Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume6 Chapter5 (section)

=== Part 2 ===

Blood spurted from the nape of his neck and Orba was on the verge of breaking his stance and falling backwards. The enemy continued to leap towards him..

His sword didn’t connect. It had only been a light thrust to keep it at bay but even so it should have struck the demon’s head, yet it passed right through.

“Guh!”

As he continued to retreat, Orba’s entire body went cold. When it came to battle, no matter what the situation was, his blood would be boiling, yet now it ran as cold as if it were freezing. The feel of the sword that he grasped in his hand. The weight of the steel that was transmitted to his arm. As a swordsman who had faith in his ability to tear down any kind of obstacle, it was impossible not to fall into despair when his sword utterly failed to prevail, and despair in the middle of battle led only to death.    

''Sorcery''.

It was something that should no longer exist in the human world, something that perhaps transcended the human world. Orba’s movements had unwittingly lost their vitality. He was unable to do anything but simply continue to retreat until his back hit the wall of a house.

“Don’t mess with me!”

In that instant, Orba’s instinct for survival turned his fear into an anger whose embers’ burned bright. But his blood still ran cold. It was no more than the desperate counterattack of a heavily wounded beast.

The black demon flapped its wings and dived diagonally down, barring its claws downwards. Orba stepped forward to intercept it and was about to swing his sword in a side sweep.

At almost exactly the same moment, the dragon spewed thunder again and as the colour of flames burst into sight to his right, Orba closed his eyes out of reflex. 

''Damn it!''

Let alone his blood, it felt for a second as though every one of his bodily fluids had frozen solid.

He halted his sideways swing and was going to pull the sword towards his chest for a single blow from beneath but for some reason his body wouldn’t move that way. His sword moved by an instinct that overcame reason and came into position in front of his face. And that sword parried a blow that came from directly opposite him.

“What!”

Staring wide-eyed, Orba noticed the figure of a demon swooping down from the side. But his awakened instinct told him to prepare for an attack from a different direction than the sight that was reflected in his eyes. Orba switched his body-weight to his heels, bent his knees and jumped two, three steps to the side.

''He’s…''

The real attack differed from that which was visible. Above all, the wind that now struck him from the front was one that carried a stench that Orba’s nose was familiar with – it was a wind created by a steel sword. To close his eyes for an instant and be able to grasp that correctly was thanks to his experience as a gladiator who had survived for six<ref>[sic]</ref> years. 

''In that case'' – As he faced the demon that was leaping towards him, Orba pretended to stagger and lowered the tip of his sword. If the enemy was human, then it would attack the weak point that had been exposed. If his reading was off, it meant Orba’s death.

The demon swooped down from the side – that was what was visible but an unhurried bloodlust was blowing from right in front of Orba. It was something which had also radiated from the bodies and swords of the gladiators that Orba had fought one-on-one and was a sensation particular to a sword.

Orba dropped the tip of his blade downwards and put all his energy into bending his knees and sinking towards the surface of the ground. Above his head, a raging tempest swept down. At the same time, Orba’s sword leapt like lightning from the ground and plunged into something.

The demon should have been on the verge of leaping at him from the right. But at that moment, the demon’s figure vanished from sight and in its place appeared the black shadow of a person. Clad in black from head to toe was a swordsman with human limbs. The sword that Orba had thrust out was plunged deeply into its abdomen. Orba put all his strength into pulling it out.

“Guh!”

The swordsman gasped and fell forward. He was clearly dying. A cloth hung from his helmet so that his face couldn’t be seen, but there was no doubt that viscous, clotted blood was flowing from his abdomen and from the area around his mouth.

Breathing raggedly, Orba gazed at the blade that was smeared in blood and human fat then once more examined his surroundings. Black-winged demons were chasing after the figures of the people and soldiers who were running, trying to escape. It was a strange scene. But was that entire pack of demons black-clad swordsmen like the one he had just struck down?

''Is that the real nature of sorcery?''

Did it dazzle people’s eyes or trick their minds? Either way, it seemed certain that creatures such as these demons did not really exist. It looked like the aim was to plunge the soldiers who had entered Kadyne into chaos by having these soldiers who were cloaked in illusions commit repeated slaughter.

Orba considered exposing them one-by-one thanks to the sense that he had started to develop in the fight just now, but the number of enemies was unknown. If they realised that he had noticed their true shape, they would swarm around him alone.

''That being the case'' – he couldn’t go around breezily doing the right thing by saving the people and friendly soldiers who were about to get killed. In the current situation where only Orba had seen through the enemy, Kadyne seemed headed towards annihilation.

A man entered his field of vision, screaming and helpless to do anything as a demon’s claws attacked him. At a distance he might be able to cross in time if he ran, a woman was lying in the street, shielding a child.

Orba closed his eyes.

But after that one brief instant, he resolutely opened his eyes wide and burned into his retinas the moment in which that man and that mother, whose names he didn’t even know, lost their lives. Teeth tightly clenched, Orba turned back to the building he had come out from a little earlier. He intended to get Stan and leave the place at once. He needed to check whether Shique and the others had already entered Kadyne, then, if possible, he could give them his orders and they might be able to overturn the situation.

Stan had already raised himself on the bed.

“Orba.”

He raised his eyes feebly. Orba was about to tell him not to move but, “Outside, there’s an incredible amount of ether swirling about. Even just from here, my head feels like it’s about to split.”

“Ether? You can sense it?”

“Like this, it’s the first time. This isn’t normal. ……But, Orba,” even though Stan’s eyelids were trembling, his eyes were filled with strong purpose as he stared at Orba. “No matter how huge it is, there is only one will controlling it. Take me with you. I might be able to tell where the enemy is.”

Orba’s thoughts spun quickly. He didn’t really understand half of what Stan was saying. But however much sorcery lay outside the boundaries of common sense, even though it seemed like something out of a nightmare, if it was something that was handled through human skill,

''I can stop this massacre''.

If it could lead to that simple conclusion, he would consider any number of ways to fight.

If it came to it, he was a man who made decisions quickly. By nature, Orba believed that speed was of the essence in a fight.

“Right,” Orba decided promptly. At any rate, they needed to hurry; while things stayed as they were, the damage would increase.
    
Since Stan himself had decided to go, there was no point worrying about his health. Orba led him outside but then clicked his tongue. The horses were gone. They should have been tethered to a wooden post by the gate, but they had been frightened by the explosions and, violently tearing off the rope, had bolted.

Orba and Stan resolutely decided to run through the streets. While waiting for Stan, who tended to fall behind, Orba peered around the corner of the alleyways to check that there weren’t any demons – or rather, enemy swordsmen.

Engulfed in flames, screams still swept through Kadyne. The roads were filled with corpses that could no longer speak. Soldiers, women and children. Had it have been the work of demons, one could only tremble at the sight of such a scene. But now Orba knew. This wasn’t the doing of unfathomable monsters but was the result of living humans swinging their swords.

''Hoh''.

Looking up at the sky, his eyes widened slightly. The black dragon was flying in the air. But looking at it once more after having concluded that it couldn’t exist, he guessed that it must be some kind of air carrier. No doubt something that belonged to Garda. It would have been concealed in the outskirts of the town and once the sorcery was put into effect, it carried out an aerial bombing.

To burn to the ground from the sky a territory that should be under one’s own control. It was the same thing that Orba had done in Apta.

Stan showed the way as they went. It was unclear how he was sensing ether, but as they advanced further and further, his simple and unaffected face clearly revealed the pain he was in.

“They’re being sucked up,” now and then, he would groan as though in the grip of a feverish nightmare. “The ether and the hearts of the dead are being sucked up.”

Evading the enemy’s sight, grieving bitterly as they abandoned the hunted populace, the destination they eventually arrived at was the temple of the Dragon Gods faith that was near the castle buildings. ''I see'', thought Orba as he ran. It was a fitting place for the enemy leader to be.

“Wait,” unsurprisingly, Stan’s utterly exhausted frame sank down beside the staircase leading to the temple.

Orba firmly grasped the hilt of his sword and rushed in. He expected that there might be a large number of Garda’s troops, but instead, the inside was deserted and there was no sign of life. As he went further in, the staircase sloped downwards and across from it a hall lined with columns came into view.

A single man was inside. The hooded figure wore long robes and in his hand he brandished a staff. Encrusted within it was a jewel sparkling with the seven colours of the rainbow which was emitting some kind of wave. Although it was invisible to the eye, and although he couldn’t sense it as well as Stan could, ''that'' was undoubtedly ether.

Killing his presence and stifling his breathing, Orba slowly and quietly stepped out from the shadow of the columns.
Suddenly, without warning, the man turned around. Orba was prepared for that too and ran down the hall with his sword in one hand.

“Are you Garda?”

“Am I Garda?” The man who seemed like a sorcerer laughed in a hoarse voice that sounded as though his throat had been crushed. “In a sense, you poke at the true nature of things. Masked boy. But the likes of I am merely a passageway chosen by Lord Garda.”

“A passageway,” Orba parroted his words but in any case, he had no understanding of sorcery. “At any rate, if I kill you, it looks like this senseless bloodshed will end.”

“I congratulate you for having made it here. But that is all.”

As soon as he had finished speaking, the sorcerer took a leather bag that was tied at his waist and threw it towards Orba. As soon as it hit the ground, it gave off light and exploded. Orba had been about to cut him down but stepped back and instinctively shielded his face.

Thereupon, holding out his staff as though taking a stance with a sword, the sorcerer lunged at Orba. The distance between them was considerable. It shouldn’t have been able to reach him but it extended like a whip and coiled around Orba’s right arm.

“What!”

Just as he felt its cold touch on his skin, the staff effected a horrifying transformation. Before he realised what was happening, it had turned into a snake. Twisting its body that was speckled with black spots, it tried to sink its fangs into the nape of Orba’s neck. Orba frantically tried to bend his neck backwards out of reach but even as he was doing so, the snake coiled itself round repeatedly and slithered upwards. The part that corresponded to its tail stretched out an unnatural length, its tip clasped in the sorcerer’s hand.

“Kill him,” the sorcerer ordered, his voice filled with mocking scorn.

He was not talking to the snake he was using. A soldier clad entirely in black equipment stepped out from the other side of the shadows within the temple. It seemed that a single guard had been allotted to the sorcerer.

He held an axe in one hand and approached at a leisurely pace. As Orba’s right arm was blocked by the snake, he couldn’t use his sword to fight against him.

Breathing harshly while desperately turning his face away from the snake that was even now aiming for his neck, Orba tried to step back. But the sorcerer who was clutching the snake’s tail stood firm with unexpected strength and wouldn’t allow him to retreat.

The figure of the soldier approached to within striking distance. Behind the mask, Orba’s eyes glittered with impatience.

He seemed to try once more to retreat but instead staggered forward from the recoil and ended up in a posture that was all but presenting his neck to the enemy.

The enemy raised his axe and a wind signifying death rose before Orba to envelop him.

But this time, Orba hadn’t staggered but had stepped forward of his own accord. He had moved forward so as to create a range in which he could fall back and at the same time that the axe was about to strike, he retreated half a step backwards and lifted up his right arm.

Blood did not spill.

The head of the snake was struck off by the axe and it turned into the staff, whose two pieces were sent flying. At the same time, Orba smashed the soldier’s kneecap with his sword and as he sank to his knees groaning, he lost no time in swooping in to strike twice at his head.

Jumping over the soldier who was in his death throes, Orba advanced towards the sorcerer. Under the hood, his face showed an expression of astonishment. But he didn’t give up on victory and once again made as if to grope for something at his waist.

In that instant, Orba threw his sword with all his strength.

Struck unexpectedly, the sorcerer wasn’t able to dodge and could only yield as the steel tip penetrated his chest.