Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume8 Chapter6 (section)

=== Part 3 ===

And thus, dawn had finally started to break.

Compared to the outskirts of Solon, nights in Apta were surprisingly chilly. Only the night’s dark shadows were receding, leaving that cool air behind. That morning, the wind was especially clear.

''It would have been nice if it had been tomorrow'' – thought Rogue Saian as he breathed in the scent of the invigorating breeze.

As was typical for the air forces, most of Rogue’s men were young. They had not been in Apta for long but he had heard that there were many among them who had immediately started making advances towards the servants in the fort and the town girls, and who were thoroughly enjoying the time before they headed off to the battlefield.

That morning was a fine day for taking a stroll. Rogue was thinking that if the execution had been the next day, they could have leisurely spent this special period with their lovers.

But the time was drawing near. He had no intention of reversing his decision anymore.

At about the same time that the ridgeline of the Belgana Summits was starting to shine white in the west, the former Imperial Guards were lead into the open space. When their figures came into sight, the people gathered around the training grounds all burst into jeers and angry shouts.

“How dare you betray Lord Gil!”

“Ingrates!”

“We’ll piss on your corpses!”

Gil had served as lord of Apta. It had only been for a very short period but, because he had accomplished many heroic actions from there, his popularity among the townspeople was high. Compared to the people in the capital, Solon, their feelings of grief were far greater.

Among them however were also those who kept their mouths shut as they watched the former Imperial Guards being tied to the cross-shaped stakes. Because the prince’s popularity was high, every piece of gossip associated with Gil was discussed at length in Apta. The story about how his Imperial Guards were mostly former sword slaves who had become the prince’s hands and feet, and occasionally his eyes and ears, was easy for the people to empathize with and was widely whispered about in support of him. Therefore, there was a segment of the population that distrusted the tale that the Guards had planned the prince’s assassination and who, in part because they were far from Solon, openly gossiped that – “it was definitely all invented so that the emperor could start a war with the west.”

And so it was that as a crowd of people looked on, the men were one after another bound to the stakes they were to be crucified on. If they tried to resist even a little, they were hit with swords and pikestaffs.

“Shit!”

“We haven’t done anything. Let go!”

On top of not originally being regular enlisted soldiers, they had been accused of a crime they had not committed. They could not be said to be resolutely going out to meet death. There were even some who struggled so violently that it needed several guards to subdue them. It was to the point that it looked like they might be killed before the execution.

Among all that, neither Pashir nor Gouwen had lost their composure.

In Pashir’s case, he was thinking that – ''So Mephius will have killed me after all, huh?'' When he had first made up his mind to at least return a blow to Mephius and fight, at that time, he had already given up on life. Because the strange existence that was Gil Mephius had barged into it, the end of that life had been extended. That was all there was to it.

Gouwen for his part had been the commander of the former Imperial Guards.

Under normal circumstances, he was in a position to give testimony directly to the emperor if he was charged with a crime, but of course, Emperor Guhl Mephius did not wish to know the real situation or rather, he viewed those who knew the details of the affair as a nuisance. Narbal had divined as much and had placed Gowen’s name at the top of the list of those to be executed.

Gowen himself was as calm as Pashir was. He also found some salvation from the fact that his adopted daughter Hou Ran had, for now, escaped execution. Although the fate that awaited her was unlikely to be good – ''she’s a clever girl. Much trickier than those people who look down on her''.

He felt that since it was Hou Ran, in a few days’ time, she would be de driving the dragons into the horizon with an unconcerned look on her face and without worrying about herself. Gowen grinned broadly as he was being bound to the crucifixion stake.

Originally, he had not felt any great unhappiness about his life as an overseer of slaves, but at the same time, he did not remember getting any warmth from it either. He sent slaves out to their deaths and expected to simply die in obscurity one day. Then he had gone to work for Orba, who become the crown prince’s body double, and had started living with his adopted daughter. Those days had been like a dream. So he no longer had any regrets in this world.

It was only that –

''That guy, where is he and what is he doing?''

Orba’s figure suddenly came to his mind.

And like that, the fifty men were tied to the stakes.

In a moment, the uproarious noise stopped completely. The quality of the air grew different. As though to plug the yawning gap that had opened up within the noise, a row of soldiers carrying guns had appeared in the open space. Commanding them was the adjutant, Gareth. If one went back to the origin, it was he who had suggested executing the Imperial Guards.

As their surroundings fell quiet, and while their steel helmets were bathed in the pale light of the early morning sun, the soldiers each took up their positions.

Fixedly watching the proceedings, Rogue Saian gave a single sigh.

Finally.

When Gareth raised his arm and gave the order to “Fire!”, Rogue’s men would rush in to stop him. Then Rogue himself would draw the sword from his waist and challenged Nabarl. He would use him as a shield, capture his soldiers, and release the Imperial Guards. Afterwards, he would wait for the sentence from Solon.

And, just as he had declared to Odyne, until the moment his doom was upon him, he would not allow a single soldier to cross into the west.

His feelings were clear. He had barely eaten or slept during the past three days. Anyway, he would only be woken by nightmares if he lay down. Rogue’s family was in Solon. Even if he tried not to think about it, the worst possible scenarios of the treatment the enraged emperor would inflict upon them came to his mind.

He would see scenes of his young wife and childish son becoming silent corpses.

''Forgive me'' – he prayed, closing his eyes.

When he opened them once more, the soldiers had finished lining up. All of them had their guns at the ready. Then, as Rogue was breathing a deep sigh, another person suddenly appeared.

“You…”

Odyne Lorgo. He gave Rogue a sidelong glance and said, “I’m going with you. I have my men lying in wait outside Apta. Even if Nabarl’s subordinates send out messengers, they will be able to buy us time.”

“O-Odyne…”

“General, I am not lightly choosing death. My mind is made up. Let’s wage war on the emperor of Mephius, the two of us, here from Apta. From here, we will call out to our fellow-countrymen and gather comrades.”

“We can’t. Who will gain from it if we revolt now? If I stake my life on…”

“It’s too late. General Saian, I am no one’s slave. I think for myself and decide for myself.”

Rogue and Odyne’s gazes met.

Meanwhile, Gareth stepped in front of the criminals and read the charges out loud. Once he had finished, he withdrew to behind the soldiers. ''Is it finally the time?'' The people held their breath at that sign.

The sun had risen over the mountain ridgeline and the stakes were casting long, black shadows that bisected the shapes of the people with black.

Gareth’s arm rose.

As many guns as there were criminals were lifted onto shoulders.

In the instant that Gareth's mouth opened and he seemed about to order “Fire!” –

A figure suddenly came running.

“General, General!”

Gareth and Nabarl were not the only ones to be astounded, Rogue, who had been about to signal his men, was too.

Something like a burning hope welled up in the old general’s chest. However –

“Taúlian soldiers,” the guard who had been monitoring the border that was the River Yunos knelt in front of Nabarl. “Taúlian soldiers have been sighted on the other side of the River Yunos!”
 



When Rogue and the others, Nabarl included, rushed to the top of the cliff that projected westwards, they saw that Taúlian soldiers were indeed lined up side-by-side along the opposite shore. They did not, however, seem to have set up camp. Their attention was drawn to a single airship. It was flying a black-and-white bisected flag.

It denoted a messenger.

“They don’t seem to have hidden any guns.” Nabarl had borrowed binoculars from the border guards and was peering into the distance. He gave his permission for landing.

Everyone looked tense as the airship swooped down.

And when the man – the messenger from Taúlia – alighted, he said something strange to Nabarl.

“The soldiers who were captured by Taúlia that last time will hereon be returned to your country by boat.”

Rogue could not understand the timing: why now? Nabarl however was nothing but pleased.

“The enemy is afraid of us. They’re definitely doing this in the hope of avoiding all-out war.”

Regardless, they had no reason to refuse.

Once Nabarl gave his permission, a number of small boats were put to water on the opposite shore. On each of them, several men were placed on board. Naturally, Nabarl did suspect that it might be some kind of trap, so he gave the order that the border guards were to fly their airships with their guns trained and ready. After all, the enemy might be trying to divert their attention while they attacked elsewhere.

The first of the boats landed at the bank. One of the soldiers who had gone out to meet it was heard to raise his voice in delight. It seemed that he knew them. Which meant that they were undoubtedly the Mephian war prisoners.

The sun had fully risen by then and the River Yunos was a bright white. Because of the glare from the surface of the water, Rogue narrowed his eyes to see.

As he watched the men clamber onto the bank, then climb up the path carved into the cliff, Rogue’s eyes narrowed for a different reason. Most of the captives were all but naked, but among them there was one person who wore a deep hood that hid their face. Nor was that person obeying the soldiers’ instructions and he was boldly striding forward.

Nabarl thought that he must be someone from his own unit. No doubt he wanted to apologise for the humiliation of having been taken prisoner. Nabarl smiled and was about to greet him, intending to generously clasp him by the shoulders, when – 

“What’s the meaning of those stakes?”

“W-What?”

The man wearing a hood jerked his chin towards the line of stakes that was visible even from where they were.

“I’m asking what you intend to do next.”

''T-This bastard''. Nabarl’s smile had frozen and his eyes were flaring angrily. At any rate, it seemed he was not one of his men. Nor, judging from his manner, was he someone who had been taken captive. Which meant that he must be an envoy from Taúlia. Nabarl did not know if he had accompanied the restoration of the war prisoners intending to establish negotiations, but at any rate his manner of speaking was haughty.

“There is no need for talk. Even with the return of the prisoners, Taúlia’s crime will not disappear.”

“Crime?” amidst the pale morning sun, the man once again looked down towards the line of stakes that seemed oddly detached from reality. “Rogue,” he called out to the old general who stood beside Nabarl. Addressing him without any title of respect. “What do you think?”

He shifted his gaze beneath the hood. In that moment, Rogue Saian’s expression had grown extremely tense.

“What do I think a-about what?”

“Is Taúlia really guilty of such a heinous crime?”

“T-That…”

The soldiers near Nabarl looked doubtfully at Rogue’s flustered state. Thereupon, without waiting for an answer, the man addressed the general who stood on the opposite side of Nabarl from Rogue.

“Odyne.”

Odyne Lorgo in his turn stood straight as though he had been jolted by an electrical current. His eyes were open wide, as though turning the corner of an alleyway, he had suddenly seen the face of someone who should have been dead.

“I’ll ask you too. What is this crime that General Nabarl talks about?”

“That,” Odyne’s voice got caught in his throat. He coughed loudly to clear it. “Taúlia’s crime is that of having assassinated the crown prince.” Perhaps because he was so agitated, his wording was unusually stiff.

Nabarl sneered in ridicule. “The Taúlian savages don’t seem to know courtesy. You’ve already finished your business. So hurry up and turn tail back to your own land. Although how much longer that land will be yours is...”

“The crown prince’s assassination?” Ignoring Nabarl, the man in the hood spoke without inflection. With a sidelong glance at Nabarl, whose face was going crimson with anger, he looked at Rogue and Odyne in turn. “Then I’ll ask you one other thing. Do you believe that? That Taúlia really did assassinate Crown Prince Gil?”

“I… no, we...” Odyne started to answer but then stopped.

It was Rogue who carried on. “We did not witness the actual scene. From start to finish, it was His Imperial Majesty who investigated the situation, and who concluded that this was the case. What could we do but abide by his words? It was the same for everyone here, from the generals to the soldiers.”

It was at about that time that the soldiers who were gathered on the bank held their breath and started to watch what was going on.

“Indeed,” Odyne started speaking a second time, “Once, a certain person told me something. ‘Are you a slave who only lives according to somebody’s orders,’ he asked me. Even though it felt like he was slicing through my chest, national affairs are not so simple. Within Mephius, only the imperial family has the authority to decide things and to move the country.”

“…”

“They which they can see through is the whole world to us; and it is only their plans that have the authority to move the country, or in other words, to move us ordinary people. Both that world and that authority are essentially Mephius’ future. If we forcibly bring about a future other than the one His Majesty the Emperor has decided on, simply on the pretext that we dislike obeying this or that order, the politics of Mephius will end in failure. The dominion will be split in two or three, and even the peaceful life that the people are barely able to hold on to will disappear in flames.”

''What are they on about?'' Nabarl’s shoulders shook incessantly as he grew more and more irritated.

He needed to end this farce quickly and get back to the execution. Nabarl intended to send messengers to appeal directly to the emperor immediately afterwards. They would once more strike at Taúlia with their military might. Now, when the opponent was showing weakness by returning the captives, should be a good opportunity.

''Bah'' – there was no need to lend an ear any further. He was on the verge of raising his voice to send the Taúlian messenger away. And as he was doing so, that messenger said something that he could not let pass.

“So then. What if the future that the imperial family sees is misguided?”

“What!”

“What if the imperial family tried to force its authority down a path that was clearly wrong? Would you still obey like dogs? If you knew that Mephius would perish and its people would be cast to the flames, would you still slavishly work to implement that future?”

“Y-You bastard,” Nabarl was almost lightheaded from rage. “Somebody seize this fool! Tie him to a stake. Let the Taúlian savages on the other shore watch his execution!”

Rogue calmly held out an arm to stop the soldiers who suddenly started to spring into action. Then he spoke –

“At that time,” his voice was hoarse, “we would fight. If the future seen by old eyes is mistaken, we would usher in young eyes to view a new future.”

“Same,” Odyne nodded. “However, we are but small people. It is as I said earlier. We do not have the clairvoyance to see the distant future. It is the same regarding judging whether or not the future that His Majesty the Emperor sees is mistaken.”

“The emperor is mistaken.” The man said clearly.

It felt as though a soundless commotion was blowing like the wind across the entire area.

The sky was dimly blue, the clouds were light and low.

Nabarl had already passed beyond anger and was utterly dumbfounded. Next to him, Rogue asked –

“Why do you think so? How can you say that so surely? Do you have a tangible reason to say that His Majesty is currently mistaken? And can you prove it to us?”

“That –”

“Eei, enough, enough!” Nabarl shouted out as his emotions finally crossed the line. "Just how far is this stupidity going to go? If no one else will do it, I will. I will destroy with my own hands the fool who claims that our illustrious Majesty’s words are mistaken.”

His hand went to the sword at his waist that he was about to draw in a single movement.

For a moment, it seemed to those watching that a terrifically strong wind blew –

In actual fact, the wind remained calm.  However, everyone there had the illusion that the swords swung by Rogue and Odyne, that were now crossed in front of Nabarl, had summoned the wind from either side and that at the same time, that wind had swept back the man’s hood.

“T-This…” Nabarl’s eyeballs seemed to start out of their sockets as he suddenly found himself with two blades pressed at his throat. “What kind of behaviour is this? I’ve been thinking for a while that you were babbling nothing but nonsense, but did you bastards also cross over to Taúlia? So, you’re traitors to the imperial family and enemies of Mephius!”

“Take a good look, General Nabarl,” Rogue’s expression was that of someone who was swallowing down irrepressible emotions with a grim determination.

“What?”

“Take a close look with your own eyes at who you were about to point a sword at.”

Nabarl removed his gaze from the swords and turned it instead towards the man standing before him. The glimmering River Yunos shot countless darts of light into his eyes. Bordered by that gleam, the man’s face at first appeared as a dark shadow that he could not clearly make out.

When Nabarl’s eyes finally grew accustomed to the reflected light, his voice burst out in a shout –

“Ah!”

His sword fell to the ground with a loud clang.

“P-Prince…”

A name left his trembling lips.

“Crown Prince... Gil Mephius!”
 



That was the moment in which the crown prince, who was supposed to have lost his life in Apta, returned once more to life in Apta –

The moment in which Gil Mephius returned to the front stage of History.




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