Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume7 Chapter3 (section)

=== Part 2 ===

When he received the report, Ax’s first thought was – ''is he trying to run away?''

It concerned Orba, the hero who had slayed Garda, and Ax did not know what to make of the timing. He had spent entire days and nights in meetings. He had been so busy, it made his eyes spin, but, just when he had finally reached a point where he could take a break and had been thinking of sending for the hero so they could have a drink together –

“A messenger came from Sir Orba saying that he would like to return to Taúlia. However, since you were so busy, Lord Ax, he said to let you know once things had calmed down. He probably left Eimen yesterday.”

“Why Taúlia?”

“He said that since he stood out too much here, he could not do anything. The west is still in turmoil, and there is no knowing who might aim for it, thus he wished to immediately go and take part in defending Taúlia.”

''Humph'' – snorted the lord of Taúlia with a noncommittal expression.

Ax had naturally received news of the attempted uprising in Taúlia. During the time when he had been approaching Eimen with the allied western forces that he had gathered together, Ax’s nephew, Raswan Bazgan, had seized control of Taúlia Castle through armed force. Apparently, many of the soldiers employed by Ax’s younger brother, Toún, had joined Raswan’s side. During the crisis, Archduke Hirgo Tedos, who had counselled the Bazgan House since the time of Ax’s father, had been put to the sword.

Ax had heard that the ones who had put down the rebellion were, firstly, Hirgo’s adopted son, Bouwen Tedos, the only man currently in Taúlia other than Toún who carried the title of “general”, and secondly, none other than Ax’s own daughter, Esmena Bazgan.

''What’s with this unbelievable story all of a sudden…''

It was exactly like something out of an old tale, and Ax still couldn’t quite feel that it was real.

Raswan had based the justice of his rebellion on the claim that Ax had lost the sovereign’s seal of the Ancient Dynasty to Mephius. Which was a perfectly true, so for Ax, the fact that Esmena herself had brandished the sovereign’s seal and rallied the troops’ morale was possibly even more of a bolt out of the blue than it had been for his nephew. 

Esmena had then been carried away, undercover of the mayhem from the rebellion, by one of Garda’s subordinates, and had been brought here, to Eimen. Thus, the father and daughter had been reunited immediately after Garda had been subjugated. However, as she had still been under the influence of sorcery, her body and mind had both been utterly exhausted.

At one point, Ax had visited the pavilion in which she had been settled to rest.

“Father… this… The proof of friendship between Crown Prince Gil of Mephius and you, Father.”

He had received the war fan from his daughter’s hands, with the sovereign’s seal of the Ancient Dynasty definitely stored inside it. It had, for a while, been taken by Mephius.

The father, worried about his daughter’s health, had made use of an air carrier to send her back to Taúlia before him, and before getting the full details of the situation. The commander of the Third Army Corps, Nidhal, in whom he placed full confidence, had travelled with her, and had been given orders concerning getting Taúlia back on its feet after the rebellion.

“Have a two-day celebration in honour of our having subjugated Garda. It’s fine if you hand out the wine and provisions at the castle. But that’s it. Afterwards, the populace’s rationing has to be the same as during wartime. After all, Taúlia’s the land where trade with the north will be the slowest to get back on track.”

Judging by the information, Orba’s intention of returning to Taúlia to take up duty in its defence seemed absolutely admirable. The way Ax saw it, however, was that ''he’s avoiding me questioning him''.

As long as he was just one mercenary, it didn’t matter if he wore a mask or even if he had two faces, but of course, now that he was the hero with the greatest achievements, Ax’s retainers – or rather, the entire west – had their eyes inquisitively fixed on what on earth might be under the mask, and speculation about his origins was rife.

Even for Ax, there were a lot of points worth thinking about.

''I don’t believe he’s a mere gladiator. He seems to be used to ordering soldiers''.

But for having met him in person, it was clear that he was very young. There were naturally not many social positions in which youths gave orders to soldiers.

''Royalty or nobility''.

Ax had been allocated a spacious room within Eimen’s royal palace. There, he spent day after day in discussion with the kings and nobles of the surrounding countries. The flags of almost all of the city-states of Tauran were currently fluttering in the wind above the gates of Eimen. They had come to conclude a treaty of non-aggression, and also, for when trade resumed with the north, to explore a more efficient way of doing things, rather than everyone doing whatever they pleased as had been the case up until then. In its current state, if Tauran did not hurry to revive its economy and rebuild itself, it ran the risk of becoming bait for wolves hungering for blood.

''If he were Zerdian, I could believe that he was a young prince or noble who had lost his country and who was hiding his status by working as a mercenary on foreign soil, but that guy says himself that he’s Mephian, and even if that isn’t true, at the very least, he isn’t Zerdian''.

“Huum.”

Ax had an attendant help him change his clothes, then sat down with a thump onto a couch by the window.

''Whatever the case, leaving him to his own devices is dangerous''.

For a while, he was absorbed in thought, but, by nature, he was not one to ponder too deeply over things by himself. Speed of action was Ax’s strong point, and he promptly summoned Natokk, the commander of the Sixth Army Corps, to his room.

He ordered Natokk to take fifty soldiers and return to Taúlia. The reason was not only for the defence of their home country, as he gave him one other order:

“Have your men keep watch on Orba. If it looks as though Master Ravan has recovered, consult with him. In other words, do not reveal this order except to the old master and to your most trusted subordinates.”

“Aye,” Natokk did not have a moment’s hesitation, and nodded at once.

Ax had chosen Natokk because of his steady personality, with no other intention in mind. At the time, he did not know about the rumours whispered among some of the soldiers concerning Orba’s real identity. Such detailed information-gathering was the strategist Ravan Dol’s job, but even if Ravan himself had been there, and even if he had that information at hand, he too would probably still have given the same order to the same person.

In other words, although it was purely coincidental, Ax’s decision in choosing Natokk was the correct one. But it would need quite some more time before anyone could tell whether that decision was lucky or unlucky for Tauran’s future.
 


A column of horses was advancing along the highways which had been maintained since the era of Zer Tauran.

Although many things were now different from before, as long as they stuck to it, the mercenaries did not need to worry about attacks from bandits taking advantage of the chaos. After going south from Eimen for a few days, they arrived in sight of Lake Soma and also spotted soldiers from Helio and Cherik who were guarding the highway.

Throughout the journey, Gilliam had constantly felt eyes drilling into his back.

In a sense, Shique’s insistent gaze was far more terrifying than any bandit. The rumour that Orba was crazy for a dancing girl called Yāni had, of course, reached Shique’s ears. And he had immediately guessed that Gilliam and Talcott were behind it.

Naturally, Gilliam had desperately explained the reasoning that he had given to Orba himself. Shique had not given any indication that he agreed with it, and, since then, he had barely said a word.

''He might just really be aiming for my back''.

Even Gilliam, a long-serving gladiator, could not help breaking out into a cold sweat. However –

“It looks like you also understand pretty well.”

Shique spoke to him at a rest area for travellers on the shore of Lake Soma.

“W-What do I understand?”

“How to handle that kid.” Sending a sidelong glance towards the timid-acting Gilliam, Shique gazed disinterestedly at the horses that were gobbling down their fodder. “He gets belligerent if you try to appeal to his emotions. But if you reason with him with logic, he’ll listen surprisingly well. It’s probably because he’s aware of his own lack of experience.”

“Isn’t it a bit much, though? Needing reasons laid out one-by-one just to sleep with a woman… you know?”

Gilliam turned away under Shique’s fixed stare.

“Well, leave it. In this case, it’s definitely helped the Zerdians sort out some of the complicated feelings they have towards Orba. Still, when it comes to that kid, don’t go doing things behind my back.”

''This guy really is like a nanny''.

Reading the expression on his long-time acquaintance’s face, Shique gave a small laugh.

“You know, I’m not going to get angry at Orba having slept with a woman. Well, maybe a little bit, but compared to how angry I am at you acting in secret like that, it’s nothing.”

“O-Oh…”

“Hmm, how can I put this? I’m actually rather glad.”

“Glad?”

“That kid is finally releasing himself from the shackles of revenge. It feels like, little by little, we’ll be seeing Orba’s real face. That’ll be a rare pleasure indeed.”

Gilliam didn’t understand where the pleasure in that was at all, but he was not foolish enough to contradict him.
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v07 111.jpg|thumb]]

Incidentally, Orba, who was leading the fifty-odd mercenaries, had removed his mask in favour of bandages wrapped around his face, just as when he had first arrived in Tauran. Everyone throughout the west now knew of the masked swordsman Orba, and his group received a warm welcome wherever they went. Since his men enjoyed it, Orba had, at first, reluctantly borne with it but, in the end, he had not been able to put up with it and had decided to go back to bandages.

“We’ll be leaving soon,” Orba announced to the soldiers, Gilliam and Shique among them.

“What, again?” Talcott, who had been chatting with a young woman who worked at the rest area, dragged himself to his feet, looking thoroughly fed up. “What’s with the lightning trip? Can’t we just take it a bit easier?”

“There’s no reason not to hurry. Come on, on your horses,” Orba said curtly. It was only after saying so though that he noticed something.

''Hurry? … Right, I’m in a hurry''.

He had to admit that his mind was filled with something like impatience. There was no concrete or imminent threat, but he had the feeling that ever since he had defeated Garda, he had been thinking that – ''I need to get moving soon''.

Orba had achieved success and gained fame. He had even reached the position of “hero” that he had yearned for since childhood. And yet, his mood was no brighter. There were plenty of reasons for that: he could no longer triumphantly return to his home village, he could not escape the hassle of having to hide his face, and he had the feeling that he was always running away from something.

''Is he trying to run away?'' – Ax’s intuition was not entirely wrong. Orba had been afraid that he might press him to reveal his face.

''And, what part of that is being a hero?''

The guards on either side of the highway waved at them, while Talcott and Shique waved back. Even though they didn’t recognise him as the masked hero, Orba was wearing Taúlian armour, so they probably viewed the riders as comrades.

''So, what will I do next?''

Orba had questioned himself thus just before leaving Eimen. Should he nonchalantly return to Taúlia, or visit the northern coastal countries, or go further west and cross the desert? The possibilities were endless.

''No…''

Every time he thought about such things, however, something seemed to press heavily against his chest. Those obstructive, unnameable feelings spread to his heart and blocked those future possibilities. Thoughts of his fights in the west flitted through his mind. The moment when he confronted Garda in the temple at Eimen. And also –

''Are you running away?''

''Are you leaving us behind?''

''Are you planning on abandoning us and running away?''

– All the screams of the dead within the overflowing darkness created by Garda’s sorcery. At one point, it had almost brought him to his knees. Surrounded – or perhaps captured – by faces from the past, he had almost abandoned himself to them, even as his mind and body dissolved.

When he shook ''that'' off, Orba had personally removed his mask. Only in that one moment had he felt that he could see a bright path to the future. Not the future that Tauran could hope for once Garda was destroyed, but a future for himself, and for Mephius, where he had once overcome so many bitter hardships as the crown prince.

But the reality was that his face was still hidden, and that he was spurring his horse further and further along the highway, where the wind-tossed sand whirled and where what lay ahead could not be seen. It was simply that he also had the idea that, ''if I return to Taúlia'', he might hear about how things were in Mephius.

In Mephius, revenge had been everything to Orba. He had lived only for revenge and revenge had kept him alive, revenge had shaped his personality, and revenge had guided him. There could be no fond memories for him to want to look back on. Nevertheless, now that he was freed from the shackles of revenge, it was true that he felt like he was looking at Mephius differently from how he had until then.

Naturally, for Orba, the word “Mephius” did not exist all by itself: any number of names and faces were attached to it. There was Guhl, its policymaker, and men of influence such as Simon or Rogue. There were also his one-time companions, such as Gowen, Hou Ran, or Pashir.

And also, among the many faces that went with “Mephius” was that of Vileena Owell. The girl who was not of “Mephius”, but who had tried so hard to become a part of it.
As her smile floated into his mind, a dull pain ran through Orba’s chest.

When he had left Mephius, Orba had had no choice but to fake Prince Gil’s death. The price to pay had been a great many separations. In that situation, he had been able to neither explain the circumstances to Vileena, nor, of course, to make his farewells to her.

After coming to the western lands, he had unexpectedly met again with a different princess. Esmena Bazgan of Taúlia. A girl that he had only met twice as Gil Mephius. Esmena’s haggard face was still seared into Orba’s mind.

''Vileena Owell…''

Even if he tried not to think about it, her name resurfaced. Now that her fiancé was dead, what kind of life was she living in Mephius? The question filled his mind. More than that, what expression was she making, what tone of voice was she speaking in, what where her steps when she walked?

''Stupid. Gil’s dead, so she has no more reason to stay in Mephius. She must have gone back to Garbera''.

As though ashamed of them, Orba had repeatedly reconsidered his plans, but, as Talcott had pointed out, he had to recognise that he was feeling a certain impatience.

The skies were clear.

Over the reddish-brown earth was superimposed the landscape of another country, one that he had not seen. Flowers swayed in the wind and the sky stretched out blue. A single airship was soaring through it. Her platinum-blond hair fluttering, a girl was dancing lightly in the skies of her native land.

''Has she gotten her wings back?''

Orba looked up and the illusion disappeared, taken by the wind that had been blowing since earlier.