Editing Tytania:Volume 5 Chapter 5 (section)

== Chapter 5 – Group Portrait of Rebels ==
=== I ===
Tytania’s greatest battleship, the ''Black Prince'', might have been more appropriately named the “Black Moby Dick<ref name="ftn13">“Black whale” (黒鯨) is pronounced “black Moby Dick”.</ref>” given its true nature. A demonic beast that had leapt into a sea of war where good and evil could not be defined, devouring all manner of animate and inanimate life, repelling every desperate attempt at resistance and continuing its slaughter and destruction at will. Acting entirely upon its own volition, it unleashed its main and secondary batteries to their full extent, burying both friend and foe within a tidal wave of energy.

The being inhabiting the brain of this magical beast was a youth who wasn’t even twenty years of age, yet he appeared less like a young nobleman of the Tytania Clan and more like the complete embodiment of human destructive impulses made flesh. Even from the perspective of his allies, this held true. No, in an absolute sense, he had no allies; they were only the “vassals” he forced into submission.

Conversely, what was the situation at Uraniborg?

Sweat trickled down Vice-Admiral Ridenhour’s forehead. His resilient mind and body, which had endured forty years of rigorous military service, were reaching their limit after only a single day of combat.

“Our forces still hold the advantage. Furthermore, Duke Ariabert is no longer present. If we can drag this into a war of attrition, we can hope for the situation to turn for the better.”

The name of Ariabert slipping from his lips was the seasoned officer’s small, desperate attempt to maintain his sanity. What was unfolding before his eyes was nothing so grand as a pitched battle. It was merely a slaughter, devoid of any tactical meaning or military doctrine.

The ''Black Prince'', which ought to have been traversing the astral sea leading the Tytania grand fleet in all its majesty, had been transformed into a ferocious carnivorous dinosaur, devouring everything in its path. There was not a shred of dignity left in its form.

Even the onlookers and outlaws, who had been content to observe from their safe heights, were on the verge of falling into a bottomless pit of dread. The destroyer’s fangs might descend, ignoring all strategic significance or tactical necessity. Even so, the pirates aboard the ''Honest Old Man Junior'' remained insolent.

“The AJ Alliance forces are doing quite well for themselves even without the A.”

“Of course. Why do you think I sent H in?”

“If Duke Ariabert had been here, this battle might have been a little more sophisticated. As it is, it’s nothing more than a scrap between wildcats.”

Pagès spat these words out venomously.

“That was exactly what I thought would happen,” replied Doctor Lee, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Hyulick was a man who could not demonstrate his true worth unless driven into a corner. His formations, tactics, and chain of command were non-existent. It was only amidst melee, confusion, rampaging, and total chaos that Hyulick truly excelled. The Doctor’s intention had been to observe how the battle for Uraniborg would shift by deploying the Hyulick element onto the battlefield equipped with a tracking device. However, the universe was vast, and an even more irrational commander than Hyulick had appeared, furthermore an inhumane one who was currently in the process of destroying the stage itself.

“Enemy ship at ten o’clock, coming in for a breach!”

“Clean them up quickly; the secondary batteries will suffice.”

“Five o’clock, enemy approaching at maximum combat speed!”

“Clean them up.”

Radmoth’s orders were the very definition of brevity. Should he eventually achieve final victory, he might even inspire a proverb such as, ‘A hero does not concern himself with trivialities’. For now, however, they were merely crude and irresponsible.

A small but unmistakable vibration shook the bridge. One of the navigation officers cried out, his voice cracking.

“Damage to the port side! An enemy vessel has collided with us at maximum combat speed!”

“Collided?”

Radmoth glared at the sensor officer with eyes that belied his age. His overwhelming gaze sent a shiver through the officer.

At Uraniborg, Idris sat in the command centre, tapping his palm against the surface of the desk.

“This is laughable. Has Jouslain decided to switch careers to become a comedian? Does he truly believe he can crush the ''Black Prince'' with a ramming tactic? How amusing. By all means, give it a try.”

Idris burst into loud laughter, yet the eyes watching him seemed to hold an ominous undertone.

Meanwhile, on the bridge of the ''Austra'', Jouslain could not hide the look of anguish on his face.

“Captain Fredericks.”

“Understood.”

“I feel terrible for you. To use a vessel as if it were nothing more than a mere bullet to hurl at the ''Black Prince''…”

''… was something Ariabert would never have done. ''Jouslain nearly swallowed these words as he thought them. Captain Edna Fredericks merely offered a silent bow in response.

All around Uraniborg, centred on the ''Black Prince'', the fires of war expanded and order began to collapse. No one was able to envision what the world would look like a mere five minutes from then.

Idris laughed, his voice drier than a midsummer desert.

“It is unlikely that Jouslain will suddenly receive some divine revelation and transform into a military genius. If that were the case, the staff officers left behind by Ariabert would likely devise a conventional strategy. It might be quite entertaining to see whether common sense can triumph over the extraordinary.”

Regardless of whether Jouslain’s fleet or Radmoth’s ''Black Prince'' emerged victorious, both would ultimately remain Idris’ enemies. If the two sides fought to the death and destroyed one another, Idris would be able to reap the rewards of the struggle.

“If victory was always ensured by following a computer-generated plan, human commanders would be entirely unnecessary.”

Miranda was right. At any rate, compared to the forces of Uraniborg, who stood in shock at the reckless actions of their supposed ally, the ''Black Prince'', Jouslain’s side, after adopting a ramming tactic, was still managing to maintain what could at least be called a battle.

“Suppression fire! Do not let the ''Black Prince'' fire its rear secondary batteries!”

Captain Fredericks’ voice was fierce.

“Concentrate fire! Concentrate! Concentrate!!”

The orders were thorough, even relentless.

The rear secondary battery of the ''Black Prince'' had its energy shutters breached and its armour torn asunder, until finally, a single gun exploded, scattering blue and white light. That became the first breach, and the radiance of destruction stretched outwards like a serpent to the left and right. New orbs of light were spawned, growing instantly to strip away the surrounding armour and sweep away the gun turrets.

Part of the light breached the interior of the ship and bonded with oxygen molecules, racing through the corridors as scorching gas. Amidst horrific screams, a scarlet haze filled the space.

The crew of the ''Black Prince'' should have been composed of elites, yet they were thrown into great disarray after Radmoth had ordered the cannons to be aimed at Uraniborg. As one soldier attempted to leap onto a docked fighter, another questioned him.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going!?”

“It’s none of your business where I go.”

“So, you intend to desert.”

“And what if I do?”

“And you call yourself a Tytanian soldier? Have some sense of shame!”

The soldier who was shouted at showed no sign of remorse.

“Hmph. The ones who should be ashamed are the high command.”

“What did you say!?”

“My younger brother was assigned to Duke Ariabert’s fleet. I don’t know if he is alive or dead. If I remain aboard the ''Black Prince'', not only will my life or death become uncertain, but I’ll become a rebel that attacked Uraniborg under Baron Radmoth’s orders.”

The person he was talking to was left speechless. It was true that if they continued to blindly obey Radmoth, they risked attacking Uraniborg and suffering the disgrace of being branded as traitors.

Uraniborg was home to over ten million residents and, above all, the Clanner, who was sacred and inviolable to the people of Tytania. To attempt an attack on such a place…

With the military strength of the ''Black Prince'', a temporary tactical victory might be possible. But if that happened, would Baron Radmoth become the new Clanner? That violent man, who lacked any popularity and was still merely a minor?

Tytania would be finished. It was far too foolish to be dragged into such a disaster.

In those three seconds, that was the conclusion he reached. He bellowed at the soldier who had begun to start the engine of the mounted craft.

“Fine, I’m coming with you!”

“Hurry up, we don’t have time to wait another five seconds!”

In that instant, a flash and a roar erupted, and both machine and human flesh vanished into flames. A charged particle cannon had been fired, treating the unauthorised departure as a desertion.




=== II ===
The fourth and fifth unmanned ships rammed into the ''Black Prince'', erupting in a dizzying light of explosions. Doctor Lee, who had been staring intently at the screen, muttered.

“This is beyond absurd.”

“Eh? What is?”

“The ''Black Prince'' has been rendered immobile. The fleet of Uraniborg is almost entirely annihilated. Duke Ariabert has perished, and the AJ Alliance forces have lost a third of their strength.”

“That’s terrible.”

Miranda shook her head.

“Tytania fighting against itself… a truly disgraceful sight.”

“That is the reality, Miranda. The military might of Tytania, which was once greater than any other nation in the universe, is now as good as nonexistent.”

Doctor Lee placed a hand to his chin, his expression turning pensive.

“It is the greatest instance of cannibalism in history. If someone devised this whole situation single-handedly, it would be a terrifying mastermind.”

“Doctor Lee, are you talking about yourself?”

The Doctor responded with a dismissive smile.

“That is the greatest overestimation in history. Duke Ariabert was a top-tier commander of the highest order. Duke Zarlisch was an unparalleled ruthless general. Fan Hyulick was, if one were to be complimentary, a master of unpredictable stratagems—wait no, I shouldn’t use the past tense here. Anyway, each of these three had their own complicated history with one another, but not a single one of them could have inflicted this much damage and disgrace upon Tytania.”

The beams of light invading the ship from the screen created a contrast of light and shadow, much like ancient monochrome footage. While possibly thousands of lives were extinguished every time the shadows shifted, no pirate aboard felt inclined to voice such sentimental opinions at that time.

Thanks to Captain Casimir’s exquisite manoeuvring, the ''Honest Old Man Junior'' sailed through the fringes of the vast battlefield almost entirely unscathed. At the same time, the ''Black Prince''’s utterly irrational ferocity in battle was throwing both armies into disarray. It was as if a pack of well-trained hounds were being tossed about by a single mad dog.

“I certainly wouldn’t want to fight someone like that.”

Miranda shrugged her shoulders, which were more robust than those of any ordinary man.

“I almost feel sorry for the Tytanians. If they were pirates, they’d just make a quick escape, but an army can’t do quite that easily.”

“The survivor pensions are going to be astronomical, aren’t they?”

After Mahdi made that remark so characteristic of himself, a question was directed back at him:

“Do you know what a snowman is, Mahdi?”

“Enough of that, Doctor. You’ve asked me that same question before.”

“Yes. So, how do you make one?”

“Well, first you make a small snowball, and then you roll it across the snow, and it keeps getting bigger and bigger. Eventually, you lose control of it, and it starts rolling off on its own in unexpected directions.”

The Doctor massaged his upper eyelid with his fingertip.

“The various incidents and chaos that have occurred in space over this past year were built up just like a snowman. Someone created a snowball filled with poison and malice, rolled it across the snow, and allowed it to grow rapidly.”

“That… surely you don’t mean Fan Hyulick, do you?”

“No, Seraphine. Whether by good fortune or bad, Hyulick was merely the catalyst. After that, he was simply caught up in it. He was merely used by someone’s hidden scheme.”

Perhaps to gather his thoughts, Doctor Lee fell silent, but he opened his mouth again shortly after.

“That individual was waiting patiently for the right moment to arrive. Consequently, he immediately used Hyulick to set his plan for the destruction of Tytania into motion.”

Everyone listened quietly to the Doctor’s “lecture”.

“After Duke Zarlisch died, the balance of power between the Four Dukes collapsed. I thought the remaining three dukes would enter a three-way struggle, but because two of them formed a strong alliance, it became a two-against-one situation. As the outcome of the conflict seemed poised to be decided early and threatened a soft landing, that individual schemed to have Duke Ariabert assassinated to restore the balance of conflict.”

The group listening to the lecture stared at Doctor Lee in collective shock. The image they had been vaguely imagining until then suddenly came into sharp focus.

“Anyway, I have finally identified the culprit. However, there is still something I cannot grasp regarding his motives… To reach a final conclusion, I must see it with my own eyes.”

Her voice raspy, Miranda asked:

“Doctor, you don’t mean…?”

He lowered the hand that had been rubbing his eyelids.

“Won’t you understand unless I explicitly say his name?”

As Doctor Lee looked around at his “students”, the one who was probably the most insensitive among them shouted.

“If you put it like that, of course we know! It’s the Clanner. Clanner Ajman himself is trying to destroy Tytania, though I don’t know why. Am I right, Doctor?”

“Yes, that is a passing grade, Mahdi.”

“If it is so, he shouldn’t have been the Clanner in the first place!”

“Are you saying he should have gently waited to let himself be purged?” asked Walenkov, as if seeking confirmation, while stroking his large head with his large palm. “In other words, you are saying the Clanner attempted to bring about the collapse of Tytania from the very top? The exact opposite of a normal ''coup''<ref name="ftn14">The expression used here is “inferiors overthrowing their superiors” (下克上).</ref>?”

“Well, to simplify it, it sums up pretty simply the general scheme.”

“Quite a long process of simplification,” complained Pagès. “Besides, I find it difficult to accept your reasoning, Doctor. If someone goes to great lengths to wield the power and cunning in order to rise to the position of Clanner, it would be only natural to attempt to maintain it. Am I wrong?”

“Ultimately, I suppose I could say in plain terms that he simply found himself disappointed once he arrived at the top.”

“If that were the case, he could have just retired of his own accord,” said Seraphine, stating her opinion.

“Even if Ajman himself were to retire, Tytania would remain.”

“He could just leave it be, couldn’t he?”

“You don’t understand, Miranda.”

“Ah, yeah, I just don’t get it. I don’t understand the psychology of the Clanner, and I don’t quite follow your analysis, Doctor. Perhaps we’re all far more ordinary than we thought.”

Doctor Lee responded to Miranda’s words with a look of rare exhaustion.

“Maybe so. If I had to state it plainly, I believe that Ajman wanted to rule over the cosmos, not as the Clanner of Tytania, but in his own right. I surmise that this is his struggle, at least for the time being.”

It was Mahdi, rather than Miranda, who reacted first to the Doctor’s explanation. With impressive dexterity, he let out a simultaneous click of his nose and tongue.

“Does the distinction even matter? He could have simply sat upon his throne and lived out comfortably. To me, Ajman’s worries are nothing more than the self-consciousness of a spoilt young rich brat.”

“Is it truly that simple? Knowing the Clanner, I suspect there might be something much deeper to it.”

“No, Mahdi has a point. Ajman’s perception is profoundly distorted. It is just that Mahdi’s linguistic skill in expressing it lacks some refinement.”

“Are you complimenting me? You’re not, aren’t you?”

“I have merely provided an objective evaluation.”

Doctor Lee rose from his seat, a self-deprecating smile playing upon his lips.

“Well then, isn’t it about time we made our departure? It will be difficult to know whether we shall make it in time for the final scene.”



“All batteries of the fortress guns aboard the ''Black Prince'' are to commence bombardment. Immediately. Delay won’t be tolerated.”

Idris issued the order within the command centre of Uraniborg. A silent stir ran through the officers.

“Are you certain this is acceptable, even without an order from His Clanner Highness?”

“We don’t have a choice.”

“D-Duke Idris…”

“Do it! I won’t repeat myself!”

There was a piercing intensity in Idris’ gaze, one that was difficult to meet directly.



“The hull has been breached…!”

Three minutes later, the reconnaissance officer of the ''Black Prince'' cried out. Had a direct hit from the fortress cannons of Uraniborg occurred, even the energy shutters and armour of the ''Black Prince'' would not have remained unscathed. A massive pillar of light had obliterated several allied ships of Uraniborg all at once and continued its trajectory to pierce straight into the hull of the ''Black Prince''.

The hull of the ''Black Prince'' had already been wounded by the successive ramming attacks launched by Jouslain’s forces. Dragons of flame raced through the ship’s interior, a thick scarlet haze hung in the air, and charred corpses lay heaped upon one another.

Amidst the carnage, Radmoth realised that gun barrels were being pointed at him from every direction. About twenty officers and soldiers with stiff expressions surrounded him, radiating an aura of resolve and hostility.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“We can’t follow you any longer.”

“Bastards, don’t you realise who you are addressing?”

“I understand very well. Radmoth Tytania, you are now our prisoner. Drop your weapons.”

A sinister light flickered in Radmoth’s eyes as he scanned the rebels. The moment his hand reached for the holster at his waist, one of the NCOs, who had been watching him without a moment’s lapse in vigilance, fired silently.




=== III ===
A thin flash of light pierced through Radmoth’s right hand like a needle. It went from his palm to the back of his hand. A thin stream of blood spurted from both sides. Radmoth grimaced. Red droplets scattered across the command desk. Without letting out a scream, Radmoth kicked his chair back and stood up.

“Seize him!”

Simultaneously with the cry, three officers lunged at Radmoth from the front and rear. Radmoth let out a roar of pain and fury. He threw one aside with his left hand and kicked another with his right leg. However, his struggle ended there. The third officer slammed the butt of a heat rifle into the back of Radmoth’s head.

He barely held back doing so. Radmoth let out a groan of agony and dropped to one knee on the floor. He attempted to support his weight with his right hand, but another officer stomped down upon the wound on the back of it, putting his entire weight into the blow.

At that same moment, a tremor shook the bridge. Before a report could even be given, an officer shouted:

“Another ramming attempt!”

“Location?”

“Probably the same place.”

The officers and soldiers exchanged glances. The enemy’s intention was clear. No matter how thick the armour, if a sword were thrust into the same spot more than ten times, one could not remain unscathed.

“No matter how we look at it, we can’t hold much longer. The lower half of the hull is going to be blown away. The myth of the unsinkable battleship is over.”

The officers struggled to endure the weight of the encroaching sense of defeat.

“Place Baron Radmoth in handcuffs. Then, send the following emergency transmission to Duke Idris: ''‘I surrender’''. We shall explain the situation after that.”

“To Duke Idris? Not to His Clanner Highness?”

“Exactly.”

“But if you do that, there is no telling how His Clanner Highness might react.”

“Don’t be a fool and think for a minute. Baron Radmoth received a royal decree from his Your Clanner Highness, and yet he went so far as to threaten Uraniborg. It was nothing less than an act of treason. We must first inform Duke Idris that we are loyal subjects of Tytania and then have him mediate our surrender.”

One minute later, Idris received the report.

“Transmission from the ''Black Prince'' incoming! It’s an emergency message.”

Idris gazed at the ''Black Prince'' on the screen. It was barely maintaining its majesty, appearing on the verge of collapse.

“Has that wretch Radmoth finally come crawling to us with his complaints? Very well, put him through.”

Idris was not in a position of leisure himself. Though he had straightened his collar in preparation for a war of words, the person who appeared on the communication screen was not his brother.

''“I have a matter I wish to report to His Ducal Grace Idris. I am Commander Corrientes.”''

Suppressing his surprise, Idris composed himself into an air of haughty indifference.

“What has happened to Baron Radmoth?”

''“We have taken him into custody.”''

“Into custody?”

''“While it may be disrespectful to Your Grace’s brother, we can no longer follow Baron Radmoth. With everyone’s consent, we have risen in revolt.”''

Idris suppressed a laugh. He himself was not quite sure what kind of laugh it was.

“Good, you have done well.”

''“Will you accept our surrender?”''

“To whom are you surrendering?” he asked back with a composed, feigned composure.

''“We are surrendering to Your Grace, Duke Idris.”''

“Not to His Clanner Highness?”

''“We pledge our loyalty to Your Grace, Duke Idris. We humbly pray that Your Grace will show us your mercy and accept our submission.”''

Flashes of thought crossed Idris’ mind.

How should he answer? Yes or no?

If he answered yes, he would be criticised for acting “without the Clanner’s permission.” If he responded with no, he would invite their disappointment and could not rule out the possibility of turning the ''Black Prince'' against him once again.

His decision was made. He could no longer bear the struggle of trying to divine the Clanner’s intentions.

“Very well, I shall accept your loyalty.”

''“We are deeply grateful. We shall depart for our return journey now, so please bear with us for a short while.”''

A single decision, without a moment’s delay, demanded a new one. If the Clanner began to ponder whether to approve Idris’ treatment, there would be no end to it. He could simply dispose of Radmoth and then provide a post-facto report, pointing out that it was the Clanner himself who had entrusted the command of the ''Black Prince'' to Radmoth. After all, since Radmoth was the one who had ordered the shelling of Uraniborg, the responsibility for the appointment lay with the Clanner.

“I had thought he was utterly useless, but he might just serve as a trump card.”

However, caution was still necessary.

“So, Radmoth is alive. Put him on the screen.”

There was a fleeting thought that he might be covered in blood, but when Radmoth was brought before the communication screen, he was almost unscathed, save for electromagnetic handcuffs on both wrists and a bandage wrapped around his right hand. Surprisingly, it was Radmoth who spoke first.

''“Idris, Brother, you haven’t once praised me since I was old enough to understand words.”''

“What childish resentment is this? If you had done at least something worthy of praise, then it would have been a simple matter.”

''“Hmph, as I thought, you still don’t understand. That’s not what I meant.”''

“Then what did you mean?”

A small tremor of unease stirred within Idris’ chest.

''“You have never praised me, Brother. But look at the current situation. Have you not been driven into a corner because of me?”''

“C-can this even be called being driven into a corner?”

Idris coughed slightly, overcome by indignation.

''“Brother, when it comes to making excuses, I’m not your match. I’ll admit that much. What I am trying to say is that if I were someone worthy of your praise, then it would have been me, not you, attending the Council of Five Families.”''

“…”

When he understood the full weight of his brother’s outburst, Idris’ mind was momentarily shrouded in a thick, white fog. It was certainly as Radmoth had said. He had thought of him as nothing more than a coarse, reckless, and unworthy younger brother, but how had reality proven to be? He had suffered a complete defeat against Ariabert, had struggled against enemies who thrived in Ariabert’s absence, and had ultimately allowed the ''Black Prince'' to roam unchecked.

''“It seems you finally understand, Brother.”''

“… Bastard.”

That low groan was the greatest effort Idris could muster to maintain his dignity. Once he had steadied his breathing, he issued a series of rapid-fire commands.

“The ''Black Prince'' is to stand down from battle formation and return to base immediately. Baron Radmoth is to report to me at once. I guarantee immunity for everyone from the captain downwards, so all are to disembark and await orders. Let this be executed without delay!”

Decisions born of passion often lead to unexpected consequences. One such instance occurred through the screen, within Idris’ field of vision.

Even with his hands bound in irons, Radmoth’s arms swung like a whirlwind. The officer who had been pointing a gun at him was struck squarely in the face, recoiling without a sound. Blood from his nose and a broken front tooth sprayed into the air before falling to the floor. Even faster, a second officer was kicked in the abdomen and collapsed to the floor, spinning as he fell.

Yet, as his elder brother Idris had coldly observed, Radmoth had never been anything else than a pale imitation of the late Zarlisch. At least, when it came to hand-to-hand combat.

The moment he slammed both fists into the third soldier’s face and spun around, a gunshot rang out. Amidst the succession of overlapping shots, four titanium rounds struck Radmoth’s body. His left ear was blown away, and holes were punched just below his right collarbone, his left abdomen, and his left femoral artery.

Through the screen, Idris watched his unloved brother receive these fatal wounds. He did not move to stop it; he simply looked on with indifference.

A bloodstained, dark grin spread across Radmoth’s face. Slumped on the floor, wearing a macabre smile, Radmoth forced his lips to move one last time.

''“… Just once, I wanted to see your crying face turn pale with grief as I overtook you… I was so close… Wasn’t I…?”''

Radmoth slumped completely to the floor, sliding downwards. It was the final movement of his life.

The soldiers who had shot him averted their eyes in a daze.

''“D-do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve murdered a Tytania noble!”''

''“What do I care? We’re going to die anyway. At this rate, we’ll be caught in a pincer between Uraniborg and Duke Jouslain’s fleet…”''

''“Shut up!”''

The one who barked the command was Commander Corrientes. He directed a pleading look toward Idris, his face resembling that of a dead man.

''“Regarding your younger brother, I beg for your forgiveness. There was no other way.”''

Before Idris could even respond, an alarm began to blare throughout the hull of the ''Black Prince''. Upon hearing it, Commander Corrientes’ complexion turned as deathly as the deceased.

The lithium-hydrogen reactor had begun to run out of control.

The system, designed to control the reactor through five redundant layers both manually and automatically, had lost all control, with no one left to halt or correct it. The reactor was situated in close proximity to the heavily damaged section of the massive ship.

Throughout human history, claims made by profit-seekers like “these reactors will never fail” or “that ship is one hundred per cent unsinkable” had all proven to be lies, and the ''Black Prince'' was no exception. Jouslain’s relentless, concentrated assault had inflicted cunning damage upon the belly of the supposedly unsinkable behemoth. Had it been a fleet of ordinary battleships, fifty of them would have been utterly destroyed. Instead, the immense energy had carved wounds deep within the bowels of the ''Black Prince'', dealing a blow that remained invisible from the outside.

Before there was even time to issue orders to evacuate, in a moment of pure terror, the ''Black Prince'' exploded.

The massive mass transformed into a tornado of energy and billions of fragments, raining down upon the outer shell of Uraniborg, battering it and cracking it, triggering new, smaller explosions.

Every inhabitant of Uraniborg let out a scream in their hearts, and half of them acted upon it with their bodies. The outer shell of Uraniborg was subjected to vibrations that were also from within.

“This is the end!”

“Uraniborg is falling!”

“How can such a thing be allowed to happen?”

It should not have been a matter of good or evil, yet no one stopped to notice or to condemn. The crowd reached the height of panic; they paid no heed to tear gas or rubber bullets as they surged towards the security forces. Orders to use live ammunition were issued in some quarters, and the echoes of gunfire rang out. The shots were immediately swallowed by the crowd, and countless boots trampled over the fallen bodies.




=== IV ===
Idris stood before the screen, staring in a daze. The hysterical voices of the reports reached his ears.

“The ''Black Prince'' has exploded…!”

“You don’t need to tell me!”

What burnt into Idris’ retinas were not images but words. The word “destruction”. The two-hundred-year history of Tytania, which had dominated the universe and reigned over humanity, was coming to an end in the most violent and pathetic manner possible.

The immense military might of the ''Black Prince'' and the ensuing catastrophe had become things of the past. However, the chaos continued to expand and multiply. On the battlefield, both friend and foe were so struck by shock that they forgot the combat right before their eyes; there were even sectors where the gunfire had ceased altogether.

In the residential district of Uraniborg, terror and panic overflowed amidst a complete lack of understanding. People collided with one another and came to blows. The warning shots fired by the security forces had long since lost their effectiveness, and horizontal volleys of tear gas and rubber bullets had begun. Blood flowed across the polished streets, the elderly and infants collapsed, trampled by citizens who had become like frenzied herbivores, and a torrent of screams filled the air.

Idris was being forced to make several decisions simultaneously. When he turned towards the communications officer, intending first to deal with the tragedy in the residential district, he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

The orange uniforms, somewhat excessive in their ornamentation with feathered military caps and gold braid, were those of the Clanner’s personal guard.

“Your Grace Idris, by order of His Clanner Highness, we must place you under arrest.”

“And the reason?”

“Treason against His Clanner Highness.”

“That is rather abstract.”

Facing the barrel of a gun, Idris was able to step back from a position that had nearly left him in a state of panic. Ironically, one could abandon both the battlefield and one’s home with equal ease.

“Is this about the ''Black Prince''?”

“Your Grace granted permission for the rebels to surrender. They have defied Baron Radmoth, who was commanded by His Clanner Highness to take command of the ''Black Prince''.”

A slight sneer curled Idris’ lips.

“And what did Radmoth then do? He trained the cannons on Uraniborg and threatened them to surrender. Is he not the true traitor? The crew members who detained him are loyal subjects. Far from being blamed, they deserve to be rewarded.”

“I have no desire to debate this further. Please, accompany us quietly.”

Idris rose from his command seat, calculating the number of gun barrels pointed at him. He remembered that Radmoth had been less than twenty years old and felt a flicker of something resembling pity stir in a corner of his heart. However, he had neither the will nor the time to dwell on it. His movements were swift.

“So, who is in command here now?”

A stiff response met his mocking question.

“That is for His Clanner Highness to decide.”

The officer who answered fell silent, the muzzle of a heatgun pressed against his throat. Idris held a gun in his left hand.

“Y-you cannot escape, Your Grace.”

“I thank you for the warning. Now, walk!”

Idris moved the muzzle to the captain’s left ear and stood behind him.

A violent passion raged within the young duke’s body, churning his organs and nerves as if even the position of his heart were shifting erratically. Nevertheless, Idris’ mind maintained an unnatural level of composure. Ignoring the standing soldiers with arrogance, he exited the command centre while keeping the muzzle pressed against the captain’s left ear. The moment the door closed behind him, Idris slammed the barrel of the heatgun against the back of the captain’s head.

Without sparing even a glance at the collapsing captain, he spun around and unleashed a thermal blast upon the door’s mechanism. The metal glowed red-hot and fused together, sealing the command centre. While far from a perfect seal, it should buy him some time.

Idris sprinted forward. The soldiers were struck with horror as they watched the young duke, whose hair was dishevelled and who ran without even a single attendant, his gun still gripped in his hand. They stood frozen under his ferocious gaze and scathing reprimand.

''Radmoth is undoubtedly dead. If survived that, he’s a monster. Is Zelpha alright? I’ll definitely come to save you, please wait.'' However, before that could happen, Idris himself had to survive.

In any case, Idris was a solitary fugitive. Despair often flickered its red tongue, mocking his struggles, but each time, Idris repelled it with everything he had. He would become the final victor, no matter what. To achieve that, what was the one thing he absolutely had to do?

''“I will kill the Clanner.”''

That resolve had already become unshakeable.

''“If I fail, it’s Jouslain who will do it. I won’t let him take the glory.”''

Suddenly, Idris was seized by a dreadful thought. The distrust, bewilderment, suspicion, and frustration he had cultivated over the past year merged, rapidly taking shape.

''“… Did the Clanner intend to kill all four of us from the very beginning?”''

If he thought of it that way, most of the contradictions and mysteries seemed to dissolve.

''“But, for what purpose?”''

He could go no further with his thoughts. Idris continued to creep step by step towards the private chambers of the Clanner, Ajman, running where he had to run and hiding where he had to hide, disabling several soldiers and a few surveillance cameras along his path.

Of course, it was impossible to render every soldier and surveillance camera “inactive”. His figure was exposed to numerous gazes, and the number of those pursuing him continued to grow. However, no order to shoot had been issued, and Idris’ movements did not cease.



The explosion of the ''Black Prince'', which had shaken even Uraniborg, had naturally not failed to engulf the ''Austra'' upon which Jouslain and his followers were travelling.

Jouslain stared at the main screen without a word. Both Fan Hyulick and Balamy staggered from the ship’s swaying, grasping at pillars and walls to barely avoid falling.

The massive battleship ''Black Prince'' had exploded in close proximity to Uraniborg. The distance to the outermost layer was perhaps one hundred metres at most. To the human eye, it looked as though they had collided.

An immense amount of light, heat, and shock energy battered Uraniborg like a storm. To the citizens, it was a hellish sight; sunlight was eclipsed by dark clouds, flashes of lightning streaked the sky, and fragments of meteors battered the firmament.

The ''Black Prince'' must have carried over ten thousand crew members. Had anyone managed to escape? Even if they had, it likely wouldn’t have been even one per cent. As Radmoth brought his own life to an end, he took ten thousand souls with him.

The fleets of both armies were shrouded in astonishment. For Jouslain’s side, it was the destruction of the enemy, but for the forces of Uraniborg, the situation was not so clear-cut. After all, the ''Black Prince'' had crushed allied ships as well, and, in its final moments, had turned its main guns toward Uraniborg.

One soldier slammed his helmet against the floor and screamed.

“Damn it, just tell us who is an ally and who is an enemy!”

It was the shared desire and the desperate prayer of all. The once clear, strong, and stable order of friend and foe, of harm and benefit, of good and evil, had collapsed, leaving them cast out into the void, drowning in anxiety and terror.

Even within the residential districts of Uraniborg, in those areas that remained relatively calm, an elderly woman hurried through the streets with a look of grim determination, her meagre assets stuffed into a bag and her precious granddaughter’s hand held tightly. At a nearby ''café'' terrace, an exhausted middle-aged man continued a solitary tarot reading, his expression shifting from despair to a sort of hollow enlightenment as he muttered to himself. Suddenly, an elderly man, pushed aside by the crowd, tumbled into him, overturning the table and sending the cards scattering across the ground.

On the bridge of the ''Austra'', Duke Jouslain Tytania was desperately racking his brains, his entire body drenched in a cold sweat. The frenzy unfolding within Uraniborg was vividly projected in his mind.

“Is there any way we might infiltrate Uraniborg?”

Ten million citizens and one million Tytania personnel. All crowded inside a half-destroyed floating city being trampled by chaos and disorder. This indicated that Tytania’s ability to govern Uraniborg had significantly deteriorated. Perhaps, by taking advantage of this chaos and disorder, an infiltration of Uraniborg might now be possible.

With the ferocious threat of the ''Black Prince'' having passed, the allies held the advantage in space combat. Jouslain steeled his resolve.




=== V ===
Jouslain was the supreme commander of the rebel forces besieging Uraniborg. For him to personally infiltrate enemy territory, much like a member of an amphibious assault unit, was unorthodox both strategically and tactically. When Balamy, his expression shifting, demanded an explanation, Jouslain answered:

“I shall kill the Clanner with my own hands.”

Balamy was not convinced.

“And do you intend to become the next Clanner? Still, there should be no need for you to do the deed yourself.”

“No, the Clanner’s throne means nothing to me. I will avenge Ariabert. That’s all.”

“If you do that, Duke Idris will become the next Clanner. Are you truly prepared to accept that!?”

As Balamy’s voice rose unconsciously, Jouslain gazed at the youth, who was nine years his junior, with a strange look in his eyes.

“Why do you proceed as if it were already decided that Idris shall be the next Clanner?”

“How can I ask why? If you do not take the mantle, is Duke Idris not the only one left? Of the four Dukes of Tytania, Duke Ariabert and Duke Zarlisch have already passed away. If you say that you will not become Clanner, it is only natural that Duke Idris would seize the opportunity to reap the rewards.”

Jouslain wore a smile that could not quite be called a bitter one.

“The Council of Five Families is a terrifying system.”

The Five Families, which included that of the Clanner himself, monopolised the highest authority within Tytania. Unless one first became a member of these five families, it was impossible to ascend to the seat of Clanner.

“Besides, were you not attempting to dismantle the very structure of the Council of Five Families? No, sorry, I said too much. I will not become Clanner. That is all.”

Balamy’s expression hardened. Indeed, had he not harboured dissatisfaction with the way the Council of Five Families functioned and intended to push for the late Marquis Estrade Tytania to take the Clanner’s throne, with the aim of becoming Clanner himself after ten years?

Regardless. The current Balamy was entirely in his role as Jouslain’s aide-de-camp, serving as a guardian to a young girl of barely ten years, a princess of a small and weak nation. Where had that ambitious man, who had been young and filled with vigour and spirit, vanished to? In truth, should he not have welcomed a situation where Jouslain killed the Clanner and then met his own demise?

However, at some point, almost without his realising it, Balamy’s state of mind had changed. His desire for supremacy had receded, and the sensibilities and values he had once so deliberately disregarded had grown significantly in importance.

“Then, I shall accompany you as well,” offered Balamy with determination. “If I may be so bold, my marksmanship is somewhat superior to yours. I believe I can be of some use.”

“I cannot deny that…”

“Above all, if anything were to happen to you, Princess Lydia and Lady Francia would be devastated. Please, allow me to accompany you.”

“The same would apply to you. Besides, your duty is to protect Princess Lydia. As for Francia…”

As Jouslain faltered, Balamy pressed on:

“That is why I shall accompany you, Duke Jouslain, so that we may both return alive. You are welcome to laugh at me. This is my current ambition.”

“I cannot laugh… though I have certainly twisted the course of your life quite significantly.”

As Jouslain sighed, Balamy responded with a smile that was startlingly mature:

“My life is not so cheap that it can be twisted by the hands of others. I take pride in that. No, I have become able to take pride in it. Even if I do not have your permission, I shall accompany you.”

“Very well. I appreciate it. You shall come with us.”

“It is I who appreciates it.”

After bowing, Balamy moved his gaze. Princess Lydia was staring at her knight, with Francia holding both of her shoulders. Balamy made sure to offer the most dependable smile he could manage. As if to say, ''Please believe in me''. Then, he turned his question to Jouslain.

“How do you intend to handle the command of the entire army?”

“I shall entrust it to four men: Rear-admiral Mittendorf, Rear-admiral Magnorton, Commodore Yuan, and Commodore Durey.”

It was not as if he intended to launch an offensive using any extraordinary stratagems. He only required them to maintain the siege lines around Uraniborg. Furthermore, this would not be a prolonged affair. Provided they were the four generals who had gained combat experience under Ariabert’s command and possessed steady abilities in command and troop management, they should have been able to fulfil their duties without failure.

He would not take much time. He would infiltrate Uraniborg and confront Clanner Ajman and Idris. He would kill Ajman. It was not merely about avenging Ariabert. As long as that man, who ruled Tytania and reigned over the universe, existed, he would continue to toy with the fates of others and manipulate their lives.

He had finally understood that. No, he had understood it all along but had simply turned a blind eye. Whether he was called an ambitious man or a rebel, the responsibility to strike down the Clanner had rested with Jouslain much sooner.

“Might I accompany you as well?”

Suddenly, a voice that seemed to blend a certain frivolity with audacity rang out, and a head of carrot-orange hair popped forward. Jouslain remained silent as he looked upon Fan Hyulick’s face, which showed absolutely no sign of tension, while the still half-baked pirate continued speaking.

“I actually hold an interstellar B-class pilot’s licence. I believe I could infiltrate Uraniborg more skilfully than the two of you. How about it?”

“That is unexpected.”

“Are you talking about my offer?”

“… Well, something like that.”

There were endless reasons he could list, from Hyulick’s character and his past history to the current situation. For some reason, Jouslain felt that Hyulick was someone he could trust. Even so, the gesture was somewhat presumptuous.

“Very well, then, I shall accept your offer.”

With those words, Jouslain accepted.

Hyulick was different from Princess Lydia or Francia. In all honesty, even if he ended up dragging him into this, his conscience would not suffer much. He might feel it was a pity, but nothing more than that. While aware of his own coldness, Jouslain’s decision to readily accept Hyulick’s offer was a characteristic Tytanian judgement. Jouslain himself was well aware of this fact.

“Prepare a shuttle<ref name="ftn15">“Shuttle” (機動艇) is pronounced “mobile”.</ref> immediately.”

At Jouslain’s command, one of the officers scrambled to the ship’s communication console. Balamy looked as though he wanted to say something, but in the end, he merely shrugged his shoulders in silence and accepted the situation. It was a gesture that did not suit him particularly well.

Furthermore, Jouslain turned to the four generals—Mittendorf, Magnorton, Yuan, and Durey—and formally entrusted them with the command during his absence. The four seasoned generals accepted the order, understanding that their mission was not to launch a great offensive but rather to maintain the ''status quo''.

“It may be late to say this, but this is nothing more than a family feud within a merchant house<ref name="ftn16">The expression refers to succession disputes.</ref>. It would be stranger if we involved the entire universe. Please allow us to settle this within the family.”

The matter might be settled by Jouslain himself being killed. In fact, that possibility seemed quite high.

“Captain Fredericks.”

“Understood.”

“I am sorry to have put you through so much hardship, but I entrust the safety of Princess Lydia and Francia to you.”

Jouslain deliberately avoided looking towards Francia. Captain Fredericks’ response was dignified.

“As you will.”

“Thank you. I am most grateful.”

Jouslain bowed deeply, looked around at those nearby, and offered a Tytania-style salute. He brought his right fist to his left shoulder. He had a feeling that this would be his final salute.

Upon receiving word that the shuttle was ready, Jouslain walked towards the boarding hatch. Balamy and Hyulick followed him. The bridge doors opened and closed without a sound, concealing the figures of the three men.

As Francia stood still, her hands clenched tightly, a hand was placed upon her left shoulder. When she turned around, what she saw was the face of Captain Edna Fredericks.

“Miss Francia.”

“…”

“You want to go, don’t you? Then go.”

Captain Fredericks’ words petrified Francia for a moment.

“Is it truly alright?”

“I have been entrusted with your safety by Duke Jouslain. Under that authority, I hereby permit you to depart this vessel and proceed to Uraniborg.”

Francia gasped and gripped Edna’s hands with all her strength.

“Oh, thank you, Captain Fredericks—no, please, let me call you Miss Edna. I shall take you up on your kind offer.”

“However, I cannot guarantee your safety.”

“I am aware of that.”

“Take this with you.”

Edna drew a charged particle gun from her holster and handed it to Francia.

“I shall have an autocapsule prepared for you immediately.”

“Thank you, thank you so much.”

“It is enough that I alone shall have something to regret.”

As Edna murmured those words impassively, Princess Lydia threw herself at her.

“I’m going with Francia too!”

“I am sorry, Your Highness, but you must remain here and look after the home front.”

“Why? If Francia may go, why am I forbidden from departing?”

“It is because you are still a child, Your Highness.”

“That is not my fault!”

Princess Lydia’s logical argument brought a smile to Captain Edna Fredericks’ face.

“Your Highness, there are certain things in this world that can only be accomplished by adults. That is precisely why adults exist. Furthermore, you are a person destined to one day become Queen. If you do not learn to listen closely to the opinions of others, you will never become a great monarch.”

Princess Lydia looked up at Edna’s tall stature, finding within those eyes the profound expression of a grown woman. The Princess nodded as if to persuade herself, then shouted toward the closed doors.

“Duke Jouslain, Bal, Francia! I shall wait here and be a good girl, so you must return to me safely!”

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