Tytania:Volume 5 Chapter 4

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Chapter 4 – Overture of the “Slaughter Opera”

I

Long ago, Nuri, the second-generation Tytania Landless Clanner, had looked upon the clan’s stronghold, Uraniborg, with cold disdain and called it:

“A mere bauble floating in space.”

About two hundred years had passed since then, and although the scale had diminished, both Dukes Ariabert Tytania and Jouslain Tytania would come to hold almost the same opinion regarding the super-dreadnought Black Prince.

“There is a limit to the usefulness of big guns. If the enemy escapes the range of the main battery, it is all for naught; and considering manoeuvrability, they act rather as a hindrance to tactical deployment.”

Ariabert had said as much, and Jouslain repeated his cynical theory.

“A wolf that has lost the thumb of its right paw would surely be beaten to death by fifty little lambs.”

They argued that if certain functions were disabled, the massive ship would become entirely useless.

In truth, they were not alone in this sentiment. Even Zarlisch, who had placed the highest value on overwhelming crushing power, had said as much.

“What matters is the crushing power of the fleet as a whole, not that of a single ship. What I need is my own courage and my own mastery of tactics.”

While not merely mimicking the elders, Idris also voiced his sarcasm.

“The crowds will surely rejoice during the victory parade. The larger the spectacle, the greater their joy.”

The reason Idris, who had spoken in such a manner, attempted to board the “Black Prince” during this “Uraniborg Incident” was that he had been tactically cornered and sought to find a way out through the sheer crushing power of a single vessel. In the midst of such chaotic, swirling combat, Idris honestly had no certainty as to how effective that crushing power could actually be. However, now that things had come to this, he felt it necessary to manifest his resolve and determination as supreme commander through a tangible action.

Yet, despite their individual differences, their thoughts converged upon a single point. That point was “military rationality”, the goal of “minimising friendly casualties and maximising enemy losses”, and the question of what benefits victory would bring to Tytania.

Radmoth, however, was different. He undoubtedly intended to win, but his disregard for how much damage his own allies might suffer, crushing both the wheat and the chaff, was neither strategy nor tactics.

Radmoth had departed on the Black Prince with the permission of Clanner Ajman. Why Ajman had issued the order to Radmoth instead of Idris was a mystery. Even someone else than Idris would have found it difficult to comprehend.

Thus, what was the state of affairs? The fleet that was meant to defend the exterior of Uraniborg had now been almost entirely annihilated. Since one-third of them had been destroyed by the Black Prince, the situation was nothing short of an absurdity.

“While we were away from Uraniborg fighting, that wretch Radmoth used the Black Prince to hold a sword to the very throat of Uraniborg. He set out as our ally, but he returned as our enemy!”

Balamy kicked the floor violently.

“I never imagined him to be so cunning! I was caught off guard.”

Jouslain crossed his arms lightly.

“Viscount Balamy, it was I who was careless. Not you. I, too, am far too naive. To think that a man of my standing could be toyed with by someone like Radmoth.”

Had Ariabert been alive, would things have turned out differently? No, since Ariabert was a true master of military strategy, he might have been just as caught off guard by Radmoth’s irrational behaviour as Jouslain was. However, in the battles to come against Radmoth, he would have surely made use of tactics that balanced both strength and flexibility.

Even so, one had to wonder if Radmoth truly understood the significance of his actions. Ironically, Jouslain and Idris were in complete agreement regarding their assessment of Radmoth. It was simply impossible for Radmoth to be involved in the selection of the next Clanner.

“Ariabert, Zarlisch, Idris, and I. Ultimately, all four of us were bound by the authority of the Clanner and the history of Tytania. We could not forget the weight of things such as honour and tradition. Radmoth, however, is different. He can trample over such things without a second thought.”

“… In other words, you are saying that Baron Radmoth is turning his sights against his own brother?”

There was yet another man here who held Radmoth in low regard. Though Fan Hyulick had been endeavouring to remain as quiet as possible, he had nevertheless found himself interjecting.

“This is not an outsiders’ business!”

It was Balamy who responded thus, but Jouslain continued, a bitter smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Correct. And quite possibly not the Clanner’s either.”

“Possibly?”

“I have no idea what is going on inside!”

Balamy spat the words out with irritation.

“Hmm, well, to tell you the truth, Duke Jouslain, I think it would be best if you were to become the next Clanner.”

Hyulick spoke even more unnecessarily.

“Duke Idris is not incompetent, but he is rather precarious. If you were to become the Clanner, the political situation would stabilise, and many people would support you… though I have no right to interfere in such matters.”

“I thought you might say that, but I have no intention of becoming the Clanner.”

“I expected as much, but if I may be so bold as to say, Duke Ariabert has already passed away.”

Balamy gasped and was about to say something, but upon seeing Jouslain’s face, he caught his breath once more. There was no sign of Jouslain reprimanding Hyulick’s unnecessary interjection, yet his expression was not one of composed dismissal either; he merely cast a shadowed glance their way.

“Idris is superior to me.”

“In what respect, may I ask? Would you care to tell me?”

“He loves Tytania.”

Jouslain turned his whole body around and directed a strange smile at Hyulick.

“Ever since I was a child, I felt a sense of displacement regarding the environment in which I was born and raised. Even after reaching adulthood, no matter how much I pondered why Tytania was so special or why others chose to follow my clan, I could never find a satisfactory answer. Gradually, I grew to loathe Tytania and found myself wanting to lead a life disconnected from it… No, that is not a tale worthy of your ears.”

Jouslain fell silent, and Hyulick offered only an ambiguous nod as he also fell quiet. However, Balamy, who loathed Radmoth thoroughly, not just from a strategic standpoint but also personally, would not remain silent:

“If the Clanner truly granted Radmoth command of the Black Prince, it would be like arming a carnivore dinosaur with the Blue Dragon Sword.”

“Do you believe the Clanner did such a thing?”

“Duke Idris held opposing feelings toward his two younger brothers. He doted upon Zelpha, but he loathed Radmoth from the bottom of his heart. I simply cannot believe that he would allow Radmoth to command the Black Prince.”

Jouslain gave a small shrug.

“A younger brother rebelling against a cold elder brother—even so, this is excessive. It is certain, though, that Idris was not the one who granted command of the Black Prince.”

As far as the screens could tell, the Black Prince appeared, ironically, to be defending Uraniborg from close range. In reality, however, it had placed Uraniborg entirely within its range, cutting off any possibility of long-distance reinforcement, and was effectively holding the entirety of Uraniborg hostage. Whether this would last for a long time remained to be seen, but at that moment, Radmoth was the one in control of space.

“The Black Prince is targeting Uraniborg right now. Even though the Clanner is stationed there.”

“Does he intend to blow the Clanner away along with it?”

“Returning kindness with cruelty. It is just like him.”

Balamy spat these words, sharing the same sentiment as Idris, with whom he shared a profound loathing for Radmoth.

About two light-seconds away, the Black Prince gazed down arrogantly from the heavens. Looking upon Uraniborg and the Vardana home planet situated below. It was a double act of rebellion, and had Emperor Harsha VI learned of the truth, he might have been driven to agony.

Seated in the commander-in-chief’s chair, Radmoth remained as motionless as a statue titled “Arrogance”, but he suddenly asked one of the officers for the time.

“Exactly thirty minutes have passed, sir.”

“Hmph. In that case, let us announce the hour with a small fanfare.”

Radmoth let a sinister smile creep across his face.

“Fire the secondary batteries at the canopy. Six guns, six rapid salvos.”

The officers froze.

“However, do not concentrate them on a single spot. Our objective is not to destroy the canopy. Instead, let us provide the commoners of Uraniborg with a magnificent firework display.”

“B-Baron, my Lord…”

“Don’t panic, you cowards. I told you it was a time signal. Keep the output to a minimum.”

A heavy, exhausted sigh rippled through the officers. It was unlikely that history would ever record a command centre so gloomy despite such advantageous circumstances.

“Six guns of the first secondary battery, aimed!”

“Fire!”

And so, the commoners of Uraniborg bore witness to a spectacle where six streaks of white light exploded overhead, sending fissures racing through three layers of the canopy.

II

“The residential districts have fallen into a state of panic!”

The harrowing report was brought to Idris. In the main command room, a crowd of pale faces moved about like ghosts.

“Vehicles are clogging the roads leading to the civilian harbour gates. Many are driving against the flow of traffic, and accidents are occurring everywhere…”

One of the monitors was occupied by a scene of a crowd pushing and screaming against one another. On the adjacent screen, a ground vehicle lay overturned on the road, spewing flames and white smoke, as a weeping woman carrying a small child ran past it.

“The emergency shelters are being swarmed by the crowd. The situation is already beyond our control.”

“If even Uraniborg is blown to pieces, there will be no point in fleeing to the shelters.”

Idris’ handsome mouth twisted into a grimace.

“I wonder if Theodora has sought refuge in one of those shelters herself.”

That scheming and cunning Countess Theodora Tytania, clutching a bag stuffed with jewels and cash to her chest, wandering aimlessly amidst a panicked crowd… When Idris imagined such a scene, he felt a slight sense of gratification. However, feeling that such a thought was somewhat petty, he shook his head and banished the image from his mind.

“Impose martial law upon the civilian residential districts. Appoint the Captain of the Military Police as the Martial Law Enforcer. I shall focus my efforts on the battle against the external enemy.”

External enemy? Was his brother the external enemy? Idris nearly burst into a derisive laugh but managed to restrain himself. In any case, the man had turned the cannons of the Black Prince towards Uraniborg.

The people in the general residential district scrambled about, searching for a glimmer of light at the bottom of a well forged from anxiety and terror. Jewellery shop showcases shattered with loud crashes, and the sound of warning shots fired by the military police echoed through the air. Even at this late stage, some people resorted to looting, though it was less a product of greed and more the result of a hysteria born of despair.

As they fled in confusion, the crowds exchanged words in hushed, frantic tones.

“Has the Uraniborg fleet been completely d-destroyed?”

“Surely not.”

“But they were just being picked off one after another!”

“And why on earth would the Black Prince attack Uraniborg?”

“Maybe the enemy took control of it.”

A military policeman shouted, brandishing his gun:

“Everyone, keep quiet! Anyone spreading rumours will be detained under the Public Order Act!”

Most situations would have been settled by that, but this particular situation was unprecedented.

“In that case, you lot need to pull yourselves together. You only get brave when your opponents aren’t carrying weapons.”

The voices of dissent arose, though they were admittedly low. As soon as the military policeman left the area, the chorus resumed almost instantly.

“If, and I mean strictly if, Duke Jouslain led his troops and stormed Uraniborg, what would you do?”

“There’s nothing I could do. I’d just stay hidden at home until things settled down.”

“I’d welcome it. Lord Jouslain is a decent man. Things might actually be better under him than they are now.”

“Don’t be so irresponsible. What would happen to Duke Idris?”

“Duke Idris is the irresponsible one here. What does he even intend to do from now on? He could at least put out a broadcast.”

The commoners enjoyed their freedom of speech, yet they still held themselves back at the very precipice. Even at this late stage, no voices of criticism were raised against Clanner Ajman. It was not that he was particularly well-loved, but the fact remained that he was an object of awe, and thus, tongues were naturally silenced.

Idris, however, was the unfortunate one. Having engaged in unnecessary conflict with Ariabert and Jouslain and having driven them to the frontiers only to face a counterattack that escalated into armed conflict, he was now placing the lives of ordinary citizens in mortal danger. On the surface, he was the Administrator of Uraniborg. He ought to be held accountable for his responsibilities.

For Idris, the impulse was to scream, “What did I do?” Of course, he could not deny that he bore half the responsibility for today’s situation. It was undeniable that he had been excessively aggressive towards the other three dukes, including the late Ariabert and Zarlisch, and had brought isolation upon himself. If it were said that he was the very height of a lack of virtue, he could not argue that it was not true.

There were many points regarding Clanner Ajman that Idris found difficult to understand, but what he could not help but feel was particular confusion and resentment was the fact that Radmoth had been ordered to command the Black Prince. After having inflicted immense damage upon his own allies, Radmoth was now pointing heavy artillery at Uraniborg, demanding its surrender. No matter how much one might defend the Clanner, when it came to the matter of appointing Radmoth, should the Clanner not be held responsible?

In the face of Radmoth’s astonishing rebellion, was the Clanner flustered by the sheer unexpectedness of it? Or perhaps…

Idris was struck with horror. Before the march had begun, didn’t Radmoth boast about something? “I understand the heart of the Clanner. You, brother, don’t”.

Idris had ignored such delusions, but when the current situation reached a stage that could only be described as the worst possible, Radmoth’s boast suddenly resurfaced in his mind. As he felt an inexplicable sense of dread towards his younger brother, the name of his true enemy rose to the surface in opposition.

“Jouslain is still better than Radmoth. At the very least, he possesses common sense and political judgement.”

Because Jouslain, who was only three years his senior, always seemed to be acting far more mature than he was, Idris had disliked him since they were children.

“I will not lose to someone like him.”

Even though he felt that way, Idris had never thought that Jouslain was inferior to Radmoth. He was not that biased. What truly weighed on his mind, however, was not Radmoth but his youngest brother.

“I wonder if Zelpha is safe.”

Zelpha was safe. The members of the Blaze Flag Army were outlaws, but impressively, they did not engage in any unnecessary lawlessness.

That being said, in practical terms, the members of the Blaze Flag Army found Zelpha quite difficult to handle. Having never dealt with a high-born young noble before, they were unsure of how they ought to treat him.

Mahdi, in particular, was strangely enthusiastic; he had scoured the warehouse for junk and tossed a collection of old-fashioned mops, brushes, buckets, and sponges in front of Zelpha.

“Here, these are the tools for cleaning the toilets. Use them to scrub everything until it shines.”

“Don’t mess with me, you scum of the sea! Why on earth should I have to perform such a lowly task as cleaning the toilets?”

“If you don’t want to, then don’t,” scolded Miranda. “In exchange, you won’t get any food. He who does not work shall not eat. It’s been the rule for thousands of years.”

“Now, now, Mahdi, do go easy on him. We may have many crimes to our name, but I won’t have any child abuse involved.”

She turned back towards Doctor Lee and voiced her complaint.

“And you’re just as bad, Doctor. Why on earth did you go out of your way to take in such a difficult child? He’s nothing but trouble.”

In a rare occurrence, Doctor Lee gave a wry smile.

“Now, now, there’s no need for you to get caught up in this, Miranda. Let them handle it themselves. Those two might even end up getting along quite well.”

“I see. If that is what you say, Doctor, then I’ll do so. But still, I wonder what will become of Uraniborg. Surely, it won’t be destroyed within the next couple of days…?”

“No one could have imagined that things would change so drastically.”

“Heh? Not even you, Doctor?”

When Miranda teased him lightly, Doctor Lee nodded heavily.

“I am only human, after all. It is the way of man to strive never to forget that. However, even if it is only in hindsight, I can accept that Radmoth was the factor behind this sudden shift. No one had been paying him any mind. In that time, a mere lizard became a dinosaur.”

Mahdi, who had been arguing childishly with Zelpha, glanced at Miranda and licked his lips as if he had realised something.

“Let me tell you one useful thing, rich kid. That scary lady standing by your side is actually a Princess of a certain principality.”

Zelpha’s expression and voice wavered.

“Y-you’re lying.”

“He’s not lying. I am indeed Her Highness the Princess of the Principality of Casabianca. Not that my physical makeup is any different from anyone else’s. And as you can see, my manners are quite poor.”

Zelpha swallowed hard, looking up and down at Miranda’s entire body as if trying to peer through her.

Suddenly, Zelpha dropped to one knee on the floor, pressed his right fist against his left chest, and bowed his head.

“I cannot claim to be aware of everything, but I would be most grateful if you could forgive the many discourtesies I have shown towards your Highness.”

The members of the Blaze Flag Army stared at Zelpha, utterly astonished, their faces reflecting their various personalities.

III

“That’s quite a surprise. It’s the first time in my life I have received such a formal greeting. Now, please stand up, Baron.”

“I am a Baronet.”

“Very well, Baronet. Now, please, stand. I have noted your proper deference.”

Even Miranda lost her composure somewhat, and her usual manner of speaking became mixed with the formal, courtly tone she rarely ever used. Mahdi whispered to the Doctor:

“Hey, is that brat really Radmoth’s brother? I can hardly believe it.”

“He is really his brother. There is no reason to doubt it.”

“Maybe they should have their DNA retested. If I were the father, I’d be suspecting my wife of having an affair.”

Mahdi’s joke was quite risqué, but whether by luck or misfortune, it did not reach Zelpha’s ears. Zelpha remained perfectly polite and bowed once more.

“With your permission, I shall stand.”

Rising with elegance, Zelpha cast a look of hostility towards those around him once more.

“Even so, please forgive my insolence, Your Highness, but why is someone of your high standing choosing to associate with such human scum?”

“Scum, he says,” remarked Pagès.

“Better than rubbish,” added Walenkov.

Miranda looked down at Zelpha’s serious face, her eyes clouded with a multitude of emotions and thoughts, but after letting out a small sigh, she pulled an S.F. from her inner pocket.

“Ah, darling, I’m sorry, but could you come down from the bridge for a moment? Yeah, I need you to meet with the Baronet.”

When Captain Casimir, who possessed the most virtuous appearance among the group, appeared still clad in his work suit, Zelpha stared at him with a bewildered gaze. As the Captain and Miranda exchanged an affectionate smile, Zelpha questioned them in a tone thick with suspicion.

“Who is this person?”

“He’s my husband.”

“Your husband… You mean, your esteemed spouse!?”

Zelpha’s eyes widened once again.

“Then, is he an Archduke or a Duke? I am…”

“No, he’s just a commoner. I’m sorry, but would you mind showing that photo to this boy?”

Miranda made the request with a hint of pain in her voice. Seeing his wife’s expression, Captain Casimir nodded as if in understanding, and then, towards the bewildered Zelpha who was watching them, he opened the S.F. screen. Zelpha was so stunned that he instinctively began to recoil half a step.

“What on earth has happened to him?”

“His vocal cords were destroyed.”

“…! Who could have done something so horrific!?”

“A Tytanian grunt.”

Zelpha’s expression stiffened. He shook his head in disbelief, his face sinking with a look of utter helplessness.

“I am sorry to have given you such a shock. But unfortunately, it is the truth. Well, I did ensure that person received his well-deserved punishment, though.”

“…”

“Listen, Baronet, Tytania possesses wealth and power so vast they are beyond description. Our enemies are those who are unable to wield that wealth and power correctly.”

Miranda leaned forward slightly to peer into Zelpha’s eyes.

“Everyone here is an outlaw, but tell me, what do you think of outlaws?”

“They are villains.”

“Why?”

“Because they break the law… Am I wrong?”

“You are not wrong. It is just that there are many kinds of villains.”

“Many kinds…?”

Zelpha was bewildered. Looking at him, it was difficult to believe that this boy was the perpetrator of the conspiracy to assassinate Ariabert.

“We break the law whenever we find it necessary. But, on the other hand, there are villains who actually create laws, and if you ask me, they are far more malicious.”

“For example… what kind of villains?”

“Well, for instance, they might create a law like this: ‘Anyone who criticises Tytania shall have their vocal cords destroyed. Those who carry out the punishment shall be rewarded.’”

“…”

“Or perhaps something like this: ‘From this day forward, Planet Caricar shall only trade with Tytania-affiliated companies. Should Caricar violate this law, Tytania shall launch a military attack. No responsibility shall be held, no matter how many people die’…”

Zelpha slumped his shoulders and looked down. It was as if several conflicting values were clashing within the boy’s body.

Nearly an hour later, Pagès returned from the restroom, looking strangely impressed.

“Who cleaned the toilets? When I went in, they were the cleanest they’ve ever been in the entire history of this ship!”

“It was His Lordship the Baronet.”

“Heh!? Now that is surprising. It seems even the nobility possesses unexpected talents.”

Miranda glanced back over her shoulder at Doctor Lee.

“It seems you have taken on quite an enormous responsibility. I wonder how one must handle that boy to achieve a good result.”

“It will allow me to write a book titled The Growth and Observational Records of a Certain Young Boy.”

“Now, just a moment, Doctor.”

“Ah, my apologies. In all seriousness, this concerns the very future of a human being… But, Miranda, even if you find yourself becoming emotionally attached, please do not forget one thing. That boy is a Tytanian. And Tytania’ greater cause is what compelled a thirteen-year-old child to commit murder.”

“I think I understand. Well, I don’t believe it’s his fault.”

Miranda hated the Tytania collective with all her heart, but she did not harbour the desire to kill every single person that comprised it. Her life, both in the past and in the future, was meant to be spent ensuring that Tytania continued to exist, only to move about and thwart its tyranny.

“So, do you have a concrete plan for what we shall do next, Doctor?”

“I have something, at any rate.”

Doctor Lee adopted a self-important air.

“We have sent Hyulick to Duke Jouslain. He will certainly take an interest in Hyulick. I have instructed Hyulick to behave as discreetly as possible, but if a great catastrophe were to loom due to Radmoth’s lack of common sense—or rather, his lack of any sense at all—he will be forced to employ unconventional tactics, whether he likes it or not. If Jouslain and Hyulick can form an alliance, I believe they might be able to stand against the Clanner.”

It was time to eat. Bread, a soup of cabbage and ham, and an omelette were placed before Zelpha, who sat at the table looking uncomfortable.

As Zelpha tentatively took a bite of the omelette, an expression of surprise crossed his face. It was a simple omelette, containing nothing but potato and onion.

“This is delicious. I have never had an omelette this tasty before.”

Seraphine Coopers puffed out her chest with pride.

“Really? I’m glad. I have certainly become skilled at making omelettes. It was a necessity for taming a hopeless man.”

“A hopeless man?”

Zelpha paused with his fork, looking suspicious. Miranda laughed heartily.

“Sera, you shouldn’t be so conceited. The secret ingredient this time is the exquisite seasoning of hunger brought on by hard labour.”

While Baronet Zelpha Tytania was eating the most meagre yet most delicious omelette of his life, his eldest brother was being caught in a pincer movement of rage and impatience in the command centre of Uraniborg.

“Countess Theodora is not in her quarters.”

“What?”

“It appears she sensed the danger of arrest and fled to the general residential area.”

“Do you think this will end with her escaping?!”

At Idris’ fierce reprimand, the officer stood pale and motionless.

“Trace her whereabouts immediately. Dispatch every soldier and police officer at your disposal to find that woman. No, wait, not soldiers. We are still in the middle of combat. Use only the police. Broadcast that woman’s face prominently on all public monitors!”

The officer saluted, then quickly turned on his heel and exited. With every step, the colour returned to his face, and he found himself unable to suppress his expression of fury. What on earth was Duke Idris thinking? With the massive cannons of the Black Prince trained upon Uraniborg, he shouldn’t even care about a single woman!

“What is Duke Idris thinking!?”

Even at this late stage, the officer found himself using honorifics toward one of the Four Dukes. He was Tytanian to his very marrow. Nevertheless, he had begun to vaguely realise that the ultimate responsibility for these events rested with Clanner Ajman.

“I no longer understand… I cannot tell friend from foe.”

The officer who muttered these words contacted the police in the civilian residential district, but the moment he finished, a heavy flood of cold sweat broke out across his face. It was because he had realised that even the slightest thought that the Clanner bore the ultimate responsibility would be considered an act of treason.

IV

Radmoth, the younger brother of Idris and older brother of Zelpha, looked down at his left wrist with deliberate movement. He addressed the officers, who were gathered like a swarm of ghosts.

“An hour has passed.”

“Y-yes.”

“Any word from Uraniborg?”

“N-none, sir.”

“Hmph.”

Radmoth gave a short, derisive snort and issued his command in a tone of absolute certainty.

“Prepare the three main cannons for simultaneous fire.”

“A-are we firing?”

“What else do you intend to do?”

“My family is down there…”

He couldn’t manage to finish his sentence. With a look of utter annoyance, Radmoth drew the flintlock pistol from his waist…

Thirty seconds after the gunshot echoed through the bridge of the Black Prince, the three main cannons aligned their muzzles with a corner of Uraniborg.

Idris, who had been staring intently at the screen, was momentarily blinded. The entire command centre turned into a monochrome, three-dimensional image.

“Damage report!”

He shouted this only after his vision had returned.

“Residential Sector 17 has been completely destroyed!”

The officer watching the monitor cried out in agony.

“Four hundred thousand citizens lived there, and it appears more than half died instantly from a single blow. People and vehicles are being sucked out into space in a swirling vortex!”

“Seal all passages to other sectors. We must not allow the damage to spread. Execute this immediately.”

Beads of cold sweat formed on Idris’ forehead. The seventeenth residential sector had been left to die.

Idris had long admired the idea of a cold, unscrupulous ruler. He worshipped the second Clanner, Nuri, and had himself carried out harsh purges against the subjects of the Vardana Empire. However, at least in Idris’ own mind, those actions were meaningful and necessary. He had no memory of him massacring large numbers of innocent civilians. Radmoth had trampled upon the noble cause of “Tytania” with muddy boots, delivering a calculated kick to Idris’ very conscience. Idris had been forced to exert every effort just to maintain his dignity as an elder brother.

“Well, brother, isn’t it quite a magnificent view? If you like, I could even show it to you two or three more times.”

“Radmoth, you bastard! After killing four hundred thousand civilians, do you feel no shame in your conscience?!”

“Well, well, look at this.”

Radmoth replied to his brother with a sneer. It was proof of his complete psychological superiority.

“Didn’t you pretend to be a cold and ruthless dictator, Brother? That you would kill Ariabert, kill Jouslain, and wouldn’t regret a million or two million soldiers if they became stardust in the universe? Surely you recall uttering such lines, don’t you?”

“I was talking about the enemy! The people you killed were our allies. Even worse, some were non-combatants!”

“Enemies and allies? And who exactly makes that distinction? You are merely drawing the line yourself, Brother. What is wrong with me doing the same?”

“…”

“If you truly wish to save the commoners, then you should simply open the gates of Uraniborg. Go on, do it.”

At that moment, a small but sharp epiphany flashed through Idris’ mind. He composed himself and pierced his triumphant younger brother with a gaze filled with extreme malice.

“Regrettably, I am merely an agent for His Clanner Highness. Furthermore, I have not been entrusted with full authority. I have been granted power only in regard to the subjugation of Jouslain and his men. If you wish to open the gates of Uraniborg, you shall have to negotiate with His Clanner Highness directly.”

Radmoth suppressed a laugh and pierced his brother in return with a spear of mockery.

“Hmm. So, you are admitting yourself to being someone’s dog, Brother?”

At almost the same time, aboard the battleship Austra, a drama that could, depending on how one looked at it, be described as unbefitting of a battlefield was unfolding.

Princess Lydia stood with her hands on her hips, glaring up at Jouslain.

“Duke Jouslain, you shouldn’t cause Francia such worry.”

“My apologies. Francia, I am sorry.”

“No, Lord Jouslain, please do not trouble yourself on my account.”

Princess Lydia, who had been observing the pair with equal attention, nodded to herself and then tugged on the sleeve of Balamy, who was standing nearby.

“Bal, let us go to the gunroom.”

“Yes?”

“In times like these, being a proper adult means allowing them to be alone.”

“… As you wish.”

As Balamy extended a hand, Princess Lydia gripped her knight’s hand with great vigour and, with her small frame, marched out of the private room with great dignity. Perhaps sensing the need to be discreet, the nurse had also disappeared, leaving Jouslain and Francia alone in the room.

“This was this hand that saved me, wasn’t it?”

He took her hand in his once more.

“These are hands meant to hold flowers. It was my mistake to let them hold a gun. Please, forgive me.”

Francia looked her master straight in the eye.

“Lord Jouslain, I do not wish to spend my life holding nothing but flowers. I wish to hold whatever is necessary, whenever it is needed. Whether it be a gun or a sword, if it is what you require, Lord Jouslain…”

Through their clasped hands, Jouslain and Francia shared the sensation of each other’s blood flowing into the other’s body. Jouslain imagined and came to understand that this pure-hearted girl, nine years his junior, had been watching over him like an elder sister. Jouslain was of the great and mighty main line of Tytania, while Francia was of such a distant branch that it was almost presumptuous for her to bear the Tytania name.

“Lord Jouslain…”

“Francia, please forgive me.”

Jouslain raised Francia’s hand and pressed his lips against the white, gentle back of it. He did so with a sense of both tenderness and solemnity.

“I was arrogant. I was observing and judging whether you were a woman worthy of me. But it was the opposite. It was I who should have been reflecting upon whether I was a man worthy of you.”

Jouslain had attained a level of prestige far beyond what was expected of a man of twenty-eight. He had achieved great success in many fields: politics, diplomacy, and strategic manoeuvring, demonstrating keen abilities and garnering numerous honours. While this was a product of his own talent, it was also the fruit of a privileged environment that allowed him to wield it.

When a bayonet was pointed at him by a deranged soldier, Jouslain had simply declared, “Very well, fire away.” He had not said it as a grandiose gesture. Even the images of Princess Lydia, Balamy, and Francia had vanished from his mind; he had simply accepted that his time to die had come.

He had even voiced the thought that he was “half-hearted”. It was because, deep within his unconscious, he had realised that he had no desire to become a Clanner, nor did he possess the ambition to destroy the Tytania with his own hands; he had lived only within the confines of the Tytania framework.

Suddenly, Francia’s voice echoed in his mind.

“Lord Jouslain, let us abandon this trivial war and go somewhere far away. We should simply let Uraniborg and the Black Prince continue their slaughter amongst themselves.”

Francia gazed at her master with suspicion, her lips remaining sealed. What he had heard as Francia’s voice was, in truth, his own overflowing innermost thoughts.

“And as for the future, I don’t know what to do,” muttered Jouslain, wondering what he would do if Ariabert were still alive.

Jouslain understood what Francia wanted to say. She was suggesting that Jouslain himself should become the Clanner. However, when Ajman had shattered his plan to install Ariabert as the Clanner and act as his supporter, Jouslain had been forced to face the reality that he possessed no other vision.

“Perhaps Princess Lydia’s opinion was the most correct, after all.”

They should have all departed for Elbing. That was what Princess Lydia had so fervently argued. Perhaps that would have been the better course. Yet, even if they had secured a moment of peace by leaving the vengeance for Ariabert undone and leaving the Clanner, Idris, and Radmoth as they were, those men would surely have pursued them. He would not have minded surrendering the privileges of the Tytania nobility, but he had felt compelled to settle the current situation with responsibility.

“Francia, please rest peacefully for now. For the only place I have to return to is by your side.”

With a somewhat clumsy touch, Jouslain stroked Francia’s forehead as gently as he possibly could. It was cold, seemingly devoid of any warmth. In response, she gave him a faint, soft smile.

When Jouslain called for a nurse, Princess Lydia, who had entered alongside him as a matter of course, rushed to Francia’s side, took her hand, and made her declaration.

“Duke Jouslain, let me take care of Francia.”

“I am humbled, Princess. In that case, I shall leave her in your hands.”

“You may leave it to me.”

After nodding, Princess Lydia commanded the young duke with a look of utmost gravity.

“You must fulfil your own duties properly. Otherwise, Francia shall abandon you.”

V

Jouslain rushed back to the bridge. With every step, he cast aside his misplaced romanticism and returned to the stage of slaughter and destruction. The moment he took his seat in the command chair, the search officer’s cry rang out.

“The Black Prince’s main guns are bearing towards us!”

“All ships, disperse!” commanded Jouslain instantly. “Do not look to others! Think only of your own survival!”

“Austra turning, departing Uraniborg at maximum combat speed!”

Captain Edna Fredericks’ voice was sharp and taut with tension.

There was perhaps a single moment to draw breath before a flash of light streaked towards the eight o’clock position from the Austra. Everything in sight turned monochrome as fireballs engulfed dozens of ships at once. The embrace of death and destruction was devoid of mercy or pity, swallowing countless fates.

“Communications lost with first-class battleship Montran!”

“Communications lost with heavy cruiser Agora!”

“Currently, approximately ninety ships are unaccounted for!”

Jouslain suppressed a sigh.

“Continue attempting to establish contact.”

On the screen viewed from the command seat, hundreds of millions of dust particles floated. They were the remains of living and non-living things, all having endured a merciless onslaught.

“It feels as though we have been mowed down.”

“We were swallowed whole in a single bite,” replied Balamy, his voice heavy with exhaustion and resentment.

Both Ariabert and Jouslain had thought that there was no tactical significance to launching a single ship, but as a mere display of violence below the level of tactics, it had been more than significant.

“Your Grace, if a second strike comes…”

Just as Commodore Yuan voiced his apprehension, another voice struck Jouslain’s ears.

“No, a second strike will not come.”

Hyulick stood where all eyes were focused. According to him, even that massive vessel did not possess infinite power. They would likely have reserved enough energy to destroy the entirety of Uraniborg.

“I have a small idea.”

“What is it?”

“A method to neutralise the Black Prince. It would be difficult to destroy that enormous dinosaur through firepower alone.”

“Are you perchance thinking of a ramming manoeuvre?”

“Duke Jouslain, as expected from you, your insight is impeccable. I am truly impressed.”

“I am honoured by your praise. However, would it not be futile to ram such a massive hull?”

“No, Duke Jouslain, I agree with Mr Hyulick.”

Balamy supported Hyulick with a rare fervour.

“We could direct about twenty ships at maximum speed towards a single point. Unmanned, of course. What would then happen if we pincer the Black Prince between itself and the outer hull of Uraniborg, rendering it unable to move?”

“We would then send in mobile infantry to capture Radmoth?”

“Yes, we shall detain him. Furthermore, I am in favour of Mr Hyulick’s plan.”

“Um, I… I mean, I also agree with Viscount Balamy. However, I have just one point of divergence.”

“And what is that?”

Hyulick chose his words with great care.

“Detaining Baron Radmoth would be futile and would only leave seeds of future resentment. If I may be so bold, I recommend his immediate elimination.”

“Very well.”

Jouslain nodded deeply.

“We shall decide on the matter of Radmoth after the operation has succeeded. If absolutely necessary, I authorise his execution. Naturally, I shall take full responsibility.”

“As you wish.”

“Then, shall we proceed with that?”

At that moment, all three of them were muttering the same words to themselves.

“I never imagined I would end up fighting side-by-side with these two.”

Over at Uraniborg, Idris was shouting in fury.

“For now, fire at the Black Prince! He’s a rebel who actually launched an attack on Uraniborg. Neutralise it first, and we shall deal with the rest later!”

“He”—his younger brother, Radmoth. Was he truly going to have to kill his own flesh and blood with his own hands? The mere thought was, as expected, horrific. However, having reached this point, if he did not kill him, he himself would be killed. Idris no longer doubted his brother’s intentions. Radmoth intended to wipe out both his elder brother and the Clanner together.

“The Clanner…”

Idris shuddered. Had the Clanner not granted Radmoth command of the Black Prince, this situation would never have come to pass. It was the Clanner’s responsibility that had brought the brothers to the point of killing one another. It was also the Clanner who had ordered Zelpha to act as the perpetrator in the assassination of Duke Ariabert. Ajman was apparently merely using them while only pretending to hold Idris’ brothers in high regard.

No. The Clanner was not merely pretending. Perhaps he had been blatantly using him from the very beginning, and Idris had simply deluded himself into believing he was held in high regard. Could it be that Idris had merely been toyed with, blinded by the Clanner’s prestige…?

“If push comes to shove, I shall use the Clanner as my shield.”

Idris had steeled himself with that much resolve and spirit. However, the uncertainty lay in how many of his subordinates would truly face death by his side. Even if they pointed their guns at the Clanner on Idris’ command, a single glance from Ajman might make their knees buckle, causing them to turn their barrels toward Idris instead. In terms of what people call charisma, Idris did not come close to the level of Ajman.

Idris thought of his own death. He did not believe he feared death itself, but he could not endure a dishonourable end. Furthermore, as long as he remained ignorant of Clanner Ajman’s true intentions, he could not find peace in dying. Should he happen to be killed by Radmoth, he would be left with nothing but to become a ghost. It was a state of mind far removed from true enlightenment.

“We are under engagement!”

The reconnaissance officer’s voice dragged Idris from the depths of his contemplation.

“What do you mean, ‘under engagement’?”

“The Black Prince is under attack!”

“Is it an ally!?”

“N-no, it’s… the enemy. Vessels from the AJ Alliance.”

Idris furrowed his brow and stared at the screen, somewhat dazed.

“The AJ Alliance is attacking the Black Prince! H-how are we to interpret this?”

Even anyone other than Idris would have been confused. He pressed a finger against the space between his eyebrows. He wondered whether it was simply a matter of rejoicing at the fact that “enemies” were engaging one another.

“Just who is an ally, and who is an enemy? Can I assume that the enemy of my enemy is my friend?”

Because his opponent was Jouslain, he needed to discern his true intentions. It would have been most ideal if the man were to take Radmoth down with him, but he was not such a fool.

Before executing their ramming manoeuvre, Jouslain and his crew needed to deceive the enemy. They concentrated an absurdly massive amount of firepower onto a single point on the Black Prince’s main battery. As an incalculable amount of light and heat suddenly converged, one of the Black Prince’s forward main turrets transformed into a mass of light and energy before exploding into fragments. While dozens of serpents of light writhed in midair only to vanish one after another, the destroyed turret collapsed, flickering with blue and white light.

“We did it!”

Cheers and the sound of high-fives echoed across the bridge of the Austra.

“Serve you right! Did you learn your lesson yet?”

“They thought they were invincible… how arrogant.”

Hyulick was under a slight illusion. Even though they were within the Tytania camp, he felt as if he were in the very heart of the Blaze Flag Army. There was no difference in the hearts of the soldiers between Tytania and the anti-Tytania forces. The only difference lay in the intentions of the high command.

The communications officer spoke up. A message had arrived from Uraniborg. Had they come to say, “Thank you for your help”?

They had not.

Idris’ gaze sharply scanned every corner of the screen. He fixed his eyes on Jouslain, who was in the centre of the display, and interrogated him:

“Where is Zelpha?”

“I cannot say where he is, but I guarantee his safety.”

“Guarantee it?”

“Upon my honour as a Tytanian noble.”

For Idris, it was the most effective line possible. Idris opened his lips as if to say something, but in the end, he remained silent.

Jouslain pressed him:

“By the way, whatever happened to your other brother?”

“I do not consider that person to be my brother.”

“Such prejudice, though I suppose I understand.”

A voice, sounding somewhat out of place, drifted through the air, and Idris’ gaze snapped to fix upon a man who was not wearing a Tytania uniform.

“Fan Hyulick! You bastard, what kind of face do you dare bring here…”

“This face, right here. Well, we shall speak again in due course.”

At that moment, on the bridge of the Black Prince, a second officer shot by Radmoth lay sprawled on the floor.

“Fool. Did he truly think he would be forgiven if he laid down his arms only now?”

Radmoth let out a boisterous laugh. That officer had paid the price for attempting to persuade the Clanner to grant him clemency.

The Black Prince’s staff officers learned for the first time that a hollow laugh, even one filled with such force, could exist. They stood frozen, paralysed by despair and terror.

“I have two choices. Either I shall become the master of Uraniborg or die a traitor. There is no other path.”

If one were to listen to those words alone, it seemed as though Radmoth possessed the qualities of a ruthless tyrant far greater than those of Jouslain or Idris.

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