Editing Zero no Tsukaima:Volume15 Chapter2

Across the river of Lelion flowing north of Carcassonne, the Romalian and Gallian Armies had been at a stalemate since the last 3 days. In that period of time, flying across the banks of that narrow river reaching less that 200 metres, were not flying arrows or bullets, nor was it magic spells, but "words".

"Hey, what is a person afraid of even crossing a river talking about?"

The winner would always wave his army's flag around, enjoying his faction's cheers, boosting morale. The loser would hang their head in shame, until another unsatisfied challenger came forth..... and the loop went on again and again.

Whenever a noble was wounded, or even killed in the challenge, two small boats, one from each faction would go and take them back. A unanimous rule of "allowing to attack that boat," was currently getting knights of both factions excited.

There, waving in the winds on the island, was the flag of the Gallian army. The cheering Gallian army sent out cries of provocation. In the middle of the Romalian army, viewing the other side of the bank, Gimili said without thinking,

Malicorne concluded as if understanding philosophy.

Hearing him say so, Reinard said,

After Saito pointed out his own views, Reinard revealed a stern face and corrected,

"My points exactly."

But then again, even if he had insisted, things wouldn't have gone his way either. Just moving that tank was a task difficult enough. If forcefully driven, some parts might have actually gone haywire.

If that tank fried up, then it was done for. There was no backup support, making a temporary one using Alchemy would take too much time.

Even under the help of that world's best mechanic -- genius engineer Colbert, driving the Panzer from Romalian borders, to 800 miles there was impossible. There was not enough fuel, not to mention that you would have to be extremely lucky to prevent damage to the parts.

Transporting it with the "Orient" was also out of the question. Every time the battlefield changed, repeatedly "Loading and Unloading" would spend more energy than it was worth.

Just by having the tank in its hanger, the consumption of Wind rocks would increase exponentially. Also there was need of 20 experienced wind mages. All of that trouble for only a small Knight's branch. Being at a disadvantage themselves already, to spend too much time and energy would not be the best solution. Therefore, Saito eventually had to agree to leave it there.

Different from airplanes, in the world without roads or rails, to transport a tank without it being bashed up was a daunting challenge indeed. Well, the challenge there was currently taken up by Colbert, thinking like hell in the company of the Orient in the streets of Aquileia.

Because of the short notice, there was not enough time to ask Colbert the overall idea on how to prepare that. Even for a person like Colbert, an effective method to transport a tank, wasn't really some idea one could easily grasp hold of.

Then again, if the tank was magically in front of Saito right now, facing an army of 10,000, what on earth did you think a tank can do?

The only thing he could rely on right now, was Henrietta. She had sworn to stop this war as she was about to begin her journey back to Tristain.

And so, Saito and the others, sitting in the middle of the Romalian camps, were electrocuting their gray matter right then, trying desperately to buy time....

''--Then we might as well flee. It's worth a try using the AK-47 or Derflinger, I guess.'' Saito suddenly felt a shiver down his spine.

Tracing the direction of his grubby finger, Guiche was inside a dinghy rowing to the small island, carrying a face smiling like a kid. The Romalian army released ground-breaking cheers and applause.

There was no need to say more, Guiche was dead drunk. His red face could be seen regardless of the layers of make up one could apply. Another obvious hint was the wine bottle in his left hand.

Saito cowered his head in anguish. He thought that guy had changed to some extent, but now it looked like that he was the same Guiche down to his roots. Always wanting to show off and brag, that guy would probably never change for the rest of his life.

That scene on the dinghy was observed by the bald enemy. Yells of curses began to ring again.

Guiche put on a fearless smile and yelled back,

Saito mumbled. Of course, his voices of complaints were covered by the shouts of provocation on both sides.

Deafening cheers sounded from the Gallian army. Looked like Saito was pretty famous even on enemy ground. Whichever side the cheers came from, they were probably out of respect towards a hero.

Saito voiced thoughts of despair in his brain. Gallia really is as incredible as people say, having such chivalrous knights. They would have to face an army containing even more of those knights.

Saito had long gotten used to a magician's battle, swiftly dodging it and charged into the enemy.

Duke Socaron was not slow either, beautifully levitating above the edge of Saito's sword and jumped behind him. Again, Saito continued to approach him under the non-stopping blades of wind. Even if his opponent was only a swordsman, Duke Socaron did not let down his guard or underestimate him. He knew that his opponent was not simple at all.

At that distance? A gun which had an accuracy like that, it was the first time Duke Socaron had ever heard or seen. Stunned to the core he unconsciously knelt down.

Very soon, a dinghy full of bags was rowing towards that way. The dressed men coming ashore seemed to be servants, and made difficult effort in placing 3 large leather bags in front of Saito. After confirming the contents of the bags, Guiche released the ropes tying the duke up.

Guiche pointed to the Gallian army across the river. Hot-headed commanders were crying out,

And so, Saito being forced and blinded by money and glory had countless fights with Gallian nobles.

The Ondine Water Spirit Knights began to gather around and did their own work.

It wasn't long before the bounty on Saito's head in the Gallian camp had already risen to 10,000 écus. Ten or more nobles had challenged Saito and came back in tatters.

Saito huffed and puffed, already at his bodily limit. Although no one might know, there was a time limit for Saito to become Gandálfr.

Guiche yelled towards the Gallian camp:

Delivering to the Romalian camp on a dinghy were a bountiful of delicacies and exquisite wine. A table was put up by the soldiers who suddenly changed into waiters. All of the teens couldn't be merrier, and in a crowd mixed with people from both armies, a happy lunch began.

A faint dollar sign emerged from his eyes, Saito unwillingly sighed. His comrades in charge of the gambling stall begged.

"Saito, please, don't lose, even if you die, you Must win, the odds are at 30 to 1, if you lose we'll go bankrupt."

The terribly excited boys cheerfully started singing Tristain's antics:

Saito suddenly said, interrupting the plain, dull melody. The boys exchanged looks with each other,

Saito only agreed to take up the challenge intending to lower Gallia's will to fight. What a joke, now they were even more eager to do so. Besides, there was no reason to make enemies at this kind of place, and less to say, popularity...although it was already a bit too late....

"What would these fights be worth if they didn't make money."

"I understand, totally understand, you are a good honest person, but occasionally even you would like other girls."

Guiche grabbed Saito's hand tightly. Saito would have normally ignored it, but at this moment under the threat of Louise's jealousy, he painfully replied,

The boys stuck out their thumb and exchanged looks, nodding their heads. Guiche stood up, faced the Gallian camps and yelled,

"You really are a celebrity now, Saito."

Standing out on the opposite shore, was a tall noble wearing a black mask, whole body covered in rough leather. If he weren't wearing a cape, one could barely recognize his status as a noble.

"A poor noble, I guess."

Malicorne might have considered him as nothing, but Saito still prepared himself for anything, just in case. After "training" with hundreds of magicians, the true strength of that opponent could be spotted just by observing his stance.

That guy was even more powerful than Duke Socaron. Out of all the matches so far, he was undoubtedly the strongest.

The man didn't bother to chant spells, lifting up his wand and charged at Saito. Looks like he wanted to fight Saito as a swordsman fair and square.

Like a sabre used by the army, one appeared from his wand in an instant, giving off a bright lime glow. It was the "blade" spell, something mages used to procure a sword from their wands when going through close combat. Of course, the feel and weight of that would be different from a real one.

Being held down by a magician at swordsmanship, it was the first time for Saito. Looked like the opponent was quite confident at close battles.

Saito felt a wave of fear for a second. As figured, the world was large..... Stalling an army of 70,000 had made him think too highly of himself. In Gallia, Duke Socaron just now or the mysterious man in front of him at the moment had really.... made Saito feel ashamed at his confidence in himself.

Anyhow, losing was not an option for Saito in this one on one fight. Saito caught his opponent's pressure and diverted it to the ground on one side, and raised his own sword.

The man with a metal mask kept closing the gap between himself and Saito, almost touching each other's face. Apparently a mage, yet refusing to use magic, was he attempting to win through strength? What a weird man.

In the standoff with that un-mage-like mage, Saito was overflowed with sweat full of anxiety and confusion plus fear...

He was a spy of Marquis Orleans planted in the Gallian army!

The man also gave an imitation of catching the smash with effort, to the crowd's eyes, this looked very much like a standard fight to the death.

The servant dropped the leather bag in front of Saito. After checking its interiors, Guiche exclaimed,

Those 4 had been observing them since the start.

Kirche advised Louise beside her, the latter turned her face away.

"Tiffania, Tabitha, hurry up and help."

Kirche was still for a moment, then returned to reality and started seriously tickling Louise. If Tabitha's strange attitude was due to Louise's familiar...., more the reason she should spit everything related out.

Kirche's tickling techniques were godlike, after continuous invasions into Louise's most sensitive body part, she finally gave in and begged,

After hearing what Louise had to offer, Kirche burst out with giggles.

"I say, Louise,"

Louise replied "Uhh" thinking thoughtfully for quite some time, before pouting. Seeing Louise like that, Kirche started to notice Tabitha.

''This is one tricky case'', Seldom doing so, Kirche joined her hands and started getting frustrated.

Continuing in that direction, Louise began to get all fired up, squeezing her small fists and biting her lips. Looking at Louise acting this way, Kirche was reminded of what she used to be, mad in love...., heartbroken when breaking up....

"Must have also done that kind of thing to Her Highness. As a woman even I am awed by Tiffania's gorgeousness, who knows he did something similarly to her as well. You better start speaking honestly, how many times have you used those pair of large breasts to appear in that dog's dreams, it must have been a superb, incredible night for him....."

Using magic or Sylphid, she could have went over that in one leap, but indulged in her own thoughts, she decided to take a walk, climbing the twisting roads constructed on the cliff.

Ignored by Tabitha completely, Sylphid flew around again above her for a few circles, then mumbled,

Spotting a man waiting in the resting spot halfway of the stairs, Sylphid immediately flew away, it couldn't let anyone see itself speaking.

Standing on the flight of stairs around the corner, was a Romalian priest, Pope Vittorio's familiar, Julio of Vindálfr.

Two eyes glittering of different colors, Julio greeted Tabitha. Looked like he knew Tabitha would pass this area and was waiting for a long time.

Any normal female would have long been mesmerized by that handsome face and eyes sealing up a lake of intriguing secrets. That, however, had no effect on Tabitha. Without giving any kind of a response, she passed by him.

Tabitha stayed still and turned her head around,

"Uh, in this grand land of Halkeginia, there is nothing we Romalia don't know of."

"The wise eye spots these things, you are absolutely correct, then, the following content I am about to suggest, I suppose you already have guessed as well."

Tabitha's eyes suddenly gave a tiny glint of light.

Julio sent Tabitha's shadow off with a warm smile. In an environment that made one irresistible to hum a song, he scratched his head.

To finish the Crusade, King Joseph must be defeated as he could never be an ally, and to do that, it was inevitable to ask for "the destined one's" help, the one supposed to be the next King, orphaned offspring of King Orleans....

If she was willing to reclaim the title as King, standing at Romalia's front lines, there would be nothing more effective than having "the destined one". If so, even the Southern Gallian lords, superficially joining their army yet unwilling to fight at all, might really start to put an effort into it. The ones currently still struggling to make a clear choice and observing from one side would likely join the Romalians, plus another rebellion within the enemy's army was something of high possibility as well.....

Right here facing each other at Carcassonne, would be the best stage to unveil "the destined one".