Editing Tytania:Volume 2 Chapter 7 (section)

=== II ===
Never in the history of Bargash had such an obscure underground cavern welcomed so many people. Unfortunately, these were guests who were entirely devoid of friendship or courtesy.

The army that had invaded the underground cavern under the command of Duke Zarlisch Tytania numbered eight hundred men, two and a half times the size of the defending force. Moreover, the defenders included a man in his nineties; they stood no chance of resisting a head-on assault. Amid sporadic gunfire, they were forced to retreat every minute.

For their part, the Tytanians refrained from using heavy weapons or explosives, mindful of the risk of cave-ins; however, it appeared they would be able to corner and subdue the enemy deep within the underground cavern using only light weapons. After having a medic administer first aid to a wound on his forehead, Zarlisch, in true form, took his place at the head of his troops and advanced deeper into the cavern.

The advance of one side and the retreat of the other continued for some thirty minutes, punctuated by gunfire. However, a strange turn of events occurred after the retreating enemy had climbed to higher ground within our underground cavern and withdrawn their makeshift plastic bridge. Tytania’s troops were now forced to advance through a low-lying hollow within the cavern and climb the cliff face, but their pace suddenly slowed. Worse still, their formation began to break down, and even to Hyulick’s eyes, it was clear that their previously unified order was falling apart.

“What on earth is going on with them?”

“Hypoxia<ref name="ftn15">“Hypoxia” (低酸素症) is pronounced “hypoxia”.</ref>,” replied the voice of the woman wearing a sun visor.

“A large amount of highly concentrated carbon dioxide has accumulated at the bottom of that cave. It’s not uncommon in enclosed caves. Although we have made various artificial alterations to it ourselves, of course.”

“So it’s the giant dragon’s appendix, then.”

The woman let out a short chuckle, seemingly amused by Fan Hyulick’s turn of phrase.

“It was our last stronghold. The fact that the one who fell into our trap is Zarlisch Tytania is a stroke of luck beyond our wildest dreams. I suppose this means we’re in for a desperate counterattack now, isn’t it?”

The woman’s hand gripped her heat<ref name="ftn16">“Heat” (熱線) is pronounced "heat".</ref> rifle. Hyulick also seized the rifle assigned to him; just as they were about to exchange a few whispered instructions and press forward, he realised something.

“I’ve forgotten something important. There’s one thing I’d like to ask you while we’re at it.”

“What?”

“I haven’t heard your name yet.”

In the dim darkness of the cave, the woman blinked.

“If you were a first-class womaniser, you’d make a more clever pass.”

“Well, I’m not first-class. I don’t even have the sense to choose the right time and place. You can see that for yourself, can’t you?”

“I’d rather not.”

Suppressing her laughter, the woman raised her voice.

“So I won’t tell you now. Once we’ve left this underground cave and can walk proudly beneath the open sky, I’ll let you call me by my name.”

Leaving those words behind, the woman began to move forward, almost crawling. Without a word, Hyulick followed suit. About ten paces away, a voice rang out.

“Capture Lord Zarlisch! He’s a valuable hostage. Don’t kill him.”

What a hideous battle this had turned into. There must surely be a direct passage to purgatory beneath this planet. As he thought this, Fan Hyulick, as a direct participant in the events; had clearly lost his grip on reality. It wasn’t that he was experiencing symptoms of claustrophobia, but while underground, his powers of thought and emotion felt as though they were veiled by a membrane, leaving him unsteady.

“I see. It seems I really am a man of the cosmos after all.”

It was rather foolish to only realise this now, but perhaps it was better than not realising it at all. He realised he should leave the underground as soon as possible and throw himself into outer space. But that would have to wait until he had dealt with Tytania’s underground forces.

The firefight had resumed. The Tytania forces were at a geographical disadvantage, and their ability to resist was severely diminished by acute hypoxia. They were little more than sitting ducks, mowed down as they huddled at the bottom of the hollow.

After about ten minutes of fierce fire, gunfire and a raging storm, the return fire from the bottom of the carbon dioxide well had all but ceased. Zarlisch was still alive. Aiming for him, anti-Tytania soldiers, driven by a thirst for glory, scaled the cliff and surged forward.

“You thieving rats!”

The lion in human form roared, unleashing a burst of fury and brute strength. Three of Doctor Lee’s men were sent flying as if swept up by an explosion. One was slapped across the cheek, another kicked in the stomach, and a third struck in the collarbone with an elbow; all three fell in different directions.

It seemed that not even hypoxia could dampen this man’s vigour and fighting spirit. The fourth man to lunge at him ducked to avoid the blow and, in the same motion, swept Zarlisch’s knee with the butt of his heat-ray rifle. But the colossal figure merely wavered slightly before kicking Lieutenant Pagès to the ground. Without so much as a glance at Pagès, Zarlisch turned his attention to the fifth man.

The fifth man, that is, the colossal figure of Walenkov, proved to be the perfect target for Zarlisch. An onlooker might have thought he would do well to make a swift escape, but Zarlisch’s pride would not allow it; moreover, his judgement was likely impaired by hypoxia.

“Show a bit of appreciation. A Duke of Tytania is deigning to grapple with a lowly rat-thief such as yourself. Consider it a once-in-a-lifetime honour.”

“I wasn’t particularly looking forward to grappling anyone,” muttered Walenkov, looking annoyed.

He forcefully fended off Zarlisch’s grasping arm. He managed to fend him off twice, but on the third attempt, he was seized.

Zarlisch clamped his hands around Walenkov’s collar, crossing his wrists to apply a powerful stranglehold. Walenkov’s face flushed rapidly, and he clenched his fists, pounding Zarlisch’s stomach repeatedly. After half a dozen heavy blows landed on the same spot, Zarlisch’s grip finally loosened, perhaps he’d had enough, and Walenkov was able to catch his breath. However, as the air he inhaled was predominantly carbon dioxide, he felt dizzy and staggered.

Gasping for breath, Zarlisch crouched down, hoisted a stone the size of a child’s head, and attempted to smash it into Walenkov’s face. Walenkov swam through a pool of heavy, stagnant air and fell to his knees. The fighters’ movements lacked speed, lending the scene a touch of the comic, yet both were fighting for their lives.

It was a foolish dilemma. Either Duke Zarlisch Tytania or Lieutenant Walenkov would have to meet a senseless death. In that case, as a man far from saintly, Hyulick had no choice but to prioritise his friend’s life and fate.

“Don’t move, Lord Zarlisch! Put down the rock and raise your hands!”

Standing on the cliff top, looking straight down into the hollow below, Hyulick raised his thermal rifle. In the very next instant, something unbelievable happened. Just as Zarlisch’s eyes seemed to emit an eerie glow, a rock flew through the air and struck Hyulick at his feet. Hyulick was thrown into a state of utter panic, both mentally and physically; he lost his balance and tumbled down the steep slope of the cliff, swept along by a cascade of gravel. He struck every part of his body and found himself gasping for breath.

Just as he was finally managing to get to his feet, Zarlisch’s massive form loomed before him, his enormous hand gripping his collar. A growl filled with terrifying intensity delivered its verdict.

“You were, after all, destined to be killed by me. I shall now allow you to fulfil that destiny.”

“You clever boy, won’t your mummy tell you off if you don’t bring the big baddie back alive?”

It was impossible to have imagined beforehand just how much fury this single remark would unleash within Zarlisch’s colossal frame. In the blink of an eye, the Tytanian nobleman was transformed into a savage. Explosions of light shot from his eyes, and without a moment’s delay, his massive arm flashed into action.

A hard fist drove itself directly beneath Hyulick’s solar plexus. The young man with carrot-coloured hair was forced to endure excruciating pain in the name of defending freedom of speech.

He feared his stomach lining might have ruptured, but it had not come to that. However, the pain was mingled with a wave of nausea, and Fan Hyulick doubled over, coughing violently. With eyes literally bloodshot, no doubt from burst capillaries, Zarlisch watched his prisoner’s agony, laughed like a beast, and hurled him to the ground. With a sense of triumph, he shouted defiantly:

“Get up! I’ll keep beating you until you’re on the brink of death.”

Even at this stage, Zarlisch hadn’t given up on the idea of taking the prisoner back to his mother alive. This was not merely a matter of obsession; it was also accompanied by a practical calculation. His calculation was that, should a gun be pointed at him, he could use the prisoner as a human shield. It was this combination of brutality and strategic acumen that had made Zarlisch one of the most formidable ruthless generals of his time.

Not wanting to die while crouched on the ground, Hyulick struggled to get to his feet. Having fought in the thick carbon dioxide, a severe headache began to torment him.

Just as Hyulick finally managed to stand, Zarlisch was about to deliver another heavy blow when his entire body froze. A heat-ray rifle had appeared in Hyulick’s hand. It seemed like magic, but it was not. The woman in the sun visor had thrown the rifle from the top of the cliff into Hyulick’s hands with astonishing precision.