Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume2 Chapter6 (section)

===Part 2===
Within the battle ring of the stadium, which held as much significance as any statue and had weathered years to decades of exposure, Pashir breathed life into his body and made a sharp step forward with his left foot. He applied a thrust that cut through the wind.

The bodies and minds of these two were taxed to their utmost; to Orba, who waited on Pashir, his sudden movement was the greatest feast to be had. Orba, eyes practically screaming with delight, matched his movements so superbly that they seemed almost premeditated.

Orba bent his legs and sprung into the air, avoiding the turning thrust sent his way, and then swung down, executing a series of superior movements. But Pashir had also anticipated this.

He displayed a thrust of full force, but had one foot stepped back, and using that as leverage, pushed away Orba’s swing. He slashed diagonally downward, the trajectory curving to take the shape of a perfect circle.

Whoosh.

The ear-splitting swing, along with the cries of the audience, indistinguishable between screams and cheers, sounded across the stadium. Orba staggered backwards, blood gushing out his chest along where his leather armour tore.

To Orba, it was the same as the enemy suddenly having disappeared right before his eyes, following up with an unseen slash sent his way; the way Orba had always done it to others. Attacking with the ferocity of an animal, Pashir gave him no quarter. Two, three strikes. He was barely able to follow the attacks with his eyes and was forced to rely on his body’s ingrained reactions. Half his consciousness had been blown away.

''The brand is....''

Orba was forced further into retreat.

''The brand is burning up...''

When he circled around Pashir, Orba saw a faint glimmer on his back. Orba saw the brand of a slave seared onto his back burning with flames.

The dying wishes, hearts, and souls of each person Pashir was said to have killed; now, they manifested themselves as flames ready to incinerate Orba to ashes. Or perhaps, the malice wanted Orba’s soul to join theirs.

''Join us, join us, join us.''

Faces appeared on the floating wisps and whispered to him.

''You also hate Mephius; you also hate Mephius... ''

''And yet...''

''And yet, you hold ‘doubts’. You ‘hesitate’.''

Pashir delivered an attack at lightning speed. The strike was too much to take and Orba stumbled backwards.

''That’s why it’s impossible for you. You can’t do it. We can’t entrust them to you.''

''So join us inside Pashir.''

''Pashir can do it; Pashir can accomplish what we want and burn Mephius in a sea of flames.''

“Stop.”

Orba voiced hoarsely. His body would not listen to him. It wasn’t only because of the damage he had incurred. Even now, the grudges of their souls gushed forth not only from Pashir’s back, but also from Orba’s. They spread and oozed over him, entrenching him. As it were, the hundreds of souls of gladiators Orba had killed were abandoning their host all to become one with the ominous flame lit on Pashir’s back.

''If you won’t do it...''

''We’ll have Pashir do it for us. We’ll have Pashir burn Mephius down.''

''You die as well. Die and join us and become a spark of the flame burning in Pashir’s brand. Burn alongside Mephius, Orba.''

''O-r-b-a.''

Having turned the tables, Pashir plunged his sword down without a second’s hesitation.

Orba looked up in a haze at the sword about to plunge down him.

''Doubts——Hesitation——''

Orba had no power in him to resist them. If there had to be a reason, it was because these questions and enticing suggestions all sprouted from within him. Through the tip of Pashir’s sword, the thousands of faces belonging to the flame engulfed Orba whole. He felt an unbearable pain, as if his heart was being burned to a crisp.

And,

Just before they could burn him completely and before the sword pierced his chest—

A golden ''object'' fluttered in front of the two. It was the medal attached to the chain Orba wore over his neck. Freed from the tear in Orba’s leather armour and Orba’s stumble, it danced in the air.

''It'' burned with a brilliant flame.

''It'' shone vividly, almost as if it were amassing the flames from the bonfires in the evening night.

“Ugh.”

Pashir averted his eyes.

And at the same time, the inexplicable restraints that held him disappeared. Orba desperately rolled to the side and evaded the sword plunging down on him.

''Vileena!''

Reciting that name within himself, he swept Pashir’s leg. Pashir fell forward, but immediately regained his footing in the time Orba took to stand up. Their swords collided at a distance both equally away from their faces.

The malice was gone. They should never have been there from the start. If they ''had'' existed, then they would have originated from Orba’s back and not Pashir’s.

''I won’t shoulder them.''

Supposing whose life it was, supposing whose soul it was,

''Even if the amassed mountains of corpses curse me all night; even if your grudges goad me countlessly, I won’t let them influence me, no matter who, what, how...''

Sword clashed with sword. Even that single strike proved too much for the wounded Orba to endure. He doubled over.

“Oof.”

Orba’s iron mask struck Pashir’s nose.

The swordsman whose mask was dyed red and Pashir, who likewise had blood dripping down his face, both staggered backwards, and yet also tightened their grip on their swords at the same time.

They approached another to the distance of a blade, and near simultaneously let loose a single swing. Theresia instinctively turned away, and beside her, Vileena dug her nails into her clenched fists, burning this instant into her eyes.



The broken half of a sword was sent spiralling into the air before it pierced into the ground.

There was no sword in Orba’s hand. The tip of Pashir’s sword shone dully against his neck. He had already used up all his strength, and there was no reason to match Pashir in a confrontation.

That was something Orba was more aware of than anyone. He swung on his right with all his strength and snapped his sword, or may have even deliberately allowed his sword to be broken, and, taking a step to the left, dodged the incoming attack while delivering a right punch to Pashir’s jaw. It happened in an instant. After that, Pashir fell on his back, collapsing face up.

Pashir was knocked unconscious and laid still, and Orba’s body heaved heavily with laboured breathing.

The victor was illuminated a bright red by the bonfires.

Solon’s grand stadium shook.

The surroundings suddenly became dark. Orba was overwhelmed by the terrifying moans sent from the skies by the numerous souls freed from his brand.

“Spare him!”

“Kill him!”

The noise made from these two chants were nearly the same. As if paralyzed with hesitation, Orba did not move.

Then, the arena shook, in a different manner of speaking. The one who stood up and was pointing down her thumbs was the empress, Melissa.

Naturally, that was the signal to ‘kill’.

Orba limped towards Pashir, and wresting away the sword in his hands, extended his arm. However, in that instant his body stooped down, and he too fell down and collapsed. Neither winner nor loser existed between these two who lay collapsed on top one another. That, above all else, gave testimony to the breath-taking fight that had unfolded.

“Like this, it seems there is little choice but to wait and see who wakes up first to deliver the final blow,” the emperor said. “However, that would leave a poor aftertaste. It is an unfitting end for such splendid battle. The victor is Orba. That will do.”

“Princess——Princess.”

Theresia shook both of Vileena’s shoulders in a huff.

“He won. Orba-sama won.”

“Yes...he did...”

Vileena lowered her head, eyes wide open. Her once paled face returned in colour and her neck was drenched with sweat. The spectacle wasn’t as horrendous as the young girl thought. It was the depiction of an atrocious and wretched battle, but she had also felt something take hold deep within her and shake her very being.

“That is the medal the princess sent to Orba-sama, is it not? Orba-sama has done the favour of wearing it, and I’m sure that the princess’ friendship has bestowed him with victory.”

“Uh huh—”

Clasping onto Theresia’s hand, Vileena nodded innocently like a little girl. Her racing heart had yet to calm, the gladiator games had seriously done her body more harm than good.

The large crowds of gathered people from within Solon—or rather, within Mephius, chanted the victor’s name. As if completely forgetting the long standstill and their outburst of boos, they repeatedly cried out ‘Orba’ as loud as they could, never tiring of the name.

<!--And,
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“A praiseworthy match!”

The emperor stood up and announced. Everyone directed their fervour towards emperor Guhl Mephius in agreement. He raised his hand and waited for the applause to subside.

“It was a splendid battle, one that did not bring shame to the battles of old. The victor who has earned the golden crown, and of course, those who were defeated in these battles as well, serve as the cornerstone of Mephius and will never be forgotten. As we welcome the hundreds of people each year, we mustn’t forget the blood of the thousands who died. In place of the mournful dead, they shall be the living proof of our pride—by the name of the Dragon God, they shall bring glory to our country.”

“Glory...”

“Glory to Mephius!”

The people cheered in chorus.

As he lay collapsed, Orba heard the emperor’s voice as it resound through his back.

“Going through all that trouble...” Pashir groaned lying face down. “It would’ve been fine if you dealt the final blow. You’re too naïve if you think I’ll join the army.”

“What do you mean?”

Orba spoke as if he had just woken, and slowly got up.

“Walking’s the best I can manage. You lay there and sleep for now. It’d be pathetic if the winner was more wounded than the loser.”

“Hmph,” Pashir let out a snort.

Afterwards, the leader of the Gladiator’s Guild and acting representative of the nobles, Fedom, called out.

“Victor Orba, this way please.”

The gates below the grandstands opened, and Orba was brought to the staircase. Fedom beamed with pride. After handing his sword to the Imperial Guards, Orba set foot onto the staircase. He would soon reach the emperor, kneel down, and receive the crown on his head. Gradually, the crowd’s cheers of Orba’s name grew heated. However,

“Stop.”

Guhl Mephius suddenly stopped Orba with his hand. Next to Fedom who displayed a questioning face, he gave a command.

“That mask is an obstacle in the crowning of Clovis’ helmet. Take it off.”

Orba’s instantly stopped moving. Vileena, Ineli, and a considerable number of those seated in the grandstands who knew the masked warrior, Orba, made shocked faces.

“Well?” The emperor said gently. “This is presumptuous. None have hidden their face as Clovis. Take off the mask.”

“P-Please wait, your majesty.”

“What is it, Fedom?”

“T-That is, the mask he wears is not one made to capture the attention of the masses and adorn his appearance. It has received the curse of a magician to never come off. I-I also did not believe it at first but Orba has never actually been without his mask even under normal circumstances.”

“Oh?” The emperor stroked his beard in interest.

Everyone was quiet at the moment. Overhearing the situation, the spectators watched on in awe filled silence.

“We won’t know unless we try. You two.”

He snapped his fingers, and directed the two imperial guards towards Orba. He was going to pull it off through brute force.

“P-P-Please wait, your majesty.”

“What is it? You’re being unsightly, Fedom.”

Fedom’s face paled and he frothed in an utter mess.

“I-It’s dangerous. The curse on that mask is likely terrifying. Those who try to take it off or break it regardless of Orba’s will die by his hands.”

“It will be fine if we hold him down. Or do you mean to say that the curse will, by some invisible hand, reach out and kill me, the emperor?”

“O, o, o—”

‘Or possibly’ Fedom had started to say, but he found himself unable to speak as he realized he was crossing a dangerous line. The emperor was the descendant of the founding emperor born of man and Dragon God. To even try to say that he would be killed by the likes of a curse would earn him the death penalty from Guhl Mephius.

Vileena Owell had instinctively began to get up from her seat but was forcefully pushed by down by Theresia’s hand. Even if she did not know his reasons for doing so, she did understand from seeing Orba’s behaviour that he did not want his face exposed bare here. So she was going to lend him a helping hand; however, she had no chance in succeeding. Orba stood frozen, aware of the cold sweat breaking out under his mask and down his back. He shuddered to think of how he would face Pashir afterwards. Naturally, the mask currently held no cursed power. If someone pulled it with all their strength, it would easily come right off.

''So they’re going with it, huh.''

He thought for a quick moment, as he looked at the two imperial guards meekly approaching him. He would knock or kick them down, and then make a run for it. The plan wasn’t exactly well thought out, and with his current condition, the chance of succeeding was slim. However, to have his face exposed here would end with his death regardless.

Vileena shoved aside Theresia’s hand and began to stand up. She planned on resorting to the ‘wager’ she had made with emperor the previous day. Orba slightly arched his back, as if he were an animal ready to bite the windpipes off the approaching guards, when,

“Please wait, your majesty.”

The figure of a person stood straight up.

Orba looked up to see the person’s face, and made a surprised face beneath his mask. The one smiling and bowing towards the emperor was Ineli Mephius.

“Is it not all right that he refuses to take off his mask? He’s finally established himself as the masked hero, Orba. The allure of an enigma lies in its carefully concealed mysteries. I dare say nothing will come of it were you to expose him. And it is in good likelihood he may never go masked again.”

Ineli’s thoughts were welcomed by the nobles with smiles.

“What think you, father?”

“I suppose that also sits well.” Guhl narrowed his eyes at his daughter-in-law’s plea. “Orba the gladiator, you should feel honoured to receive the affection of my daughter. Oh, but bear in mind, I will tolerate no such forthcomings between you two before my presence in the future.”

“Oh father, what are you saying?”

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v02 263.jpg|thumb]]
Ineli’s face reddened and she looked the other way; the surrounding people laughed once more. Like this, the bashful Ineli triumphed. She was aware Vileena likewise did not want Orba’s mask to be taken off. Thus, she was able to revel in a rush of excitement; one very similar to what she might experience were a young girl to be stripped naked in front of her.

Most importantly, the one she dealt with was Orba; the one who failed to take notice of her, and had of all things, danced with Vileena and ruined her plans. She took pleasure in seeing him stand in the face of danger, and was drunk off her perverted satisfaction in having saved this man.

At any rate, Orba kneeled before the emperor as originally set out, and received the crown on his head. The ears of the tiger <!--Refers to the mask here--> were somewhat in the way, and the crown sat askew atop his head, but the spectators cheered his name again and clapped their hands.

Vileena breathed a sigh of relief. Then, she felt someone looking at her; surrounded by faces in front of her was Ineli. Her elated smile did a complete turnaround. Vileena was instantly perplexed by the emotion she beheld in that gaze.

Hatred.

A sentiment never before directed towards her. Yes, her father and Theresia had scolded her before; other players had shown her hostility at the airship race; Ryucown had pointed his sword at her at Zaim Fortress and even threatened to kill her.

However, they could not be described as hatred. She felt a chilling sensation together with what felt like a small fire within her chest assaulting her.

Above the gladiator Orba who underwent the coronation, the gazes of these two girls, as if connected by a piece of thread, never parted.