Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter7 (section)

=== Part 1 ===
“Who are you?” Ryucown asked again.

“A gladiator.”

With that simple reply, the swordsman charged at the rebel general at full speed, wielding a sword with both hands.

The blow came within an inch of Ryucown’s face, and he responded with a head strike of his own. The masked gladiator quickly distanced himself.

The wind from the high-speed exchange raised a whirlwind between the two duellists.

“A Mephian? How did you sneak in here?”

“Who knows?”

During that short exchange, the hall across from the two burst into chaos. Warriors garbed in the same gear as the gladiator clashed with Ryucown’s troops. Every member of this group was an elite fighter, handpicked for their ability to do battle in a chaotic situation.

Sparks flew and curses were exchanged. Shique was dual-wielding twin blades, decapitating one foe after another, while the giant sword-slave Gilliam swung his axe with all his might, cutting through enemy flesh even though they were in full armour.

The masked gladiator struck again. Ryucown side-stepped the blow, then brought his sword down in a vertical slash.

The swordsman steadied his centre of gravity by spreading his legs and caught the blow. He then immediately used the rebound, the instant Ryucown was pushed a step back, to launch a vicious attack.

“Oh, not bad.”

There were two, three, then numerous blows with the two locked in a stalemate.

“Tell me your name. With such skill, you must be famous.”

“Who knows.”

Repeating the words he spoke earlier, the masked swordsman – Orba – lashed out with a swinging strike.

The ‘gift’ Orba had mentioned at the Doom’s bridge earlier was Princess Vileena. He had expected there to be traitors within the Garberan camp and that, as soon as they launched their attack, Ryucown’s forces would coordinate with them for a pincer strike.

And the spies within the Garberan camp had done precisely as expected – getting close to the soldiers guarding the princess. Like this, he was able to read the enemy’s movements. And just before they took the princess off the ship, Orba swooped down on them to save her.

Then, during the confusion caused by Ryucown’s attack, Orba and his forces changed into Garberan armour, took the unconscious princess off the ship, and led a battalion of trained soldiers toward Zaim Fortress. Naturally, when Ryucown’s force saw them coming, they automatically thought their allies’ plan had been a success and even escorted them into the fortress.

Orba’s heart brimmed with excitement. He felt like he’d become a main character in one of the heroic novels he’d read when he was young. Everything was moving according to his plan, and now he was facing the enemy general one-on-one.

But,

''Dammit!''

A fourth, a fifth strike; the two warriors fought on and sparks flew with every blow.

Ryucown’s skills far exceeded Orba’s expectations. Easily predicting the young man’s moves, his opponent’s sword appeared to come from every direction. And while Ryucown’s strikes came from left, right, front and back with daring aggression, he never left any opening to exploit.

Beads of sweat began to roll off Orba’s back. He couldn’t afford to waste any time there. The longer this lasted, the more enemies would be able to reach the upper floor. If they followed his strategy, the flagship Doom should be heading toward the fortress while finishing off the main rebel force, but it was difficult for a newbie like Orba to predict how long that would take.

The only thing he could do, was to utilize every minute, every second he had to finish off Ryucown. Thus all he could do was to wield his sword, strike, dodge and feint.

Vileena held her breath as she watched the scene before her. Of course she didn’t realize that the Prince Gil she knew and the masked duellist were the same person. And although the battle seemed to be on equal terms for a while, her eyes began to see the tiniest differences between the two fighters.

During their numerous exchanges, Ryucown kept observing Orba’s techniques. The skills were there, but there was a strange personal quirk within his technique. Especially when he made a long-distance strike, he left his left side unguarded, because his feet didn’t follow suit.

Ryucown gave a thin smile. Then he stepped back.

Orba fell for the feint and followed. In that instant, Ryucown pushed himself off the ground. The point of his blade grazed Orba’s face. And when his feet touched the ground again, Ryucown positioned himself next to his opponent’s side. Pushing himself off the ground again, he raised his sword overhead, and soon enough the point of his blade touched the mask.

“Ugh.”

Orba quickly put all his strength into his back, and turned his body to dodge. Ryucown continued to press in. Unable to regain his posture, Orba realized he was being driven back as he tried to block the violent succession of attacks.

“Your plan to infiltrate is amazing.”

Although his face was covered in sweat, Ryucown was still breathing regularly.

“But it’s impossible to achieve victory if you don’t finish me off quickly. Even though you’re an excellent fighter, you already lost in the instant you couldn’t kill me.”

Orba did not have the luxury to reply. He finally realized the truth. His opponent’s skill was greater than his – he hadn’t counted on that. The knight’s swordsmanship, strength, technique, and even experience far exceeded his own. Compared to the unscathed Ryucown, Orba’s side and hips were slightly injured, and one of his armour’s shoulder guards had broken off. He was out of breath, and he could barely hold on to his sword.

In that moment, Ryucown’s troops started gathering in the main hall. The gladiators were also pushed back by their force. No longer able to defend the door, they were driven to the centre of the hall and immediately surrounded by the soldiers rushing in on them.

“Damn it!” Gilliam grunted and raised his axe.

Shique mirrored his stance. There was still a killing intent in their eyes. Knocking down a thrown spear by the soldiers surrounding them, Gilliam said,

“I don’t want to say this, but I wish Orba were here. The bastard’s an annoying one, but you can rely on that icy cold strength in a battle – what’s so funny, Shique?"

“No, no, you’re right. Although that masked guy is pretty strong, he is far from Orba, right? Oh really, if I knew it would come to this, I would’ve tried much harder to get him here.”

Covered in the blood of enemies and themselves, the duo could still joke away in such desperate straits, but the other gladiators – one had been pierced by an enemy spear, and another had his leg cut off – fell down one by one.

Ryucown was convinced the battle was over. He planned on sneaking in on Orba’s chest and, the moment the gladiator dodged out of the way, make another strike. The two swords met once more, and finally Orba’s sword was sent flying from his hands.

“What?”

It was Ryucown who cried out in surprise.

Confident of his victory, the rebel general had relaxed his stance, and in that instance Orba pulled out a dagger from his waist and attacked. He’d chosen to gamble away his weapon for one desperate attack.

''Got it!''

Loaded with confidence, Orba piled into Ryucown’s body. The rebel troops raised shouts of surprise, and suddenly the main hall was filled with sound of metal clashing against metal.



At the southern side of the hill, the armies clashed with each other under the bombardment of both sides’ artillery. The battlefield had already turned into a every-man-for-himself fight. Mephius’ and Ryucown’s troops mixed with each other in a chaotic melee, and an orange fire illuminated the moonless sky.

“Fire! Fire!!”

The old general Rogue Saian could not contain his excitement and bloodlust, thus personally led his troops on the front line. Volley after volley of shots were being fired, aimed at the line of troops.

Although the Mephian troops held superior resources and numbers, it was their enemy who currently possessed the upper hand.

At the same time, Gowen led a ten-man team to flank the enemy from the right. They had a Baian dragging two cannons along with them. They were hoping to use them to bombard the enemy, but their position was quickly spotted by a patrolling airship.

“Get down!”

As Gowen threw himself to the ground, giving out the order, a bullet flew right before his eyes. A single-seated airship nearly strafed past him and then changed directions, making a sharp ascent upwards. In the course of this action, the plane suddenly lost its balance. One of the gladiators had clung to the tail of the ship. The other gladiators quickly came swarming over, dragging the pilot from his airship.

Although they continued their advance, Gowen’s heart was cast under a shadow of impatience.

For Ryucown’s forces, this assault was as good an opportunity as ever. Probably stirred by instigators, part of the Garberan army had turned traitor and struck a blow to the Mephian army, sending them into confusion. They didn’t need to completely annihilate their forces, inflicting 20 to 30 percent casualties was sufficient. With that much, the Mephian army would no longer see the value of another nation’s territory and withdraw.

It was a perfect opportunity. Which was why for someone like Ryucown, who didn’t need to think about retreating, there would be no holding back. He would use all of his forces – and it actually went just as Orba had predicted. Weaving their way through that gap, Orba and an elite set of forces slipped into the fortress in order to put an end to Ryucown. And after driving away the enemy’s main force, Doom would head for the fort at the same time and occupy it.

That was the idea, but…

According to Orba’s plan, the Garberan camp should’ve immediately joined up with Mephius. Even if their side had fallen into confusion, they would have enough forces to contend with and crush the enemy forces, but the Garberans had made no move. In a free-for-all, confused battle, even their messages became jumbled. He’d be lying if he said his own predictions hadn't been sugarcoated a bit.

In any case, the enemy’s morale was extraordinarily high. If one of them fell, another would step over the corpse, or even use it as a shield. Step by step, they slowly pushed forward in their direction. Besides, the Mephian troops didn’t even know that their indispensable prince – although only a body double – and princess were inside the fortress.

''The Mephians don’t have the same fighting spirit. If this goes on, their army will soon fall to pieces. I have to hurry!''

And so, Gowen resumed his march. At the centre of the hill, from a place with a good view, he fired his cannon right in the middle of the enemy gunners. One shot, two shots… A pillar of flames rose up with every strike, but three shots was the limit. A new unit of airships was already heading towards their position.

“Make way! Make way!!”

This attack definitely inflicted some serious damage, but the enemy line didn’t collapse, not even by a bit. The only thing Gowen could do was to leave their artillery and flee the place with the dragons.

''Orba!''

If it came to this, Orba just had to hurry and take Ryucown out. Then, they could only hope that their enemies would lose their will to fight. He retreated, the sound of gunfire wailed around him as bullets grazed his shoulders.



Ryucown opened his eyes wide… then he squinted them tight again.

Orba was leaning forward with his full weight bearing down against him. He hadn’t drawn any blood. However, Ryucown had barely been able to block Orba last desperate attack. He still carried a 60 cm short-sword behind his back, which he’d pulled out at the right moment to defend.

Orba still tried to use his strength to deliver another blow, but the thrust missed as Ryucown had already moved around him in a semi-circle, and all he could do was fall forward. On all fours on the ground, a blade was placed to the nape of his neck.

''I lost.''

Orba’s body went cold as he felt steel prickling his skin. There was no way to change the outcome. Orba had managed to outwit his foe, but Ryucown’s swordsmanship, as well as the Garberan movements, had been a fatal blow.

Having lived through countless battles, this was his first time tasting defeat. For him, it meant that the heart that had been beating only for vengeance, would stop beating halfway.

“I like your gall. If you hadn’t been born in Mephius, I would have gladly fought at your side,” Ryucown said, as he prepared to sever Orba’s head.

“Stop this!”

Vileena’s scream rang clearly within the hall. Ryucown tried to ignore her at first but,

"Stop it now!!”

Feeling the second scream carried the force of life or death, Ryucown glanced her way. Sure enough, the Garberan princess was pointing a pistol his way. The soldier right behind her had a panicked look on his face, so she probably stole the gun from him.

Ryucown smiled.

“So, what are you going to do? Shoot me?"

“No,” Princess Vileena said, shaking her head.

Her face bloomed into a lovely smile, making one wonder what she was thinking, and she lifted the pistol.

“I will shoot myself.”

She pointed it at her own temple. Ryucown’s eyebrows jumped up while unrest rose among the soldiers.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Do you have the guts to repeat your earlier words in front of your loyal troops? Your true intentions? While you are a knight serving royalty, your own ideals stray from your true purpose. Do you wish to have them bear the same burden?”

Vibrant light had come back to the pair of eyes that had held such despair before. Even as she held a gun to her head.

Ryucown held his tongue. He was puzzled by Vileena betting her life like this. Just as the fourteen-year-old speculated, Ryucown could not allow Vileena to die in front of his troops. These soldiers shared his ideals of rebuilding the Kingdom of Garbera to a country of true knights. However, they also revered princess Vileena’s royal bloodline. If they lost their idol, his cause would collapse. Someone like him, who was willing to do anything to create an ideal nation, was in one way an innovator, but in another way the type to be criticized as evil.

While Ryucown and Vileena were engaged in a silent battle, the defeated Orba was crouched at the sideline. His back heaved as he breathed roughly, but by no means had he accepted his death.

From the inside of his mask, he stared at the short blade that had parried his earlier attack.

''That’s…''

There were letters clearly engraved on the blade. There was no mistaking it.

''O, R, B, A…''

It was none other than his own name. Orba's heartbeat, that had been on the verge of stopping, firmly started ticking away at a steady rhythm again.