Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume8 Chapter1 (section)

=== Part 2 ===

In that very Mephius, at Apta, its westernmost tip, a large crowd was milling about despite the early hour. Just like the people of Taúlia, their expressions were filled with anxiety and trepidation. The roar of artillery fire that had reverberated around dawn had been more than enough to disturb their quiet sleep.

It was after the sun had fully risen that the troops led by Nabarl returned.

Unlike in Taúlia, this was not a "triumphant return". The armour of the soldiers on horseback seemed heavy. The figures of the wounded were conspicuous. No matter how you looked at it, they were a bedraggled, broken-down group from a defeated army.

Unerasable exhaustion and humiliation also clung to the face of Nabarl Metti, who rode first; but as the commander-in-chief, he struck as proud a pose as he could. However, that was only after he had passed through the gate.

He had been riding his horse hard until they had crossed the River Yunos, focused on nothing but escaping. Pashir stuck close to him from behind, a behaviour he was forced to adopt to protect Nabarl's back, and which only served to expose the general's shameful behaviour all the more.

Nabarl was a commander who took pride in his many military achievements. Before leaving for the front, he was confident that this battle could not be lost. They had gotten information that very few troops had been left in Taúlia; the tactic that he had chosen was that once he had himself lured those remaining forces to the border, a detached force would attack Taúlia by surprise.

Even if by some chance his perception was wrong and it took a little more time, defeat was unthinkable.

In effect, Nabarl believed he had a ninety percent chance of victory on the battlefield, then suddenly the situation had been reversed. The ones caught in a pincer movement were not Taúlia but instead the main body of Nabarl's troops. Darren's detached force had probably been annihilated. César, who was acting as vice-commander of Nabarl's troops, was also nowhere to be seen.

It was an overwhelming defeat.

In these few hours, Nabarl Metti's plump cheeks, which usually jiggled when he was on horseback, seemed to have completely sunk in. But, even so, as he went through the streets of Apta, his face was expressionless to the last.
His attitude as he jumped off his horse was as though he had only gone for a long ride or something routine like that. Then, after handing the bridle to the attendants and without paying any attention to the voices that hailed him, he returned with long strides to the highest room in Apta's castle - the room that Prince Gil had once stayed in.

As soon as he shut the door, Nabarl went wild. He knocked down the vase displayed by the entrance, drew out his sword, sliced through the table and chairs, and then kicked away the fragments with all his strength. By the time Rogue and Odyne had hurried over, having learned of Nabarl's return, there wasn't even a chair left to offer them.

When he was informed of the two generals' visit, Nabarl very much considered yelling; but by then he had somewhat regained his composure and, breathing hard, he ordered the chamberlains to quickly clean the room. A long table was brought out of a spare room and a map of Apta's surroundings was spread out on top, exactly as though he had been closely examining strategies.

Receiving Nabarl's permission, Rogue Saian – general of the Dawnlight Wings Division – and Odyne Lorgo – general of the Silver Axe Division – entered the room.

They had come to Apta having been ordered to conquer Taúlia. However, because Nabarl had gotten worked up about "doing it with my soldiers alone," they had remained in Apta to hold the defensive line. Although neither of the two generals was enthusiastic about the conquest of Taúlia, they still couldn't hide their surprised expressions that Nabarl had returned after being routed.

"Does Taúlia have that great a number of soldiers?"

"About double ours. Ah... no, more than expected but not... not that much..."

Nabarl articulated falteringly. He was ashamed at having been defeated by a small armed force. But if he said that the number of soldiers had exceeded his expectations it would also make his own reading of the situation, on which he had based his strategy, seem shallow. To top it off, before taking the field, Nabarl had declared with great dignity that this strategy had been "elaborated together with His Imperial Majesty."

Rogue Saian suddenly felt pity for the man.

"War is a living creature. No matter how carefully a strategy is laid, the situation can change at a drop of a hat. Besides which, there's the matter of luck. It seems that this time fortune was on Taúlia's side."

He spoke sympathetically but his manner had the opposite effect and only stoked the flames of Nabarl's anger.

"No!" Nabarl suddenly raised his voice and pounded his fleshy fist against the table. "I am no god and I could accept it if it were said to be fate, but this isn't the kind of thing which can be settled with a few words about luck. This was vile treachery!"

"Treachery?"

"Yes, Garbera's princess, Vileena Owell. That accursed woman betrayed us to Taúlia."

"Impossible!" Both generals cried out together. Because the name which had been brought up was so unexpected, they suspected that the shock of defeat might perhaps have caused the man in front of them to lose his sanity.

They were more than half right.

Although it was true that the princess had betrayed secret information, when he had heard about it, Nabarl had not believed that it would overturn the war situation. Rather, he had judged it to be convenient, since on top of undoubtedly drawing the enemy to the border, the information brought by Vileena would rile up the enemy.

But Nabarl craved a good excuse to be able to recover from the shock and heavy blow of losing the battle. Although he had often stood at the front lines, he was not use to the position of commander-in-chief and was not able to bear the entire burden of responsibility.

Vileena giving up secret information was a perfect detail for Nabarl to grasp onto.

''That damn viper. She was definitely sent from Garbera to sink her poisonous fangs into Mephius.''

While he was telling Rogue and Odyne about the scene in which she had put on airs like some kind of hero and had haughtily ordered him to "pull up camp," Nabarl even started believing in his own heart that such was undoubtedly the truth.

Odyne called one of his men, whom he had left on standby outside the door, and had him check whether the princess was currently in the castle. The answer was immediate. Since the previous evening, the princess' lady's maid had been kicking up a ruckus as the princess had not returned.

"Why did you not alert me at once?"

"B-Because after all, the war was about to start... My deepest apologies."

Odyne clicked his tongue. He exchanged glances with the old general Rogue next to him. Each seemed to expect to see their own emotions in the other's expression. Nor was that expectation misplaced.

''The princess has taken action.''

It wasn't that either Rogue or Odyne had a particularly deep connection with Princess Vileena but neither did they believe, as Nabarl did, that she was "just an empty-headed little girl". Of course she must have known what the repercussions of her actions would be – for Mephius, for the west, and also for her home country of Garbera.

"There's no point in talking about the Princess' betrayal any more this." Nabarl said, although it was he himself who had spoken about it interminably, and then immediately started to reorganise the troops as he was determined to get a second shot in at Taúlia. "It's true that the enemy ambushed us, but even with that, Taúlia is practically in our grasp. If anything, it's their side that barely made it out alive. They will be full of themselves from having driven us back, so we will attack without delay. This time, I will be asking the two of you for your assistance as well."

Staring into the eyes of the two generals, he said that almost half threateningly.

The two of them however firmly objected. Nabarl had not yet cooled down from the excitement of war. If they let themselves engage with the enemy again, there was a high chance that they would suffer another blow.

"Have you lost your nerve?" Nabarl glared angrily at them.

"The situation has changed from when you received His Majesty's orders. Before anything else, send a messenger to Solon. Or are you saying that His Majesty's orders were to wage a war of extermination no matter how many times we are driven back?" coaxed Rogue.

Nabarl was just as terrified of being blamed by the emperor for his failure as he was of altering the emperor's orders. His mental state before he had left for battle was that of one who didn't fear even the gods, but once his support was removed, that confidence turned flimsy.

He reluctantly agreed. He may have lost some of his composure but he certainly wouldn't think to attack Taúlia again with only his own partially annihilated troops.

A messenger was sent to Solon and, while they waited for a reply, this time he asked Rogue and Odyne for their cooperation in strengthening Apta's defence line. For the moment, Taúlia was not making any move. Neither an attack nor a messenger seemed to be coming their way, and all they had was information that reinforcements were gathering rapidly.

Nabarl's impatience increased day by day.




Rogue Saian similarly received a detailed report from a soldier on look-out duty. There were movements that seemed to indicate that the west was banding together against Mephius. If that was the case, then as soon as either one crossed the border, it might turn into a large-scale war. Even Emperor Guhl Mephius should not easily decide to make a move but –

''The emperor as he is now'' - Might try to make the west submit by force.

When he had decided to seize Taúlia, Guhl Mephius had not had any just cause to do so. He had heard from Nabarl that it was because Crown Prince Gil had been assassinated by Taúlian underlings; but even the so-called emperor faction - to which he suspected Nabarl belonged - were unlikely to believe that was the truth.

''If His Majesty gives the order to charge yet again…'' Doubts about what he should do swirled within Rogue's chest.

If his orders were to fight grandly against a detested enemy and die, even now Rogue would not shake his head and refuse. As long as he could write a single letter to his family, after that, he would have no regrets. Clad in the armour that had been passed down from generation to generation by his ancestors, he would gladly face his final battlefield with sword in hand.

But Rogue had no grudge against the west. Besides, Prince Gil had chosen friendship with that land. Even if it was his lord's command, would he be able to drive his men into a fight devoid of any righteousness, and order them to die?

''Even at my age, doubts don't go away.''

Not a day went by that there wasn't a crease in Rogue's forehead, which didn't disappear even during full-day training sessions.
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v08 041.jpg|thumb]]
From what he had heard, the feelings of Apta's inhabitants were split in two. Only in this land, which had shared a connection with the Prince, were there voices yelling furiously that they needed to destroy Taúlia and avenge the Prince, and also voices that calmly rebuked them, saying that there must be some mistake since not so long ago a messenger of friendship had come directly from Taúlia.

If the people of Taúlia remembered Prince Gil, the people of Apta remembered seeing Princess Esmena.

Above all else, there was the practical issue that if war broke out again, Apta might become a battlefield. The fortress had been bombed by Prince Gil himself in order to repel an all-out attack and, with its full reconstruction finally almost in sight, the people were deeply worried.

As these voices reached his ears, Rogue's hesitations grew increasingly strong.

He was, however, a born warrior. Separate from his personal convictions or from his concern for the people's mood, there was a part of him that was carefully examining the war. If an exchange of hostilities could not be avoided, how should they fight?

Rogue had already heard the details of the battle from Pashir, a soldier who had taken part in it alongside Nabarl. He had formerly been an Imperial Guard but, because Nabarl wanted the skill of the runner-up in the gladiatorial tournament, or perhaps to make his unit look better, he had forcefully incorporated him into his troops.

According to him, it wasn't through lack of tactics that Nabarl had failed to break through to the enemy's centre. He had attempted a surprise attack by boldly advancing his soldiers through the Belgana Summits, which could be called a natural stronghold - a daring method that Rogue's age would not have allowed him to consider. Nabarl had no doubt meticulously investigated the terrain before marching. It was not a common plan and it had been carefully prepared.

Yet in spite of that, Taúlia had pushed back Nabarl's troops with only a small army.

''Even if they had the geographical advantage and the information from Garbera's princess, I don't think that's the entire reason.''

''The Princess. Right, the Princess, huh...?''

No matter how much he knew that he should be focusing on the war, the doubts within the old general's chest wouldn't die down. Every time he thought about the Garberan princess' actions and worried about her whereabouts, Rogue had the impression that his cheeks were tensing involuntarily.




Elsewhere.

Although he had suffered a defeat, the commander-in-chief at Apta was still Nabarl Metti. Neither Rogue nor Odyne could move a single soldier without his permission. The two of them had pestered him into organising a unit separate from the defence formation.

A search party for the princess.

Since the battle with Taúlia, her whereabouts were unknown.

''Hmph'' – Nabarl snorted in disinterest.

It seemed that Rogue and Odyne still did not believe that the princess had acted as she had, but Nabarl had seen her head towards Taúlia with his own eyes and had heard the information she held with his own ears. He had also personally witnessed her creating a disturbance on the battlefield in an airship.

"She's missing? She must have gone back to Taúlia. Around about now, she's probably making a show of being the heroine from some old tale and fanning the Taúlian's morale by spreading slander about Mephius."

Nabarl had been completely uninterested in looking for her, but then he received an unexpected visitor.

He was said to be a messenger from Solon. Nabarl had gone pale, wondering what kind of reprimand he would receive from the Emperor. But thinking about it carefully, it was too early for it to be a response to the news of his defeat.

Moreover, the visitor's appearance was abnormal. Maybe he was a follower of Badyne as he had a cloth wound around his head that made it difficult to distinguish his features. At any rate, he wasn't someone that one would immediately associate with Guhl Mephius, who was said to want to make the Dragon Gods faith the state religion, but what he held out was unmistakably a letter bearing the emperor of Mephius' signature.

Nabarl was cornered into a state of utter nervousness, but the visitor had a surprising purpose.

"Garbera's princess?"

"Precisely," the man spoke in a rusty voice and it was hard to tell whether he was young or not. "His Majesty allowed her to go to the Nedain area, but she unexpectedly and without permission took one of our country's air carriers and proceeded towards Apta. Even for a guest, her willfulness goes too far. The Princess will not be allowed any further freedom and it is my duty to escort her back to Solon."

"B-But the Princess is..."

"I know. And so, please lend me some soldiers. We will go and search for her."

The man who had introduced himself as Kiril did not falter as he answered. The Princess had betrayed secret information to an enemy country and, on top of that, she had gone missing in enemy territory - although this situation should have been completely impossible to predict, his attitude was as calm as could be.

"Y-You will?"

"It is more convenient if I am the one doing the searching."

Kiril's fingers parted the cloth that hung on either side of his face. Nabarl almost gasped rudely, as what came into his sight was the face of a Zerdian. He felt as though he had been tricked by a shape-shifting fox, but thinking about it, the elders with whom the Emperor had recently been growing closer were all, without exception, Zerdians.

He appeared to have brought about thirty other Zerdians with him. One would have thought that would be more than enough for a search party but as he pointed out –

"We will search along the border. So there is a chance that we will be attacked by the enemy."

For the moment, Nabarl was rendered speechless.

Even having seen Kiril's face, he was unable to say from his features whether he was young or old. The space between his eyes was plump but his cheeks were so hollow that they seemed to have been scrapped off with a knife. Although he wasn't particularly tall, his arms that were stretched out on the desk were surprisingly long.

Nabarl felt that the conversation was strange, but in the end, he had twenty or so soldiers join Kiril. It was a small price to pay if it meant that Rogue and Odyne would stop pestering him.

''But I don't understand…''

After hearing that they had immediately left Apta, Nabarl closely studied the letter that Kiril had handed over. In it was Empress Melissa's name. It appeared that she had negotiated directly with the elders to have such a large number of people dispatched.

''I wouldn't have thought that the Empress minded the Garberan girl that much. Hmph, well, it doesn't matter however it goes.''

If the princess' misconduct came to light, Nabarl's wound at having lost the battle would heal somewhat and his reputation would also recover. And above all else, if he could skilfully offer this argument against Garbera during the discussions about them, the emperor would no doubt remember him more favourably.

Such were Nabarl's thoughts; but even after the search party had left, his impatience didn't fade in the slightest. There was a reason for that.

''The issue with the princess isn't enough.''

Simply put, he sensed that more was needed in order to cover up his own failure.

From being someone who employed mercenaries, Nabarl had achieved the amazing success of being chosen to be one of the twelve generals. But that was all simply because the emperor had willed it. In other words, he was terrified that this time, on no more than a single whim, his position would plummet lower than the ground. He felt as though he had only risen halfway to the sky and now felt a strong desire to find even one more argument to escape responsibility.

"How about the Imperial Guards?"

The one who sensed Nabarl's worries and whispered that to him was one of his long-time retainers, named Gareth. He had been like a younger brother to Darren, the vice-captain who had died in battle in the Belgana Summits.

"What? The Imperial Guards?"

"Those former slaves that the prince specially selected. There are suspicions that they know the truth about the prince's death and pinned the crime on General Oubary Bilan."

For a moment, Nabarl was surprised at the vehemence of Gareth's tone but of course, as far as Emperor Guhl was concerned, the testimony of the Imperial Guards was a hindrance to his claim that the prince had been killed by the west. Because of that, he had ordered Nabarl to restrict their freedom for the time being.

"It looks like they also had a connection to the princess. Isn't it possible that even though they stayed in Mephius, they were feeding advance information to Taúlia?"

"That might well be right..." Nabarl nodded solemnly. In this sort of situation, so to speak, Gareth had the same role as Colyne Isphan did towards Emperor Guhl. Shrewdly reading the emotions of those above him, he drew near them and convincingly spoke out those thoughts on their behalf. "If not for that, such a complete defeat would have been impossible."

"Indeed. And if information is still being leaked, it will start to affect morale. Some of the Guards will have to be made to tell the truth after they have been delivered to his Majesty, but he won't care if we execute a few of them as an example."

"Hmm," Nabarl crossed his brawny arms. Although nights in Apta were cooler than in Solon, the middle of the day was hot. Sweat trickled from his forehead and ran down his plump cheeks.

As Gareth said, executing the former Imperial Guards as traitors would not be a bad move. Just like him, his men had taken a blow from their defeat and if they could attribute their powerlessness to someone else, they should be able to recover their damaged morale. Half of Nabarl's unit were from other mercenary units, but half of them were companions that he had shared meals with from the same pot since the time when he himself had been a mercenary captain. Now that he had become one of the twelve generals, he felt that he wanted to let them see some luck.

That being the case, he needed to have them recover their spirits. From here on and, no matter what reinforcements came rushing from Solon, it absolutely had to be Nabarl Metti's troops which defeated Taúlia.

That said…

The timing was a little off for an execution. It had already been seven days since their defeat. He needed some kind of an excuse. After a moment, Nabarl uncrossed his arms.

"If I remember right, there's a woman among the Imperial Guards."

"Huh? Ah, err... the one who's said to be in charge of taking care of the dragons."

"Yeah. That woman... She's definitely from the west, huh."

The gleam of impatience had faded somewhat from Nabarl's eyes and in its place the light of cruelty glittered.




Approximately twenty former Imperial Guards were being confined in a large chamber beneath the barracks. Gowen and Hou Ran as well as the commander of the airship unit, Neil Thompson, Miguel Tes – who had fought against Orba during the gladiatorial tournament, and Krau – whom the prince had put in charge of steering ships were all to be seen. Pashir, who had gone into battle alongside Nabarl in the fight against Taúlia, had also been brought there.

He had never been a talkative man, but since coming back he had hardly opened his mouth. Irritated at being locked up, Miguel had wanted to hear his war stories but had received a cold shoulder and it had almost turned into a huge fight.

The one who warned them off brawling was Gowen, but as the time passed without anything happening, his eyes would occasionally meet Pashir's. Since it seemed that those eyes were trying to catch his attention, Gowen was about to draw nearer to him when he abruptly shifted his gaze.

It was unlike that man, whose mind and body were both like steel, to wear such a hesitant expression.

''He's not thinking of escaping, is he?''

But Gowen was no exception either and, in this situation in which he had no way of knowing what was going to happen next, his irritation was growing.

Since the emperor had declared that Prince Gil's assassination had been carried out by Taúlia's agents, he had some idea of how they were going to be dealt with. Maybe it was time to give up on Mephius and seriously work out a plan of escape.

It was then that soldiers under Nabarl's command appeared in the chamber. Wondering if the time for their execution had arrived, he was about to take up a stance at the ready, but they called out for Hou Ran.

"What do you want with her?" Asked Gowen, Ran's foster father.

"The dragons won't settle down," a soldier explained in a rude tone. "When we asked the other dragon handlers, they said that they only listen to this woman's orders. So we're letting you out for a bit. But only to look after the dragons, you're not being allowed any freedom."

Ran didn't interrupt. She was by nature a girl who spent most of her waking hours with dragons. She wasn't likely to object.

''Ran'' – Gowen glanced at her significantly to send her a warning – ''don't get any strange thoughts. Go with them quietly for now.''

Although she was a girl whose expression didn't change much, Gowen had learnt to understand what she was thinking. They had heard the news that Princess Vileena had gone missing after they had been imprisoned, and Ran's attitude had shown that she was worried.

Smiling faintly, Ran patted Gowen on the shoulder as though to say ''I know'' and was led out of the chamber by the soldiers.

A few minutes later, and under the soldiers' supervision, Ran had started tending to the dragons. These included not only the dragons from Apta but also the ones that General Saian had sent by ship from Nedain. In other words, they were her old "acquaintances."

The soldiers couldn't hide their surprise when she leaped unaided into the cage, touched the dragons' scales, and guided them while straddling them directly.

But that was only at first.

"You seem to be really used to handling dragons. Do you tame men as well?"

"I hear you also took care of sword slaves."

"Won't you look after us too? We can be as rough as any dragon."

They each raised their voices obscenely.

Ran however ignored them - or rather, she continued working as though their words hadn't even reached her ears. Her expression grew lively.

Eventually the soldiers got tired of it and stopped talking, but their surveillance still continued. Their words had run out but in exchange, the light of naked lust was in their eyes as they continued staring at Hou Ran's body.