Rakuin no Monshou

Volume 3, 7: Sword’s Engraving

Volume 3, Chapter 7: Sword’s Engraving

Part 1

“You expect me to go along with such a farce?”

Ax Bazgan expressed his disapproval.

It was only the following day after he marched his army to attack them and became a defeated general, and yet he still responded arrogantly to the prince’s summons at the breakfast table. Of course, he must have suffered a great shock, but it was likely the pride of the Bazgan House that compelled him to proudly attend the meal, by not only drinking the wine but praising Princess Vileena who was seated together with them and additionally admitting to Gil’s cunning.

But as this was Gil Mephius’ invitation, Ax had refrained himself from a third helping of wine and scowled at Gil.

“I, who attacked Apta came across you at the top of the fortress, and as we fought we acknowledged each other and bravely came to an agreement not to shed any more unnecessary blood--? Sure, that might save me face, but who would believe a made-up lie like that?”

“That’s right, no one will believe it.”

“What?”

“But what’s most important is you carry out that stance. Even if it’s an obvious lie, if you firmly stick to it, you can make them think that it might actually be the truth.”

“Are you serious?”

Ax looked to his side at him incredulously. Gil--Orba gave a light smile and after giving a side glance to Vileena,

“One of my old acquaintances once said, that ‘Even if your wife finds you sleeping naked together with another woman, it does not mean you are having an affair.’”

“Ha?”

This time, both Ax and Vileena raised their voices.

“Use whatever excuse you will. You can say the woman broke out in a fever and you were warming her up because she was cold, or say she is your separated sister and how you used to often sleep together like that when you were young.”

“Who would believe that?“

Even Vileena joined in objection.

“Like I was saying, no one would believe it. But if he gave up there and admitted to his infidelity, that would be the end of it. If he decides to take all the blame, then the wife will most likely stop listening to what he has to say from there on. That’s why, even if it’s a lie, even if it’s rubbish, you go through with your excuse to the end. You do it seriously, time and time again. If he gets his partner to even consider that he might be telling the truth, then it’s his win. It’s a wide difference from letting it be known it’s a lie.”

“And what kind of win would that be?”

Ignoring Vileena’s sullen remark, Orba proposed the offer to Ax again.

“What do you say? It will protect both our honour.”

“Our long years of hostility won’t quiet from that.”

Ax could guess what Orba meant by ‘both our honour’. But he fully knew letting it visually show that special consideration was being given to him was also poor etiquette.

“Very well. No matter how arduous the path, it won’t start without taking that first step.”

“It’s decided,” Orba clapped his hands. “Then settling this quickly will be best. We will return all your captured men. Lord Ax, you should also ready your preparations.”

“Preparations...Well, what preparations would they be?”

“To do it now—would be impossible. Then, tomorrow you should board your air carrier with your commanding officers and head for Taulia. We will exchange our pledges to the alliance there.”

“W-wait, Lord Gil. Aren’t you rushing this a bit? I’m sure this alliance runs opposite Emperor Guhl’s intention?”

Vileena jolted to a start and carefully watched Gil. But Gil cooly replied,

“It’s not a problem to make out of at this point. Now, you should hurry, Lord Ax. I also have to ready my preparations immediately.”

The repair of the fortress was underway, but as expected the damages were severe. There were of course, the doors, walls and batteries, and then the heart of the fortress that functioned as Orba’s living quarters was now entirely unusable. They now resided in the eastern wing of the barracks. They had managed to somehow restore it back to its shape, though it was likely only halfway done. On the other hand, it was because an alliance could be gained from this that Gil had wagered his own fortress.

To say it in other words, in the current situation where Apta could not perform its role as a fortress and Taulia effectively being Mephius’ western line of defense, if another western force were to attack Ax, Gil would not be able to send reinforcements.

Ax also understood this situation and so, gave no further protest.

And as it happened, Gil and Ax advanced through the main streets of Taulia side-by-side on horseback the next day.

They had boarded the same ship and crossed the Yunos River together, and waved hands besides another as they entered the Taulia gates and received the people’s cheers.

It was a historical moment for the Bazgans and Mephian imperials who crossed swords since two hundred years past.

Ax Bazgan was a fine actor. He responded brightly to the cheers raining down on him with a lie of some oath he had engraved on the prince’s body in battle as if he wished this from the start.

Ax always regarded Mephius as a long-time enemy. The number of subjects that held suspicions over his sudden change of heart did not stop at ten or twenty, of course. However, they all understood that with the current threat of the new mysterious growing power threatening the western nations, any further dispute with Mephius was not a good idea. And with Mephius as their ally, many hoped they would earn the Mephians’ cooperation and instead be able to defeat this ‘Garda’. Orba looked out at the Taulian landscape strewn with its giant watchtowers, and then donned the mask of the smiling prince once more and continued waving.

That night, a feast celebrating the establishment of the alliance was held in the Taulian palace.

Given the abruptness, the Taulians were unable to prepare anything too elaborate, but they still arranged an abundance of the finest food and drinks they could.

Orba was exchanging greetings with Taulia’s chief vassals as he watched the scantily clothed dancers, a staple local attraction of Tauran, dance to the uplifting tune of the flutes, when the elderly strategist Ravan Dol called out to him.

“I am inspired by your brilliant display of ability in battle.”

“No no, it amounted to a simple parlor trick,” Orba showed his white teeth. “It’s been long said that clever schemes are cheap schemes. They aren’t meant to be used multiple times. I’m still in the middle of learning the art of war as you can see. I would like to one day also receive your tutelage, Ravan-dono.”

“Haha. I am a man whose single redeeming feature lies in raising dragons. Things like the workings of battle much less, is nothing more than a side. Speaking of which, your highness, the dragons you employed appeared thoroughly trained. Possibly, more so than the dragons I’ve raised. I found that much more devastating than having suffered a defeat in battle. Do you perhaps, have a skilled dragon tamer following you?”

“A Zerdian, a somewhat unusual one, you could say. I wanted to bring her with me, but she seems engrossed in taking care of the new breed of Yunions we received from you.”

“A Zerdian...hmm,” Ravan said, tilting his head. “Then could I have seen wrongly? That was—”

“Your highness,” a lively voice came. Turning around, he found General Bouwen dressed in military uniform and sash. At his side, he was accompanied by a single girl.

“Is it true you will be departing tomorrow? Quickly coming and quickly going, aren’t you. I would have loved to talk all about the battle this occasion should you have had the time.”

His eyes were resolute and Orba could feel a determination in them that next time, he would be the one to seize victory. Not to mention, he bore a smile on his young face without a trace of grief over the loss of his men or their bitter defeat. The Tauran soldiers, it seemed, held an honest disposition. So much so that the likes of Orba felt he would get along with them much better than with Mephian nobles.

“That time will come again. I also would like to set foot in Taulia another time.” Orba received a glass of wine of Bouwen and then asked, “This lady would be?”

“She is the daughter of Lord Ax, Lady Esmena.”

“I-I am Esmena Bazgan. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

The woman lowered her flaxen hair and made a bow. Ho—. Orba made an internal appraisal at her beauty. She was taller than Vileena and Ineli, though her face was still young, and also there was something about her gaze that made it look like she was dreaming. It gave a feeling of a tranquil warmth completely free of the world’s hardships or malice, and pure of suffering and destitution.

Seeing her stand beside Bouwen, they looked just like a couple of similar age and height. And speaking of which, Orba spoke out,

“If I‘m correct, I believe that you are engaged to Sir Bouwen.”

“Yes,” Bouwen replied bashfully.

Esmena sharply cut in, “No, that is simply a rumour.”

She ignored Bouwen who had seemingly received a shock and then stepped forward. As if it had been an illusion, her adult-like expression tensed and she directly faced him with crimson cheeks,

“What Bouwen just mentioned before is not wrong, is it? I will get a chance to meet you again, won’t I? No, I am sure we will meet again. I, Esmena Bazgan, shall be going to visit you in the near future after all.”

Th-This is...

She was different from all the women Orba had met until now. She was not like Hou Ran or Ineli, and of course, neither was she like Vileena Owell. He had heard she was nineteen; three years older than Orba.

Alice would, now that I think about it, be about the same age.

That thought suddenly crossed him. There was nothing about Esmena that resembled her, but that one common aspect inadvertently gave Orba a sense of intimacy. It might even have made him sentimental. Orba, who looked at Esmena in a new light, and Esmena whose face turned red as a beet but did not run.

—Ax, watching this from the hall entrance, beckoned Ravan closer.

“What do you make of that?”

He asked while proposing toasts.

“What of it?”

“Esmena, just a while ago, came to speak directly with me. She said to me, ‘With the prince having come to attend in person from their end, we should also send an envoy of peace over to Apta.’ She insisted the person to bear the role be herself. I had wondered why the well-behaved Esmena would propose something like that, but it can’t be...”

“The young bring about behaviour and consequences that we, who have lost that youth to time, may find hard to comprehend.”

“It’s supposed to be the first those those two are meeting, you know.”

“Who knows. It has been quite a time since I have lost my youth.”

Ax gave a grunt.

“I’ve decided to help Mephius in order to unify Tauran. Though they may be our lifelong enemies, we may as well make the most of it having decided on this. However, that prince Gil has himself a betrothed. Presenting Esmena as first wife is one thing, but as a concubine I’m not too sure.”

“For one who calls the prince impulsive, you are plenty rash yourself, my lord.”

“Say what you want. I’m not a man who gets trapped forever by old traditions.”

“Hahaha.”

Ax ignored the old strategists sarcastic prattle.

“It would be better if we could at least receive an imperial lady fit for our Bouwen or my nephew Raswan. That way, we won’t be seen as the underdog of this alliance.”

“If you are suggesting an unmarried imperial woman, then there is the imperial princess, Ineli Mephius. Though it is a result of marriage, she is still the emperor’s daughter.”

“All right. Then let’s have them start working on it in Mephius through their connections.”

“However,” the old strategist Ravan warned, “all of that is so that we can obtain a force greater than our current Taulia. We should expect an even greater battle in our quest to unite Tauran. Do not forget that.”

“And I expect an even greater performance from you also. Defeat Garda and show me a victory that can completely wipe away the two-fold humiliation we received from Mephius,” the lord gave as a little revenge.

Ravan Dol made a grimace but immediately straightened his face and nodded. They shared an odd relationship as vassal and lord.

Soon enough night gave way to day and Orba departed Taulia just before noon. He had hardly gotten any time to rest since he had came to Apta. But Orba felt no fatigue at all. Instead his body and mind were light and he even felt he could still continue on working himself to the bone.

He also had a mountain of things to do once he returned to Apta. He needed to send a messenger to Noue and establish a time and place for a meeting, and of course finish preparations for battle. And it was around time that he wanted to learn of Solon’s reaction over the alliance he formed with Taulia.

As he said before, Orba had already sent a messenger to Solon to tell how, with Garbera’s reinforcements, they were able to desperately defend Apta. If that heightened gratitude towards Garbera and the want to send reinforcements, that was all he needed.

That’s where I can expect movement from Fedom and his men.

Fedom Aulin, naturally, was bound to express anger at Orba’s arbitrary actions, but at the same time he would surely come to Gil Mephius’ defence. He had been frequently keeping in touch with the anti-imperial faction, so they might gather in numbers and support him. Then there was the existence of Simon Rodloom, who most likely commanded the greatest trust amongst the nobles and imperials. And he, as Orba had seen, was a heavily dutiful man.

Within the territory of Apta, there still remained the problem of the bandits. Since his previous inspection, Orba had the former slaves sneak into the surrounding villages to find clues for the bandit’s base. If it came to it, Orba could always use a ship loaded with food and goods as bait to lure them out, so Orba wasn’t in too big a hurry to deal with them.

Lastly, was the problem of their military force.

In the battle this time, they had suffered less than half the casualties of Taulia who had lost over 100 men, but over 50 of the sword slaves wished to withdraw from the infantry. Of course, he had no intentions of straying from his promise of granting them their freedom.

Should i try recruiting soldiers from Apta and Birac?

When he would lead his men as reinforcements for Garbera, he would need to gather more than a good amount of soldiers. As for the recruitment of soldiers in Birac, he planned to ask for Zaj Hamann’s cooperation.

The various problems he harboured were a mountain full, but Orba found them to be worth handling and his eyes brimmed with energy. It did not compare to his days as a boy where he had to drink dirty water off the ground. It also didn’t compare to his life as a gladiator, forced into a fight to the death. The snot-nosed Orba who would pick up a wooden sword in Drought Valley and do nothing but get into fights was right now finally doing something of his own will and accomplishing it by his own strength!

“Oh? That’s quite a happy face you’re making, your highness.”

Shique said grinningly onboard the Dhum bridge.

“It happened I became acquainted with Ax’s daughter at Taulia,” Orba remarked sarcastically.

“I-I don’t believe this..”

“It’s great that you get to make Princess Ineli and these princesses cry, but I’ll be troubled if you forget your true commitment.”

For his joking tone, Shique’s eyes were painfully sharp. He was a slippery man with an easygoing attitude, but when things came to Vileena there were times he turned unrelenting.

“As if I could forget. You should also brace yourself. We’ll be headed to battle soon.”

“Wait, hold on,” Shique renewed his attitude and spoke in a whisper that could not be heard by others, “You might be fine with that, but the soldiers are tired. You should give them time to rest.”

Ahh, two or three days should be fine. That’s enough to get plenty of rest.

Shique expression finally turned to amazement. Orba gave a sideways glance at him and then faced forward. The lush, open sea reflected in the window in front of him. Just as that openness seemed to run on forever, he felt he could also fly on forever.

Part 2

Around that time, a pile of materials stacked near the dragons’ stables where repairs were underway. As far as the eye could see, there wasn’t any part of the fortress not damaged, but even amongst them the priority of the restoration of the stables was high. Of course, they were being mindful to the dragons’ condition. They locked the dragons in the cages they used for transport on the way and managed to calm them for the time being, but there was no telling when they might destroy the cages in a fit of aggravation and run away or break into a fight amongst themselves. That would result in unnecessary damage and casualties.

Even then, having Hou Ran alone was enough to make the situation considerably brighter. She would occasionally bring the large dragons along to the parade ground and have them move around, and the medium and small-sized dragons would participate in the dragoons’ training under her supervision as they currently were, so it didn’t seem very likely the dragons would build up any stress.

That day, as Krau gripped her head in pain from a hangover and drew water from a well near the dragon stables, she nearly dropped the ladle in mute amazement when she came across the sight.

Inside the cage, amidst the dragons’ clamouring stood Hou Ran. Curious as to what she was doing, Krau saw her holding a long brush also used for cleaning the decks scrubbing the dragons’ bodies. Outside the cage, a group of men stood nervously, and occasionally acted on Ran’s instructions and emptied a bucket of water inside.

“Stop, stop, what do you think you’re doing?!”

Krau ran towards her, forgetting all about her hangover. She was convinced that someone had offhandedly made a slave do this as entertainment.

“The dragons are happy when I do this for them.”

She was rather calm.

And in fact, each time Ran brushed against them, the dragons would groan facing their backs to her in a way that let her easily groom them, and wag their tails up and down.

“If I’ll be!” Krau exclaimed in wonder, but that wasn’t all she had to say. “Don’t tell me that you’re actually bad at getting these things. What about you go ask the master for an easier job?”

“An easy job. As in?”

“You’re young and pretty, ya see. All ya gotta do is stay beside him and smile. I also did that and got away from all the painful work when I was young. It doesn’t matter what your status is, cause men are simply creatures you see. Just whisper love into his ears and pull back a little shyly. And if you add on something like ‘I know our statuses are different, but even then I can’t hold back this feeling’, then that’ll be perfect.”

The surrounding soldiers at that moment were startled not by Krau’s flirtful voice but by Ran who broke into a giggle, possibly more startled than when they saw her up close to the dragons.

“I’ll teach you how to sing and dance. And then I’ll teach you the types of topics that catch a man’s interest.”

“It seems harder than taking care of these dragons.”

“It’s simple to learn. At least you won’t have to worry about being teared to shreds by a dragon’s claws or fangs. Hurry and get out. It’s dangerous! I can’t bear to watch.”

“Maybe one day, I’ll have you teach me.”

Ran stroked her brush against the side of a Baian, when another dragon pushed its back onto her insisting on its turn, and she turned around gently caressing its neck.

Having made his way back to Apta, Orba was first about to make his way to his private room, now resituated in the barracks, and finish up his work, but before he had, he suddenly remembered something.

After checking that no one was around, he reached towards his chest. Hanging there was a still somewhat disfigured medal. It weighed on his mind the entire time, but following the hectic amount of work he had the past few days, he had ended up entirely forgetting about it.

And so, Orba decided to pay a visit to the blacksmith alone. Midway, along a garden near the gates leading to the keep, he spotted the back of a single old man. Orba stopped. It was one of the blacksmiths he had seen when he performed an inspection of the fortress.

His name was Sodan, a man with disheveled hair. From his appearance he seemed quite old, but according to him he had yet to reach his sixties. Orba called his name and walked towards him. Sodan turned around. His eyes were more heavy than sharp enough to warrant him a man who could not properly hold a conversation, yet for the situation at hand he paid the proper respects to the prince.

“Is there something you need from me?”

Orba handed him the medal and made his request. Sodan readily agreed to undertake it, so Orba was about to take his leave when his eyes suddenly stopped on the numerous swords buried into the ground. It also caught his interest the last time he noticed them.

Sodan was, as it seemed, picking up the scattered swords that had fallen out of place and returning them to their original positions. Curious, Orba decided to approach him to ask.

“These are gravestones,” Sodan said.

“Gravestones?”

“These are all swords I’ve smithed. The names of dead soldiers are engraved on their blades. Though it isn’t like I’ve remembered all of them. I only engraved the names of the dead whose faces I’ve seen and remembered.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ahh, I seem to have been too short-spoken. These are the graves of soldiers who perished in Apta, is what I mean. I’ve spent the majority of my life here you see, and quite a few of those I know have died. Someone as great as the prince may not understand, but those who died in battle are all cremated together and don’t have their own graves. So I at least crave the names of those I remember and engrave their souls into the swords. But too many lives were claimed in the battle when the fortress was taken by Garbera, and the numbers here are only a fraction of them.”

I see, he said under his breath. Orba gazed at the numerous swords. Names were as he said, carved on the blades. Millan, Ceed, Raphael, Angas...Orba chased after the names of these people whose faces and history Orba did not know and held no significance to him when he suddenly realized. There was something familiar about them. It wasn’t the names. There was a certain style to the engraved letters, something to it that Orba recognized all too well.

Orba quickly called out to Sodan, who had finished returning the swords to their original positions and was about to excuse himself.

“You said that a-all of the swords here were made by you.”

“Yes. What of it?”

“Do you remember this?”

As if he couldn’t stand to waste a single second, Orba quickly removed the sword fixed on his belt. A shortsword sixty centimetres long. On it were engraved letters. It was his own name, ‘Orba’.

“Ho,” Sodan frowned. “That is unmistakably something I made. However, that is surely something unfitting to be carried by the great crown prince. Did you take it out from here? No, there shouldn’t have been a sword I made that size as a gravestone.”

“...I was entrusted it by a certain man. Do you remember? There should have been a man who asked you to make this for him. Could you teach me where that man went, or how he is doing in Apta?”

Without realizing it, Orba approached closer to Sodan.

With the force he approached him and that sword in his hand, it would probably seem like Orba was trying to stab the old man.

Sodan however, did not cower at all.

“I can’t say,” Sodan said thinking. “I have forged a countless number of pieces of equipment after all. They are all to me like how a child is with its toys. I can tell if it is mine and when I made it from looking at the sword’s characteristics, but I do not remember as far as each and every person I gave the swords to.”

As he said this, he reached his hand out to the sword. Orba's chest tightened, but he handed over the sword with a pained expression. Sodan narrowed his eyes and carefully examined the sword from every angle.

“The sword isn’t that old,” he mumbled. “Ten years, no not even that much, it was made five or six years ago. Let’s see, the balance between the blade and handle also feels different from a regular shortsword......Do you know the name of that man?”

“His name is Roan.”

“Roan...Roan. Hmm. I at the least carved his name, so I do feel like I vaguely remember something, but that was along with tens of others. My memories are all getting mixed, and I can’t be sure.”

“Please. Try to remember. I’ll do anything.”

“Even if you say that...Still, I feel like this sword is somehow different from those I normally make...but as for how...”

He tilted his head for some time, then suddenly his heavy eyes opened. Aah. Orba felt his breath stop.

“I remember. It was a strange request. If I’m certain, it wasn’t for himself but his family that he asked me to make this.”

“T-That’s him. It’s unmistakably him.”

“Didn’t he dump the majority of his pay meant for himself in front of me? At the time I was fairly busy, but you could say he was a strong-spirited one and I felt myself moved and wanting to have a go. A request for a sword that a child can handle. I had never made anything like it, so it also slightly stoked my urge to make it.”

“And then? And then what happened to that man, Roan?” Orba asked him restlessly.

He had long forgotten he was currently wearing the mask of ‘Gil’.

“What happened?” Sodan slumped his narrow shoulders. “He was a regular soldier stationed in Apta. Of course he—”

It was right when Sodan began to say this.

He did not know why, but Orba, who should have only been paying attention to Sodan thought he felt an ominous presence out of the corner of his eye and turned his sights toward it. There was no one there. Just as before, there were only the numerous swords buried into the ground.

“Ahh.”

Sodan gave a sigh after noticing the direction of Orba’s gaze. Orba silently approached the sword with his sight nailed on its engraving and he pulled it out. Even up close it read the same. The name engraved on it was most certainly,

ROAN

“The last time I saw him was in the middle of Garbera’s siege.” Sodan’s voice sounded strangely muffled. “It was after the commanders all fled, you see but he probably did not know about that. This is what the Mephian soldiers taken captive after the fortress fell said. He encouraged everyone and fought believing reinforcements would come until the end. Afterwards, I saw his body in the pile of dead Mephian soldiers and made him a sword as a gravestone. This is my memory of him.”

“No...way,” Orba muttered, his voice cracking. “He’s a different person. There are others with the name Roan. He’s not the Roan I know...”

“He seems like a important person to you. Please wait a moment.”

Sodan returned to his workshop and brought out a bundled piece of parchment and handed it to Orba. Orba received it half-dazed and opened the paper.

The sword’s design was drawn there. Orba gulped. He could immediately tell this was something drawn by his brother Roan. It was a blueprint. It specifically indicated where the letters of ORBA should be engraved. Below it was a sketch of a person’s hand.

“Make it so it easily be held with a hand this size, he told me,” Sodan told him.

Orba trembled.

Even after Sodan stood the sword against the wall and gave his farewells, Orba did not move from that spot for a long time.

Orba placed his hand over the sketched hand. Of course, his hand already already grown much bigger and they no longer overlapped. But he was sure he could feel a warmth there.

“See you, Orba.”

The warmth of his brother who, for some reason, asked for that handshake six years ago.

Wasn’t that so he could prepare this? To remember and measure the size of his little brother’s hand with his own.

Orba trembled, for a long time.

At that time Vileena came to welcome the prince, but it was when he had already disembarked the ship, so she made her way to his private room only to find he had not returned yet.

She didn’t have any important business with him, but once Vileena set her mind on something she would carry it out. Be that as it may, chasing around after the prince with no important business could be considered unacceptable in itself, so she searched for some plausible reason.

They should be having a conference for when they send reinforcements to Garbera. Maybe I should ask if I could attend.

For the time being, she had given herself a reason that would justify her visit. Still, if she badgered him too much about it, that would only have the opposite effect. First, I shall give my congratulations and curry his favour. she reflected.

Dealing with a child has its troubles.

She nearly giggled. She felt she had gotten somewhat closer to this man named Gil.

Men engaged in the fortress’ repairs ran back and forth. Most of them were shirtless and Vileena could feel her cheeks reddening, but she endured it and asked for the prince’s whereabouts.

“He went up the keep’s central stairs not too long ago.”

“I see, thank you!”

As soon as she thanked him, she flung her head around and ran off. Quickly, one of the men called to her,

“The inside of the keep is dangerous! There’s a chance of collapse, so don’t enter any way with a rope up!”

Vileena waved her hand to acknowledge her understanding, but never turned back.

For no reason at all, the men exchanged glances and smiled.

When he came to, Orba was on the fortress’ uppermost level.

The majority of the uppermost level had been destroyed by the bombing, so to be more accurate this was the chamber of the floor below. Here and there the floor caved in, cracks could be found, and the room was littered with debris and dark soot. Across the upper-half of the decimated wall was the evening sky. The dark clouds crept heavily across the thin, vermillion-lit sky.

He’s dead.

And here, under the sight of the damaged fortress and blood-stained corridors and hillside, Orba found himself quite literally overtaken by the true sense of that word. The evening vermillion, red as blood, soaked into Orba’s eyes and had him picture himself as Roan, seeing the sprawled corpses of the soldiers lying there at the time.

Dead?

Just by closing his eyes, the scene at that moment vividly came to him. His brother, wearing a mismatched set of armor and helmet, brandishing his seemingly heavy sword and encouraging his friends who lost their fighting spirit, then running out believing help would come.

Orba collapsed on his hands and knees, feeling the ground beneath him might cave in at any moment.

They’re taking too long to come.

Droplets fell down staining the floor.

They are taking too long to come, aren’t they, Roan.

He knew somewhere that there was no way his brother had lived. He knew this since six years ago. And yet, if he didn’t ascertain it himself he could not accept that conclusion. It was that tiny inkling of a wish he harboured, so small that it could not even be considered hope.

And even more so after becoming the prince’s body double and finding that faint light lit towards his future.

His hope expanded again when he had jumped out where the open sun shone. He felt if he gained power as prince, he could one day reunite with Roan, Alice, and his mother.

Now, he realised it was all an illusion.

Recruit soldiers?

He was revolted by the he who thought that way. Those high commanders saw the simple soldier as nothing but numbers. Roan was unmistakably one of them. And without his name even being remembered, he had fallen as a corpse. Then once the battle ended, he was lumped together as nothing but a number in the casualties.

I’m the same as Oubary. I’m the same as those rotten Mephian nobles.

Unnoticed, someone stood frozen behind Orba breaking down into a loud wail. She stared on in surprise and, as if she had seen something she should not have, suddenly turned her back and quickly descended the flight of stairs.

Part 3

Things flow on without pause. Even if the same event were to happen to two people, one might blow past like the wind while another might find himself swallowed like a wave and sent to some unexpected place.

As for whether these should be called their individual fates or the simple flow of time, that would be for the people of the future to decide.

Noue Salzantes had received the following notice in the lands of Garbera.

Gil Mephius not only repelled Ax Bazgan’s forces which had marched their way into Apta but formed an alliance with them two days later.

“Fufu.”

“Lord Noue, you look happy.”

Roger, commander of the calvary, said to him. They were busy preparing for the war. Currently, the Garberan roads were filled with travelling groups of cavalrymen and infantry, and items necessary for the upcoming war.

“Not particularly. Just that with this, it has become easier to move.”

Noue smiled and left the library, exiting the living quarters. Soon the seasonal winds would blow across the Garberan lands. Now that he remembered, Ryucown did enjoy viewing the bending grass fields as he took a leisure stroll on his horse.

Gil Mephius. I had thought he resembled Ryucown, but that is something different.

What Ryucown possessed that Gil did not was ‘charm’. He was overflowing with intelligence and wit, but there was something of a gap to it. That gap of his was what fascinated others. Something that made others think, ‘He would be hopeless if I wasn’t there for him’. This was what drove them to want to gain his trust, and to exhibit their abilities greater than they normally would.

However, Gil most likely does not have that leisure.

Being watched by those eyes was unnerving. He could not tell what the man was scheming under those eyes. There was no charismatic aspect that fervidly won over his men, but it did make Noue think that he did not want him as an enemy.

I can’t deny I’ve felt that myself on more than one occasion. But in these warring times I can’t tell how far we take this path of cooperation with Mephius. I shall make the most of it and fully gauge his capabilities while he remains an ally.

That, to Noue, was the greatest enjoyment of all.

At the same time in the territory of Mephius, a battalion of men rode towards Apta.

At the helm, leading these 500 soldiers was Oubary Bilan. Having successfully quelled the slaves’ rebellion, he had been ordered by the emperor to head for Apta without any time to rest.

It was when he drew near Apta, a day’s travel away, that he discovered an alliance had been formed with Taulia.

“He joined hands with the foul Bazgans? Ha!” Oubary sneered, taking residence in one of the more luxurious inns in town for their rest stop. On the floor were several female slaves waiting on him that he had bought from the nearby Kiluro.

“He’s finally overstepped his line. Let him pray he hasn’t earned the emperor’s wrath.”

The decade-long war that continued with Garbera had been brought to a close through a political marriage and next, just when he thought he could deal with their lifelong enemy, the Bazgans, he found that an alliance had also been formed with them. For one such as Oubary who raised his name through battles and found that it was only through battles that he could satiate himself,

“Things are getting less and less amusing.”

-those were his wholehearted feelings.

And in the imperial capital, Solon.

Similarly to Orba who had made his way to Apta, Fedom Aulin was swamped with a busyness enough to shave away at his lifespan. ‘Support the prince and the should the situation require it rise against the emperor’—operating under this agenda Fedom had at long last acquired an adequate number of supporters; just as he was at the point where could think this, he heard from others talk of the alliance formed with Taulia.

“I can’t tolerate this any more.”

He furiously rode his horse for his mansion located in Solon.

It was the talk of the nobles in the palace, and the majority took this as Gil’s defeat. It was widely known that his thwarting Ax’s first attacked owed mainly to Garbera’s reinforcements and that in the second battle, Apta fortress had been so much as half destroyed.

Most likely, there was some ongoing situation in the Tauran provinces that he needed to turn his attention to, so he attacked Apta and threatened Gil into an alliance in order to subdue Mephius for the meanwhile. That the imperial crown prince Gil Mephius had unconcernedly come to Apta with only a handful of troops must have been like a godsend to Ax.

“It seems the prince’s grace ends here.”

Many of the nobles decidedly agreed on this. But to generals like Rogue Saian, his defeat wasn’t unreasonable.

“The prince deserves to be praised for defending with a force that small. Damn it to hell, If I had known Ax would really attack us at full force I would have pushed these old bones of mine and ran to his aid, even at the expense of rousing the emperor’s anger.”

It was the prince’s first time facing a defensive battle. In addition, there were no experienced commanders there to support him. Amongst the generals, voices of sympathy were predominant.

When the emperor received the news, he made a scornful and disbelieving sort of mutter. And he said he would take Ax’s head...

“Now then let me ask you, men. What kind of letter shall I deliver to my foolish son Gil? A fatherly one of gratitude? Or a rebuke to the fool who fell behind the Bazgans, our long-time enemy?”

On the other hand Fedom Aulin, through the page Dinn, was given a more detailed report on the situation than what the other nobles had received. Included was how Orba was the one to corner Ax, and how it was by his own judgment that he decided on the alliance. He could no longer tolerate turning a blind eye to Orb’s behaviour.

Isn’t there some sort of handy magic that Hermann can use? Something like those often found in legends and lore, that can easily control someone?

One the one hand, Fedom was nearly about to lose himself in his anger, but this event also sprouted a response favourable for Fedom. It was because the emperor’s outrageous treatment towards his own son had prompted frowns from many of the aristocrats.

I’ll start everything once Orba returns to Solon. Then I’ll introduce all the supporters to him. That is when my battle truly begins.

And for that cause, he first needed to bend Orba to his will. Fedom arrived at his mansion, dropped down from his horse, loudly pushed open his door and called out Hermann’s name.

But it was his page who had come to inform him a guest was waiting. He frowned and asked who it was.

“Good day, Lord Aulin.”

Giving a glance at the young girl who smiled at him in the main room, he quickly adopted a courteous attitude.

“If this isn’t Princess Ineli. I’m deeply obliged by you specially coming.”

It had been a while since he had seen Ineli in person, ever since Zaat’s rebellion. Her already fair white skin seemed to have paled a bit more and perhaps due to her exhaustion, her eyes seemed bigger than usual. Still, Ineli released a bewitching smile that did not match her age.

“I had something to ask Lord Aulin so I took the opportunity to wait here.”

“To ask me? Well, I’m not sure if I know anything that might interest the princess.”

“It’s about my brother.”

Fedom’s forced smile momentarily turned stiff. At his reaction, Ineli turned her eyes up and asked questioningly,

“Somehow, the relationship between you and my brother has suddenly turned good. There are even a bunch of rumors spreading in the palace. How you are raising the prince, whom no one paid a glance at, and might be building a force against the emperor.”

“Truly an interesting joke.”

“Isn’t it also around that time that brother changed, I wonder.”

Ineli continued smiling. Feeling sweat overtaking him, Fedom called a page over and ordered him to prepare some tea.

“Changed....he has changed, you say?”

“Yes. Many have said that it is as if the person himself has changed, no? He saved Princess Vileena at Seirin Valley, defeated Ryucown on his first campaign, and just recently, predicted Zaat’s rebellion and prevented it before it could take place.”

“Men are creatures that can grow into a different person in the blink of three days. This holds especially for the imperials who spend their days aware of the mission and responsibility entrusted to them through their noble blood...”

“I would also like to think that,” Ineli said softly, interrupting Fedom’s words.

“But don’t you think the change is a bit too severe? That time, when I was about to be taken away by Zaat in particular. Brother chased after me on an airship and even after being shot by Zaat, he triumphed. They were things I heard of from the time at Seirin Valley and the time he fought Ryucown as well, but it was at this moment that I came to see the ‘changed’ prince.”

“As I was saying, that is...”

As Fedom was about to send a laugh,

“Yes. Allow me to jump to the point.”

Ineli elegantly lifted up the cup of tea the page brought over, pursed her lips, and took a sip.

Ineli spoke the words like a whisper. “The current Gil Mephius—isn’t he perhaps an impostor?”