Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume10 Chapter3 (section)

=== Part 2 ===

Reinforcements a thousand strong were hurrying from Solon to Nedain when, as though crossing them along the way, the results of the first battle in there reached the capital
the emperor decided to follow up by sending a further one thousand five hundred soldiers. Now that things had come to this, Guhl Mephius also realised that ‘time’ was finally moving again.

However, unlike the trade-rich Birac, Nedain did not have enough surplus to provide food to a large armed force. Naturally, a large number of supplies also had to be transported, and for that, time and money was needed.

In terms of not having enough surplus, Solon had the same issue. In order to consolidate its defensive line, troops from all over the country were amassing in the capital. For now, everything was still fine, but would they really be able to put up the soldiers for several months now that they had lost Birac, the linchpin of the economy?

So even though ‘time’ had started to move, it was still inevitable for him to be hoping for an early decisive battle.

''Maybe'' –

The people, military, and nobles of Mephius all surreptitiously gossiped about the same thing –

''Maybe His Majesty Emperor Guhl will personally take command in this coming battle and head towards Nedain?''

The troops in Nedain would soon be increased, at which point the crown prince’s side would also start amassing the troops that it had stationed at Apta and Birac.

In other words –

Nedain, mocked as a rural backwater, would be the stage of the final battle in a civil war which had begun in a way that no one could have imagined.



Immediately after Jairus Abigoal had returned to Nedain with his troop of reinforcements, Emperor Guhl Mephius finalized his decision.

From now on, they would need to launch large-scale military manoeuvres. And for that, it was necessary to first ensure safety at the rear. The ‘rear’ in this case was not their neighbouring countries, Garbera and Ende, but those who should have been Mephius’ trustworthy vassals and generals. In order to prevent any further dissension, Guhl had decided to clamp down on the internal situation.

“Cancel all scheduled gladiator fights at Solon’s central arena tomorrow. The Saian and Lorgo families are to be hauled there and executed,” he ordered.

The arena would be opened free of charge and all the nobles and soldiers currently in Solon, and did not have urgent military matters to see to, would be obliged to attend.

It would serve as an example to others.

Even though they had expected this to come sooner or later, everyone was shaken.

Rogue was, needless to say, a long-serving general while Odyne was widely known as a strict but capable officer. They were loved by many. Moreover, their respective son and daughter had only just gone through the ceremony for coming of age.

“I saw it with my own eyes.”

In a dingy tavern at the end of a tortuous and unpaved road, a plump man sat, his shoulders quivering. The man had a store near an avenue lined with the mansions of nobles and military officers.

What he had seen was how, soon after the army of the Impostor Crown Prince had taken Birac, the families of Rogue Saian and Odyne Lorgo had been dragged from their residences and led away by soldiers.

“General Lorgo’s daughter was so pale it looked like she might collapse at any moment. Because of that, General Saian’s even younger son was shouting encouragements to her. 'It’s alright, the Heavens know that our fathers have done nothing to be ashamed of, so it’s alright, they’ll definitely come and save us', he said…”

Rogue Saian’s son, Romus, and Odyne Lorgo’s second daughter, Lannie, had both taken part in the old ceremony of riding a dragon’s back at that year’s Founding Festival, so the townspeople knew their names and faces.

“I thought they’d only been arrested as a warning.”

“They can’t really be going to execute them…”

“Nah, won’t the crown prince come racing up at the last minute. He’s like the main character in a heroic tale, so I’m sure he’ll create a miracle this time too.”

“Idiot, don’t talk without thinking. Do you want to be executed as well?”

“And in the first place, it’s all because of that scoundrel who calls himself the crown prince that the generals’ fates have veered off course.”

The liquor flowed but the guests’ faces remained gloomy.

That night, the same scene and the same conversation were playing out throughout Mephius. Not only among the people but also among the chief retainers serving the imperial family. Although they avoided gathering or dining together as much as possible. Because if they did, they might receive unwanted enquiries from the emperor about secretly gathering and sneakily plotting.

Not a single noble or officer had appealed to the emperor to halt the executions. There had, however, been an incident in which long-time servants of both families had thronged before the palace gates in tears, but they had quickly been sent away by the guards.

It turned into a long night for many of those living in Solon.

Including for Simon Rodloom.

He was the emperor’s longest-serving retainer and was currently confined to his residence, accused of having remonstrated His Majesty about the crown prince when the latter was ‘still alive’.

The inside of the mansion was as silent as a grave.

Which might seem perfectly natural as it was the dead of night, but there was no hint of human presence.

Simon was alone at his desk in his study, reading quietly. His only light was a candle placed near him.

He continued reading in silence for a long time, before finally giving a single sigh and closing his book. Looking behind him, there was a pile of other books.

They were all the ones that he had been interested in but had never had time to read until now, only instructing his pages to collect them for him.

He had read them all now.

Simon stood up from his chair and stretched. He went to stand near the window and looked up at the night sky. Judging by the stars, he guessed that there was another three hours until dawn.

It was a long night.

Although he appeared to be fully concentrated on chasing the words on the page, intrusive thoughts tended to pop into his head one after another, hindering his reading and difficult to drive away.

''I’ve still got a long way to go'' – every time it happened, he reflected on his own immaturity. Because of that, he had found it surprisingly difficult to finish the last three books.

Simon left the side of the window and returned to the middle of the room.

“Well then,” murmuring absentmindedly, he picked up the candle from the desk.

And tilted it across the top of the pile of books. He brought it closer and closer, without paying any attention to how the melted wax was dripping down.

He did the same with every one of the heaps of books piled throughout the room.

Finally, he returned to the centre of the room and nonchalantly tossed the candlestick to the floor.

He closed his eyes.

Acrid smoke filled his mouth and nostrils.

Even with his eyelids closed, the light of the fire intruded on his retinas.

When this moment came, what would he think, what would he feel? Simon had been wondering about that for a long time. It was an interesting question.

But now that the time had finally arrived, not a single word formed in his mind.

Simon smiled unintentionally. There had been so much turmoil and hesitation, so much reminiscing and dredging up of what seemed like every one of his memories between the time when he had formulated this plan and today. Perhaps he had already used up all of his words somewhere along that way.

Except...  

''I would have liked to see him.''

A thought suddenly came to his mind.

''The Gil Mephius of rumours.''

The crown prince who now stood at a height, and with power great enough, to cross weapons with the current emperor, Guhl Mephius.

The world called him an impostor. They said that Rogue and Odyne simply craved power and had set up a different person who happened to look like the prince so that they could rebel.

But if he had to say... Gil had started to behave like a different person long ago, when he was ‘still alive’. 

One only had to think about how he had saved the princess in Seirin Valley and slain Ryucown at Zaim Fortress, about how he had put down Zaat’s rebellion in Solon before it even happened, or again about the time when he had gone to Apta and repelled a surprise attack from the Taúlian army.

The same Crown Prince who had been mocked as a ‘fool’ not only by his father but also by the retainers.

It was not that Simon had not also found it strange. Compared to the other retainers, he had been somewhat closer to the prince, since he had been acting as his guardian. For that reason alone, Simon should have been having serious misgivings, yet he had solved all of his doubts with only a few words.

''He resembles him.''

More than the prince changing, it seemed to Simon that day by day, he was becoming more like a certain someone. In which case, he reasoned, it was normal since they were father and son.

When he had heard that Gil, who was supposed to be dead, was actually alive and was fighting against the emperor, he had simply thought that – '''''You''' would probably have done the same thing.''

In other words, when he was young and still the crown prince, and if his father had behaved like the current emperor was now, wouldn’t Guhl Mephius also have led the warhorses to fight against him?
Simon Rodloom believed he would have.

And because of that, right now, he felt a strong desire to see Gil Mephius one more time.

And if that wish were to be granted, he thought that he would want to serve and support that Crown Prince Gil. It would feel as though the ideal nation, the ideal future, that he and his friend used to talk of together throughout the night were there before him.

''But'' – 

Simon did not have that right. Or at least, he himself did not believe that he did.

He had not been able to support his friend.

As time had passed and they had aged, had it not perhaps been he himself who had first abandoned the ideals of their youth?

If and when Gil Mephius brought about a new future for Mephius, there would be no role for him in that future. If the old was going to be defeated, better to leave by oneself.

''And a new future will start to be spun, rising from the corpses of the defeated and the ashes of burned down palaces.''

Simon remembered how just the other day, the Garberan princess had come to visit this room which was now filled with smoke and heat.

Gil and Vileena.

From the budding signs, both might be in love with the one before them.	

''In which case, there’s nothing more.''

There was nothing more that he needed to think about, hope for, or worry about.

Simon’s shoulders relaxed.

In that moment, it was as though he could feel the wind in the wilderness.

''Oh!''

Although he had believed that there was no longer anything left for him to look back on again, right now, Simon was being buffeted by a strong wind as he galloped his cherished horse through a barren ravine.

Mephius had very few wild horses. There were only narrow strips of land in which emaciated horses could graze, so Simon was proud of his mount which he had only just bought from Garbera.

He remembered that that childhood acquaintance of his, who was likewise riding beside him, had been envious of it.

“Sell it to me, Simon.”

“Hmm, what to do…”

“Not just for money. For the daughter of the Evee House that you’re so infatuated with. Shall I write a letter on your behalf, since you’re so incompetent with a pen? No, wait, I can just use the imperial family’s authority to order your marriage.”

“They’re already rumours of how you’re extending your evil influence.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Oh, look over there. Do you see that rocky mountain like the horn of a dragon on this side of the ravine? If you can get there faster than me, I’ll think about it.”

“I want your horse for its speed. So aren’t you getting the order wrong?”

“You never know till you try. Well then, let’s go!”

“Wait, you insolent cur. You’d better prepare yourself because when I become emperor, I’ll have you locked up somewhere where the light doesn’t shine. Dammit, wait.”

The two of them galloped on, laughing.

In the present, his eyes shut, Simon Rodloom was also laughing. He opened his mouth a little too wide and smoke got in, making him cough violently.

But even so, Simon continued to laugh.



Early the following morning, Guhl Mephius suddenly sat bolt upright in his bed.

These past few days, the emperor had been sleeping lightly. He had barely gone to sleep when he was already getting up and heading for his study or his office. Because of that, those who served him closely all tended to be sleep-deprived.

Recently, he had not allowed Empress Melissa to enter his room either.

All alone, Guhl wiped away his night’s sweat with a somewhat dazed look on his face. Perhaps he had a premonition.

The emperor had soon changed his clothes and left the room, whereupon he noticed that the attendant who was already there waiting for him looked pale.

“What?” Guhl asked without any preliminary. “What’s happened?”

“Y-Your Majesty. We have been contacted by the soldiers from the capital’s guards. T-There has been a fire at the Rodloom mansion.”

“What?”

The emperor’s always glaring eyes became even more ferocious than usual, just as though the attendant he was staring at was a messenger from the underworld come to bring him notice of his own death.

“And Simon?”

“Although the soldiers on lookout raced to the rescue as soon as they noticed… They only found him after the fire had been extinguished.” He paused and visibly gulped, then continued with his head lowered. “He... He had already p-passed away.”

Guhl stayed silent for a while.

The attendant continued to talk tearfully. Recently, Simon had frequently made merry with the servants at his residence until late into the night. When a soldier on guard, alerted by the noise, had peered suspiciously through the window, he had met Simon’s eye. “It’s only at this age that I’m learning to appreciate alcohol,” he had said, laughing while a little shame-faced.

For as long as Guhl had known him, Simon had practically been a teetotaller. Yet last night, Simon had gotten thoroughly drunk and had flown into a rage against his servants. “Get out. Don’t let me see you again!” He had screamed and evicted them from the house.

Although they were confused by the change in their master, the servants thought that he was simply not used to indulging in alcohol and that he would be back to the usual Lord Simon by tomorrow morning, so they had left for the time being.

And then came the fire.

Simon had probably mishandled fire while drunk.

“Idiot.” After a long silence, the emperor shook his head. His lips twisted into an eerie, scornful smile. “No matter how old he’s gotten, that’s not like Simon. Is he trying to imitate that pesky fake crown prince? Pretending to be dead so that you can appear before me later? Search for him. He should be nearby.”

Considering the order just given, it was hard to tell whether or not the emperor had lost his mind.

Thereupon, a new report arrived. One of the pages who had served Simon was at the gate and was requesting an audience with His Majesty.

The imperial court was already abuzz with news of what had happened.

“Show him in,” the emperor gave his permission.

The page who had been granted an audience was a young boy with an honest-looking face. A single glance was enough to conclude that he had a lot in common with Simon. He was probably of good pedigree and, immediately upon learning of Simon’s death, he had set out to accomplish his duty to the best of his ability; even though it meant appearing before the emperor himself and even though he was currently as white as a sheet.

“The day before yesterday, Lord Rodloom called for me in the evening and handed me ''this''. ‘Deliver it to the emperor the day after tomorrow’, he said.”

It was a wooden box of a size that could be carried under one arm. At first the page had been hesitant to take it since it was impossible for someone in his position to meet with the emperor. Moreover, those who were close to Simon were being kept away from the palace.

But Simon had simply smiled enigmatically. “What? There’s a small trick to it. You’ll understand the day after tomorrow. His Majesty will certainly agree to meet you,” he had said.

Because when he was saying it, he had looked as though he were looking forward to that time, the page had thought that he was probably preparing some kind of joke and so, in the end, he had taken the box. Not for a second had he thought that the ‘trick’ Simon spoke of would be related to his own death.

“Of course,” the emperor almost bellowed, “damn you Simon, of course you set fire to your own house. Show me.”

Normally, the emperor would never take something directly from the hands of someone from the lower classes. It would always pass through the hands of a third person who check it for safety reasons, but now the emperor practically snatched the box with his own hands.

He lifted the lid.

His expression turned completely unreadable.

His previous scornful smile had already vanished, but it was replaced with neither anger nor sadness. the emperor ordered everyone to clear out then returned to his bedroom with the box in his hands.
Guhl Mephius took out what was in the box and lifted it up.

An old-style handgun that gleamed dark in the morning sun, which was pouring through a gap in the curtains.

It was in mint condition. Simon being Simon, even if he had kept it for self-defence, he probably had not fired it once, even to try it out.

There was nothing else inside the box. Not even a letter. It had only contained that handgun.

When he checked, there was a single round loaded.

Guhl spun the cylinder then pulled the trigger.

The response was an empty click. He continued to pull again and again. Spinning the cylinder each time.
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v10 151.jpg|thumb]]
“Well then,” Guhl muttered in a low voice, as if he did not want anyone else to hear, even though there was no one else in the room, “wouldn’t it be easy to blow my brains out with this?”

He could read Simon’s mind. His motive had probably been something close to what Guhl had just mentioned.

''To use this to cut my life short or to aim at yours – you know which would, by rights, have been the best thing to do'' –  was what Simon wanted to say.

And the emperor, of course, understood why. It was because of the families of the two generals who had joined the crown prince’s side. He had expected some kind of a reaction from Simon immediately after he had decreed the executions, and had in fact found it strange when there had been nothing but silence.

“And for that very reason…”

For that very reason, Simon should have picked up the gun and carried out a heroic suicide. It would have been far more effective if he had done so. And there should have been at least one letter. Simon should have left words of reproof against the emperor before shooting himself in the head, words which would have resonated with the many nobles and commanders who admired Simon. He would thus have earned fame for his chivalry and his name would have remained for a long time in Mephius.

Instead of which, Simon deliberately chose not to leave any words behind and to act out the shameful role of one who had caused a fire after getting drunk.

There again, the emperor could read his intentions.

Even in exchange for his own life, he had been worried about his old friend. Since it was fine as long as the emperor alone received his message, he had set fire to his own house.

“Damned imbecile!” This time, the emperor roared out loud. He paced up and down in long strides, acting as though he were trying to seize Simon, who could no longer be there. “Astounding. Does even a man like you not understand? Don’t you understand?”

Guhl’s eyes were flaring and his cheeks were quivering furiously. Drool flying from his open mouth, he spat out one angry roar after another.

“That damned imbecile. Fool. Unrivalled idiot. Are you happy now? Using your life however you want, without my permission. Are you happy now that you’re looking down at me from far above?”

Then, the emperor the handgun that he was still holding and held it level with his heart.

He pulled the trigger.

A gunshot resounded and a hole was drilled into the room’s expensive furniture.

“Your Majesty!”

He could hear his attendant soldiers yelling from the other side of the door. “Leave it!” He yelled as he contemplated the gunpowder smoke rising from the muzzle.

“A funeral gun salute for you, you bastard. Watch it well, Simon!” He flung those words in a shout.

– Later, the emperor had Simon’s remains carried to the Dragon Gods’ temple.

Since the funeral of the former chairman of the Council, Simon Rodloom, took precedence, the execution of Rogue and Odyne’s families was temporarily suspended.

Simon’s death however was not without effect.

For example, the footsteps of the soldiers who were assembling in Solon from all over grew sluggish along the way. Because lords like those of Kilro and Idoro came up with reasons to delay dispatching their troops, the reinforcements which should have been sent to Nedain still had yet to be organised.

More than ever before, there were voices openly whispering their support for Crown Prince Gil Mephius and the retainers, sensing the way the wind was blowing, found opportunities to meet in secret and seriously discuss their future course of action.

The wind, yes.

It was certainly blowing in favour of Gil Mephius.

Soon after Simon lost his life, Garbera and Ende started to move.