Editing Tytania:Volume 5 Chapter 3 (section)

=== V ===
“The enemy forces are retreating.”

Upon receiving the report from the communications officer, Radmoth nodded. Watching this from beside him, Commodore Kendall, the ship’s captain, prepared himself for what felt less like an order from a young Tytania noble and more like a command for a manoeuvre. It was standard military doctrine to pursue a retreating enemy, destroy a greater number of vessels, and expand one’s achievements in battle. However, what emerged from Radmoth’s wide mouth was not an instruction to “charge with the entire fleet”, but rather a bored yawn.

“Alright, order all other vessels to pursue at full speed.”

“What?! Then, what of our ship?”

“Me? I’ve had enough. Let’s go home.”

Without so much as a glance at the speechless Commodore Kendall, Radmoth stretched his limbs out in the commander-in-chief’s seat.

Three minutes later, on the ''Austra'', the reconnaissance officer delivered a bewildered report.

“The ''Black Prince'' is not moving at all.”

“What?”

“Only the other vessels are pursuing us. The ''Black Prince'' has… has begun preparing to turn back!”

Jouslain’s staff officers erupted into a commotion.

“What is Baron Radmoth up to?”

“That can wait until later!” shouted Hyulick, almost half-deliriously.

To his own dismay, he had completely immersed himself in the mindset of a staff officer of Jouslain’s army. Regardless, the immediate enemy was that unpleasant Radmoth. He would not let the man win.

“Without the ''Black Prince'', we can employ a reverse encirclement tactic. Under the banner of Duke Ariabert, it should be possible. We shall retreat while sequentially forming an inverted V-shaped formation.”

Ariabert’s former subordinates exchanged glances. Fan Hyulick had always been their enemy, and they had been forced to taste defeat by him on two separate occasions. However, they could not bring themselves to believe he was attempting to deceive them now. Hyulick’s proposal was sound in terms of military logic, and his expression was one of pure earnestness.

“We shall adopt Mr&nbsp;Hyulick’s plan. We are all in the same boat, after all.”

With Jouslain’s words, the matter was decided.

An hour passed. Despite sustaining damage to the rear, Jouslain’s fleet succeeded in forming the inverted V-shaped formation as planned.

Meeting Jouslain’s gaze, Hyulick nodded with all his might.

“Now is the time.”

“All forces, turn about!”

Jouslain issued his command with sharp precision. It pleased him that there was no tremor in his voice. Indeed, he had the late Ariabert and the living Hyulick by his side. Jouslain was no mystic, yet he felt a primal certainty that his flanks were well protected.

As if commanded by the living Ariabert, Jouslain’s fleet turned with order and incredible speed, enveloping the forces of Uraniborg within the V-shaped formation in an instant.

“All ships, aim primary cannons individually. Triple volley!”

Thousands of energy beams wove a pattern of death through the darkness in hues of blue, white, and gold. Great and small fireballs lined up within the V-formation, scattering like the broken beads of a necklace. Deprived of the ''Black Prince'', the forces of Uraniborg fell victim to perfectly conventional tactics and were annihilated in nearly thirty minutes.

Jouslain extended his right hand.

“My thanks to you, Mr&nbsp;Hyulick. I owe you my life.”

“Oh, no, not at all. I went too far. Please forgive my presumption.”

As he shook the offered hand, Hyulick ran his other hand through his hair.

Balamy posed a question.

“What do you intend to do now?”

“Well, I believe that we should require rest and regrouping, but…”

“No, we shall not.”

With a flush rising to his cheeks, Balamy raised his objection resolutely.

“If we require rest and regrouping, then so does the enemy. Our forces have defeated the majority of theirs, and the morale of our soldiers is high. Conversely, the shock inflicted upon the enemy was immense, and as for Radmoth’s leadership, it is hardly worthy of the name.”

“Are you suggesting we charge Uraniborg as we are?”

As Jouslain tilted his head in confusion, Balamy’s gaze drifted to the side.

“Admiral Hyulick, what are your thoughts?”

Hyulick hesitated for a brief moment, but then he answered:

“I agree with the Viscount.”

Jouslain looked at both of them in turn and nodded with conviction.



Idris remained silent, but deep within his heart, a ferocious dragon was raging, spewing flames and roars. His reason, his intellect, and his discernment were all being bitten, wounded, and bled by that dragon.

It should have been Idris who should have boarded the ''Black Prince'', scattered the rebels, subdued them, and crushed them. It should have been Idris.

The military glory he deserved had been snatched away. A lava of hatred for Radmoth erupted from every part of Idris’ being, unseen by anyone.

Still, how had things ever come to this?

It was certainly true that he had underestimated Radmoth. However, he did not believe he had misjudged his very essence. He was a man who would not spare a single of his own allies if it meant striking the enemy. Should he ever ascend to the position of Clanner, he would undoubtedly become the worst tyrant in the history of Tytania.

From the perspective of Emperor Harsha&nbsp;VI of Vardana, Idris must surely be nothing more than a treasonous minister. Others, aside from Idris, might think it wouldn’t matter who became Clanner. Yet, that was only because they did not yet truly know the nature of Radmoth.

Ultimately, the use of tactics was intended to minimise the loss of one’s own troops on the battlefield. What Radmoth employed was not tactics. How could one call tactics “slaughtering friend and foe alike”?

Even so, it was a reality that Radmoth had surpassed Idris in the sole regard of “inflicting maximum damage upon the enemy”, and Idris’ displeasure went beyond expression. Had the ship ''Austra'' been among those enemy vessels caught in the blast, or had Jouslain met a sudden death, Idris would have been forced to question the very meaning of his own existence. Even so, one had to wonder how Radmoth had even conceived seizing the ''Black Prince'' with the Clanner’s decree.

Suddenly, Idris let out a groan that shimmered with a dark crimson hue.

''“Theodora! That damn vixen… She whispered sweet, cunning words into Radmoth’s ear.”''

The force with which he rose abruptly from his command seat caused the surrounding officers to instinctively recoil half a step. Idris, however, did not notice.

Once, Princess Lydia had witnessed Radmoth and Theodora in deep conversation. She had told Jouslain about it, but Idris, of course, had no way of knowing it.

Nevertheless, Idris connected the two images in his mind. Although the circumstances were entirely different from Jouslain’s, by blending various scenes and suspicions from his past with a primitive intuition, he had reached the very threshold of the truth.

“Is anyone there!?”

At Idris’ loud cry, about ten soldiers immediately gathered.

“Arrest and detain Countess Theodora at once, and bring her to me. Do it immediately. If she shows any sign of resistance or attempts to flee, you are authorised to shoot her dead.”

The soldiers gasped. A junior officer, clutching a photon rifle, hesitantly spoke up:

“W-with all due respect, are we truly permitted to shoot a noble bearing the Tytania surname without even a trial?”

“Don’t you dare spout such clever nonsense! Have you already forgotten the manner in which Duke Ariabert Tytania met his end just a moment ago? Now, get moving!”

The officer faltered, and after a perfunctory Tytania-style salute, he practically bolted away. The soldiers, weapons at the ready, followed suit.

Idris let out a breath and resettled himself in the command seat. Pressing his fingertips to his temple, he thought with as much speed as possible. If Theodora were brought in alive, he would ensure a thorough investigation. But what if she died? How would he justify that to the Clanner…?

“The ''Black Prince'' has returned to base!”

Startled by the communications officer’s voice, Idris looked up. For a mere moment, the screen appeared as nothing more than a curtain of darkness. This was because the massive silhouette of the ''Black Prince'', having closed in on Uraniborg, was obscuring the clusters of stars and the points of light from other vessels scattered behind it.

“Returned to base? What is the battle status?”

As if punctuating the end of Idris’ sentence,

''“To all stations on Uraniborg!”''

There had been no need to shout, yet Radmoth’s voice shook every communication circuit with the roar of thunder.

''“This is Baron Radmoth Tytania. I address everyone aboard Uraniborg. Surrender within the hour and transfer command to me. Otherwise, I shall bring the full broadside of the Black Prince to bear upon Uraniborg in a naval bombardment. Even if it means striking the civilian residential sectors. Do you get it? Do I need to repeat myself?”''

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