Tytania:Volume 4 Chapter 5

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Chapter 5 – To Each their own Dilemma

I

Since the combatants were both Tytania, if the victor was Tytania, then the loser was also Tytania. The media across the entire universe was faced with the difficult task of deciding how to report the outcome of the battle. Looking at the figures regarding the losses, it was patently clear “which Tytania” had emerged victorious, but fact, perception, and expression were three entirely different things.

The majority of the media in human society fell under the control of Tytania capital. This, too, was a frustrating reality for those involved. If they became too closely entwined with the current rulers, they risked facing purges in the next era; however, if they praised the victor too highly and the outcome was overturned in the next conflict, the consequences would be utterly disastrous.

Thus, the majority of the media chose the path of adhering to “objective reporting”. They presented figures for the losses sustained by both the Uraniborg faction and the Ariabert-Jouslain alliance, reported the official statements issued by each side verbatim, and included star charts and navigational maps, while strictly avoiding commentary. Their aim was to leave the final judgement entirely to the observer.

Consequently, for the general public with no connection to military affairs, the strategic significance of the Battle of the Hasdrubal System remained utterly unfathomable. Based on the casualties reported for both armies, it appeared that the Ariabert-Jouslain alliance had achieved a great victory. Yet, there was a growing consensus that Uraniborg still held immense forces in reserve, making a reversal of fortune highly possible… This general understanding, however, served only to frustrate both those reporting the news and those consuming it. As a result…

“Flukes don’t happen thrice—the fallen idol, Fan Hyulick.”

The young man selected as the sacrificial goat was a carrot-haired youth who, until very recently, had even been misidentified as the “Commander-in-Chief of the anti-Tytania Allied Forces”. When Hyulick had appeared in the cosmos by defeating the undefeated Ariabert with a brilliant stratagem, the jubilant media moguls had all turned their palms at once. If wind pressure had existed in outer space, it would have surely knocked out of orbit a planet or two.

Now, while avoiding any contact with spacecraft, they headed towards the direction of planet Ementhal for the time being. Inside the fleeing Honest Old Man Junior, the pirates wore gloom-ridden expressions. All the dreams, hopes, and calculations they had been so heavily laden with until just a few days ago had been cast aside somewhere in the depths of space.

Doctor Lee tossed several of the published articles onto the table.

“They say even Hell has a bottom. There is a certain pleasure in breaking through that floor and seeing just how much further one can fall.”

“Only if there is a guarantee that we can ascend again.”

Hyulick replied in a sullen tone, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. It still felt as though a dull ache remained. Ever since regaining consciousness, Hyulick had harboured no ill will toward Walenkov, the one who had carried out the act. It was men like Doctor Lee whom he found far more loathsome.

“It isn’t so bad. Perhaps you feel relieved to be liberated from such a hollow reputation.”

Mahdi pricked Hyulick with a needle of sarcasm. Miranda attempted to soothe the tension.

“Well, try not to be too disheartened. Even if it is a shame.”

“Not really. Nothing good ever came of it, even when people were praising me for whatever it was.”

Hyulick’s response was curt. In truth, over the past year, he had been hunted as an enemy of Tytania, imprisoned, escaped, only to be captured once more; the woman he had loved was killed, and just when he thought he had finally taken his revenge, he himself had been treated as the villain and nearly killed. He had not known a single day of peace, having been tossed about in a whirlpool of politics, warfare, and intrigue, only to end up in this wretched state.

“Babylon, Troy, Rome, Carthage—all were destined to reach their final day…”

“Which planets are you even talking about?”

“They were empires that existed in the distant past. Each reached the height of prosperity, only to fall.”

“So, it is the same for Tytania?”

“Nothing is eternal. Even the universe itself will vanish in some tens of billions of years.”

“That has nothing to do with me. As long as I can eat a decent omelette tonight, I am satisfied.”

Hyulick clasped his hands behind his head.

There were no profound feelings regarding the defeat. While he could not help but feel a sense of guilt toward the fallen soldiers, as for Idris Tytania, he felt like telling him, “It’s your own fault for choosing me.”

Regarding Ariabert Tytania, he felt that losing this time was only natural, so there was no bitterness. If anything, he even felt as though he had settled a debt. It was strange, but he had actually harboured a feeling that he had been unfairly tarnishing Ariabert’s reputation until now.

“Yes, yes, let’s have ham and onion omelettes for dinner tonight, then.”

Seraphine dismissed him lightly.

In the end, humanity did not abandon the flora and fauna of nature in favour of consuming synthetic foods. As they abandoned their ancient, primordial home planet and journeyed one after another into outer space, what were installed within the migration ships were not factories for producing synthetic food but rather hydroponic farms and livestock rearing units.

The flora and fauna of Earth were introduced upon planets habitable or terraformed. Naturally, this drew fierce criticism from those advocating for the preservation of celestial environments, but such opposition proved powerless against the human desire to expand their living space. As long as they remained confined to their original home planets, the human population could not exceed ten billion.

As a result of the choices made by ancestors many dozens of generations ago, chickens were being raised even on the surfaces of planets hundreds of light-years away from Earth, and a young man with carrot-coloured hair was eating the eggs they produced.

Whether they won or lost, whether they pursued or fled, they were hungry. The healthy fugitives took their seats at the dining hall table.

“I wonder just what the Tytania Clanner is thinking.”

“Who knows?”

“Heh, so there are things even the Doctor doesn’t understand, then?”

“It might be surprising, but that is indeed the case.”

Answering with such composure to Hyulick, who had become like an unruly toddler, Doctor Lee quietly returned the overly chewy bread to his plate.

“While I was at Uraniborg, I hoped to meet the Clanner somehow… I didn’t care about the formality, whether it was an audience or a mere sighting. I just wanted to look into those eyes directly.”

Doctor Lee shook his head slightly.

“When you think about it, it is quite something. Without even showing himself, the Clanner’s presence weighs upon the entire universe. Billions of people entrust their fates and their very lives to a single word of his.”

“I wonder when he will actually appear before the public.”

As Pagès spoke, twirling pasta around his fork, Miranda responded:

“Perhaps he is simply waiting for the most effective moment?”

“For example?”

“Well, let’s see. How about this: Duke Ariabert and Duke Jouslain thoroughly defeat Duke Idris, and just as Uraniborg is on the verge of falling, he makes his grand appearance?”

“And then, by delivering a single sharp reprimand to both Duke Ariabert and Duke Jouslain, he strikes such fear into them that they surrender immediately, thereby upholding the Clanner’s authority?”

Mahdi picked up his coffee cup.

“That sounds a bit… no, it sounds very much like a cheap three-cent melodrama. Don’t you think? If even a single step goes wrong, the entire cast and the stage itself will plummet into the orchestra pit.”

“No, it is entirely possible.”

Multiple gazes converged upon Doctor Lee.

“Mahdi aptly referred to it as a piece of theatre, and I, too, certainly shared that impression. If things continue as they are, Tytania will fracture, the universe will fall into chaos, and the people will yearn for order and a powerful leader.”

Hyulick swallowed the last morsel of his omelette.

“Even so, at this late stage, will both dukes kneel before the Clanner? Dukes Ariabert and Jouslain have complete control over their forces, and they are already closing in on Uraniborg. Do you really think they would choose to surrender without a fight now?”

“Uraniborg still commands a massive force.”

“Well, if they scrambled enough resources, they could likely call upon ten or twenty thousand ships from various regions to rush to the aid of Uraniborg. But the question is, who would take overall command?”

Fan Hyulick’s reputation was ruined by this recent defeat. Truth be told, the one most relieved by this was Hyulick himself; it was perhaps a matter of irony, or perhaps a lack of virtue, but aside from his mastery of ambush tactics, the young man possessed nothing more than the shrewdness of a commoner.

“If a military genius were to suddenly appear from out of nowhere and annihilate the armies of Duke Ariabert and Duke Jouslain just as they were on the verge of a complete victory. That person would be able to make the entire universe bow before them.”

“That’s a pipe dream, Doctor. There’s no way someone like that exists.”

“He might exist.”

“As if such a convenient story could exist in reality.”

“No, he really truly might. It is simply that we have been ignoring him.”

The group looked at one another, and each saw a look of unease reflected on the others’ faces.

“Who are you talking about, Doctor?”

“Clanner Ajman himself.”

II

“Now hold on, we were just discussing the authority of the Clanner. There is no doubt that his authority is immense. However, I have never heard that the man himself was a master of military affairs. He has always left those matters entirely to Ariabert and Zarlisch, has he not?”

“It may simply be that the opportunity never arose. A situation where the Clanner himself would need to step forward to face a formidable foe. That is why he remained ensconced within Uraniborg. However, now that both Ariabert and Zarlisch are gone…”

Hyulick ran his hands through his hair with great agitation.

“Uh… what, I mean, Doctor, are you actually serious?”

“It is an expected question. Yes… I believe it is, at the very least, a hypothesis worthy of consideration. It is just that the thought only occurred to me very recently.”

Doctor Lee folded his arms in his seat.

“Since his enthronement as Clanner, Ajman has reigned over Tytania without incident, maintaining stability. If that stability were to suddenly collapse into division and instability, and if we were to remain absent during such a moment, even the smallest cracks would expand rapidly…”

Rough footsteps echoed, and Mahdi burst into the room with such momentum that the automatic door could barely keep up. It was said that when Mahdi went to check on Baron Radmoth, who was being held confined in the restroom, the Baron had shouted at him:

“I am a noble of Tytania! I demand treatment befitting my station. Otherwise, you ill-mannered thieves will regret this in due time!”

“Treatment, he says. Honestly, these nobles…”

It seemed as though Mahdi had adjusted his vocal cords so that when he pronounced “treatment”, it sounded more like “mistreatment”.

“Well, I’m technically a noble too, you know.”

Miranda gave a sardonic laugh.

“Good grief, what on earth do you intend to do with that worthless scion? He’s nothing but a walking waste of space, grandly squandering oxygen and food.”

“I believe the plan was to stuff him into a capsule and toss him out once we reached the vicinity of a suitable planet.”

“Without even caching in the cost of his upkeep? There’s always the option of just getting rid of him for good.”

“That might be exactly what Duke Idris has in mind, though.”

“You mean to say we’re meant to trouble ourselves just to rid him of a useless younger brother?”

“Something like that.”

As Doctor Lee replied half-heartedly, Seraphine shrugged her shoulders.

“But he is his own flesh and blood. Would he truly go that far?”

“Similar things have happened many times throughout Tytania’s history. However, once someone is taken prisoner alive, killing them when they are unable to resist is a poor way to start one’s day.”

“Why not just let things go according to Duke Idris’ plans for once? Regardless, while the Duke was a disagreeable fellow, he did feed us quite delicious meals back at Uraniborg.”

“Well, that is true, I suppose.”

“You agree, don’t you, Miranda? In that case…”

“In that case, Mahdi, why don’t you just put Baron Radmoth out of his misery with a single shot?”

“You want me to do it!?”

“Whosoever argues most forcefully shall carry out the deed.”

As Doctor Lee spoke in a light, almost sing-song voice, Mahdi puffed out his cheeks.

“I’ll pass on that.”

“I have no desire to shoot an unarmed man.”

“That is one thing, but… no, let’s skip the sanctimonious talk. I simply do not want that rich kid standing by my bedside every single night!”

A burst of raucous laughter broke the momentary silence. Mahdi was just as terrified of ghosts as he was of losing money.

“Well, there is no need to change the original plan abruptly. If we happen to encounter a Tytania vessel, he should be useful as a hostage.”

One after another, those who agreed with Doctor Lee’s conclusion nodded in unison, and the Honest Old Man Junior sped through the abyss of space, carrying roughly one individual demanding improved treatment.

Ariabert and Jouslain gave Idris no time.

Regardless of Idris’ qualities as a leader, he possessed the trump card of being a Clanner, which could turn the tide entirely. They could not afford to give him the time required to play it. At a speed that might be described as “reckless haste”, Ariabert advanced the fleet, closing in on Uraniborg.

This took almost everyone, both within and without Tytania, by complete surprise. It had been assumed that after achieving victory in the Hasdrubal System, Ariabert and his allies would temporarily cease hostilities for the sake of rest and negotiations. Those few who had already taken a stance and the majority who were preoccupied with their own calculations while watching the situation unfold could do nothing but stand by, utterly helpless.

Thus, forty-eight hours after the Battle of the Hashtbal System had ended, the allied forces of Ariabert and Jouslain closed within a mere two and a half light-seconds of Uraniborg, and the sight of artificial celestial bodies shimmering on the screens was projected in great detail.

“Uraniborg.”

“To think we would be returning in such a manner.”

The soldiers whispered amongst themselves.

The artificial celestial bodies floating in the void appeared like massive, iridescent jewels resting upon black silk.

The clusters of stars shimmering in the background appeared as nothing more than grains of silver sand, accentuating its majestic beauty. The soldiers, having departed from these artificial celestial bodies as part of the Bargash expeditionary force, had now returned to lay siege to it. Their emotions were nothing short of complex.

Because they held Ariabert and Jouslain in such high esteem, they had followed the command of the two dukes, returning from their occupied position in Bargash to this place. Uraniborg stood before their eyes. Even upon seeing it, what welled up within their hearts was not hostility but awe.

Ariabert and Jouslain spoke vaguely about the future, their eyes shifting between the screen and the soldiers.

“I am no politician. Lord Jouslain, if we survive this war, I shall leave everything else to you.”

“I don’t think this is right. Lord Ariabert, I am certain you are capable of making just judgements in politics as well.”

“The same could be said of you, Lord Jouslain. Military matters are but a small fraction of politics, surely.”

“I have no desire to stand at the summit. If anyone were to stand there, it would suit you much better, Lord Ariabert.”

The two of them shared a wry smile, realising they were merely praising one another.

“We certainly lack what one might call Tytanian ambition.”

“Only Idris possesses it. And he carries the weight of us both.”

“I do not think him as incompetent, but if he intends to shoulder it all alone, he shall need another arm.”

They both imagined Idris, ensconced within the heart of Uraniborg, being forced into solitary thought and decision.

How might the situation have changed if Ariabert and Jouslain had turned the planet Bargash, which they occupied, into their base for a long-term war? Tytania would have been geographically divided, with each side gathering its own allies; Ariabert and Jouslain might have abandoned their masquerade as “supranational mega-corporations” to establish new, separate states.

That was not what happened. The Bargash military, implicated in the death of Duke Zarlisch Tytania, did not join Ariabert’s forces; instead, they remained within their own territory, merely observing the “domestic strife” within Tytania.

Once it was determined that Tytania’s power had waned, every force in the universe would swarm to tear away its interests. Much like the fierce carnivores that gathered around the dying carcass of a massive herbivorous dinosaur in the ancient past.

The current situation had changed drastically from just one year ago. The two young dukes felt no sense of the fact that it was their own hands that had brought this about.

“Had Zarlisch been alive, things would have been entirely different. If that man had charged head-on with thirty thousand ships, we would have had no choice but to flee.”

They were now using the Austra as their joint flagship. In preparation for the next tactical deployment, they had reached an agreement to maintain close communication and to employ further stratagems.

Ariabert and Jouslain expressed their condolences to the bereaved families of the soldiers who had died in the previous battle, and visited the beds of the wounded one by one, squeezing their hands to convey their gratitude. To put it somewhat ironically, it was only possible because their numbers were so few, yet it was enough to move the troops; their cheeks flushed and their hands trembled as they swore even greater loyalty.

Furthermore, the presence of Princess Lydia played a significant role. This little princess shed tears for the deceased and, for the wounded, she threw herself into her efforts like an apprentice angel, embracing them with smiles, kissing their cheeks, and stroking their wounds over their bandages.

At the bedside of one soldier, she looked upon the photograph of his family held up by his pillow, asked for the names of each person, and promised that she would pray for his safe return. The soldier was moved to tears, appearing almost ready to swear his allegiance to Princess Lydia rather than to Ariabert or Jouslain.

Francia also assisted the Princess. Following her lead, she spoke to the soldiers and distributed water; when the Princess grew exhausted and fell asleep, Francia carried her to a bed before continuing on her own to move amongst the soldiers to offer them comfort. She did not stop with the wounded in their beds but went around delivering provisions to the soldiers who were resting as well.

Francia’s pure beauty and modest manner encouraged the soldiers, much like Princess Lydia’s enthusiasm. In some cases, it was even more so; there were soldiers who grasped her extended hand with both of their hands, lost in a trance, and one even leaned so far forward to watch her graceful figure depart that he tumbled right out of his bed. He became the casualty in this battle who received the least sympathy from his comrades.

Thus, the morale of the allied forces of Ariabert and Jouslain showed no signs of waning, appearing ready to engage in the next battle without delay.

III

An hour after Princess Lydia had drifted into the land of sleep, a frantic report arrived. A fleet of vessels was approaching at ten o’clock.

“How many vessels?”

“They appear to be approximately three thousand to three thousand five hundred.”

“Keep the communication channels open. They may attempt to propose negotiations.”

However, ten seconds later, Ariabert was forced to issue a new order. The appearing fleet had opened their gun ports without any prior warning.

Hundreds of spears of light caused slight fissures in the hulls of the great ships, but they were unable to pierce through or shatter them. Naturally, the forces of Ariabert and Jouslain returned fire simultaneously, and the surrounding space was instantly filled with fireballs and flashes of light.

“Lord Jouslain, do you have any thoughts?”

“As I said, I shall leave everything to you, Lord Ariabert.”

“You insolent man.”

Ariabert gave a wry smile but immediately hardened his expression and cast his gaze toward the tactical screen. He extended one wing of the fleet to the front left, instantly assuming a semi-encirclement formation.

“Their strategy is nothing unusual. In fact, it is so orthodox it could be pulled straight from a tactical textbook.”

“Then what shall we do?”

“We shall respond in kind.”

Ariabert gave a light laugh, but rather than taking his seat at the command station, he remained standing and began issuing orders one after another. Light and shadow drifted alternately across his face.

Jouslain, who had moved to a seat further back to yield the command station to Ariabert, smiled as he noticed a certain sight. He could see a female officer standing close by Ariabert’s left side. It was the captain, Edna Fredericks.

As his gaze drifted, he noticed a white hand resting against the back of his own seat. Jouslain moved his hand, lightly overlapping it with the white back of hers. He did not need to look to know that Francia, the owner of the hand, had flushed crimson.

“Idris is holding back his strength.”

Ariabert tilted his head slightly.

“If forty thousand ships were to set out simultaneously from multiple ports, we would be hard-pressed to respond. However, even if they launched an offensive in units of one thousand from a single location, it should only result in attrition. What do you think, Lord Jouslain?”

Ariabert kept his eyes fixed on the screen. Consequently, Jouslain was able to leave his hand resting upon Francia’s.

“I do not believe Idris is foolish enough to commit his forces in such piecemeal fashion…”

Jouslain’s suspicions grew. Ariabert frowned faintly.

“It is less a matter of Idris’ character and more that the situation necessitates it. Holding an impregnable castle and a force double our size, he cannot afford to lose. Perhaps he intends to sacrifice just enough to the very limit, to observe our tactics and fleet movements for his future benefit.”

The battle continued. Even if they were few in number, more than three thousand vessels were deployed.

It seemed as though the Battle of Hashtbal was being reenacted.

Ariabert opened the gate of his formation, adopting a stance intended to lure the enemy ships inside. In response, the fleet from Uraniborg approached the gate but did not charge through; instead, they rained fire into the formation from the outside. It appeared as though they might fall for the stratagem, but after an exchange of gunfire had lasted for some time, another gate opened, and light cruisers and destroyers surged forward.

From that point on, the battle became a one-sided affair. Under the brunt of the shrewd flanking manoeuvres, the Uraniborg fleet attempted to distance itself from the enemy’s fire, creating numerous fireballs and flashes in the process. It was a natural fleet movement, yet it resulted in exposing their entire flank directly to the open gate. Large-calibre spears of light thrust out from within the gate in quick succession, engulfing two or three ships in flames with a single flash.

In less than ten minutes, the number of Uraniborg vessels had fallen to less than half.

Within the various ships of the Uraniborg fleet, which found themselves in a desperate situation, heated arguments broke out amidst the rising steam of blood.

“To die in a battle like this is ridiculous. We’ll be sent back at the very gates of Hell. Our ship is withdrawing from the battle line immediately!”

While some screamed such things, others, with red-stained bandages wrapped around their heads, offered rebuttals.

“Dukes Ariabert and Jouslain are now public enemies of Tytania. Are you truly intending to surrender to such men!?”

“I did not say surrender. I said withdraw.”

“If you withdraw from the battle line here, what then? You will be charged with mutiny or desertion! You will spend the rest of your life running, and if you are caught, it will be death.”

“And who exactly would such charges?”

“That would be Duke Idris…”

The conversation ceased, and the soldiers exchanged glances. If this had been Clanner Ajman, no one would have even dared to utter the words ‘withdraw from the battlefield’. Idris’ very position relied upon the Clanner’s authority. He had yet to prove just how much he could achieve without the Clanner’s presence.

“Once things have come to this, we should simply surrender to Duke Ariabert and Duke Jouslain together. They would have no reason to punish us, and our forces would be strengthened. There is no point in swearing loyalty to Duke Idris at a time like this.”

“But if we surrender, will Duke Ariabert’s faction accept us? Besides, if in the end Duke Idris happens to emerge victorious…”

“There is no need to worry about such future possibilities!”

“Calm down. If we do that, it will be considered treason. We will be haunted by the disgrace.”

The fireballs blooming across the screen belonged almost entirely to the forces of Uraniborg.

“Why would it be treason? We are merely subordinates of Tytania. The ones we are surrendering to are the pillars of Tytania, Duke Ariabert and Duke Jouslain. There is no need to feel inferior!”

At that moment, Idris was watching the course of the battle from the combat command room. Ariabert’s insight had been almost entirely correct. The reason Idris had deployed an awkward number of three thousand ships was to uncover the true nature of Ariabert’s strategy. However, he was now being overcome by a regret that came far too late.

“Damn it, I should have taken hostages from Hyulick’s faction…!”

Looking back, he had been far too generous when the Blaze Flag Army first arrived at Uraniborg. From Idris’ position, he would not have faced any criticism had he treated them not as guests but as surrendering foes.

It was naive of him, to be sure. However, given his upbringing, Idris possessed a certain obsession with following proper form. If he had acted with intent, he could have been both cold and ruthless; yet, perhaps somewhere deep within his consciousness, there remained a single point of himself that could never truly commit to being a conspirator. At the very least, in his dealings with the Blaze Flag Army, Idris had failed magnificently.

“Whether it was the Blaze Flag Army or Fan Hyulick, trusting an outsider was a mistake regardless.”

Idris knew that such whispers were circulating through parts of Uraniborg. Maintaining an air of composure was the only remaining shred of his pride.

Idris was still unable to make a final decision on how to deploy and manoeuvre his more than forty thousand vessels.

“Surely neither Ariabert nor Jouslain would launch a direct assault on Uraniborg. To kill or wound ten million civilians would only leave them with the infamy of being mass murderers.”

If that were the case, deploying a massive fleet in front of Uraniborg, or having the vessels encircle the entirety of the stronghold, seemed like the simplest and most effective course of action. A gargantuan spherical formation with Uraniborg at its core.

This was one proposal put forward during the repeated strategy meetings.

However, this spherical formation possessed a fatal flaw. As long as Uraniborg served as the nucleus, the formation could not move freely. Furthermore, while it was not a purely military concept, depending on one’s perspective, it could be interpreted as Idris holding ten million civilians of Uraniborg hostage.

As Idris stared at the screen with a gaze that was more severe than sharp, the scenes from that day’s strategy meeting flashed through his mind.

“We can also employ the tactic of deliberately refraining from deploying the resident fleet, allowing ourselves to be surrounded by the enemy.”

“And the advantages of such a plan?”

“Sir, it is calculated that approximately sixty thousand vessels would be required to completely encircle Uraniborg from all six directions. The enemy possesses only twenty thousand. Should they attempt a siege, their net will be incredibly thin.”

“So?”

“Our forces possess forty thousand undamaged vessels. We could take advantage of the situation to strike out from various positions, inflict damage upon the enemy, and then withdraw. By repeating this process of steady attrition of their military strength, victory shall surely be ours.”

“And when would that be?”

“Err…”

“A year from now? Ten years?”

To possess mobile forces double that of the enemy, yet to remain entrenched behind thick walls and simply endure… For Idris, it was something he could not bear. He would surely end up being mocked as a coward.

“Whether it be forty thousand or fifty thousand ships, it is a waste of precious resources. Where is the need for these rebels to completely encircle Uraniborg? If we concentrated our forces at each harbour gate and struck them on the nose every time our fleet set out, would we not achieve an easy victory?”

There was no reply. Another officer suggested, looking quite apologetic:

“How about we deploy twenty thousand ships to face the enemy head-on, and in the meantime, send another twenty thousand out through the opposite gate?”

“So, that detachment would bypass Uraniborg, circle around to the enemy’s rear, and catch them in a pincer movement from both sides?”

“Yes sir.”

It was not a bad plan. However, it seemed unlikely that Ariabert had not already anticipated such a thing. Ironically, Idris’ greatest weakness lay in the fact that he possessed a force far superior to that of the enemy. If he were to lose under these circumstances, it was certain he would be judged by posterity as an incompetent commander.

From the very beginning, the participants of the strategy meeting had displeased Idris. No matter whose face he looked upon, he felt no boost in morale. Ranging from their thirties to their sixties, every one of them was older than Idris. Naturally, their combat experience also surpassed his. While Idris ought to have respected their experience and track records, he could not help but find them utterly unreliable.

With Idris’ permission, the twenty-four officers took their seats with mechanical precision. For a moment, an invisible hand of silence held the assembly in its grip.

If it had been Zarlisch, he would have been the first to speak with a voice like thunder. If it had been Ariabert, he would have called upon someone else to speak. Just as Idris could no longer conceal his irritation, an older general hesitantly opened his mouth:

“… With all due respect, Your Grace.”

“Spare me the formalities. State your opinion at once.”

“Understood. Then… if I may, I shall speak humbly.”

The reason he scanned his fellow generals was likely because he had hoped someone else would speak. However, no one met his expectations. Idris felt almost suffocated by his own frustration. To be forced to acknowledge the sheer military excellence of men like Ariabert and Zarlisch!

“The fate of our army rests solely upon the judgement of Your Grace Idris. We all await your orders for tactical action as soon as possible.”

In the end, it was all up to him. Idris ground his teeth in silence. This was the result of seeking the capabilities of a supreme commander only within the Tytania Clan.

“Regarding actions at the tactical level, I expect you all to act as experts. You are all veterans of many battles. I want you to devise the best course of action.”

With a wave of his hand, Idris dismissed the war council…

“Gather the remnants of the defeated forces.”

Issuing an utterly unpleasant command, Idris rose from his seat. He ordered that no one follow him and stepped into the lift. His destination was the Clanner’s sickroom.

IV

“I wish to have an audience with His Clanner Highness.”

Under Idris’ piercing gaze, the guard’s voice trembled.

“H-His Highness will see no one. I cannot allow you to pass.”

“I am Duke Idris.”

“Of course, I am aware of who you are.”

“And yet, you still refuse me entry?”

“It is not for me to decide. I merely obey His Highness’ orders.”

“A noble sentiment.”

Speaking derisively, Idris took a step forward. With a single sweep of his right arm, he knocked back the soldier who had reflexively braced himself.

From between the lines of soldiers, a man in a white coat appeared. It was an elderly doctor with grey hair. He addressed Idris with a trembling voice:

“Please, stop! You will incur the displeasure of His Clanner Highness!”

The doctor’s admonishment was coldly ignored.

“Your Clanner Highness! It is I, Idris!”

Idris’ voice contained a fierce intensity that went beyond mere dignity, causing the doctors and nurses to instinctively recoil.

“I have come because there is something I most earnestly desire your approval for. I pray that I may be granted the honour of your presence!”

“P-please stop, Your Grace.”

A middle-aged doctor, having summoned all his courage, attempted to lean towards Idris from the side. Without a moment’s delay, and without even addressing him properly, Idris’ hand flashed. A small blossom of blood bloomed in the air, and the doctor fell to the floor, clutching his face.

Without so much as a glance, Idris headed towards the door at the far end. The Clanner waited just behind that single door. At that moment, a large-bodied male nurse moved to block his path.

“Out of my way.”

With a roar of anger, Idris shoved the nurse aside. The nurse stumbled, yet he did not change his position. Behind him, the door opened, but the nurse’s body obscured the sight within. The moment the door closed, a blow from Idris’ fury struck the nurse’s cheek. A moment later, someone grasped his hand.

“Your Grace! Please be mindful of your position!”

It was Count Elman.

“If you commit any further misconduct, it will bring shame upon our name!”

Somewhat taken aback, Idris halted his movement and looked at Count Elman’s face. The middle-aged nobleman wore an expression of desperation. Idris had not thought this man possessed the courage to put himself in harm’s way.

“… Let go. I understand.”

His breathing had not yet fully subsided, and his voice was stiff, but Idris regained his composure rapidly. As Count Elman commanded with a gesture, the soldiers obeyed after a moment’s hesitation. Idris quickly straightened his dishevelled hair and collar, then spoke to the Count.

“Ask Your Clanner Highness to accept my apologies. I shall submit to whatever punishment is deemed appropriate.”

Turning his back on Count Elman, who was about to say something, Idris began to walk away, his chest held high with defiance.

If they could punish him, they should try. Though somewhat childish, a sense of natural rebellion welled up within him. If Idris were to be punished, who then would supervise Uraniborg as the Clanner’s deputy? Or would the Clanner himself crawl out from his sickbed just to watch the spectacle?

The soldiers armed with guns parted to the left and right as Idris walked. He began to descend the wide, ancient marble staircase. No one followed him. However, once he had reached the floor below,

“Lord Idris!”

A young woman’s voice halted his steps.

“Is it you again, Theodora?”

A bitter acidity rose within Idris. Though he harboured resentment and distrust towards this woman, for some reason, he found himself unable to reject her entirely. A trace of self-mockery coloured his voice.

“Have you gone to the trouble of waiting here merely to laugh at me?”

“No, I can only imagine your distress. Even if one says Tytania is invincible, such a claim rests upon having not only incomparable military strength but also exceptional leadership.”

“… What are you trying to say?”

“One has passed away, and the other has become the very enemy in question.”

“Zarlisch and Ariabert?”

Idris’ eyes grew hot with emotion.

“You failed to mention my name.”

He had spoken in a sharp, interrogating tone, but Theodora brushed it off lightly.

“I did not mention Duke Jouslain’s name either.”

“Hmph…”

“Combat command capability is a sufficient condition, but perhaps not a necessary one, is it not? Tytania is not a purely military organisation, after all. Though, if a massive alien army were to invade from the far reaches of space, there would likely be no leader more fitting than Duke Zarlisch.”

“Aliens? An enemy well-suited to him.”

Idris let out a derisive laugh, but his expression quickly tightened. He looked at Theodora with blatant distrust.

“Did you come here merely to tell such a ridiculous joke? I thought you had come to ask that you somehow rescue Radmoth, with whom you are so close.”

He glared at Theodora with layers of biting sarcasm, but all he received in return was a faint, mocking smile. Was someone as insignificant as Radmoth simply not worth her concern?

“Do please be careful, Duke Idris. It is customary for traitors to bring a small gift when surrendering to the enemy. I have come merely to offer you this piece of advice.”

“… Are you suggesting that there is someone within Uraniborg targeting me?”

“I possess no specific information to provide. I was merely reflecting upon historical precedents as a general rule. I would be honoured if you viewed this as a token of my sincerity toward Your Grace.”

As the beautiful woman bowed and turned to depart, Idris spat out,

“Damn vixen!”

It was a common insult, yet one that carried the weight of 6,000 years of history.

Furthermore, the fact that he kicked the nearby ottoman chair was the result of an anger directed more towards himself than towards Theodora. He wanted to remove her so he would no longer have to expend mental energy on her dangerous words and actions. A pity to do without her beauty, but there were plenty of others to take her place. Yet, while standing before the narrow precipice of decision, he found himself unable to take that final, decisive step, because she refused to let him grasp any clue as to how deeply she was embedded with Clanner Ajman or the extent of the influence she wielded.

Lost in thought, Idris continued along the gallery towards his own office. Since those without the Tytania name were forbidden from walking, it was the perfect space for one to wander while contemplating.

What if he pursued a plan to drive a wedge between Ariabert and Jouslain? Idris had long since considered such schemes. He had no need for anyone else to offer him such patronising opinions at this late stage. However, a year ago, when Zarlisch had still been in good health, he had not given the idea much serious thought. But now, their alliance seemed more resilient than steel, and severing it appeared to be a task of utmost difficulty.

If he were to attempt to divide them, to which one should he throw his bait? With the fires of war pressing in upon Uraniborg, Ariabert far surpassed Jouslain in terms of combat command and the capacity to lead troops. Synthesising various pieces of information, it seemed that Jouslain was trailing half a step behind Ariabert.

How would Jouslain act once he had Uraniborg in his grasp? Once the difficult military campaign ended, Ariabert would presumably no longer be of any use to him. The notion that Jouslain was waiting for that very moment was entirely convincing to Idris. Nevertheless, he could not shake the impression that something was amiss. How would the Clanner interpret the relationship between the two men…?

“Could it be…”

Idris froze at his own thought. Could it be that Clanner Ajman was orchestrating this conflict and driving Idris into a corner, all in order to install Ariabert and Jouslain as the next generation of Clanners?

If that were indeed the case, the reason he remained confined to his hospital room at this late stage, refusing to even grant Idris an audience or issue any instructions, became clear. It provided an explanation for the current situation.

Idris began to lean towards that thought, but he hesitated. While it certainly provided an explanation for the current situation, it raised another question. If they intended to remove Idris from the succession race, they could simply do so openly. Why did they not?

The moment he entered the office, Idris felt overwhelmed by confusion, and though he sat down to steady himself, he was simultaneously gripped by an even more extreme suspicion.

Had the Clanner already ceased to exist in this world? Was someone concealing that fact?

“Water!”

Idris bellowed to no one in particular, sending the surrounding figures scurrying about in a panic, until he was presented with a glass of sparkling mineral water. He glared at the bubbles rising through the ice, then seized the glass and drained it in a single gulp. When he tossed the glass into the air, someone caught it with desperate haste.

Yet, this suspicion would have brought about the same result as just a moment ago. Did the Clanner truly have a reason to go to such lengths and engineer a situation to corner Idris?

“Lord Idris is hereby stripped of all of his titles, authority, inherited assets, and he shall be exiled from Uraniborg.”

All it took was making such an announcement. While it would be an intolerable ordeal for Idris himself, for the whole of Tytania, it would surely result in far less damage.

Idris had suffered a crushing defeat in the Hashtbal System. Although he had not directly commanded the battle, his proxy, Fan Hyulick, had fled in the wake of the loss. There was more than enough reason for Idris to be disgraced and exiled. Yet, the Clanner responded only with silence, leaving Idris unable to even find a way to take responsibility for his own actions. As one of the last four dukes remaining, he had lost a peer among his advisers.

That was fine by him. Idris exhaled a distorted breath through twisted lips. If the Clanner were already no more, and since Ariabert and Jouslain bore the name of traitors, it stood to reason that Idris would naturally become the master of Uraniborg. His lifelong ambition would be realised.

He simply had not expected it to be fulfilled in such a manner and so half-heartedly.

However, the problem was not power but authority. One could call it prestige or perhaps popularity. The behaviour he had displayed moments ago in the Clanner’s sickroom had undoubtedly caused a great deal of discomfort and anxiety among the witnesses. They would have seen him as a man unable to control his own emotions.

Idris believed it was only natural to erupt, yet his position was such that he was not even permitted to act naturally in the presence of others.

“What a disgrace… I have made a complete spectacle of myself.”

Regret was useless. To dispel this distrust, he had to defeat Ariabert and Jouslain. Merely imagining the triumphant faces of those two sent a searing heat coursing through his veins.

He would never allow them to claim glory.

V

On this day, there was only one visitor who brought him joy. His youngest brother, Zelpha. Amidst a schedule so hectic that the media would have been fond of calling it a “day of upheaval”, Idris had made time to meet with Zelpha. Knowing that this boy alone harboured a sense of pure, unadulterated devotion towards his eldest brother, Idris moved to a different seat and commanded a servant to bring him some cocoa, allowing for about ten minutes of conversation.

“If only you were ten years older and an adult already.”

Idris’ voice was imbued with true sincerity.

“Someone like Radmoth… it would have been better if he had never been born.”

Had Idris been his father, such words would have never been uttered, but as the elder brother, he felt free to speak his mind.

His affection for Radmoth had originally not amounted to a single shred, but now it had fallen below zero. He had heard tales of Radmoth’s disgraceful behaviour from some of the defeated soldiers who had returned home broken. Idris had resolved that if he had the audacity to show his face, he would subject him to severe punishment.

“When I grow up, I will surely be of use to you, Brother. I will stand by your side no matter what.”

“Yes, you are the only one I trust. I am counting on you.”

Zelpha returned to his room looking disappointed, and Idris watched him go. Had it ended there, it would have been a day upon which he had regained his good humour, but…

“Duchess Theresa requests an audience with Your Grace.”

“I have no business with her. Send her away.”

Idris lacked the confidence that he could maintain his composure if he were to face Duchess Theresa right now. Even without that, he had only just exploded with passion in front of the Clanner’s infirmary.

If Clanner Ajman, Ariabert, and Jouslain were to vanish forever, he wouldn’t mind letting his passions run wild, but for now, self-restraint was essential. He had only just felt the sting of regret moments ago. However, as he lifted his head from his desk, Lady Theresa stood before his very eyes.

“What is the meaning of this? Am I not even allowed to be alone…?”

Idris’ voice trailed off into the air, and his eyes glared unpleasantly at the uninvited guest.

“I… I apologise, but…”

The security officer’s voice was thick with cold sweat. Duchess Theresa Tytania, who had intruded upon them, seemed like an entirely different person from the last time they had met. A strange confidence surged through her entire being; the flaccid softness of her heavy frame had vanished, replaced by a sense of power that seemed to fill every bold contour of her body.

“Enough, you may leave.”

She announced this with an air of absolute authority, as if addressing one of her own subordinates. After glancing at Idris’ expression, the security officer hurriedly vanished.

Idris let out a long, heavy breath.

“I release you from your confinement, and this is how you repay me? What is the meaning of this? I’m afraid I cannot spare more than five minutes.”

“Do not be so cold.”

The Duchess’ voice grew strangely sweet, and even her tone changed, leaving Idris aghast. He did not offer Lady Theresa the sofa as he did his younger brother, leaving the elder woman to remain standing. It was his way of signalling that she should leave at once, but Lady Theresa seemed entirely unconcerned.

“You must be terribly exhausted. I, too, find those brothers Ariabert and Jouslain to be quite disagreeable.”

“Brothers…?”

“Indeed.”

“Wait a minute, they are supposed to be cousins. Their mothers are sisters…”

It was such an unexpected remark that Idris, already mentally exhausted, found himself unintentionally swept up in the Duchess’ pace.

“Yes, their mothers are sisters, but their father is the same man.”

“Then they are half-brothers…” murmured Idris, dazed.

Lady Theresa watched his reaction with an air of satisfaction.

“H-How did it come to that? And how could you possibly know such a thing?”

“How do I know? Well, I shall leave that to your imagination. However, it is a fact that Ariabert and Jouslain are brothers of different mothers. When one belongs to a ducal house of Tytania, things become quite tiresome, with all his talk of lineage, the necessity of male heirs, and how a girl won’t do. You are well aware of this, are you not?”

“…”

“In your family, you were fortunate enough to have three boys, but in Ariabert and Jouslain’s line, things did not go so well. Ariabert’s mother, Wilhelmina, was as the commoners might put it a ‘piece of work’.”

Bullets of hatred and contempt were spat from Lady Theresa’s lips in the form of words.

“Upon realising that her own husband was barren, out of all people, she stole her elder sister’s husband.”

“In other words, Jouslain’s father was…”

“Indeed, and the two boys were born in succession. Almost at the same time—no, Ariabert was born perhaps two weeks earlier. When they were born, they looked so much alike that even the physician was flustered. As they grew, they both took after their mothers, so they ended up looking like cousins. But had they both resembled their father, things might have become quite troublesome.”

Lady Theresa laughed loudly. That voice, which seemed like a mass of pure malice, struck Idris’ eardrums and echoed through his ear canal, refusing to fade for some time.

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