Madan no Ou to Vanadis:Volume01 Chapter1

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Chapter 1 - Encounter with the Vanadis

"Tigul-sama."

The voice of a girl he had grown used to hearing reached his ears, and he felt his body being shaken.

Because of the bright light shining through the window, he understood that morning had come.

However, he was still sleepy.

"A little longer...... Just a little longer."

"How long is 'a little longer', may I ask?"

"There aren't any plans to go hunting today, so until noon......"

"Cut it out and please wake up!"

The girl roared out loud.

He was stripped of his blanket, his shoulders were grabbed, and he was woken up violently.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that the bright red face of the girl, boiling with anger, was in close proximity.

She had a child-like face, which had no intimidating power even when she was angry. Her chestnut-coloured hair was tied in twin tails. Her small body was dressed in a uniform with black long sleeves, a black skirt that reached down to her feet, and also a white apron that gave off a feeling of cleanliness. That was how the maidservant looked like.

"Ah...... Morning, Titta."

With a drowsy and slow voice, Tigul called out the name of the maidservant who was a year younger than him. Seeing that he seemed to be awake, Titta released her hand.

"The soldiers have already finished their preparations a long time ago, and are all waiting for Tigul-sama!"

Tigul was confused, and thought about what she had just said.

The blood rushed from his face immediately as the realisation sank in.

"......... Oh crap!"

As though rolling out of his bed, he got up, and Titta held out a set of folded clothes to him. Beside her feet was a small pail, filled with water.

"Thank you. You're as well prepared as always."

"That is because I had expected this to happen. I will go and prepare breakfast, so please wash your face and get changed in the mean time."

With the anger gone from her face, Titta made a cheerful smile, bowed, pulling the hem of her skirt slightly upwards in a curtsey, and left the room gracefully.

Tigul washed his face, the cool and refreshing feeling cleansing the remaining drowsiness from him. While putting on his clothes, he dashed out from the room, buttoning them as he ran down the corridor.

"Though I don't have any time left......... I still can't slack off."

He originally intended on going straight for the dining room, but instead he headed towards the small room at the end of the corridor.

This was a room small enough that three adults are unable to sit down together at once, inside. Opposite the entrance was a exquisitely decorated rack, and on it, was a bow.

The bowstring was firm and taut, and it seemed like it was ready for use at any time.

If one were to describe that bow with one word, it would be 'black'.

The handle, the bowstring, the entire bow was pure black, with no luster or shine.

It would not be unbelievable if people were told that this bow was cut and made from darkness.

―― The mere sight of it gave off an oppressive feeling...

The bow with such a mysterious atmosphere, was a family heirloom of the Volen family, said to have been used by their hunter ancestors.

Tigul's father had left behind a last request regarding the bow.

'Only when you are truly in need of this bow, may you use it. Not under any other circumstance.'

Upon hearing his father's will, Tigul felt an indescribable feeling of eeriness from it, and decided not to touch it.

Tigul stood up straight, regulated his breathing, placed his clenched fist against his chest, moving it horizontally. Then, he made a bow to his ancestors.

Finishing this action, he quietly left the room, and headed for the dining room.

Tigulvrumud Volen was sixteen this year. Born in a Count's House in the Kingdom of Briune, he had succeeded the family when his father had passed away due to illness.

The name which was quite a mouthful had been passed down by the ancestors who had obtained the position of a Count. He himself had found it long and troublesome to call, hence he had asked those close to him to address him as 'Tigul'.

Tigul stepped into the dining room, where he smelled a delicious aroma.

On the simple dining table, there were ham wrapped in fried egg, rye bread, milk, mushroom soup and others, hot enough for a faint vapour to waft from them.

Titta was on stand-by at the side of the table.

"Just the soup will do."

"That won't do."

When it came to food, Titta was extremely stubborn.

"Do you want your stomach to be grumbling in front of everyone? It would be unsightly."

Her two hands placed on her hips, she glared directly at Tigul. It was a look full of intensity, very much unlike a maidservant. It was far scarier than when she was waking him up.

Tigul knew very well that he could not win this argument, hence he readily gave in.

Washing the bread down with milk, he then grabbed the plate and gobbled down the fried egg, and finished the soup in great gulps.

"Thank you for the meal."

He stood up as he said that. Titta immediately walked up to him, a comb and napkin in her hands.

"There's still a little bit left on your mouth, please wipe it properly."

Speaking as though she were a little angry, Titta wiped his mouth clean with the napkin.

"And, you've got some bed-hair too."

She extended the hand which held the comb, and thoroughly combed Tigul's red hair.

"Look, even your collar's crooked."

Placing the comb and napkin on the table, her outstretched hand arranged his collar neatly. Tigul quietly accepted it.

" ―― Tigul-sama."

"What is it?"

Suddenly, Titta's voice had lost it's strictness, becoming rather feminine, and she called out to Tigul gently. Tigul had always thought of her, who was a year younger, as his younger sister.

"Why does Tigul-sama have to go out and do battle?"

Tigul's expression became a little troubled, and he ran his hand through his dark red hair. At times, Titta would ask these kind of hard-to-answer questions, and he would be at a loss trying to come up with an answer.

"It's His Majesty's military draft. For the Kingdom of Briune, it is only natural for the House of Count Volen to take part."

"B-but..."

Looking up at Tigul with a teary-looking face, Titta argued vehemently.

"It wasn't easy for us to have even mustered up a hundred soldiers........."

Whether it was the nobility or Counts, there were many different types.

And, though House Volen was not in a situation where they would be deemed 'poor', describing them as 'simple', or other similar adjectives would not be too far off from the mark, that was the noble family of Volen.

This countryside, which was distant from the central area of the territory known as Alsace, besides being small, was also covered mainly with forests and mountains, hence there were not many things they could reap profits from.

Even Tigul's lifestyle, was far off from what one might expect from the image of 'nobility', lacking in luxury and grandeur.

The house was not large to begin with, but just the mere fact that Titta could manage the domestic chores of the entire house alone, was enough to illustrate this point.

"Furthermore, I've heard that the enemy is the Kingdom of Zhcted. If that's the case, shouldn't Tigul-sama be staying here? After all, Zhcted and Alsace are only separated by a mountain."

"That may be so, but this is a place that's as rural as it gets. Even Zhcted won't think of invading here."

To Tigul, the fact that this place will not be turned into a battlefield, was a good thing.

"W-what's more......... don't they always make a fool out of Tigul-sama's bow skills?"

"It's indeed impossible to leave behind a chanson de geste with the bow, eh."

"It's fine even if there isn't a chanson de geste!"

Insisting that with a loud voice, Titta then buried her head into Tigul's chest.

"I only.... wish that you do not push yourself too hard, and that no injuries shall ever befall you, and please, return in good health."

The slender body of the maidservant hugged Tigul lightly, worrying for him.

"Don't worry too much. In my first battle two years ago, did I not return unharmed in the end?"

"That time, Ulus-sama was......"

Titta's voice trailed off halfway. Ulus was Tigul's father, who had passed away two years ago.

In order for Titta to be at ease of heart, Tigul lightly patted her on her head.

"In this battle ahead, my unit will be located at the rear of the main forces, a safe place to be. No matter what happens, I'll think of something."

Bringing his hand up, he wiped off the tears at the corner of Titta's eyes. With an 'I understand', Titta nodded.

"L-listen well, Tigul-sama. Please don't oversleep on the battlefield, like you always do."

"The way you say it makes it seem like I'm always oversleeping."

"That is the truth. The only times that Tigul-sama would wake up on time is when there is hunting to be done, isn't it?"

To Tigul's astonished response, she rebutted.

Even so, he understood that Titta was cheering for him with all her heart, and once again, Tigul hugged her.

Titta relaxed her body, letting Tigul hold her.

The warmth of her body could be felt even through her clothes, and her chestnut-coloured hair gave off a faint fragrance.

Though he would have liked to continue like this a little longer, he did not have much time.

Tigul reluctantly released her body, gently.

"I'm counting on you to watch the house, Titta."

Titta wiped aside her tears with her sleeve, and said, smiling.

"Please leave it to me. Tigul-sama too, take care of yourself."

Just as Tigul walked out the front door while hefting the bow and quiver on his back, he saw that the soldiers were already in formation, awaiting him.

A short old man wearing leather armour walked up to him, and bowed his head.

"Young master, everyone has been assembled. The preparations are also complete."

"Well done, Bertrand."

This old man was Tigul's aide. Compared with the young Tigul, he had far more experience in battle, and within this unit, he was the only person besides Tigul who was trained in equestrianism.

As for the rest, they were all wielding spears, swords hung on their hips, leather-armour wearing soldiers.

"I sure have gathered a fair number."

Tigul heaved a sigh, and some of the more experienced soldiers half-jokingly said,

"Milord, there's naught to be worried about. Though we've not fought in a war for three years, we've spent our days working with the plough, and as such our bodies have grown tough, aye."

"Going against His Majesty's command, would be like disobeying the ol' missus, no? Then we are left no choice, but to obey."

"Your words are much appreciated. Why don't we simply bring your wife along as well? A few angry roars from her would be able to scare off even a thousand or two of the enemy soldiers, eh?"

The soldiers laughed uproariously.

"It would be best to give up on that, young master. This man's missus differentiates not between friend or foe!"

Bertrand had interjected with banter of his own, and Tigul ended this conversation with a shrug of his shoulders.

―― It looked like morale was not going to be a problem.

After waiting for their laughter to subside, Tigul saluted. Then, he mounted the horse that Bertrand had brought over, and raised his right hand up in the air, and gave a command.

"Our destination is the Plains of Dinant. En-route, we will be joining up with Lord Mashas' forces."

The soldiers raised the war flags up high.

They carried two different flags. One had a blue base with a white half-moon and shooting star, the war flag of House Volen. The other was of Bayarl ―― a sacred horse with a black mane and crimson body, the symbol of the Kingdom of Briune.

"With that, let us move out!"

The Kingdom of Briune, with the Kingdom of Zhcted located at its east, have had their swords at each other's throats for over twenty years.

The reason for the conflict this time, was due to the flooding of the river that served as the border of the two countries, caused by torrential rain.

Firstly, the victims of the flood were quick to point fingers at the other country, saying 'tis all because those fellows from yonder haven't been doing their job with the river', which served as the sparks that started the fire.

Next, both countries that were petitioned to by the victims, maintained the stance that 'there are problems with their flood control solutions', which fanned the flames of hostility even more, and finally resulting in a full-scale conflict.

If it were just that, Tigul should not have been summoned to the battlefield.

"The enemy forces number roughly five thousand, but our own forces number over twenty five thousand. Tis pleasant news, truly."

The one who spoke with sarcasm in his voice, beside Tigul, was a knight that was already past middle-age, Mashas Rodant.

Mashas was a friend of Tigul's father, and had often taken care of Tigul, his benefactor.

"They say it's because His Royal Highness is riding into battle for the first time, have you heard of that?"

Tigul asked, while riding next to Mashas.

"Tis likely to be true. His Majesty does dote on him, after all."

His portly body equipped with iron armour and helmet, Mashas stroked his mustache in displeasure.

"The conflict this time round, is almost like a squabble between children, resulting in their parents having to step in, it is not something that would drastically alter the country's future. Based on the meaning of that, for His Highness ―― Prince Legunas, we are merely decorations in his first battle...... to be precise, this is for him to gain some experience."

For his beloved son's first battle, the King must have wanted him to win a glorious victory.

The King had sent out all of the knights directly under him, and the nobles that lived near the Plains of Dinant which was soon to become a battlefield too, had received the call to war.

Even minor nobles like Tigul and Mashas.

Those assembled numbered over twenty five thousand.

The forces commanded by Mashas were about three hundred men strong. Within that, there were about fifty cavaliers.

Though the numbers were not small, compared to the entire twenty five thousand strong army, they were but a drop in the ocean, and the same went for Tigul, which was the reason the both of them had been assigned to the rear end of the formation.

"The odds favour those who gather the greater army ―― tis but the basics of war. One day, Prince Legunas will succeed the throne. His Majesty was not wrong to do so, was he?"

Tigul patted the old knight on the shoulder in consolation.

Those words that he had said were rhetorics. If he did not say it out loud, perhaps he might have lost his will to fight.

"No doubt about it, we are but minor nobility, we only have to obediently wait at the back. If everyone bears the same mindset that this would be an assured victory, and lunge headfirst into battle for glory..... that reminds me, Tigul, have you heard of the Princesses of War?"

He asked as though he had suddenly recalled something, and Tigul tilted his head.

"The Seven Vanadis of Zhcted, you mean?"

"Yes, that's the one alright. It seems that the enemy forces are being lead by one of the Princesses of War. Though only sixteen years old, she has been undefeated, attaining victory after victory. An excellent swordswoman, she stands at the forefront of battle, cutting down all before her, known and feared as the [MeltisDanseuse of the Sword], or the [SilvfrahlWind Princess of the Silverflash]."

The Kingdom of Zhcted was ruled by a King, and the Seven Vanadis.

―― The same age as me, huh.

Tigul had an inexplicable feeling, about this yet unmet enemy general. Though they were the same age, and she was even a female, she had far more battle experience and had performed many heroic feats, and commanded a five thousand strong army.

In the Kingdom of Briune that Tigul was born in, women were not allowed to become knights, except those born of high nobility.

So far in this war, Tigul had not even seen a single female knight.

Because of that reason, he felt excited.

"What name does she go by, this Princess of War?"

"If my memory doesn't fail me, she's called Eleonora Viltaria. The rumours say that she's a real beauty. If one were to place a precious gemstone next to her, it would pale in comparison."

"Is she really that beautiful?"

"It's great that you're excited hearing about beauties, but remember to keep it in moderation. Otherwise, Titta'll get jealous."

Mashas' grey mustache trembling with his laughter, and Tigul replied sullenly.

"Why did Titta's name suddenly get mentioned? She's only like a sister ―― "

"Ever since you were kids, people have said that the pair of you were like a lazy older brother and a capable younger sister."

Even though he put it that way, Tigul could not make a rebuttal. Scratching his dark red hair, he changed the topic.

"If the Princess of War is truly that great a general as the rumours say, then we're in for a hard battle, aren't we?"

"That may be so, but the difference in military strength is simply too great. Even with a specialist of war leading them, they probably wouldn't be able to overcome that disparity."

No matter how hard the Princess of War fought, they would not be able to make up for the overwhelming difference in numbers, five times to be exact.

Tigul would have liked to voice out his agreement, but for some reason he could not do so.

He had an ominous, foreboding feeling. At the region around the back of his neck, he felt a sensation as though being burned.

This was not the first time he had experienced this kind of feeling.

Like those times when he was out hunting, and was surrounded by wolves due to carelessness ―― or when he ran into dragons while in the mountains.

Or when he had woken up in the morning, and was sporting some major morning wood, and Titta had came to wake up him like she always did.

In any case, when he had this kind of feeling, something bad was about to happen.

"You don't seem too overjoyed."

He had been wearing his true feelings on his face, it seemed, and Mashas looked over in concern.

"Are you worried about something? You don't seem like your usual carefree self."

"What carefree self...... aren't there other ways to describe me, like imperturbable?"

Tigul said unhappily, to which Mashas smiled.

"It's fine even if you try to brush it off with difficult vocabulary. As for me, I remember that day as though it were just yesterday. Two years ago, when you had succeeded Ulus."

"I, did I say something then?"

"When the representatives of those villages and towns had asked you how to manage Alsace, didn't you answer them with a 'well, it'll work out somehow'? If that isn't carefree, what is?"

Tigul did not reply, only shrugged his shoulders.

However, Mashas did not stop there.

"When Ulus was still with us, he had always praised you as someone who was 'calm and steadfast, though a little optimistic. He does make good judgments, and also has a strong body'. Those were exactly the words of a father favouring his son, weren't they."

"Even if you say that, I do have confidence in my way of doing things."

After Mashas had finished speaking, did Tigul answer.

It was the truth that no major problems had happened in Alsace.

Though slow, their assets had been growing steadily. Those representatives who had been stunned at his casual statement then got along pretty well with him after that.

"Besides those days where you go hunting, are you able to wake up on your own? Without Titta's help, of course."

"........ No, about that..."

"I've heard from Titta that.... if you had two or three days off, you would grab your bow and quiver and head off into the forests or mountains to hunt."

Tigul's shoulder sagged in his silence, he could not refute that fact.

"Forget I ever said anything. It's good enough that you are performing your duties as a governor. That you can tell just by seeing their faces."

Mashas looked over his shoulders, back at the soldiers.

Their fighting spirits were low due to being deployed at the rear, but not a single person had voiced his unhappiness or anger over it.

"Tigul, our job is to bring these men back home safely. Not thinking how to win this battle. I'm not sure what you're thinking about, but don't worry too much about it."

"Thank you for your concern."

Tigul expressed his gratitude for Mashas' concern.

It was as he had said, there was no point thinking too much about it.

It was frustrating, but they were only called to the battlefield as decorations for the Royal Prince.

No one had expected them to contribute to the battle, nor did Tigul or Mashas expect anyone to make use of their forces.

A few days later, Tigul and company had arrived at Dinant.

The twenty thousand strong main force, the vanguard were lined up at the foot of the hill. The rearguard that was commanded by Prince Legunas, five thousand strong, were on standby at the top of the hill. Naturally, Tigul and Mashas were part of the rearguard.

Just from these facts, the odds of them having to enter the fray were miniscule.

◎

The time was before daybreak. Under the dark sky, a thousand soldiers were advancing in silence.

They dulled the metallic parts of their swords and spears with mud to stop the reflection from giving them away, made their horses bite on boards, and wrapped their hooves with cotton cloth. Extreme measures of caution.

In that manner, they were undiscovered by the enemy, and arrived at the side of the hill.

If they climbed its gentle slopes, they would be able to see the enemy forces ―― the rearguard of the Briune army had night sentries, after all. The flames of the campfire flickered, burning.

" ―― Let us rest. Begin the preparations."

The silver-haired girl who was at the forefront, leading all of these riders, lightly smiled. The soldiers did as she bidded and started to rest, and retrieved the boards and cloth from their horses.

Before long, the scouts that they had sent out earlier had returned.

Hearing from the scouts that the enemies were sound asleep and did not notice their movements, the girl turned around and faced the riders. Drawing the longsword at her waist, she raised it high in the air, as a light wind blew.

"The enemies right before our eyes number five thousand, five times our number. A rearguard it may be, but if that is where the supreme commander is positioned, then it would be reasonable to assume the presence of many elites."

However, the girl's crimson eyes were filled with fighting spirit, and she continued.

"Even so, I will go. And thus, achieve victory. Will you follow me?"

The riders silently raised their arms, pointing their swords and spears toward the sky.

The girl turned her head in the direction of the enemy, driving her horse forward, and brought down her longsword in an arc.

"Assault, begin!"

Their war flags billowed in the wind. The shape of Zirnitra ―― a pitch-black dragon, the symbol of the Kingdom of Zhcted, adorned the war flags.

The rush of the air as they advanced. In the riders' hands were swords and spears, otherwise bows, and they followed the girl's lead, galloping on their horses toward the hilltop.

The soldiers on sentry duty had finally noticed the enemy assault, hearing the sounds of hooves striking ground, as if the earth was crying out.

"The enemy ―― "

The girl, with a flash of her sword, changed what escaped from the soldier's throat from a warning cry to a fountain of spurting blood.

Against the background of the gradually brightening sky, the girl led a force of thousand men directly into the enemy camp, causing wanton destruction. The army of Briune had fallen into chaos. There were even soldiers who threw down their weapons, fleeing for their lives.

Although there were soldiers who had bravely tried to mount a resistance, the difference in the impetus of their assault were too different.

Above all, the valiant girl who led the forces of Zhcted. With her longsword she stood at the frontlines of battle, and was overwhelming in her strength.

With just one assault, hordes of enemy soldiers had been slain, or crushed beneath the hooves of horses. Even so, not a single drop of blood stained her body.

Each time her longsword had caused the wind to howl, the bodies that littered the ground increased.

Her silvery-white hair swaying with the wind, the girl had attacked the enemy camp in this fashion, with the masses of riders that had followed her lead.

At this point in time, victory and defeat looked certain, for the respective sides.

◎

Translator's Notes and References

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