Editing Tytania:Volume 5 Chapter 5 (section)

=== IV ===
Idris stood before the screen, staring in a daze. The hysterical voices of the reports reached his ears.

“The ''Black Prince'' has exploded…!”

“You don’t need to tell me!”

What burnt into Idris’ retinas were not images but words. The word “destruction”. The two-hundred-year history of Tytania, which had dominated the universe and reigned over humanity, was coming to an end in the most violent and pathetic manner possible.

The immense military might of the ''Black Prince'' and the ensuing catastrophe had become things of the past. However, the chaos continued to expand and multiply. On the battlefield, both friend and foe were so struck by shock that they forgot the combat right before their eyes; there were even sectors where the gunfire had ceased altogether.

In the residential district of Uraniborg, terror and panic overflowed amidst a complete lack of understanding. People collided with one another and came to blows. The warning shots fired by the security forces had long since lost their effectiveness, and horizontal volleys of tear gas and rubber bullets had begun. Blood flowed across the polished streets, the elderly and infants collapsed, trampled by citizens who had become like frenzied herbivores, and a torrent of screams filled the air.

Idris was being forced to make several decisions simultaneously. When he turned towards the communications officer, intending first to deal with the tragedy in the residential district, he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

The orange uniforms, somewhat excessive in their ornamentation with feathered military caps and gold braid, were those of the Clanner’s personal guard.

“Your Grace Idris, by order of His Clanner Highness, we must place you under arrest.”

“And the reason?”

“Treason against His Clanner Highness.”

“That is rather abstract.”

Facing the barrel of a gun, Idris was able to step back from a position that had nearly left him in a state of panic. Ironically, one could abandon both the battlefield and one’s home with equal ease.

“Is this about the ''Black Prince''?”

“Your Grace granted permission for the rebels to surrender. They have defied Baron Radmoth, who was commanded by His Clanner Highness to take command of the ''Black Prince''.”

A slight sneer curled Idris’ lips.

“And what did Radmoth then do? He trained the cannons on Uraniborg and threatened them to surrender. Is he not the true traitor? The crew members who detained him are loyal subjects. Far from being blamed, they deserve to be rewarded.”

“I have no desire to debate this further. Please, accompany us quietly.”

Idris rose from his command seat, calculating the number of gun barrels pointed at him. He remembered that Radmoth had been less than twenty years old and felt a flicker of something resembling pity stir in a corner of his heart. However, he had neither the will nor the time to dwell on it. His movements were swift.

“So, who is in command here now?”

A stiff response met his mocking question.

“That is for His Clanner Highness to decide.”

The officer who answered fell silent, the muzzle of a heatgun pressed against his throat. Idris held a gun in his left hand.

“Y-you cannot escape, Your Grace.”

“I thank you for the warning. Now, walk!”

Idris moved the muzzle to the captain’s left ear and stood behind him.

A violent passion raged within the young duke’s body, churning his organs and nerves as if even the position of his heart were shifting erratically. Nevertheless, Idris’ mind maintained an unnatural level of composure. Ignoring the standing soldiers with arrogance, he exited the command centre while keeping the muzzle pressed against the captain’s left ear. The moment the door closed behind him, Idris slammed the barrel of the heatgun against the back of the captain’s head.

Without sparing even a glance at the collapsing captain, he spun around and unleashed a thermal blast upon the door’s mechanism. The metal glowed red-hot and fused together, sealing the command centre. While far from a perfect seal, it should buy him some time.

Idris sprinted forward. The soldiers were struck with horror as they watched the young duke, whose hair was dishevelled and who ran without even a single attendant, his gun still gripped in his hand. They stood frozen under his ferocious gaze and scathing reprimand.

''Radmoth is undoubtedly dead. If survived that, he’s a monster. Is Zelpha alright? I’ll definitely come to save you, please wait.'' However, before that could happen, Idris himself had to survive.

In any case, Idris was a solitary fugitive. Despair often flickered its red tongue, mocking his struggles, but each time, Idris repelled it with everything he had. He would become the final victor, no matter what. To achieve that, what was the one thing he absolutely had to do?

''“I will kill the Clanner.”''

That resolve had already become unshakeable.

''“If I fail, it’s Jouslain who will do it. I won’t let him take the glory.”''

Suddenly, Idris was seized by a dreadful thought. The distrust, bewilderment, suspicion, and frustration he had cultivated over the past year merged, rapidly taking shape.

''“… Did the Clanner intend to kill all four of us from the very beginning?”''

If he thought of it that way, most of the contradictions and mysteries seemed to dissolve.

''“But, for what purpose?”''

He could go no further with his thoughts. Idris continued to creep step by step towards the private chambers of the Clanner, Ajman, running where he had to run and hiding where he had to hide, disabling several soldiers and a few surveillance cameras along his path.

Of course, it was impossible to render every soldier and surveillance camera “inactive”. His figure was exposed to numerous gazes, and the number of those pursuing him continued to grow. However, no order to shoot had been issued, and Idris’ movements did not cease.



The explosion of the ''Black Prince'', which had shaken even Uraniborg, had naturally not failed to engulf the ''Austra'' upon which Jouslain and his followers were travelling.

Jouslain stared at the main screen without a word. Both Fan Hyulick and Balamy staggered from the ship’s swaying, grasping at pillars and walls to barely avoid falling.

The massive battleship ''Black Prince'' had exploded in close proximity to Uraniborg. The distance to the outermost layer was perhaps one hundred metres at most. To the human eye, it looked as though they had collided.

An immense amount of light, heat, and shock energy battered Uraniborg like a storm. To the citizens, it was a hellish sight; sunlight was eclipsed by dark clouds, flashes of lightning streaked the sky, and fragments of meteors battered the firmament.

The ''Black Prince'' must have carried over ten thousand crew members. Had anyone managed to escape? Even if they had, it likely wouldn’t have been even one per cent. As Radmoth brought his own life to an end, he took ten thousand souls with him.

The fleets of both armies were shrouded in astonishment. For Jouslain’s side, it was the destruction of the enemy, but for the forces of Uraniborg, the situation was not so clear-cut. After all, the ''Black Prince'' had crushed allied ships as well, and, in its final moments, had turned its main guns toward Uraniborg.

One soldier slammed his helmet against the floor and screamed.

“Damn it, just tell us who is an ally and who is an enemy!”

It was the shared desire and the desperate prayer of all. The once clear, strong, and stable order of friend and foe, of harm and benefit, of good and evil, had collapsed, leaving them cast out into the void, drowning in anxiety and terror.

Even within the residential districts of Uraniborg, in those areas that remained relatively calm, an elderly woman hurried through the streets with a look of grim determination, her meagre assets stuffed into a bag and her precious granddaughter’s hand held tightly. At a nearby ''café'' terrace, an exhausted middle-aged man continued a solitary tarot reading, his expression shifting from despair to a sort of hollow enlightenment as he muttered to himself. Suddenly, an elderly man, pushed aside by the crowd, tumbled into him, overturning the table and sending the cards scattering across the ground.

On the bridge of the ''Austra'', Duke Jouslain Tytania was desperately racking his brains, his entire body drenched in a cold sweat. The frenzy unfolding within Uraniborg was vividly projected in his mind.

“Is there any way we might infiltrate Uraniborg?”

Ten million citizens and one million Tytania personnel. All crowded inside a half-destroyed floating city being trampled by chaos and disorder. This indicated that Tytania’s ability to govern Uraniborg had significantly deteriorated. Perhaps, by taking advantage of this chaos and disorder, an infiltration of Uraniborg might now be possible.

With the ferocious threat of the ''Black Prince'' having passed, the allies held the advantage in space combat. Jouslain steeled his resolve.