Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume9 Chapter6 (section)

=== Part 3 ===

The fall of Jozu Fortress was naturally not only a shock for Walt but also for the liberation army gathered in Birac.

''So the other side is making a move.''

Folker Baran had been taking his time to arrange the troop formation in part because he had been entertaining the faint hope that the enemy side might offer their surrender.

He knew that the emperor’s wish was for them to crush the enemy without delay, but it would have been far preferable if things could have ended without shedding the blood of fellow countrymen. Generals Rogue and Odyne would naturally agree with this. And so, Folker had intended to wait for a little while, but it seemed that the opening that had created had been made use of and that he had been forestalled. It was not Walt’s responsibility alone.

''However'' –  hastening their plan at this point would be the height of folly.

Jozu Fortress had undeniably been taken, but the enemy numbers still remained unchanged, and while they had gotten their hands on ether and a few small ships, this was not a serious blow for Folker’s side.

''Jozu and Apta – even if they use both strongholds, the distance between them is too great for tactical usage and they won’t want to divide their soldiers into even smaller forces. Which means they can’t use them to strategically restrain us either.''

Therefore, there was no great difference between the actions that Folker needed to take before, and those now that Jozu Fortress had fallen. For now, he would take his time and gradually corner the enemy psychologically.

Although, speaking of things that had changed a little from before –

“General Baran, the enemy is looking down on us!”

“If you give the order, my fleet can turn a fortress like Jozu into a sea of flames within a day.”

– With regards to calmly chiding the hot-blooded Zaas and Yuriah, his workload had increased.

At around noon on the day after Jozu was taken, Folker was meeting with the lord of Birac, Fedom. On top of making his periodical report, he also had a request for him.

“A letter?”

“Aye. A recommendation in your name that they surrender, Lord Aulin.”

It was one means of shaking up the adversary.

Fedom Aulin crossed his meaty arms. “It’s not that I don’t know either Rogue or Odyne. But…”

“But?”

“They openly defied His Majesty’s orders. Are they really the same amiable generals that I knew?”

Naturally, he was not saying that even the two commanders were impostors. Fedom long-windedly quoted several historical examples of people who had easily changed according to how the wind blew. Folker had a boring time of it. However – 

“Having said that, I can’t be seen to remain silent. Right, I’ll write it. It’s foolish to hope for those two to have a change of heart at this point, but it’d be good if the enemy could fall apart without our having to do much.”

Folker was able to achieve his aim for the time being.

Several hours later, a messenger started off for Apta carrying the letter.

''Right then, O Impostor Prince'' – Folker was known as man with nerves of steel. He hardly ever openly showed his emotions, especially when on the field of battle. ''First you took Apta, then you grabbed Jozu. What will your third action be? If we don’t make any move, the most you’ll be able to do, you bastard, is to fuss about on that narrow strip of land. Will you declare yourself king of that tiny domain and hold a coronation ceremony? Or will you line up your troops in Jozu and insist on meeting us in battle?''

Folker’s assessment was that the enemy did not have a main force. While they might have artillery power and air force strength, they were lacking in ground forces. With such an unreliable battle line-up, with what kind of method did they hope to pluck victory?

There was a part of him that was somewhat looking forward to seeing it.
 


The first thing Orba did after seizing Jozu Fortress was to secure the timber resources and to gather skilled carpenters. Kalgan was the administrative official in charge of both of these. 

And then, in a situation in which he did not know when the enemy might attack, he began construction on a new fort. Three kilometres east of Jozu, they cut down every tree in the area and used the timber from them to build fences to defend against the enemy cavalry as well as turrets in which riflemen could stand at the ready.

Orba himself focused intently on walking around Jozu Fortress’ interior and exterior. This was in order to firmly fix the terrain in his mind. Once he had gotten the information with his own feet, he would finetune his initial tactics, hammer them into the various commanding officers, and have the soldiers train exhaustively.

Every day, the soldiers were made to run while carrying their guns until they were completely exhausted. In a situation where the enemy might attack today or tomorrow, it had to be wondered if they would even be good for anything.

Orba visited each training session one by one and spoke up to them – 

“Go, go go. Use your whole body to see and hear. Move at the first sign. Those in front, know the way perfectly. You over there! If your shoulders are touching, you won’t be able to move properly in an emergency.”

Gil Mephius’ harsh words echoed wherever he went.

The riflemen wore no armour. Mobility was life. Orba would repeatedly yell at them that, “if you stop, you die!”

“Ah!”

While running along the passageway, one of the soldiers bumped into the wall with the grip of his gun and dropped it. As they were running at full speed in straight columns, he realised that he could not stop, and reluctantly carried on running, swept along with the group.

After all the members of the unit had passed, Orba picked up the gun.

“I-I am very sorry.”

The soldier returned and received the gun back from Orba on his knees. Orba viewed his noticeably pockmarked face.

“How old are you?” He asked.

“Yes, I, hum, I will be sixteen.”

“Been on the battlefield before?”

“T-This will, be the first time, for me.”

''I see'' –  Orba silently thought in response then tapped the child soldier on the shoulder. “Go back.”

As he galloped away, Orba watched him retreat and thought –  Roan was about the same age when he went to Apta. For whatever reason, he had a heavy feeling.

“You’re really working hard, I see.”

“I thought I told you to stay in bed.”

Shique had appeared. While waving his hand in a feminine gesture, he replied – 

“Your roars can be heard all over the place, so how am I supposed to sleep?”

“Didn’t I specifically tell you to go to Apta?”

“I remember, right before we first headed to Apta, you were trying to set up an airship unit and were roaring at young ‘uns in Solon too.”

“That’s right.”

Orba looked as though he hardly heard what was being said to him. ''Somehow or another, this is the first time I’ve seen him like this'' – thought Shique as he observed his irritated profile.

When they were in the west, even though his face was hidden by a mask or bandages, he had felt that now that the crown prince’s mask had been removed, Orba’s real, boyish face had been slowly starting to appear. When he had once again donned the crown prince’s persona, Shique had expected him to go back to how he had previously been, yet he was different from how he usually was before a battle.

His eyes showed that he was giving himself no space to relax.

Shique could guess that the upcoming war would be harsh, but looking back at his battles until now, he had been able to reverse situations where the conditions or military strength had been unfavourable before. Although he could not go so far as to assert that they would therefore win this time as well, Shique felt that was not the only reason that Orba currently seemed so tightly wound that he could not relax.

An airship having been made ready for him, Orba left Jozu Fortress and headed towards the newly constructed fort to the east. Because the local people called the area ‘the Forest of Tolinea’, it had been named ‘Tolinea Fort’. Apparently, in the old language, it referred to a bird with a short lifespan. No one knew why such an ominous name had remained.

Shique went along with him.

Orba summoned Kalgan and got a progress report from him. Construction was advancing more or less on schedule, but Orba was not happy with the fort’s current appearance.

“Although we won’t be stationing any soldiers here, don’t cut any corners in making it look more real than the real thing. Otherwise, we won’t be able to deceive the enemy.”

“A-Aye, aye!” Kalgan could only respectfully obey when talked to directly by the crown prince.

Hou Ran was also actively contributing to the work there. Dragons were responsible for transporting the quarried stone and cut timber, and she was briskly giving them instructions. The soldiers and labourers seemed to have been frightened at first at having them prowling in their vicinity, but by now, they were thoroughly used to it.

When Orba counted the number of dragons however, he asked Ran – 

“Can’t you bring out a few more?”

Hou Ran’s expression made it clear that she felt offended.

“Baians and Yunions are by nature unsuited for this kind of work. But since the obedient Houbans have large builds, they can’t move about in a forest. If I’m not good enough, hire another dragon handler.”

Just as Kalgan had been with him earlier, when told something by Ran, Orba could also only go along with it.

“…”

“What? Is there something stuck to my face?” Ran asked, looking displeased. Orba was staring fixedly at her as he remained silent.

''No'' –  he silently shook his head and left.

As she was watching him leave, Ran suddenly stood still and started touching her face all over.

After that, Orba went to thank the woodcutters and carpenters, the soldiers who had been rounded up to help with the manual labour, and the slaves for their work, then returned to Jozu Fortress.

“That really is a bad habit of yours,” Shique cut into Orba’s mind as they boarded the airship.

“What is?”

“When you start something, you try and keep everything about it in your sight and in your mind.”

“Obviously,” Orba said curtly. “If I didn’t, how could I take command during battle? If there’s an error in the preparation stage, the war will be lost before it even starts.”

“This is different from things on the level of a platoon or a company. Did you get so used to war in the west that you’ve forgotten what war is for a prince? There will be parts that your eyes cannot reach.”

“Then I’ll have to prevent that from happening.”

“Listen, Orba. You’re aiming to become the country’s crown prince. Are you saying that from now on, and when the time comes for you to shoulder the responsibility for Mephius, you’ll watch over the entire country all by yourself? You’re not a sorcerer, you only have two eyes. But watching what goes on around isn’t yours to do alone, they’ll be a huge number of other eyes. The talent to use them effectively is…”

While he was talking, Shique became fretful at the almost total lack of reaction.

Orba would always lend his ears when he was being reasoned with logically, but somehow, this time, it seemed that he had, from the start, no intention of listening. Or rather –

''His head is so full that he doesn’t have the leisure to take in anything more.''

Perhaps it was because he was convinced to the point of being menacing that ‘this is the way we have to win’, but as soon as they arrived at Jozu Fortress Orba was going to check the state of preparations from start to finish all over again.

''Oh well.''

This was not a good time to quarrel loudly. Shique gave up for the time being and decided to choose a time when there weren’t so many people around to talk to him about it again.

A deep sigh escaped from his lips as he came to that decision. Even he thought that always being the one to do nothing but worry was an unprofitable role. However, he also felt that – ''there’s no one apart from me to notice that sort of thing about him.''

Since those around him recognised that it was normal for Gil Mephius to be in a bad mood, they did not notice when there were slight variations from his usual self. And since Orba himself, of course, did not think that he was any different from usual, there needed to be somebody who accepted having gotten the short straw and who could squarely point things out to him.

''Honestly'' – he almost sighed again.

“Prince, prepare yourself.”

Just as he thought he had suddenly heard a voice coming from behind him, Orba lurched forward.

“Ow!”

When he looked to see what it was, a piece of wood fell to the ground. Realising it been hurled from behind, Orba and Shique both turned around, and thereupon opened their eyes wide. Orba’s hand had gone to his sword, but the one who stood there was a royal princess. In a posture that was evidently that of someone who had just thrown something.

“P-Princess,” Shique was the first to speak. “You came here?”

“I thought that I would like to take a look at the place that will become a battlefield.”

Recovering from his momentary surprise, Orba picked up the piece of wood with a displeased expression.

“…What’s this about?”

“It is because I was wondering if, right now, even I could strike you down, Prince.”

She nimbly caught the piece of wood that was tossed back at her, drawing a parabola as it went. With Theresia and Layla behind her, she then thrust it towards the ground like a sword.

“Since knowing that I had come here might have caused the Prince unnecessary concern, I was thinking of staying silent and observing, but hearing your foul language ringing out from all over the place, it was absolutely impossible to remain quiet and composed.”
[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v09 239.jpg|thumb]]
Her words were similar to Shique’s.

Having come from Apta, the princess was certainly not wearing a flight suit for piloting airships, however neither was she wearing a dress fit for Court. She had on a blouse with the barest amount of lace ornamenting the cuffs and collar, matched with a long skirt and with a wide belt tied firmly around her waist. Her high boots were the type favoured for horse-riding and a cloak for going out was draped at her back. Her hair was done up behind her head, so that the back of her slender white neck was completely exposed.

“Does the princess then go around beating men to death when she is not quiet and composed?”

“When the commanding officer is that irritable and, on top of that, does not even listen to what his retainers are saying, killing him may be best for all concerned.”

What surprised Shique was the fact that even though the princess was deliberately choosing provocative words, Orba’s expression did not turn unpleasant.

The princess puffed out her chest, “if it comes to that, it is fine to leave things to me. Shall I take command in your place, Prince? Put me on the bridge of the flagship and I will show you that I can encourage everyone far better than you can, Prince.”

“Earlier though, you said that you were going to leave everything to me, Princess. Also, this coming war is going to be more dangerous than previous ones.”

“Everyone will naturally be risking their lives. So of course I too should…”

“I said no!” Orba spoke sharply.

Vileena scowled huffily, as though to say – ''you can’t even understand a joke anymore?'' Then asked –

“What are you afraid of?”

In that moment, Shique was again taken aback. But it was a different kind of surprise than earlier. He gazed thoughtfully at Orba as he, looking as though he had lost interest in the conversation, disappeared off into the fortress.

Vileena had her hand on the upright stick as though it were the hilt of a sword and she was watching a defeated army retreat, but she murmured to herself –

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Well, that’s…” Theresia started wryly.

“That is to say…” Layla said.

They looked at each other.

“It’s just that,” Theresia cleared her throat, “you should not point out something like that in public. The Prince will be worried about his retainers looking down on him.”

“If he loses to a woman in an argument, he is not fit to command an army in the first place.”

“No, there are plenty of examples of brave generals who have intimidated armies twice the size of theirs, or of famous and peerless strategists who have driven away armies ten thousand strong with only a thousand men, but who would still bow their heads to their wives or lovers. For truly feminine ladies, it is enough to be careful about allowing gentlemen to throw their weight around in public while holding the reigns in private. Because that is not the kind of fight that can be ended by taking a life with a gun or a sword.”

Vileena looked dissatisfied but Shique could still feel the shock reverberating inside him.

''Right, he’s afraid.''

It was his first time seeing Orba’s true self.

Meanwhile –

''What was that, I’m not afraid.''

Even when he reached the inside of the fortress, the echoes of Vileena’s words had still not vanished from inside Orba’s mind.

''What could I still be afraid of at this point?''

When he was a gladiator, killing one another had been an everyday occurrence. After becoming the crown prince’s body-double, it was no longer enough to simply kill opponents; instead he found himself fighting in an arena that was in some ways far more dangerous, and where having his identity revealed would lead to losing his life. After becoming a mercenary, he had personally stood on battlefields were bullets flew and the clash of weapons never ceased.

Before a battle, you had to work out your strategy then just walk forward, filled with exultation.

Even though that was how it should be… so why was it that at this late stage, he felt that his steps were unsteady?

Feeling the impulse to scream something, anything, Orba firmly clamped his mouth shut.




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