Rakuin no Monshou

Volume 10, 2: Nedain

Volume 10, Chapter 2: Nedain

Part 1

Solon, the capital of Mephius.

Although there had been no magnificent and ceremonial departure, the populace was, of course, aware that an army led by Folker Baran had started off on its march some time earlier. It was headed towards Apta Fortress by way of Birac to go and suppress the fool that was arrogantly pretending to be Crown Prince Gil – who had been assassinated by the West – and the Generals Rogue Saian and Odyne Lorgo, who had shown signs of rebellion.

But it lost.

The Mephian host, organised by the emperor himself, had been defeated in battle against the impostor crown prince and even Birac, the centre for foreign trade, had been taken. Fedom Aulin, the lord of Birac, had whole-heartedly welcomed the crown prince and it was even said that “Birac treated it like the return of a true king.”

The people trembled.

Although the omens indicated that the fires of war might swallow the whole of Mephius, what they feared even more than that was Emperor Guhl Mephius. From their manner, it was as though they truly dreaded that the emperor’s fury might transform at any moment into dark clouds swirling over Solon from which bolts of lightning would come crashing.

Endless rumours were already being whispered throughout the city.

They said that in his unabating rage, the emperor had taken more than half of the soldiers who had escaped and had thrown them to the dragons.

They said that the emperor’s sycophantic vassal lords had presented him with a hundred slaves each and that in retaliation for having lost the battle, the emperor had personally cut off each of their heads until the temple of the Dragon Gods’ faith had been steeped in blood.

They said that the emperor intended to soon call up Mephius’ entire army, including the border garrisons, to Solon and send all of it to attack Birac.

The Emperor’s behaviour had recently been tyrannical, and a terrifying image of him was firmly taking root among the people.

For them, because so many projects had been put off in favour of constructing the Dragon Gods’ temple, the emperor and the Dragon Gods’ faith were one and the same. They dreaded that, in the depths of the temple, where none of them were ever allowed to tread, sinister schemes were, even now, moving forward.

“What will happen from now on?” They asked each other when they met.

Fundamentally, in Apta, Birac, Solon, and the rest of Mephius, the people shared the same unfathomable fear for the future.

Just as the rumours said, Guhl Mephius was certainly enraged. Those who were gathered at the main palace all had their heads lowered, like a group of apostates fearing the wrath of a god.

However, the emperor, separated from them by a long flight of stairs, neither burst into angry words nor struck the ground before him with his crystal-ornamented staff.

“So Folker lost as well?” Facing the people who always gathered for the morning council, the emperor spoke in the same tone as if nothing had happened the previous day. “And moreover, Folker, Yuriah and Zaas are all three being held captive in Birac? Has there been any demand for ransom from the enemy, Colyne?”

“Yes. I-I mean, no, that is... not yet.” Not even Colyne Isphan, the noble who was currently closest to the emperor, dared to look him full in the face.

“So they can’t even assess how much the defeated generals are worth in ransom money. Even for them, that’s disappointing.”

He spoke dispassionately as he sat on his throne, but that in itself seemed to call down a silence as still as death within the audience chamber.

Emperor Guhl Mephius had not killed slaves or soldiers with his own hands, as was whispered in the city.

“Rogue and Odyne’s families are being detained in Solon, are they not?” Guhl asked Colyne just as he rose from the throne, exactly as though he were getting confirmation on some trivial matter.

“Y-Yes!”

“Lock them up in the dungeons of the Tower of Four Wings. The two generals will of course have been prepared for at least that much.”

“Is he serious?”

After the emperor had left the audience hall, the nobles and military men who had remained behind talked in hushed voices.

“Is His Majesty really planning to execute the families of the generals?”

“Of course not. It’s just a threat.”

“Then what if Rogue and the others don’t let themselves be intimidated by that threat?”

“Then at that point...”

They gulped. There was a silence in which each seemed to shrink into themselves.

“If only Lord Simon were here at a time like this.”

“Don’t.”

“No, it’s not too late, even now. We can talk with Lord Rodloom and ask him to write a letter to His Majesty.”

“How would we talk with him? Lord Simon is under house arrest. His estate is under watch and you can be sure that His Majesty receives reports about every person who comes or leaves from it.”

Silence once more.

The principal lords and military commanders of Mephius had naturally received a shock when Birac was seized. They were curious about the person who claimed to be the crown prince and also felt an indistinct anxiety about the future. But what prevailed above all other emotions was, unsurprisingly, fear of the emperor.

What the real feelings of the Dragon-hearted Emperor – as Guhl Mephius was called in both awe and derision – were at this time not easy to guess. Guhl had immediately hurried the reorganisation of his forces, but at the same time, he seemed concerned that if he pursued the brute force approach any further, the insurrection would spread.

As proof of his worry, after giving his order to the retainers, he summoned a certain group.

The place was a corner of the temple of the Dragon Gods’ faith. The time was late at night.

There was a strange group of six. All of them had hoods drawn low over their faces. All of them were silently kneeling on one knee on the floor cut from rock. They looked for all the world like sacrifices waiting quietly for the moment when their heads were to be ceremonially severed.

All of them had arrived in Solon only a few days before. Each, however, through a different process.

This one, for example, had been serving as a mercenary in the defence forces at Idoro, but had slipped away like a deserter and had arrived in Solon seven days ago. That other one had established himself in one of the poor villages in the north that dotted the buffer zone with Zonga, living there with his family; but then, again about seven days ago, he and his family had suddenly appeared to have vanished, only for him to show up in Solon. Besides them, there were those who had been in the east until half a month ago, one working as a tool craftsman in Garbera, another as a pedlar wandering between villages in Ende.

The truth was that they were secret agents, in service to the emperor since their youth. Their main duty was to gather intelligence throughout the land and in foreign countries; and so they were sent to live and take root in those various areas. There were those among them who had families in foreign countries who had been living there for generations.

Of those, six who were particularly competent had been summoned.

Within the flickering light from a single candle, a man with a stooped back, his face also hidden by a hood, appeared before the group that crouched silently and motionlessly.

“We have received a secret letter,” he told them.

The document was unfolded under the light and six pairs of eyes converged towards it.

Steal into Birac and gather information – it read.

The scale of the military forces, the movements of the generals, confirmation of the Garberan princess’ survival, the layout of the guards, the atmosphere within the city – the list of items was endless.

They also included ones about the crown prince, Gil Mephius. They were to verify his identity of course, but also –

“If you see an opportunity, kill him.” Just as the man with the bent back had said with his viscous voice, this too was written in the letter.

In other words, an order of assassination.

“However, His Majesty’s involvement is not to be divulged. Killing him with poison is out of the question. Frame it as the deed of a loyalist distressed by the country’s internal chaos.”

Nobody said a word.

Which meant that they had not a single question or hesitation towards this difficult mission.

“Now then. You will act at the peril of your lives for His Majesty the Emperor.”

“We will.”

It was the first time that they spoke, and the six voices did so in perfect unison.

At that same moment, and also in the Dragon Gods’ temple in Solon, another meeting was being held in great secrecy.

Although it was late at night, the leading members of the Dragon Gods’ faith were all assembled in a room in the deepest recesses of the temple. At its centre was a crystal table.

It was only the barest of light which illuminated the faces of the old men, but when someone gave the order “Put it out,” the room was plunged into darkness.

But only for an instant.

Had a new light been lit beneath the table? Innumerable pale luminous points glowed within the crystal slab. At first one, then two lit up at a leisurely pace, but the speed with which they appeared gradually increased until finally they were multiplying in a literal flash.

A starry night sky seemed to be appearing before the elders.

The same old man who had given the order to “put out” the light placed his hands on that sky and rose from his seat. He was comparatively young among the elders but everyone there looked at him with reverence.

“We are small,” the old man spoke again. “Terribly small and weak existences. If they were to be compared to this sky, the strength of each individual would amount to no more than that of stars that are invisible to the eye.” He pointed to a space on the long table. There, a point of light was glimmering, so faintly that you could only make it out by straining your eyes.

“However, if, for example, we can serve to guide a different, much stronger light,” the old man moved his finger to another spot, where a much brighter light was shining. As the elder pressed down hard with his finger, the luminous point shook greatly, then started to move along with the finger. While leaving behind it a faint trail, it approached the other light and, perhaps because both were being illuminated, both lights shone more clearly.

The old man nimbly moved both hands and, sometimes gathering the scattered lights together, sometimes pulling them apart, he drew countless glimmering trails across the illusionary sky.

“If we guide one, another will be caught up, and that other will pull along a great many other fates.”

There was a certain artistry to it. Whenever the old man waved a finger, the brilliance of the stars increased, whenever he pulled his finger along, the trail emitted light, constructing some kind of figure. “This is a diagram of fate. Even without nudging it from outside, because these fates are in resonance, they will eventually start to move by themselves in search of the golden mean and will build the ideal world that I imagine. Soon this world will be waxing full with of ether, which will allow us to oppose ‘that’ which plans to hold sovereignty over it.”

The crystal now shone with a blueish light so bright that it was impossible to look at it directly. The elders closed their eyes as though dazzled, or perhaps it was out of awe, as the mysterious, impossible light washed over their faces.

But –

The lights suddenly vanished. Like the flames of a row of candles, blown out in a strong breeze. Some of the stars just barely managed to resist and continue twinkling, but before long, their feeble, struggling light died out just as the others had.

In a world that had once more been plunged into darkness, as though waiting for the elders to open their eyes –

“Gil Mephius.”

The same man whispered a name that echoed eerily. “Strange. A star which should already have vanished has come and is emitting an unexpected radiance. More than unexpected. Great enough to throw into disarray the diagram of fate centred around Guhl that we had constructed for Mephius.”

“An impostor,” one of the elders said in a hoarse voice. “...He must be. Without a doubt. The crown prince of yore did not have a radiance that could affect the diagram of fate to that extent.”

“Just what have you been looking at until now?” Another interposed. “A person’s radiance can change easily. Among those that we have guided, there have been many who have similarly changed.”

“It doesn’t matter whether he is an impostor or the real thing,” yet another gravely interrupted. He looked up towards the first elder. “Let us extinguish him.”

The others followed in agreement but –

“We cannot directly intervene with those who already emit such radiance,” the old man’s words were strange. “It has already started to guide a great many other fates. Perhaps this too is the result of having moved the stars with our own hands but, no, we cannot speak of there being one single cause. If we forcefully intervene, the resonance of fates will collapse and we will have to build everything up again from scratch.”

Hatred burned clearly in the old man’s eyes that were usually like empty pits.

“When we were going to extinguish Ax, we wasted a great many stars and their surrounding trails. And the result was that it ended in failure. Thanks to that, we lost a considerable amount of influence in the west. That damnable Barbaroi, their intervention was faster than anticipated.”

“Then, could the crown prince possibly have been involved in that?”

“No. Even if it was not completely unrelated, I intend to find out at whose instigation that was. For those reasons, we cannot use ether and have to leave the crown prince’s fate to the workings of humans. ...Don’t worry, there are many number of ways of doing it.”

When the old man spoke, he once again extended his finger towards the lower edge of the table from which all the lights had died out. Lights like small grains of sands then appeared there.

“We will set our hands to guiding new destinies. These were originally people who were unnecessary to the diagram that we drew, but... there’s no help for it. We will guide them. Guide them, and then...” The old man’s tone once more returned to something reminiscent of nothingness. “We will have them kill Gil Mephius.”

Part 2

The Emperor had imprisoned the families of Generals Rogue and Odyne in the undergrounds of the tower.

It did not take long for that information to reach Birac. It was no more than a rumour, but the emperor did nothing to either deny that rumour or halt its spread. Rather, one of his goals had been for that ‘rumour’ to be reported in Birac.

Although this was well within predictions, Orba could not remain indifferent.

He had personally met Rogue’s wife and son at their residence. He was also acquainted with Odyne’s youngest daughter. He remembered how Odyne’s daughter, Lannie, made fun of Rogue’s son, Romus, for so often spending time at Hou Ran’s side.

They were now locked up within cold stone walls. Spending each day fearing that their execution would be held the next, or the day after that. How long would twelve, thirteen-year-old children be able to endure that? No, in his present state, the emperor might really separate their young heads from the rest of their bodies.

His chest felt as though it were seething. He had never been good at simply waiting without doing anything. He wanted to seize the grip of his sword and march onto Solon Palace right this second. The nobles and soldiers who would follow this bastard are nothing but fools – how good it would feel to fling that directly at them.

But of course, he could not act hastily now. He bore the responsibility for a great many lives. And not only lives but also for immeasurable hopes and resolve, amongst which were those of Rogue and Odyne themselves.

The two generals came to see him together. To submit the charts of the changes they had made within their troops and to talk about the future.

Rogue had bought a number of ships through Zaj Haman, thereby increasing their war potential. They were, however, lacking in people who knew how to handle them. It was obviously not something that could be left to neophytes and mercenaries. The ships and carriers were flying every day in the skies over Birac so as to train the newcomers in his group.

Odyne had purchased some new model cannons. As well as having reinforced Birac’s battery positions, he was making its assembled militia undergo firearm drills until they were dripping with sweat.

“We gained valuable time,” they both agreed. In the atmosphere particular to that period before the outbreak of fighting, the soldiers were improving at a rate visible to the naked eye.

“A man I thought was never going to be of any use is now serving as a squadron leader.”

“Is it the same for you General Saian? For me too, ever since Tolinea, the number of my men that I seemed to have misjudged is endless.”

In front of the two of them whose faces were as firm and radiant as though they had freshly been scrubbed clean, Orba remained taciturn.

“Your Highness,” smiled Rogue. It was right after the sun had set and Dinn had lit the lamps in the room. Bathed in their light, the old general’s eyes were shining like a boy’s. “I understand your sentiments so much that it hurts. As time wears on, the people are thrown into turmoil and the country risks ruin. But it is as Your Highness told us at the beginning, what matters now is to wait.”

“Exactly,” Odyne nodded, “when country lapses into chaos, there will inevitably be victims. To risk a great fire simply to save a minority of victims would be the height of folly. When standing at one of the great junctions of history, one must always keep the whole picture in mind.”

Implicit in their allusions was the fact that their families were included among those “victims”. Orba clenched his fists tightly beneath the table.

Even if the reason for action was to prevent there being many victims, there would without fail be those who fell wounded or dead because of it. Even though he understood that, Orba’s decisions could no longer be for his sake alone.

Waiting was the only way.

Looking at the broader picture, Orba temporarily halting his advance in Birac was an effective policy. What Guhl was the most cautious of was preventing the crack within Mephius from spreading any wider, but also of the Impostor crown prince having a personal connection to the West.

Is he trying to lure us to him by deliberately stopping there? Guhl would be sure to wonder.

For the emperor, what was more dangerous even than the recent defeat would be leaving the economic cornerstone that was Birac as it was. It not only risked causing the people to lose sympathy for the emperor as they were won over by a new hero, but also risked alienating the nobles and military from him.

As such, he would have no choice other than to be cautious. Capturing Birac would not be possible without arranging for a sufficient number of his best forces, gathering enough information about the enemy and, of course, choosing a suitable time to attack.

And so, both Orba and Guhl’s lives were currently spent in a succession of war councils.

With the second coming of the crown prince and his capture of Birac, history was violently shaken. This had created a succession of ripples, both large and small, which in an instant, turned into a wave of ‘change’ that was poised to sweep through all of Mephius, or even the entire centre of the continent.`

But in truth, even though the ripples were like those produced by a large earthquake and were spreading wider and wider, time was unnaturally standing still. Just as Orba had feared, this was because it was difficult for both the crown prince and the emperor to guess even a single move that the other would make. And on both sides, there was also the calculation that this could not take too much time.

Advance, walk, move.

No matter how much he feigned composure when addressing the soldiers as they trained, or the people of Birac as they plied their trade, inwardly, he was incessantly repeating these words like a mantra.

Wait, advance.

And then –

About half a month after Orba had taken Birac, things finally started to budge.

Nedain in the east was a city that stood halfway between Birac and Solon, the capital. It had been built around an air carrier relay base that had been established several hundred years ago, when there had still been trade with the west. After a war with the northern city-state of Io, it had then developed into a fortress town; but now, its vitality had faded and the region was synonymous for “provincial” even in Mephius, which was known for being rustic.

A certain situation had arisen in Nedain since before the crown prince’s resuscitation in Apta. At the time of the slave revolt in Kilro, and probably because he believed that it risked arousing hot-blooded youths, the lord of Nedain, Jairus Abigoal, had visibly overreacted.

One of the slaves from a long-established merchant house had murdered his master and escaped. The slave, who then fled to one of the neighbouring villages, was still only a boy. Perhaps taking pity on his youth, the villagers had sheltered him while knowing practically nothing of his circumstances.

Jairus had dispatched an armed troop. The village, with its people and the boy still inside, was burned to the ground. The lord of Nedain was determined to avoid a repeat of Kilro by trampling any flicker of rebellion underfoot.

This however caused no little resentment.

The first to protest against the city-lord’s actions was a young aristocrat named Raymond Peacelow. He was a young man who served under Jairus and who was in charge of supervising the security and management of the surrounding villages.

Raymond had proceeded towards Solon and had revealed Jairus actions to the emperor. The Emperor of Mephius however had shown little interest in the matter. And as a result, Raymond had been captured by Jairus, taken back to Nedain and imprisoned.

At around the same time, an unexpected guest had visited Nedain. The Princess of Garbera, Vileena Owell, herself.

She had brought up the subject of Raymond whilst seated at a meal with Jairus. Even though her words were brief, the princess successfully coerced Jairus by implying that her words were in accordance with the emperor’s thoughts.

Raymond was released.

Since the young man was gentle by nature and had many opportunities to regularly come into contact with the populace, he was greatly loved by the townspeople of Nedain and by the inhabitants of the surrounding villages. Those villages had jointly organised a congratulatory banquet in his honour.

There were signs that a disturbance was once more creeping up on Nedain.

As soon as Boyce Abigoal noticed the Peacelow siblings walking along the pathway from the other direction, he and his companions came to a halt.

“Oh, well now. I haven’t seen you in quite some time, Raymond.”

Raymond and his younger sister Louise stopped. They bowed.

“Lord Boyce.”

Boyce was a well-built young man and, despite being a year younger than the twenty-six-year-old Raymond, he was a head taller. As his name indicated, he was the lord of Nedain, Jairus’, only son. His face that was glistening with sweat was full of vigour and, coupled with his powerful physique, the impression he gave was a bit like that of a wild beast. From what he explained, they seemed to be returning from a hunt.

“Lord Boyce brought down three deer,” one of his hangers-on bared his teeth as he laughed.

Behind Raymond, Louise’s expression turned sombre but, perhaps not noticing it, Boyce brought his face up close towards the siblings.

“I’m thinking of grilling the meat in the garden and eating it right away. How about you two come as well? I’ve just gotten some good liquor from one of the merchants too.”

“Thank you, but the likes of us are...”

“Right, wasn’t it that the believers of Badyne can’t eat meat?”

“No,” Raymond shook his head with a sour expression, “there is nothing that we cannot eat but we must consecrate the animal whose life we are about to take to God. After praying morning and evening for three days, we can then eat it.”

“How stupid,” Boyce said scornfully. “Eat when you want to eat, drink when you want to drink. There’s no better happiness than that.”

“If I’m not wrong, women of the Badyne faith can only share a bed with their chosen man, right?”

“Ahaha. The god of Badyne really likes putting people in shackles. Only the sort of people that like being oppressed are fit to be his believers.”

His companions opened their mouths wide as they laughed. An angry expression flashed across Raymond’s face. But a slender white hand clasped his clenched fist from behind. Raymond just barely managed to avoid exposing his emotions by bending down his head.

Raymond came from a powerful family native to a territory that was currently in Garbera’s possession. It had fallen under Mephian control for a time, during which, the Peacelow family had obtained the status of Mephian nobles. In accordance with the customs of that region, the family had belonged to the Badyne faith for generations.

Because of that, he had often felt small and humiliated in Mephius, where the Dragon Gods faith had become the state religion. He had frequently experienced scenes like these in which he was looked down on or scorned.

“Anyway, what kind of business did you have with Father to come to the mansion today?”

“It was merely for our regular consultation.”

“That so? And here I thought for sure that Sir Raymond’s bad habit was rearing up again,” Boyce’s thick lips twisted into a smile.

“My bad habit?”

“Your habit, Sir Raymond, of going on endlessly about small issues. Last time, there was that quarrel involving that one slave brat. Who knows if you won’t kick up a fuss directly before His Majesty even now.”

Raymond remained silent.

Just the other day, Jairus Abigoal, lord of Nedain, had once again harmed his own people.

It was just after the rumour had reached them that a person claiming to be the crown prince had appeared in Apta to the southwest, and had sent a letter to the emperor in Solon. Several young men had been discussing the topic in a tavern. All of them were very drunk.

“It’s not surprising that a hero would be immortal.”

And so on.

“Defending the West really does seem like something the crown prince, who righteously honoured the pledge with Garbera, would do.”

And so on, until finally, they all reached fever pitch.

“Let’s approach Lord Jairus and ask him to definitely cooperate with the crown prince.”

“No, would the crown prince, who honours righteousness, have any kind feelings for our lord? Lord Jairus is more likely to be scared of being condemned and run away.”

They had said, laughing.

Jairus heard about it.

In his rage, he had them dragged before him. Of the five who stood in a row, their faces pale, four had fallen to their knees and had pleaded that the alcohol had run away with their tongues. Only one of them, even though the blood had also drained from his face, had openly declared –

“Your Excellency. The crown prince has righteousness on his side. Please think about the future of Mephius.”

Three days later, he was hung in Nedain’s town square. Because they had deliberately chosen to do so in the opening hour for the morning market, his corpse had been there for many of the fief’s people to see.

That was what Boyce Abigoal was bringing up.

“Were you not going to honour Father with your advice again?”

“No. I have nothing in particular to say to Lord Jairus about it. Please excuse us.” Raymond bowed again and, seeming to be pulling his sister by the hand, left Boyce’s presence.

Just as they passed one another, Boyce gaze fell on Louise’s profile. She was seventeen. Boyce’s gleaming eyes crawled from her face to her body, clinging to her like a spider’s thread.

“What’s with that, so lame,” when the two of them were still in sight, one of his hangers-on said out loud, intending to be heard.

Another of Boyce’s friends nodded empathetically, “Last time, he had a lot more to say.”

“Hah, has the bold Sir Raymond had his sharpened fangs broken off?”

Boyce himself said nothing, but his lips were curved in a scornful smile.

Part 3

That night.

To the north of Nedain there was a relatively large quarry.

It was sunk in shadows. Drinking songs carried by the wind could be heard from far away. No doubt the masons who were staying overnight were getting drunk on cheap liquor.

A person with their hood drawn down low had unexpectedly turned up there, then continued along the narrow path leading to the quarry.

“Oho, a guest?” Several masons barred the way. Walking up with tottering footsteps, they surrounded the person in the hood from both sides.

“Sorry, but this is a private party. No outsiders welcome.”

“At least bring a present. You got any booze with you?”

Since they performed heavy labour every day, they were a burly-looking bunch. The person wearing a hood however did not seem panicked and instead said something strange –

“I don’t have anything with me today. But one day we’ll share a toast in Solon.”

The drunken-seeming men promptly drew up straight.

“It’s you, Lord Raymond.”

“We were rude.”

“No,” the face that appeared when the hood was pulled back was undoubtedly that of Raymond Peacelow, “you’re being excellently thorough. It’s only if you weren’t that I’d be bothered.”

Raymond himself had decided on the exchange of passwords.

Nearly three hundred men were making merry but, when Raymond’s figure appeared in the doorway, just like the lookouts had earlier, they all stood straight to greet him.

“Everyone, at ease,” Raymond called out, but the men’s attitude remained as it was.

They wore rough, shabby clothes on their muscular bodies, and their faces were grimy and black from the sweat and dust of manual labour. But they gazed at Raymond with a fiery radiance in their eyes.

Their ages ranged between twenty and fifty years old. Their occupations were actually equally varied and only about half of them were originally masons. The remaining half were the second or third sons of craftsmen, farmers, or merchants.

One man stepped forward from among them and wordlessly took Raymond’s hand. He seemed to be somewhere in his mid-thirties. It was him however who had caused Raymond to make a certain decision.

“Lord Raymond, it was good of you to come.”

“Dolph,” Raymond spoke his name and clasped his hand firmly.

If you brought up the topic of a man named Dolph with, say, the father and son of the Abigoal family, they would undoubtedly tilt their heads in confusion, wondering who and what you were talking about. Dolph himself however held an uncommonly strong feeling towards the House of the lords of Nedain.

Hatred.

Dolph was the older brother of the young man who had recently been hung. Not only that, but his older sister had married into the village which had been set alight by the forces dispatched by Jairus Abigoal. Which meant that in a very short period of time, he had lost his sister, his brother-in-law, and his younger brother.

All at the hands of Lord Jairus Abigoal.

When the village had burned down, he had raged that “I’ll kill Jairus!” His brother had talked him out of it in tears. His younger brother, who had only just decided to get married. Of course, he too shared the agonising pain of losing their older sister, but when he clung to him, saying –

“What will those of us you’ve left behind do if we lose you now too?” Dolph had wavered. From the start, he had only had the smallest hope of being successful in his revenge.

It was at that point that Raymond, hearing about the situation, had rushed to find him.

“Please, Dolph. Endure. I am going to gallop to Solon right now. I intend to appeal directly to His Majesty about this.”

In honour of the completion of the new temple in Solon, Jairus himself also planned to go to the capital. Raymond would bring Jairus’ actions to the light under his very eyes.

“Don’t do anything hasty before I return. Have faith in me please and wait.”

Although he was young, Raymond was a noble who acted out of care for the people of the fief. When that Raymond was pleading with him with such a desperate expression, Dolph could do nothing but agree to his request.

Afterwards, Dolph’s heart was plunged into turmoil for a while as Raymond was imprisoned in punishment, but he was soon released.

And after that, it was the country that was thrown into an uproar. They had heard that there had been a battle near Apta, in the southwest, with Taúlia, and a large army brandishing spears had headed west by way of Nedain; but, just when they had been thinking that they were headed for war with Taúlia again, it turned out that these troops were going to face the impostor crown prince in Apta.

The quiet, rural town of Nedain was thrown into chaos.

Airships were sent in all directions from the town, even though it meant using what little ether they had. Raymond himself was run off his feet as he worked on intelligence gathering and plans for ensuring the people’s security.

And on top of all of that, Jairus gathered together three hundred militiamen and ordered them to man Nedain’s fortress.

Just how many of the good people of this domain do you really think would risk their lives to protect yours? He almost blurted out those words but just managed to swallow them.

It was during that time that the young man had been executed. Raymond had no time to halt it. When he had heard that the youth was Dolph’s brother, he had immediately leaped on a horse.

It was the same as when the village had been burned to the ground. By the time he had arrived at the quarry, Dolph had already rushed out. He followed him without a moment’s delay. He had only just managed to catch up with him when he was already halfway to Nedain.

This time however, Dolph would not listen to him. In his hand, he was clutching a pickaxe. He raged on that he would definitely, definitely bring it down on Jairus’ neck.

Raymond, who had jumped from his horse, was practically clinging to Dolph’s back. No matter how many times he was shaken off, Raymond did not give up. In the hand that was not grasping the pickaxe, Dolph was gripping a small box.

He did not know what was inside. But Raymond could guess. He had heard from the gossip among Dolph’s fellow workers that Dolph, who was by nature a lover of wine and women, had not gone drinking with them or gone to enjoy himself with prostitutes for several months. He had surely been saving his meagre wages in order to buy a wedding present for his little brother.

When Raymond realised that, he drew the sword that was at his waist.

“And now, are you going to kill me?” Dolph had screamed at him in tears. It was obvious from his attitude that he was prepared to resist to the bitter end, but Raymond instead grasped his hand and put the sword hilt in it. He whispered in the ear of the utterly dumbfounded Dolph –

“Kill Jairus with this sword.” Raymond had repeatedly been flung to the ground and his face was covered in sweat and dirt and tears. “But I won’t let go of its hilt either. We’ll do it together, Dolph.”

“L-Lord Raymond...”

“But not now. If we try to kill Jairus with just the two of us, we will only fail. There is no sense in that. We’ll gather enough people, wait for the right time, and we will definitely drive Jairus into a corner.”

At the moment when he said that, Raymond had neither a plan nor confidence in their chances of success. But those were not words that were simply meant to buy time either. At that time, Raymond very certainly made the decision to chase Jairus Abigoal out of Nedain.

And the current of the times was with them.

Needless to say, the faction led by the one who called himself Prince Gil and denounced the emperor’s actions had defeated the large army that had been dispatched from the capital. The lord of Birac, Fedom Aulin, immediately sent out appeals, having clearly switched to the crown prince’s side.

The effect of these was huge. With Raymond and Dolph at the centre, men who were dissatisfied with Jairus were assembled together.

“Lord Raymond, we’re glad that you often come here, but has it not been noticed?”

“It’s all right,” Dolph had entirely become the leader of the anti-Jairus group. Raymond felt no reserve about it either. The young nobleman smiled with irony, “I was under surveillance right after being released from confinement, but the others are completely reassured by now. At the time, Jairus’ son seemed to always be hunting in the nearby forest.”

“Oh? Hunting.”

“Even though to all appearances, they should not have the leisure to spare. Jairus has also been running around recently gathering soldiers. He seems to constantly be sending messengers to Solon.”

“Then...”

“Yes. An opportunity will definitely appear soon.” Raymond nodded firmly.

Excitement instantly ran through the men. So many eyes were shining brightly from the blackened faces that even Raymond felt dazzled for a moment.

Still, no matter how much energy they had piled up, they could not, of course, capture Nedain Fortress with just three hundred alone. When he saw a chance, Raymond would go to Birac where he intended to meet with the crown prince.

To ask him to dispatch troops.

At that time, the three hundred would riot within Nedain.

After he set a village alight for sheltering a single slave, and then hanged a young man for joking around when drunk, Jairus feared a revolt in his territory. Or to be more accurate, he feared that the emperor would hear of such a thing.

Since Zaat Quark’s rebellion during the Founding Festival, as well as the slaves of Kilro all rising at once, the emperor had become terrifyingly well-attuned to similar issues.

Jairus could not afford to ignore this. To prevent the fire from spreading, he would certainly use greater armed force than was necessary to beat down any men who might rise to action.

There were preparations in place for the men to escape to the stone quarry once the soldiers drew near. Jairus’ men would surely pursue after them.

Raymond would guide the crown prince there. After all, Jairus’ troops would look down on their opponents as being just rabble that was unused to using weapons, and so they would be helpless when faced with a surprise attack.

Separated from a great many of his men, Jairus would be as good as naked.

He could picture in his mind the scene of the crown prince entering Nedain in grand style. Beside him there would surely be his fiancée, Princess Vileena. Raymond Peacelow felt his chest grow warm. He had heard the rumour that, when he had been held captive, the one who had approached the lord of Nedain about his release was none other than the Garberan princess.

The Prince who honoured justice and the princess who had saved one such as himself. If these two people would also save Nedain, he felt that not only his and his companions’ future, but also the future of all of Mephius would be bright.

“But for that, we need to maintain the utmost caution. Don’t do anything hasty, Dolph.”

“Of course,” Dolph struck his fist against his rock-firm chest. “If it means being able to tie a rope around Jairus and Boyce’s necks with my own hands, I’d even sit in a fire and wait.”

Boyce Abigoal. Raymond recalled how they had passed one another by that evening.

When the village had been set alight, it was, of course, Jairus who had given the order, but it was actually his son Boyce who had carried out the action. He was a man who spent his time hunting from morning till night. He had aimed his gun at the people of the fief just as he would at deer or wild boars, and then raised his sword to slaughter women and children.

Raymond frequently went to the villages that surrounded Nedain. Just as those who mocked it said, the town was undeniably provincial. But because of that, the people all had simple, warm characters. And of course, those living in the village that had been set alight had all been well-known to him.

Unforgivable – Raymond’s sense of that towards Boyce might be even greater than that of those who had lost family members.

“What’s that?” Asked Dolph when he saw Raymond hang something from the bracket that was used to hold a pine torch to the stone wall.

A flower. An artificial flower that seemed to have been made by folding thin sheets of paper.

“A charm,” Raymond smiled faintly. “Louise folded it for everyone last night.”

“Lady Louise did?”

When they heard the name of Raymond’s younger sister, the men all crowded around the pale artificial flower.

She, just like Raymond, was very popular in the various villages. Her health was by no means robust, so she did not frequently visit the villages in person in the same way that her brother did, but her fair and unprejudiced personality was widely known among the villagers.

“Oh, it’s beautiful.”

“Idiot, don’t touch it! It’ll get broken if you touch it with your rough fingers.”

“What was that!”

The atmosphere grew boisterous.

Folding paper flowers was something like an old custom within the Peacelow family. Or rather, it was a kind of tradition that was still handed down in the northern region of Garbera that had once been their territory.

When a daughter from the Peacelow House turned fifteen years old, she received a present of high-quality paper from her mother. She was to use them to fold flowers for her friends and for the people who had taken care of her, only this time as a present from herself. And lastly, with the remaining paper, she would fold herself a bouquet once her marriage had been decided.

“Oi, Molt. Don’t stay in that corner and come see.”

“Ah, y-yeah.”

“Watch it, you’re always so clumsy, you might touch it and mess it up.”

The men were probably superimposing the image of the girl they would have seen no more than once or twice with the origami flower. Their vigour now was clearly different from the dazzle they had had until just moments ago, and Raymond smiled wryly at the scene.

The siblings’ parents had died when Raymond was young. Their father had been killed ten years ago, in the very first battle at the start of the war with Garbera. Since the Peacelow House had originally been a Garberan family, he was concerned that they would come under intense criticism and so he had taken the initiative of leading a troop and joining the battle.

Their mother’s health collapsed when she heard of their father’s death and she soon passed away. Raymond had been fifteen at the time. He succeeded as head of the household with no time to properly grieve for the loss of both his parents.

The year before last, when Louise had also reached the age of fifteen, Raymond had given her the gift of paper in their mother’s place.

The flower that was now decorating the stone wall was the first one she had folded. Since it was the first, in all honesty, it was not that good. In his memory, his mother’s paper flowers were much daintier and far more elaborate.

But still, this first flower that his little sister had painstakingly folded seemed to shine on its surroundings. It seemed to symbolise the present and future of the Peacelow House.

The perfect opportunity finally arose.

Jairus Abigoal would be leaving for the capital. He was probably going to plead directly for reinforcements, or perhaps a dispatch had already been decided and he was going there to organise the troops, including those for the garrison.

Boyce, who was in charge of defending Nedain in his father’s place until he returned, was spending his days hunting, just as he always did.

Right – Raymond made up his mind. He would head for Birac when the sun set.

Since Nedain’s garrison took it in turns to watch over the highway, he would avoid that route. There was a good chance that the River Zwimm, which ran between the two cities, would also have lookouts. He followed a detour south and galloped hard, it should take him three or four days.

His preparations for food and provisions were already complete. Raymond called together the pages and stewards of the Peacelow House.

“I will be away for a short while.”

He avoided talking about his destination, but almost everyone could sense something of the situation. They all nodded with serious expressions or while shedding tears. When Raymond, the current head of the family, had been imprisoned, they had all endured the humiliation and the anxiety. None of them opposed his decision.

His sister Louise, who never spoke much, did not say anything in particular now either, as she looked at him with her large, anxious-looking eyes. But when he was finally about to depart, Louise, who seeing him off, suddenly held out her hand to him.

“Brother,” in her palm, there was a white origami. It was so small that it seemed likely to be blown away in the evening breeze. Raymond took it and tucked it in at his breast.

“Have I gotten a bit better?” Louise smiled shyly.

Raymond smiled too and shook his head. “Not there yet. You need to polish your skills much, much more before your marriage is arranged.”

When he said that, his sister blushed for a variety of reasons.

Sunset. With the dark mountain ridges behind him, Raymond was hurtling along on horseback.

Finally.

History was moving.

The future was changing.

And in that future, the people’s lives would be bright and he would find a partner for Louise and send her towards a happy married life. Raymond Peacelow was setting off as the first step towards that.

Without noticing the shadow that watched intently from behind him as he galloped away from the highway.

Part 4

Raymond passed through the gates of Birac.

He had taken short breaks several times along the way to allow his horse to rest, still he had galloped almost all night. It was now early dawn of the fourth day since he had left Nedain.

Young though he was, he could not hide his exhaustion. But when he thought of his sister and companions whom he had left in Nedain, he felt that he could not possibly lie down to sleep.

Early in the morning, he proceeded towards Lord Aulin’s residence and informed the soldiers on guard at the gate of his identity. He was wondering how long he would be asked to wait but –

“I’ll see him at once,” the crown prince replied with an immediate meeting.

Two hours after arriving in Birac, Raymond was sitting directly across a table from Crown Prince Gil Mephius. Although the night had barely just given way to dawn, there was no trace of fatigue or sleepiness on the prince’s face.

This person...

He had known it of course, but he realised it anew seeing him directly –

... is young.

There was something frankly unbelievable in the fact that this crown prince, who at a glance looked like a young boy, had accomplished so many feats of arms in so little time.

However, sitting directly opposite him and facing him head on, it was also a fact that the other had a deeply impressive presence.

Immediately after they had exchanged greetings,

“So, you who is employed by the lord of Nedain, what business do you have with me, whose head is currently wanted throughout Mephius?” Gil Mephius asked. He drew his hand across his throat like a sword. “Spurred on by righteous indignation, have you come to ‘collect’ me all by yourself?”

“T-That is absurd...”

“Then speak.”

Having been caught up in the prince’s pace right from the start, Raymond talked about the current situation in Nedain and about Lord Jairus Abigoal’s evil deeds. Gil did not interrupt to say a single word. Finally, when they arrived at the main issue –

“I have brought you some food,” a voice came from the other side of the door.

“Come back later,” Gil started to say but then, for some reason, faltered partway. With a scowl, he altered his tone and his words –

“Please come in.”

The door opened and the figure of a girl with platinum hair appeared.

Ah – Raymond exclaimed unthinkingly. He then stood straight, in an attitude even more at respectful attention than he had when Gil Mephius had entered the room.

With Teresia, her head lady’s maid, behind her, Princess Vileena set the food from a tray onto the table. Watching the warm steam rising from it, Prince Gil asked with a sullen expression –

“Princess, why are you here?”

“I heard that even though you had not yet had breakfast, you had already begun to work, Your Highness. It is good to be enthusiastic, but pushing yourself too hard is harmful to the health. Now then, you too Sir Peacelow.”

The Princess spoke cheerfully but, since she already knew his guest’s name, it looked like she had come to warn him – don’t do things sneakily.

While Gil was sighing off to one side, the princess smiled and curtsied to Raymond.

“This is the first time I have the pleasure of seeing you.”

“Yes!” Raymond was still standing straight. “I have not forgotten for a moment that it was by your grace that I was saved at that time. However, I did not have the opportunity to express my gratitude to you before today. My impoliteness is...”

“But in what way?” The Princess personally added milk to the two men’s cups. “Now, please have some while it is warm.”

“I don’t think it’s really possible but, did you make it, Princess?”

“Not possible?” The Princess smiled and turned towards Gil. “What is not really possible, Your Highness?"

“N-Nothing.”

After a short breakfast, Raymond went into the main issue.

Incidentally, Princess Vileena had remained within the room. For a moment, Raymond had been worried about it, but Gil shook his head and urged him on, saying “don’t mind it.” He mostly looked resigned.

Raymond nodded and explained about the plan that was in motion in Nedain. When he gave the signal, a riot would immediately break out inside the town. Jairus would certainly use a large force to suppress it. They would lure those troops to the quarry, then with the prince’s help...

After hearing him out to the end, Gil drained the milk that was leftover in his cup and, in what looked like a gesture born from habit, waved the cup behind him to ask for a second serving. Since the one who stepped forward was the princess, for a second, his expression turned into a scowl again, but he meekly waited while she refilled it before saying –

“Interesting. If the plan works, we can take Nedain without any effort. Raymond, do you have experience with warfare?”

“I’m ashamed to say it, but no, none,” Raymond lowered his eyes. “Both my grandfather and my father were warriors born and bred, so I learned the basics, but there are not currently any soldiers serving the Peacelow House and I’m presently living at the mansion with my only family member. I was not favoured with any opportunity to achieve success on the battlefield.”

Who could say how much of the other’s circumstances Gil managed to grasp thanks to what he had just said. He once more drained his cup to about three-quarters empty.

“Well, Nedain Fortress might find itself in a strategic position soon,” he said offhandedly.

As for Raymond, he felt a little dizzy.

“However,” Gil’s expression and voice both changed, “I said it earlier, but I’m the one that Mephius’ Emperor has denounced as an impostor. Why did you decided to believe me?”

The way he asked the question was like he was probing the intentions of an enemy general. Raymond felt overawed but still just managed to force his voice out.

“Of course, it is because I believe that Your Highness honours justice and...”

“That has nothing to do with anything,” Gil said flatly and, for a second, Raymond averted his eyes.

“What’s the matter? Say it openly.”

“I-It may be presumptuous of me to say.” Raymond looked at the ‘crown prince’ before him with neither reverence nor dread, but only with his own resolve. “I did not believe in the prince, I believed in Her Highness, the princess, who saved me. Since she is by your side, most probably... no, certainly, there can be no mistake that you are the real crown prince.”

“Oh,” the prince and princess exchanged glances, then, “very well. Then I’ll also believe you, who believes the princess.”

A messenger had arrived from Raymond. He was a soldier from Birac Fortress who was disguised as a pedlar. Dolph’s hand shook when he received the letter from him.

It said that a military force would leave from Birac late that night. Two days from then, they would be waiting in watch by the highway, which was when they were to riot and lure Jairus’ soldiers away.

It was finally time to put their plan into action, in other words, it was time to snatch Nedain out of the hands of a foolish usurper; and for Dolph, it was time to accomplish the revenge that he been waiting for for so long.

At midnight of the next day, all of the companions gathered at the quarry. After finishing their final preparations there, they would disperse throughout Nedain in units of fifty men. They would cause disturbances, and set fire to empty houses and to stores belonging to merchants who acted as purveyors to the Abigoal House. Once the troops were sent out, they would once again assemble at the quarry. That was the planned sequence of events.

Dolph treated everyone to the wine that he had been keeping back for the occasion.

“Finally,” everyone said and clapped Dolph on the shoulder.

He drank while nodding back. He had always had a strong head for alcohol, but that night in particular, it did not get him drunk.

Weapons that they had scraped together from all over were leaning in a row within the man-made cave. There were only a few spears and swords, with the rest being pickaxes or hoes at best. Even so, in Dolph’s eyes, they represented unsurpassed strength and the symbol of victory.

There was also a single artificial flower decorating the wall. If his little brother’s wedding had been held as planned, the bride would surely have worn similar flowers in her hair.

With his wine in one hand, Dolph wept.

At around the same time, a man who was entirely concealed beneath his hooded cloak swaggered into sight at the entrance of a path that led straight to the quarry. The figures of other men in similar attire followed behind him.

The men on lookout, just as they had when they stopped Raymond, pretended to be drunk and went up to them.

“Yo, newcomers? Brought any booze with you?”

It had been arranged that about thirty men who endorsed their goals would be joining them that evening. That was an achievement which had been accomplished by Molt, a man who had participated in the plan from the first. He was originally a farmer and was not a man who usually stood out, so everyone had been astonished and had praised him tremendously for his feat on the previous evening.

That group, led by Molt, had arrived.

“We’ll drink a toast in Solon –”

Upon hearing the password, the man on watch felt reassured and started to turn back to go and inform his comrades in the quarry.

And in that second, a sword was drawn from beneath the cloak.

“– but did you think you’d be sharing it?”

The man who had been on watch fell without a sound. The blood-spattered cloak was flung aside.

“Go!”

The man in the lead yelled, brandishing his sword, and the soldiers flooded into the quarry, their rough voices reverberating.

Soon there was the uninterrupted sound of gunshots.

Screams that would have pinned a normal man to the spot if he had heard them welled up one after another. Caught in a surprise attack, ordinary people were no possible match against that troop from Nedain’s defence forces under Boyce Abigoal’s command.

The artificial cave was quickly filled with the corpses of those who had taken a bullet or a blow to the head from an axe or a sword.

“F-Fuckers.”

Wielding a sword, Dolph put up a desperate resistance, but a soldier’s sword sent both his weapon and his wrist flying through the air.

“Guah!” With a cry of pain that sounded like that of a crushed frog, Dolph crouched to the ground in pain. The blood spraying from his severed wrist stained the flower on the wall a dark red, and the secret massacre continued.

“Shouldn’t it soon be starting?”

Boyce Abigoal muttered as he looked up at the night sky filled with twinkling stars. He had not gone to the quarry. What currently lay in front of his eyes was the Peacelow mansion.

“Raymond is a fool,” Boyce’s clean-cut features wore a vicious smile.

For a while after he had been released, they had deliberately had soldiers keep him under conspicuous surveillance. But as soon as those soldiers had been removed, Raymond became completely careless. Immediately after Dolph’s brother was executed, they had once again reinforced their watch on Raymond to see if he was not getting any strange ideas again.

And Raymond had hatched a plan, just as they had thought – or rather, one that went far beyond what they had expected.

But this is a good chance.

Boyce had persuaded his father to make use of Raymond’s plot and to make preparations to ambush the soldiers who would be sent from Birac. Jairus going to Solon was certainly to formally request reinforcements, but it also served the purpose of giving Raymond free rein.

If I can defeat the impostor crown prince before reinforcements arrive from Solon, His Majesty’s evaluation of the Abigoal House would all at once rise exponentially. He thought about how he might even receive an exceptional promotion and be made one of the twelve generals in place of Folker or Yuriah who had failed to subjugate the impostor.

That ambition dyed his heart completely black.

He was a man who had not one ounce of compassion towards those commoners. That was something he had inherited from his father. His heart did not feel so much as a twinge of pain at knowing that they were deliberately staging a rebellion and, furthermore, that their plan involved slaughtering his father and him.

Quite the opposite, he had won over the man called Molt in order to perfect the plan. Because his mother was ill, Molt urgently needed money. Boyce had paid from his own pocket to call in a doctor from Solon and had made the farmer into his spy.

By now, the quarry would have become a one-sided hunting ground. The hunt-loving Boyce did feel like wanting to go there, but he had something else to do.

Right.

“Let’s go,” he called out to the line of fully-armed soldiers then forcibly intruded into the Peacelow house.

By that time, a minor ruckus had broken out inside the mansion.

However, it was not because they had been able to predict the surprise attack. Rather, just in case the worse happened, Raymond had taken in about a dozen young children belonging to those who were involved in the rebellion. The children of course knew nothing about the situation. They had simply been told that it was because their fathers had to work overnight.

At first, they had been as quiet as lambs, but the children were between five and ten-years-old, and were at the ages when they most wanted to play. Even though all of them seemed to fall asleep as Louise read to them by their bedside, they were all over-excited by the change of environment and by seeing such a large mansion for the first time. Waking up again at midnight, they immediately started playing tag and hide-and-seek.

And into that –

“Where’s Raymond?” Boyce had violently come trampling into the mansion.

And of course, because men in helmets and armour had appeared, the children had run screaming.

“W-What do you want? At this hour...” A long-serving steward to the Peacelow House went to intercept them but Boyce treated him like nothing but a pain and swept him aside with a swing of his brawny arm.

“Search for Raymond! I’ll see that rebel hanged.” Shouting angrily, he smashed his way into one room after another, knocking over tables and slicing at pillars.

Boyce was, of course, well-aware that Raymond was not there.

He went up to the second floor and kicked open a door. The children had been lying hidden. Like kindling set alight, they all started crying at once.

“Lord Boyce, this is – outrageous.” Louise rushed over, her face pale.

Boyce’s eyes gleamed ferociously as turned towards her. He had had his sights on her for a long time. And especially when they had passed by each other near the Abigoal mansion recently: he could not forget how her limbs had seemed to give off heat as she had slipped quickly past him.

Already at the time, he had expected that this would happen. The ache of lust swelled until it was unbearable.

“Where is your brother, Raymond? Why isn’t he at home?”

Boyce heard her gulp. Louise’s large eyes darted around restlessly.

“M-My brother has gone to one of the neighbouring villages. There was an emergency and...”

“Hmph, don’t pretend ignorance. Did you think I didn’t know? What do you think is happening right now to the fools who gathered at the quarry?”

Louise looked startled, then her entire body started to tremble.

“You... Y-You... You can’t have...”

“Judging by your reaction, it looks like you also knew about the plan to rebel. Come! I’ll examine you in person.”

Seizing her slender arms that looked as though they might break from it, Boyce dragged Louise to an empty room.