Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume2 Chapter7

==Chapter 7: Empty Verdict==
===Part 1===
Over thirty swords and guns took aim at the Mephian statesmen. The nobles turned pale, and even the commanders were left momentarily speechless in the face of the silent, murderous intent directed towards them. The guards responsible for protecting the stadium tried to rush them.

“Don’t move!” A voice from amongst the soldiers brought them to a sudden halt.
“Not a single one of you move! Take even one step, and we’ll start shooting one by one!”

With the target of the threat being Mephius' central figures, they were rendered impotent.


“Y-Your majesty...”

The Emperor brushed aside the arm of Empress Melissa, who had tried to restrain him, and stood.

“Identify yourselves!” Guhl Mephius declared, his white beard trembling in rage. “On whose order is this? Do you fools understand who you’re pointing your guns at?!”

However, these men who wore helmets over their eyes, did not even flinch at his thunderous roar. He was aware that their equipment came from Mephius, but they bore no crests nor carried any sort of war flag that may have disclosed their origins. It was impossible to tell whose subordinates they were, or if they possibly belonged to a completely separate power that had stolen the equipment from Mephius.

“Tch!”

Commander Rogue Saian's hand gripped the pommel of the sword at his waist, but there was nothing he could do in this situation. The young Romus clung to his leg. He hugged the boy’s shoulders, and muttered “I’ve blundered,” repeatedly to himself.

“I will not have you come any closer to the princess, you ruffians!”

“Theresia, stand back.”

Her mistress, Vileena, was of course also present in the midst of this insurgence. A cold sweat ran down Vileena’s whole body but she kept constant watch in all directions.

Her composure made the nobles’ trembling stand out like a sore thumb. Having no means to protect themselves, some had left their seats while some had cowered at the sight of the guns. Others, their bodies frozen in fear, had absentmindedly called on the names of their retainers; hoping that this was nothing more than a bad dream.

''So '''this''' is what the current Mephius amounts to.''

Only a single person, Zaat Quark, found himself submerged in a torrent of satisfaction, and alternately, one of despondency.

''Unaware that they have been cornered by Noue and Oubary’s artifice, I, who have brought them up to where they are now, can, with a single swing of my blade, have them surrender this easily. '''This''' is the current Mephius.''

Zaat swallowed his laugh with difficulty. The Garrison flagship had been a hurriedly prepared substitute. He had stolen his own troops aboard the ship with the order to seize control of the ship immediately after receiving notice of the rebellion.

The next step would be for him to stand up and step out of the encirclement. At that time, the Emperor and his foolish retainers would finally realize who it was that dared to point his sword at them, and who it was that held their lives in his hands.

And he would declare himself to be the one to lead Mephius.
 
Of them all, the majority would no doubt choose to be his ally. He had been dissatisfied with the emperor from the beginning and only pretended to be a loyal retainer so that he could one day do this.

''They never had the talent to flatter the emperor. They’re the same as wild beasts that obey the strong.''

Dissenters were to be imprisoned. Of course, the emperor and his family were no exception.

''What face would Guhl Mephius make?'' The mere thought sent Zaat trembling in excitement. This time, he would be the one to stand over that old man who disregarded the thoughts of others.

Zaat, at the peak of his pride, raised his back at long last. He tread that first step towards creating a new country.

But, before he could even finish that step, his hands were forcefully detained.

“What are you—” he began, but was interrupted by the pressing of a dagger's tip against his neck.

To those present, it appeared as though an insurgent had captured Zaat in his attempt to escape. 

Ineli and some others near him fumbled out of their seats with cries. 
Only Vileena's face showed recognition: the one who had stopped Zaat’s movements was the beautiful slave girl she had seen before.

''Is she also a part of this?'' Vileena thought. 

Zaat also thought the same thing.

“What are you doing?!” He confusedly whispered in a small voice. “Aren’t you a slave who also knows about the plan?! The soldiers here, the whole lot of them, are my—”

“That’s ''exactly'' the thing.”

The slave's disrespectful tone caused Zaat to go wide-eyed. 
That voice did not belong to a woman. The force detaining his hands also did not belong to that of a frail woman. And as the slave continued to point his dagger at Zaat, of all persons, he spoke with a clear, resounding voice.

“Gathered ladies and gentlemen, I am sorry to say that there is something I must inform you of in the midst of this crisis; and for that I beg your forgiveness. However, I am convinced that this is something that would tickle the interest of all you ladies and gentlemen. For of the mastermind who staged this rebellion, and who would hold such misgivings—I shall try to provide those answers to you.”

“What?!” Zaat shouted, as dumbfounded as everyone else. 

Finally, Vileena alone noticed the slave's true identity: the clean cut, a charming gaze, a thin nose bridge and such good looks that it was no surprise that he would be mistaken for a woman-

“It can’t be...Shique? Of the prince’s imperial guards...?”

The slave dressed as a girl winked at her.


“The imperial guards, you say?!” Rogue Saian spat out.
“B-But your actions can be seen as nothing more than supporting the rebellion. Who’s the mastermind? Go ahead and say it!”

“Do you not understand? Just now, I was in the middle of presenting that to you fair ladies and fine gentlemen.”

Despite having been found out as a man, Shique flashed a bewitching smile. “Ah,” Rogue and Simon both responded, dumbstruck. 

With the dagger still pressed against Zaat’s neck, he used the noble as a shield and turned to face the soldiers.

“It is as you see. Now, what will you do, Mr. Soldiers-who-just-landed-from-the-sky? Why haven’t you lot taken a single step for some time now? Do you worry for Zaat-dono’s life? Why is it that amongst His Imperial Majesty and the mass majority of the statesmen you’ve restrained within your sights, he alone is not among them?”

It was as Shique had mentioned. As the soldiers faces were all covered, their expressions were unreadable, but it was clear from their behaviour that they were trembling.

And at this time, on the other side of the arena below, a riot was occurring.

At roughly the same time as the soldiers had landed from the air carrier, several men had tried to climb the watchtower there. They had, until then, posed as security guards and hidden their real identities. However, as they tried to move according to plan, an obstacle had suddenly barred their path.

''It seems a certain someone made the right choice.''

Shique muttered, and sent a fleeting glance towards Vileena.

''They were likely planning to make use of the confusion, knock down the guards, and snipe down the princess.''

But because a certain someone had anticipated it, the ‘plan’ had been obstructed. This was in fact, done by the imperial guards who disguised themselves as slaves and were deployed into the surrounding area. The snipers, taken by surprise, offered no forms of resistance and were all apprehended.

Taking notice of the signal, Shique broke into a deep smile.

“This makes it a stalemate now, doesn’t it?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean. Unhand me, slave! How long will the likes of you continue to touch me?! The likes of you are much more suspect to be the mastermind.”

“You’re contradicting yourself, Zaat-dono. There’s no way the likes of a slave could be the mastermind. Why do you think they haven’t moved for the longest time now? Come, feel free to shoot the both of us together.”

As Shique made a step forward, they nervously took a step back. Everyone within the arena now watched him. The citizens who were previously in a panic came to a halt, and the grand nobles who once lost their wits also shifted their attention towards him, unable to tear their eyes away.

Zaat’s mind was now beginning to wander, and just before he lost all hold of himself, he suddenly remembered there was one final hope left and formed a grin.

“Damned fool. You said you were an Imperial Guard, I believe? All the more reason that there’s no way you can sit back and let him be killed, can you? That blundering idiot of a crown prince that was caught by the slaves, that is!”

With Prince Gil still captured by the slaves in the arena, it was only natural that this would prevent Shique from moving recklessly.

Everyone’s attention turned to the arena, as Zaat chortled.

“If you understand, then unhand me, you filthy mongrel!”

Shique, however, did not waver.

“So he says, my prince,” he called out.

At that point, Zaat’s eyes came across an unimaginable sight. The rope that should have tightly bound the prince’s hands easily slipped off and dropped to his feet. The prince walked forward towards him. None of the slaves tried to stop him.

“You bastard.”

The only reaction he saw was that of Pashir tightly clenching his teeth. No, the slaves were sending glares filled with animosity and hatred towards the prince, even if they had not moved a single step.

Gil—Orba, aware of this, felt bitter.

His being taken hostage by the sword slaves had been a ploy from the start. Naturally, the one to order this was Orba himself. Orba had taken the young slave girl of the detention camp loved by all the slaves, Mira, hostage in order to confront them.

His blood had run cold when he had been discovered together with Kain, but even the strong-armed Pashir had been unable to fight back with Mira being used a shield. He had Kain thrust his gun at the young girl, made mention that he had ‘heard the entire plan from Orba’, and contained the slaves’ movements. With their plan exposed by the imperials, their resolution to fight to the death crumbled. The slaves collapsed on their knees in despair.

Only Pashir continued to stare at the prince with a gaze so intense, that if a gaze could kill someone, it wouldn’t have been enough for Orba no matter how many lives he had. And how he shared this sentiment within. Orba pushed down his own feelings in spite of himself whilst seized by this gaze.

This alone would have been enough to put a stop to the slaves’ rebellion, but it was not enough to corner the enemy. The plan needed to be drawn out to its second phase at all costs, and thus, he wanted a situation where a rebellion would occur.

However, if the rebellion were to actually take place, the damage would be great. An uprising without a single death easily came to him—one where the vital point required for Gil Mephius to be captured by them.

“You’ve gone and said it, Zaat,” Orba boomed as the arena began to quieten. “How you tried to use them, and how you yourself participated in the uprising. Now it’s clear as day that you’re the mastermind behind it.”

Zaat’s face flushed a deep red.

“Is that true, Zaat?”

Simon Rodloom stood up and shot in a pained voice.

“Is it really true that you planned this rebellion?”

Zaat turned his head away. He did not want to see the anger, despair, and pity in Simon’s eyes.

Emperor Guhl, Empress Melissa, the Mephian statesmen—everyone wordlessly watched Zaat and the imperial guard who held a sword against him. An uncanny silence befell them. Orba, without any indication of pride at his accomplishment, looked up indifferently. He did not notice the shadow slowly approaching his back.

“Prince!”

The first to perceive this was Vileena. 	

Orba quickly turned around, and caught sight of a single slave behind him delivering a slash. He quickly twisted his body and narrowly dodged it, but immediately fell on his knees. It was natural that his body did not catch up to his thoughts, considering the damage his body had accumulated in the previous battles.

With a twisted expression, the slave attacked again. From his side, an arm fell down on him like a gale and grabbed him. It was Pashir. Without giving the man any time to struggle, he threw the man down onto the ground with tremendous force and pinned him down.

“You bastard. Are you going to let Mira die?”

Pashir said, his body trembling with anger. And then he made a scowl.

“Of course. You were the one who told me about the plan. Then that also makes you the one who hid the fact you were conspiring with that noble from us. You planned to have us walk to our deaths and make use of that, didn’t you?!”

The man looked up at Orba, his eyes on fire, when suddenly he spurt out blood from his mouth. His body convulsed, twice, thrice, and shortly after, he died. He had swallowed poison. The snipers the imperial guards had captured also met the same fate at that moment.

In this instant, like a cornered beast, Zaat made his final act of resistance. As Shique was distracted by the ongoings in the arena, Zaat suddenly pushed him off, pulled the hand of the nearby Ineli, and used her as a shield.

Ineli didn’t even have time to scream. With suddenly swift movements as if he had broken out of a trance, he boarded an airship under the directions of his soldiers.

“H-Help!”

Ineli stretched out her hands. But the nearby Baton did nothing but back away with his tail behind his legs. Zaat forced the struggling Ineli into the airship, and continued to soar up into the skies before their eyes.

“Help me!”

Her cries grew distant. “Help me, mother!”

Zaat’s soldiers rose up into the sky one after the other. There was an air carrier ahead of them.

===Part 2===
Orba quickly stood up and immediately assembled his imperial guards. He hurled orders at them. He left a few to survey the slaves, and had the rest chase them by airship. He had prepared an airship unit in case Zaat resisted even with Shique pointing his sword at him.

At this time, Pashir closely observed Orba—or to him, Prince Gil. In such an upset, he handed down orders rapidly in succession without any hesitation. The one who skilfully threw the sword at him in the previous gladiator game; the one who made Orba sneak in amongst them to gather information…

''This brat...''

He hated him enough that he wouldn’t be satisfied even if he killed him ten times, but on the other hand, he could feel himself hold Gil Mephius in a bit of awe.

The Imperial Guard’s airships took off one by one, but the bow of the airships piloted by Zaat’s subordinates turned around to intercept those on their tail. Orba’s airship unit comprised of those experienced in flying, but their number of allotted ships were few, nor could they be said to have gone through official training. They were blocked by a handful of ships and were unable to chase the ship steered under Zaat’s poor handling.

“Aren’t there any other ships?!”

Orba turned left and right, asking a soldier he grabbed, but there were no airships here at the arena, as they weren’t handy to have around. Of course, a new garrison of dragonstone ships were being readied at this moment, but if Zaat reached the flagship before they rescued Ineli, they would not be able to lay a hand on Zaat

''Damn you Zaat, for uselessly resisting.''

Orba wanted to capture Zaat alive by all means possible. Then he could make Zaat spill out the names of all the people involved in the plan.

“Damnit!”

Then, an airship landed to a stop beside Orba just as he cried out. Someone had managed to get one. “Good,” Orba said, a smile spreading across his face, and when he looked over, he went wide-eyed for an instant.

“Aren’t you going?”

It was Vileena.

She heard the prince’s cry, and personally strapped herself onto an airship—used to move the envoys to safety—that had just come back to board the nobles. Turning a deaf ear to any attempts to stop her, she turned on the ether engine and made haste to Orba.

She hovered the airship just above the ground, and quickly bundled her hair.

Orba was about to be begin to say something, but was quickly urged on by her gaze and nodded back.

“Of course.”

This was no time to argue.

Orba strapped himself in the back, and Vileena took off without a second’s delay. The hum of the ether engine beat like the chattering of teeth and the ship, taking on the appearance of a wyvern, rose, gradually gaining speed.

“Did you make…”

“Huh?”

“Did you make Orba participate in the tournament for this?”

For an instant, Orba was unable to hide his unease at having his own name brought up.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Why did you not tell me this earlier? You must have been laughing at me throw my childish tantrum in a fit.”

“O-Of course I wasn’t.”

“Then why?...Do you not believe you can confide in me as your future wife yet? Do you still suspect me to be a Garberan assassin?”

''Women.''

Why was it that even at times like these that they could take priority over their own circumstances? Even as the roar of the wind whooshed past them and the airships they passed continued to open fire. Then, an enemy ship noticed them and began to descend.

“More importantly, they’re coming!”

“I know that. I’d prefer if you didn’t look down on me.”

Vileena huffed, and swerved the ship left with all her strength. Orba, who felt as if he was going to fall off, hurriedly grabbed the edge of the cockpit. The sound of gunfire directly below the ship whizzed past them.

“I may have forgotten to mention it,” Vileena said calmly as her eyes were fixed to the front, “but as a word of caution, this will ''not'' be a smooth ride.”

''This bitch.''

Orba was instinctively about to shower her in insults from his childhood days, but held himself back. Instead, he seized the gun mounted on the rear of the ship and fired off a warning shot at the ship that just flew past them and was beginning to turn around. The orange trail of the bullet bent like a whip below him.

“Wait. Could you not shoot please? It gets in the way of flying.”

“But…”

“The air is my domain.”

Even as she said this, Vileena continued to splendidly dodge the return fire. While Orba was assaulted countlessly by a chilling sensation, Vileena slipped past the enemy ships trying to spread out into a defensive formation and caught up right behind the air ship Zaat piloted.

''Impressive.''

Orba was amazed at the princess’ manoeuvring skills. She would make a promising airship instructor for the Imperial Guards.

The garrison flagship came closer, blocking the sunlight and darkening the view in front of him. And with little pause, it lined up with Zaat’s ship and opened its hatch, where Zaat jumped in.

Vileena pedalled the airship to a crawl. Orba, not stopping, jumped down and tried to run over to Zaat.

“Don’t come any closer!”

Zaat had also jumped down and landed with a roll while holding Ineli by the shoulders, but he did not forget to point his gun at her forehead.

There were no signs of anyone in the hangar. The majority of the soldiers had been deployed outside and the rest were likely steering the flagship.

“B-Brother…”

Using the fiercely trembling young girl as a shield, Zaat stood up once more.

“Who would’ve thought it would be the prince. I would never have expected to be caught red-handed by ''you''.” Those eyes tore up in hatred.

“The life granted unto by His Majesty, is it? Or could it possibly be from Lord Simon? That man speaks his true mind too much. Be that as it may, I would never have imagined you would see even up to the slave’s rebellion—”

“Enough of this, Zaat. There’s no place left for you to run. If you’re also a noble, accept defeat like a man and hand over Ineli.”

“Ha!” Zaat snorted. “Well aren’t you the hero, prince. I bet you’d love to have this written down in history. But unfortunately for you, that won’t happen. As if I would let even a bit of your imperial history to remain. For the dawn celebrating me as Mephius’ ‘founding’ king, first, I will have to burn that tainted history to pieces.”

“That’s great.”

“Silence!”

[[Image:Rakuin no Monshou v02 297.jpg|thumb]]
Zaat further pressed the gun against Ineli, who was almost like an infant about to burst into tears.

A strong wind blew in from the opened hatch. In the midst of the clothes and hair flapping noisily,

“It will not end like this. The stagnation you self-proclaiming imperials created will ruin you from within. And at that time...I ''will'' return. To here, to these lands of Mephius!”

Saying this, Zaat fired a shot to Orba’s side. It was to restrain Vileena, who had begun to stealthily circle the afloat airship to behind Zaat’s back. Even the princess dropped down and shrieked. Within that moment, Orba made a dash for Zaat.

Drawing out the sword from his back, he tried to lunge at Zaat’s arm. Zaat never expected the prince to come charging at him with a weapon in one hand, and hurriedly switched targets. But it was already too late. In that quick moment he was already within thrusting range.

A gunshot sounded. This time, luck was on Zaat’s side. Orba’s injuries from his battles with Gash and Pashir affected him more than he expected, and when he was a mere distance away, he toppled over from the wind.

“Guh!”

Orba fell over backwards with a groan. The bullet shot through his chest.

“Brother…!”

“Prince!”

The cries of these two girls overlapped. Zaat gave a low, maniacal laugh while his brows glistened with sweat.

“With this…with this, there’s no turning back.”

Orba lay collapsed and unmoving. “Prince!” the princess called out from the airship once more. Zaat turned his gun to the princess who began to climb off her airship. Her platinum hair swayed as she glared at the rebel.

“You…!”

“This is what he gets for acting heroic. He should have just stayed the usual prince and quietly trembled in the corner of the stands.”

“And you were the one driven to a corner by that prince’s hand, were you not? Surrender yourself, Zaat. Then you’ll only have been a man who strayed off his path.”

“It is because I want to return Mephius back to man’s hand that I have performed this deed. Do you not understand that, little girl?”

“Pitiful man,” Vileena murmured, “blinded by your own words. A country cannot be led by a single person. You are a pitiful man who does not pay heed to the times, and continues to chase after a delusion without knowing when to give up, just like that pitiable Ryucown.”

Vileena threw words of ridicule at him, thinking it might make him falter even a little. However, fortune still smiled on Zaat. Seeing the Imperial Guards were more or less held in check, a ship from one of Zaat’s subordinates surfaced her way. Even then, she did not give up.

“First and foremost, where will you escape to? There are no powers willing to hide you, who turned against your master.”

“Oh, then what do you think of Garbera?” Zaat sneered, suddenly enjoying this conversation in its entirety. “As righteous knights, won’t they gladly welcome me, who bore my fangs against the nefarious Mephius?”

“What foolishness. As long as I am here, Garbera and Mephius will be tied together. Do you think you can sever that bond so easily?”

“Lass, you speak as if you know everything. But you understand nothing. It was none other than Garbera that involved you, down to your very life, in this plan.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I wonder...I’ve already spoken too much. There will be plenty of time from now on. Why don’t I slowly explain it to you during our journey in the sky?”

The hatch opened and an airship came in. Two soldiers jumped down and approached her way. Vileena ground her teeth. The prince was in the corner of her view. The prince, collapsed face-up, was still unmoving. ''It can’t be,'' she thought. The prince criticised and sneered at by many. Truthfully, Vileena was also annoyed at his weak attitude. She had also gotten angry at him. But he was a prince who sometimes took bold incentives with ingenuity that riled his foes. Everyday, he showed a different face, where even if she tried to understand him, she would suddenly notice the day gone by and wonder if maybe today, she would be able to come to an understanding of him.

''That that prince would meet his end here...''

And even as they glared at one another, Zaat called out to the soldiers holding their bayonets.

''We will take the women with us. Move away the prince’s corpse. Be sure to properly dispose of it. It’s better to make it look like we have more hostages.''

The soldiers stepped over Gil’s body and grabbed Ineli away from Zaat. At that time, Ineli put up a weak struggle.

“M-Me? What will happen to me? What will you do with me?”

“You? Hmm...we’ll have you act as a shield against Mephius’ pursuers,” Zaat gave a smirk. “And then after that...when I’ve completed my conquest, I suppose I’ll have you put on the guillotine to represent the imperials. The people will rejoice and will surely jeer and throw stones at you as you are handed your punishment.”

“I...I don’t believe this. I’ve done nothing wrong!”

Zaat elatedly suppressed a laugh.

“Even you should be aware of the everyday troubles the people are put through. You should know of the anguish his retainers are put through, knowing the very foundation of the country might change tomorrow on the emperor’s single whim,” he said in a sing-song tune. There was no doubt Zaat Quark thought himself an envoy of justice at this time, who would be told throughout in many historic records. Why was it that those eyes that should have been unable to capture the citizen’s suffering, were now able to? He, at this point in time, held the impression that he had stood up for the people.

“Hiii!”

The soldier who gripped Ineli’s shoulder suddenly gave a jolted scream.

Someone had grabbed him from behind. As the soldier violently swung around his arm in a panic, that someone stole the bayonet from him, and following a whack on the head with the handle, kicked the soldier aside.

“It can’t be!”

Zaat stumbled backwards. Before his eyes opposite the collapsed soldier, he beheld a pale-faced apparition.

“Impossible! T-The bullet...I’m sure the bullet definitely hit you…”

Orba, while huffing for air, narrowly dodged a thrust from an incoming soldier and slashed him in the stomach. The soldier silently fell and this time, Orba was the one to step over his body.

With each step he took, pain seared throughout his upper body. The bullet had definitely hit him. That impact, even now, struck through his entire body like a heavy brick. Not paying any mind to Ineli, who was now practically crawling her way to escape, Zaat gave a loud mouthed scream.

“D-Don’t come any closer!” he shouted, as if he were possessed by a ghost.

He took aim with his gun again. Orba slapped it away with his right hand.

“What was that? What did you just say, when you used the slaves, of how they staked their lives, and then trampled all over them? As if you could even understand.”

Orba spouted hoarsely, and chopped Zaat on the temple with his left hand.

His knees lost all power. Orba laid his unconscious body onto the floor. At that time,

“Zaat-sama!”

He saw another man at the stairs leading up from the hangar. The man’s name and face were unfamiliar to Orba, but he was an officer of the Blue Archery Division, Gary Lynwood.

It was unfortunate for them both that, at this time, Gary saw Zaat collapse as a sign of him being dead. He gave in to his anger and shot his gun. A bullet bounced off near Orba’s feet.

Orba fired back. At that time, he was assaulted by a furious vertigo. His reactions were all the more slowed by his injuries.

''Bang, bang, bang!'' Three shots were fired and his body convulsed. It wasn’t Orba’s though, but the body of Zaat, which he quickly used as a shield.

“Tch.”

Orba spat out some blood and fired a shot over Zaat’s shoulders. It struck Gary in the chest and threw him against the wall where he fell down sideways, leaving a trail of blood.

Like this, the struggle where a single breath sent his whole body running in a fever came to a close.

“Shit!”

Zaat’s body slid out of his arm. Orba himself fell on his knees and furiously arched his back. Sweat raced down his face and continued to drip onto the hangar floor.

Without a doubt, Zaat had breathed his last. Orba bit into his lips.

''Now the trail leading to Oubary’s involvement is gone.''

He could also try to capture Zaat’s subordinates, but the chances they knew the full contents of the plan were slim.

The ferocious emotions that held him had, after the battle concluded, been overtaken by a rush of forlorn anguish.

''What was I fighting for then? To protect the prince’s status? To protect those stinkin’ Mephian nobles?''

As he was about to forget himself and kick at Zaat’s corpse,

“Prince Gil.”

A girl was running to him as if she were trying to fly.

Vileena knit her brows and had opened her faintly moist lips. Under the heavy winds generated across the hatch, her hair had come undone and swayed behind her. When Orba saw her, a mysterious feeling welled within him.

''I see...''

It came so suddenly and filled the bottomless emptiness within him, if even a little.

''If there had to be one, if there had to be one reason, then my objective was...''

“Are you injured? Let me see where you were shot. No, actually, don’t force yourself to do the impossible and lay down there...”

“I’m fine.”

“But…”

And it was at this time that Orba was overcome with exhaustion. He reached over the single point burning under his chest and took out a shining, golden medal. The bullet was driven into the upper part of that medal. It was crumbled, but still seemed to give off heat. Vileena gasped.

“Prince?” Vileena asked dubiously.

“Why is the prince carrying this?”

Orba was momentarily at a loss for words. Only the sound of Ineli wailing resounded within the hangar.



Afterwards, Orba strapped himself onto an airship piloted by a soldier. Ineli got on Vileena’s ship. Both ships flew off from the flagship.

Below them, the fight continued to unfold. There, Orba announced from above of Zaat’s death and Ineli’s rescue. The movements of Zaat’s soldiers quickly grew less coordinated. Victory was already more or less decided in the arena. They knew their final acts of resistance to be vain and were nothing more than a pointless struggle.

The flagship captured by Zaat’s soldiers had also been seized by the garrisons reformed fleet.

Like this, the final day of the founding festival had passed and the series of revolts were brought to an end.

And Orba was—

—well, he was remembering the excruciating pain he suffered throughout his whole body, particularly on his right shoulder.

Although the medal had stopped the bullet, the impact had likely fractured his collarbone. Nonetheless, he could not afford to rest his body just yet. There was still the portion of cleaning up.

Orba saw to Vileena and the others being dropped off at a safe place and had his ship head towards the arena once more.

===Part 3===
Even though it was before noon, the corridors of the Main Palace were sombre.

Clouds had overcast it.

Orba, accompanied by Shique and Gowen, strut down the hall.

Not even seven days had passed since the festival’s final day. Orba wore a cast around his arm, but walked with his chest held high.

The maids and chamberlains he passed by stopped their feet and sent a bow his way. Those eyes held a respect never seen until now towards the prince who stemmed the tide of Zaat Quark’s rebellion.

Fame of how continuing on after his first campaign, he had exposed his hidden wits, spread within the country. But claims labelling him as an eccentric also surfaced.

This had come from Gil’s choice of action immediately after he rescued Ineli from Zaat’s ship.

He came back to the arena and announced to the slaves there that he would ‘have them work under him’.

They may have been roused by and used by Zaat, but it was hard to imagine anything except capital punishment against the slaves who plotted a rebellion. That would be to become slaves in the battlefield, or so Gil said:

“One to two hundred of our own troops revolted against Mephius. With a firm leash, they will surely become heroes that bring about victory for Mephius.”

“What do you think, Colyne?”

The emperor asked his retainer, unable to hide his surprise at how his son managed to put a stop to the chain of disturbances.

It was the same for Colyne Isphan. However, he was a natural at reading his lord’s intentions, and this time as well, he replied in courtesy.

“......The prince has ability. I believe it is best to leave things to him.”

With that single conversation, emperor Guhl Mephius resolved his mind. As Gil’s reward, he would acknowledge the claim.

However, it was only this time that Guhl made a show of generosity as emperor. Since what happened with Zaat, the emperor began to act more and more self-righteous. As if he had forgotten Kaiser’s opposition towards the relocation of the Dragon Shrine, he now raised the issue of the establishment of the shrine, and in little to no time at all, began its construction. As the emperor’s advisors, it was decided the group of elders would dwell within the shrine, and the emperor, instead making use of Zaat’s rebellion, had strengthened his political powers.

''That makes me the one who helped him accomplish that'', Orba thought.

Besides the stopping of Zaat’s rebellion, Orba fought a battle where he got little of what he wanted. Even then, the small satisfying portion he had been granted was the plummeting of Oubary Bilan’s assessment. Knowing of the plan, Oubary likely disappeared off the face of the rebellion and planned to assist the winning side, whether it be the emperor or Zaat, playing the role of a patriotic hero. However, based on the results, he was criticized for having ‘left behind the emperor and be the only one to flee ahead of them’.

A faint smile creviced across Orba’s mouth, when opposite his way came along Noue Salzantes. Noue greeted him with a smile. He remained in Solon even after the festival had ended in order to continue discussion of the transfer of Apta territory, but that too would see its end today.

“Lord Noue.”

Orba nonchalantly called this man, who was about to pass by without incident, to a stop.

“Yes?” he turned around.

“It’s great above all that the princess is safe.”

“Pardon?”

Noue momentarily drew a blank. Then affirming with a nod, “Yes, it is.”

“There certainly was a fear of danger befalling the princess in that disturbance. Your highness the crown prince’s heroic efforts have also rescued us Garberan retainers—”

“Next time,” Orba pointed at his own head, “they might aim for ''me''.”

And he continued to walk along accompanied by Shique and Gowen without turning back.

Noue stared at his back incredulously. Those words seemed to hint that the princess had not been ‘caught up in the disturbance’, but that the enemy surely aimed for her life. And to purposely convey that to Noue…

His aim was clear.

Noue’s smiling facade, which usually never came off, crumbled.

''Gil Mephius.''

Without realizing it, he wiped the sweat off his brows. Of course, he held both anger and surprise at how Gil trampled over his plans. However, it was at this moment that he experienced a shiver in its truest sense.

''What an unfathomable man. Like this, it would’ve been better if I had only observed him.''

As of this moment, Noue Salzantes was unable to see through Gil. While it was a fact that Gil had brought about Ryucown’s death, when Noue caught a glimpse of him, he had concluded that he wasn’t much of a threat and neglected to collect his ‘fragments’.

''My eyes have become clouded. The only one to fear in Mephius is that man alone.''

With a flick of his hair, Noue turned around once more.

''Interesting. Who would have thought in the barbaric country that is Mephius, there existed a man the same type as me. How fearsome, and yet interesting.''

Wasn’t the last time he held these feelings when he came across Ryucown’s bedazzling future? As he thought this, a chuckle continued to escape his pallid face.



“Quickly now, princess. Please make haste. Lord Noue is departing.”

“Wait. Just a little longer.”

Vileena was, at this time, shut away in her room sitting in front of a most unusual desk. She was writing up letters to be delivered to the people of her hometown. She would entrust them to Noue, who was returning to his own country.

She had been at this every night recently. But she was a woman of poor penmanship and to make matters worse…

“Now, now, you’re acting as if you’ve been separated from Garbera for tens of years. You keep writing more and more!”

It was as Theresia remarked. What she was trying to write was no insignificant quantity. She could not be satisfied with what she had.

Because she was the Vileena with the bad habit of crumbling away any writing slips whenever she wrote letters, the room would easily become a mess of scrapped paper in a moment of undue vigilance. Naturally, it fell on Theresia to gather them.

“How about you dedicate some of that passion to writing a love letter to the prince?”

''Naturally'', Vileena chose to disregard this and continued to obsess over how she wanted to tell her beloved grandfather of this, and how she wanted to write to him about that.

''Speaking of the prince...''

Her pen suddenly stopped.

It was about the medal. Afterwards, when she questioned Prince Gil about it,

“I...borrowed it from Orba.”

He answered, somewhat stumbling.

“It...looked like a nice charm. So I borrowed it while I brought Zaat’s rebellion to a stop. It’s become like this...but don’t worry, I’ll fix it somehow. It should be fine. Probably.”

Vileena was now surely writing down her impression of Prince Gil.

:''He’s somewhat like a child.''

She jotted down. Continuing on,

:''But he’s not someone I can let my guard down around.''

:''Between me and the prince, who will control Mephius? He will make a fine competitor.''

Vileena smiled as she finished writing.



“So you’ve come.”

“I have, father.”

Orba joined his feet in salute, and behind him, Gowen and Shique made a bow and took their leave.

The emperor had personally summoned him.

He was in one of the four towers surrounding the Main Palace. From the top floor, the emperor surveyed over the gardens and dragon huts within the palace. Two medium-sized Gor dragons engaged against one another as part of the training drills and in a separate location, a dragon rider mounted on the small-sized Tengo dragon ran around in laps.

Orba had some ideas why the emperor had summoned him. And Fedom also wasn’t without his complaints.

“Really…...the nerve of you!”

Fedom Aulin was at his wit’s end. The prince’s rise to fame made good progress for Fedom, but he could not forgive him for not allowing him to partake in it.

“It would’ve done you no harm to put in a single good word for me. Everything could’ve gone better. The worst was how you made those slaves work under you on your own accord. His majesty, Guhl, may have welcomed it with open arms, but he will surely scold you after. You’d better not talk out of your place! Wait, and ''only'' wait until his majesty’s anger subsides.”

But even Orba didn’t dare plan to defy the emperor here. He stared at the emperor’s back, waiting for scoldings to be hurled his way. Some time passed.

In this way, he saw no change in what could only be seen as an old man’s back. He was of course, swordless and carried no gun, but Orba still held qualms of how his life might be taken now.

<!--Then,
-->
“Do you know of Ax Bazgan?”

Having been asked so suddenly, Orba could only reply with a “Yes.”

To the west of Mephius was a nation consisting of several spread out fortresses. It once served under the imperial court but was split off following insurrection after insurrection, and presently competed with Mephius for power. Belonging to that nation, was Mephius’ longtime enemy, Ax Bazgan.

The Bazgan House hailed from a family line serving Mephius, but roughly two hundred years ago they had arbitrarily cut down the Zerdians spread across the western lands by their own sword in their bid for dominion. Orba had yet to hear of what happened after, but that aside, they had since then held an antagonistic relation with the Imperial Dynasty of Mephius.

Ax Bazgan had invaded Mephius territory three times and each time, Mephius had driven him back, but Ax was a keen and opportunistic man and three times, Mephius failed to take his head.

Twelve years ago, Guhl Mephius dispatched an army to the west after his head. However, Ax readily abandoned his own fortress and with the help of a relative, safely escaped to a different city-state. The army occupied the fortress, but the small city-state which should have been in civil war on end was strangely cooperative with the enemy outsiders and launched an attack simultaneously alongside three forces.

Amongst them was, of course, Ax, and he soon re-established the terrain as his own after the Mephius army retreated without breaking a sweat. After that, Mephius began its ten year war with Garbera and the western fortresses sparked hostility between them once more.

That Ax Bazgan’s movements had lately been suspicious.

Apta fortress was in the southwestern portion of Mephius. The fortress where his only brother, Roan, had been drafted and Oubary had taken command of would soon be returned back to Mephius. They had received news that Ax was preparing to mount an attack aiming for that chance. 	

“Rumours of Zaat’s rebellion have spread to the surrounding countries. At any rate, the number of countries that have sent envoys number many. It is impossible to stem the flow of information. Ax aside, it would not be strange for someone to attack Mephius on seeing its political unrest.”

“No, it wouldn’t, father.”

“There may be those spurred on by Zaat and willing to defy me again. I cannot allot a sizable army for Apta. That, Gil, is where you shall go.”

“............”

Orba had no words to express himself. His forces comprised of the sixty-three members of the Imperial Guard and the two hundred and six slaves from the rebellion that now worked under him. There, Oubary’s Black Armoured Division and Odyne’s Golden Axe Division would each loan out fifty soldiers to assist in safeguarding Apta.

“One month shall suffice,” Guhl said, his back still turned the other way. “Stall Ax’s troops at Apta for that time. Once the month is up, I will send reinforcements if there are no movements from Ende or the anti-imperial factions. The dawn of that day shall celebrate your marriage and official appointment as charge of Apta.”

Orba was silent as he bowed down his head.

''Is he testing his own son?''

Although no sound escaped him, tens of thousands of words floated across his mind.

Of the troops given to the prince, three fifths had only recently rose against the country in revolt and it was questionable whether or not he could control them. If Ax really attacked, it was questionable that he could even last three days, let alone a month.

It was a poor play on behalf of the emperor. If things went badly, he would lose the territory finally returned to him and possibly even his successor.

However, Orba also made no oversight in his amassing of information. The possibility that war might break out between Ende and Garbera had become the talk of the statesmen. The emperor could only be thinking of using the excuse of Ax’s attack from the west as an excuse not to send reinforcements to maintain their relation with Ende.

''So he plans to hold out as long as possible to see which side is stronger?''

Guhl was cautious. If he simply sided with Garbera, there was a possibility Ende’s ally from the east, Arion, would come out. Until now, Arion had expended the majority of its forces towards its eastern expedition, and having mostly accomplished this feat, it would likely set its eye on the centre of the continent. Furthermore, knowing of Mephius’ political turmoil at this time, the powerful Arion might well aim the brunt of its force at the Solon capital.

''But if Mephius allies with Ende, what will happen to Vileena? How will this affect Gil Mephius’ standing?''

And while this wasn’t yet confirmed, one other subject had become the topic of gossip within the palace.

A team of Imperial Court doctors had been seen frequenting the women’s chambers. Rumours spread that this might signify Melissa conceiving a child.

And without taking notice of the emotions running through Orba’s mind, the emperor spoke further.

“I’m afraid the princess will have to wait longer. You should also take Princess Vileena with you. Apta will eventually be your own castle. The princess should also get used to living there.”

“We shall celebrate your marriage after a month,” Guhl mumbled on.

While he held his head in a bow, he felt a rage simmer through his chest. Flowing within the flood running through his body, the most primitive of instincts—his desire to do battle—had been lit.

''I get it now. The threat isn’t only limited to Ax and the sword-slaves.''

A battle with a slim chance of victory.

More specifically, even ''more'' battles.

What Orba could expect was, in the end, a continuing battle.

In that case—

“I understand, father.”

Orba joined his feet in salute.

''I’ll do it.''

Compared to when he swore his revenge, Orba now had standing; even if that standing meant his life would constantly be aimed for.

Compared to when he swore his revenge, Orba now had his own troops; even if the flames of turmoil still stirred within those troops.

Compared to when he swore his revenge—.

''I’ll do it. I’ll set foot back here, to Solon, in triumph.''

The Apta that was near his hometown would make it easy to get information on his brother and mother. However, whether Orba was aware of it or not at the time, the times he clashed swords with Ryucown and Zaat had changed his views towards battle.

The harder the battles and the bigger his enemies were, the more Orba’s feelings lit up like a flame to match them.

Orba’s pair of eyes and entire body now radiated the ferocity of a tiger.

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