Editing Tytania:Volume 2 Chapter 7 (section)

=== III ===
“Impossible…”

Fan Hyulick thought he heard Zarlisch groan. But was it actually a voice? It might have been a hallucination caused by a tiny sprite darting into his auditory field.

With his mouth half-open, Zarlisch’s expression frozen, he glared at Hyulick. No, to be precise, he was staring at the muzzle of the rifle in his enemy’s hand, which was now threatening him.

“Surrender, Duke Zarlisch!”

Hyulick issued his demand in a tone devoid of any personal flair. The moment he spoke the words, he realised his demand would not be accepted. Zarlisch, his eyes bloodshot as he continued to glare at Hyulick, stretched out his massive arm, intent on squeezing his throat, this time until he was dead.

Fan Hyulick pulled the trigger of his old-fashioned thermal rifle. The proud grey military uniform burst apart against the thick chest of Duke Zarlisch Tytania. Not confined to a single spot, five holes were pierced through the Tytanian nobleman’s massive torso in the blink of an eye.

It was not a deliberate act, but as the heat ray had been set to a low temperature, the wounds did not char; instead, they gushed forth as fountains of blood, staining the grey military uniform a crimson-black. The spatter also splattered onto the assailant’s own clothes, where the ruler’s noble blood painted bizarre patterns upon the rebel’s fabric. The sense of unreality intensified further when the blood-soaked giant stretched his powerful arm out almost horizontally and seized Hyulick by the collar.

Any ordinary person would long since have collapsed and ceased breathing. Yet in reality, thick fingers reeking of blood closed around Hyulick’s throat and began to squeeze. Hyulick’s finger remained on the trigger, and the muzzle pressed tightly against Zarlisch’s torso, continuing to fire deadly heat rays into his body.

His field of vision dimmed, and when it returned, Hyulick coughed softly and rubbed his sore throat. At his feet lay the corpse of the giant man who, mere seconds earlier, had been one of Tytania’s great nobles.

Dragging Walenkov and Pagès to their feet, and with the help of the others, Hyulick finally climbed out of the dangerous well of carbon dioxide. The woman in the sun visor handed him a water flask. As Hyulick, finally feeling human again, thanked her, she murmured:

“I never thought you’d kill Duke Zarlisch with your own hands…”

“I didn’t believe he was the sort of man who’d survive being captured. I’m not judging whether that’s right or wrong; it’s just that there are people like that, and I don’t have the capacity to change the way they live or think.”

Hyulick fell silent. He felt he had spoken too much in the presence of the dead. The woman stared at his face as she put the lid back on the water bottle.

“So Zarlisch Tytania is dead, huh?…”

Doctor Lee’s voice, as he confirmed the fact, reached Hyulick’s auditory nerves with a sound that was incredibly distant and impersonal.

Zarlisch could never have imagined he would meet such an end in a place like this. He must surely have believed that a more spectacular and heroic death awaited him, one more befitting him. One of the Four Dukes of Tytania, a man who prided himself on being the mightiest commander in the cosmos, had ended up lying dead on a remote planet, no less, beneath the barren wilderness. It was hard to imagine a more unwelcome way to die.

“If he’d been killed by an opponent weaker than himself, he’d surely want to come back as a ghost one day.”

Hyulick replied to Doctor Lee and stood up. He still felt tired and drained, but his headache had gone.

In one corner of the cave, a group of captured Tytanian soldiers in uniform stood huddled together. From among the two hundred or so men, Hyulick and Doctor Lee selected a figure who appeared to be an officer and asked his name.

“I’m Commander Granite. I served as Lord Zarlisch’s ''aide-de-camp''.”

As he spoke in the past tense, a shadow of anguish silently swept across the officer’s face. Hyulick and Doctor Lee exchanged glances and conferred briefly.

Doctor Lee addressed the late lord’s ''aide-de-camp''.

“We shall hand over your master’s remains. It would be fitting for them to be transported to your headquarters and given a proper burial.”

“Are you asking me to bring shame upon myself and live?”

“To live is, in itself, to heap shame upon oneself. If you believe it is less shameful to leave your master’s remains abandoned in a place like this, then do as you please. Flee or take your own life.”

Having dismissed him, Doctor Lee ordered the prisoners to stand up. They simply did not have the financial means to support them. Having escorted the prisoners who were crushed by a sense of defeat and now disarmed to the entrance of the underground cavern, Doctor Lee asked Hyulick:

“Do you think the Bargash government is now fully on our side?”

“If we go by the logic that the enemy of my enemy is my friend…”

Before he could finish, Fan Hyulick realised a new danger was looming. If the Bargash government were to attempt to make up for its military failure through diplomacy, there would be only one option: to crush Hyulick and his men with their own hands. There was no other way to appease Tytania’s wrath.

Hyulick and his men had dragged the Bargash government into the conflict with Tytania, but this might well result in them gaining more enemies rather than allies. That said, having already made Tytania their enemy, even if their number of foes increased, they had long since exceeded their capacity to cope. Worrying about it was nothing but a waste of mental energy.

By this time, the outcome of the aerial battle had also been decided. The Tytanian fleet had begun a disgraceful rout. Having exposed the weakness of a private militia that relied on individual prowess, and having been reduced to half their numbers, the Tytanians had fled. The night air was thick with the stench of death, and on the ground, the wreckage of downed vessels still blazed with orange flames.

Floating in the night as the enemy vanished, Rear-Admiral Turbil and Lieutenant-Commander Irk exchanged stunned glances.

“We’ve done it.”

“Yeah, we’ve gone and done it.”

The two looked at one another and let out a deep sigh in unison. With that, the rationality that had been banished from their minds returned, and Lieutenant-Commander Irk, acting on his commander’s instructions, ordered all ships to land and begin assessing the damage.

“Does this mean we’re heading for all-out war with Tytania?”

“Probably. If so, I’ll be a shining example of an A-class war criminal. I suppose I’d better write my will while I still can.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic.”

Lieutenant-Commander Irk vigorously brushed back the fringe that was clinging to his sweat-drenched forehead.

“At this point, we have no choice but to rally not only the Bargash government but all anti-Tytania factions across the universe to face Tytania in a decisive battle. Otherwise, all that awaits us is execution or a flight that will end in death. Shall we take a gamble on whether we can overthrow Tytania?”

“You’re quite the radical yourself, aren’t you?” remarked the exasperated old admiral.

Having cast his own concerns aside, the ''aide-de-camp'' shrugged with a wry smile.

“I’ve already eaten the plate. At this rate, I’ll have no choice but to gnaw on the table next<ref name="ftn17">This is a variation on the Japanese expression “if one is eating poison, one might as well eat the plate with it” (毒食わば皿まで), which is roughly the equivalent of “in for a penny, in for a pound”.</ref>.”

He made no attempt to comment on the taste or nutritional value of the table.

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