Editing MaruMA:Volume 8 Chapter 1

== Chapter 1 ==
Conrad smiled pleasantly. He just stood there while I clutched his lapel.

"It’s been a long time, Your Majesty."

"Please go away from him," standing a few steps behind us, Yozak said in a low voice. "He's the third competitor."

"Why are you wearing those clothes? What are you doing here?" The yellow-white uniform did not suit him at all.

"This has always been my country," Conrad said casually as if it was an irrelevant matter. Narrowing his eyes, brown with silver speckles, he added. "My ancestors once ruled over this land."

"Ancestors? Rulers? You're talking as if they used to be the kings or presidents of this land."

"Sort of."

"But..."

I could never remember historical facts. I felt dizzy. To avoid toppling over, I pressed my right hand against my forehead. I could feel the heat of my body through the layer of snow and mud covering my palm.

"But isn't your home on the other side of the ocean?" I asked. "Aren't you from the Demon Empire, just like me? Why did you come here? And why are you fighting for the other team?"

"My deepest apologies. Circumstances have changed a little."

I had been terribly worried about his disappearance, and now he suddenly showed up right front of me as my enemy. I did not know what horrible circumstances could have caused this, and I would never accept that vague answer as an explanation.

"Circumstances? What circumstances? Aren’t you going to explain them to me? Explain them to me now!"

"You also have a lot to explain to me," Conrad said, his fingers moving toward my wrist.

Right at that moment, Yozak put his arms around my waist and chest and pulled me backward at breakneck-speed.

"Stop! Wait! Hey!"

Yozak's rough treatment confused me for a moment, I couldn’t decide who was friend or foe. Lord Weller forced a smile, and shifted his gaze alternately between me and his friend.

"What does the mask in your hand mean?" He asked. "And why do you fight for Caloria? Aren't you meddling a little too much in other people's affairs?"

"Don't mind what I'm doing. Rather you should explain to me why you are wearing these flashy clothes. You look totally stupid in it, you know that? You should take them off! Right now!"

My blood pressure soared, adrenaline bubbled over, and against my will my legs began to shake. I could not help it. Even though I kept repeating to myself "Calm down!" over and over again like a mantra, as I always did when the game became tense, it still didn't help.

"Your Majesty! Come back," Yozak told me. "We should go back and discuss this with His Eminence. Do you want to risk us being disqualified?"

Still holding me, he tried to drag me to our bench. As for the referees, since they did not know what was going on between us, they must be thinking we were acting very aggressively.

"Yozak," said Conrad. "This is entirely your fault."

The hand holding me shook lightly.

"You have been attending to His Majesty, how could you let him get into such danger?"

"Oh, I'm so so sorry about that," Yozak sarcastically dragged out his words. "If our captain was with us, His Majesty surely would have had a much safer journey. But unfortunately, unfortunately, he decided to be irresponsible and suddenly disappeared."

"I had really expected that we wouldn’t need to engage in a third match, if you had put all your effort into the match with Adalbert."

Conrad hinted that Yozak should have defeated Adalbert. Did it mean that the enemy camp wasn’t aware of the situation regarding Flynn and Maxine? It didn’t sound like he was just testing the waters either.

"What does this little game mean exactly?" asked Conrad.

"That was only because I..."

"Your Majesty, there is no need to speak to this guy," interrupted Yozak. "He is our enemy."

"But Conrad can't be our enemy," I cried with bewilderment.

Conrad ignored my reaction and suddenly raised his voice. "Will Caloria’s fighters withdraw from the final match?"

It was intended for the referees.

"If you intend to enter the third match, please step up immediately. If not, please prove yourselves gracious losers, and accept your defeat."

His words were so provoking I found it hard to keep control of my temper. I had to swallow several times in an effort to calm myself. No matter what, exploding here would not get me anywhere. I desperately tried to speak in a soft tone.

"If I win, will you take that uniform off?" I asked Conrad. "And come back to us?"

Conrad touched the white trim of his collar with his left hand. Seeing that my question had gotten a reaction from him, I felt somewhat more confident.

"If I win, you will return to my side!? Right!? Please don’t join those traitors… will you come back to me!?"

"Well..."

Lord Weller shook his head slowly.

"You are not necessarily the best leader."

My vision began to flicker, as if I were viewing scenes from a very low quality videotape.





With trembling fingers, Cecilie readjusted her grip on the binoculars to keep it steady and looked at the scene below her again.

The same figure reflected in her shining green eyes.

"What does that mean...?"

She gave the binoculars to the new friend next to her.

"What happened?”

From the tall VIP seats behind the glass windows, Flynn Gilbert looked through the binoculars and saw Yuuri being pulled back on the gray dirty snow toward their rest area. And the one pulling him was none other than Yozak, with a mystifying expression on his face.

Flynn slightly raised the binoculars and focused at the center of the arena. She saw the third man from the opposing team standing next to the slightly puzzled looking referees.

If his appearance was at all an indication of his character, he seemed at first glance a kind and calm fellow. But his expression could be nothing more than a deliberately made up facade. Behind his unfathomable disguise, he could be hiding terrible secrets. Flynn had gained this sharp sense of intuition from her knowledge of soldiers. Because of her father’s military-related profession, from an early age Flynn had seen countless soldiers. She could not only recognize the strength of a fighter, but also sense his hidden secrets. The most incomprehensible ones for her were those who, even though not warriors, had formidable power.

Like him.

She shook her short silver hair, as if to shake off a name that had suddenly reappeared in her mind. She readjusted the grip around the binoculars and looked at the fighter from the opposing side again.

His posture was perfect. The way he moved his arms showed that he was accustomed to using weapons. He was slightly taller than average, with a body of a well-trained soldier. Although he looked about 20 or so, his hand, leisurely gripping the hilt of the sword hanging at his waist, showed no sign of tension, even at the beginning of the match. He had light brown hair and eyes. Apart from his short haircut, he looked just like a typical Shimaron citizen, at least more so than the blond soldier. The other man who earlier accompanied Maxine looked strikingly different from the other Shimaron soldiers.

"Who is that man? Do you know him?" asked Flynn.

"He is my son," Lady Cecilie replied.

What?

For a moment Flynn thought she could detect a trace of sorrow in Cecilie's voice. But Lady Cherie immediately regained her calm and noble composure.

"He is the best swordsman in our country. He has sworn allegiance to our new king, and his loyalty is deeper than any other. Why he is here fighting for the enemy… more so against his beloved king… is beyond me. If this is our Original King’s wish… he is putting that child through too much suffering."

"He is... your son?"

Flynn's eyes turned back on the beautiful aristocratic lady sitting next to her. She seemed far too young to have an already grown up son.

"Yes, he’s Conrad, my second son."

And her second child at that! Had she married very young? Or maybe she looked much younger than her actual age?

The rumor was probably true then. Flynn had heard that demons had a much longer life expectancy than humans. She must be an aristocrat from the empire of the demons, the enemy of the human race. Not only Cherie, but also the Captain and his friends, as well as his blond fiancé who inherited his mother’s looks, they were all demons. Even Dacascos and Sizemore, who had been nothing but respectful to her.

In hindsight, everything made perfect sense. The Captain for example, could not be human. Someone with such terrible power could never be an ordinary person. Yes, he must be a demon. She just hadn’t been willing to admit it.

But then, could the young man waiting in the middle of the arena also be a demon?

Flynn couldn’t bear not knowing. She made up her mind to find out.

"Compared to Lord Wolfram, this gentleman is a bit - how shall I say - he does not resemble you very much," she said cautiously.

"His father was a human, a traveling swordsman who was exiled from his home. His name was Dan Hille Weller, and..."

"Dan Hille?" Flynn squeaked. "Are you saying that, that your son... is the son of Dan Hille Weller?"

"Yes, that’s right. Lord Conrad Weller is my son."

No wonder he looked like a Shimaron soldier. His father belonged to the family who originally established this region, whose name could still be found in the history books.

Flynn Gilbert pressed her fingers against her lips. Her fingers felt much colder as the blood in her body suddenly drained to her feet. Names swirled through her brain in a muddle.

From the bottom of her heart, she hoped what she had done would never be revealed, not before her own death.





After Yozak dragged me back, I struck against the wall and screamed out my frustration. My mind was in a complete daze and I could hardly control myself.

"Damn, what is it? Why is he acting this way?" I yelled.

Our high spirits from earlier were gone. Instead, a stifling atmosphere came upon our group and threatened to overwhelm us. Suddenly there was a deafening clatter. A bucket had tipped over. I finally found a suitable target to vent my anger. I kicked the bucket until it was totally dented.

"He was brainwashed! He was manipulated! That's the only explanation! After all, the handsome American footballer was there with him!"

"Yuuri..."

"He's an expert when it comes to messing around with other people's heads. What was it called again? Soul searching? Exactly! He has actually searched and..."

"Yuuri! Stop harassing the bucket. I can’t concentrate," Wolfram grumbled. He was sitting on the bench with his eyes slightly closed and his arms folded. His fingers fidgeted slightly as he sank deep in thought.

Like a wild animal in a cage, I marched back and forth restlessly.

"It’s obvious, he is being manipulated. He would never betray me otherwise."

Murata desperately tried to smooth out the wrinkles between his eyebrows.

"As far as I can judge the situation, it does not look like Conrad is being manipulated," he said finally. "And haven't you said he has lost his left arm?"

Murata was right.

This Conrad who was in front of us just now had both of his arms. His hand was warm when I had touched it. It had not felt like a prosthesis.

But I still remembered clearly what happened on that horrible day.

I could still hear the ominous sound of flesh smashing on the ground, as Conrad lost his arm. The fingers were slightly curved, as if trying to grasp something. No drop of blood though. Could it be the arm that fell on the floor that day a prosthesis instead?

At that time, even though all I could see was his silhouette against the light, I did notice there was nothing where his left arm was.

"I also believe he lost his left arm," Wolfram confirmed. "I've seen it with my own eyes. I still have the button on his sleeve."

He put his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out the button. Its original milk-white color was blackened by soot and extreme heat. My hand trembled as I reached out for it.

"I remember this… It's the button on his shirt sleeve, isn't it?" I asked.

"That's right."

Murata thought.

"If so, Lord Weller's left arm must still be in the castle, right? We’ve also seen his arm when we were in Small Shimaron. But the Conrad who appears here clearly has both arms. Where were we fooled?"

"Fooled?"

"There are only the following possibilities. One: from the beginning his arm was a prosthesis. Two: his arm has grown back."

"Regenerating arms? Is Conrad a mutant?"

After a long time walking around, Murata finally came to lean against the wall next to the door. He raised his finger in a motion to push up his glasses, only he wasn’t wearing any glasses.

"Or three: the man over there is not the real Lord Weller."

"You’re saying that’s an impostor? No, that's impossible. You said you have seen him even before you were born, then you should be able to recognize him. He's the real one, Murata. You can bet on it."

"How can you be so sure?"

What a silly question!

"There is absolutely no way I could mistake Conrad for someone else."

Wolfram's jaw muscles moved almost imperceptibly.

"I agree. That guy is my brother."

Brother? Did he just say "brother"?

Although he is normally very composed, sometimes he would say things so surprising that I almost get a heart attack.

"Then I'm even more confused as to why he has sided with our enemy. It’s true he’s half-human, but he has sworn to live his life as a demon and stay loyal to the demon tribe. He is also not the type who betrays his demonic origins out of personal grudge like Adalbert. Even though he had to bear much injustice twenty years ago, there is no reason why he would suddenly turn hostile to Yuri now. But the biggest mystery is what has happened to his arm."

"Exactly. His arm was cut off by the soldiers from Big Shimaron. The same people who shot at Gunter. Even if this is the land where his father came from, the land of his ancestors, given what has happened, it’s difficult to believe he would serve Big Shimaron. The only possibility is that he has been brainwashed and manipulated!"

The emotional turmoil of seeing him again had turned into rage.

"I’ll wake him up!"

I gripped the weapon I had chosen and began to climb into the arena again, but my knees were shaking.

"I’ll bring him back to his senses!"

Wolfram grabbed my arm.

"No, Yuri. You know very well that you can't win against him in a fight. He is unlikely to harm you, but who knows... if he indeed can’t control his own actions... You definitely need to stay here. It's too dangerous."

"Too dangerous? Does it matter?! If he’s forced to obey them, shouldn’t we free him? If Conrad is in fact manipulated, I must put an end to that at once! He's..."

"I doubt he is actually manipulated..." said Yozak, who had been silent until now. "I've looked him straight in the eyes and I’ve spoken to him. I didn’t feel that he is not his own master. Ah, I’m sorry Your Majesty! It’s just my personal opinion…"

Yozak sounded like he was apologizing to me. Perhaps he thought I was angry, or maybe I looked like I was about to cry. But I tried hard to remain in control.

"You mean he has betrayed us intentionally and voluntarily?"

"That’s not what I meant."

"How can you say such a terrible thing? You are brothers in arms, comrades in life and death, who trust each other unconditionally! Didn't you even say you would absolutely serve under his command again?"

Of course, these two things were unrelated.

If I was in danger, then even if the enemy was his own family or friend, Yozak would draw his sword without hesitation, because it was his duty. Yozak Gurrier’s allegiance was not towards Lord Weller, but towards the 27th Demon King of the Empire of the Demons. He must foremost protect his king and obey his orders.

And the king was no one else but me.

Just as the people had obligations toward their king, the king also had responsibilities towards his subjects.

I had my own responsibilities.

"I don’t believe I can’t win him back!"

I must bring him back to our side. He had sworn to live his life as a demon, not because of his blood, but his faith in the demon tribe.

"I must have faith!"

Murata turned to Yozak again.

"Since you were childhood playmates, I will trust your intuition."

Yozak put his hand on the ax on his side and stroked the handle.

"No matter how I look at it, it didn't seem to me like he was controlled by someone else."

"Right," said Murata. "I’d feel better if that were the case... Shame, really! If only I had a mortar with pestle and sesame seeds now!"

"What, what? You’ll use sesame seeds to perform magic?"

"No, not magic. Just that I find it easier to calm my mind and concentrate when I grind things like sesame seeds."

I couldn’t help imagining the venerable Sage grinding a great variety of ingredients into powder in order to eliminate distractions.

"Well, concentration is most important, right?"

Really, I could not understand the way geniuses do things. Anyway, it shouldn’t be a problem that he had no mortar and pestle now, right?

"I think we should trust Yozak's assessment. After all, among the four of us, he knows Conrad the best. And if his will is indeed not tampered with, he will not take your life. You will be injured somewhat, but it wouldn't be serious. So, we can take our chance and let our king represent us in our next match."

Murata looked over my shoulder at my opponent.

"Anyway, no matter what we say, you won't give up on him until you have tried your best, right, Shibuya?"

"Absolutely correct, Sir," I said, turned my back to my friends who had resigned themselves, and stomped off.

Conrad received me with the same smile in the middle of the arena. What? Even though we aren’t on the same side.

"You really don't make it easy for me. So you have no intentions of withdrawing from the match?"

"Absolutely not. I’m determined to bring you back to your senses."

"Oh, my goodness."

Conrad glanced over my equipment. It didn't look very threatening, but it was the king of baseball bats.

"If you hit hard, that club could split my skull," he said.

"That's right. And if you drive me into a corner, I will not shy away from using all my force to hit you between your legs. That's just a little warning."

Conrad briefly lifted his eyebrows as if he had experienced such attacks before. But his usual expression returned immediately.

"Don't worry, I'll go easy on you," he said.

"I know! But I don’t need that. Let’s get it over with here and now... What?"

His comment made me so surprised I was in doubt if I had heard him correctly. I couldn’t help lifting my head up and asked:

"What did you just say?"

"You didn’t hear me? I said I would go easy on you."

He would go easy on me, he would go easy on me… these words kept swirling in my mind. Before a decisive battle, who would assure leniency to their enemy? Shouldn’t he have said the typical line "Don’t expect any mercy from me"?

Right now the opponent in front of me was my own trusted guardian, who had been by my side through life and death. I had been worried about him, I had cried for him, but I had never thought that when we met again, he would be wearing our enemy’s uniform, and we would be fighting against each other. Indifferent to our special connection and the deep trust that we had shared, the gong was now sounding the start of a brutal match between us.

"You’re not going to put all your efforts into this fight?"

"How could I? I can’t just let you get hurt, I wouldn’t be able to go home if I did, but I can’t let you win either. After all, I’m here representing Big Shimaron."

I felt like a big idiot for holding on to the hope that he would come back to my side. At the same time, my eagerness was pitiable. In any case, these feelings reminded me once more that Lord Weller had become my enemy.

He, wearing the yellow and white uniform, was the representative of Big Shimaron. I, with the silver mask of Morgan Gilbert in my hand, was the representative from Caloria.

And yet I missed him so much?

"At least you’re still alive…"

Looking up, I corrected my grip on the weapon. It was very much similar to a baseball bat, and my hands had adjusted perfectly to the handle.

"In any case, I am glad to see you alive and well," I said softly.

"Your Majesty..."

"Do not call me Your Majesty. It’s you who gave me my name!"

I heard that familiar “That is true,” but it was interrupted by a loud belligerent voice shouting at us.

"Hold on! Cancel this match immediately!"

Even though I wasn’t familiar with the rules of this competition, I had never thought someone would ask the referees to cancel the match right before it started.

From the enemy’s bench, a muscular man with a huge sword stepped out and walked toward us. The light from the torches around the arena reflected on his shiny steel weapon menacingly.

"Adalbert!"

With bright blonde hair, turquoise eyes, high and beak nose, and of course, cleft chin, Adalbert von Grantz looked like a handsome American footballer. He hated the demons and wanted nothing more than for the empire of the demons to collapse. With a malicious smile on his face, he slowly approached us. With every step he took, the audience's excitement rose. The winner of the second round had come back. The crowd raised their fists to the sky and stomped their feet wildly.

"I object to this match! This isn’t a one-on-one competition. It’s a tournament!" Adalbert shouted, and the audience roared in response.

Adalbert turned toward the referees.

"If it’s a tournament, then the winner of the second round has the right to compete against the third competitor from the other team, right?"

The two referees nodded.

"That’s right, the winner of the second round has the right to compete again in the next match."

Wait a minute! The winner of the second round was not Yozak, but Adalbert. And the third competitor from the other team was none other than myself! Damn! I would have to fight against Adalbert? Well, that was one problem we hadn’t expected!