Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume8 Chapter3 (section)

=== Part 2 ===

North of Helio, at a distance that could be covered in about two and half days by a galloping horse, there was a comparatively large village. It was prosperous mainly from trade with the nomads. It was said that since the western Lake Kurán had been deemed holy, the ancestors of the inhabitants had cleared space for the village with the intention of protecting that sacred ground.

The meeting between Ax and the elders from the main clans would be held at a location a dozen or so kilometres east of the village.

The village itself had suddenly become animated thanks to Ax and the great crowd of people which had spontaneously amassed around him.

Everywhere he passed through on the way there, Ax had been welcomed. Whenever he approached a town or a village, droves of people crowded on either side of the highway to catch a glimpse of him. His name was called out repeatedly. The eyes turned towards him were the eyes of those gazing at a matchless king.

Atop his horse, Ax was at the summit of his triumph. He deeply felt that the power of the Bazgan House had finally been restored, and by none other than himself at that.

''I need to give thanks to Garda'' – He even thought fleetingly.

Because that sorcerer had run rampant, becoming a common ‘enemy’ for the west, it had become fertile ground for a hero such as himself to step forward and demonstrate his might.

''Even in myths and legends, vicious ‘enemies’ only exist to make the hero work hard and look good after all. Hmm, this might become the founding tale of the rebirth of Zer Tauran.''

Ax Bazgan happily indulged in childish fantasies.

In this village too a welcome banquet was going be held forthwith. All the notable villagers came up to greet him one after another.

Moreover, it appeared that a number of youths from this village had joined the punitive force against Garda. Ax personally praised the achievements of one who had survived and become a minor hero in the village. The youth’s cheeks flushed and his feverishly ardent eyes became blurred.

If, right then and there, Ax had ordered “Die for me”, he might well have slit his own throat with his sword. It was no wonder that, in a way, Ravan Dol was warier of Ax’s fame than of the enemy, but Ax himself saw the youth’s ecstasy as heart-warming.

In the house of the village chief, a dance that was a specialty of Tauran was struck up. Although, as this was a rural part of Tauran, neither the appearance nor the gyrations of the dancing girls were particularly refined.

''I miss Jaina’s dancing.''

While outwardly displaying satisfaction, Ax inwardly thought about his wife, who was a former dancer.

The melody from the flutes changed and the dancing girls were replaced by another group. Most of them did nothing to overturn Ax’s impression, but there was one beauty who caught his eye.

''Oh, that’s rare for the countryside.''

Her bearing was light and, from her fluttering hair to the tip of her toes, her movements were charming.

As Ax was greatly pleased with her, after the group dance was over, he had the beauty stay back and dance before him.

He continued to drink. Unusually for him, he became drunk.

''Not surprising.''

Even though Ax had confidence in his resistance to alcohol and in his stamina, he had left Taúlia to defeat Garda and after that there had been a succession of meetings in Eimen. Then, with no time to rest, he had extended his trip all the way to here. It felt good to know that from here on he would be praised as the west’s greatest hero, but on the other hand, having every single one of his actions attract attention was a little wearing on the nerves.

The alcohol and the beauty’s dance seemed to seep into his body.

The night grew late and Ax invited the beauty to the room that would serve as his lodgings.

Ax was full of vigour, yet after having made Jaina his wife, there had been no rumours of his having any love affairs. Nor had he taken a concubine.

While feeling surprised at himself, he asked – 

“You. Your name is?”

She paused for a moment as she poured alcohol.

“I am called Tahī.”

Her eyes shining a brilliant dark black by the light of the lamp, the beauty gave her name.

Ax made Tahī dance once again.

As he watched while she danced alone, wearing the dim, dusky light like a garment; Ax felt as though he were slipping through the boundary of dreams.

Through a seamlessly natural flow, they were in bed together.

Even then, Ax was in a dreamlike trance. Tahī’s ardent skin, soft lips, and supple limbs became the chains that robbed Ax’s mind and body of freedom. It was a strangely comfortable feeling. From somewhere other than his own nature, he seemed to be overflowing with a desire to leave his everything to another person and to simply fall asleep.

And so, when Tahī straddled his chest as though riding a horse, with a dagger gleaming in her hand, it was as though he were watching an act from a stage play and he was unable to grasp that his life was in danger.
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v08 127.jpg|thumb]]
Tahī’s somewhat thick lips parted in a smile and she swept the blade towards Ax’s breast in a rush of wind.

At that instant, a rough noise rose from outside the lodgings.

A sound like the reverberation of a thousand army boots or like lightning had just fallen nearby could be heard. It was the repeated roaring of dragons.

The invisible chain was torn away from Ax’s body and mind.

“You fucking…!”

He stretched out his hand for a sword but there wasn’t even the pillow which should have been there.

To be tricked by a woman’s wiles.

While Ax burned with regret, Tahī clicked her tongue. However, she immediately put her blade into a rough fighting stance and thrust it forward. Ax dodged twice but his body was sluggish. Even his brain felt dull, as though some foreign substance had gotten inside it.

“Anyone. Someone, get in here.”

He had meant to shout but only a voice as hoarse as an old man’s leaked out.

When Tahī leapt a third time, Ax tripped over his own feet and fell.

For the man who was praised everywhere as the ruler of the west to have his life cut short after having fallen into the clutches of a woman he had invited to his bedroom…

As Ax was thinking that, and just as the blade was about to plunge straight into his heart, a dragon was heard howling again.

“Why are there dragons here!”

It wasn’t Tahī who yelled but the soldiers outside the lodgings.

“Drive them away!”

“Bastard, what are you doing here – Uwah!”

Immediately after, the bedroom door opened and what appeared was neither brawny soldiers nor a new assassin beckoned by Tahī but, at a glance, a very ordinary, slightly-built middle-aged man.

As Ax, Tahī, and the soldiers who were racing in behind stared in surprise and confusion, the middle-aged man nodded to himself in satisfaction.

“It’s a case of being called by the lingering scent of Garda. As expected.”

“You are the one who hindered me?” Tahī spat out bitterly. Her expression warped into one of hatred and she looked like a completely different person from the one who had danced in front of Ax.

“Not me. My cute children.” He wore the same smile as when he performed magic tricks for the youngsters. Ax wasn’t familiar with him, but this man was the merchant who walked along with dragons. “The voices of those children disturb ether. Come and let yourself be tied up quietly. You will not be moving freely anymore.”

“You're taking me, Tahī, too lightly.”

So saying, Tahī kicked at the floor. With one bound, she was right before the merchant. The roar of dragons sounded three times. They had apparently been left in the garden.

Tahī’s body shook and lurched over.

As if by magic, the merchant produced a long rope from his breast and casually threw it. One of the tricks he showed off in public was to use a lasso to catch the neck of a dragon which was far away; but this time, it twined unerringly around Tahī’s neck and, coiling repeatedly around her sensual limbs, it prevented her from moving.

It was a skilful ability. However  –

“Ngh!”

As soon as Tahī made a sound, the ropes were cut apart in mid-air then that supple body leapt higher and higher. Landing behind the merchant, she then slipped past the side of the dumbfounded soldiers and vanished from sight.

“Oh,” turning around towards the direction she had darted off in, the merchant spoke without either a smile nor a sigh. “That’s a surprise. If she had been a normal sorcerer, she would not have been able to use a single magic trick after the ether had been disturbed. It might be that this isn’t unrelated to us.”

Having finally snapped back to themselves, the soldiers surrounded the merchant on either side.

“B-Bastard!”

“Don’t move!”

“Wait,” Ax held them back with a wave of his hand.

Normally he would be roaring angrily at the soldiers for so easily allowing a suspicious person to come near him; but in this case, he himself had invited a viper to his bedroom. His head was still dull and he pressed a hand against it.

“Did you say Garda? That woman, who is she? And you?”

“You really should be careful, Sir Ax Bazgan.” As though ignoring Ax’s question, the merchant bobbed his head, still wrapped in the turban with feathers stuck in it. That too was a gesture that resembled those of a conjurer before a spectator.

“It would seem that the sorcerers can’t ignore you either. Although we cannot carelessly interfere in the west. If we were to lose Sir Ax now, it would be a hard blow for us. Although that is only now, at this moment, and I cannot promise that it will still be the same in a year’s time, or even tomorrow.”

“Sorcerers, is it. Then that woman really is a survivor from Garda’s subordinates.”

“That is half right and half wrong. Since Garda has not been destroyed.”

“What!”

“Oops, and I was given such strict orders not to give too much unnecessary information. People have their path to follow and evil spirits have theirs. It is said that having the two domains penetrate too far into one another throws even the golden mean of fate into disarray. With that, I’ll be taking my leave Sir Ax. Ruler of the west.”

“Wait!”

This time Ax was about to give orders to the soldiers to seize the man. But there was something strange about the hand he lifted. It felt as though the governor-general of Taúlia had once again fallen into a magic snare.

“You need only remember this,” the merchant’s voice was already fading away yet it was still accompanied by a booming reverberation. “You asked me who I am, but my own name has no significance. However, I come from the Barbaroi village. For now, remember only this.”

Ax abruptly looked around, but there were only the soldiers, who looked as though they too had only just come back to themselves, and the merchant’s figure had disappeared.

He mobilised a great many soldiers and had them search the surrounding area; but the middle-aged man, the three unusual dragons that he had with him, and, of course, the dancer who called herself Tahī, were not to be found.

Soon, the sun began to rise. Ax was bathed in the light that was shining brilliantly over the mountain ridge and, as the shadows were driven away, he began to wonder if that night’s happenings hadn’t all been illusions.

However –

''Garda and… Barbaroi.''

Ax tightly grasped the war fan that he carried closely on him. At this point, Garda’s name needed no explanation. As for Barbaroi, it was the name of a village said to be located around the sacred ground of Kurán. According to legend, the Ryuujin, the original inhabitants of the planet who had once been displaced by mankind, still lived in that land.

He was suddenly seized with the thought that there might be an as yet unknown link between the rampage of the sorcerer who called himself Garda and Mephius’ sudden invasion.

“Hmph,” Ax gave a loud snort. “Whatever plots may lie beneath the surface of this world, they are all simply preparations to allow me, Ax, to govern the whole of the western lands. Just as Garda himself was. I cannot die until the power of the Bazgan House shines upon the entirety of this western wilderness. That is the only thing which is certain. That is the only thing I need pray for.”

The next thing Ax thought was –

''It’s a good thing Ravan isn’t here.''

There could be no greater disgrace than to be killed by a woman he had called over himself. Being scolded directly was fine but with Ravan, he would definitely be in for relentless and unending sarcasm.

At the same time, when he thought that ''if Ravan had been here – I wouldn’t have gotten into that situation in the first place'' – Ax felt uncomfortable for a reason other than having had his life targeted.