Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume7 Chapter5 (section)

=== Part 1 ===

Vileena was on the highest floor of Apta Fortress.

Repairs were progressing steadily on the fortress that Prince Gil had once bombed. She had previously also looked over the town from a high position, but that had been the roof of the barracks. Shoulder to shoulder with Prince Gil, they had gazed out at the evening sky and at the town below.

It was still very early in the morning, but smoke was starting to rise from where breakfasts were being prepared. Low in the sky, a pale pink belt wreathed the nearby mountains and birds were fluttering about as though to follow that belt.

After hearing from Rogue about the contents of his conversation with Nabarl, Vileena had not been able to get a wink of sleep. That was how devastated she felt.

After several months in confinement, Oubary Bilan had been released. He was no longer a criminal, which meant that he had been cleared of the charge of assassinating Prince Gil.

Emperor Guhl Mephius’ declaration before the imperial court had shocked a great many people, just as much as it had Vileena.

“Prince Gil’s assassin was one of Taúlia’s lackeys.”

It was said that the information came from Oubary himself and from a spy that the Emperor had sent to the west. There were people in Taúlia who did not accept the alliance with Mephius and it was they who had hatched the plot. Evidently, it was much the same as when Ryucown had risen to action in the princess’ country, Garbera.

Maintaining “utmost goodwill”, Emperor Guhl had sent a letter to Ax Bazgan. Hand over the criminals. If they did so, he would recognise that Taúlia had not been involved – was what the letter had said.
“But that Bazgan cur flung my goodwill back in my face.”

Shockingly, he had sent back the messenger’s head.

In all likelihood, when Ax Bazgan had chosen reconciliation with Mephius, he had come under harsh attack from his retainers. Unable to curb their rash actions, and probably regretting his choice, Ax was absolutely unable to comply with Mephius’ request for fear of even more criticism. If he showed any further weakness, his retainers might use it against him again. So, although this was not his actual wish, he had then no choice but to vent his anger on the messenger, declaring the request “completely groundless!”

The Emperor had decided to punish Taúlia. He had selected Nabarl, who had always advocated the conquest of Taúlia, to be the commander-in-chief of the subjugation army. And had also elevated him to the ranks of the twelve generals.

This had been a startling development even for the retainers closest to the Emperor. This revelation was the first anyone had heard of this exchange with Taúlia, and because it was so sudden, most people assumed that it was almost certainly untrue. Yet nobody objected.

Simon Rodloom’s absence was huge. Moreover, even though Fedom’s anti-Emperor faction had hurriedly come rushing to Solon, they had been so terrified of Guhl learning of their plans through Nabarl, that they had taken the initiative of actively voicing their support for the Emperor.

The matter was urgent, and the actions taken were correspondingly prompt. Perhaps because of concern that the townspeople would get wind of it, the force which had left Solon was only composed of seven hundred from Nabarl’s newly-established Blue Zenith Division. The ones who were to assist them were Rogue and Odyne, precisely the two who were being kept away from Solon. Orders were sent for Rogue to prepare one battleship and two cruisers, for Odyne to mobilise a reserve force of one thousand, and for both to lead them to Apta.

''It can’t be''.

The reason for Nabarl having detained the Prince’s Imperial Guards was because the inconvenient ‘testimony’ that they had given was far too removed from the ‘truth’ that the Emperor was bent on pushing through.

''It can’t be – This is absurd''.

While gazing down at Apta at daybreak, Vileena shook her head agitatedly. Naturally, she also felt misgivings towards the Emperor’s unexpected actions. Or rather than misgivings, it was closer to fury. It was perfectly obvious that the Emperor was taking advantage of the deadlock in relations between the three countries at the centre of the continent to distort the truth and seize the west.

Forgetting her position as princess, Vileena felt like slamming her fist against the parapet. After only a very short time in Mephius, she had learned to feel anxiety and distaste for a system in which so few people would offer council to the Emperor. And now again, it was like dark ripples spreading through her chest.

''I…''

It was certainly not to watch the army march on Taulia that she had come to Apta. She had come to search for a hint, no matter how slender, that the Prince might still be alive. Now however, in this situation of imminent war, that truly seemed like a little girl’s childish sentimentality. War was something that swallowed and engulfed sentimentality as it spread wider.
 


Odyne Lorgo entered Apta the next day.

It had taken him some time because he had to mobilise his entire force, including his reserve troops. Unlike Rogue, since he had passed through villages and towns on his march, he had already heard that Nabarl was in Apta and that he had been made one of the twelve generals. That had, of course, given rise to various guesses and speculations; by the time he met Rogue in Apta, he had more or less prepared himself.

“I have of course given some thought to why His Majesty chose us.”

Odyne Lorgo was still only thirty-seven years old, but his expression was calm. Apart from the fact that he was a little straight-laced, Rogue had a good opinion of him as a military man.

“His Majesty must be aware that no matter what pretext he makes up, this war has no just cause. And that’s why he designated those who have already opposed him once.”

“…”

“We can no longer afford to disobey an imperial command, no matter what the order may be.” After saying that, Odyne swallowed.

Rogue had invited him to “have a drink together” and had wine brought to his chambers, but neither of them tried any of it yet.

Even though the town of Apta had just been filled to the brim with soldiers, it was strangely silent.

Both Rogue and Odyne had left their families in Solon. It was one of the commands they had received when they had been ordered to leave the capital. Both of them of course understood what that meant.
So there was no need to say it.

Because of that, and out of mutual consideration, there were not that many topics that they could discuss directly. As they spoke together in subdued tones, it was hard to believe that the two of them were used to striding boldly through battlefields.

Rogue talked about how he had always thought that if he ever had a chance to go to Apta, he would like to go fishing in the River Yunos, while Odyne spoke about going to have a look at the forest where the Garberan army was said to have lain in ambush when they captured the fortress.

“Oh, you’re quite studious.”

“There’s that too, but...” Odyne’s lips curved so slightly it could not even be called a smile, “I like seeing places that have legends or historic events attached to them. I walk around them picturing various scenes. Tauran also has a lot of ancient ruins, so originally, I would have wanted to visit it for a different reason.”

“Well that’s a surprising side to you. Er— that might have been rude of me.”

“It’s fine. Apparently, even my family sometimes sees me as an unfeeling block of wood.”

And finally,

“His Highness the Crown Prince,” as Odyne spoke, he put his hand to his neck as though it were a sword, “said something while pointing his sword at me: Are you somebody’s slave? Is it really that comfortable living without thinking of anything, only doing as you’re told?”

Rogue had no words to give in response. However, he did not pretend not to hear it. As proof of that, he poured some wine into the glasses that had remained empty the whole time and handed one to Odyne.

“To His Highness,” he said, raising his glass.

Odyne did the same.

“To His Highness.”
 


On the evening of the next day.

“Despicable,” Rogue Saian practically growled.

They were in Apta Fortress’ council room. The three generals Nabarl, Rogue, and Odyne were gathered in front of a table on which a map was spread out. Nabarl had just finished explaining his strategy and Rogue was unable to conceal his feelings.

Ordinarily, Nabarl did not have a particularly assertive personality. When Rogue, the oldest of the twelve generals, made that kind of judgement, he would have normally pulled backed.

“You may say as you will,” he said with a changed attitude, “This is the detailed strategy that His Majesty and I perfected together. Preparations for the vanguard unit of five hundred have already been made. For the rest, I am simply waiting for the official notice.”

“A detailed strategy? It’s a strategy now to march on Taúlia without even declaring war?”

“I would ask you to watch your words.”

Nabarl seemed like a completely changed person. With the huge backing he had received, it was doubtful he would fear the gods themselves. He rotated his large neck and stared repeatedly from Rogue to Odyne.

“Taúlia has unquestionably attacked Apta without prior notice before. This will also serve as retribution. The country of Mephius will not be branded a coward.”

“What retribution? We’ve agreed to peace with them.”

“That peace was something that the Crown Prince arbitrarily decided. Taúlia’s Ax Bazgan is a cunning man. No doubt he glibly deceived the Prince, who was still young, and induced him to bind himself into a five-minute alliance. If we don’t discard it, Mephius’ diplomatic skill will be a laughing stock among foreign countries.”

“Bastard, this is an insult to His Highness’ last wishes and…”

“Sir Nabarl,” Odyne spoke as though to block Rogue, who was red in the face and shouting. He was about three years younger than Nabarl. The latter answered arrogantly, as though to say that his position too was now superior.

“What is it?”

“Even in the case of a surprise attack, the speed of Taúlia’s surrender is crucial.”

Odyne brought up Mephius’ invasion of Taúlia, over ten years ago, as an example. The people of Tauran were descended from nomadic tribes that worshipped the Dragon Gods and it was characteristic of them that, even though they competed amongst themselves, they would cooperate and fight together to an extraordinary degree when facing an outside enemy. Actually, back then, Mephius had gotten as far as occupying Taúlia for a while; however on the behest of Ax Bazgan, who had managed to escape with the support of his relatives, and of the strategist Ravan Dol, the various powers of Tauran had joined in an alliance and had attacked the Mephian army from three sides.

Because of their unexpected speed, Mephius had not had time to lay out a defensive line or put up a resistance; in the end, they abandoned Taúlia and fled home.

“Thus we need sufficient resources to ensure that Taúlia falls quickly. Adopting an aggressive stance is fine, but wouldn’t you say that having our cooperation is vital?”

Coming from Odyne, this was a kind of threat. Having received the Emperor’s command, both Odyne and Rogue’s families would be in danger if they refused to participate in the war. The commander-in-chief however was Nabarl. If he was unable to integrate Rogue or Odyne and if the invasion of Taúlia ended in failure, Nabarl would naturally be the one to bear the responsibility.

“If neither of you are interested, that is also fine.”

“What?”

Nabarl’s face was as cool as ever as he turned his scornful gaze towards each of the two generals in turn.

“By all means, relax and sip tea here in Apta. I will manage the whole thing myself and invite you to see the results in the end. Ah, but of course, that is also what I will report to His Majesty.”

For a second, both Rogue and Odyne were left speechless.

Mounting an attack without a declaration of war was proof that he was not making light of Taúlia’s military strength. Yet even so, he was saying that he would capture it with his own troop of only seven hundred?

''This fellow'' — Rogue stared intently at Nabarl — ''did he catch hold of some kind of information about the West? No, he’s been advocating attacking Taúlia for years. If someone had caught hold of it, that…''

''Could it be His Majesty?''

For some reason, he felt unfamiliar chills crawl up his body. Without confiding in any of his retainers, the Emperor had probably had his sights set on the west since long ago. While gathering minute information, he had patiently awaited his chance. And for Guhl Mephius, the Crown Prince’s death had represented an unparalleled opportunity.
Essentially, Taúlia was vulnerable to an air force, so Rogue Saian’s airships should have been indispensable for a swift victory. Nabarl, however, seemed extremely confident in his plan. Rather than going through the trouble of dealing with allies who were not keen on his strategy, he had determined that it would be more advantageous to act alone. In a way, it was a decisiveness worthy of a warrior.
“Well then, we will watch,” said Odyne. “Please leave the rearguard to us.”

“As you wish,” to the end, Nabarl maintained his cocksure attitude.
 


Upon leaving the council room, Nabarl headed straight for a large room beneath the barracks. About twenty of the former Imperial Guards were being held there. He called for one of them.

He had, of course, been disarmed and was almost naked, but from the pressure he gave off, it seemed like at any moment, he might tear through Nabarl’s windpipe with his teeth.

The runner-up in that year’s gladiatorial tournament, the swordsman who had taken the position of the hero Felipe for his own – Pashir.

Nabarl spoke dismissively, “You... it seems you fought splendidly on the battlefield alongside the Prince.”

“…”

“I’ll have the equipment of the Blue Zenith Division prepared for you at once. I am giving you a chance to shine again. If you do, maybe your friends’ treatment will change a bit.”

Pashir had no say in the matter. He was immediately led away by one of the officers and fitted out with weapons and armour. A weapon that he was not specialised in, a bow, was slung over his shoulder. The armour was also somewhat overdone, clearly more for ceremonial use than for actual combat.

It was a whim of Nabarl’s.

The newly-established Blue Zenith Division consisted not only of the mercenaries, now elevated to regular soldiers, who had been working for him, but also many sent from the mercenary units of other divisions. Having the Felipe from the gladiatorial tournament at his beck and call was a way of showing those newcomers his status. Additionally, he calculated that even those who had been under his command for a long time would be far more enthusiastic than usual at being able to lord it over this man,  who had jumped up from being a gladiator.

Pashir would eventually be executed as a criminal who had concealed the cause of the Crown Prince’s death. To Nabarl’s way of thinking, he should make use of him while he could.