Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume10 Chapter6 (section)

=== Part 2 ===

Salamand Fogel’s name would certainly go down in History.

 

At any rate, Salamand himself and the five hundred men who had followed him as part of his suicide squad were all convinced of it.

Garbera’s royal family was on the verge of losing its pride, so they would thrust the true meaning of honour before it, bravely fight in enemy territory, and there die a splendid and heroic death. Starting with Salamand’s, all five hundred of their names would be immortalised, engraved on a stone monument.

Still, it had been more than seven days since they had crossed the border and, although they had been searching and preparing for death, Salamand and the others were, not surprisingly, becoming impatient and irritated.

Partly as a feint, they had taken their time progressing north along the Domick Flats, but there had been no particular movement from the enemy side. At most, and only very rarely, they saw airships flying in the distance, probably to check their location.

''In that case…'' They had no choice but the make a move themselves.

Salamand Fogel firmly set a course for Solon. Along the way, there were any number of small castles and forts set up to defend the capital. He intended to attack them.

That night, he talked about the plan while they held their last supper around the campfire. The provisions from the Mephian village had now run out. The suicide squad however did not behave tragically: everyone sang and danced while their excitement swelled, even without there being any alcohol.

At dawn, they leapt on their horses.

And galloped forward.

The sun illuminated the faces of the Garberan knights with its pale light.

They came to a meadow of short grass.

“Enemies.”

The scouts who had been sent out ahead had returned. They hurried up to Salamand. “Mephian riders are coming this way,” they reported.

''Uwah!'' – a commotion ran throughout the troop. Salamand’s expression turned tense. When he asked for details however, it appeared that the enemy numbered roughly a hundred. Moreover, it was a group of riders who were not pulling any cannons with them.

“A hundred?” Salamand’s voice sounded frankly displeased.

''Have they sent out emissaries, at this point?'' It looked like they still thought that he would heed their remonstrances. Had they brought a few weapons to demonstrate their military might while intending on playing up the alliance?

“What should we do?” His subordinates asked, their expressions disappointed. “Should we send a letter to Guhl? Something like ‘come out and fight us, you bastard’ might work.”

“Yeah, it might but,” Salamand looked as though he was gritting his teeth, “the first thing we’ll do is put down that one hundred. We’ll send all their heads to Solon. That will be better than any letter to show Guhl how serious we are.”

“Uwah!” Fired up, the knights once again raised their voices all together. This was the fight they had been waiting for until they were tired of waiting, it was as though their spirit was radiating from them and piercing out from their armour; each as determined as a giant who knew no fear.

Salamand had his men take up a seven-column formation and they galloped off, whipping their horses onwards.

The area had little in the way of cover. There were barely any dips and rolls on the ground’s surface. When it came to the fight, it would be a head-on collision.

''Right'' – under his helmet, Salamand gloated at the thought of being able to show off the mettle of Garberan knights.

Before long, the figures of the ‘enemy’ came into sight. As reported, a hundred or so armoured riders were approaching in a line. About half of them seemed to have guns slung across their backs.

From the horses flanking the leader of the group on either side fluttered the banner of Mephius. Salamand felt as though the blood coursing through him was growing wilder and wilder. Yet –

''Huh?'' – He noticed the mounted soldier who was in the lead.

He could not help but notice.

Tiny.

His visor was lowered so that it was impossible to make out his features, but he was surely still a child. Wondering what they were planning, Salamand raised his sword and gave his men the order to hold.

The enemy group similarly halted their horses. It was that tiny warrior who had given the order. In which case, he looked like he was the commander after all.

''The young son of some renowned noble, or maybe''… a youth connected to the imperial family perhaps?

At any rate, it looked as though the enemy had, from the start, no intention of engaging in battle here. Salamand’s expression twisted at the realisation.

The two forces faced each other from across a distance of about a hundred metres<ref> Slightly less than 110 yards.</ref>. There was a gentle wind and the national flags that each side had raised wafted listlessly overhead.

If Salamand’s men were to seize their spears or the swords at their waist, the Mephian soldiers would go for their guns.

Only the sound of the horses’ rough breathing disturbed the silence.

“Parley. I wish to parley with the knights from Garbera,” the tiny soldier at the head of the Mephian side spoke.

A high and childish voice, as expected.

“You have come trampling over Mephian territory and are on course for the imperial capital, Solon. Turn your horses around immediately and return to your own land. In his generosity, and in the name of the alliance and its agreements, His Imperial Majesty Guhl Mephius will then pardon your crimes.”

“Ridiculous,” Salamand’s voice, in sharp contrast, was deep and rough. “Sending out a child like you; Guhl knows no shame. Pardon our crimes? The ones who have committed crimes that defy the heavens are you Mephians.”

“What crime have we committed?”

“As if you didn’t know. The one against Garbera’s exalted royal family, against Lady Vileena Owell. Bring her here to us. Otherwise, we have no reason to listen to the likes of you.”

“Why do we need to bring Princess Vileena to you?”

Asking such a question at this point in time – Salamand sneered from atop his horse.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. Since the princess isn’t here, I won’t stoop to exchanging words with the likes of you lot. You’d best hurry on back to your castle. If you don’t, we’ll have to give a spanking to that green ass of yours!” Salamand roared, brandishing his spear, while his men laughed jeeringly.

“I see.” Without the slightest trace of fear, the enemy commander nodded once then brought his hands to his helmet. “In that case, with ''this'' you should be willing to listen, Salamand.”

“What!” Having his name called without any kind of courtesy, Salamand’s smile vanished.

The enemy commander removed his helmet in one swift movement.

In the same moment, the platinum blond hair that seemed to have been bundled beneath flowed free and fell shimmering past her shoulders.

Salamand and the five hundred Garberan knights all gasped for breath.

A person who could not possibly have been there had suddenly appeared. It was as though the dead had suddenly resurrected from beyond the grave. It had been just the same when Gil Mephius had revived in Apta.

“P-Princess…”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v10 289.jpg|thumb]]
Salamand had now lost his voice as well as his smile, and in his place, it was one of the knights behind him who choked out the words.

“Princess Vileena!”

“Impossible,” Salamand yelled, his eyes bulging.

“Now then,” for her part, Vileena Owell addressed him in a perfectly cool voice, “is this enough for you, Salamand, knight of Garbera? With this, you have neither pretext nor just cause to invade Mephian territory. I trust that you are satisfied since I, Vileena Owell, am here as you requested.”

“T-That…” Salamand bent forward as though to avoid some projectile which had suddenly come flying at him. “W-Why… Princess, how can you be here? Why?”

“Why?” Sitting on her horse, Vileena tilted her head. It was a very girlish gesture but, immediately afterwards, she suddenly glared at the ‘enemy commander’. “Do you not understand, knave?” She bellowed.

Salamand’s expression was exactly that of someone who has just swallowed solid food whole and without chewing.

“Why am I – I who was born and raised in Garbera – why am I here? I will tell you why, Salamand. It is so that two countries who have more than a decade of sorrowful history between them can join hands and walk together towards the same future. So that soldiers and the innocent populace no longer have to suffer the ravages of war. So that the two flags are no longer sullied with blood. It is for that sake that I, Vileena Owell, crossed the border to marry His Highness Gil Mephius, Crown Prince of Mephius. Now, Salamand, it’s ''your'' turn. Why are you here? You need only answer this: having stepped over the border, do you or do you not carry a greater cause and greater resolve than I do? Well!”

Salamand Fogel had his mouth gaping open. His tough body seemed to have been ripped to shreds by a few words from a fragile young girl.

Still, he just managed to squeeze out his voice.

“B-But…”

Salamand had marched his warhorses on the premise that he would die. Being exposed to bullets would have left him utterly unaffected, but for this kind of predicament to befall him was something he had never even imagined.

“From what I have heard, Crown Prince Gil has risen against the emperor, and the country is currently torn apart. Additionally, the emperor has declared that Gil an impostor. Princess, you yourself are being exposed to danger which…”

“And did you think that justified the actions you took? The matter is unrelated to Garbera. To say nothing of the fact that you, who are not part of the royal family, have no authority to interfere.”

“Your pardon but this matter is by no means unrelated! If Mephius lapses into chaos, anyone can tell that Garbera, as its neighbouring country, is at risk of having the sparks fall on it. All the more so since Guhl makes light of the alliance. In which case, we…”

“So tedious!” 

Vileena curtly brushed him off then pulled a handgun from her waist and aimed at Salamand’s head. Her actions were so fast and so precise that for a moment, the knights were not able to grasp whether this was really happening.

“P-Princess…”

“Do you still not understand? ''I am here.'' This is proof that Mephius and Garbera are tied in an alliance. The one making light of that alliance is you, Salamand. Fine then, continue forward. That will be the same as kicking my body away with your dirty feet and trampling over my head, since I am supposed to be the bridge between these two countries. It’s fine, aim for Solon and march forward. That will be the same...”

“Princess!”

The reason why Salamand and the five hundred soldiers following him had yelled out was because Vileena had changed the aim of the muzzle and now had it pressed against her own temple.

“…That will be the same as acting in exchange for my life.”

Vileena’s palely smouldering eyes stared straight at Salamand.
 


There was nobody there who truly realised that ''this'' was a repeat of Zaim Fortress.

Which was natural enough, since Salamand believed in Ryucown – who had fallen at Zaim – like he would a god and had not been present to witness his end.

Of those there, amidst the gentle breeze blowing across the meadow, the only one who knew was the fourteen-year-old princess. At that time too, Vileena had pressed a gun against her temple. Turning herself into a hostage, so to speak, she had wanted to dissuade Ryucown from his path of violence.

She had, however, failed.

He had been on the verge of cutting her head off with his own sword. Ryucown, who had loved Garbera more than anyone – and who had been more a knight than anyone; in the end, he had been suppressed by Crown Prince Gil's order, against whom he had been fighting, and by Orba’s sword, who had infiltrated Zaim at Gil’s command.

''This time'' – she was determined.

Of course, she was not without fear. While she was doing this, soldiers, seized by frenzy, might pull the trigger of their guns; and in the next instant, the girl’s fragile body – eyes, nose, mouth, chest, limbs – would be pierced through with lead bullets. 

The beat her heart was drumming to was so fast that she could no longer keep up with it; yet at the same time, the interval between each individual beat was so long and sluggish, that it was hard to believe it was still beating at all.

If her overflowing fighting spirit were to ebb for even a moment, tears would, without a doubt, well up in her eyes and she would burst into uncontrollable sobbing. However –

''I won’t cry anymore'' – Vileena had decided.

At Zaim Fortress, she had made the mistake of crying. She was no longer the little girl from back then. Her doe-like eyes would not be wet with tears a second time in front of soldiers.

“Will you kill me, Salamand?” Vileena Owell asked, pushing down all those many emotions.

“What are you saying?”

“At the very end, Ryucown turned his sword against me. I am asking you if you intend to do the same.”

“T-The general… Something like that, he…” Salamand shook his head as though he was feeling shaken.

“You resemble Ryucown. Except smaller and distorted. That is what you are, Salamand Fogel. A tiny, pitiful existence clinging to Ryucown’s grave and bawling your eyes out because you do not have the strength to accept his death.”

Salamand was trembling all over. The knights spoke not a word. In that, they were identical to the soldiers that the princess had brought with her.

''Amazing. Amazing. You’re awesome, Little Princess!''

Even while admiration was plastered all over his face, the Imperial Guard called Alnakk softly and slowly reached for the scabbard at his waist. The reason for that was because he recognised that look of Salamand’s. It was back when he used to play with a boy from his neighbourhood who had been about the same age as him. He had looked after him like a little brother but one day, for some reason or another, things had turned into his making fun of him. Even though it had not been anything that awful, the boy had suddenly lost his temper and struck at him with a nearby vase.

Salamand’s expression looked a lot like his had.

“Ah… I… I…” Salamand’s voice was like a groan, “This is where I die!”

As sharp as an arrow, he propelled his horse forward.

He readied his spear. Its tip was aimed at Princess Vileena. He saw that she had moved the handgun away from her own head.

Salamand was not aiming for the princess herself.

He intended to pass by her flank and attack the Mephian soldiers. Dying in a fight against Mephian troops was the ideal he craved to the point of insanity. It would have been one thing if there had still been hope for dying a glorious death, but after having been cornered mentally, he was taking his ideals for reality.

the princess’ pale face was directly opposite Salamand, so, still riding his horse hard, he had it move sideways. He whipped it again.

Alnakk reacted faster than anyone. He kicked his horse’s flanks and drew his sword from its sheath.

He had jumped forward to protect the princess but as Salamand’s momentum carried on unabated, it looked as though he was going to pass straight by her and arrive right in front of him.

''Dammit!'' At this rate, Salamand’s spear would pierce through his chest.

A gunshot like the roar of a wild beast rang out, drowning out the sound of the wind.

Salamand lurched in his saddle. He toppled sideways then, after a strangely slow fall, slammed into the ground.

“Ah!”

Who was it who shouted out? Was it Alnakk, some other Mephian soldier, or perhaps a Garberan knight?

Gunpowder smoke was coming from the gun muzzle that Vileena had raised to shoulder height. The princess turned her horse around and guided it to a position from which she could look straight down at the fallen Salamand.

“Is he dead?” she asked.

The nearby Alnakk, still dumbfounded, looked down at Salamand out of reflex.

“No, he is unconscious. I don’t know if he will wake up though,” he answered.
 
The bullet had hit Salamand in the back but it had not penetrated into it. Blood spread out from beneath his body.

''I shot to kill though.'' Vileena however did not say that out loud.

Something was caught in her chest. It was fine for now since her resolve was set, but she felt so shaky that if that resolve slipped, she would probably throw up as soon as she opened her mouth.

Vileena tightened her expression and turned her gaze towards the Garberan knights.

Of the more than five hundred of them, not one had moved. If Salamand had been shot by a Mephian soldier, any number of them would probably have surged forward for revenge. But the bullet had been fired by Princess Vileena, the one whom Salamand had himself brandished as his cause. When Salamand was felled, the sheer shock caused the Garberan soldier who had hoisted the national flag to drop it to the ground.

It was a strange twist of fate.

Once, there had been knights who followed Ryucown in his quest to recover chivalry.

Once, there had been soldiers who agreed with Raswan Bazgan’s cry of wresting back supremacy for the west.

And now, there were those who had travelled along with Salamand Fogel on his journey towards death.

All of them, whatever the ideals they had cherished, had found their path blocked by the very princess they had hoped to share those ideals with.

Vileena, who had twice experienced this scene, did not turn her eyes away from their stricken faces.

“Royalty is something that cannot exist alone,” she murmured. “It’s only when there are retainers and the people that royalty can be royalty. Then what does royalty do? It shows the way. That way may go against the dictates of the heart. But desperately trying to correct that will give rise… Will sometimes give rise to such terrible strife that there is no recovering from it.”

Both Garbera and Mephius were currently in that situation.

If taking action in that situation was an error, then Gil Mephius was unquestionably in the wrong.

Vileena Owell did not have a clear answer either.

One of the knights turned his horse around and fled from there. Another, then another followed suit. Vileena did not pursue them. Perhaps there were those among them who had not yet given up, and who still intended to gather companions to die in Mephius.

However, they would no longer be able to dress up their military action as some great cause; not now that their ringleader, Salamand Fogel, had been apprehended in Mephius at the hands of none other than Princess Vileena.  Theirs would simply be a meaningless death that would achieve nothing for their country.

Vileena quietly brushed back the hair hanging in her eyes. It looked like the wind was getting stronger. Mephius’ flag was flapping more and more vigorously, while Garbera’s on the other hand still lay on the ground where it had been left by the knights.

For a while, everyone there simply allowed themselves to be buffeted by the wind, without saying anything, without making the slightest movement, only maintaining the silence.

In the distance, an airship came into sight, flying through the sky. Judging from its direction, it had come from the south – it was probably part of Mephius’ border patrol.

“Would that…” Vileena said to the Imperial Guards behind her.

They caught her meaning immediately and promptly started to move, as though ordered by their liege. The riders carrying the flags galloped off ahead of the route that the airship was following, and signalled for it to land by holding the flags high.

The ones who touched down a few minutes later were indeed soldiers from the border guards. According to them, they were carrying news that troops would soon be crossing the border from Garbera’s Zaim Fortress.

Zenon Owell’s irritation had finally reached a boiling point. He had previously sent a letter to the emperor, the gist of which was a request to “allow us to subjugate Salamand,” but had received no answer. Deciding that the situation was at risk of becoming unsalvageable if things remained as they were, he had apparently decided to personally take down Salamand, even if that meant that relations between the two countries might be a little strained for a while afterwards.

The soldiers on board the airship were on their way to convey the information to Solon.

Vileena’s immediate decision was that “we cannot afford to waste any time.”

The Imperial Guards had no objection either. About seventy percent of them would head towards Solon with Salamand, while the remainder would accompany Vileena south.

Alnakk and Tanis were among the soldiers chosen to travel with her.