Editing Tytania:Volume 5 Chapter 2

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== Chapter 2 – The Athletes of the Wandering Race ==
=== I ===
It was generally believed that the main appeal of a pirate’s feast, though somewhat vulgar, lay in it being cheerful and lively. However, once it strayed from that path, alcohol was consumed gloomily, and nothing followed but heavy, morose conversation.

“I never imagined Duke Ariabert would meet such an end.”

“It would have been one thing if he had died in battle.”

“But the possibility of assassination was even being considered.”

There was nothing to distinguish these conversations from those of ordinary law-abiding citizens. The dining room of the ''Honest Old Man Junior'', the flagship of the Blaze Flag Army, felt half like a haunted mansion.

“Clanner Ajman is truly a terrifying man.”

“Terrifying? I don’t see it that way. What a petty bastard. When he saw there was no chance of winning in a fair fight, he resorted to the cheap tactic of assassination. And he even used a child to do it.”

“I agree with Hyulick. I thought he would be a more dignified ruler, but he’s unexpectedly small-minded.”

Doctor Lee shook his head.

“Miranda, that is exactly what makes the Clanner terrifying. To be seen as petty, despised, or hated—he doesn’t give any of that a second thought. He eliminated the strongest enemy commander with absolute ruthlessness and efficiency. There is no one more frightening than a person who possesses the power to achieve their goals without regard for their reputation or the means used.”

He placed his small mug of dark beer upon the table.

“Today, Duke Ariabert was murdered using such a method. Tomorrow, there is no way to predict who will be killed or how. Those associated with Tytania must feel as though they are constantly on edge.”

“In short, it is a reign of terror. If Duke Idris decides to strike first to prevent being struck himself, I shall find myself reconsidering my opinion of that arrogant nobleman.”

Doctor Lee gazed at the foam clinging to the rim of his mug.

“Do you know what the greatest happiness in life is? Ah, let me clarify, it is not being able to eat a superb omelette every day. That lacks too much universality.”

Having been outmanoeuvred, Hyulick exhaled a breath heavy with the scent of alcohol.

“I suppose ‘it depends on the person’ won’t suffice as an answer?”

“It is nothing short of a miracle that I have not given up on you. For almost all human beings, the greatest happiness is the ability to always make the best possible choice.”

Mahdi let out an eerie laugh.

“Isn’t that what they call a pipe dream? It is no easy task to choose the best bank based on interest rates and customer service.”

“I sympathise with you Mahdi, but in the end, you chose this path yourself.”

Miranda spoke with irony as she picked up the stack of papers resting on the table. It was the latest news output from the general-purpose computer.

“The Clanner has rescinded the decree, then.”

“… Anything goes, it seems. It will hold no weight, neither legally nor morally.”

“It holds weight precisely because it is Tytania.”

“… To dispatch an envoy and present such favourable terms, only to kill Duke Ariabert the very next moment…”

Fan Hyulick excelled above all others in unconventional tactics, yet his political views and ideologies were utterly mediocre—though he himself described them as “sound”. Consequently, regarding Clanner Ajman’s assassination of Ariabert, he felt nothing but pure loathing.

Doctor Lee flicked the side of his tankard with his fingertip.

“This is merely the alcohol speaking, so there is no need to take it seriously, but what do you think, Hyulick? If you find the Clanner distasteful, why not simply side with Duke Jouslain?”

To side with Duke Jouslain.

It had never even crossed his mind. Or perhaps, in the depths of his subconscious, such a thought had been writhing. To begin with, he had never harboured any ill will towards Jouslain Tytania personally. Well, the same went for the late Ariabert Tytania, but as someone being pursued by the Tytania as a whole, he was not in a position to give such matters serious thought. Had that moment finally arrived, then? Doctor Lee had said it was merely the alcohol talking, but…

“No, but wait a minute. Even if we were inclined to do so, would they even accept it? Even if we say we are siding with Duke Jouslain, the ones he is actually leading are Duke Ariabert’s men.”

“You did well noticing that.”

“Of course I noticed! I’ve fought him three times, after all.”

“You came out on top with two wins and one loss. That’s quite an achievement.”

“Hmph, it was more like a sneak attack.”

“No need to disparage yourself. Duke Ariabert accepted his defeats with grace, and it would actually be quite rude to him to belittle yourself. I doubt they hate the Clanner any less than they hate you.”

“If they had challenged him to a fair fight, it might have been one thing, but this was an assassination. And using a child to do it, no less. They must have thought that removing Duke Ariabert would sap their will to fight. But, unfortunately for them…”

“It was a textbook example of backfiring.”

“Honestly, out of every thousand, every ten thousand people, all would think the same. The Clanner truly did something stupid.”

“Was it stupid?”

“Should I use a more refined term like ‘foolish’, Doctor?”

“It is not a matter of phrasing. It is a matter of motive.”

“Motive…?”

“To go so far as to commit an act that everyone would deem foolish. It isn’t simply Duke Ariabert’s subordinates who must find it distasteful, but even Duke Idris himself.”

Doctor Lee took on a pensive expression.

“Sometimes, I find myself thinking this: the Clanner might be intentionally creating circumstances disadvantageous to Tytania.”

“No way.”

“When you look at it that way, many things start to make sense.”

“Do they? It might seem so if you only look at his outward actions, but what would his motives be? Why would the Sovereign of Tytania engage in deeds that undermine his own power?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking.”

“Don’t get defensive. You’re the one who always insists that there can be no conclusion without evidence.”

When Hyulick provoked him, Doctor Lee responded with a laugh, though the gloominess had significantly diminished.

“It seems my beer has gone lukewarm. I haven’t even taken a sip yet. Would anyone like it? Now then, Hyulick, I haven’t reached a conclusion just yet. So, let me ask you this: if Duke Jouslain were to resort to the most extreme measures, to what extent do you think we would have a chance at victory?”

“Extreme measures?”

“A full-scale offensive with all available forces, an assault on Uraniborg.”

“An assault on Uraniborg? Like urban warfare!?”

A hint of a scream tinged Mahdi’s voice. Miranda chimed in as well:

“The number of civilian casualties would be enormous. No, even before that, I cannot imagine Duke Jouslain would even consider such a thing. It annoys me to say it, but he’s a man with common sense.”

“How many troops can Uraniborg’s side deploy for urban warfare?”

When Hyulick asked that question, Miranda pulled out a dedicated tablet.

“If we only count the mobile infantry specialised in ground combat, it would be around one hundred thousand. They likely never anticipated being invaded. If they mobilise the fleet’s crew, it might be ten times that amount.”

“And Jouslain’s side?”

“Well, their side is also at a maximum of one hundred thousand. I cannot quite gauge the extent of their amphibious assault capabilities.”

“If they were to settle this in outer space, strictly outside of Uraniborg…”

As Hyulick carefully chose his words while deep in thought, Mahdi interrupted him:

“From Duke Jouslain’s perspective, a withdrawal strategy might make sense.”

“Hmm, and what would he do after retreating?”

“He could establish a base in some suitable planetary nation, resupply his food and energy, refit the fleet, and start anew.”

“It remains to be seen which side time will favour. Besides, what would he do if the forces from Uraniborg pursued them during their retreat?”

“That is precisely the point.”

Mahdi casually pulled the tankard placed before Doctor Lee towards himself.

“So? Do you want to know?”

“I can tell that you are eager to speak.”

“Well, if you have an idea, I suppose I could listen.”

Mahdi did not seem to mind the passive atmosphere.

“In short, he can counterattack as they pursue. He can advance in an inverted V-formation, then, at the opportune moment, turn around all at once. And this time, encircle the forces of Uraniborg in a V-shape and annihilate them. What do you think?”




=== II ===
“I don’t think it’s a bad plan, but it is far too technical. If a single error is made, the formation would collapse during his turn. Duke Jouslain would be the one who would end up being annihilated.”

“Well, it’s an apple pie in the sky<ref name="ftn4">This is an alteration of the Japanese expression “a picture of a rice cake” (something that looks nice and impressive but lacks any actual utility) to “a picture of an apple pie”.</ref>.”

Miranda agreed with Hyulick.

“If we could win every time just by moving according to the tactical computer’s calculations, human commanders would be unnecessary.”

“Exactly as Miranda says.”

Doctor Lee nodded. Computers could provide answers based on records and calculations. In other words, a tactic that ignores precedent is “unforeseen”, and therefore, a computer couldn’t respond to it.

“After all, we have a living specimen right here among us, do we not?”

The “specimen” ran his hands through his carrot-coloured hair and glared sullenly at the screen. Far beyond the five suns, a small cloud of light was swirling. It was the fleet of the AJ Alliance—now consisting of only J—encircling Uraniborg. How would he move if he were inside that cloud of light? Hyulick thought vaguely, his brain cells submerged in a pool of alcohol.

“In the end, Doctor, which side does a war of attrition actually disadvantage?”

“That is a good question, Miranda. What do you think yourself?”

“Honestly, you never give a straight answer. It is quite frustrating.”

“We have been acquainted for a long time. I want to hear your thoughts first.”

When Miranda looked towards her mute husband, Captain Casimir gave a laughing nod. Miranda shrugged and set her own mug down on the table with a thud.

“Men tend to flock together instantly, which makes them such a troublesome lot… But oh well. Right now, Uraniborg is besieged and isolated, but as long as the source of power and authority—that is, the Clanner—remains, they hold the advantage.”

Miranda turned her eyes towards the cloud of light as well.

“The method they used was utterly unfair, but regardless, Uraniborg managed to assassinate Duke Ariabert and eliminate their greatest threat, didn’t they? Even if Duke Jouslain opts for a war of attrition here, how will it appear to the eyes of others? It might only look like indecisiveness.”

The public and the media both craved a spectacular, decisive battle. At Miranda’s words, Doctor Lee nodded twice.

“Very well, Miranda. Then let us consider seriously. How to force a decisive battle?”



The interior of Uraniborg was thick with a sense of suffocation. Even more so than the civilians, the Tytania mobile infantry were preoccupied with rumours. It was hardly surprising, given that they were on a war footing yet had nothing to do for the time being.

“I want Tytania to survive,” a young voice whispered. “I mean, if Tytania disappears, where would we go? What would we even do?”

“There are plenty of places that need mercenaries.”

“If something were to happen to the upper management too…”

“We are already in the middle of it. What’s the point of using the subjunctive?”

“Don’t nitpick. Hmph, true, even in the midst of a crisis, the routine for the low-ranking grunts doesn’t change.”

The sounds of helmets and rifles clashing echoed. Silence would pass through only when a grim-faced NCO marched by, but it never lasted for more than a minute.

“Not all planets are self-sufficient. On my home world, all we can grow are sunflowers and cotton. With five hundred thousand people we’d all starve to death.”

“Why grow only sunflowers and cotton?”

“This is why dealing with the uneducated is such a nuisance. The soil in my home world is high in salt. Sunflowers and cotton are pretty good at absorbing salt, so they’re necessary for soil reclamation.”

“How am I supposed to know that? I’m just a city boy from Ementhal.”

Throughout the universe, conversations of all kinds, useful or useless, harmful or harmless, were being exchanged. The uncertainty of an invisible future made people loquacious.

“''Pax Tytaniana''” had brought peace and prosperity to all human society. It was a fact that, despite the boredom and the gap between the rich and the poor, peace and prosperity had continued in the aggregate for two centuries. Consequently, most people desired to maintain the ''status quo'' and feared change, but now that change appeared to be unavoidable, the prevailing sentiment was that they simply wished for the storm to pass quickly so that peace might be restored.



“You are handing Zelpha over!?” interrogated Balamy as if shouting.

Jouslain replied curtly:

“That is correct.”

“Unharmed?”

“Of course… it’s not as if I intended to hand him over with his ears or nose sliced off.”

Balamy let out a ragged breath.

“Stop making such terrible jokes.”

“Sorry.”

Balamy pursed his lips after receiving another brief answer, but to Francia, who stood beside him, it felt as though the sound of a click of his tongue had filled the room.

“In form, this would mean we are succumbing to Duke Idris’ intimidation.”

“Outward appearances matter not. I have absolutely no intention of making this matter public.”

Jouslain turned his entire body towards Balamy.

“The Clanner has forced us to handle not only the assassination of Ariabert but the disposal of the assassin as well. How we deal with Zelpha is our business.”

Jouslain tapped the armrest with his fingertips.

“That is why I shall hand that boy over to Idris. It is for both our sakes, rather than keeping him detained here.”

“But will Duke Ariabert’s men accept this? They are seething with hatred and a desire for vengeance.”

“They know who the true culprit is,” pointed out calmly Jouslain. “There is no point in punishing the tool rather than the true culprit. If we were to punish it, the only option would be an execution for murder. That would only serve to corner us. People will wonder if we are really going to execute a child.”

Francia placed her hand gently upon her master’s shoulder.

“If there is something you wish to say, then say it. It is not as if I believe my choice is the best one.”

Balamy steadied his breathing and his tone.

“Then, if I may, I was under the impression that you intended to use Zelpha’s life as a bargaining chip in your dealings with Duke Idris.”

“Naturally… that was my intention at first.”

“Then…”

“However, I was forced to abandon this idea. The ruler of Uraniborg is the Clanner, not Idris. The Clanner would never agree to such a deal. To the Clanner, Zelpha’s life is a trivial thing. You understand that, don’t you?”

Balamy understood. The very act of sending Zelpha into the jaws of death as an assassin spoke volumes of the Clanner’s cold, calculating will.

“I am sorry to have disappointed you, Lord Balamy, but at this moment, I have no means of shattering the Clanner’s icy resolve. Therefore, I intend to release the boy quickly. While I do not know the Clanner’s true intentions, for now, it will at least save me the trouble of looking after him.”

Balamy groaned.

“And what will become of Zelpha once he has returned safely?”

“Idris might hold an award ceremony or a party for him.”

Jouslain replied with a hint of boredom, and, almost unconsciously, placed his palm over Francia’s.

At present, he was nothing more than a mere cynic. A vital part of his very core had slipped out of place and wandered off. He had no right to be entrusted with tens or hundreds of thousands of lives. Though he had resolved to fight, if he were to fail, he would only lead Ariabert’s brave and elite soldiers to a hollow death. And if he were to win? While Ariabert was still alive, it had seemed as though there were more tasks to be accomplished after victory than there were stars in the sky, but now that his half-brother was gone, his ideas and visions had grown wings and flown away. “My plans have turned into pigeons<ref name="ftn5">“Pigeon” (鳩) is pronounced “pigeon”.</ref>”—it was quite laughable. He even went so far as to think that if he were to simply kneel before the Clanner, he might let him decide his fate for him.

In short, Jouslain had not yet recovered from Ariabert’s death. In a sense, it was only natural. Only six hours had passed since “that moment”. Nothing had been decided regarding Princess Lydia or Francia, either.

The tense voice of the communications officer pierced through Jouslain’s heart, which was on the verge of sinking into an infinite twilight.

“We have an incoming transmission from the Blaze Flag Army.”

Jouslain instinctively exchanged a glance with Balamy.




=== III ===
“The message says, ‘We wish to consult with His Ducal Grace Jouslain Tytania regarding a certain matter’.”

Jouslain raised a hand to silence Balamy just as he was about to speak.

“Regarding this ‘certain matter’, do they mention anything specific?”

“Y-yes.”

“Let me hear it.”

“… They say, ‘We wish to take Baronet Zelpha Tytania into our custody’.”

“What—!?”

It was Balamy who let out a cry of astonishment, while Jouslain remained silent, gazing at the communications officer’s face. The officer exaggerated his expression of bewilderment, searching the duke’s eyes for guidance.

“How shall I respond?”

“I will provide the reply. Activate the interception prevention system, then establish the video link.”

“Yes sir.”

“However, ensure that everyone’s face is pixelated except for mine.”

He did not want to reveal the presence of Francia and the others to an opponent who could be neither identified as friend nor foe. After a struggle between emotion and reason, Jouslain received the Blaze Flag Army’s transmission with an attitude that was, surprisingly, quite composed.

The feeling was mutual. This was because the opponent had also pixelated everyone in the frame except for a single person positioned directly in front of the screen. He was a young man of Jouslain’s generation, with black hair and an intelligent face. However, that intelligence did not appear to follow a straight path.

“I am profoundly honoured that you have granted me this audience. My name is Lee Shanchen. You must be His Ducal Grace Jouslain.”

“Correct. I have received an interesting proposal from you, but do you really intend to purchase Zelpha’s freedom with money?”

“If you were to gain material profit by handing over Baronet Zelpha, it would constitute human trafficking. Your honour would be tarnished. It is precisely because we ask for no compensation that the goodwill of both parties may prevail.”

Behind the mosaic, Balamy shifted, and Jouslain wore an expression that stopped just short of a wry smile.

“You seem to be a master of rhetoric.”

“You may clearly call it outright sophistry.”

“Had you belonged to Tytania, you would have surely flourished in the Department of Foreign Affairs… No, I suppose that the fact that I bring up Tytania at the drop of a hat shows my limits.”

A sharp intensity flashed through Jouslain’s eyes and voice.

“I shall ask you something quite unrefined, but what are you plotting?”

Doctor Lee replied with an air of utmost seriousness:

“To be honest, we too are conflicted about our course of action regarding this matter. We considered keeping our distance and remaining uninvolved, but given the circumstances thus far, we found that impossible. As we are of little consequence to begin with, we have decided to take a leap of faith and side with Your Grace.”

“To side with me? Those are sweet words.”

“Since the Blaze Flag Army has a rather strict aunty… I mean, older sister, I do not believe it is a suitable environment for a child’s upbringing. I implore you to place your trust in us and allow us to look after the Baronet.”

Something moved behind the mosaic of the screen. It was Miranda, waving her hands in a panic. Jouslain paid it no mind.

“A killer cannot return to being a child. Whether he is thirteen, ten, or younger, it matters not.”

“I believe your insight is correct, Your Grace, but…”

Doctor Lee’s gaze was that of a scholar observing a subject.

“Surely, you cannot bring yourself to execute a thirteen-year-old boy.”

“Why do you think so?”

“You must know why. If you were to do such a thing, Your Grace, you would descend to the same standards as your enemies. It would be contrary to your wishes.”

Jouslain gave a silent laugh. It was likely exactly what his opponent had expected, but he did not mind.

“Standards, eh? You’re being harshly sarcastic. I believe Tytania’s standard of morality is somewhat removed from that of the common people.”

“A slip of the tongue. Please pardon me.”

“I shan’t pardon you—that was no slip of the tongue. Even a fool like myself can see that you are a shrewd man.”

“Your Grace…”

“I am not merely being self-deprecating. It is a disgraceful display that I am unable to decide even how to deal with the life of a single child. If you have any other advice to offer, I shall listen.”

Doctor Lee cleared his throat.

“This matter must absolutely be kept secret. I believe that the location of Baronet Zelpha must never be known to the Uraniborg faction.”

“That is certainly true. It would become quite troublesome if it were discovered. However, and I hope this won’t offend you, I wish to hold something in return to guarantee Zelpha’s safety. I do not believe this is an unreasonable request, but what say you?”

A smile befitting Mephistopheles’ disciple appeared on Doctor Lee’s face.

“Regarding that point, I am prepared to entrust a certain individual to Your Grace in exchange for Baronet Zelpha.”

“What individual?”

“He is a man with low social skills who holds a childish love for omelettes, but he may still prove of some use to Your Grace Jouslain.”

“… Admiral Fan Hyulick?”

“You are most perceptive.”

Doctor Lee spoke without a hint of irony or mockery and offered a thoroughly serious bow.



Doctor Lee had demonstrated extraordinary processing power by concluding a “business deal” with Duke Jouslain Tytania that could only be described as absurd, but the person who had been used as bargaining material was far from appeased.

“Listen, Hyulick, Duke Jouslain’s unit was under the command of Duke Ariabert. You are lucky. Had they been former subordinates of Duke Zarlisch, you would have been turned into the filling for a giant omelette while still alive.”

“How exactly is that lucky? You used a person as a bargaining chip without permission. What would you have done if I’d been turned into a fried egg instead of an omelette? If you intend to toy with Duke Jouslain, that is one thing, but…”

“Hyulick, while I might be able to handle just you, turning Duke Jouslain into a plaything is more than I can manage. I expect you to assist Duke Jouslain with the utmost sincerity.”

“And will the other party even trust me?”

“That depends entirely on your character. For now, the negotiations are settled. Hallelujah!”

Uttering a celebratory phrase so ancient that its origins were unknown, Doctor Lee patted Hyulick on the shoulder. The young carrot-top brushed the hand away with an annoyed expression, then asked in a sulky tone:

“So, am I going alone?”

“You’re an adult, aren’t you?”

“That’s a completely different issue! Besides, what do you intend to do after taking custody of Baronet Zelpha? Are you planning to sell him off somewhere?”

“Human trafficking is not part of the Blaze Flag Army’s tradition.”

“It’s a matter of tradition?”

“Well, although we sided with Uraniborg recently and had everything ruined by young master Radmoth, this time, I shall have to consider how best to utilise young master Zelpha for Duke Jouslain’s sake.”

“Then, how will our position be described? Unscrupulous traitors?”

“No, no, there is no need to be so self-deprecating,” declared Doctor Lee solemnly. “We are the champions of justice who shall overthrow the tyrant Ajman.”

Hyulick fell silent. He was intensely furious with both Doctor Lee and Clanner Ajman, though the nature of his anger was not the same for each.

Towards Ajman, he felt a sense of loathing for his political methods and an indefinable, creeping eeriness. Towards Doctor Lee, though he found it strange himself, he felt an impulse that might be satisfied by a single well-placed slap. While he should have suffered more actual harm from Doctor Lee, it was unclear why, perhaps because he viewed Clanner Ajman as their shared, common enemy.

“Whatever happens, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

In the end, despite his immense dissatisfaction, Hyulick accepted Doctor Lee’s “business proposal”.



Meanwhile, in the VIP lounge of the battleship ''Austra'', Baronet Zelpha Tytania was glaring at a remnant of his sworn enemy—

“Has my fate been decided?”

“I have decided.”

The perceptive boy noticed that Jouslain had not used the phrasing “it has been decided<ref name="ftn6">Essentially, Zelpha has noted that Jouslain used the transitive (決める “to decide”) rather than the intransitive (決まる “to be decided”).</ref>”. He tried his utmost to keep his expression unchanged, but he could not prevent his face from turning pale. There was no way he would be released unconditionally. He had been prepared for the death penalty, but to have it stated so explicitly, it was only natural that he felt terror.

“I am handing you over to the Blaze Flag Army. You know what the Blaze Flag Army is, don’t you? They are notorious space pirates who temporarily joined forces with your beloved brother.”

For a moment, Zelpha wore an expression of bewildered confusion, and despite himself, his gaze darted to the sides of Jouslain. He could read nothing from the faces of the poised Balamy and Francia.

“I am a Tytanian noble.”

“And?”

“I would rather die with my pride intact than be sold off to pirates. Kill me!”

Jouslain looked Zelpha straight in the eye. Zelpha was excessively sharp, intense, and heated. To put it coldly, there was no need to kill him. He would likely destroy himself before ever reaching adulthood.

“A fitting end for a murderer, wouldn’t you say? What have you done to an opponent who trusted you and showed you every courtesy? You may praise yourself all you like, but your methods were nothing short of cowardly.”

Sweat glistened on Zelpha’s brow.

Jouslain could not tell if the reason he was handing Zelpha over to the pirates was because he hated the boy so much or because he didn’t hate him but had a feeling that it was a “waste to kill him”. His hatred for Clanner Ajman remained frozen like a flame, refusing to lose its shape.

“Do you understand, you coward? During your stay with the pirates, try to become at least as human as they are.”

Zelpha glared at Jouslain without a sound. His gaze was like a volley of fierce arrows. This was exactly what Francia and Balamy had expected. However, something occurred that exceeded their expectations.

A liquid that was not sweat overflowed from both of Zelpha’s eyes, trickling down his cheeks and mingling with his perspiration. The single word “coward” had caused the ramparts of the boy’s heart to collapse.




=== IV ===
It was said that a “peaceful democracy” had never existed since ancient times. It was described as “a vibrant debate to put it charitably, the height of chaos to put it less favourably”, it sometimes even escalated into physical altercations, with eggs and shoes flying through the air. Nevertheless, because it was deemed preferable to “silent dictatorship” or “bloody tyranny,” hundreds of millions of organisations and groups from great and small nations to pirates all wore the formal necktie of democracy.

The Blaze Flag Army was no exception. Even among those who brazenly styled themselves as “Warriors of Freedom” or “Gentlemen of the Dark Nebula”, sparks of verbal conflict flew. The loudest voice, however, belonged to Mr&nbsp;Mahdi.

“What on earth are they thinking… We went to all the trouble of driving out young Radmoth to restore a modest peace, only to bring back a pampered Tytania scion once again.”

“He’s much cuter than Radmoth, isn’t he?”

“Hmph. That cute rich kid went and assassinated the greatest commander in the universe. There’s no telling what he might do on this ship either. What will we do if he harms someone?”

Doctor Lee nodded heavily.

“Indeed, that is a valid point.”

“Right? So…”

“That is why we shall assign him an attendant to look after him.”

“An attendant will only serve to pamper him!”

“Well, you could say that. As long as he is educated with proper discipline, it will be fine.”

“… Hey, wait a minute!”

“Therefore, I hereby appoint former Lieutenant Mahdi as the person in charge of Baronet Zelpha’s rehabilitation and education. Does anyone object?”

Mahdi leapt up, intending to roar in protest, but his angry shout was drowned out by an overwhelming wave of voices crying, “No objections!”

“My, democracy certainly is a wonderful thing.”

Doctor Lee wore a smile reminiscent of Mephistopheles, and with a devilish grin, even directed it towards Walenkov, who was considered relatively good-natured.

“I beg of you, Mr&nbsp;Mahdi, please teach the boy that earning money is a far more meaningful way to live than killing people.”

“And that this is for his own sake, as well as all mankind.”

Between the arguments and the verbal sparring, the ''Honest Old Man Junior'' approached the Jouslain fleet surrounding Uraniborg, as silently as a lion and as boldly as a hyena. The objective was to take custody of Zelpha Tytania. There was, however, another equally important purpose.

On the bridge of the ''Austra'', Duke Jouslain Tytania gathered a small group of high-ranking officers, including Balamy, and made his announcement.

“Once Zelpha has been handed over, we shall resume combat. All ships, transition to semi-A-class battle formation immediately!”

Rear-admiral Mittendorf, Rear-admiral Magnorton, Commodore Yuan, and Commodore Durey responded with tense salutes. The four of them had only just been struck with astonishment by the announcement that Zelpha would be handed over to the Blaze Flag Army.



“That bastard Jouslain, what is he thinking?” muttered Idris to himself, standing before the screen, bathed in the blue and white light of the stars.

It was pointless to try to calculate how many hours it had been since he last slept, so he did not bother. Though he was exhausted, his body was filled with a strange energy, and he had no intention of resting. He felt as though his body was brimming with an excess of heat, yet the cold air gathered around him like beads of frost, stimulating his senses. His eyes, which stared fixedly at the countless points of light, large and small, looked as though they were bloodshot.

“Zelpha is somewhere within that fleet… If only I could determine where…”

Idris bit the inside of his lower lip. As long as Zelpha remained in Jouslain’s grasp, it was impossible to launch an indiscriminate attack upon the enemy.

Although he had attempted to use words that bordered on threats against Jouslain, he knew they would have no effect. What Idris feared most, however, was that by taking Zelpha hostage, Jouslain would force him to accept a peace treaty. It was only natural; if Idris were Jouslain, he would do the same. He would impose terms of extreme severity. Yet, for Idris to accede to those negotiations in order to save Zelpha would mean removing himself from the Clanner’s seat forever.

In the first place, there was no way Clanner Ajman would approve of surrendering to the enemy without a fight. The sense of awe that loomed beyond his hatred had not vanished.

Clanner Ajman had retreated once more into his inviolable sanctuary, vanishing from sight. Before the closed doors, Idris could do nothing but stand frozen.

''“I have dealt with Ariabert. Now, try to handle the rest on your own,”'' is likely what the Clanner would say.

Yet, in exchange for Ariabert’s life, his beloved younger brother, Zelpha, had fallen into the hands of the enemy. The life of Zelpha was clearly of no concern to the Clanner. To Idris, the uncertainty surrounding Zelpha’s safety felt like an especially piercing shard of ice.

At that moment, Idris’ inner universe was filled with a whirlwind of passion, and even he could not predict how it would run rampant once it focused upon a single direction.

“Regardless, we cannot afford to fall any further behind in battle.”

If even a single other part of Uraniborg were to sustain damage, ten million citizens would fall into a panic. Allocating troops to manage such an occurrence would leave the defences against the enemy even more depleted. He had to demonstrate a posture of primary engagement in a way that was visible to all.

Idris summoned the newly appointed interception commander, Vice-Admiral Ridenhour, and informed him of a certain matter that left him utterly astonished.

“Do you intend to board the ''Black Prince''?”

“Shouldn’t I?”

“With all due respect, if the ''Black Prince'' were to set out under the current circumstances, it would be met with concentrated fire the moment it cleared the harbour gates. I judge it to be far too dangerous.”

Idris stared intently at the Vice-Admiral.

“I appreciate the warning, but is it a vessel that would be destroyed by mere concentrated fire?”

“No, that is not quite… I mean…”

“I did not say I would board it immediately. I merely said to have it prepared so that I can board at any time. Is that understood?”

“As you wish…”

As Vice-Admiral Ridenhour departed with the composure befitting a high-ranking officer, another person appeared as if in his stead. It was the Countess Theodora Tytania.

“It seems the final battle is about to begin. What are our chances of victory?”

Idris gave a low laugh.

“If I gave you a blank canvas, Theodora, I suppose you would produce a decent enough painting. Unfortunately, however, the majority of the picture is already finished. All that you and I can do, at most, is adding a bit of colour.”

Theodora looked at Idris with surprise. In truth, she was indeed surprised.

“You speak with the flair of an artist.”

“Hmph. If I told you that I wanted to be a painter when I was a child, would you believe me?”

As Theodora remained silent, Idris continued, his words sounding like a monologue.

“Well, I do not care for your opinion, but there was something utterly inexplicable. When you mix all colours together, they become black. No matter how many times I tried, this is what happened. There was no other way to approach it. Therefore, the only option left was to absorb every colour and master the essence of black.”

“… Do you intend to depart in person? At last?”

“There is no point in keeping the ''Black Prince'' moored any longer. That ship is the very pinnacle of black.”

“One cannot blame the late Duke Zarlisch, then.”

“What? What is that supposed to mean?”

Theodora looked at Idris with a calculating smile.

“You used to mock Duke Zarlisch quite often. You said he was a slave to his hysterical mother, that he couldn’t distinguish between public and private affairs, that his cause was secondary to the greater good, and whether someone like him was truly fit to be the Clanner.”

“…”

“I wonder about that. For you, who aspire to be the next Clanner of Tytania, did you not hesitate to engage in the final battle because you were so concerned for your younger brother?”

“That is in the past. Enough. I did not summon you here, so leave at once and go splash some perfume on that invisible tail of yours.”



Every five or ten minutes, the tension among the soldiers continued to rise. In proportion to that, they repeated the same topics, attempting to soothe their own anxieties.

“I never imagined Duke Ariabert would die in such a manner.”

“I certainly didn’t.”

“That just wasn’t right. He was an enemy commander, true, but he was a fine man.”

“I served in his fleet for about two years once; he was a very pleasant person…”

“Hey, everyone, why so gloomy!?”

An unnaturally cheerful voice drifted through the gaps in their helmets.

“The greatest threat has been eliminated. Only Duke Jouslain remains, but there is no way he possesses the same tactical prowess as Duke Ariabert. We have won.”

“…”

“What’s wrong? Celebrate!”

A storm of rebuttals instantly swirled through the ranks.

“How can we celebrate, you reckless fool!?”

“It isn’t as if we fought with honour and took Duke Ariabert’s head ourselves.”

“What is there to be happy about, having our great achievement snatched away by a mere child of some twelve-thirteen years?”

The motorised infantry, who were being nudged from both sides and tapped on their helmets, raised their voices in discontent.

“Then, are you implying that we won through cowardly means?”

“Are you suggesting that what happened was a fair tactic?”

“Hmph. You might have a point. But if that’s the case, why don’t you go tell Duke Idris exactly that!?”

In an instant, a chill descended upon the scene. The soldiers exchanged glances, but no matter which face they looked upon, they could find no expression of hope. Their courage, their fighting spirit, their animosity, and even their pride had fallen into a state of suspended animation. To bolster their morale, they would have needed a grand, almost magical speech, or a tangible, decisive victory, or perhaps something even greater. However, none of those things seemed likely to arrive in the near future.

The soldiers of Uraniborg possessed an arrogance born of their immense pride in being members of the Tytania regime. That pride was lost because the very best part of Tytania had vanished with the untimely death of Ariabert. Those who anchored their self-esteem in external factors were prone to losing their identities easily through the collapse of an organisation or the death of a superior. Consequently, it stood to reason that the officers and men, who had derived their pride from being “under the command of Duke Ariabert,” would fall into despair and disband; yet, it was precisely because the opposite phenomenon occurred that the “Uraniborg Incident” was so peculiar.

In short, what the troops of the Uraniborg army required was a supreme commander possessing a charisma equal to that of the late Ariabert, but Idris had not yet proven himself to be such a man.



In a corner of the Clanner’s manor, where officers and officials were scurrying about in a state of commotion, a woman dressed in an out-of-place, pale lilac gown was stumbling along. She was the Duchess Theresa Tytania.

“Come to think of it, Zarlisch wasn’t such a bad boy… his only flaw was that his features were a bit rough-looking…”

The Duchess’ voice, which wavered in pitch, drifted through the room upon the heavy scent of rum.

A noblewoman permitted to bear the Tytania name ought to have been a symbol of nobility and grace, but that was already a lost cause. Had Zarlisch merely remained alive, she would surely have been accorded the respect due to his mother; yet now, Duchess Theresa Tytania was nothing more than a nuisance to the doctors and nurses, a subject of ridicule and pity for every Tytania-related person from the highest to the lowest rank.

The only things that indicated her former nobility were the pale lilac dress made of the finest Meishan silk and the jewels pressed into her thick neck and fingers; even her hair was no longer elegantly arranged. In her right hand, she clutched a bottle of rum.

As the lady stumbled along her path, a middle-aged man dressed in an expensive-looking suit appeared before her. It was Count Elman Tytania.

Count Elman attempted to turn on his heel swiftly. He had no intention of getting involved with Theresa. Even without this, he had already incurred Idris’ displeasure regarding the matter of the Blaze Flag Army. He had intended to establish himself as the person holding full authority in negotiations with the pirate factions, acting, so to speak, as a minister of foreign affairs during wartime. However, his worldly yet healthy ambition had been crushed by the combination of those unscrupulous pirates and the short-tempered duke.

Having suffered enough misfortune, Count Elman had no desire to experience any more. He tried to quickly round the corner of the corridor, leaving Theresa behind in her state of loneliness and delusion. Yet, misfortune was not yet ready to let go of the middle-aged nobleman.

“Oh, if it isn’t Count Elman. Now, I wonder if I should say it has been a long time since we last met.”

Count Elman cursed himself. In aristocratic society, one could not simply ignore a person of higher rank when they addressed you.

“It has indeed been a long time, Duchess.”

“Oh my, oh, my, I feel as though that was the first time someone has actually replied to me today… Or is it just my imagination?”

Suddenly, Count Elman was overcome by an unexpected emotion. It went by the name of “pity”.

Theresa’s husband was already dead, having left her with two sons. Her sons, namely Duke Zarlisch and Count Arses, had both predeceased their mother. They had been murdered by the same person. It was Count Elman who had brought the individual responsible for Theresa’s vengeance to Uraniborg. And the one who had hindered the avenging of her sons’ deaths was…

All at once, Count Elman bellowed.

“Guards! Nurses! Anyone! Is no one there!?”

The Duchess, whose body had become a compound of alcohol, resentment, and despair, slumped into Count Elman’s arms. Once again, a group of unfortunate guards came rushing over, numbering three or four.

“Your Lordship, for a civil official to be in such a place…”

“If you have time to talk, then take the Duchess to her infirmary! Hurry! What do you intend to do if the worst should happen!?”

The expression and furious shouts of Count Elman, who had long been regarded as a moderate gentleman, left the guards aghast. Two of the guards took turns with Count Elman, supporting the Duchess’ body with arms far more powerful than his own. A third man pulled out a mobile phone to call the medical office. While keeping his eyes on the Duchess, Count Elman pulled out a handkerchief.

“Why has it come to this? Why?…”

As Count Elman wiped the saliva from the lady’s suit,

“That is something I would like to know myself.”

A cold, dry voice spoke, halting the movement of Count Elman’s hand. Standing there, amidst the bewildered staff officers and guards, was a man.

“Duke Idris…”

“You have certainly shown great kindness. However, it must have been a nuisance.”

When Idris spoke, without even a hint of sympathy, a mass of alcohol-soaked flesh stirred and uttered a voice.

“Oh my, it isn’t Idris this time… No, you look just like him, but it’s not you, is it?”

“Are you calling me an impostor?”

Idris frowned and cast his gaze towards Count Elman. The Count shook his head in a panic. It was a silent dialogue. It conveyed the sentiment of ''“Has this woman finally lost her mind?”'' and ''“No, I do not know.”''

Idris let out an affected sigh.

“Duchess Theresa, you never fail to catch me off guard. I am the true Idris. Forgive my bluntness, but it appears you are finally seeing hallucinations.”

“Oh dear, but that isn’t right. If you were the true Idris, you would be carrying the heads of Ariabert and Jouslain in both your hands.”

“……!”

“You were boasting so loudly, after all. I assumed you had already scattered the enemy and received words of praise from His Clanner Highness?”

“Duchess, Duke Ariabert is…”

Count Elman, who had been on the verge of revealing the truth because he could no longer bear it, felt his tongue freeze at the sound of that youthful voice, which was brimming with murderous intent.

“There is no need to say anything more, Count Elman.”

Idris walked forward slowly and came to a halt before Duchess Theresa. He frowned as the breath of alcohol hit him directly. It was at that very moment that an officer, receiving a call on his mobile phone, cried out almost in a shout.

“Duke Idris, I come to report!”

“What is it?”

“The enemy has resumed their attack!”

For a moment, Idris steadied his breathing; he started to walk but then stopped. He looked back over his shoulder at Count Elman.

“Count Elman, I leave the matter of Lady Theresa to you. It is a burden, but such is the way of things. You must accept it.”

As Idris walked away with brisk strides, Elman bowed to his retreating back with a heavy sigh. He had decided to “accept” it. The left side of his face shone pale. The enemy’s artillery fire was reflecting through the transparent wall.



“Do not falter! Hold your ground!” shouted Idris.

The screen before his eyes was turning into a storm of intersecting lines of fire, beams of light, and the glare of explosions.

Ariabert’s death would bring about a major turning point in the war. Idris told himself this with conviction. He strove to ensure it. After all, Ariabert’s legion, stripped of his leadership, would be nothing more than a pack of leaderless wolves. He anticipated that the various armies, currently observing the situation, would begin to move once they realised there was no hope of victory against Jouslain’s lone “Anti-Uraniborg” force. They would undoubtedly rush toward the rear of the “AJ Alliance without A,” seeking to gather even the smallest morsel of the fruits of victory. If that happened, they would pincer the hated Jouslain from both sides and annihilate him within a complete encirclement.

The movement of the various factions was much like discovering a glowing supernova in the midst of a dark nebula. At least, that was how Idris viewed it. After all, Clanner Ajman remained in power at Uraniborg, and it was the Clanner himself who had ordered Ariabert’s “execution”. As long as the Clanner represented authority and justice, it should have been only natural for the various factions to join forces at Uraniborg to crush the rebel Jouslain.

“Vice-Admiral Ridenhour!”

“Yes?”

“I am entrusting you with the command of the interception. I trust the ''Black Prince'' is ready for a ''sortie''.”

“Yes sir. At a moment’s notice.”

“I shall board in fifteen minutes. Inform all crew members accordingly. Furthermore, open the first port gate in ten minutes.”

“Brother.”

At the sudden call, the elegant lines of Idris’ cheek stiffened. It was not Zelpha’s voice.

“You certainly have a lot of nerve, coming back here like this.”

Idris’ voice pierced Radmoth like a poisoned needle of hatred and contempt. At least, it was meant to, but his younger brother, who had returned safely, merely stood there staring at him with dull eyes.

Looking at Radmoth made Idris feel confused about whom he was actually supposed to view as an enemy. He shook his head and spat out words devoid of even a shred of affection.

“What business do you have, showing up here so boldly? I have no recollection of calling for you.”

The reply came immediately.

“Brother, I shall be the one to pilot the ''Black Prince''.”

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