Editing Tytania:Volume 4 Chapter 8 (section)

=== IV ===
Unconditional surrender. Those words surfaced in the hearts of Ariabert and Jouslain simultaneously. The eyes of the boy standing there, seemingly struggling to suppress his tremors, were brimming with tears, which involuntarily evoked a sense of sympathy.

“… Had it been the second-generation Clanner, Nuri, he would have shown no mercy. He would have demanded Idris’ execution. Still, for a Clanner, he has made quite a concession.”

Jouslain had no intention of following Nuri’s example. Idris would likely spend the rest of his life as a mere figurehead marquis within the Tyron estate. It was possible that Clanner Ajman was keeping Idris alive only to trip up Ariabert or Jouslain in the future.

But even so…

Just as Jouslain gazed into the depths of his own heart and nearly grasped the tail of something festering within the darkness, he heard Zelpha’s voice:

“Lord Ariabert, if you would be so kind, let us shake hands in reconciliation.”

“With pleasure.”

Ariabert was moved by the boy’s earnestness. Holding the imperial decree, which Zelpha had returned to its original form after reading, in his left hand, he extended his right.

The hands met in a handshake. At that moment, Zelpha, along with the scroll, collided with Ariabert’s tall frame.

When the heat ray pierced through Ariabert’s chest to his back, not a single drop of blood escaped. Because the temperature of the heat ray was so high, the wound was cauterised instantly, preventing any outward bleeding.

However, massive internal haemorrhaging occurred. Scorching blood overflowed from his injured organs and seared blood vessels, surging in search of an exit. A crimson torrent erupted from Ariabert’s shapely nose and mouth, searing the mucous membranes of his throat in the process.

Yet, his intense agony did not last long. Casting a gaze filled with the stillness of death upon the boy, Ariabert closed both eyes, dropped to both knees upon the floor, and slowly fell upon his side.

“Witness the end of the traitor Ariabert, who persisted in his defiance against His Clanner Highness!”

Zelpha’s cry reverberated through the room like an intense death knell. In an instant, everything froze, and in an instant, it thawed.

Jouslain reached out with tremendous force, grabbed Zelpha’s wrist, and twisted it without mercy or restraint. A scream of agony escaped Zelpha’s lips.

Jouslain then drove his knee into the back of Zelpha’s knee, forcing the latter to buckle. While nearly crushing Zelpha, Jouslain cried out:

“Ariabert…!”

The young nobleman, though called by name, attempted to struggle amidst the heavy bloodshed, but his strength had already been lost. Captain Edna Fredericks, heedless of the eyes of others, knelt upon the floor and cradled his head, her face deathly pale.

“… My brother<ref name="ftn49">“My brother” (わが兄弟) is pronounced “my brother”.</ref>.”

Ariabert, his vocal cords scorched by boiling blood, could not have possibly produced a sound. Even so, Jouslain distinctly heard his voice. Jouslain violently shoved the too-young assassin aside and approached Ariabert with unsteady steps.

“Don’t die, Ariabert… Brother…”

Jouslain’s voice trembled violently. The young nobleman, who had often been praised for a coolness and detached rationality unbefitting his age, knelt on both knees beside the man who was his comrade, his cousin, and his half-brother, attempting to lift his upper body with trembling hands. He felt no vital sign whatsoever.

Balamy had the soldiers pin Zelpha down and examined the imperial scroll. When Balamy announced that the shaft was a heatgun of a unique shape made of carbon fibre, Jouslain interrogated the assassin with a voice that sounded like the dead:

“I trust you are prepared to atone for your crimes?”

To no one’s ears did that sound like anything other than a death sentence. Held down by the soldiers, Zelpha gasped.

“I have committed no crime. I merely executed a traitor.”

“It seems Idris’ teachings have taken root well.”

Jouslain’s gaze was so piercing that even an adult would have struggled to meet it. It felt as though a torrent of hellfire were being spewed forth from the gates of the underworld.

“Lord Jouslain! He is but a child!”

Francia leaned against Jouslain’s right arm. Jouslain did not attempt to shake her off, but instead stood before Zelpha as if half-dragging her along. With a voice as fiery as his gaze, he interrogated him:

“Do you feel no regret?”

“Regret?”

Zelpha attempted to laugh with everything he had.

“Ah, I do regret one thing. I should have shot Jouslain<ref name="ftn50">Zelpha actually says “I should have shot that guy first”, but “that guy” has the reading “Jouslain”.</ref> first.”

Balamy was rendered speechless by such sheer audacity. He thought that this boy might even surpass Idris. Jouslain smiled too, but it was a smile the likes of which Francia had never seen before.

“You mustn’t, Lord Jouslain, you mustn’t!”

Francia clung to Jouslain’s right arm with all her strength. She did not want the master whom she so dearly loved to become a child killer.

“Long live Idris, the next Clanner of Tytania!” shouted Zelpha.

It was a cry of pride, yet one that simultaneously incited murderous intent. Though Zelpha had not consciously intended it, the cry was little more than a declaration of an execution sentence against Idris.

“Are you that proud of having killed someone? Cut it out!” rebuked Balamy, while bitterly recalling his own past self.

Zelpha threw a defiant glare back at Balamy.

“If one is not of Tytania, one is not a human!”

There was no saving him. As Balamy became certain of the boy’s death, Jouslain groaned:

“Baronet, your actions, whose idea were them? Was it Idris?”

“No.”

“Then was it the Clanner?”

“It was my own idea.”

Jouslain shook his head with a sneer.

“Lord Jouslain.”

“Francia, make no mistake. I am of Tytania. I am neither a good person nor an ally of justice.”

Jouslain’s eyes were bloodshot. His capillaries had burst from the sheer intensity of his passion. As her master almost abandoned reason and intellect, Francia placed her hands upon his arm and supported him with all her might.

A strange, misplaced joy stirred within Francia’s heart. She could not help but feel a sense of guilt in the face of Ariabert’s misfortune, but at that moment, she certainly felt a sense of responsibility to support Jouslain, and she found joy in that feeling.

“Lord Jouslain, the screen…”

At Francia’s whisper, Jouslain turned an unusual gaze toward the screen. Having begun to operate without any warning, the screen showed static for two or three seconds before revealing the figure of the person responsible for sending the assassin.

Ajman did not utter a single word regarding the gruesome scene that had surely been imprinted upon his eyes.

''“With this, things have become fair.”''

From the abyss of nothingness, a wind imbued with magical power blew directly toward Jouslain.

''“You shall compete one-on-one against Lord Idris for the position of Clanner. I shall find great pleasure in seeing which of you triumphs and how.”''

“Ariabert…”

''“Lord Ariabert’s existence was redundant. He held significant importance as Lord Zarlisch’s worthy rival. However, with the death of Lord Zarlisch, a purely military confrontation of equal standing can no longer be expected.”''

Jouslain took a step towards the screen.

“Ariabert was the one who should have been the next Clanner. Ariabert was…”

''“You may have a million words to mourn the loss of Lord Ariabert, but did you have even a single word for Lord Zarlisch? Even if your mothers were different, I suppose that is simply how brothers are.”''

“…”

''“However, in any case, there can only be one supreme seat. My plan was to force you and Ariabert to kill one another, but you should consider it my small act of mercy that I did not proceed with it. If your opponent is Idris, your heart won’t ache even if you kill him. The same would apply to Idris; indeed, he would likely scheme with great joy to see you slain.”''

Hearing his brother’s name spoken so coldly, Zelpha stared at the screen in a daze.

“Clanner!” cried out Jouslain.

An invisible clot of blood was spat from his throat along with his voice. He would no longer use the respectful title “Your Highness<ref name="ftn51">“Your Highness” (殿下) is pronounced “Your Highness”.</ref>”. The arrogant figure occupying the screen before his eyes was nothing more than a monster who had murdered his brother and preyed upon human life, both in body and soul.

“No matter how much you play with sophistry, you murdered Ariabert. You even used a child as a tool! Did you truly think I would submissively act according to your designs!?”