot of mistakes like this, and had been scolded by her for it. Therefore, he couldn't afford to repeat the error again.

“While letting the villagers evacuate, we will also retreat. That is the only way.”


“It’s all good to evacuate, but what would you do about the village?”

Tigre frowned, and finally noticed the meaning behind her words.

“... By that, do you mean whether or not I will burn it?”

To the youth who confirmed the question with a sour look, Lim coldly nodded.

“The enemy is only a day's distance away. The time you can use to escape is less than half a day. The time required to pack things is also limited. Of course, what's left behind will be taken by the enemy. But by burning them, it can be counted as a form of attacking the enemy.”

There were many things that they could exploit in the village. They could spend the night in the empty houses. Compared to resting in a house, sleeping on the floor was clearly more exhausting. They could also replenish their food and water supply, and also raise their morale by obtaining the spoils of war. Of course, they would also be wary of traps though.

“Burn the houses down. If there are wells, poison them. Depending on the situation, in the worst case scenario, it would be necessary to make a decision to that extent.”

Tigre looked angrily at the map and pieces. He was thinking that burning the village was a bandit’s behavior. Aside from the plague, he had never thought that he might someday be forced to do such a thing.
Though he was desperately trying to think of other ways, he did not come up with a convenient answer.


“You strongly advise me to do so at such a time, huh...”

To the annoyed Tigre, who gave up, Lim denied him, saying, “No.”

“You do not need to do it yourself. If I am there at that time, please order me to do so instead.”

Tigre gasped, and stared in wonder at Lim. Even when making such a statement, her expression did not change in the slightest. She straightened her back, and confronted Tigre’s gaze. It was not because she thought it to be a hypothetical talk, but because she was prepared to do so.

“Although it is a necessary measure, it’s also certain to lose the villagers’ trust. As a general of an army, you will have to consider the aftermath. So--”

“I can’t do that.”

As Tigre refuted Lim’s words in a strong tone, he stared at her.

“When the time comes, I will do it with my own hands. I have no intention of casting the role of the villain onto someone else.”

“The morale of the whole army will be affected.”

Although Lim rose from the chair and immediately argued back, Tigre did not retreat.

“Even so, I will do it. Certainly, there might be times when I will have to order something unpleasant to someone, but this is a different issue.”

“It’s also the duty of a general to avoid incurring the resentment and hatred of the people.”

“Even if my honor is stained, I should restore it by other means. What you say is correct, but I can’t simply avoid the people’s resentment. Although paying attention to avoid failure is a major factor, if I worry about it, I won’t be able to do anything.”


Perhaps it was because he had been Lord of Alsace for only two and a half years, but during that time there had been no major issues. However, there were several times when Tigre had seen his father Urz troubled.

His father’s best friend, Massas, who also took care of Tigre, once said this: "There is no such rule where people have no complaints."

Tigre and Lim stared at each other for a while, but it was Lim who gave in. With a small sigh, she sat back to the chair, and ruefully said that she understood.

“... But please keep in mind that there is also the way I mentioned.”

“Then I also have something to ask. Assuming that I’m caught in such a situation and I have to burn the village, let’s think about what we can do to regain the people's trust afterward together."

As Tigre spoke with a smile, Lim, though it was faint, also spread a smile on her lips.

Just before summer came in LeitMeritz, several months had passed since Tigre began to live as a guest in the Imperial Palace.

<center><big>◎</big></center>


While staring with a serious face at the several sheets of maps that were spread on the table, Tigre recalled Lim’s teachings, which he received a few months ago.

This was not the Imperial Palace of LeitMeritz. In the first place, it was not even in the Kingdom of Zchted. This was the western part of the Kingdom of Asvarre’s mainland, in the conference room of Fort Lux.

Tigre, who suddenly looked up at the murky ceiling, could not help but to think about what he was doing in a place like this.

Tigrevurmud Vorn was not a person from Zchted. He was a small aristocrat who governed Alsace on the border of the Kingdom of Brune. He held the title of Earl. Though his skill with the bow was to the extent of what could be said to be a merit, the vocation was not held in high regard in Brune, which despised the bow.

What significantly altered the youth’s fate was the war which occurred between Brune and Zchted last year.

Tigre became a prisoner of war of one of the seven Vanadis of Zchted, Ellen, and afterwards, due to a twist of fate, cast himself in the midst of the civil war which broke out in Brune.

Eventually, Tigre rescued Princess Regin, whose whereabouts had been unknown, and succeeded in bringing the civil war to a close. But in the negotiations between Brune and Zchted after the end of the civil war, it was decided that Tigre would live in LeitMeritz as Ellen’s guest.


When welcoming the spring and seeing off the summer end in LeitMeritz, Tigre was requested by King Victor of Zchted. He was to secretly travel to the Kingdom of Asvarre and establish a covenant, offering cooperation to Prince Germaine.

In Asvarre, after the King died, two princes fought over the throne. Being asked a request from the king of a country, Tigre could not refuse and headed to Asvarre.

Although he was able to meet Prince Germaine, he was about to be killed. As he was trying to escape from the ambush, the prince was murdered by one of his subordinates, who triggered a rebellion. That subordinate, Tallard Graham, said this to Tigre:

“I aim to be king. --Please, lend me your aid.”

There were several reasons that pushed Tigre to cooperate with Tallard. Whereas Tallard intended to conclude a pact of friendship with Zchted, the enemy, Prince Elliot, had joined hands with the Kingdom of Muozinel. The Vanadis Sophia Obertas, who was sent by Zchted as a messenger, was captured by Prince Elliot. Moreover, there was also the fact that Tigre was attracted by Tallard’s cheerful personality.

Tigre borrowed three thousand soldiers from him and captured Fort Lux. It was something which was done from last night to this morning.

And now Fort Lux, which became the stronghold of Tigre and the others, was wrapped in a heavy atmosphere.

Outside the Fort, the shining golden sun in the western sky was setting. The west side of the fort bathing in the light of dusk was tinged red, while the east side, in contrast, was covered with a black shadow.


The faces of the soldiers patrolling on top of the walls and the soldiers taking a rest in the courtyard were colored by an indescribable anxiety. This was not the expression of those who won the fort after a fierce battle.

The reason why they were scared was because of a report that had been brought earlier by a certain soldier.

“Prince Elliot leading thirty thousand pirates has landed! They seem to be at a distance of about two days from the fort.”

The shock of the news was unfathomable to the soldiers. Of course, Tigre was not an exception. An enemy ten times their number was only two days away.

“For the time being, we should do what we have to do.”

Although he said so to calm down his companions, Tigre, who asked to be provided a map and re-confirmed the situation, could not help but groan at the seriousness of the situation.

“Is there anything I can do?”

A beautiful girl with light pink-colored hair turned her big eyes reminiscent of black pearls to Tigre. She was about 13 or 14 years old. Though expressionless and lacking the qualities of the children her age and possessing a grown-up tone, her appearance let one feel wonder and charm.

She was Olga Tamm, a Vanadis of Zchted like Ellen. Although she had been traveling alone for some reason, she met Tigre and they began to work together. While she had a delicate body that gave off the impression that she would likely break if touched, she had the power to easily fling an adult man away.


Along with Tigre and Olga, there was one other person in the conference room. He was a big man in his mid-thirties who had a visibly suntanned skin. His name was Matvey. The thick former sailor had the trust of the Vanadis Alexandra Alshavin, also known as Sasha, of Legnica, and he had been of great help to Tigre during his trip.

“Please don’t hesitate to tell me. If it’s your order, I will generally comply.”

Matvey crossed his big arms and revealed a creepy smile. Because of his frightening appearance, it might be this man’s shortcoming that even a well-intentioned smile makes people terrified.

If it were not for those two, Tigre might not have made it through the many predicaments he had faced in this foreign land. They were without a doubt reliable companions.

The youth, without speaking of the idea which came up in his mind just now, smiled wryly so as to dodge the issue. Tigre himself was unable to make decisions now, because the other members were not gathered yet.

From outside, the sound of footsteps overlapping with the clattering of armor approached. The only door in the room opened, and two men walked in.

One, while being of a medium build and handsome, was a man able to make people remember his gentle smile. Though he was without armor and was lightly dressed, with only a sword hanging from his waist, his movements left no opening, showing that he was a veteran soldier.


The man’s name was Vaild Ludra. He served Tallard, and was the General Commander of the three thousand soldiers who were here. Tallard originally intended to set Tigre as the General Commander, but Tigre had refused it and had placed himself in the position of Ludra’s adjutant.

The other one, in contrast, was clad in a rowdy atmosphere. Though he was exactly 30 years old, he was the owner of a baby face. If not for the large scar on his left cheek, his face would probably have allowed him to pass as a teenager.

This man, Simon, was the captain of nearly three hundred mercenaries. Following the merit system and realism of mercenaries, he was a warrior who had both popularity and skill.

“How are the soldiers’ condition?” Tigre asked as he waited for the two people to sit on a chair. While arrogantly leaning back his chair, the mercenary captain made a sullen reply.

“It’s a mess. Every single one of them looks damn glum.”

“We have temporarily avoided chaos, but it is necessary to issue new instructions as soon as possible.”

Ludra also expressed his concern in a modest tone. The two men had to appease the soldiers, who panicked at the sudden landing of Elliot’s army; they settled them down by scolding them.

''---It can’t be helped. It's like this because they don't think we can win...''

Matvey put copper cups with water on the table for all of them.


“It’s not sake?”

Simon laughed while looking into the content of the copper cup. It was not because of dissatisfaction that he said that; he was only joking. He understood perfectly that this was not a situation where they could talk while drinking sake.

Tigre put a map on the table, on which the whole area surrounding Fort Lux was drawn.

“Let's confirm the situation. First of all, where is currently Prince Elliot’s army?”

“In this area.”

Ludra leaned forward, indicating one point on the map with his finger. The other people stood up and also looked at the map. The mainland coast was at a distance of two days from the fort northward. There, Luarca was written in blurred letters.

“There are two or three fishing villages in this area, but among them Luarca is a particularly big village. I thought that the enemy's pattern would be to use it in order to capture Maliayo, but...”

Ludra took a heavy breath. He had been completely outwitted.

“Which soldier told you that? I thought the scout did not reach that place.”

At Tigre’s question, Ludra moved his finger to the lower left. Seen from the village of Luarca, it was the southwest; seen from Fort Lux, it was the northwest.

“There is a small town called Salime here. The villagers who were attacked fled here and conveyed the situation. The soldiers of the town, after hearing the news, flew over with horses.”


Ludra then explained in detail the sudden attack of the pirates.

“I heard that the village was attacked before dawn. It was at about the same time that we attacked the fort. A simple harbor is located in the fishing village of this area. The pirates took a large quantity of boats from the ship and rowed up to there...”

Under the sky which still had a lingering trace of darkness, what occurred was a tragedy which made one want to avert their eyes. The pirates mercilessly swung their swords and axes down on the villagers, who were surprised by the sudden attack. They broke into rooms, took what they saw and destroyed them, violated the women, and set fire to the houses.

Those who were able to escape safely were fewer than ten.

Tigre’s face was tinged with anger and bitterness. His hometown, where he had been born and raised, had also been attacked by Duke Thenardier’s army last year. Recalling how the villagers' livelihoods had been stolen unreasonably made his heart ache with melancholy.

Olga and Matvey, though not as much as Tigre, also felt resentment towards the pirates. Simon remained cool. He was practical when it came to war matters, but he made a point by sarcastically saying, "Very well done."

As Tigre took a deep breath and pulled himself together, he looked at his companions.

“How do you think Prince Elliot will act from now on?”


“He will move straight to Valverde, through the highway," Ludra asserted. “As you can see, the highway passing near the village of Luarca extends to the east and the southwest. By advancing to the southwest, it reaches the town of Salime, and by moving to the north, it is divided into two routes, each leading to Maliayo and Valverde. Neither route leads directly to Fort Lux.”

Valverde was Tallard’s stronghold city. From Elliot’s perspective, capturing Valverde first would become the first step toward victory.

“Prince Elliot shouldn’t know that we have captured this fort yet. Even if he intends to join General Lester, he will have to pass through either route of the highway. In that case, it is not pointless for him to head toward Valverde.”

When Lester's name was mentioned, Olga, who had been silently looking at the map until now, turned to look at Tigre. He shook his head at her.

Though Lester was the general who was protecting this fort, he was not human but rather a grotesque, dreadful monster named Torbalan. The only ones who knew about his true identity were Tigre and Olga, who had actually fought him. Since explaining it to the others would make things complicated, Tigre intended to keep silent about the matter.

''---I wonder if Prince Elliot knew that General Lester was a monster?''

Tigre brushed the doubt which grazed his head to the corner of his mind. There were other things he had to think about.


“But it’s not as if Prince Elliot won’t know that this fort fell into our hands forever. Once he learns that we've taken the fort, won’t he change his plans?”

Olga tilted her head at Ludra’s words. The red-haired knight calmly answered back.

“That’s right. Considering the possibility, he could slow down the whole march speed and send a reconnaissance unit of about five thousand soldiers and advance along the highway..."

“Otherwise, he could organize a detached unit and send it here.”

When Tigre said this, Ludra nodded nervously.

Elliot could not ignore Fort Lux. If he ignored the fort and headed toward Valverde, he would run the risk of being attacked from the rear or side by the enemy who might be in the fort.

That was probably why he had invited Lester to change sides before landing. If Tigre and the others had delayed in besieging the fort, there was no doubt that they would have been sandwiched between Prince Elliot and Lester’s troops, forcing them to retreat.

“In the event he sends a detached unit, it will be troublesome if they decide to get off the highway and come up here."

Ludra dropped his gaze onto the map and groaned. Olga retaining her question in her obsidian pupils, looked up at the knight of Asvarre, and then asked Tigre.

“If they proceed off the highway, I think that their feet will become dull and their march will be significantly delayed, right?”


From Luarca, where Elliot landed, if they tried to head south straight to the fort, they would have to go through the meadows, across a region where a number of large and small hills stood in a row, and break through the vast woods.

Leaving aside the meadows and the hills, they would have great trouble trying to progress through the woods.

“Yeah. If you intend to stave off the enemy's march, you would usually fortify the highway with soldiers.”

As Tigre put his finger on the map, he circled the whole area spreading out between the fishing villages and the fort.

“We cannot avoid the soldiers where they deviate from the highway. Being cautious and not neglecting the scouts is all we can do. There is a high chance that the enemy will go there.”

Matvey, who was silent until then, spoke.

“Ludra-dono, isn’t there anything you know about Prince Elliot’s personality? Something that can serve as reference about how he will move from hereon.”

Tigre stared in wonder at the former sailor. Even though there was impatience due to the anger felt towards the enemy or the status quo, he had not thought of this point.

Ludra twisted his neck with a troubled face.

“I have never met Prince Elliot, but there is something that I heard from His Excellency Tallard. According to him, Prince Elliot is an extremely arrogant and incredulous person.”

''---It’s the same as the story I heard from Ellen.''


Tigre recalled what the Vanadis of silvery white hair taught him in the Imperial Palace of LeitMeritz. Arrogant as Prince Germaine, his suspicion was strong. Ellen had said so.

“However, His Excellency also said this: that he is both bold and cautious, and that he is someone who never lets his guard down.”

“Bold and cautious?”

Matvey asked back, frowning. Ludra nodded.

“It was at the time when Prince Germaine had called all his siblings to the Imperial Court and killed them over suspicion of rebellion. Prince Elliot, sensing the danger, went to the Court after making arrangements in advance so that he could escape when needed.”

Elliot wonderfully succeeded in getting away from Germaine’s clutches. Meanwhile, Princess Geneviere, using the confusion which arose thereby, also successfully escaped.

“Regarding his boldness, I don’t even have to explain, right? It’s not normal for the prince of a country to negotiate with pirates and make them his subordinates.”

“Besides, there is also the landing at the fishing villages, which outsmarted us. He seems to be a prince who likes to make a display of his originality.”

Simon revealed a sarcastic smile, and asked Ludra while playing with the copper cup in his hand:

“Anyway, if it’s only us, we are no match. How many days will it take for Tallard to get here?”


By now, Tallard should be running about in the country of Asvarre gathering up soldiers. It was planned that when their numbers reached ten thousand, he would join Tigre and the others and go north to fight Elliot. Counting from the day when Tigre and the others left Valverde, nearly ten days had passed.

“Sorry.”

Ludra cast his eyes downward with a bitter face. It meant that he did not know either.

In the strategy that Tallard had laid out for Tigre, Elliot was supposed to spend a lot of time capturing the port town of Maliayo. It could be said that Elliot's dynamism had exceeded Tallard's expectations.

“The messenger will arrive at Valverde tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. However, it’s not certain that His Excellency will be there, since it’s possible that he left Valverde in order to gather soldiers...”

“Then it’s futile.”

Spinning the empty copper cup in his hand, Simon shrugged his shoulders and spoke in a facetious tone. When this man laughed, the scar on his left cheek would distort. Though Olga looked displeased by his frivolous behavior, Tigre and Matvey gave wry smiles. It was not as though they did not understand his feelings.

After all, fewer than three thousand soldiers would have to fight against thirty thousand enemies.

However, Tigre did not feel like blaming Tallard. He had also experienced the hardships of gathering soldiers in the civil war of Brune.

''---Well, what to do now?''


"We have to settle down and do what we should do," was what he said to them. But what should be done now? To think up a brilliant strategy that would allow them to defeat an enemy of thirty thousand soldiers?

That wasn't it. Extending his hand on the desk, Tigre brought out another map on the tabletop.

The position of the surrounding villages around Fort Lux had also been drawn. Including the smaller villages with dozens of people living in them, there were about ten villages in all. They might not have heard of the tragedy of Luarca. Prince Elliot's troops were the opposite of tolerance and mercy. There was no doubt that they would turn these villages into the objects of ruthless plunder.

“What we should do now is to ensure the safety of the villagers. For that purpose, we will adopt two measures: one is to take two thousand horsemen and set a night attack on the enemy army.”

“Taking into account the enemy’s number, I don’t think it will be very effective with only two thousand...”

“I don’t expect great results in the battle. If we can slow the enemy pace even a little, then it’s enough," Tigre answered to the confused Ludra. He was about to cut directly to the second measure, but he suddenly avoided meeting Ludra's gaze. However, he soon shook off his confusion and continued in a businesslike tone, “Concerning the second, we will evacuate the villagers. Taking into account the location of the village and the enemy army, after evacuating the villagers we will prepare for the night ambush. Though I hope that they rush to Valverde, at worst we will get away from the fort to the south.”

Tigre raised his eyes from the map and looked at Ludra. A deep shadow of seriousness and sadness flashed on the youth’s face.


“Will they follow us obediently?”

“The villagers have become accustomed to war. If we tell them ‘The pirates are approaching, run away!’ then they will listen to us. We will wait for dawn before moving the soldiers...”

Reproving the mutter of Ludra, who was putting his thoughts in order, Olga asked with a puzzled face:

“Isn't it for tonight? We are racing against time, right?”

“The sun has already set. If we left the fort now, the soldiers would arrive at the village at midnight. The villagers would probably have turned off the lights and fallen asleep. Even if we gather them and talked to them, in such a situation it will just cause confusion. It would be better to wait for daybreak, and then move after.”

The darkness of night easily contributed to the confusion. Not only would the evacuation not progress, it was guaranteed that those who strayed off the path or those who were left behind would appear one after another.

“Since we also have to let the villagers who were hired for the assault of the fort go back...”

Ludra grieved over awkwardness with a sigh.

“Well, it’s all good to have them evacuate, but that's not all, right?”

It was the veteran mercenary captain who said so.

“The village will be burned down once its deserted, and we'll throw poison into the water wells. That's fine, right?”

Matvey, Olga, and Ludra frowned at Simon, who asked for confirmation as though it was a matter of fact. Only Tigre did not show such a reaction. Instead, he heaved a sigh filled with resignation and violently stirred his hair. Ever since he had spotted the villages on the map, he had been anticipating this.


''---Lim really is a good teacher……''

The face of the unsociable girl with blond hair tied up on the left side of her head came to Tigre's mind. He recalled the debate with Lim. It was, without a doubt, consistent with the current situation. After they evacuated the villagers, if they left the villages and the water wells as they were, they would be exploited by the pirates. But if they could prevent the pirates from using the wells, the enemy would be forced to procure water from somewhere else. It was the basic of basics to force fatigue and trouble on an enemy during war.

However, perhaps it was because Simon said it without any hesitation, though Tigre agreed with his words, he could not bring himself to consent.

''---If we poison the wells, it won’t be possible to use them even after the end of the war.''

It was an act that was equivalent to the destruction of the village. Even if the houses which were burned could be rebuilt, the people could not survive without water.

“... Aside from burning the villages, is it possible not to use the poison? For example, we could throw stones into the wells so that the enemy cannot draw water," Tigre asked kindly. He did not want to destroy the village, if at all possible. But Simon shook his head mercilessly.

“It’s useless to do so. If we take into account the enemy's number, the stones would be removed immediately."


Silence fell. No one was able to propose an alternative solution.

Tigre returned his gaze to the map. He scowled at it as though it was an object of vengeance.

''---At that time, I told Lim that I would do it with my own hands.''

Her scenario had now become a reality. Of course, he could also choose to not burn the villages and poison the wells, but if they did not deal even a slight blow to the enemy, the soldiers who would fight would be in danger, not just the villagers.

If Elliot’s army was quick, they would arrive at the fort in two or three days. Regardless of how they dealt with it, time was needed for both preparation and execution. Yet, even the time to think about that was not being given to Tigre now.

“Lord Tigrevurmud, the General Commander of this army is not you, but me," Ludra said in a particularly rebuking tone, but with sympathetic eyes. “It is I who will decide and give the orders. You do not have to be concerned about it.”

“Yes,” Tigre nodded. Rather than agreeing with him, Tigre pretended to understand out of consideration for Ludra, who was anxious on his behalf.

What Ludra said was not wrong. But Tigre, rather than just following orders as a mere soldier, was in a position in which he could state his opinion to Ludra. Given that Tallard initially intended to appoint Tigre as the General Commander, one could say that they were equal in status. Moreover, the youth was unable to lie to himself nor to Lim, who was in Zchted.


“Ludra, I leave the compensation of the villagers to you.”

“I swear on my name, even at the cost of my life. Without fail.”

The earnest and prompt reply of the red-haired knight was at least providence.

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The moon inclined towards the west sky, and the night sky allowed its darkness to gradually fade. The darkness being minutely divided with its gradual shading foretold that the night's end was drawing near.

Of the nearly three thousand soldiers, about one thousand remained in the fort with Ludra, while Tigre led two thousand cavalrymen out of the fort before dawn. Although there was a still a margin of more than one Koku, they started to move a little early because passing through the forest with cavalry would take time. Once they passed through the forest, the sky was crystal-clear blue, and the sun was shining white, despite its low position. As scheduled, Tigre divided the two thousand soldiers into ten squads and sent them each towards a village. Tigre himself led about three hundred cavalrymen to one of the villages. To the youth’s left and right was Olga and Matvey.


The soldiers were wearing leather armor. Most of them were armed with bows and spears. Tigre and Ludra had speculated on the enemy's equipment from the talk of when the village of Luarca had been attacked, and decided it thus.

When Tigre and his squad reached the village, they were able to confirm the figures of the villagers, who were starting on their farm work. There were roughly seventy inhabitants of this village. Their days were spent working the harvest from the oat fields surrounding the village and the forest's bounty one belsta (approximately one kilometer) away. Their houses had plaster applied to their wooden walls had simple thatched roofs.

Tigre called for the potentates of the village, including the village chief, and they gathered in the chief’s house. Then he frankly stated their business.

"The pirates are getting closer. Pack your loads by noon and escape from here."

The chief and the others looked at each other, openly perplexed.

“By noon, you say?”

“No matter how you put it, isn’t that too sudden? To begin with, even if you ask us to escape, where should we go?”

“Valverde.”

Tigre deliberately spoke in a businesslike tone. Since he was not familiar with the Asvarre language that he only recently learned from Matvey, he probably sounded more blunt from the perspective of the listener.

Tigre had resolved himself for this before departing the fortress, putting coat after coat of ice around his heart, yet nevertheless his own words made him want to vomit.


He was conscious of how to proceed precisely because the village was of a foreign country. He had not even known its name until yesterday. It allowed the youth’s heart to creak soundlessly. If it was some village from Alsace, might he have made such a decision?

“It will take two days or more from here to there,” said one of the potentates, raising his voice. He was a man 25 years of age, and had a particularly conspicuous short white mustache. Seeing him suddenly reminded Tigre of Massas, who was back in Brune. He had not seen him for more than half a year. He wondered if he was doing well.

“First of all, I want you to go toward the south from Fort Lux. It doesn’t matter if you can escape into a village or a town in its neighborhood. If that seems impossible, you can change your course to the east and go to Valverde.”

When it came to such long lines, Tigre spoke in Zchted language first, and Matvey translated it into the Asvarre language after. Tigre’s cold attitude coupled with Matvey’s ferocious appearance and burly body was already intimidation from the perspective of bystanders.

“There are women, children and also the elderly... even sick people," another man muttered in what sounded like a complaint.

To his words which carried a blaming tone, Tigre answered while maintaining his cold demeanor.

“We will provide you with two carts. The children and the elderly can ride on them. There are probably also some more that you can use in this village.”

“---And what about the wild oats?” another potentate asked.

“All of the threshing is over. We will have kept them in the warehouse. We should carry them to Valverde a few days later...”


Tigre’s expression stiffened slightly. He recalled the state of the wheat field, which he saw on his way from Maliayo to Valverde.

After harvesting the ripe wheat, the next step was the threshing -- pulling the wheat ears back and forth between the sticks split from the middle would remove the wheat. It was a work which required patience. Once that was finished, they would be packed in hempen bags and transported to the warehouse. At a later date, a portion of these would be loaded onto the carts as tax, and carried to the nearest city. The villagers would use what remained as provisions until the next harvest. It was a scenery that did not change, regardless of country.

“You can request compensation.”

While it turned out that it was not such a thing (although they are not meant to understand), the youth could only say so.

Of course there was also tax issues. But at the demand that they should throw away the things they had obtained after months of hard work of sowing, plowing, worrying about drought and heavy rains, and racking their brains to find a solution to the harm caused by birds and insects, the villagers would naturally be sad and indignant.

“Can’t you do something before the pirates arrive?”

One of the potentates turned reproachful eyes towards Tigre. Whether it was because the man's emotions were highly strung or not, he vehemently cut off Tigre before he could reply.


“I will stay here. In the first place, it’s unlikely that pirates would come to a place like this. I have lived in this village for more than 40 years, and even though I have seen thieves and bandits, I have never seen pirates.”

Fed up with his words, Tigre put on a wistful face and declared overbearingly:

“Then go to the town of Salime and hear their story. Those who barely escaped from the pirates are there right now. If you hear it from their mouths personally, I think that you will resolve yourself. But by then it might already be too late.”

Silence fell. The place was wrapped in a cold atmosphere that did not allow anyone to speak casually. Although the village chief and the others felt uneasy and looked at each other, no one said a word. Tigre took off his eyes from the man and turned toward the village chief.

“---Chief. If there are people reluctant to leave the village, tie them up and carry them on a cart along with their loads. As I have said many times, we are running out of time. We will hold the enemy here.”

Tigre stood up as though to say that the talk was over. It looked like the words he threw at them made them surrender.

However, that was not the case. A man of such age that he would be the senior among the villagers moved his wrinkled face and returned these words in a faltering voice:

“We... we have been living quietly. Even when the soldiers under Germaine-dono rampaged, even when they trampled down our fields and broke our fences and barrels and hit young men without reason, we endured it without resistance.”


The old man looked up at Tigre with reproachful eyes.

“This time you want us to abandon our village?”

The sun was high in the sky when the villagers packed their load and left the village. Tigre did not even try to hide his displeasure as he looked up at the sky and heaved a sigh full of frustration. Although it took a half koku longer than expected, they had somehow managed to evacuate the entire village.

Clothes, pans, iron pots, farming tools and the like were scattered on the streets, thrown away during the evacuation. After another half koku, the fire would be set, and all these would be burned along with the houses and fields.

Just in case, the soldiers checked to see if there was anyone who had failed to get out in time. Tigre, along with Olga and Matvey, remained at the village's central square, waiting for the report.

“I will take this thankless role.”

Ahead of Matvey's line of sight, who muttered so, there were soldiers who were entering empty homes. Their action was slow; they were either openly unfavorable, or they were looking at the trio with eyes in which all kind of feelings were enclosed. Most of the soldiers were basically commoners. They had spent their days in their respective towns and villages without war. Although they were given detailed instructions beforehand by Ludra, the act of burning a village was still unbearable for them, and they could not help but to turn reproachful eyes at Tigre, who was the commander of the site.


“No, it is better that such a thing is done by me, a stranger. Besides – I also agree.”

In the black pupils of Tigre, who responded so, a masochistic and dismal light was blinking. If he was also in their position, he would have also felt resentment towards the person who gave such orders.

But, as a Commander, he must coldly give such orders. Even if he felt like vomiting blood, if he did not do this, Tigre and the others would be force to stand in harsher conditions. Taking a rest in an empty house, he also secured water so as to fight against the enemy in perfect condition.

“Sorry for that, Matvey. If only I could speak the Asvarre language……”

“You said what should be said. Don’t worry too much about it.”

To the former sailor, who open heartedly laughed, Tigre showed his gratitude by nodding his head. He also inwardly expressed his gratitude once again towards Sasha of Legnica, for introducing this man.

The skeptical looks of the soldiers were also turned toward Olga and Matvey. This was because both of them were seen as Tigre’s companions. However, Matvey scornfully laughed, and Olga, without changing one bit her deadpan, remained calm.

Olga suddenly brought her horse near Tigre. Though the Vanadis with light pink-colored haired did not say a single word, her quiet drive to protect Tigre was felt from her dignified attitude.

“Thank you. But, I’m all right.”


Tigre said so and lightly patted the girl’s head, and when the report that no one was left behind finally arrived, the youth gave the order to set fire.

Tigre himself poisoned the two wells of the village. So that his hands, which were trembling, were not seen by the soldiers, he left only Olga and Matvey at his side.

Not an ounce of emotion surfaced on Tigre’s face as he witnessed flame engulfed homes.

He was just clutching his fist strong enough to let his fingernails dig into the palm of his hand and shed blood.

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The meadows, which were at one Belsta (about one Kilometer) to the north of the village Tigre and the others left, was the place of the rendezvous.

When they arrived, nearly one thousand cavalrymen had already gathered. The Captains of each squad saw Tigre standing in the vanguard and went towards him at a quick pace.

Though some people reported the results with a bitter face, Tigre maintained his cold attitude and listened to them in turn. Their feelings aside, it seemed that they evacuated the villagers as ordered.

Tigre did not give any words of apology or appreciation at all. It was because he understood that it would instead only incite them the wrong way. By just carefully listening to their reports, he would show in his attitude, of act of accepting both their anger and bitterness.


As he finished listening to all the reports, Tigre gathered the Captains.

“Send scouts. Prepare eighty cavalrymen with little fatigue. Set eight squads of ten horsemen and send four squads respectively to the north and the east.”

Looking to the North, gently-sloping hills were visible in the distance. Shifting the gaze to the East, meadows mixed with sparsely color of dry grass were spreading. If the enemy passed through the meadows, they would probably come out in the highway.

Even though either way commanded a fine view, they were quite wide. So as not to overlook the enemy, Tigre made all the eight squads depart by different routes.

When it was over, he ordered them to set up camp. He planned to let them have a good rest for the time being in preparation for the night attack.

Although it was a camp, an encampment could brook no encumbrance. The surroundings were enclosed with a wooden fence, guards were set at key points and were taking rests by turn; they had meals, when it came time to sleep, they piled up overcoats on the ground.

In a place a little distant from the soldiers, Tigre was talking with both Olga and Matvey. Since there was no command tent, he had no choice but to settle at a distance so as not to let the soldiers hear unnecessary things. Since Olga hardly spoke, the two men became the center of the conversation.

“Do you think that Prince Elliot already knows about the fall of Fort Lux?”

“It’s better to assume that he already knows.”


Many possibilities for the enemy to obtain the information could be considered, such as villages who were too far from the coastal area for Tigre and the others to call for evacuation, or unlucky travelers and peddlers who had run into the pirates, or small aristocrats who feared Elliot and dispatched an emissary and so on.

“I don’t like pessimistic thoughts, but let’s assume the worst case scenario. Let’s consider that the enemy knows about the fall of the Fort. The number of soldiers in the advanced troops is seven thousand. They've passed through the meadows and are in the mid-hill areas.”

“I feel that seven thousand is a bit exaggerated, but under the present circumstances, it is better to estimate that much.”

However, the reality was greatly beyond what the two men expected.

As the scout, who came back by the time the daybreak, ran up to Tigre without stopping to wipe his sweat and catching his breath, reported.

“We discovered one party thought to be the enemy. They are at about two koku on foot from here. There is no doubt it’s a large party of twenty thousand soldiers!”

Not only Tigre, but also Olga and Matvey stared wide-eyed in surprise.

''---Twenty thousand!? And at two koku on foot?''

The distance of marching on foot at the moment was ten Belsta (about ten kilometers). Elliot’s army was advancing with a speed far beyond Tigre and the others’ expectation.

“I see. Regarding the enemy’s composition, can you tell me in detail?”

Tigre immediately erased the surprise from his facial expression, and asked with a tone as relaxed as he could muster. Probably because an overwhelmingly large army was in sight, the soldiers were agitated. He must avoid shaking them further.


“The enemy raised the banner of the Red Dragon and its ranks are in disorder……”

Everyone in Elliot’s army, without any mind to military formation, ran up the gently-sloping hilly areas at full speed. The visible weapons are sticks and hatchets and even though they are formally dressed, it was leather armor at best. There was no cavalry.

“Is the number twenty thousand certain? If the enemy’s ranks are so much in chaos, I think it will be difficult to count them.”

Olga, who returned to her usual deadpan, asked indifferently. When the enemy numbered thousands or ten thousand, it was not an easy task to precisely grasp their number. However, the messenger clearly answered.

“I have worked as a messenger for a long time; if there are 1000 infantry, no matter how clumped they are, I will know. As I mentioned earlier, there is no cavalry among the enemy and since the ranks were extended greatly in a line, it’s possible to count them by the thousand.”

“I see. Sorry for having doubted your words.”

Olga honestly apologized. Beside her, Tigre started to think over what the messenger reported and the moment he realized the enemy’s intent, he almost unintentionally shouted. However, without showing this, he gave words of appreciation to the soldier with a gentle smile.

“Good work. You can rest now. I cannot allow wine, but you can take a light meal.”


As the soldier walked away from Tigre, Olga and Matvey turned dubious eyes to the youth. Tigre’s face was clearly tinged with tension and anxiety. He took out a map from his breast pocket with impatient fingers.

“Have you understood something?”

“The enemy has advanced straight to the south with the whole army. And with a fairly forced march.”

Tigre recalled that someone said that Elliot possessed a bold personality.

The second Prince of Asvarre, without organizing a detached unit, changed the course of action of the entire army and gave top priority to the capture of Fort Lux.

“……Then, the enemy had ten thousand in their forced march turned deserter?”

Matvey said with a dumbfounded face. Since Elliot’s army should be thirty thousand, it meant that it had pretty much decreased by 1/3.

“The enemy has probably considered this point. That, even if there are ten thousand stragglers, twenty thousand remain.”

It was the right way of thinking under this situation. For example, supposing that stragglers continued to occur and Elliot’s army was reduced to half, that’s still fifteen thousand. It would be five times Tigre's forces. Even if Tallard’s reinforcement of ten thousand were to arrive in time, Elliot's army would still be superior in number. Moreover, the stragglers would catch up given time.

“But, if they are pushing themselves that much, they will be exhausted and fighting will become impossible.”

To Olga, who frowned, Matvey softly shook his head,


“There’s no way that soldiers would be deployed in a place like this. Or even if they were deployed, only a small number of people would be able to effortlessly break through. Honestly, even I don’t want to clash with an enemy ten times superior in number. Even if it’s possible to win because the enemy is tired from the forced march.”

If they misread the level of enemy exhaustion, they would be easily repelled. If they did not act carefully, they could be surrounded in a flash and destroyed. It was far too dangerous to bet on it.

As Elliot judged and anticipated that there would be no more than ten thousand enemies ahead of their route, there was no doubt that they were advancing at a surprisingly tremendous speed. Tigre could not help shivering. Though not to the extent of using swords, the smoke of war had already begun.

Tigre quickly took a pen and paper and wrote a letter. Then he called a messenger.

“Return quickly to Fort Lux and give this to Ludra-dono.”

The messenger, who had received the letter, carefully put it in his breast pocket, bowed and left.

Olga and Matvey, who were waiting behind Tigre, looked at each other. Since he did not verbally pass the message, it meant that the contents were not addressed to the soldiers. Thinking whether or not it might have anything to do with the night attack scheduled to begin after this, Olga asked hesitantly.

“What about the night attack?”

“We will do it.”

Tigre briefly asserted to show his determination.


“We must slow down the enemy pace here at all costs. We must at least gain half a day.”

Of course there was the fear of clashing with an enemy ten times superior in number. But, Tigre understood that the villagers would not be able to escape if things were going on like this.

The villagers had begun to evacuate from this morning until noon. There were leading children and old people holding their loads. It was a situation where even they did not know whether or not they would be able to reach the Fort.

It would be good if the pirates, after seeing the fire ruins of the village, became more careful and enhanced their vigilance; if they marched at the same speed, they would surely catch up by tomorrow. Tigre could not absolutely let such a thing happen. Otherwise, for what purpose did he burn the village, and poisoned the wells?

“I think what Matvey said is correct. However, if we revise our viewpoint, the enemy won’t be wary of us. There are no signs that they sent a scout. – It’s a good opportunity.”

“It’s a gamble, you know? And a big gamble at that.”

Matvey broadly laughed while shrugging his shoulders. This was the laughter of a sailor who had braved the sea storms. Though Olga was silently staring at Tigre, she did not disagree.

As the units sent for reconnaissance all returned, Tigre learnt that the enemy had stopped their march. Soon having left from the hilly area, they were at about one koku on foot away from the place where Tigre and the others were. He also confirmed at the same time that they did not send scouts.

Just to be on a safe end, Tigre moved out their campground, and retreated the troops to the south. Even though it was a campground, only setting up a fence was required, so it did not take a lot of time.


As the forest came into view, Tigre stopped their retreat. With the forest’s appearance at their back, they again built a campground.

The construction of the campground ended when the sun was setting. The clouds, which lurked in the sky, bathing in the light of the setting sun were dyed vermillion. The forest also dyed black a part of the ground in its huge shadow, which greatly spread branches and leaves, and the shadows of soldiers and horses had sunk in it. Matvey in admiration said so.

“With this, as long as we don’t use fire, it will be hard to be discovered from a distance.”

“I will prohibit the use of the fire after a little bit. From now, I want you to accustom your eyes to the dark.”

As Tigre gathered the Captain of each unit after that, he issued a few instructions.

“Let the soldiers make catapult slings. Pick up stones in the forest. And then……”

The catapults sling was a tool used to catapult stones at a far distance by using the centrifugal force. Since the string could be easily made with just scraps of cloth, Tigre had also used it once or twice when hunting. Though it was more difficult to hit the target, it could also catapult stones at a distance of one hundred Alsins (about 100 meters).

Among the two thousand soldiers present here, only about half of the soldiers, that’s one thousand, were able to prepare bow and arrow. It (catapult) was a means to make up for that shortage.

As he finished issuing instructions, Tigre slightly sighed. His shoulders felt heavy. Though there was not that much physical fatigue, the mental exhaustion was extreme.


“—I will take a rest for a half koku.”

Like that, Tigre put on a slightly dirty overcoat and turned his back to Matvey and Olga.

“I suppose you're off to take care of some business?”

To the former sailor who asked in a joking tone, Tigre only replied without looking back.

“I will only take a rest in a place a little away. I will return at once if something happens.”

After Matvey looked up at the sky, he saw off the youth while answering “Understood”.

Since the lurking clouds had hidden the moon and the stars, the night sky of autumn was darker than usual. With this, even if Tigre parted from the army alone to rest, he would probably not be conspicuous.

After they dared tackle their reluctance, they would be challenging an enemy ten times in numerical superiority. Moreover, Tigre would be leading foreign soldiers in a foreign land. Matvey wanted for Tigre to rest when he still could afford it.

Tigre, who was away from the soldiers, leaned against one of the trees that formed the forest and sat on the ground. Even though a little away, He probably couldn't hear normal voices, but a shout should be able to reach him at this distance. As expected he could not take more distance than that.

Though he closed his eyes, Tigre was so highly strung that he could not immediately sleep.

''---How should we fight?''

Last year, Tigre had struggled to repel the twenty thousand soldiers of the Muozinel army, who invaded Brune, with only two thousand soldiers. At that time, the soldiers’ morale was high, and he had reliable subordinates such as Rurick and the like.


There was the geographical advantage, too. Since the Muozinel army had advanced in a thin ravine (canyon) and got caught in the cliff, not only they were not able to use their military force of twenty thousand, but their March speed was also slow because of the slaves they had taken. There was room to come up with a plan. There was also the expectation that Massas and Augres would bring reinforcements.

How could the current situation be turned over? Though he could rely on Olga and Matvey, not only those two had no experience of commanding soldiers, but they also had no authority. He was also anxious whether the soldiers would follow his orders. Apart from the fact that he was not well versed in the geographical advantage, above all there was no time in every sense of the word.

“……I will somehow manage.”

Tigre brushed aside the heavy pressure, which applied a huge burden throughout his body, with murmurs, which could not be voiced. Suddenly, he tiresomely lifted his head when he felt something approaching.

Standing there was Olga. Though it was so dark that one could not even properly see several steps ahead, her light pink-colored hair, her small build, and above all the gray bladed axe which was in her hand, could not be mistaken.

As he was wondering why she came, the Vanadis of light pink-colored hair bent her delicate body, and smoothly entered in Tigre’s body.

“I need to rest, too.”

Tigre frowned, and rebuked “hey!” in a low voice. Olga indifferently replied.

“Matvey said not to use fire. This way you can rest without becoming cold.”

“But, that’s……”
[[File:Madan no Ou to Vanadis V7 cl03.jpg|thumb]]


Tigre hesitated to speak. In reality, he wanted to be alone for a little while. As he was thinking about a suitable reason, Olga spoke first.

“No.”

It was a small and unusually strong tone. To the surprised Tigre, Olga calmly continued.

“Tigre, I don’t know how you feel. But, there's something that I know. It’s that I can not let you be alone now.”

The latter half of her speech did not seem like her, and though it was a very childlike way of speaking, her words strangely enough entered Tigre’s heart.

“I will stay by your side.”

Olga was not clear about what Tigre did intend to do. However, she did not encourage or comfort him, and also did not accept or deny him; she just told him what she wanted to do. Though her words made people feel an adamant will, strangely they did not feel hard-pressed to others.

Tigre, without knowing what he should say for a moment, fixedly stared at the girl. Though his feelings of wanting to be left alone did not completely disappear, it was certain they considerably faded. He only said “Thank you” in a lowered voice.

The youth, at that time for the first time, felt the warmth transmitted from the girl's body through her slightly dirty clothes. In that warmth, there was something which made his heart feel at ease. As drowsiness rapidly assailed him, Tigre entrusted his weight to her smaller back.


Olga did not show an unpleasant figure; rather her body was glued to his. While tickling his nasal cavity with the sweet smell of her light pink-colored hair, Tigre fell asleep.

As she heard the sleeper’s breathing of Tigre, Olga heaved a sigh of relief.

Regarding Tigre’s decision and the action to burn the village, it was not as if there was no room to think.

But, more than that, she didn't know what to say to Tigre, who would not show his expression of bitterness to the villagers and soldiers. Although she thought of some words of comfort, she felt like she was short on words to fully express her feelings.

Therefore, Olga decided to support the youth by at least being at his side, and becoming his strength.

When late at night, Tigre and the others began to move. They whittled wood to make slabs for the horses to put in their mouths, and wrapped clothes around their hooves to reduce noise.

“I see. You thought this out well.”

It was Matvey who said so in admiration. For this man, who had spent most of his life on the sea, it seemed to be something unusual. Tigre responded in a somewhat embarrassed tone.

“It's not my idea. A good acquaintance taught me about surprise attacks and night attacks by cavalry.”


That person should be waiting for Tigre’s return in LeitMeritz of the Kingdom of Zchted at this time. He also decided to help Sophie – Sophia Obertas for her sake, and to return safely.

Matvey grinned, guessing that the youth’s mood seemed to have changed for the better from his tone of voice.

“It seemed that you were able to take a good rest.”

“Thanks to you.”

The facial expression of Olga, who was pulling her horse near to Tigre’s, was mixed with joy and pride.

The moon and most of the stars were hidden by the clouds in the sky, which did not fade away. It was the perfect situation for a night attack.

All the two thousand soldiers went down from the horses, and advanced through the meadows wrapped in darkness while pulling their horses. Since the sky was very dark, their pace was slow and cautious.

Though they grew accustomed to seeing in the dark, it was only to the extent of grasping the difference in the depth of the darkness. Even if the sensation of stepping on the grass was transmitted to their feet through the shoes, their steps were shrouded in darkness and they could see nothing. Since the sense of distance also went amiss, the fatigue built up quickly.

So as not to let the soldiers get too tired, Tigre took a break several times.

“There’s enough time. Don’t speak, or make a sound. And be careful not to fall.”

As they were marching since about a half koku, they saw some lights in the distance. It was the campfire lit by the pirates.

“Are they camping without even spreading tents?”


Matvey, who was standing beside Tigre, laughed in a low voice. Within this darkness, though his figure was only a black shadow, the only countenance the youth's imagination could conjure was a smile as wicked as can be.

''---It appears that the enemy did not build a campground, and they also don’t seem to rest together, huh. It is as the scouts reported.''

As they got closer until a rough estimate distance of about 300 Alsins from the campfire, Tigre gave instructions to the captains of each squad. He had already told them what kind of offensive to adopt, when leaving their campground. One could only say that it was all according to plan.

''--- I will shoot a fire arrow towards the sky. It will be the signal to attack with arrows and catapults, and confuse the enemy, and then you will charge. When we defeat the enemy’s vanguard, we will leave and withdraw from the battlefield.''

It was because he judged that attacking the vanguard and breaking imprudently in the darkness was dangerous. If they were to be surrounded by the pirates who reorganized their posture, they would not escape from complete annihilation.

The two thousand soldiers that should be called ‘Tigre squad’ suppressed their voice and quietly spread left and right. Looking at it from above their movement was like that of a bird spreading its wings.

The soldiers were gradually approaching the pirates. Sweat blurred on Tigre’s forehead. His and the soldiers’ breathing, the sound of the horses’ footsteps and the shoes scraping on the grass were very loud. Their heart was violently pounded in the anxiety of whether or not they were discovered by the enemy's good intuition.

''---So that the arrows and the catapults reach, a distance of 100 Alsins is necessary……''


They did not have to necessarily hit the target. But, they had to reach. If it was Tigre, he could even shoot from this distance, but the soldiers of course did not have such skill.

He considered the weakest soldier's standards as reference. It was what Lim and Massas taught him.

They finally approached to a distance deemed to be 100 Alsins. Tigre looked back at Matvey. The former sailor with his big body took out two sticks. One side of the stick was burnt black at the tip.

The soldiers who were nearby formed a wall around him, and Matvey vigorously rubbed the stick. Fire lighted at the tip, and then Tigre took out an arrow that he had prepared. He also coated the arrowhead with oil.

He brought the arrow close to the fire that Matvey was holding. The sickle burnt making a ‘pot’ small sound.

Tigre quickly nocked the arrow to his black bow and shot it high in the sky. The blazing arrow flew straight towards the night sky, and the pirates who saw it uttered loud sounds.

But, their voices were drowned out by another sound.

Nearly one thousand of bowstrings let their sound reverberate in the void (thin air), and the catapults and the arrows cut through the wind. In the night sky illuminated by the campfire, countless numbers of black shadows appeared. Shrieks and screams overlapped, and cries informing of an enemy attack were audible at where Tigre and the others were.

Tigre nocked another arrow to his black bow, but he did not shoot it. He first wanted to grasp the soldiers’ situation. So far, there was no disorder on their side.

The soldiers, who finished throwing the second stone, stripped the horses of the bits forced into their mouths in preparation for the attack, and removed the cloths from their hooves. They kept the catapult string, or threw it away and tightly grasped a spear.


Arrows were shot a second time. Several hundred arrows like a rain of black needles, depicted a dark parabola, and poured on the pirates. The voices of confusion of pirates became louder.

Tigre took off the arrow he once nocked on the bow. He rode his horse. There was the figure of Olga sitting astride her horse silently next to him. The soldiers also put their bows on their saddles, and took out a spear on horseback.

“--Charge!”

A battle cry broke out. Tigre squad let horses' hooves resound all over, and wrapping into a round shape, they advanced on the pirates. The campfire gradually grew big (large), and on the other side, many figures running about in utter confusion let their silhouette become clear.

The pirates put their weapon at hand, and though they were still wearing leather armor, they had not yet recovered from the shock of being taken by surprise. They were stunned by the appearance of the Tigre squad from within the darkness; they threw away their weapons and ran about trying to escape. Though, among them, there were some who tried to fight, weapons in hand, they were knocked out by the cavalry.

Flames painted the air and fresh blood dyed the ground red.

The cavalry had no mercy at all towards the pirates. There were few people who were practical about driving away the villagers, burning the village and poisoning the wells. They slammed their anger against the pirates. They kicked them about with horse's hooves, hit them very hard with spears, brushed them and pierced them.

Tigre also nocked the arrows to his black bow and defeated two people. Partly because Olga did not leave Tigre’s side, she had not yet wielded her ax.


The pirates either fled into the darkness, or they silently died and fell to the ground; as the battle around him gradually became sporadic, Tigre looked up.

Shifting his attention to the darkness, he could not help but gasp.

In the darkness, the campfire, which was burning moving from place to place, had been extended into the distance.

They were all enemies. More than ten thousand enemies were on the other side in the darkness. A dry smile emerged. If they rushed while holding their weapons, Tigre and the others would be swallowed in a blink of an eye, and would join the blood-stained corpses lying on their feet.

The blow was certainly given. Should they go back?

''---No, we can still hold…………!''

Tigre judged so. Since the enemy was too concerned about the speed of progress, ignoring other things. Even resting was a mess. There was no way not to take advantage of that mistake.

“Please gather the soldiers who are nearby. And charge once more.”

They were cavalry on Tigre’s side. Even if they retreat from here after launching another blow, they could easily shake off the enemy infantry. As Matvey also understood this point, he called the soldiers nearby in the dark and ordered them.

The faces of the soldiers, who showed up from the darkness and were illuminated by the campfire, were all colored with tension and excitement of a battlefield. Their morale was high.


Tigre brandished his black bow, and pointed at the flickering campfire in the distance.

“It's over there. Spread after defeating the pirates; we will go back to the forest with our friends. We will use the height of the campfire as a signal to go back.”

In the confusion of the darkness and the battlefield, it was difficult to gather. Tigre and the others could not also convene all the soldiers. He understood that it could not be helped. What was important now was their speed. Before the enemy bounced back, it was necessary to end everything.

“--Charge!”

He shouted again. The roar of the horses’ hooves shook the ground, and the war cry echoed in the night sky. Even with just this sound and voice coming from within the darkness, the pirates might be scared.

Tigre squad similarly defeated the pirates, who were also there; Tigre broke through the midst of the enemy along with Olga, Matvey and the less than ten cavalrymen, and jumped into the darkness.

There was no way to know the direction in the darkness. But in this case, as long as the forward returned to the North of the bonfire, it will be certainly right.

“It went well.”

Matvey said so in a joyful tone. He also seemed to have been struggling, and at the tip of the spear, which he had in hand, blood was dripping.


Tigre and the others barely managed to reach the forest before long. If they entered the forest, the enemy would lose sight of them, and moreover they would probably be cautious about traps and ambushes in the forest and refrain from pursuing them. Considering the enemy’s confusion in the first place, there was probably no way that they would chase them, and let their guard down. Here was a battlefield.

“Reform the ranks. Take care of the injured. Don’t relax yet.”

As he was checking, the number of cavalrymen gathered in front of the forest now was less than a thousand. Therein, the soldiers injured to the extent that continuing fighting would be difficult, were approximately fifty. Tigre provided them about twenty companions and told them to go ahead back to the Fort.

“Still, I didn’t think that half of us would be defeated……”

Would they be roaming in the darkness, isolated? Then they would need to be aided. In the midst of thought, the sound of severely uncoordinated horse hooves drew near from inside the darkness.

“It’s the people of Cliff squad……”

The primary concern behind the sound of the horse hooves was a certain officer who had made a name for himself. With his breaths like gasps, his voice had no strength to it.

Less than ten cavalrymen appeared from within the darkness. Everyone was injured, and the smell of blood was circulating in the night air and had drifted until here. The soldier on the vanguard was leaning against the horse’s neck and something long and slender was on his back.

''---Is it…… an arrow? Considering that, it’s long.''

When looking closely in the darkness, it was without a doubt an arrow. But, it was more than a fist longer than what Tigre and the soldiers carried.


“Our squad and Jeremy squad suffered from the enemy’s counterattack……”

Both Cliff and Jeremy were the captains who were in charge of the so to speak left-wing of Tigre squad. Tigre, who understood the situation, looked back at Matvey, and gave him another task. While ordering their treatment, he asked a soldier of the Cliff squad.

“How many people were defeated (killed)?”

Matvey translated the soldier’s answer. To the word “longbow”, Tigre muttered “It was that after all”. He had seen it only once, a long time ago. Around the time his father was still alive, Massas had gotten his hands on one and brought it. He said that it was a rare bow of a foreign country.

The bow stem was longer than Tigre’s height at that time. It might have been 20 Chet (about 2 meters). As it was long, it required considerable physical strength to draw the bowstring; Tigre of course, and even his father or Massas were not able to draw it sufficiently.

『Though considerable strength is needed to draw it, the arrow will fly with only. 300 Alsin seems to be light. 』


Tigre remembered well what Massas had said.

''---So their fast recovery was due to this squad of longbows, huh!''

Tigre was terrified. Judging from the injury and the way of talking of the soldiers, it meant that there was probably not only one or two longbow users. There must be a squad from dozens to several hundred people. They would probably have to dive in there.


“Are there still allies remaining?”

To Tigre’s question using Matvey as intermediary, the soldier feebly nodded.

“Good work. We will help your companions. Choose three people with shallow wounds as guides, and retreat into the forest.”

Making the soldier of the Cliff squad lead the way, Tigre squad, reduced to nine hundred, advanced in the darkness. In the place where cries of the battlefield gradually increased, the youth nocked an arrow to his black bow.

“Matvey. I leave you in command.”

At that time he roughly grasped the position of allies and foes. Near the campfire was the enemy, who had formed an orderly rank. In the dark where the campfire’s light did not reach, the allies were squirming.

The wind noise, mixed and overlapping with dozens or several hundred of roars of their horses’ hooves, tickled the eardrum. It was the sound of arrows, which were shot from longbows and tore the night air to hit the allies far away.

Tigre chewed his molar. The enemy, who noticed them, was trying to change the direction to where they (Tigre) were. Though there was still a distance of about three hundred Alsins between them, it was better to think that it was not a problem for the enemy.

Tigre put power to his foot stepping on a stirrup, stretched straight out his left hand holding the black bow forward and drew the bowstring to the limit. And as he further shortened the distance to one hundred Alsins, he shot the arrow.


The arrow drew the orbit of a mountain, and flew as it were sucked towards the enemy squad who were set up with longbows. It went and pierced the forehead of one soldier. When that soldier fell down, confusion began to spread among the other soldiers.

Tigre, without particularly showing joy, like a craftsman, who kept working silently, nocked a new arrow to the bow. It was not as if he was aiming at random. His aim was set.

The second shot. Because they drew closer earlier, hitting the target that was aimed at was not difficult. The movement of the enemies that were setting up their longbows became dull once again. It was fatal in this situation. Although the arrows were shot from the longbows, their numbers did not even reach half of the enemy.

Although the soldiers of the Tigre squad, who were hit by arrows, fell from the horses one after another, still the momentum of the assault did not become dull, and several hundreds of cavalry sprang toward the squad of longbow users.

Though the archers each possessed a burly body, one could only say as expected of archers. They were not good at close range combat, so they threw away their longbows and fled. While nocking an arrow to his black bow, Tigre shouted.

“Don’t chase the enemy! Help the allies!”

Matvey repeated what Tigre had said in Asvarre language. They had little time. If there was another squad of longbows, the attack on Tigre’s side, in which they simultaneously shoot arrows from a distance would certainly not reach them.

Having spoken loudly he had attracted the enemy's attention. The pirates, who finally regained their composure, brandished clubs and axes and attacked Tigre.


But, Olga advanced her horse as to break between both parties. At that time, the ax, which was in the hand of the girl with light pink-colored hair, had already changed its shape to that of a long haft.

Her {{furigana|Dragonic Tool|Viralt}}, the Roaring Demon had the ability to change its shape according to its master’s intention (will). Using the confusion and the darkness of the battlefield, Olga had transformed the ax.

With her thin arms, Olga totally easily swung the double-edged ax, which would not be even possible to lift, around like a stick. It smashed the heads of the enemies swarming, and blew off their arms along their weapons. It was as if a storm was born in the darkness.

Mixed with fresh blood were torn flesh and crushed bone fragments, which were scattered. The grey matter and entrails were thrown out (dumped). It was hardly thinkable that it was the physical strength of a young girl. When one thought that it was caught, the gray blade had blown away anything and everything.

Even though she continued wielding an ax without rest, no change was seen in Olga’s expression. The will of not wanting to let even one soldier approach Tigre was overflowing in her black eyes, the {{furigana|Moon Princess of the Roaring Demon|Bardiche}} continued killing and amassing a mountain of enemy corpses. . In her figure, there was something which made even the pirates wince.

About a quarter koku had passed, and Tigre left the battlefield with the soldiers. They rushed into the forest. As he confirmed the situation, Cliff was alive, but Jeremy was already no longer of this world.


"……I am sorry."

A color of fatigue was deep in the face of Cliff who powerlessly lowered his head, and his body was full of bruises.

As he returned into the forest, Tigre ordered the soldiers to take a rest. And, he told them not to make more fires than necessary.

“They may come to inquire on the situation. Don’t forget that there are still a great number of enemies here.”

The voice of Tigre giving instructions was cold (indifferent), and was similar to that of a composed Commander, but it was meant to conceal the impatience of his heart.

''---One of my moves was sealed……''

That was referring to the move he use when he repulsed the Muozinel army, which has invaded Brune. Tigre had forced the assault, approached Kashim who was the advance troops' Commander until a distance of 300 Alsins and killed him with his bow and an arrow.

It looked like he was not able to use that plan this time. As long as the squad of soldiers who used longbows was around Elliot, they would pour a rain of arrows taking the opportunity when Tigre would aim at the Commander. If it’s like this (if so), sniping would indeed be impossible.

''---Anyway, we have no choice, but to gain time…………''

When dawn drew near, Tigre and the others returned to the Fort.



<center><big>◎</big></center>

With near to two thousand casualties and reports of them increasing, Elliot, the second prince of the Asvarre kingdom, refrained from shouting at the pirates despite having revealed a moment of surprise and anger.

Here was the camp of the Elliot army. Although called a camp, they were not surrounded by a fence and ditch, and even for just the soldiers there were too few tents.

The pirates properly gathered together and made a fire, and were directly lying on the ground. There were those using blankets and overcoats that they took from the villages, but those were the minority. That appearance, rather than calling it an army, was more accurately called a herd of bandits.

At the center of such a camp, two tents were spread. One of them was used by Elliot, who was the General Commander of this army. Within the tent, a desk and a chair, while being of poor structure, were placed, and there was a bottle of wine and a silver cup on the desk.

As he made the pirate who finished the report withdraw, Elliot clicked his tongue and kicked the ground. His well-featured handsome face was distorted and steeped with violent emotions.

“When I think that I have taken the Fort, what followed is a night attack, huh. A commoner born in a fishing village going and doing something like that.”

The commoner born in a fishing village was referring to Tallard. Although he was originally a Prince using a rough way of speaking, one could not imagine it was a royalty influenced by pirates.


Everything was going as planned, until noon today. Beginning with the village of Luarca, they had burned down several fishing villages, and after loading the captured villagers onto a ship, who were likely to be sold as slaves, Elliot led the pirates, advanced on the highway in high spirits.

Though of course they also attacked the villages along the highway, and when he asked the villages potentates captured at that time about Tallard Graham and the movement of the army he led, a surprising answer came back.

Fort Lux fell to Tallard’s attack, and though General Lester was defeated, it was said that he safely escaped somewhere.

Elliot immediately left the highway, and decided to rush to Fort Lux. If this story was true, then there was no doubt they would be struck by a surprise attack before reaching Valverde if they continued advancing on the highway. He only hastened the march willing to drop out (lose) up to half of the whole army. Then, there was this night attack. He was amazed by the speed of response of the other party.

“There should be dozens of small villages ahead……”

When he decided to move toward Fort Lux, Elliot intended to attack those villages, to resupply necessary goods, food being the priority. At the time of landing (the boats), the food, which the Prince prepared, was only sufficient for four days. In order to act promptly, he gave it to the pirates without preparing the load for the troops. Even if they came ashore surprising the enemy, it had no meaning if they did not quickly proceed with their next move.


In addition, the act of looting was the quick (and easy) way in order to maintain the pirates' morale.

However, if their enemy came this far, then it was another story.

''---That bastard Tallard has been relying on the people’s support. Rather than abandoning the people of villages, he makes them escape. And there is no doubt that he would either retrieve the food, which was in the villages, or burn it.''

“Until we take back Fort Lux, we will be unable to supply food and water. It would be better to think so.”

Though he requested to transport the food and goods to his alliance’s partner Muozinel in preparation for the time there was something, Elliot's army was constantly moving. It was likely to happen in several days.

He poured the very lukewarm wine in a silver cup, and gulped it with violent hand movements. At that time, the pirate who was keeping watch outside reported that a visitor was there. Without even hiding his bad mood, Elliot ordered to let him in.

Entering after an interval of about ten counts was a young man in his mid-twenties. With a high stature, he was the owner of a body which well-matched the description of being rough rather than sturdy. His arms were especially thick.

Wearing leather armor, which applied ornament, he held a bow as long as his height in his hand. Elliot stood from the chair revealing a smile, and extended his hands so as to welcome him.

“I give you my thanks, Hamish. We were able to repel the enemy thanks to you.”

The man named Hamish, without changing his stern expression, bowed.

“For that matter, there is one thing I came to ask his Highness.”


“……Is there something that bothered you?”

At the time, when the late King Zacharias was still alive, Elliot, with the comfort of second Prince also assisted him; he gathered aristocrats of low class about the same age, and led a loose life. Hamish was one of his libertine companions. Now he was one of the very few subordinates that Elliot could trust.

At the time when Germaine and Elliot had divided the country in two and begun to fight, though Hamish had officially declared neutrality and adopted a watchful stance, he had actually secretly kept in touch with Elliot, and sent various information. It was also this man who appealed to Lester.

With his befitting peerage of Viscount as a small aristocrat, his territory was small, and he could only move a few soldiers.

However, the approximately four hundred soldiers under Hamish’s command were somewhat special (unique).

They were skilled in the use of longbow.

The arrows shot from a longbow were powerful. At short distances, it could even pierce chain mail or iron armor.

The flying distance was also great. It could shoot at an enemy at 300 Alsins or beyond. It was a distance that could be never be reached by an average archer with an ordinary bow. It was not impossible with a crossbow, but the firing rate was far inferior.

Though power to draw the bowstring to the limit was absolutely necessary to handle it, thanks to repeated training the longbow users were a redoubtable group.

Hamish, who was the Imperial Prince Commander of those longbow users, said while making a sullen face,


“Among the enemy, there is someone who possesses archery skills out of the ordinary.”

Hamish raised his voice. To be exact, because he was reminded of the appearance of an opponent he did not even know, his feelings were highly strung, and his voice naturally became clamorous.

“That person could shoot (aim) an arrow at a distance of more than 300 Alsins, moreover on horseback, and aim accurately.”

Elliot folded his arms, and looked up at Hamish’s large build. Frowning as he understood the meaning of his subordinate’s words, he put on an amazed face.

“I do not think it possible to shoot an arrow at a distance of 300 Alsins with an ordinary bow. Didn’t you perhaps mistake it with a crossbow or a longbow?”

“Two commanders of my hundred bows squad were killed; both with ordinary arrows.”

Hundred bows commander literally referred to a person who commanded a hundred soldiers who used longbows. Though there were four commanders of a hundred bows under Hamish, they had decreased to half in one night. It was a severe loss.

“As the report already said, when we were fighting the enemy's cavalrymen force, we were struck by an attack from another squad of the enemy. The bow user, who was among them, shot the arrows from a distance of 300 Alsins and killed the commanders of a hundred bow users one after another.”

In Hamish’s voice there were not only anger and sadness, but some admiration was also included.

Because the commanders of a hundred bows users were defeated, the soldiers were confused, and they suffered a few sacrifices since the counter-attack was not in time.

His anger and sadness were for those victims. On the other hand, Hamish was able to have respect for the owner of outstanding skill, even as an enemy.


“Your Highness, it’s not that I want to make a big fuss about it. But there is a redoubtable enemy. Shooting an arrow on top of a running horse and in the confusion of the battlefield of midnight, and hitting the target aimed at, he is a monster in the usage of bows.”

Emphasizing the latter half of his speech, Hamish feverishly (enthusiastically) explained. While being a little surprised at his attitude, Elliot waved his hand as to order him to settle down. The user of the longbow regained his composure, bowed his head and apologized for the impoliteness.

“I understood the story. So you want to ask me about that bow user, huh. However, unfortunately, I have also not heard of such a guy__”

Stopping in mid-sentence, Elliot suddenly stiffened his expression.

“Speaking of which, I heard that that bastard Tallard excels in the use of the bow……”

The voice of the second Prince of Asvarre was rapid. It was tinged with a small carelessness. The feelings he harbored towards Tallard were that of hatred and disdain, but also fear.

From about half a year since the beginning of the strife with Germaine, Elliot had never won against Tallard. On the contrary, he was even forced to surrender in local battles.

Elliot, who was born Prince, served by all and raised as a Prince, naturally looked down on Tallard, who was born and raised in a fishing village, but the fact that he could not win with only that, no matter how he fought, was disgraceful, and terrifying at the same time.


“No, Your Highness. It was not Lord Tallard.”

To Hamish who stated so in a moderate tone, Elliot threw a dangerous gaze.

“Did you see the appearance?”

“Only for a moment. There was no composure until he shot the arrow.”

That “there was no composure” was because the soldiers were confused because the commanders of a hundred bows users had been defeated in succession. But, without mentioning that, Hamish only described the enemy's features.

“It was a youth who has probably not yet reached 20 years old. His hair color was darkish. With the appearance of plain bow and ordinary leather armor, he was deemed not to be an aristocrat. Among the soldiers, there are also those who have seen that bow user, I can confirm there is no mistake.”

“It was not Tallard, huh……”

Though Elliot inwardly took a break of relief, he also understood at the same time that it was a worrying situation. It meant that other than Tallard, there was another bow user with excellent skills, who was on the enemy side.

“If there is such a talented person, I thought that his name would be known.”

“It cannot be helped if its someone we don’t know. Can you win against that bow user?”

“……If we are separated from 400 Alsins.”

The longbow of Hamish could shoot (aim) at a target at 400 Alsins or more, if the bowstring was drawn to the maximum. Though he naturally had skill, it was a distance which could be reached because of the longbow.


“Alright. Your squad will be placed in the stronghold as bodyguards to protect me. We have a few hundred here. If there is only one enemy, then there is no need to worry.”

“Yes. However, Your Highness must take care. Until we approach a distance where arrows can reach, we have to subjugate the enemy’s General, by all means, and win. Since the enemy is able to fight like that.”

As Elliot nodded to Hamish’s words, he conveyed the plans of hereafter - recapturing Fort Lux and heading toward Valverde afterwards.

“Will the food be enough?”

It was what Hamish first asked. Elliot answered in disappointment.

“We cannot afford it. Therefore, we cannot recklessly act.”

“How about threatening the nearby towns such as Salime so that they deliver food?”

“If we stop on the way, it will probably give time to Tallard.”

It was an assault to beat Tallard in one go without giving him room to set up a countermeasure. Though it could not be helped for Fort Lux, they could not afford to stop on the way more than this until they captured Valverde.

“Oh yeah, Hamish. I will show you something nice.”

Changing the topic, Elliot stood up with a smile. He came out of the tent followed by Hamish. They went in the tent directly spread nearby. To the guard standing in front of the tent, they confirmed whether there was anyone who approached. The guard answered in a faltering tone.


“There were some people, but none have gone in.”

As Elliot satisfactorily (contently) nodded, he entered the tent.

“How do you feel, Sophia-dono?”

Therein was a young woman. Her white skin got dirty with the forced long trip, and although her golden hair which extended to her waist had lost its gloss and become dull, her beautiful face which possessed both intellect and loveliness was not ruined (damaged) in the slightest. Though the color of fatigue was deep in her face, her strong will was felt in her eyes of beryl.

Though her delicate shoulders were naked, her rich bosom, her slender waist and her legs which smoothly extended were wrapped in a pale green color dress. The edge of her dress also became loose, and dirt was conspicuous (showed dirt).

And above all, making those who saw her feel miserable was probably the boorish iron chain that restrained her thin arms. A heavy iron ball was rolling at the tip of the chain, and put her in the situation where it was difficult to even stand up.

She was Sophia Obertas. A Vanadis of Zchted. Far from being frightened by Elliot, who was undressing her whole body with his eyes, she even revealed a stout-hearted smile and responded.

“Thanks to you, I am feeling at ease, Your Highness.”

Without replying to her words, Elliot looked back at Hamish.

“Hey, Hamish. Here is a Vanadis of Zchted, Sophia Obertas-dono. Don’t you think she is really too much of a beautiful woman to hand over to Muozinel?”


Hamish did not immediately answer. He was captivated by Sophie’s beauty, and was just standing on the spot in blank amazement. It took time of about three counts until the longbow user noticed Elliot’s gaze and came to his senses.

To Hamish with his face dyed red, who apologized for his impoliteness, Elliot generously nodded. However, he did not also forget to give him a warning in a lower voice.

“Hey Hamish. I have executed nearly ten pirates for this woman’s safety. She is that valuable. Even if it is you, I cannot make an exception.”

“I am aware of it.”

After answering, Hamish turned his line of sight to both arms of Sophie.

“However, Your Highness. Isn’t it going a little too far by tying a weak woman with a chain?”

These words seemed to have come out from pure sympathy. But, Elliot scornfully laughed.

“I hear a Vanadis of Zchted would put any man to shame, and she is equal to a thousand soldiers. Moreover, my army does not have that. Would you not agree this degree of measure is essential?”

To Elliot’s banter, Hamish also nodded. Although he placed guards at the key points, he could not expect anything for the discipline. In fact, there were two thousand casualties during the ensuing night attack.

“Sophia-dono. I will have you bear it for a while again, since Muozinel should come to take you in a few days. Just to tell you, I do not mind if you want to run away. But, if you do so, the guys who are in the Capital will die.”


The guys who were in the Capital were the people who had served as Sophie’s escort when she came to Asvarre as a messenger. After using Sophie who he caught as a hostage and making them surrender, Elliot imprisoned them in the Capital.

In fact, Elliot did not think he was safe at all even if he had hostages. He even considered the possibility that Sophie would forsake the hostages, since he would naturally do so if he were in her position.

“Oh yeah, Hamish. About the bow user of 300 Alsins. If you bring him down, I might have to take some things into consideration. So that Muozinel would not learn of it.”

As he spoke in a tone untelling to exactly how serious he was, Elliot turned his back to Sophie and left the tent along with Hamish. He had had somewhat of a change of spirit. Although the discomfort continued, there was Muozinel as an ally here.

''---That’s right, no matter how much the likes of Tallard struggles, it won’t change anything.''

As he parted with Hamish, Elliot revealed a smile and returned to his tent.

Confirming signs of Elliot and Hamish leaving, Sophie tightly grasped the hem of her dress so strong that her hands whitened. She was irritated at her present situation.


''---Nothing is done yet. I must bear it for now.''

She eagerly persuaded herself. If possible, she wanted to cut off this annoying chain and escape. Although her {{furigana|Dragonic Tool|Viralt}}, Light Flower was not in her hands now, if she as the owner strongly wished it, she could also make it to appear in her hands right away.

She knew well how awful Elliot's army marching and camping were. After being taken down from the ship, Sophie was put on a shabby door (panel) with both arms being tied with a chain, and was transported up to here (so far).

It would not be difficult for her to escape, if she felt like it, but there were two reasons why she did not do so. One was, like Elliot had also said, the existence of hostages, who were held in the Capital of Asvarre.

If she escaped on her own, that pirate Prince would kill them without hesitation. Even if it became a problem in the future, there were pawns called pirates, who would force all the responsibility onto him.

The other reason was that Sophie was not familiar with the geography of this area. Although she investigated in detail about Asvarre Main Island before her departure (from Zchted), partly because they were running out of time, she did not investigate the continental territory much.

By walking along the highway, the chance to be found would be high. On the other hand, by walking on the mountains or in the forest, there would be the danger of an accident. For a woman walking alone (by herself), what was the most frightening was not only beasts or bandits. Besides, she had also accumulated fatigue in her prisoner life. There was no confidence to escape to a safe place.


“It saves me to think that there’s still hope ……”

From the conversation exchanged between the pirates on the way when she was transported, and from the fragments of idle talk she heard in the tent, Sophie had roughly grasped the current situation. There was the fact that Elliot's army and Tallard's army would clash in a few days.

Elliot's defeat would be desirable, but even if he won, there would probably be some kind of change. Moreover, even when the messenger of Muozinel would come to take her, she might find an opportunity to defuse this situation.

As Sophie was lying down, she rounded her back as to protect herself. By taking a rest, her fatigue could be relieved even if a little and she had to recover her physical strength.

''---Speaking of which.''

Sophie suddenly remembered the words of Elliot, when he left this tent. A bow user of three hundred Alsins. She was wondering the meaning of a bow user, who could shoot an arrow at 300 Alsins. If it was right, she was familiar with someone capable of such a feat.

The face of a youth with darkish red hair born in Brune flashed into her head.

''---It can’t be, right……? It’s Asvarre here. There’s no reason for that child to be here.''

As the day sank, Sophie quietly fell asleep.

<noinclude>

==References==
<references />

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| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume_07_Chapter_2|Chapter 2]]
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</noinclude>

Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume01 Prologue

2017-02-24T05:43:48Z

An Orange Peon:

The tip of the longsword was thrust forward.

The one bearing the sword was a beautiful girl. With silver-coloured hair that stretched all the way to her waist, she looked down at the youth from the top of her horse.

"Throw aside your bow."

The youth obediently complied, placing the bow that he held in his hands on the ground.

He did not feel like resisting. His arrows were exhausted.

In their surroundings were countless corpses lying on the ground. Broken swords, spears that protruded from the ground like tombstones, and the wind that carried the thick smell of blood.

"I am Eleonora Viltaria. And you are?"

As if blowing away the smell of blood, the girl's refreshing voice resounded.

She was dignified, and despite that she possessed a radiance in those curious crimson eyes.

The youth answered her question, mesmerized.

"... Tigrevurmud Vorn."

After asking him several questions, she sheathed her sword in the scabbard at her waist, satisfied.

And then she smiled sweetly to the youth.

"From now on, you belong to me."

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| Forward to [[Madan_no_Ou_to_Vanadis:Volume01_Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
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</noinclude>