Editing Tytania:Volume 2 Chapter 4 (section)

=== III ===
About an hour later than scheduled, Count Elman Tytania arrived at the hotel. This was a different establishment from the one where Duke Zarlisch Tytania was staying. Had they been lodging together, Count Elman would undoubtedly have found the situation rather cramped.

Once settled in his room, Count Elman instructed his secretary, whose face was still flushed, to send a message of greeting to Duke Zarlisch. He had chosen to avoid a direct call of his own accord, but also out of consideration for Duke Zarlisch’s convenience. Duke Zarlisch was a man of passionate temperament and would surely have been displeased to have a formal call brought into his bedchamber.

“Count Elman? Ah, I do recall there was such a gentleman.”

Just as the Count had anticipated, Duke Zarlisch, who received the message in his bedchamber, had no greater awareness of him than that. Although the difference in rank between a duke and a count is merely the insertion of a marquis, a duke bearing the surname of Tytania was, in essence, a ruler of the universe, standing above all kings and emperors. In contrast, a count, taken to the extreme, existed solely to preserve the bloodline; the gulf between the two was as vast and deep as the distance between the Milky Way and other nebulae.

Zarlisch sent a formal letter of thanks to Count Elman, and with that, he forgot all about his kinsman on the same planet. He was preoccupied with another member of his clan: Idris Tytania. He was no mere count, but a Celestial being of equal standing to Zarlisch. A message of congratulations and advice arrived from Lord Jouslain; at the same time, information of unknown origin was also received, suggesting that Lord Idris was envious of Lord Zarlisch’s achievements.

“What can a mere child like Idris possibly do? Even Lord Jouslain surely isn’t at an age where he would concern himself with withered grass,” spat out Zarlisch.

Although he was only two years older than Idris, his appearance suggested an age difference of some ten years. Zarlisch, too, had consistently emphasised his seniority in his words and deeds. Although Zarlisch was one year younger than both Dukes Ariabert and Jouslain, he had grown a beard to bridge that gap and crafted his appearance so that, at first glance, he would appear older than them.

Observing these details, it became abundantly clear that Zarlisch had taken meticulous care to turn the delicate factor of age to his own advantage. It was likely that Zarlisch was a far more politically astute figure than either Ariabert or Jouslain realised. That said, he was fundamentally classified as a military leader, and the matter of growing a beard, for instance, was probably a tactic designed to intimidate rather than a matter of political strategy.

In any case, Zarlisch did not attach much importance to Jouslain’s communication. He was determined to become the most powerful being in Tytania, which meant becoming the greatest entity in the universe.

Although Zarlisch held Jouslain in some regard, it could not be said that he fully understood his elder blood relative’s true worth. However, the same was likely true of Jouslain. History was replete with countless examples showing that even those who share blood and genes did not necessarily share a spiritual bond.



Zarlisch was displeased, but his captive’s displeasure was also quite pronounced. Not only had his physical freedom been taken away, but his freedom of taste had been stripped from him as well. He had demanded to be fed a herb omelette, yet his request had never once been granted. Even now, all that lay before him was a cutlet made from gluten<ref name="ftn5">“Plant protein” (植物蛋白) is pronounced “gluten”.</ref>, a portion of frozen mixed vegetables, and a mysterious stew, the only certainty being that it was not made from stewed human flesh.

It was quite possible that tranquillisers had been slipped into his food. There was a very real possibility of it. Fan Hyulick was not, or at least should not have been the sort to give up so easily, yet even when devising an escape plan, his thoughts lacked any kind of cohesion. Whatever one might call intellectual stamina had clearly deserted him.

“I’m in a bit of a slump. Perhaps I’m lacking calcium,” he muttered, plunging a synthetic resin knife into the gluten cutlet.

He did so, then pretended to be deep in thought for about two and a half seconds. Then he tried moving the knife again, before finally flinging it aside and resorting to his fingertips like a caveman.

Just as he was about to continue, muttering under his breath about the cutlet’s heat, he suddenly stopped and stood up. “How can anyone eat this!” he roared, hurling the other plates and cups at the surveillance camera. “I’ll chuck this rubbish down the toilet,” he declared before grabbing the cutlet and dashing into the restroom. Three minutes later, when he emerged from the toilet, his face was deathly pale.

Fan Hyulick was vomiting violently. He tried to support himself by placing his hands on the table, but failed and knocked the tray over. The crockery and food still on the tray played a loud, discordant symphony. The surveillance camera captured the image of the prisoner sprawled on the floor, transmitting the footage to the optic nerves of the guard who had been sipping his coffee.

The guard was flustered. If this important prisoner were to die, he would be held accountable. He flung his coffee cup aside, but as he had already swallowed its entire contents, a minor flood was avoided.

“Fan Hyulick was poisoned.”

The four words “falling into a panic<ref name="ftn6">The “four words” refer to the fact that Japanese has four-character idioms largely inspired by Chinese. The expression used here, 周章狼狽 (litterally “confusion dismay”), is a four-word idiom that refers to being left completely flustered from fear by an unexpected situation.</ref>” swept through the hotel like a gale, and even His Grace the noble Duke Zarlisch Tytania, leapt to his feet, pushing aside the beautiful black-haired princess with whom he had been sharing his bed. A report had just come in suggesting that, while it had initially appeared Fan Hyulick had attempted suicide, he had in fact been poisoned by someone.

Hastily changing into his military uniform, he revealed his imposing figure before his terrified subordinates.

“Who ordered such a thing? Find the criminal who has committed this unnecessary act at once!”

In response to the Duke’s roar, the hotel’s resident physician stepped forward. This came as a surprise to everyone present.

“With all due respect, Your Grace, it was an order from your mother.”

As this was both a confession and an accusation, even the resolute Zarlisch fell silent for a moment, glaring at the medium-stature, frail-looking doctor.

“Don’t lie to me!”

“No, it is no lie. Your mother’s orders were to make a man named Fan Hyulick suffer without killing him. Therefore, it was not a lethal dose of poison, and there is no danger to Fan Hyulick’s life.”

Zarlisch’s thick eyebrows twitched. Just as he thought, ''“That’s exactly the sort of thing mother would do,”'' he found himself compelled to accept the man’s explanation. Calming his breathing, he finally gave voice to his suppressed anger and spat out the words:

“Very well, I understand. If you let Fan Hyulick die, you will have disobeyed my mother’s orders. At that time, as her son, I shall hold you accountable for your crime!”

Zarlisch struck out at the air with his massive fist. It was such a powerful blow that one might have thought the wind pressure alone would make people stagger.

Nothing about the situation pleased this imposing young nobleman. Turning his broad back on the cowering assembly, he stomped back to his bedchamber, his footsteps echoing across the marble floor.