Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume9 Chapter1 (section)

=== Part 1 ===

“Crown Prince Gil Mephius.”
 


Even though he himself had shouted out the name, Nabarl Metti could not believe that the person before his eyes was real.

He had never spoken in person with the prince but he had seen his face when at Court. That face was identical to that of the person in front of him. He was almost certain of it. Nonetheless, Nabarl's mind was in turmoil since Crown Prince Gil Mephius had lost his life right here, in Apta, and should no longer be in this world. Nor was it limited to Nabarl, his nearby subordinates, and even the war prisoners who had ridden in the same boats from the opposite shore of the River Yunos, were in the same state. Everyone was holding their breath and wore identically astounded expressions. It was as though time had stopped in that instant, until the man before Nabarl's eyes suddenly bent down and picked up something that had tumbled to the ground.

It was the sword which had dropped from Nabarl's hand just a moment ago. Its glittering tip which, just like the surface of the river, blindingly reflected the light of the morning sun, was offhandedly thrust towards Nabarl's own neck.

"Nabarl, was it? You've got quite some nerve to point a sword at me."

"Ah, n-no, that was..."

"I know. It's the proof that you're diligent in your duties."

The man who had exactly the same face as the prince and who talked in exactly the same voice as the prince smiled faintly, and returned the sword to Nabarl's waist.

The colour drained from Nabarl's face, just as the energy did from his entire body, leaving him looking faint and about to collapse at any moment.

Imperial Prince Gil Mephius left Nabarl in that state and started walking briskly. The soldiers hurriedly made way. He continued on, the rows of their bewildered faces flanking him on either side. Rogue Saian and Odyne Lorgo followed a little behind him.

As they climbed up the path carved into the cliff, cross-shaped stakes came into view, driven into the ground of the open training space. There were more than fifty of them. Tied high up on each one were men who were stripped almost naked. Gil pointed to them.

"Aren't they all former Imperial Guards?" he asked.

"Aye'" replied Rogue.

"Didn’t I ask you, General Rogue, to look after them in an earlier letter."

"Indeed. They were once serving under me."

The prince curled his lips in a way that did not make it seem like he was amused. "And yet now, they're tied up. Certainly, most of them are former slaves so they must be guilty of some kind of lapse."

"No. Given that His Majesty the Emperor has stated that the west had robbed Your Highness of your life and that testimonies from the Imperial Guards differed from that, Sir Nabarl deemed them to be suspicious and was going to have them executed."

"That's strange. As to why it's strange… Well, I'm still alive. Aren't I, Odyne?" keeping his eyes lowered, Odyne Lorgo gave a slight nod. "I'll take charge of them again. That fine with you, Rogue?"
"The prince's word is my command."

Both Generals Rogue and Odyne interacted perfectly naturally with the prince, as though he had never been gone – or in other words, as though he had never been believed dead. In actual fact, their feelings, as though shaken by a tempest, were just as chaotic as Nabarl's, but they did not let it show on their faces.

Nabarl caught up with them at that point.

"P-Please wait, Your Highness."

"What is it?" the prince did not even look at him.

Sweat glistened on Nabarl's rather fat cheeks. "H-His Majesty, this... Does he know that you are alive, Your Highness?"

"Right now, I don't have the leisure to be giving an account of every little thing."

"H-However, on His Majesty's orders, Apta is currently under my jurisdiction. And so are those former Imperial Guards."

"So then, was their execution ordered by my father?"

Nabarl was unable to utter another word. Sentencing the former Imperial Guards to execution by firing squad and undoubtedly been his own doing. Even though he had made that decision based entirely on the belief that the emperor would not object to it, he could not help but hesitate to carry it out now that it was being stopped by Gil Mephius, the heir to the throne.

Gil pressed forward in silence towards his intended location.
 


A crowd of people were gathered in that open space. Since it was usually used as a training ground for the dragons, it occupied an especially wide area within the fortress.

The execution of the former Imperial Guards, bound at the stakes, that was scheduled to take place was currently on hold. There had been a report earlier that Taúlian soldiers had appeared on the opposite bank of the River Yunos, and Nabarl's subordinates, as well as the generals, had all left because of it.

The people of Apta had been watching the execution of those involved in the prince's assassination from the other side of the palisade, but at this point, most of them had scurried home. Even those who had stayed behind, only to see things through with their own eyes, were understandably anxious.

For their part, the soldiers who had their guns at the ready were restless and looked as if they were wondering whether they would be ordered to intercept the enemy. The same held true for Gareth, the one who was in charge of them and also the one who had originally proposed that the Imperial Guards be executed.

Then –

"General!"

At long last, General Nabarl could be seen returning along the road on the western side. Rogue and Odyne as well. The soldiers who were likewise following in succession were not wearing tense expressions either. At any rate, it seemed that Taúlia had not trespassed across the border.

However, sensing that something even stranger was going on, Gareth closed his mouth shut.

The people's gazes were also spontaneously attracted to a certain point, and then, as though by common agreement, their mouths all dropped open vacantly.

Apta had only just greeted the morning but, for a moment, in that one corner of it, a silence as still as death reigned. Gareth, the soldiers who had been about to pull the trigger at his command, the former Imperial Guards whose four limbs were bound to the cross-shaped stakes, and also the people of Apta. Nobody uttered a sound.

The crunching sound of footsteps from the line of soldiers treading firmly across the ground was strangely loud. Then in that moment someone cried out –

"It's the Prince!"

From the other side of the palisade, one of the children pointed towards the head of the group. A man who appeared to be his father hurriedly caught him in his arms but, as though it had been a cue, a commotion ran throughout the surroundings.

"That person is..."

"I-Impossible. It can't be."

"No, but... Any way you look at him..."

The people did not erupt in delight but simply looked at each other as though hoping that someone would be able to transform their doubts into conviction, then had their eyes irresistibly pulled back in the same direction – towards the person with the same face as Prince Gil.

Although the Imperial Guards, who had been awaiting execution, and the riflemen, who had conversely been about to carry out that execution, all had their eyes open round in surprise; none of them could formulate any definite words or approach to the situation.

The temporary execution site was filled with a bizarre atmosphere.

Amidst it, Rogue Saian separated himself from the line of men and surreptitiously called for his subordinates. These soldiers had been lying hidden and, the moment the execution began, they had been going to save the Imperial Guards and restrain Nabarl and Gareth.

They received new orders from the veteran general and, although somewhat bewildered, put them into effect. Several of them drew out a single stake, cautiously laid it down and carefully cut loose the Imperial Guard with the use of their short swords. First one, then another - one-by-one, they released each of the prisoners from their bindings.

The people watched the proceedings in growing amazement and with a greater clamour than earlier.

''You...''

When Gowen, the former commander of the Imperial Guards, was freed from the stake, his gaze met Gil's.  For now, Gil could only acknowledge those emotions with his eyes. Next to Gowen was Pashir, the swordsman who had formerly been appointed captain of the Imperial Guards' Infantry Troop. His face was all but expressionless.

"W-What is this!" Gareth called out in a panicked-sounding voice as Nabarl approached. His gaze was also glued to Gil and he did not so much as glance at his superior officer.

"Don't you get it!" Nabarl spat, his complexion devoid of colour. "The ways of the imperial family aren't for us to understand, tsk. Anyway, the execution is suspended."

At the same time, probably because they had already heard the rumour, more and more people were coming back to the other side of the palisade. As one by one the number of people increased, the population's astonished wonder was shared among the crowd. Although they were somewhat hesitant, they carried a faint hope in their hearts which went along with the actual sight before them, and it was undoubtedly with hope that they called out.

"Prince."

"Your Highness Gil."

When Gil responded with a slight lift of his hand, a crack opened in the people's hearts. And then all at once, the feelings that they had been tightly holding back were set loose from that crack.

"I-It's Lord Gil."

"He's alive."

"Everyone, His Highness Gil is alive!"

All around, shouts started to arise. Caught up in the raging fires of delirious enthusiasm, even the former Imperial Guards, who had only just been freed from the stakes and who had still been wearing uneasy expressions, all at once went wild, jumping up and down on the spot and hugging each other.

"You really believed in me," was the first thing Gil said. "I'm grateful, Rogue, Odyne."

"It is we who are grateful."

"It is good that you returned. Welcome back."

It was probable that not even facing certain death would cause the two generals' attitude, which was as firm as a boulder, to crumble; yet right now, their eyes were sparkling and shimmering like those of young men.

Gil Mephius gave a small smile then said, "I'm sure there's a pile of things to talk about but there's a lot that needs to be dealt with first."

"Yes." Rogue glanced around at their surroundings. This small part of Apta was overrun by the population and not a single person seemed about to leave.

''We should send in the soldiers and have them move for now'' – As Rogue was about to suggest that, the prince said something unexpected.

"Rogue, I want you to dispatch a ship from your fleet. A battleship seating ten or twenty, maybe."

"A ship?" Rogue blinked, in a way that was very unlike him. "But, to where?"

"To the west, across the River Yunos and inside Taúlia’s domains. There's no need to arm the ship. There's someone there who is waiting to be fetched."

"What, how?"

At Gil's lightly spoken words of sending a ship to the west, the two generals once again stared at him in amazement. Even without taking into account the long history between Mephius and the west, and simply considering the recent battle between the two countries, this was an order that defied common sense.

''And so –''

To Rogue and Odyne, what Gil had done and what he would do from now on, looked every bit a dazzling as the morning sun which was illuminating every face there.