Editing Tytania:Volume 1 Chapter 3

== Chapter 3 – The Strong and the Weak ==
=== I ===
Evaluating Tytania’s power, military might, and wealth was no easy task. While her armada of 100,000 vessels was unmatched by any single power, combining the 9 empires, 38 kingdoms, 8 grand duchies, 40 duchies, 151 republics, and 449 interstellar cities in the universe would exceed a million vessels.

And yet, these entities have never united to form a coalition that could stand against Tytania. Some small-scale pacts and short-lived alliances did form but suffered repeated defeats and disintegrated in the face of Tytania’s military might and diplomatic manoeuvres.

It could be said that Tytania’s real strength was in her unity and cohesion. This held true not only in the spiritual realm but also in the physical dimension. Tytania displayed her masterful hand in dividing potential and real hostile forces and instigated conflict between them.

“Uraniborg<ref>“Celestial city” is here pronounced “Uraniborg”.</ref>”, the Celestial City. It was the stronghold of clan Tytania, and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it the centre of the universe from a human geographical standpoint. It was a vast artificial city orbiting around planet Ryutehi, the capital of the Vardana Empire. Its construction had started during the days of Neville Tytania and was completed in those of Nuri.

Nuri had coldly dismissed his father’s project as “a mere paper tiger floating around in space”, but he didn’t abandon it and, in fact, completed it upon inheriting it because he knew well that in human affairs, such paper tigers could exert some influence.

And thus, the “Celestial City” that was constructed became a symbol of Tytania’s power as ruler of the entire universe. Nuri probably was smirking as he oversaw the armaments of the “Celestial City”. It was a wet dream for any weapon enthusiast. A city built as an artificial disc with a diameter of 52.5 kilometres, covered with 12 layers of transparent domes. Equipped with 4,000 electromagnetic catapults, 2,860 large-calibre laser cannons, and 14 military satellites, it looked down from above upon the capital of the Vardana Empire.

1st of June. The four Dukes of Tytania were relaxing in the private salon, gazing down at the blue light of the planet below. Ariabert spoke to Jouslain.

“It appears that Fan Hyulick has escaped from Lord Arses and gone into hiding.”

He probably had no intention of advancing his career under Tytanian command. They had no choice but to interpret his actions as a declaration of intent.

“How regrettable. While there are geniuses among military strategists, there are no prodigies<ref>Ariabert here is playing on the nuances of two words with similar meanings: ''tensai'' (天才), a person with superior innate talent, and ''shuusai'' (秀才), a person with superior knowledge, usually through hard work and dedication.</ref>. It is the same for the arts. Natural talent takes precedence over effort. I had thought that Fan Hyulick was close to being a genius.”

Although it was Ariabert Tytania who was saying these words, there was no hypocrisy coming out of his mouth. His handsome face, though lacking in individuality, wore a composed expression. Though the youth seemed somewhat nervous, it was apparent that he had recovered mentally from his defeat in Cerberus.

“I was amused by the thought of ordering around the man who defeated me, but I guess it is not to be.”

His wry smile was aimed at Idris Tytania. His eyes gleamed with a merciless and bitter sparkle.

“Given the situation, it seems that we cannot avoid having this Fan Hyulick become our enemy. We must ensure that his existence becomes a thing of the past before it encourages the forces that are hostile to Tytania.

''He likes to be fixated on things'', thought Jouslain. He wasn’t underestimating Idris’s abilities by any means, but Idris’ eagerness to bridge the two- to three-year age gap was sometimes excessive, which left a troubling feeling.

There would be plenty of opportunities in Idris’ life to refine his character, but he would likely clash with Jouslain along the way. Paying no heed to these needless worries, Idris continued to speak about the extermination of anti-Tytania forces through the cosmos.

A world divided in two camps, the Tytania faction and the anti-Tytania faction, seemed a bit too dull. The world was better off being diverse, so the existence of “anti-Tytania” should be allowed to exist. If Tytania were to categorically reject them, then her own capacity would be neither broad nor deep. If Tytania’s capacity was broad and deep, her lifespan might increase in proportion.

“The sun is at its zenith; it must not set.”

It was an Earthling of ancient times who left this maxim. ''Isn’t that an apt remark?'' wondered Jouslain. Decline and destruction shall inevitably befall Tytania. Those who didn’t believe this would surely believe that the Roman Empire and the Mongol Empire<ref>“Great Mongol Empire” (大蒙古帝国) is here pronounced “Yeke Mongɣol Ulus”.</ref> were still currently in existence.

That being said, there was, of course, no certainty that Tytania’s downfall would occur during Jouslain’s lifetime or that he had any intention of contributing to it. He was a Tytanian and held fast to the values of serving Tytania’s interests. This didn’t contradict the slightest his ability to foresee Tytania’s downfall within the scope of a historical point of view. It was only through such foresight that measures could be taken to avoid such a fate.

Jouslain Tytania was pondering the psychology of Clanner Ajman. Did he possess the heart of steel of the Second Clanner Nuri, or did he not?

Through history, very few pessimistic prophets had been welcome. They were often subject to scorn and could even suffer persecution and oppression. Jouslain was one of the Four Dukes of Tytania and, depending on the circumstances, could become the ninth Landless Clanner.

His freedom of speech and action may seem to be protected by his power and influence, but in reality, it might not be the case. If Jouslain frankly spoke his mind, he would no doubt incur the displeasure of Clanner Ajman and the other Three Dukes, and would surely be stripped of his position. The blood in their veins might be the same, but their mental lineage wasn’t.

Jouslain spoke up. Ariabert, who was once more returning to the front lines, had sought his cousin’s advice on military strategy. This is what Juslain had replied:

“How about employing the tactic used by Fan Hyulick in Cerberus Sector?”

Ariabert’s shoulders slightly shifted. The young Tytanian looked at his cousin with a faint spark of sharpness in his gaze. He didn’t scream “Don’t be ridiculous”.

“What is your reason for recommending this?”

“First, it is an effective tactical approach. Second, by properly recognising your rival’s tactics, your own abilities will also be properly recognised.”

Ariabert’s gaze softened. He was, by no means, a narrow-minded person.

“I see, that opinion is worthy of being heeded.”

“As sinister as it sounds, even if it fails, it would still be fine. No one would try to surprise Tytania with this tactic ever again. It is a trick that can only be used once.”

“Lord Jouslain, you are quite the tactician.”

It was with a tinge of mockery lingering in his voice that Idris offered this assessment. He was the commander of the Imperial Guard of the Vardana Empire, and his duty didn’t simply lie in guarding Emperor Harsha VI, but especially in keeping an eye on him. And yet, he left the surface to come to the “Celestial City” because of a single motive.

While many speak of military rule and righteous government, how many rulers throughout history didn’t tread upon the Path of the Hegemon<ref>A play on words lost in translation. “Military rule” (覇道) in Japanese literally means “path of the hegemon”, while “righteous government” (王道) literally means “path of the king”.</ref>? If one were to remove the paving of the Path of the King, it would reveal the muddy Path of the Hegemon. By choosing not to rule over a single nation, Tytania became the ruler of tens of nations and dominated the universe. Since there is no actual Path of the King, events had to be measured by the point of view of the Path of the Hegemon, and since Tytania’s Path of the Hegemon is the greatest of all, then isn’t Tytania the greatest entity in history? Such was Idris’ line of thought.

Zarlisch, who had maintained a solemn silence until then, shifted his stiff beard and spoke.

“Have you not yet married, Lord Jouslain?”

Suddenly confronted with a mundane topic, Jouslain blinked.

“What about you, Lord Zarlisch? Is there no one in your beautiful flower garden<ref>Flowers are a common metaphor for women in Japanese. Jouslain is essentially hinting at the fact that Zarlisch has many lovers, or a harem, and is asking if there is one in particular he wishes to marry among them.</ref>?”

“I am unable to decide. Even the flower that comprehends<ref>“The flower that comprehends” is a metaphor that means “beautiful woman”. It comes from a quote from a Chinese emperor: “Even the beauty of the lotus cannot compare to the flower that comprehends words”.</ref> can be both greedy and poisonous. From what I’ve heard, Lord Jouslain, your favourite lady-in-waiting is a demure young woman, though.”

“Well, I wonder about that.”

Francia’s smile appeared faintly across Jouslain’s mind. He certainly thought her to be a decent and honest girl, but it was also true that he found her somewhat lacking something. ''“Could this be the arrogance of a man who obtained influence at a young age?”'' he reflected, but he had no intentions to tie himself to a family life.

“Lord Jouslain, as surprising as it may seem, you appear to be living in luxury.”

Zarlisch laughed heartily. One wouldn’t expect him to have a brother like Arses. As he made that observation, Jouslain was curious about which of the two brothers felt the strongest aversion for the other.


=== II ===
A month later, on the 10th of June that same year, Ariabert Tytania saw action in an engagement as fleet commandant. The duchy of Turanzia, which had some distant ties to the Vardana Empire, had mobilised their forces. Of course, they didn’t do it out of concern for the Vardanan plight but rather over disputes concerning shipping rights.

Normally, the commander in charge should have been Zarlisch, but Ariabert had strongly requested to lead the troops himself, seeking to avenge the humiliating defeat he had suffered the previous month at the hands of some obscure commander called Fan Hyulick.

If depicted in an uncharitable manner, he was obsessed with restoring his personal honour, but should he suffer another defeat, Ariabert’s standing among the Four Dukes would plummet at the lowest. Fully aware of his conundrum, Ariabert went to the battlefield, determined to both restore his honour and defend Tytania’s interests. Among Tytania’s Four Dukes, there were no cowards.

The 10th of June, Syracusa Star System. Having already left Turanzian space, this star system could be called Tytania’s zone of space control. The 3,300-vessel fleet of Turanzia in inertial flight maintained a state of combat readiness when they received intelligence from their reconnaissance satellites.

“It’s Tytania!”

The word raced through communication channels with the same meaning as “disaster”. An extreme tension ran through the entire fleet. Soon, on the screens of each ship appeared what appeared to be a string of pale blue sparkles forming a gigantic necklace of light.

It was Tytania that controlled the mainstay of transport and communications in space. This meant that from a military perspective, they were well-positioned to launch surprise attacks. Still, they were, of course, not infallible. The 3,300-vessel Turanzian fleet didn’t neglect their duties of searching and detecting. Thus, at a distance of five or six light-seconds, they managed to detect the Tytanian fleet pouring on them at 10 o’clock. The commander, Rear-Admiral Connaught, swallowed hard as he ordered to intercept it. The Tytanian fleet numbered 3,600 ships, so their combat strength could be estimated to be roughly on par. The 10th of June, 14:30. The battle of Syracusa Sector began. As one could expect, the fight started with artillery fire, but the Turanzian barrage overwhelmed the Tytanian force, and the battle was folding to their advantage.

“Fire! Destroy them!”

Screamed Connaught. It wasn’t as much a command as an exclamation of excitement, but driven by their momentum, the Turanzian fleet advanced as it rained down fire, shattering the Tytanian fleet which had been caught off guard before it could complete its formation.

The Tytanian fleet retreated. It seemed they had lost their nerve under the heavy barrage. Their manoeuvring was a far cry from the usual Tytanian ''élan''. It was as if Ariabert Tytania, a seasoned though young veteran, had lost his confidence since his defeat at the “Battle of Cerberus” and could have veiled his tactical acumen. Believing this to be the case and prioritising his wishful thinking over observation, Connaught pressed on with his aggressive advance.

Connaught’s feeling of victory lasted less than two hours before being shattered forever. Just as the Tytanian fleet seemed to have dispersed while disorderly retreating, broken by the Turanzian charge, over a thousand gunboats deployed in a line across the width of the fleet and fired a volley of Weigert cannons at the charging Turanzian army.

It was none other than Fan Hyulick’s tactic of using gunboats to deploy Weigert cannons.

Connaught wasn’t unaware of the existence of that tactic. But he never could have imagined that Tytania would have employed a tactic that their enemies had used against them. Moreover, the very notion of using gunboats to destroy giant warships was the mindset of a pauper, something that was entirely at odds with Tytania. This preconception had led Connaught astray. Tytania overwhelmed its enemies through numeric superiority and conventional tactics and crushed them with all her might. Who could have thought she’d use such a stratagem, and one that was taught by an enemy, no less?

And yet, reality exceeded the limits of Connaught’s imagination. Within 30 seconds, the Turanzian had lost 30% of their forces and been rendered unable to continue the battle.

“Tytanian bastards…”

With rage and despair pounding at his optical nerves and vestibular system, Connaught almost fell to his knees. His chief of staff, Rear-Admiral Hafez, steadied him as he ordered to retreat.

As Tytania launched their counter-offensive, a barrage of flashes and fireballs, Connaught’s flagship, the ''Marius'', sustained damage to four sections of its hull, barely managing to shake off their pursuers. But with that single engagement, the Turanzia had lost 70% of their stellar forces, leaving them with no other choice than to completely abandon any resistance against Tytania. A one-sided unequal treaty would sooner or later be concluded between the two belligerents.

In a single month, Ariabert Tytania had avenged his recent defeat. Moreover, he did so by employing the very tactics of the enemy commander who had defeated him. Tytania never resigns herself to defeat but turns it into an advantage to bolster her glory. This very flexibility was utterly terrifying.

“Did you see the terror of Tytania? They never lose their innovation spirit. This is the very reason our empire, clinging to its old ways, fell behind them!”

The one who shouted these words as he hurled his cup on the deck of his starship was Salam Amzekar, a young admiral of the Vardanan Imperial Fleet.

He was a tall young man with straw-coloured hair and amber eyes who had been staying in the duchy of Turanzia as a military advisor when he found himself drawn into this battle, and like Commander Connaught, he had barely escaped death. He could no longer return to his homeland. His only option to ensure his safety was to find a place to seek asylum.

Those who lacked strength could only rely on tradition and style. Back in the past, the Vardanan Empire, through its own power, stood on equal footing with the Interstellar City League. Though they were at a general disadvantage and gave the impression of serving as a foil to the League’s superiority, they nevertheless stood on their own two feet.

When Tytania had left the City-state League and thrown her lot with the Vardanan Empire, the emperor and his subjects applauded with joy. They felt as if Vardanan supremacy over the galaxy was about to be established, and an infinite future was lying spread before the Empire like a fertile plain.

The conclusion was the current situation. For Tytania, the Vardanan Empire was nothing more than a tool to dominate the universe. It was a historical fact that Tytania didn’t simply mock Vardana but the very concept of any national dignity. Tytania’s philosophy was that if something grew old, it should be simply demolished and rebuilt, just like a house.

The Vardanan Empire’s government consisted of twelve members, which included the Prime Minister, Vice-Prime Minister, Minister of Foreign Affairs, and Minister of Finance. For over a century, the role of Minister of Military Affairs had invariably been held by a member or senior official of the Tytania clan. The current incumbent was Marquis Estrade Tytania, Clanner Ajman’s half-brother from a different mother.

In theory, the Empire had a constitution and a parliament, but they were virtually defunct. While there were 1,660 seats in parliament, its members served for life, and vacancies were rarely filled, so there were currently only 907 members with an average age of 72.9 years.

In the past, Neville Tytania had once offered a scathing critique of the democratic society in which he was raised.

“Democracy and such are but a craft for political veneer. In this universe, how are humans truly worthy of a democracy?”

''What can be expected from those who merely scavenge the scraps of the spoils of corrupt politicians?'' Thus spat out Neville Tytania. It was probably not unrelated to the fact that his father had sought to promote stronger political integration with the Interstellar City League, only to face opposition and be ousted through underhanded methods, dying in despair.

Anyhow, Vardana’s state, court, and government were in a pathetic state even before Tytania began meddling. They merely handled administrative tasks that Tytania couldn’t be bothered with and collected taxes. But even in a pathetic state, they weren’t without feelings.

“The Tytanian tyranny can no longer be tolerated.”

Needless to say, this was a conviction shared among many courtiers. But a conviction that was not backed by any action could only gnaw at them from within.

“In the first place, what exactly is Tytania! Barely two hundred years ago, they were just some powerful figure in the City League. It was thanks to the benevolence of His Majesty Harsha II that they could rise to power, and they now act with such arrogance.”

It was a forceful statement, but it increased their sense of emptiness proportionally. Tytania, just some powerful force in the City League, became over the generations a dynasty that trampled all nations. The passage of time was the same for all. So while Tytania was climbing ambitious stairs, what were the rulers and subjects of the Vardanan Empire doing?

On the evening of the 12th of June, after receiving news of Ariabert Tytania’s victory, fourteen high-ranking officials of Vardana’s Imperial Court gathered in the residence of Zagden, the Minister of the Interior. The gathering was done under the pretence of celebrating Zagden’s second-year anniversary since his appointment as a minister, but all those present were anti-Tytania. Among those present were the Minister of Justice Herawa, the Minister of Civil Affairs Nunes, and the Imperial Head Secretary Defontaine. The meeting was taking place in the billiard room in the basement, the billiard table having been removed and replaced with rows of tables.

Guards stood watch outside the door, and once everyone was sure enough that the premises were secure, the drinking and conversation were in full swing.

“Tytania is not invincible. Wasn’t that indeed proven some days ago at the battle of Cerberus? Defeating Tytania isn’t a pipe dream by any means.”

“But in only a matter of days Ariabert Tytania avenged his defeat. Didn’t he, conversely, just demonstrate Tytania’s true might to the world?”

“Correct. Dreadful indeed. As long as she has flexibility and resilience, we must not underestimate Tytania.”

It was rare to find a banquet where the atmosphere grew darker as drinks were poured. Since it was, after all, a gathering of political losers voicing grievances against victors, there wasn’t any reason the mood would be cheerful, but since the majority of those present were former nobles who lacked courage to defy Tytania, the best they could manage to do was to gather in secret and vent at those absent, emboldened by alcohol.

Occasionally, conspiracies were proposed but never took any concrete form, and they were forced to admit that they produced nothing but idle talk. But this evening was somewhat different. Someone said the following.

“Couldn’t we make use of the Minister of Military Affairs?”

As the voice rolled, a wave of metallic tension rippled through the gathering. Their eyes clouded by alcohol seemed to glimmer with a light resembling hope.


=== III ===
The Marquis Estrade Tytania, Minister of Military Affairs of the Vardanan Empire, was the half-brother of the Landless Clanner Ajman. He was 42. He wasn’t born of a legitimate marriage, but the same could be said of Ajman, and it wasn’t his maternal lineage that prevented him from reaching the top. To put it bluntly, he was judged to lack the talents of his younger half-brother.

He wasn’t mediocre, by any means. Whether as the commander of a fleet, an ambassador in diplomatic missions, or managing administrative affairs as Minister of the Interior, he could fulfil these responsibilities to the full. Which was precisely why his disappointment was so great.

“Why was Ajman appointed as the Landless Clanner and not me? I can’t believe that my achievements are any inferior to my brother’s.”

No matter how deeply Tytanian values and loyalty to the unity of the clan had been imbued in him, Estrade couldn’t accept his circumstances. Though he was elevated from count to marquis following his half-brother’s ascension, he remained inconsolable. If anything, it felt as if his half-brother were trying to curry favour with him, and having nowhere to turn his discontent and self-derision, they turned inwards.

As the Minister of Military Affairs and a Tytanian, he couldn’t show that discontent. But the fact that it was his younger brother Ajman who was promoted spoke volumes, and the court was sensitive to negative sentiments such as jealousy and resentment. Marquis Estrade Tytania’s discontent was, so to speak, an open secret.

The idea that he could be turned into an enemy of Tytania seemed natural, but Tytania was Tytania. The unity of the clan trumped personal grievances.

Anyhow, it was nothing more than idle chatter among the nobility in a drinking party. Court nobles were always keen to have others take on the dangerous task of tying a bell around the cat’s neck. Indeed, their discussion drifted more and more from any concrete plan, and when one of them rose to leave, the gathering came to an end.

Once the congregation had dispersed, Zagden, the Minister of the Interior, who was the host of the party, ordered his servants to clean the room. He went to the restroom to splash some cold water on his face, rinse his mouth, and remove the intoxication from his system.

With an expression serious and somewhat sinister, he kept people at a distance and shut himself in his study.

In his private office deep within the Celestial City, Landless Clanner Ajman was signing several documents. Lord Gramont, the Chief Secretary of the Clanner, entered and respectfully announced a visitor. He led in the guest, who was Duke Idris, the young Tytanian.

“Your Clanner Highness, I have a report to make. According to a message from Zagden, the Minister of the Interior, a group of high-ranking officials with dissenting views gathered at his residence not long ago and blurted out a load of nonsense.”

The Clanner remained silent. Taking this as an invitation to continue, Idris carried on.

“It’s the kind of thing one can expect of small fries. The moment they hear of my absence, discontented youngsters gather and begin to plot mischief. They haven’t even suspected that it could be a trap, so whatever they try is nothing by reckless folly.”

He also reported that the Minister of Military Affairs, the Clanner’s elder brother, was mentioned during that discussion. Both the reporter and listener kept a nonchalant demeanour.

“They can’t even imagine that the host of the meeting was in league with us. For dignitaries, they are unbelievably candid.”

The scornful remark ended the report. For the first time, Ajman nodded and thanked the reporter for his efforts.

“Well done, Lord Idris. It appears that appointing you to the Royal Guard was a wise decision.”

“You honour me. By the way, what are your intentions regarding the Minister of Military Affairs?”

These words had been prompted by Idris’ youthful impetuosity. Clanner Ajman barely moved his vigorous eyebrows, letting a moment of silence precede his reply.

“Making a move against the Minister of Military Affairs will prevent us from using him as bait. Let us take a moment to enjoy the spectacle of this reckless folly, as you called it.”

“As you wish, Your Clanner Highness.”

“Lord Idris, return to Ryutehi tomorrow. Keep a close watch on the movements of the court nobles. And above all, keep feigning complacency for now, and let them grow arrogant. No need to rush things for now. Do you understand?”

“As you wish…”

Bowing respectfully, Duke Idris Tytania took his leave, leaving the Landless Clanner Ajman leaning on his desk, deep in thought. His expression was not one of delight. That ashen expression that he never showed to others vanished when Lord Gramont, his Chief Secretary, entered once more to announce that it was time to greet the residents of the “Celestial City” from his balcony. At midnight, Ajman, accompanied by Duke Jouslain Tytania climbed to the balcony on the outermost part of the Clanner’s office, greeted by the cheers of a crowd of tens of thousands.

“Hail Tytania!”

Acclamations meaning ‘Long Live Tytania’ gushed and sent ripples through the vast but enclosed space. With an air of calm and majesty, the Clanner acknowledged the cheers, but as he took a step back from the edge of the balcony, he glanced over his broad shoulder at Ducke Jouslain Tytania, who was standing behind him.

“Remember these cheers clearly, Lord Jouslain. The crowd that is shouting ‘Long Live Tytania’ may one day cry ‘Down with Tytania’ out of these very mouths. Some three hundred years ago, their ancestors were shouting ‘Long Live the Interstellar City League’, and ‘Long Live the Vardanan Empire’.”

As Clanner Ajman was talking, Jouslain cast a slightly questioning glance at him.

He couldn’t just brush aside such a remark from the Clanner. Unable to immediately grasp why the sturdy Clanner would utter words that seemed to deny his own authority, Jouslain listened carefully to him.

“Some speak lightly about Tytania ruling over the people, but that is because they do not understand how the world works. Since time immemorial, no one has ever truly ruled over the people. The people are the bedrock of a river. The rulers are the flowing water. The water flows away, but the riverbed remains. Only the surface is carried away by the water.”

A silence fell, and the young Tytanian could eventually no longer bear its weight.

“Why are you telling me this, Your Clanner Highness?”

The Clanner appeared to be curling his lips. It was difficult to tell whether he was smiling or expressing disappointment at Jouslain’s question.

“Do you think this is unlike me, Lord Jouslain?”

“No, it is just that as ignorant as I am, I cannot fathom why you would say such things to me. If Your Highness would enlighten me as to your intentions, I would be most grateful.”

A few moments of silence passed before the Clanner spoke again.

“Ariabert, Zarlisch, and Idris are all capable and know no fear. And this is exactly their problem.”

The expression on the Clanner’s face as he watched Jouslain was a complex puzzle of self-derision and scorn, bitter realisation, and penetrating insight. Jouslain opened his mouth to speak but restrained himself and gathered all his senses to not miss a single word the Clanner might utter.

“Ever since the days of the second Clanner, His Clanner Highness Nuri, every Clanner of Tytania has been a coward, Lord Jouslain. While they were defeating mighty ennemies and trampling on the weak, they were trembling inside. They knew that the day would come when they too would fall. Which is why they sought to postpone that day, even for just a bit. This struggle is the history of Tytania. Her true nature.”

Jouslain held his breath and swallowed hard. The question he had long harboured had been answered with a considerable frankness.

The Clanner continued. He explained that the struggles of the successive Clanners had driven them to seek out enemies they could see and become obsessed with defeating them.

“To tell the truth, I had thought that this man, this Fan Hyulick, might be of use to us. But it appears he isn’t the kind of person who would easily let himself be used as our tool.”

What tool? Jouslain realised that it meant serving as the central figure of the anti-Tytanian united forces. Had this not been their standard tactic ever since the Second Clanner, Nuri?

“This is what is called ‘catching the whole herd in a single throw’” is what Nuri was said to have remarked after the success of his great purge. It was thought to be a statement of triumph. But could the truth be that he was trying to convince himself, in the face of his own fear, that no enemy had escaped his grasp?

“During my reign I must annihilate Tytania’s enemies. And I shall pass Tytania over to the next Clanner. And along with Tytania, I shall hand over her new enemies as well.”

Beneath the balcony, the crowd continued to cheer, and Ajman responded in kind.

“A Clanner must be a coward. This is precisely what will ultimately ensure the transmission of Tytania’s blood and authority. The other three lack this quality. Do you understand, Lord Jouslain?”

Under the Clanner’s gaze, Jouslain deeply bowed. His gesture suggested that he understood the meaning of the Clanner’s words, but at the same time, he couldn’t suppress a sense of revulsion. Could it be that the source of Tytania’s power was the fear of decline?

Clanner Ajman changed the subject and started to talk about the brothers Zarlisch and Arses. The topic had arisen from the latest developments regarding Fan Hyulick, who was currently being pursued by Arses.

“Arses covets his elder brother’s position. This is a certainty. It isn’t the work of his Tytanian blood but a natural occurrence in this world.”

Though he didn’t necessarily agree, Jouslain didn’t contradict the Clanner. He remembered how, as a boy, he had felt lonely without any brothers of his own. Driven by a sudden impulse, he asked:

“Will you not warn Zarlisch, Your Clanner Highness?”

The question drew a slight chuckle from the Clanner.

“If someone like Arses manages to usurp the duchy, then Zarlisch only amounted to that much. Thinking he could inherit Tytania’s legitimate heirship would be nothing more than a drunkard’s dream.”

The Tytania clan stood on its own two feet in the depths of the universe. Within the clan, every individual must likewise stand their own two feet. That was the ring of fierce flames that controlled Tytania. Should one fall, all would be consumed by fire.

“Lord Jouslain, if I were in your position, I would secretly incite Arses to overthrow Zarlisch. I would like you to answer honestly if you would do so.”

“I would do no such thing.”

“Hum…”

Ajman was asking “why not?” with his eyes. With a slight hesitation, Jouslain felt compelled to answer. Choosing his words carefully, he explained to the Clanner.

If he were to incite Arces against Zarlisch and then accuse Arses of the crime of overthrowing Zarlisch and purge him, Jouslain’s position would appear secure by eliminating both Zarlisch and Arses. But in reality, it wouldn’t be the case. Ariabert and Idris would still be alive and would feel uneasy at the fate of Zarlisch and his brother. Even if they were unable to have conclusive proof that Jouslain was behind the plot, they would be suspicious and strike first before Jouslain could strike them. As a result, Tytania would be split in two camps and plunge into civil war, leading to mutual destruction. Even if it wasn’t the conclusion, the victor’s strength would be severely weakened, and the anti-Tytanian factions would reap the benefits. While he didn’t deny the efficiency of this machination, bringing down a household in this manner would come back to strike him like a boomerang of destruction. Therefore, he wouldn’t resort to such a means.

That was Jouslain’s explanation.

“… Hail Tytania! Tytania, may you live eternally!”

Hearing the cheer, Ajman shook his hand in the air with an expression of annoyance and fixed his gaze straight at Jouslain. The intensity of that stare was enough to overwhelm the young Tytanian.

After a few moments during which the air seemed to liquefy, Ajman’s mouth turned into a distinct smile. But it was a smile of frozen soil, as he made no sound and his gaze didn’t soften the slightest. Jouslain remained rooted on the spot as he endured the shudder that was running through his entire body.


=== IV ===
The Minister of Military Affairs, Estrade Tytania, was on planet Ryutehi. He was raising his glass, sitting alone in the common room of his magnificent mansion, located barely 500 metres from the main gates of the Imperial Palace.

Though he looked slightly older than his 42 years, his handsome features and imposing stature gave him a bearing that surpassed that of most court nobles. His appearance was befitting of a Tytanian leading figure. His career was equally impressive, and the only thing he lacked compared to the four younger Dukes was their title.

But for him at this moment, honours and prestige were a source of discomfort. From the Minister of Military Affairs’ mouth flowed an endless stream of alcohol scent and low curses directed at Idris Tytania.

Idris was made commander of the Imperial Guard and held the rank of vice-admiral. Estrade was a full admiral and therefore higher than Idris in the military hierarchy. However, the Empire’s ranks took precedence over Tytania’s inner hierarchy. Within Tytania, he was a mere outsider and wasn’t allowed to attend the Supreme Council. But upstarts who were inferior to him in both reputation and experience were seated at the same council table as the Clanner.

In truth, Idris was a greenhorn who had never been of any concern to the Minister of Military Affairs. Whenever he met Estrade, he would stiffen and pay his respects to his senior. And yet, the moment he became a head of one of the Five Families, he grew arrogant and behaved in a manner that spurned the Minister of Military Affairs.

“Damn greenhorn, how dare he…!”

“Is it me whom you call a greenhorn, Father?”

A youthful voice with vitality and cool composure drifted from the doorway. Lifting his gaze from his cup, the Minister of Military Affairs looked at the person who spoke.

His eldest son, Viscount Balamy Tytania stood there holding a bottle of fresh wine. Dressed in a high-class Tytanian military uniform, he was 18 years old and already a commodore. With his golden-brown hair and pale violet eyes, his father believed him to be more intelligent than Jouslain, more handsome than Idris, and took great pride in him.

“I’m obviously not talking about you, but about our most welcome Duke.”

“Speaking of Dukes, hasn’t Duke Ariabert been campaigning for months in a row? While you were in the capital.”

“I am the Minister of Military Affairs. My duty keeps me in the capital to oversee the entire military. Leading fleets into battle is a task best left to mere admirals.”

“Father, do you truly believe what you have just said?”

His son’s voice was gentle but contained something more. A strange glimmer was dancing in his pale violet eyes. The father felt some of his intoxication leaving him, and he cleared his throat.

“What do you want to say? Are you insinuating something?”

Without directly answering his father, Balamy poured a liquid that was the colour of the blood pouring in his veins into a silver goblet. Once he was done pouring, he turned his violet gaze towards his father.

As half-manipulated, the Minister of Military Affairs reached out to take the silver goblet in his hand. A voice rich in rhythm flowed from his son’s lips.

“Five years ago, I believed that I was going to be the Landless Clanner’s son, and my heart was trembling with joy. But that position slipped out of your grasp and fell into the hands of Uncle Ajman. To me, there was no greater disappointment.”

The father groaned. He gulped down from his silver cup.

“Speak no more; it is a done deed.”

“Father, do you not feel a sense of emptiness in your hand?”

“… Balamy!”

“Why are you so startled? It is just something that wasn’t apparent until now. The blood of Tytania favours the blood of the clan. Such it has always been since the second generation’s head, His Highness Nuri.”

This fact that his father was well aware of, Balamy stated with deliberate gravitas.

“It is impossible for a holy person to rule over the universe. The abyss of the stars can only flatter the strong. As for the goddess of fate, she is but a whore.”

The father poured another crimson cascade into his silver goblet, where his son’s gaze fell. With a soft sigh, Balamy continued.

“The one I truly revere is the second-generation head, His Highness Nuri. With all due respect, the first-generation head, His Highness Neville, only knew how to subjugate the masses by force. The true foundation was laid by His Highness Nuri’s hands. And to pursue prosperity and the unity of the clan, he showed no mercy, not even to his own blood relatives…”

Suddenly, the Minister of Military Affairs let out a forced laugh, cutting his son’s eloquent speech. He hurled on the carpet the silver goblet and its half-empty content.

“How strange, Balamy. You never touch a drop of alcohol, but his evening you seem to be even drunker than I am.”

“It is a special skill of mine. Weren’t you aware of it, Father?”

With a calm expression, the son picked up the silver goblet his father had thrown. Casting a cold glance at the nebula-like stain that was spreading across the carpet, he returned the goblet to his father with a smile. As if he were rolling in the palm of his hands like a ball, his father’s state of mind, he whispered with even more fervour.

“If you are at peace with the fact that you didn’t become the Clanner, then there is no need for me to say anything. But Father, are you truly at peace with that? From the bottom, do you truly believe that your abilities are inferior to those of your younger brother?”

“I told you to shut up.”

Though he was giving an order, the voice of Estrade Tytania was feeble. He was no coward. Either in the usual meaning of the word or in the one given by Clanner Ajman to Jouslain. And yet, though he didn’t want to admit it, at that moment cold sweat was trickling down the walls of his heart.

There was a deep and vast chasm between discontent and rebellion. Leaping across it required no small amount of mental energy, and it was precisely what the court nobles of the Vardana Empire lacked. And even for the Minister of Military Affairs, the Marquis Estrade Tytania, the leap was by no means easy.

The son observed his father’s internal conflict with detachment but eventually resumed his dreadful persuasion. He did not appeal to his father’s courage but to his fear.

“Are you content to grow old like this?”

That question was a terrifying pronouncement.

“If I may be bold to say so, Father, you are already over forty and well into the second half of your life. You cannot possibly compete with the next generation’s Four Dukes to become the Clanner. In twenty years, the Four Dukes will still be in their forties, while you will be in your sixties, and it is unheard of in our history for the successor to be older than the current head of the family. No one would support it.”

The Minister of Military Affairs felt his deepest convictions being laid bare by his son. He took a deep breath and attempted a cunning-sounding reply.

“To begin with, why do you think that I desire the title of Clanner?”

But that was not enough to intimidate his son.

“Tytanian blood taught me that much. It tells me that rather than stand by and watch, I should take it by force. That blood comes from you, Father. How could I fail to understand your heart?”

Estrade felt defeat. It wasn’t accompanied by a sense of humiliation but a lightness as if he had removed some armour of Antiquity.

“Being ambitious is good. But achieving it is not easy. It requires extraordinary resolve. Do you understand?”

His voice sounded like the creaks of an armour being cast aside.

“I’ll tell you this: the courtiers of Vardana cannot be trusted. I suspect they are trying to use me, but the moment things become dangerous, they will betray me in an instant. I need to find other allies than these guys.”

“Yes, Father, I am well aware.”

“None of the Four Dukes are ordinary men. Never underestimate them. Especially not Duke Jouslain. He is a man of curious depth.”

“Since you are talking in this fashion, Father, can I assume that we are of the same mind? I can take it to mean so, can’t I?”

The demand was clear. Or rather, though phrased as a question, it was a statement of fact. At that juncture, Estrade seemed to falter for a moment, but it was just a moment. With dignity, the Minister of Military Affairs nodded.

“Even if I tried to restrain you, you wouldn’t stay still. I shall go with you. But let me say this again. This is no easy path. Even if you start having regrets, you can’t go back midway.”

Thus, Marquis Estrade Tytania, the Minister of Military Affairs of the Vardana Empire, was dragged along by his son as he set foot on a bloody path.