Rakuin no Monshou - Book 4: Chapter 6: Three-way Struggle

Part 1

Having rushed up, Doug looked down at the pathetic, quivering man dribbling blood and froth.

Orba had thrown off his tattered clothes and was using them to wipe himself down. He didn’t smile so much as once when Doug called out “You did it.”

“Could you get me a change of clothes?”

“Sure, but” Doug looked quizzically at Orba, “What are we going to do about him?”

“Give him to me.”

“Why didn’t you land the finishing blow? Are you going to torture him to death?”

Something like that Orba’s emotionless smile seemed to say.

Doug shrugged his shoulders. “Hah. But you fought like a demon. You held back when you were fighting me, didn’t you?”

“Don’t hold it against me. Things would have gotten complicated if I’d beaten you.”

“You, saying something like that? You who loved picking fights when you were a brat.”

On Doug’s order, a new jacket and trousers had been brought. He addressed Orba, who was pulling them on, “I’ll let it slide this time but next time, go at it for real.”

“If there is a next time. What do you intend to do after this?”

“I’m not sure. But this is probably the end of being bandits. We’ll divide up the money we got from Mephius in equal shares then split up. Starting normal lives in the villages around here doesn’t sound too bad.”

It wasn’t only Orba who had been brought to stand at the crossroads of fate. As the smiling bandits embraced each other in turn, looking at closely, their eyes had lost a certain drive. The glint in their eyes, so strong that it had seemed to give off heat, had faded.

Watching them, Orba could objectively understand. They had turned all their grief and despair at having their families snatched away from them into hatred. But then what was left after they had destroyed the target of that hatred, in other words, after it had disappeared?

Fighting, revenge…

Right after it all ended, both body and soul would surely feel empty.

Orba however still wasn’t completely finished. He gave himself a shake to pull his body and mind from their lethargy and strode out of the village. Doug ran after him.

“What are you going to do, Orba?”

“I’ve still got work to do as Mephius’ crown prince.”

“And when it’s done?”

“I’m sick of being a prince and of being a gladiator.”

So I will walk a path different from either of those was how Doug interpreted his meaning. He was going to call out to him again, but then somehow, Doug abandoned that idea and watched Orba’s departing form. Thus their first reunion after six years came to a ready end.

“Chief, did Orba leave?”

A man from the same village as Doug asked him. Although he called him “Chief”, he was six years older than Doug and had been somewhat acquainted with Roan from the neighbouring village. And of course he also knew of his fight-loving younger brother.

“Yeah.”

“Still, to think that in this world there could be such an impossible story. That that Orba became a gladiator then the prince’s body double. I still can’t believe it. And then that we got our revenge thanks to that impossible story. I feel as though once I go to sleep, it’ll all seem like a dream.”

“I thought the same when the village was burned down. And in that dream, I thought it would be good if it was just a dream.”

Doug’s eyes darkened and he looked around at his joyful companions.

I always, always… felt like I was in the middle of a dream. Even when I was writhing in anguish at reality, on some level it felt like I was in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

And now for the first time he had been able to awaken from that nightmare and could finally clearly recognise that the last six years had been real.

“Still. He…”

“He?” asked Doug, suddenly pulled back to reality.

“Orba. Looks like he decided not to come back to the village. Well of course, life as the prince must be more comfortable than coming back to life in the countryside.”

Although Doug had once again turned to his eyes towards the direction Orba had left in, he suddenly shivered.

“Next time… you’ll go at it for real?”

“Chief?”

“Although I said it myself, I’ll pass. I don’t want to get into a fight with someone like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“He isn’t someone who would be able to live a normal life. So he won’t come back to the village either. We might never see him again.”

Doug’s prediction was destined to be proven wrong. But at the time, he firmly believed it.

They had awoken from their nightmare. But Doug wondered if that was also the case for Orba. Or maybe the Orba he knew no longer existed. Even if he told himself that it had been six years, he had sometimes looked like a different person. In those six years that Doug didn’t know about, he had lived in a world that Doug didn’t know.

He isn’t the Orba from before and of course he isn’t Gil either. So… As you are now, who on earth are you?

On Doug’s orders, the soldiers of the Black Armoured Division were stripped of their possessions then thrown into the flames. And because he was of course doing his share of the work, he committed an oversight. The corpse of one of those from the Black Armoured Division whom Oubary had brought to the village – and furthermore a man whose face was known to the villagers – was nowhere to be found.

As soon as he had left the village, Orba called out for Shique and handed him down some orders. This time, Shique took several imperials guards with him and they ran towards the village.

Orba watched them go with a weary face then, when he finally turned around, he opened his eyes wide at the sight of Vileena and Hou Ran standing side-by-side.

“This is…?”

“I had Ran bring me.” Vileena’s face was pale and her voice listless. She had an air of not being able to tell what was what. “What happened over there? The general?”

At that question, Orba was assured that Shique had used his wits and kept Vileena away from anywhere where sounds might reach.

While waiting for Shique and the others’ return, Orba gave the princess a matter-of-fact explanation. Flames could still be seen leaping from the direction of the village. This time it was Vileena’s turn to open her eyes wide.

“General Oubary did?”

“Yeah. When I was inspecting Apta, I heard plenty of testimonies of how six years ago, taking advantage of the chaos of war, he and his Black Armoured Division attacked the villages in this area. Then this time, having come to Apta once again, I knew that Oubary would repeat the same thing again and was in the middle of investigating that.”

“…”

“Having learned that I had been in contact with the villagers, and in order to seal our mouths, he brought his soldiers for a sudden attack on the villagers and me. But I was able to learn of it beforehand and set a trap, and we were just able to, so to speak, turn the tables on him.”

Orba himself thought he was pretty convincing. There shouldn’t be anything left to cover.

“To expose such a disgrace for Mephius was unbearably painful, but this is reality. Personally, after Taúlia, I would have preferred not to fight Mephius’ military.”

“But…” Looking dissatisfied, Vileena seemed to want to protest. Orba was about to nod understandingly at that when,

“Not letting people know anything is a bad habit.” A voice came from so unexpected a direction that Orba gaped blankly. “However the prince has a prince’s circumstances. Don’t argue with him here, Vileena. He’s exhausted.” When Ran said that, although Vileena still looked far from convinced, for now at least she put her verbal assault on hold.

As soon as Shique and the others had returned, Orba set off for Apta. Incidentally, Shique’s group had brought a horse-drawn carriage with them and had previously dumped into it an object tightly bound with rope and cloth that they had brought from the village.

“Honestly, what a stupid thing to dream up!” Bringing his horse up to Orba’s, Shique cursed under his breath. “The smallest mistake and you’d have been dead.”

“Same as usual.”

“True.”

“I’m grateful.”

Orba’s murmur was scattered by the wind.

“Eh?” At Shique’s response, Orba increased his horse’s pace.

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re still alive.”

“No”, Orba said clearly as they cantered through the early evening, “I’ll be dying after this.”

The people at the fortress all came out to greet the prince when he returned to Apta.

“Prince!”

“His Highness has returned.”

“Where on earth have you been until now?”

Raising one hand, Orba held back the surging wave of people, all clamouring at the same time, gave them an enigmatic smile then retired to his own room. Just before that, he called a soldier a gave him an order to “Have a messenger ready to go to Birac”.

There were countless letters that Orba immersed himself in writing until the break of dawn. As the sky and the river Yunos melted together in the pale dawn, Orba opened the door and stepped out.

“The messenger for Birac?”

“Yes. I will depart as soon as I receive your orders.” The awaiting imperial guardsman answered. “I should arrive there the day after tomorrow, no, tomorrow even.”

“Oh? Then that’s good.”

Orba called for the several dozen Imperial Guards still remaining within the fortress and had them prepare for departure. In the hall where they had assembled, besides the soldiers were also Vileena, Hou Ran and Krau.

“Your Highness”, the princess rushed forward. “Then, you are…?”

“Heading for Garbera, yes.”

Ooh – there was a stir from the soldiers. Even now, the reinforcements led by the masked gladiator Orba where still being held at the border by Odyne’s forces. This was saying that the prince would go there in person.

The countenance of the nearby soldiers turned joyful and their spirits were lifted as this was certainly like the prince, when,

“Will that really be alright?”

Ineli Mephius’ figure appeared at the entrance of the hall. Her hands on her slender waist, she smiled scornfully.

“Will what be alright?”

“Hasn’t it already been settled? The reinforcements being stopped by Mephius’ troops, which settles whether reinforcements are to be sent to Garbera, is in accordance with Father’s – with His Majesty the Emperor’s wishes. Up until now, you have been too free in using your own judgement, Brother, but don’t think that you will get away with directly defying His Majesty.”

The strong rays of the rising sun suddenly shone through the hall’s high windows. They illuminated Ineli’s eyes which gleamed triumphantly.

Well now, said those eyes, well now, Oh Fake Prince. If you incur the emperor’s displeasure and find yourself placed under restrictions, the likelihood of you revealing your true colours will increase. What will you do? If as I suspect you are an impostor, you won’t be able to walk this tightrope.

As the prince fell silent, the soldiers exchanged glances. Vileena too held her breath as she watched attentively.

“Ineli.” As a short while, the crown prince of Mephius approached his step-sister, smiling. “His Majesty is surely testing me.”

“Testing you?” Opposite him, Ineli was also smiling. What kind of words would the fake use to keep up appearances – there was enjoyment to be had from watching that kind of performance. However,

“Indeed. At this time when Garbera, our partner in alliance, is in trouble, refusing to help them is a ‘feigned’ intention. Don’t you agree? His Majesty is saying that if ‘you take such a stupid, shitty order seriously, you don’t deserve to be the crown prince’.”

“S-Shitty?” While Ineli was still surprised, Orba drew closer to her and put his hands on her shoulders.

“A brat”, Orba continued casually, in a voice low enough not to be heard by anyone else around. He passed by Ineli, who was goggle-eyed in astonishment. “You said that you knew about me. You don’t know anything. Any more whining from you and I’ll strangle you with my own hands. Got it, little girl?”

As Orba was leaving the hall, the soldiers as well as Vileena and the others followed with him. Left behind, Ineli’s expression had frozen, her eyes starting to their limit. Her shoulders trembled, then her entire body started shaking.

“Princess?” Her attendant maids who had been waiting behind her rushed up on concern. They gasped at the sight of their mistress, staring at nothing, her face pale, her red lips enchantingly enhanced by the contrast.

“How dare”, she muttered in a voice too small, too low for those around her to be able to hear, “How-How dare a mere fake insult me. Remember this well, when I tell Father, he will tear you limb from limb.”

Part 2

A force led by Eric Amon Doria crossed over the border.

As stated by the information that had already reached Garbera, from the two thousand soldiers Eric had with him, he had left six hundred at the border with Mephius. Appointed to command them was Belmor Plutos. During the ritual at the Water Shrine, he had displayed his ‘cute’ voice, but of course that wasn’t his only accomplishment and, as was to be expected of the second son of the Plutos family which had for generations crossed swords with the Northern barbarians, he was a man whose dauntless courage in battle had earned him Eric’s trust.

Naturally it was Eric himself who was leading the main force of a thousand four hundred. They were currently moving southwards along the eastern bank of the river Yunos. The river that formed the border with Mephius flowed west and passed by Zaim.

Majestically flying constant above Eric’s troops was the large dragonstone battleship “Venu”. It was of a scale to be able to carry eight hundred soldiers but Eric had allowed neither men nor goods to be loaded within it. If the ship was made unwieldy from weight, it would have to be covered in light armour. The soldiers were therefore advancing on horseback while the supplies were being transported down the river by barge. And the heavily armoured ship was like a fortress in the sky.

“Garbera is a country that is certainly used to handling airships.” Such was Eric’s assessment. They would also be proficient at bombing and attacking ships. An empty warship was easier to control.

On the other hand, the cruiser-class Dragonstone ship “Regin” that had been left with Belmor was unarmoured and made of almost nothing but dragonstone, having been prepared with speed in mind.

“Garbera”, a young warrior serving the Plutos family laughed while on the march, “must be convinced that Belmor’s group is being used to keep a sharp watch on Mephius.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.” Jolted atop his horse, Eric answered shortly. On his brow was a circlet in the shape of a helmet. When the time came, he would obtain consent from Mephius’ Emperor Guhl to cross the Mephian border. If Garbera sent troops to confront them, Belmor’s unit would be able to escape that way. The enemy would not be able to hinder them, nor could they ignore them, and their forces would be split in two in vain.

Furthermore, Belmor’s troops were ready to attack Garbera’s main force from behind when they crossed the Nouzen mountains. Conversely, they would have the opportunity to perform a pincer attack.

“But… it’s galling that there appears to have been a disturbance on Mephius’ side.”

There was the issue of the reinforcements sent by the crown prince being halted by General Odyne. However, the young warriors usually stationed in Dairan didn’t pay it any mind,

“With this, we have proof that the emperor is keeping his promise. There is no need to worry.”

“Let’s thoroughly show off our Dairan spirit to that insolent Garbera and to our own country of Ende, grown poor through indolence.” Eric grinned broadly at the gossip.

He was a man who had spent his infancy and adolescence in Dairan, an area fervent with military spirit. Rather than holding rites and banquets in the capital, immersed in Ende’s somewhat decadent customs, he preferred to be as he was now with trusted companions, spurring their warhorses towards battle. And he believed that he had thus the ability to expand the country of Ende.

Their current target was the fort that Noue Salzantes had hastily had constructed. According to the scouts, about three hundred soldiers were crammed in there. They would start with that.

Does Garbera mean to halt us with this then have its main force sortie from Zaim?

Before departing for the front lines, Eric had committed a simple topographical map to memory.

But Zaim is known for being a strong fort. Staying in place and conducting a defensive war would be sure way of playing things, however…

In the meantime, Eric didn’t intend to scatter his soldiers any more than this. If the main force made a sortie from Zaim, he would have Belmor’s troop go through Mephius and attack the enemy from the west. In that case, even though the enemy would further reduce their soldiers, they would not be able to turn back. With the fortress filled with soldiers, this was advantageous in terms of number of troops.

Noue Salzantes received the information that Eric was ascending towards the mountain fort.

After sending back the messenger from Zans of the Order of the Knights of Black Steel, he folded his arms. Eric was marching by the banks of the Wendt, along a path at the bottom of a gorge over which steep cliffs towered on either side. From their speed, he could garner that even at the cost of sacrificing their ether, they were thoroughly investigating the terrain by means of airships.

It meant that the reserve unit was laid out to cover every contingency,

He is quite able.

Regarding Eric Amon Doria, rumour had it that although he was gifted in the military arts, he was utterly devoid of prudence. But whatever his political ability might be, when it related to warfare, a singular intuition kicked in.

There had still been no communication from Mephius. It would take too much time even if he sent out a messenger from here to Apta. Besides, the real lord of Zaim, Zenon Owell, had from the outset held no expectations of Mephius.

That we are about to directly cross swords with Ende is already the mark of my defeat.

This being Noue, such were his thoughts. In this war, there was by its nature no other way to victory other than that of taking the path of not fighting. Garbera had little to gain from this conflict, as even if they somehow pushed away Prince Eric Amon Doria’s army, they would not have the reserve force to advance their troops over the enemy’s borders.

And furthermore… if the centre of the continent were once more to be at war, that major power, Allion, might see a chance to strike out from the East. The relationship between Allion and Ende runs deep.

It was for this reason that Noue had deliberately acted to create a debt of gratitude from Mephius’ Gil, in the expectation of reinforcements from his country. Since the enemy had probably planned to be in communication with Mephius, it would certainly cause considerable alarm if troops came from that same Mephius. Ende had set his strategy back to square one, and Noue judged that they should withdraw their troops after all.

It’s unlikely that Mephius can make it on time.

Although he thought it shameful, Noue was already half prepared. Naturally he wasn’t one to forget to make preparations once war had begun.

“Even Eric can’t want a drawn-out war.”

Noue stroked his glossy hair and focussed his almond-shaped eyes on the river Wendt below. Awaiting nearby, the cavalry captain Rogier briefly looked his way but didn’t say anything since Noue muttering to himself was proof that he was engrossed in his thoughts.

“It should be possible to limit the enemy’s movements at the double forts. Surely Mephius wouldn’t be so shameless as to not only not send reinforcements but also to join Ende in attacking from our flank.”

Of course, if the reinforcements from Gil were on time, there would be no need to cross the mountains. It was not Noue’s creed to incorporate unreliable elements into his strategies, but he remembered Gil’s fearless expression.

No matter how bad the situation, there is the possibility of rescue appearing so suddenly as to be anti-climactic. He could not so easily throw away his expectations.

Two days before Ende’s troops crossed over the border…

“What did you say?”

Solon, capital of Mephius.

While he had been heading towards an inspection of the construction work at the Dragon God shrine, Emperor Guhl’s angry voice suddenly resounded. His surroundings instantly went deathly silent.

The vassal kneeling at Guhl’s feet went as pale as though he himself was about to be killed. However, the brunt of Guhl’s fury was aimed not at the one who had hurried with the news, but at his own son, Gil Mephius.

“So not only has he not yet pulled back the reinforcements, but he has flown the Dhum out of Apta!”

“Y-Yes.”

The Dhum was the flagship of the Imperial Guards that Prince Gil had been given on the occasion of his first campaign. That it had left Apta naturally meant that it was going to send relief to Garbera.

Guhl hastily returned to the palace and gave orders for an aerial unit to also depart from Solon. The one he sent was one of Mephius’ twelve generals and the linchpin of the air force, the leader of the Crested Ibis Arrow Division, Yuriah Mattah.

As soon as he heard about it, Simon Rodloom hurried to the audience hall.

“Your Majesty!”

“What are you being so noisy about?”

“What orders did you give Sir Yuriah?”

“That damn Gil’s wilful behaviour has become intolerable. Although I put up with his acting as he pleased with regards to Taúlia, this time I clearly gave him an order in the emperor’s name. It is a matter of course that he should be reprimanded for such flagrant disregard. Therefore, I ordered Yuriah to halt the Dhum. Where is the problem? Nor do I think it is something that warrants such agitation from the former Chairman of the Council.”

“Prince Gil must feel responsible.”

“Responsible in what way?”

“Sometime soon he will take Princess Vileena, the proof of this alliance, as his wife. He cannot abandon our ally Garbera in its distress. In what way is this mere wilful behaviour? By no means is the prince making light of you, Your Majesty. Please, I, Simon Rodloom beg of you on my name. Can you not grant His Highness your forgiveness?”

“Ho. The Rodloom family name is something to be held this cheap, is it?”

Sensing that something unusual was occurring between the two, the nobles and chamberlains who were present in the audience hall exchanged glances. There were also those who, fearing to become embroiled, could only blurt out their greetings and leave.

“It isn’t criticism towards me. It is dissatisfaction that relief has not been sent to Garbera?”

“It is likely that when the prince found himself in a difficult situation in Apta, the Garberan troops hurried back to help. Such is “honour” between alliance partners. It should be our turn to display it next.”

“Idiocy”, Guhl snorted through his white moustache. “I hear that Prince Eric is alone in leading the troops of the Duchy of Ende. It will not become a war in which each bet their very existence; it will result in no more than dividing up the territory around Zaim. Besides Simon, you must be forgetting that there is a relationship between Ende and Allion. If we nonchalantly stick our noses in, it may give Ende’s friend Allion an excuse to extend its reach in this direction. This time, there is no other choice but to have Garbera struggle through as best it can.”

Nowadays, when he gave someone an order, Emperor Guhl was short and decisive in his commands. Right now, even though he enumerated relatively plausible explanations, the one he was talking to being Simon, he was of course well aware that his decision this time was lacking in terms of the obligation owed to an alliance partner.

The audience was engulfed in an ever greater feeling of tension, not knowing what kind of punishment would be visited on Lord Simon who was clearly opposing him on this. A number of the men heard something like a purr.

As Simon remained silent, the emperor continued,

“I am at this country’s helm. With two helmsmen, a ship will soon lose direction. The sailors will also lose their morale. That Gil is not sufficiently aware of this. I will remove his authority to use military force. Never again will I allow Gil even for a moment to reassess the duties of the imperial family.”

“Your Majesty is the one who should reassess them.”

“What?”

His eyes glaring, Guhl was about to rise from his seat. Wearing audacity like a garment, Simon kept his expressionless face lowered.

“Please forgive my impudent tongue. I am prepared to receive any punishment. Although unmannerly, I would say this once. Please, on my name, Simon Rodloom.”

“Be silent!” Guhl stood up and thrust a finger before him. “It appears Simon that somehow or another you favour a single helmsman other than me. One such as you stirs up unnecessary waves and throws the country into disarray. Get out! Never show your face before me again!”

“Y-Your Majesty!”

“Lord Simon, what impertinence. H-Hurry and apologise to His Majesty that he may grant you mercy.”

Even the minor vassals [1] raised a clamour. The only one not making a fuss was the interested party, Simon, who stood stock still, his face still turned downwards.

When after a short while Simon departed from before the emperor, watching him intently from the side was the old general, Rogue Saian. He too had been going to enter the audience hall but had stopped upon hearing the emperor’s angry voice coming from inside. In the end, telling the herald in charge of proclaiming entrances to call off the notice of his arrival, he went towards Simon as he was leaving. His shoulders neither drooping nor his back stooped, Simon was walking entirely as usual.

He wanted to call out to him but seeing the state Simon was in, he couldn’t utter a word.

In terms of age, Rogue was five years older. However, he had always had the utmost respect for Simon. That was because unlike himself, who had no skills outside of handling weapons or piloting airships, he recognised that Simon was a man with the talent to face every one of Mephius’ difficulties.

And so this time too…

At a distance so close their shoulders could touch, the two passed by each other in silence.

For the occasion of his waiting on the palace, Rogue was clad in armour passed down by successive generations of his ancestors, and he brought his fist to his armoured chest in salute.

The flagship of the prince’s Imperial Guards was the large dragonstone ship ‘Dhum’.

Despite being a large battleship-class ship, surprisingly there was little room for more than two hundred soldiers. Above the framework made of weightless metal, sheets of iron had repeatedly been added for defence while for propulsion, it had on board nearly three times more ether engines than was usual. As such, the Dhum combined defence and speed. Ordinarily, its cruising speed was about twenty kilometres per hour but by sacrificing defence and prioritising velocity, it could go over seventy kilometres per hour. For a battleship-class vessel, that number was exceptional.

In order to intercept the ship after it had left Apta, Yuriah Mattah’s fleet, taking off from a base between Solon and Birac, had immediately spread out in a net around Birac’s environs. It was two days after Simon had clashed with the emperor in Solon that the Dhum’s gigantic shadow was seized upon. Just as Odyne’s troops had done by the Garberan border, Yuriah sent out airships to first stop the Dhum.

Knowing of how the prince had recently been, Yuriah’s expression as tense as it was possible that he would try to force his way through, but unexpectedly, the Dhum readily obeyed the order to halt.

Yuriah crossed over in person to the ship and let his large frame down into the Dhum. However, when he stepped onto the bridge, he was left dumbfounded. There was not a single soldier within. There was only the bare minimum of officers needed for the ship to move and the one in charge of handling it from the bridge was…

“Princess Vileena!?” Yuriah’s voice unintentionally escaped from him.

The fourteen-year-old princess looked at him in complete bewilderment.

“Have I done something that violates Mephian laws?” She tilted her head to one side. “I asked Krau here for practice in steering a large ship…. I see, there is not but one single sky. Mephius’ sky must have its own particular rules. I apologise for my rash behaviour.”

“N-No. That kind of thing…”

The fat woman standing next to Vileena looked at her and the embarrassed Yuriah in turns. Having been allowed to search on board, his subordinates unsurprisingly found not a single armed soldier. Of course, the same held true for Prince Gil.

We’ve been had.

Yuriah was in his early thirties and was the second youngest among the twelve generals. He clenched his teeth with a grinding sound. Right now, the prince was probably headed to Garbera by a different route.

That or could it be that the princess in front of him was feigning innocence and had instigated the prince to send reinforcements to her native country – while Yuriah also considered that, there was currently nothing he could do in this situation.

“Ships are interesting. To think that one can dance in the sky as one pleases with something so big. Say, Krau. I wonder if one day people will be able to live in the sky.” In the meantime, Princess Vileena was acting all innocence, although of course neither Yuriah nor Krau, who couldn’t help but be discomfited at being called out to, realised that the model for that act was Princess Ineli.

Part 3

In the meantime, as Yuriah had speculated, Orba’s group had gone overland and was crossing the Domick Flats. They had left Apta the evening before the Doom flew off as a decoy. However, it was a distance that would take five days to cover on horseback. By travelling day and night, that time could be reduced by half but of course it was impossible for either horses or people to go without rest.

Therefore, Orba had sent a messenger to Birac before leaving Apta. Having requested it from the wealthy Birac merchant Zaj Haman, who dealt mainly in transporting goods by airship, after a day on horseback galloping almost non-stop, they were now on the high speed cruiser that had been prepared.

The several dozen soldiers and horses were allowed to rest for a night on board the ship while it continued cruising. There was currently no one in Solon who knew of the connection between Zaj and the prince. Accordingly, the convoy disguised as merchant vessels wasn’t halted. Once the ships ran out of ether, they resumed their exhausting ride on horseback.

And so, three days after leaving Apta, Orba’s group reached the plains looking out to the Nouzen mountains and met up with Kain’s troops.

“Or-”

When he saw Orba’s figure galloping towards them, Kain spread both arms wide in unconcealed joy. Gouwen shut him up since he who was supposed to be Orba was just about to yell out “Orba” to someone else.

Gouwen quickly kneeled to the ground and gave a proper bow from a subject.

“Your Highness, I certainly did not think that Your Highness would come in person. Nor are we able to properly welcome you…”

“It’s fine.” Dismounting from his horse, Orba was as curt as ever.

Oho. – Suddenly realising that there was something different, Gouwen made eye contact with Shique who was behind Orba. The fair-faced former gladiator nodded his slender jaw. From that alone, Gouwen was able to guess a number of things concerning Orba and Oubary.

So he really did come, huh?

His arms folded, Pashir watched the prince from a distance. He didn’t have an in-depth understanding of him, only a kind of presentiment. But it worried him somewhat that the prince’s face held no ‘spirit’.

Even though in Apta, even when he wore the appearance of calm, his ‘spirit’ was so dazzling it was terrifying.

For some reason, he gave the impression that all the drive and ambition he had worn around him had crumbled and fallen away. Going by Pashir’s memories, a gladiator who would always be seething with ‘spirit’ might suddenly one day make that kind of face. Since a gladiator’s daily life was to throw themselves into life-or-death fights, it was natural that there came a time when they grew tired of that routine.

Those gladiators who lost their fixation on fighting,

Or in other words who lost their fixation on life, died.

While Pashir inwardly felt somewhat uneasy, he didn’t directly mention it to the prince. It wasn’t because he was the prince of that Mephius which he would never stop resenting but because he still couldn’t get the measure of Gil Mephius – including of his own feelings towards him.

The report that the prince had managed to reach there in person was also transmitted to Odyne Lorgo’s encampment.

About two hours after Orba’s group had arrived, Odyne himself with only twenty horsemen in attendance stood before him as an envoy. Although it was broad daylight, the sky had suddenly become overcast and the clouds cast a shadow over the plains surrounding the mountains.

Odyne had certainly not expected that the prince would come in person. After expressing words of greeting with a grim expression, he gave a firm warning.

“My deepest apologies but in this too I am upholding His Majesty the emperor’s orders. I cannot allow Your Highness to go any further.”

Sitting on a folding chair before the cruiser, Gil didn’t look Odyne. He was staring up at the sky.

“Is it going to rain?” He asked Gowen who was kneeling beside him. The former overseer of slaves looked towards the sky,

“The weather should still hold today.”

“Is that so. If it rains, the water in the River Wendt might rise and block Ende’s advance through the bottom of the valley.”

During the journey, he had heard of Ende’s advance from Zaj’s envoy. Of course, it was only the broad outline with none of the finer details. The colour rose in Odyne Lorgo’s face. As previously mentioned, he did not think much of Gil for promoting slaves. His tone spontaneously grew ruder.

“With all due respect, all sensible people are unanimous in questioning Your Highness’ actions. You make the likes of slaves your direct retainers and form alliances with Ax. If this time you disobey His Majesty’s orders, you will not be able to explain it away and it will be seen as rebellion.”

Gil still kept his mouth shut.

From Odyne’s point of view, the prince had probably believed that by coming in person, he would be able to overrule the situation. But even though the prince had begun to show some aptitude for warfare, it should be obvious what would happen if he defied the current emperor.

This is a stupid mission.

Odyne personally did not believe that the emperor’s current way of doing things was befitting of a soldier. Nor was it the duty of a proud military commander to prevent reinforcements from reaching an ally. Nevertheless, under the present circumstances, with Ryucown in Garbera then Zaat in Mephius almost kindling the fires of rebellion, one needed to be careful not to act in such a way as to throw internal affairs out of step.

Orba for his part had his eyes trained far above Odyne’s head.

That’s right, huh. There’s no need for it anymore.

His thoughts were spinning. By ‘need’, he meant the need to act. When he met a new person as Gil, it was usual for Orba to feign ill-humour. From the words that pulled out of the other person, he could guess at what kind of relationship that person had with Prince Gil. It seemed to have become an ingrained habit.

“Odyne.”

“Yes.”

Orba looked the military commander in the eyes for the first time. As it was sudden, Odyne Lorgo shrank back a little.

“In other words, you won’t move out of my way.”

Do I need to repeat myself… Recovering himself, Odyne suppressed a look of contempt.

“It isn’t criticism of you, my prince, this is the emperor’s command…”

“Leave the tedious repetitions. In other words, you aren’t able to read between the lines to the emperor’s innermost thoughts and only do exactly as told, making you a disgrace to Mephius’ military. If you act without thinking even for matters of such importance, you would probably really enjoy becoming someone’s slave. You could eat the food you’re given, move about as ordered, then sleep.”

“Your Highness. Y-Your Highness, did you call me a slave?” His voice choked in his throat from fury.

“Your Highness!”

Sounds of commotion broke out from the Imperial Guards. They remembered the scene when general Oubary had arrived at Apta fortress and a drunken prince had brandished a sword at him. Right now, Gil Mephius had drawn the short sword at his waist and held it against the nape of Odyne’s neck.

“If you’re saying I’m wrong, then instead of ‘His Majesty, His Majesty’, speak your own words, Odyne. Whose soul would your words resonate with, those words that claim that simply watching while Garbera is in danger doesn’t sully a warrior’s soul in the slightest?”

“…”

At Gil Mephius’ words, Odyne Lorgo shook. Not his body. His heart, as that of a warrior who had commanded across battlefields for more than twenty years.

Then there came the voice of someone who could not possibly have been there.

“For abandoning an ally, this country will henceforth be open to every bitter criticism. In all likelihood, it will only give our neighbouring countries just cause for attacking the unscrupulous Mephius.”

“Rogue-dono!”

To say nothing of Odyne who was the first to turn around, even Gil couldn’t hide his surprised expression. A new group on horseback was drawing closer. At its head was the veteran army general, Rogue Saian.

“Rogue-dono”, Odyne’s expression grew pained even as he kneeled. “For wilfully moving a military unit, you too will be severely blamed by His Majesty.”

“What is that? I’ve heard that tonight the moon will be beautiful to behold. Thinking it would be a shame to go moon-viewing alone, I brought this party along with me. Ah but, we’re a little early, aren’t we?”

The veteran who had once accompanied Prince Gil on his first campaign casually looked up at the sky. The light was fading as dark clouds gathered, and it was by no means a fair prospect for being able to see the moon.

“My orders are to halt any reinforcements sent from Apta.”

“Odyne. You still…”

“However!” Odyne interrupted Rogue, “There are places that my eyes cannot reach. There, no matter where you or the prince himself may be going, I would not be able to stop you.”

“Odyne.”

“… Naturally, I will be reporting this to His Majesty. Did you say that the moon will be wonderful tonight? Gazing at it while going along the way, one might find themselves arriving in Solon tomorrow morning”, said Odyne Lorgo.

“Then please excuse me”, he addressed the prince before leaving. He waved a hand at his subordinates. How many unsaid words were condensed in that way? The twenty riders he had brought with him still wore severe expressions, however they nodded as one and turned their horses around.

The raised a cloud of dust as they left and while seeing them off,

“That fellow, he isn’t a bad man”, Rogue said with a very matter-of-fact expression on his face, “but he is a bit too honest.”

“So even in Mephius, you find all sorts.”

“What did you say?”

“No-Nothing.”

Shique and Gowen were surprised to hear Orba’s despondent voice.

In fact, various sensations were welling up inside Orba’s chest. Since Mephians had burned down his native village, Orba was dubious about the “honour” they claimed to uphold, but perhaps there were Mephians who did follow it.

“I’m grateful, General.”

“There is no need to be grateful. Right, shall we go? I haven’t been to Zaim since the war. Oh, but last time our destination was also Zaim, wasn’t it? It must be by some strange fate…”

“No General, you will pull back here.”

“Why such an order?”

“No matter how you turn it, the truth is that this is in defiance of Father. It’s best I bear the blame alone.”

“B-But…”

“Give my regards to your family. I might come and bother them with a visit soon.”

At the mention of his family, Rogue’s gaze dropped down a little. Orba had visited the general before and they had feasted on food and wine. Why was it that Orba had recalled something from so long ago.

“Oh, and also, your son and Odyne’s daughter seem to be close. Make sure this doesn’t cause a rift in their childhood friendship.”

“Prince.”

Probably because emotions suddenly welled up, Rogue Saian put a finger to his forehead and turned his face away.

I’m also being soft, thought Orba. However, considering the future from here on, he could not take on new ‘responsibilities’ now. With this…

Because Orba had decided that this would be the last duty he would accomplish.

References and Translation Notes

1. ↑ Literally, the ‘rear vassals’ (baishin, 陪臣), which in the Edo period were the vassals of feudal lords and so only indirect vassals of the shogun.