Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume6 Chapter4 (section)

=== Part 2 ===

Just as his name of Kadyne’s Blue Dragon indicated, Nilgif wore a helmet shaped like a dragon and donned blue armour. The difference with his brother wasn’t only the colour of his armour but also the fact that the top of his helmet only had a single horn.

He rode his horse at the head of the five hundred soldiers.

Up until then, he had given his companions the order to deliberately scatter during skirmishes. The plan was for them to seem thoroughly routed. They had even made sure to deliberately abandon valuable weapons like guns and cannons so that the enemy would not be able to see through their intentions. There were of course those who were killed in this warfare based on withdrawal. It was an honour for warriors to die in battles in which they had fought to the last, but in these battles they had known from the start that they would be running away.

''But even so, they obeyed my orders''. 

Nilgif was by nature easily moved to tears. Even in the middle of an assault, he was prone to being unable to hold back the emotions that welled up within him.

''You won’t have died in vain. Here and now, we will deal a crushing blow to these one thousand soldiers''.

Nilgif had two mortars be transported beforehand to the southern hills. Since as expected, the enemy had completely disregarded caution to the south, the first shot was fired as the signal for the assault.

“Riiight. Let’s go!”

Once the soldiers standing guard at the west of the town came into sight, Nilgif raised his rough voice.
 
Abandoning the lit fires, they were about to swing their long spears from horseback or fix them under their arms.

Just then, the fourth cannon shot rang out.

“Urgh!”

Gravel flew up and hit Nilgif in the face. No, it wasn’t only gravel that flew. With it was the flesh and blood of his companions. As Nilgif halted before it, his now bloodshot eyes stared at the impact point from which white smoke was rising up and where his companions and their horses lay prone. He knew that the bombardment must have come from the rocky hills. He knew it, but – 

“Impossible!”

At the same time,

“Right. Let’s go.” 

Someone gave the same order as Nilgif had.

It was Orba, who at some point had arrived to defend the west side. Raising his spear high, he took the lead, galloping in the van. Following behind him were the fifty-three from his unit, the hundred and fifty pikemen that Bisham had loaned him and the hundred infantrymen who were originally on sentry duty. 

“That bastard saw right through them, huh,” his battle-axe heaved over his shoulder, Gilliam gave a broad grin.

The Zerdians were completely unable to hide their surprise but with the enemy approaching before them, the fact that the commander was a foreigner was no longer important. Spears in hand, they drew up to the mounted enemy unit.

Gunshots sounded once again. The fight had become a mêlée but those who had brought the guns to the hills and those who had been targeted had had their allies and enemies completely switched around.

''If I were the enemy, I would definitely attack from the south''. It was because he thought so that Orba went to reconnoitre the hills. And there, as expected, he found a suitable ledge. 

''Here?'' Orba found traces of several humans having been there recently. There was no mistaking that the soldiers of Kadyne had checked the place out before leaving the relay-station town. Realising that they intended to bring out mortars, Orba had left a few men there. All of them were outstanding swordsmen. Shique was among them. And naturally, he also left soldiers who were experienced at bombardment.

Orba’s plan proved to be right on the mark. In the dead of night, several dozen soldiers brought dismantled mortars. After waiting for them to assemble them, Shique and the other swordsmen leapt out. The enemy didn’t even have time to brace themselves against the swords before being cut down in one fell swoop.

“First fire at the outskirts of the town,” Orba had ordered them in advance. One reason was as a signal to lure the enemy troops, the other reason was to wake up their allies who were indulging in indolence. “If the enemy charges, fire another shot there. The rest is our job.”

From atop his horse, Orba crossed spears with the mounted warrior who was at the head of the enemy troops. Sparks flew from the tips and the two horses had passed by each other before they had finished fading.

A feeling of heaviness remained in Orba’s arm. His opponent was a master at the spear. And going by the shape and colour of his helmet and armour…

“Nilgif.”

He turned his horse back as he shouted. For his part, Nilgif was also surprised to recognise his adversary.

“A masked swordsman. It’s you!”

It was without a doubt the opponent his brother Moldorf had told him about. Every time the masked swordsman appeared, he had gotten in his brother’s way.

''So he’s the one who saw through my plan?''

Feeling as though his head would explode at any moment from his seething enthusiasm, Nilgif gave his horse’s flank a sharp kick.

Orba and Nilgif passed each other again. With an unpleasant sound, the spear in Orba’s hand broke. Taking heart, Nilgif turned back once more. Orba however was already galloping away without turning back.

“Are you running away, you bastard!”

Nilgif was about to spur his horse forward but on either side of him, the spears of the enemy pikemen were already driving him hard. Kadyne’s cavalry formation had been thrown out of order by that cannon shot. They were being polished off one-by-one.

“Ah, wait!” Nilgif unintentionally raised his voice in a childish cry. He realised now that the masked swordsman had deliberately lured him in.

“Ngh!” As Nilgif suddenly leaned his head to the side, a broken spear whirled past. 

Orba, the one who had thrown it, was flanked on either side by spear-wielding foot soldiers and pulled out his sword while still on horseback.

“Aim for that one rider,” Nilgif shouted but,

“Nilgif, what’s the matter? Your older brother magnificently knew when to quit.”

“W-What!”

A pikeman brandished his spear. Nilgif jabbed left and right with his spear and was about to break free but Orba raced to follow after him. He barely managed to stop a blow from the longsword with the top of his shoulder.

Nilgif ground his teeth. He knew that the enemy already held the momentum. Since their mortars had been snatched from them, if they needlessly prolonged things the enemy would swarm at them from the gates.

''If you have to retreat, retreat. As long as you live, a day will surely come when you can wash away your disgrace''.

Those weren’t the words of the masked swordsman but the teachings he had received from his brother Moldorf and which had been thoroughly hammered into him. Nilgif was quick to work himself into a frenzy but he had made preparations for this night raid while fully aware of the risk for his allies. He couldn’t allow anymore of his men to lose their lives.

“Eei, retreat. Retreat,” Nilgif said in a gruff voice that was much like his brother’s then, brandishing his spear, he sent flying in one go the mass of spearheads rushing towards him. For a moment, Orba also chased after him but, just like his brother, Nilgif did not allow him to draw up to him from behind.

A pursuit battle in the dead of night was dangerous anyway. What lay ahead from the relay-station town was still in Kadyne’s sphere of influence. Orba reared his horse bolt upright and raised his sword to halt his allies’ steps.  

The fifty-three from Orba’s unit lifted their swords and spears high to starry sky and gave a shout of victory.

Among them, Orba returned the sword to his waist and stared intently at his right hand which was clasping the hilt. It was still numb and his grip strength hadn’t returned at all.

''No doubt about it, his spear is as overwhelming as his brother’s''.

Their names were famed in the worn-torn west. Moldorf and Nilgif; it was fine as long as it was one or the other, but if from here on the twin Red and Blue Dragons appeared together on the battlefield, things would certainly become very difficult. 

When they returned to the town, Surūr Wyerim was waiting at the gates. His armour seemed to have been hastily thrown on, the cords to attach it were undone and he was missing a shoulder pad. The soldiers lined up behind him were in a similar state.

“Will there be even a single word of praise?” 

When Gilliam said that, Talcott, who was riding beside him, laughed quietly.

“Who knows. But looking at that face he’s pulling, don’t get your hopes up.”

And in truth, between the lit torches held by soldiers on either side of him, Surūr’s face was trembling with rage. At the same time, Shique’s party who had gained control of the hills also made it down. After giving them some words of appreciation, Orba nimbly jumped from his horse.

“Why,” Surūr spoke. Even the moustache of which he was so proud was swaying and trembling. “Why did you stay silent when you knew the enemy was coming?”

''Not upfront'', Orba thought for a second. Those were not words that should be spoken in front of the soldiers. At least in public, he should have praised him, saying “good work” or something. ''Then I could have answered that “I was just doing what you told me to, commander” and the merit would have become partly yours''.  

In the same way as with Lasvius, when Orba couldn’t stand someone, there was a good chance that they hated him too. Surūr must also be capable, otherwise he wouldn’t have been entrusted with the command of the detached force. In this case, they probably just had poor affinity. When it came to Lasvius, he couldn’t tolerate Orba’s provocative way of doing things.

“I didn’t know it. I just had a hunch that they would come.”

He had had that hunch since that time when Surūr had ordered him to find where they would set an ambush. It was the perfect place to stage an attack, yet the enemy hadn’t despatched a single soldier there. Moreover, having taken part in the fights in various locations, Orba had thought it suspicious that the enemy was withdrawing so quickly. After carrying out thorough reconnaissance of the area, he had confirmed that the enemy had secured a path of retreat beforehand.

It looked like the enemy was deliberately using small numbers to entice them. 

But Surūr didn’t want to listen.

“Were you in that much of a hurry to earn some merit? I have a thousand men to look out for. Did you not think that your selfish actions would endanger your comrades?”

“What!”

The previously calm and composed Talcott’s expression had changed. He started speaking faster than Shique could hold him back. “Is there anyone who can know for certain when the enemy will appear? When our captain was the only one to warn that they would probably come, didn’t you say you were handing over the soldiers to him? Except most of those bastards vanished without permission. In a hurry to earn some merit? You should try saying that when looking in a mirror.”

Talcott wasn’t the kind to bottle up what he wanted to say. He took this opportunity to let it all out. Attacked where it hurt, Surūr kept silent.

''This is an ugly atmosphere right after a victory'', Shique bit his lip while watching the nearby scene.

The difference in nationalities also looked likely to be a problem. The actions that Orba had taken had undoubtedly saved his allies from being routed and what Talcott had said was also entirely true, but – starting with Surūr – what was reflected in the eyes of the Zerdians who hadn’t had the chance to fight wasn’t so much admiration as anger. Talcott was from the coastal countries but to the Zerdians it would probably be the taken as “Those despicable Mephians defying the Battalion Commander.”

Both sides glared at each other for a moment, their eyes gleaming red in the torchlight. Then,

“Is there any liquor left?”

Orba spoke from behind his mask. Surūr’s eyebrows twitched.

“What? Liquor?”

“For the soldiers who were standing guard. Otherwise it’s unfair, since unlike you fuckers, they weren’t getting wasted.”

''Orba!''

To Shique’s horror, when Orba blithely threw oil on the fire, Surūr seemed for a moment to tilt towards the right then his fist sank into Orba’s jaw. Standing behind him, Stan hurriedly caught him as he seemed to fall over backwards.

A stir ran through the soldiers.

“Don’t get full of yourself, boy,” Surūr’s narrow eyes flared open. “Don’t think that Mephians can do whatever they like in Tauran. You’ll wield your sword the way I tell you to. Understand!?” 

Surūr should probably have thought about the fact that at that instant, the commotion among the soldiers did not take the form of a shout of approval. About three hundred Zerdians had stood sentry with Orba and the others and had cooperated with them in the fight. Surūr’s fist had pulverised their joy over their victory and their pride in having accomplished such a feat.

“B-Bastard!”

“Stop. Stop it!”

Gilliam, Talcott and the short-tempered mercenaries started to step forward while Shique and the Zerdians they had fought alongside got between them to prevent it.

The night air mixed with the smell of the burning trees that had been hit by the cannonballs.


The next day, after Surūr had finished reorganising the troops, they finally set out on their march proper on Kadyne. Orba’s unit was of course removed from under Surūr’s direct command and was attached to Bisham’s company. 

“That wasn’t like you.”

During the journey, Shique called out to Orba who was in front of him.  Because their horses had been confiscated, all members of the unit were on foot. As Orba remained silent, he continued, 

“This being you, I’d have thought you would handle it better. That said, it’s different if you’re intending to wrest the entire battalion away from Surūr.”

“A pain.”

“Me? Or you?”

“An incompetent commander is a worse pain than the enemy.”

Shique had to stop himself from bursting into laughter. It was rare for Orba to justify his own quick temper, be it by referencing second-hand knowledge gleaned from a book or by referring to something he had actually experienced. 

“You’re riled up, huh. At any rate, both when you were a gladiator and when you were a prince, you were a genius at riling up your opponents.”

“Shut up.”

The boy’s real face showed through the mask.

That evening, one of the scouts came rushing up on horseback. 

“Ho,” Surūr gave a slight smile upon receiving the news. The report stated that the border fortress was completely empty. Since Nilgif’s night raid had failed, he had pulled back the soldiers and they were probably planning on waiting in Kadyne itself.

However, the news that the scouts brought the next day left not only Surūr but all the soldiers completely baffled. 
The soldiers had all vacated Kadyne, their own country.