Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume8 Chapter5 (section)

=== Part 1 ===

Two days after Orba had been placed under restraint, Bouwen Tedos went to visit the sage Ravan in his room.

Originally, he had wanted to cross-examine the matter as soon as he had heard about it, but with the reinforcements from all over arriving in Taúlia one after another, he had been delayed. Which was why it was not only about Orba’s affair that he felt like venting his complaints to Ravan. It was also because of the rumour that Ravan planned to delay Taúlia’s Governor-General Ax Bazgan’s return to the castle.

“This is going to sound like whining but I cannot handle everything by myself.”

“This also counts as experience.” Ravan was lying on his stomach on a sheet spread over the floor. He was smoking.

In theory, he had recovered sufficiently to be able to stand and walk, but he needed to use a cane to do so. Although the old man looked like he did not care about the gazes of others, Bouwen knew that he was, in fact, a mass of pride. As long as he was unaccustomed to a cane, he would hate having his ungainly figure being seen. He probably had no intention of taking a single step outside until he became much better at walking with it. Because of that idiosyncrasy, Bouwen, whom he trusted, was seeing him in postures like this one where he was lying on his belly.

“When the time comes, you will have to issue the orders to lead the troops from other countries. You should look over each of their faces in person. If you do not meet them personally, it will make a world of difference in the future.”

“I understand that but – right, Master, what is more important right now is Orba,” Bouwen cut to the main topic.

The one who had spread the surveillance net around Orba and his companions had been Natokk, the commander of the Sixth Army Corps. Upon asking him, he heard that he had received the order from Ax and had obtained permission from Ravan.

''I didn’t hear a single word about it'' – although thinking that he should not be making complaints, although believing that he should not be making complaints, considering that he was basically Taúlia’s current commander-in-chief, still he felt abashed by it. 

“What’s going on with him at the moment?”

“He is under confinement. He won’t talk even when he is asked about sending a secret messenger to Mephius. Normally he would be tortured on suspicion of being connected with an enemy country but… Anyway.”

He was the hero who had defeated Garda. Moreover, he had just recently achieved success in the battle against Mephius. But when push came to shove – that is, when it came to defending the country – Bouwen was capable of cold-blooded ruthlessness. If Orba’s attitude was too obstinate, sending him to the underground torture chamber was an option.

“Hmm,” Ravan breathed out tobacco smoke, “but even if he sent a secret message, what were the contents? Given that it’s Mephius, there are very few things worth reporting to it about our troop formation. When all’s said and done, this war is the same as last time; and a surprise attack won’t work anymore. Conceivably, Orba and his companions could take action from within Taúlia simultaneously with an attack from Mephius but… that’s not realistic either. Orba and his friends are too few in number.”

The difficulty of how to deal with Orba's unit also arose. It could be assumed that the Mephian Gilliam, who had gotten in the way of Natokk's men, was an accomplice in the betrayal; but what about the likes of Talcott or Stan, who had been mercenaries in Taúlia before Orba had arrived, or Kurun, who had been an apprentice soldier in Helio?

Of course, since they could not be left as they were, like Orba, they had all been imprisoned in a large chamber.

In other words, both in Apta and in Taúlia, the two cities separated by the River Yunos, Orba and quite a few of his acquaintances had been deprived of their freedom.

"That is why we need Orba to tell us with his own mouth what the contents were. Master Ravan, could you not go and see him in person?"

"Sorry, but I am not going on a fool's errand," Ravan said very plainly. "Even if I go now, the mask won't speak. He will come begging for mercy at some point. A more important problem is maintaining provisions for Taúlia," Ravan moved onto another topic, bringing to a close the topic of Orba for the time being.

The next day, however, as Bouwen left the castle building to go and receive the regular report from the border guards, "Sir Bouwen" – someone called out to him from horseback. He had a dark black beard and wore blue armour. Going by rumour, he was the Blue Dragon of Kadyne, Nilgif.

He had just arrived in Taúlia late the previous day. But only he and his older brother had passed through the gate. When asked about the Kadynian soldiers that they were supposed to be leading, they had nonchalantly replied that– "they were slow. They'll probably be arriving in two or three days."

Although at first glance his body looked heavy, Nilgif jumped nimbly from his horse without a trace of difficulty.

"I heard about Orba," he said.

"Orba?"

"Don't play dumb. It seems he's being detained."

Bouwen brazened it out. But he cursed inwardly. Orba's arrest was supposed to be a closely guarded secret. Officially, he had not yet recovered from the earlier gunshot wound and it had been decided that he should concentrate on his medical treatment.

''Who let that out?''

"Is it because he's Mephian?"

"What do you mean?"

"The rumour among the people of Taúlia is that as he is a former inhabitant of Mephius, you intend to make an example of him and have him executed."

"Ridiculous."

"Right. It's ridiculous. I haven't repaid my ‘debt’ to him yet. Besides the fact that he saved my family, our fight during the war was also left hanging. I'd be bothered if he was arbitrarily disposed of."

"Nilgif, where are your manners?"

This time, it was the Red Dragon, Moldorf, who appeared. Bouwen had seen him from a distance during the battle at the Coldrin Hills. Although that time, he had been an enemy.

"Sir Ax is the hero who saved the entire western region and Orba is known as his strongest 'sword'. Nilgif, rumours can't be trusted. Sir Bouwen will have realised long ago that if he were to be executed, Taúlia would come under blame from every corner of the west." Although Moldorf apologised for his younger brother's rudeness, his words were an insinuation directed against Bouwen.

"Indeed," Bouwen shook his head, his expression studiously blank, "Orba is a mercenary under our Taúlia. Although you are our partner in the alliance, I cannot simply disclose where he currently is, nor what assignment he has been entrusted with. With that..."

Bouwen sprang his horse and got away from the Red and Blue Dragons, but of course, that would not settle the situation. If it was even being talked about among the people, they would no longer be able to conceal the situation with Orba. But if the truth came out about how he had been confined for having sent a secret message to Mephius, morale in Taúlia would fall into chaos.

''Eei, he's a difficult man to deal with. Now, at this point, why Mephius?''

Bouwen's ire rose. If it had to come to this, it would have been better if the gunshot injury had gotten worse and he had died. Would they end up secretly taking his life, or, out of consideration for his achievement in defeating Garda, would they take his mask and throw him out?

''But, it's a pity'' – Bouwen thought. 'Now, at this point' also applied to him. ''That man would be a loss. Isn't there some other way?''

Because of that thought, on the afternoon of the same day, Bouwen filled an interval of his busy working schedule by going in person to the room in which Orba was imprisoned.

"There are rumours about you,' said Bouwen. "Apparently, there are many voices among the people pleading for your life to be saved. Did you spread the rumour yourself expecting things to turn out this way?"

He was only trying to surprise a confession out of Orba, who had been there ever since that night and who had seen no one other than Taúlian soldiers.

For his part, Orba was silent. In that dreary room, with only a table and chair inside it, he was like a chained dragon crouching patiently and quietly. But even as he maintained that pretence, the sharp gaze concealed behind the mask seemed to say that he was sharpening his fangs and claws, and that any human who carelessly got too close would be torn to shreds and devoured in a single strike.

''Take off that mask!'' – Receiving no reaction, Bouwen was seized with the impulse to scream and forcefully tear off the iron mask. His face hidden, there was no indication of the other's feelings or intentions.

But he bore with it.

Just as Bouwen was about to leave, Orba opened his mouth.

"The third day."

"What?"

"Today is the third day since I came here. Is that correct?"

"That sounds right."

A trivial thing. He assumed that trivial thing was an excuse to start talking but, contrary to his expectations, Orba shut his mouth again.

Bouwen Tedos stood there, unmoving, for a short while, but there was still a ton of things he needed to finish before the day was done. In the end, he left.
 



Even after Bouwen had left, Orba remained seated in the chair.

While it appeared nothing had changed, the way he occasionally stood up and wandered restlessly around the room showed that this was not because he had remained calm and composed. But if he focused on only one thing, he feared he might become paralysed by it.

He occasionally acted as though he were practicing with a sword even though he was empty-handed. As to what he was thinking about, it had no direct connection with either Mephius or Taúlia, but was rather along the lines of – ''if I was up against an opponent like Moldorf or Nilgif on horseback, how should I deal with it?''

The time spent waiting was frustrating. When Bouwen had come to visit, he had almost spontaneously jumped at the opportunity, since he knew he would have to wait a long time again if he missed it.

So he instead reminisced about the battlefield. The great generals Moldorf and Nilgif were masters at wielding spears on horseback. He had fought against both, but it would be hard to say that he had seized a clear victory in either case. From here on, when he was up against opponents like them, how should fight them?

At the outset, Orba assumed a two-stage attack with spear and sword. He wouldn't be able to match them in a frontal attack with a spear. So he would hold the reins in his mouth and while he threw the spear with his right hand, he would use the momentum to draw the sword with his left and chain the thrusts.

He even practiced the movement. Of course, since he was under confinement, every kind of weapon had been confiscated from him and he could not really practice by wielding a sword. However, despite Orba's young age, he had a wealth of experience in practical fighting. Memories of a great many fights helped with the image training.

''It's not bad but...''

After he had repeated it enough for his breathing to quicken, Orba groped about for another method. It was difficult to freely handle a horse or a dragon with a weapon in both hands; and even more so if it became a chaotic mêlée. Besides, if he was wielding both weapons from the start, it would be easy to guess his intentions.

''So keep the sword at the waist and start with the spear.''

Orba stared intently at the darkness and the figure of the Red Dragon Moldorf loomed out of it. At a distance that was neither too far nor too close, he threw the spear. There was no need to do so with all his strength. On the contrary, in order to be able to smoothly execute his next move, it should be neither too strong nor too weak. Since it was Moldorf, he would easily repel the spear. Orba leaned forward and sprung his horse onwards. Having knocked away the spear, Moldorf thrust out his own spear and galloped headlong towards the now empty-handed Orba. He could feel the wind whistling past his face.

''Now'' –

For a split second, Orba seemed to fall forward then drew the sword at his waist.

The horses passed by each other. With a sweeping stroke to the torso, Moldorf was falling from the horse - His mental image could get to that point.

What was important here was that the movement of unsheathing the sword drawn from at his waist and the movement of striking his opponent's torso should truly be one and the same.

''I shouldn't use a longsword''.

The length of the short sword that he had received from his brother Roan would be about perfect.

Orba, alone, repeatedly practised bending at the knees and slouching from a forward position while drawing a sword. He was starting to sweat and while he was absorbed in moving his body without conscious thought, he was briefly able to forget his impatience and his regret. It was not a way of escaping from reality, but rather of driving away the negative emotions that were otherwise liable to take control of his body and mind.

And then, right after Bouwen Tedos had left, Orba, remaining behind, sat thinking in the chair.

''The third day is it?''

By his reckoning, if Shique had galloped onwards during the day, he should already have reached Apta. If he was to go there another three days from now, as promised in the letter, he would have to leave here before tomorrow nightfall at the very latest.

There wasn't so much as the shadow of a person in his surroundings. Sound had died out to the point of it being oppressive.

''I made a stupid mistake.''

The feelings that he had almost forgotten while moving around were unintentionally resurrected. He burned with a fierce regret and his head seemed to be seething.

He had set his resolve when he had written that letter. He did not need Shique to remind him of that. Because so far - all through the fight against Garda in the west - he had not thought about a future in which he would throw off the mask.

''But where was I even looking back then?''

He was always someone who made meticulous preparations, to the point that it irritated his comrades, yet this time he had been in such a rush to move forward that he had completely neglected to observe his surroundings. And as a result, he was now in a situation where he couldn't move at all.

''I wasn't looking at anything. I didn't have a clear answer to who I was or who I wanted to be.''

Without realising he was doing so, Orba took the mask in his hand.

''What do I want to do?''

Over the past three days, he had not once been able to unravel that problem. He could never come to a decision without having doubts.

Thinking of being the Crown Prince of Mephius again, of taking back that face was –

''To stop the war with Taúlia. But what then? Continue as Crown Prince? Plan to get involved in all the wars in this world? Pretend that I can create a world where nobody is ever sad and nobody ever loses their life?''

''Even though I'm no Badyne believer.''

''I'' –

Had wanted to become a hero.

Leading an army of ten thousand, guiding his country to victory, that was the kind of hero he had yearned to be. The kind of existence that would be talked about in future histories along with splendid illustrations.

"Hah," Orba suddenly stood up and exhaled sharply. He nearly pitched forward from the left-over momentum and next drew the invisible sword at his waist and swung it horizontal line.

''Ha'' –

"Ha ha ha."

If there had been someone assimilated into the shadows, closely observing Orba inside that room, they might have wondered if he had finally become mentally unhinged.

Having burst out laughing, Orba rolled on the floor, then looked up towards the ceiling as he repeatedly hit the ground with his fist in a fit of mirth.

Who was he?

He had continued to ask that since early childhood.

His older brother, Roan, had said that no one could know something like that.

His childhood friend, Alice, had said that something like that was stupid.

And then, a bold fourteen-year-old princess from Garbera had asked Orba himself – ''Orba, who am I?''

Orba chortled uncontrollably for a while then, after his laughing fit ended, he suddenly went still as he looked up at the ceiling.

“It’s stupid,” a short whisper fell from his parched lips. “You’re right, Alice. It’s stupid, something like that.”

He closed his eyes.

It was impossible to say who recurrently appeared in his thoughts, nor what scenes or from when and where.

Orba suddenly threw both legs up in the air and then, in the same breath, lifted his body as they swung back to the ground.

''I’ll do it''.

''My opponent in this fight is Guhl. That bastard. The people, the future, like I care about that now''.

''You who would take everything away from me, you who would once again burn the people I know. That’s it. That’s enough''.