Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter1 (section)

=== Part 3 ===

“So you were here, Orba.”

Roan suddenly showed his face.

Orba, who had been looking up at the night sky, rudely averted his eyes. As a punishment for neglecting to take care of the animals and play instead, his mother had taken away his supper, and now he was just outside the barn, sulking on his own. His face, as well as both knees he buried his face in, were full of scratches.

“Did you have another fight?”

“Not really.”

The quick-tempered Orba often quarreled with the other children in the neighborhood. Swinging around a wooden sword, he even went as far as the neighboring village to pick fights. The villagers that caught sight of his figure, almost falling forward as he raced through the fields, half-jokingly said,

“Oh, Orba’s doing his best again,” as they waved their hands and watched over him.
Of course, after having his fights, his mother scolded him to no end. 

“Why don’t you follow your brother’s example,” was what she would always say.

His older brother was able to do anything. In the old days, he looked through a single book their father brought back when coming from the city for several times, and from that alone he was able to memorize reading and writing letters by himself. He also learned how to do basic math at a very young age. Around the time he turned ten, after begging a merchant from the city to take him in as an assistant, he was also supporting his poor family’s living expenses.

Orba on the other hand, although he’d learned reading and writing letters from his older brother, was terrible at math, and above all, he didn’t know what to do with his boiling hot blood.

Almost every night, he spent sleepless hours staring at the ceiling. His blood was always screaming in the dark. After fist fights and such, the prickling pain of his injuries seemed to overflow with the hotter, more painful black blood from deeper inside, as if it would simply jump out into the open.

At those times, he’d jump to his feet and go outside. And he’d pick up his wooden sword that was leaning against the barn. No matter how many times it had been confiscated by his mother, he always made a new one from scratch. It wasn’t uncommon, either, for him to swing around his sword until the break of dawn.

“It’s okay if you get into fights,” Roan said, sitting down next to Orba. “But you have to help mother out properly. Working as a single woman is very hard. You know that too, right?”

Along the southern border of the Mephius Empire, was a place commonly known as Drought Valley. While a valley where the river had dried up was quite common terrain in Mephius, this poor village in barren lands, whose name was not even written down on any maps, was where Orba had grown up.

Orba didn’t have many memories of his father. He passed away when he was two or three. While he’d been engaged in additional construction work for the Apta Fortress that protected the border south of the village, his father had unluckily fallen victim to a cave-in while he’d been digging through the cliff. Cutting through the valley’s steep cliffs instead of creating houses or buildings was often the case in Mephius, and his father had been such a construction worker.

“Father was a man born only to dig a dark hole in the ground.”

He remembered that, one day, his mother had said those words in a tone that was neither complaining nor at grief. With that said, his mother too, was a person who had no pleasure in always working hard from morning till evening, every day. She ploughed the barren fields, sold native clothes and towels she made at the City of Apta once every month, and made the nearly tasteless stew for the young brothers every day without ever getting tired of it.

Orba too, also passed through life without change or color, with his only pleasure being when his brother came back home for a break, two or three times a month, and brought along many different books. 

Books written about the Old World where humankind once left its nest, books about Magic King Zodias, and, above all, historical novels with colorful illustrations or heroic stories, got Orba fully absorbed into them. Brave heroes swinging their swords to rescue a country full of dangers, beautiful maidens in thin clothes that were imprisoned in tall towers, vicious dragons revived from ancient ruins — things he’d never experience in a lifetime and the many dazzling adventures in those worlds made Orba engrossed, and whenever he closed a book, being back in that small, miserable reality surrounding him only made him despair.

He longed for the olden days, like the age where long sword-wielding barbarians were once kings. But the truth was, from the moment he was born, it was decided Orba would live his life sipping muddy waters, and if he wanted to do more in the future, it would be be much more difficult than bringing the dead back to life.

“You know, aniki<ref>Familiar/honorific way of saying ‘older brother’.</ref>,” Orba said, burying his head between his arm-wrapped knees. “I feel like doing something more.”

“You’re not even ten years old, are you? Worrying about such things doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m being serious. Look at all the adults here. Even I’ll become like that within another few years. Day after day, you work and work, but life won’t get any easier. I’ll marry someone sooner or later, a child gets born, and if the child’s an ‘unruly boy’ like me, one day he’ll surely say he wants to go to the city, be a soldier for Mephius, or ride a Garberan airship, and I’ll say something like, ‘Oh, in the old days, your father also held onto dreams like that’, and then I’ll probably laugh along with the other adults while drinking my tea.”

“Everyone’s like that,” Roan laughed, bathing in the pale moonlight.

Around this time, you could always hear singing voices coming from the house on the other side of the road. Listening to the cheerful voices of men who got drunk, although he wasn’t really paying attention, he said,

“Nobody knows what kind of person he’ll be. There are people who can’t live without working hard every day, people who sail over violent waves by boat, old philosophers who’ve buried themselves in thousand-year-old books, priests of Badyne who will preach their truth to numerous believers, many renowned generals who soar through the skies in dragonstone ships, and even country leaders who’ve subdued many territories at their feet. What they do in a day may be surprisingly different, whether they soak their swords with blood, drown in the letters of the alphabet, or even chant the name of God, but I think even they can’t provide you with an answer.”

“They don’t ever think about our living conditions. Even the king, who’s surrounded by luxuries I wouldn’t have the money for within a lifetime, and stuffing his stomach with delicious food every night. He sometimes takes a large army on a campaign, or gets shocked by betrayal, but every day he’s alive. I can’t even think of living such a life. I’ll never be able to. Neither the king nor the nobles, can even imagine what’s inside our dreams. Those people… Yes, take this night for example, they don’t even consider themselves to be looking up at the same moon as I am.”

“I wonder. It could be that, exactly because the king spends every day like that, he may sometimes feel a yearning to spending his life out in town. Maybe, to get away from the constraining life in the imperial court, he wants to go out to a sour-smelling bar sometimes and drown in cheap wine, listening to ridiculous stories, disgusted that, every day, he cannot relax his guard, not even for blood relatives. And he’ll probably think, ‘Ahh, wouldn’t it be easy to just go through life breaking a sweat', with no more worries about being targeted?’”
<!--Lit.: 汗水流して “spilling sweat”; I can’t think of a good translation. It’s like the opposite of ‘not breaking a sweat’.-->

“That’s just a delusion. You mean he’s yearning for a life like ours? Just because he doesn’t know the difficulties and insecurities of such a life, he’ll only think of it on a whim.”

“Exactly. Isn’t that what I said? There isn’t a human being anywhere who understands everything, knows what he really wants, or knows who he truly is. I think everybody longs for what they don’t know, what they have not experienced, and they’re also looking for wherever their true course may lie. In this sense, they’re no different from us.”

“I don’t know. Then, you mean even the king, even the great priest<!--坊さま monk or Buddhist priest-->, is someone who’s not completely satisfied?”

But when his brother was about to answer,

“Why are you talking about such difficult things?”

Suddenly Alice appeared, swaying her dark brown hair slightly. It was then that they noticed the singing voices from the house across had completely stopped. It looked like the girl had finally come to put them to sleep.

While she seemed to have overheard just a little, Alice showed a dimpled smile,

“In the end, it’s nothing but pointless stuff. In this world, no matter where you’re from, first of all, Orba, you have to start by taking care of your mother and work earnestly, so that you can get to eat tomorrow.”

“Hear that, aniki? When they’re not interested in the conversation, women immediately find it difficult, insignificant, or have more important things to do.”

“That, too, is the truth,” Roan laughed merrily.

Alice was two years younger than his brother and three years older than Orba. And when Orba was even younger, they played as if Alice was a sister among the three. 

Soon after, they enjoyed talking about memories of those days. When, by Alice’s suggestion, they went fishing at the river, and that same Alice nearly drowned as she slipped on the rocks. Or the time they went to see the caravan’s horses as it arrived at their village, and Orba got into trouble secretly trying to mount one, causing it to go berserk. Or when, because a boy from the nearby village said he ‘saw a wild dragon’, the three went to the rumoured place and got completely lost on the canyon’s intricate path. Although they finally did come home late, all three had to suffer though a good scolding…

“Anyway, wasn’t it because Doug from that village deceived us? Ever since that time, you’ve had a bad relationship, right? Even your opponent from today’s fight……”

“Shut it.”

The nail hitting him right on the head<!--I don’t know if this a proper use of the expression, but that’s basically what it says.-->, Orba turned away his face. Although the reason he picked a fight with Doug was all because of Alice, he never spoke of it.

However, as they laughed and reminisced together like that for the entire evening, it was the last time he spoke with his brother in peace.

In those days, the Imperial Dynasty of Mephius and the Kingdom of Garbera were already at war with each other. It was said the Garberan cavalry recently crossed their border, although the two countries had a history of repeated conflict for some time, concerning the very definition of that border. The southern Apta Fortress, which was close to Orba’s village, had also suffered from attacks by Garbera’s mounted troops on many occasions. 

Eventually, Garbera temporarily gave up on capturing Apta Fortress, and aimed for striking them by another route. And that was by setting up a trap. Targeting them when the majority of the troops stationed in Apta had been pulled back to the imperial capital, they immediately drove them into a siege.

Naturally, Apta Fortress was forced to a desperate, defensive battle. As it soon turned into holding out until the reinforcements came from the imperial capital, the Mephian army forcibly commandeered soldiers from the surrounding villages. And Orba’s older brother Roan was also one of them.

Of course, his mother screamed, crying. If there was only one hope his mother worked for within her nearly colorless life, it was probably his brother. Although she clung onto the soldier that tried to take away his brother, Roan gently placed a hand on her shoulder and said, 

“It’s okay. Help will come from the imperial capital soon enough, so be patient until then.”

Besides, the pay was much better than that of a merchant’s assistant, he added with a laugh.

Orba, standing next to Alice, was seeing him off, watching the backs of several of the village’s youths crossing over the layers of rock.<!--岩畳 ‘iwadatami’, basically a landscape of rocks piled on each other. I can’t think of a better English equivalent.-->

''If I were just a little bigger'', Orba thought. ''I could go to the fortress instead of my brother. Then, mother would not have to be so sad either, and I may even receive a distinguished service among the soldiers.''

After his brother disappeared, his mother, who had always been so devoted to work, spent almost entire days in prayer, as if something inside her completely snapped. Although she sometimes remembered to stand in the kitchen and prepare a meal, when it came to the menu, she acted as if his brother Roan was about to return from the city, making only his favorite food. But when she recalled that he wouldn’t be at the dining table after all, his mother threw it all away in the backyard.

Meanwhile, Orba ploughed the neglected fields, and also took care of their few animals on his own. During the evenings, Orba would climb up a narrow road carved into the cliffs and always stare at the direction of the imperial capital, looking for rows of gorgeous armors, vast dust clouds from military dragons during their march, and the majestic figures of dragonstone battleships – but he never saw the sight he was hoping for.

And, when about three weeks had passed since his brother left, residents from a village beyond the valley, which was closer to the fortress than theirs, were bounding in, out of breath.

“The fortress has fallen!”

They came with the worst news.

Apta Fortress had fallen before the approaching Garbera forces. They said the commanders and main staff who guarded the fortress had started on the escape, leaving their soldiers behind. There were no reinforcements from the imperial capital at Apta, for they’d been sent to the natural stronghold of Birac, next to the ravine further to the north. So it seemed the imperial capital had already decided that that would be the heart of the southern border’s line of defense. Apta had only been used to buy time.

And, concerning the land in between, the Garberan forces that were camped at the fortress, started ravaging the surrounding villages. There were acts of plunder and assault – raiding, so to speak.

The people of the village were in a hurry to gather their few belongings, although there was hardly any food with the harvest being near and they were limited to holding their own crops, and left the village in a rush. Those who had acquaintances in the vicinity hurried over there, while the people who did not, took a temporary refuge in the valley, until the Garberan soldiers left their village.

Obviously, Orba followed them, but in the midst of his escape, he noticed that his mother wasn’t around.

Startled out of his wits, Orba turned back to the village. Beyond the rocks towering over the area like hills, he could see the complete panorama of his village sinking behind the evening mists. Surely, she was still there. She was waiting for his brother to come back. For his brother, who may possibly never come back again.

“Orba, where are you going? Orba!”

As Alice’s voice called out behind him, he pushed the crowd aside and headed back in a hurry.

And when he managed to arrive at his destination, there wasn’t a single soul, the village had become as silent as death. Because he was familiar with the scenery, there was an eeriness as if he had wandered into another dimension instead.

From the other side of the valley, he could see a group of men and horses approaching, and Orba ran towards his house in a hurry. When he opened the back door, his mother was there. She was trying to prepare a meal as usual.

“Roan?” his mother said, turning around, but when her eyes fixed on Orba’s sweaty figure, she, miraculously, shrugged her shoulders. “Were you still playing, Orba? Just help me out a little, your brother will be coming home soon.”

Outside, sounds could slightly be heard of the voices of soldiers, chasing the animals that were left behind. Afraid of the smoke rising up, he hurriedly tried to stop his mother. However,

“What’s this, there’s nothing!”

“What a measly village. Even though those guys at Gascon had it better. It seemed they slept with all of the girls.”

“Isn’t there at least any alcohol? Go and look!”

As soon as he thought he heard those voices coming closer, the door was violently kicked down.

Three soldiers came in noisily, each of them equipped with a simple chain mail, lance, and sword. On their faces, blackened by dust clouds, only the eyes casted a unique white light. 

“Oh, there’s a woman!”

“What, isn’t she too old? Besides, isn’t there any alcohol? Or something to eat?”

After staring at his mother, who was protectively holding the crouched Orba in her hands, they started vandalizing the house, doing as they pleased. Orba was crouching down completely, concealing his breath like a herbivore trying not to attract the attention of wild beasts.

When the Garberan soldiers smashed through the door, his eyes had caught sight of the wooden sword, which had been resting against it, rolling over the floor. But in the end, it was nothing more than a child’s toy. He hated being told that more than anything, and was more than eager to stare back at those kind of people, but now he understood it painfully.

Then, as the soldiers were ransacking through to the shelves, they grabbed the crude ceramic tableware from inside and carelessly tossed them aside. Making a loud sound, the broken pieces scattered over the floor. It took Orba by surprise, as they were the things his brother Roan used, and his mother, who had been submissive until now, rose up with such force that Orba got pushed aside. From there, she started clinging onto one of the soldiers’ back.

“Hey, what? What?”

“It looks like she wants to play with me!”

A red-faced soldier unwrapped his mother, turned her around, and pushed her down in place. He placed his hand in front of her mouth when she tried to raise a piercing cry, then took out a pointed knife hidden inside his chain mail, and thrust it before his mother’s pale face.

“Stop it, you’d take any woman, wouldn’t you?”

“The taste of a young lass is nice, but an old flower like her ain’t bad either.”

As he spoke his red face showed a vulgar smile, and the thread holding Orba’s tensed up feelings snapped. Raising an awkward cry, he charged in. It was a desperate assault, however, and he was easily blown back by a single arm.

Knocking the back of his head against the shelves, although stunned for a moment, Orba gnashed his teeth and immediately faced forward again. And, from the top of the shelf, there was something that fell down with a loud crash. It was something long and narrow wrapped in a bundle and, with the front part of it torn, it was emitting a silver shine before Orba’s eyes.

''This is…''

Hiding it by reflex, Orba hurriedly tore apart the bundle. As he’d expected, it was a shortsword about sixty centimeters long. The round pommel had Mephian-made characteristics. Matching its slender blade, the handle was also a little thin, fitting nicely into a child’s hand.

As he took a hold of it, several letters carved into the blade jumped into his eyes.

''O, R, B, A...''

It was only for an instant – with his mother’s screams, the sound of the red-faced soldier disorderly throwing off his chain mail, and the noise of the soldiers laying waste to the house. Although the frightening surge of black blood boiled in his body, he drove it far away and, in that instant, the thoughts squeezed together guided him to an explanation.

The blade was engraved only with ‘Orba’. Of course, he hadn’t known such a thing was in his house. He didn’t think his mother or other acquaintances would’ve especially prepared it for him. For all he knew, couldn’t this be nothing but a present from his brother Roan?

But Roan should’ve handed over the money he got for his services to his mother. Besides, a blade like this could not be purchased in ordinary towns. Most likely, after going to Apta Fortress, he got provided with weapons as a soldier, and he’d asked the blacksmith stationed at the fort to engrave his name.

And then, he left it with the caravan that went circled the fortress and the towns. But when it arrived at his house, his mother must have accepted it. Thinking, afterwards, that it shouldn’t be crossed over into Orba’s hands, she most likely intended to keep it from her son’s sight. She probably thought that it was too dangerous for Orba, or maybe she was afraid that Orba would go away like Roan if he had a sword in hand.

At any rate…

“Hey, what’s that you’re holding?” a soldier called out from Orba’s crouched back. “It looks like you’re holding something valuable. Hey, why don’t you show me?”

“This is mine!”

“That’s not for you decide, but for me. Now, give it here.”

The soldier ridiculing Orba put a hand on his shoulder trying to get him out of the way with force. It was more than enough. 

''That’s right, Orba'', he responded to his own inner voice.

“I said, show me — gyahh!”

Turning around, Orba swung his sword downward. With blood spraying from the man’s shoulder, Orba slipped under the staggered soldier’s arm and raced towards the man who was bent over his mother.

The red-faced man tore his eyes away from his mother and jumped back. Quickly picking up his hand-axe, he then received Orba’s blow that was coming at him. Orba stood firm on both his legs and somehow tried to get his sword through, but still, the blade was short, and a child’s strength couldn’t push a hand-axe aside like that. However, instead of easily getting over matched, Orba made himself fall to the side.

“That brat…”

He swung down another blow with murderous intent. Orba rolled over to the side. After doing one rotation, the axe’s edge bit down there, right in front of his eyes. In that very instant, his blood froze up,

“Stop!”

His mother was clinging onto the red-faced man’s feet. Flying into a rage, the man kicked at her hands, turned around, and raised his axe even higher. When Orba saw it, the tension of his black blood – the anxiety, irritation, rage and other various emotions that had been simmering in the boy’s body for such a long time – was about to be released from one single point, as if it had only now taken its final shape.

He stood up. Holding his sword with both hands, he forced it under his arm and slammed it, along with the rest of his body, into the soldier’s defenseless back.

The man’s back, as he’d taken off his armor, first received the blade considerably easily. Then there was a little firm resistance, but it also went through smoothly as Orba’s pushed it through with both hands, until, in the blink of an eye, the point of his sword finally pierced through the man’s chest.

Because Orba was also being dragged while the red-faced man staggered, he hurriedly let go of the sword. The man clashed with his back against the wall. After turning around to face the triumphant Orba, he made his mouth flap open and close, probably trying to say some sort of grudge, and threw up a huge amount of blood as he sank to the floor, until his bright red tongue drooped out and he no longer moved.

“You bastard!” the soldier who had his shoulder cut shouted, grimacing in pain.

“You killed Douga. You lowly brat.”<!--Unsure about this part-->

The other also shouted in a loud voice, and came rushing over at Orba. No longer holding a sword, Orba received a full body blow and rolled over on the floor again. He got kicked in the stomach, and stepped on his back.

“Mother and child both, I’ll hang your heads under the eaves.”

Crawling on all fours, the tip of the sword was thrust before the nape of Orba’s neck. His mother too, was lifted up, twisted by the hand, and placed in the same position next to Orba. No matter how much he wrested his body with all his strength, he couldn’t get rid of the weight of the man standing on his back.

“Let me go!”

“Ahh, right away. After you’ve turned into a corpse, that is!”

Orba, raising a bestial cry, was suddenly hovering in the moment that came between life and death. With a whishing sound of wind being cut as it was brought straight down. Finally, he shouted out his brother Roan’s name, when,

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, the wind-cutting sound ceased. Orba, scrambled thoughts mulling in his head, realized it wasn’t his brother who’d appeared though.

The one who had newly come inside the house, was a Garberan soldier after all. However, unlike the soldiers that had broken in, he was armed all over his body, with not a single part untouched, and his armor too was shining in silver. He still had a young face.

For a short time the soldiers could be seen flinching from the intruder, but then,

“It is as you can see, Knight Apprentice Sir.”

“We’ve come to receive our fair reward after winning the battle. Just because you stood in distinguished service for a while, you’re clad as a knight after all, surely you haven’t come to stop such unrefined things like these, right?” the two explained grimly.

Feigning a courteous manner, there was clearly an air that they were making light of the man.

“Besides, look. Our comrade was killed. There’s no way soldiers with Garberan pride can let this go by without getting vengeance, right?”

The soldier who spoke tipped Orba’s body over at his foot, and established the sword’s aim with his other hand. What Orba’s eyes saw as he looked up at the ceiling, was the point of the sword, but then a single string of light came flashing from the side.

“What are you doing!” 

“How pitiable. Vengeance, is it? You mean to say there’s any pride in that against a child?”

The armored youth had drawn his sword. It seemed like the man had felled that one soldier, for Orba realized the sword that should’ve pierced through his heart had somehow been repelled the to the side. The other roared something in a hoarse voice nearby. It sounded like he’d called out the armored man’s name, but Orba didn’t catch it at the time.

“Y-Your comrade… how dare you, bastard!”

“I don’t want to be called a comrade or such by inferior people like you.”

As he thrust out the blooded tip of his sword, the soldier stepped back.

“Inferior, you say? Even though you’ve got the same history. Just because you were blessed with the opportunity to make a distinguished service, you get carried away. Always chanting, knight, knight as if it’s your favorite word, but did you become a real knight? You don’t share a bloodline with the Garberan royal family, you’ll be an ‘apprentice’ your whole life. Know your place!”

Soon, the solider who seemed to be stepping back, quickly pulled something out from behind his back and brought it in front of him. It was a crossbow, fixed with a long and slender pedestal, and he released the trigger. 

That instant, the armored youth nimbly turned aside. Making a single spin, as if dancing, he narrowly avoided the arrow and decapitated the soldier’s head. There wasn’t the slightest hesitation. The decapitated head whirled through the air, struck the house’s wall and rolled over the floor.

“Garbera is a country of knights. Instead of further defiling its name, receive the honor of being killed in action.”

His handsome looks, his way of fighting, and those words he murmured – it was all as if a hero had emerged from the books Orba read all the time. 

“Commander, what’s the commotion!?”

A voice was raised from the outside, but he replied with “It’s nothing,” as he wiped the blood from his sword.

“You’re a child of Mephius?”

Orba didn’t immediately know what was a good answer to the question raised. It was not that he was especially conscious of the name of the country called Mephius, either. The people of Orba’s village, generally living in a world of only about ten kilometers surrounding the village, weren’t very interested in the country or its territorial disputes.

The man gave Orba a thin smile when he gave no answer, and glanced over at the soldier who’d sunk in a puddle of blood. Orba, his body suddenly freezing up, tightly held onto his mother’s shoulders. He started looking if there was any weapon within reach, when,

“Hurry and get away from here,” the young man said. “It was to protect your mother – right? You truly hold the spirit of a knight inside of you. Much more than the people of Garbera, who seem to have forgotten all about the knight’s way. Now, you may get out of here. I’ll try to stop the plunder and assaults as much as possible, but I can’t catch a hold on all of them.”

Those eyes, for some reason, resembled those of his brother Roan. Supporting the shoulder of his sobbing mother, Orba slowly faced the back door, then, pulling his mother by the hand, he ran away at full speed. A wintry wind blowing through the streets after sunset, struck his cheeks. Urging his mother, who kept muttering ‘Roan, Roan’, sometimes even shouting at her, they finally united with Alice and the village people after an hour.

After that, they followed behind Alice’s father and headed for a village that was fifteen kilometers upriver to the north.

Orba didn’t know if the young armored man had been true to his words, but at least from there on the random plundering was no longer carried out around Apta, which later became the territory of Garbera.

However, the flames were still approaching the village that Orba and the rest had succeeded in running away to earlier.




There were hardly any signs. Suddenly, ‘they’ came at them in full force and immediately started plundering. They were men who were completely harnessed in black.  Provisions, clothes, and of course money and goods, all the things of possible value were taken by force. The people, too, were no exception. As soon as they arrived at the village they took the women, and impaled any man who tried to resist with spears from atop their horses, decapitated their heads with swords, and exposed them to gunfire.

Amidst all of the confusion, Orba lost sight of his mother. Just when he stumbled forward with impatience and fright, 

“Alice!”

He spotted Alice getting bound by a soldier with her arms behind her back. Even though she was about to be dragged away, Alice was still screaming at him to run away. Completely losing himself, Orba leapt forward. The feeling of killing that one person still remained in his hands. And now he’d decided to do the same thing. He reached out his hand for the sword the soldier was carrying.

But, the moment he took a hold of the handle, he received a strong blow to the back of his head. The sight flickered before his eyes, and his consciousness was soon about to fade. Just before it did, he had a feeling he heard Alice’s voice calling out his name.




When he came to, Orba was lying on his back, spread-eagled, on the ground. His head was throbbing painfully. His consciousness was still a little dim, and he wasn’t even sure if he was dreaming or not.

“General Oubary , what do you want to do?”

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard that voice. Amongst the screams of men and women nearby, and firing in the distance, Orba secretly peeked through half-opened eyes at the one who had been called out to earlier.

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v01 069.jpg|thumb]]
It was a man atop a horse, holding a bottle of liquor which he’d most likely stolen. He was lightly and stylishly dressed in armor, bald, and had the majestic air of a giant. Even though he had such an serious appearance, there was violet lipstick on his thin lips, giving the elevated, sneering figure a strange kind of look.

“If all the valuables are gone, set fire to the lot. Leave not a single grain of wheat behind for Garbera.”

Saying those words, the man called general threw away his bottle of wine. It splashed against Orba’s cheeks.

“Very well, this village was burned by Garbera. Let the soldiers be thorough. They can have the women, but kill them when they’re done with them. Don’t even sell them off. You will supervise.”

Shortly after that, the screams and shouts died out. Instead, a hot wind roasted his skin, and an acrid stench started filling the air. When he finally managed to stand up, his surroundings had turned into a sea of flames.

There wasn’t a single person left alive. Orba roamed about the village, calling his mother and Alice’s name in a loud voice, while brushing away sparks of fire at his hands. But the only things that came into his sight were the slaughtered bodies of the village people. The bodies of the elderly, women, and children.

''That Oubary…''

With the place scorched all over, Orba’s whole body had become dark red with the blood and soot falling from overhead.

''Isn’t that Oubary… Apta Fortress’s…''

He remembered hearing about it. When the fortress had urgently been recruiting soldiers, he was sure the military men that appeared in the village had spoken the name. He was the veteran general who had been entrusted with the protection of the fort.

So that meant this had been the Mephian army. After the fortress fell, the troops including Oubary went north, ahead of Garbera’s pursuing troops, and burned down the village where Orba and the others had escaped to earlier. And they’d taken all spoils of wars before going back to the capital, so that Garbera couldn’t make use of it.

''I’ll kill them'', Orba vowed.

Mustering up the strength from somewhere in his body, although there had not even been one drop left behind earlier, the power that kept him going forward, it came from his unrelenting vow with the intent to kill.

Although he had no clear answers on whether to kill Oubary, the Garberan soldiers, or the Emperor, and on how to achieve those ends, for now, he just kept on walking.


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===References and Translation Notes===
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