Volume 8, Chapter 3: Embers of War

This chapter is updated by wuxiaworld.eu

Part 1

“Please wait,” changing his tone, one of them stepped towards Shique. Judging from his weapons, he was undoubtedly a Taúlian soldier. “Where are you going, Sir Shique? Your unit should not have received any orders this evening, I believe.”

There were seven or eight of them. Each of them set alight the torches in their hands at the same time. As his figure was brought to light by the fire, Shique desperately repressed his inner turmoil.

Judging by the fact that they had deliberately extinguished the fires and concealed themselves, they could not have followed him from Taúlia. The ambush had been set from the start. In other words, Orba’s surroundings must have been kept under vigilant surveillance for some time already.

Having been caught here, if the secret message tucked at his breast was found, the situation would veer off in the worst possible direction. It would probably not end well for Orba either. Shique deliberately plastered a smile on his face.

“Hello, thank you for your hard work. But isn’t this a bit overboard? I’m an ally, even if I am a Mephian.”

“I would like you to prove that. Could you come over here?”

Those who were surrounding Shique were subordinates of Natokk, the commander of the Sixth Army Corps. The one who had ordered them to keep watch on Orba was the lord of Taúlia, Ax Bazgan himself.

Because Orba had been quick to leave Eimen, Ax had become suspicious about his identity. It wasn’t that he particularly sensed signs of betrayal from him. But it was certain that Orba was no longer a disposable mercenary.

So Ax had instructed his men to follow Orba, ordering them to keep him under surveillance and to monitor his movements. His choice of who to put on the job was nothing more than coincidence, but when Natokk had received the order, a thought had struck to him...

Just at the same time, a certain rumour had been circulating among Natokk’s men. It concerned Orba, the hero who had defeated Garda.

Previously, Natokk’s unit had been the at the vanguard of the attack on Apta. While a detached force moved to the enemy’s rear, they had been tasked with drawing the enemy’s attention but, instead of catching Mephius in a trap, they had been the ones to fall into an ambush.

The one leading the unit which had performed that ambush was a swordsman in an iron mask.

He himself had not given his name as “Orba”. Once they had made peace with Mephius however, information from neighbouring countries far and wide had all at once become available. Of course, this included the many heroic activities accomplished in just under half a year by Gil Mephius, who had overcome Ax’s forces and who on top of that had made a peace settlement, and among that information were anecdotes about one of his subordinates, a mysterious masked swordsman. He had defeated Garbera’s great general Ryucown then had magnificently won the gladiatorial competition held in Mephius’ capital, Solon.

It seemed that his name was Orba.

The rumour had spread among Natokk’s subordinates. Natokk himself had heard it very shortly after Garda’s defeat. A masked swordsman of the same name. Natokk had only caught a glimpse of either of them, but their build looked the same.

Is it a coincidence or…

Just as he had been seized by a sudden suspicion, he had received orders from Ax to monitor Orba. Consequently, Natokk has tightened the watch on him more thoroughly than anyone else would have done if they had received those instructions.

Shique had been caught in that surveillance net.

“It’s exactly as though I was the enemy,” he put on a sulky expression even as he was conscious of being in a cold sweat. “The ones who defeated Garda was our unit. You can’t possibly be thinking that I’m a spy sent by Garda or by Mephius, can you?”

“I am requesting proof of that. If you can prove your innocence, as an apology for our rudeness, it will be our treat. It’s already so late. We could be relaxing and exchanging toasts.”

“So what? I shouldn’t have bothered coming to a country like this. Maybe I should tell Orba to hurry up and move the unit out?”

Shique’s eyes darted about while he pretended to turn back.

Should I go back for now? He wondered but judging from the state of the soldiers, he would not be able to avoid an investigation if he turned on his heels now.

In that case —

“Sh*t, this is stupid. I’ve had it with being a Taúlian mercenary. I’m going back to Mephius. Give my regards to the masked gentleman. Next time we meet, we’ll be on different sides. I accept that our bond was just that weak. But you can tell him that I won’t forgive him either.”

He had no choice but to drive his horse forward as soon as he saw a chance.

Afterwards, Orba would be able to treat him as a “deserter”. If the net stretched further, Orba would of course also be investigated but as long as the secret message didn’t come to light, as the hero who had saved the west, he should be able to pull through.

The net around Shique grew even narrower. The one in the lead raised the gun he held. Even if he spurred on his horse, his odds for success were fifty-fifty. Just as he was about to give a sharp kick to his horse’s flank —

“Uwah!”

“Ow, w-what the…”

The ring of soldiers was momentarily thrown into confusion. From the distance, stones had been thrown at them.

“Ahoy there, you Zerdian soldiers! You picking a fight with a member of our unit?”

The disconcerted soldiers shone the light towards the voice and a huge shadow suddenly came into view.

“Gilliam!”

Exactly as Shique’s shout indicated, the figure that had appeared was that of the giant mercenary Gilliam. He shook his mane-like hair and beard while giving a threatening smile.

“What’re you planning on doing if Mephius attacks again while you’re having your internal quarrel? If he wants to go, let him go. A soldier who runs away at the last moment is useless from the start.”

“Please wait, Sir Gilliam. We haven’t – Yeow!”

The stone Gilliam threw hit the protesting soldier right on the nose. The Mephian was acting as flippant as though he were drunk.

“Oi, Shique. We’ve known each other for a long time but this is goodbye. Wherever it is you’re going, get out of here fast. But mark my words, if we meet on the battlefield, I won’t let you off. I’ve been thinking for a while now that you’re obnoxious so if I see you, I’ll go straight for your head.”

“That’s exactly what I was hoping for,” Shique laughed cheerfully.

“Wait. Bastards, doing what you please…”

Several of the soldiers turned on Gilliam. Even though he was hurling stones at them, they closed in on him them and tried to subdue him. Gilliam however easily took on the charging soldiers and knocked them down.

Now.

Seizing his chance the moment their attention was distracted, Shique gave a sharp kick to his horse’s flank. With a neigh, the horse started sprinting forward.

“W-Wait!”

The Taúlian soldiers tried to hurriedly grab the horse’s neck or Shique’s feet, but their hands missed. Carried on his horse, Shique was about to disappear into the darkness beyond their lights.

“Sh*t!”

The soldiers had received strict orders from Natokk. One of them raised the gun he had been pulling out. He was going to aim for the horse, but its shape had already been almost entirely swallowed up by the shadows. Although his aim wasn’t fixed, he still pulled the trigger.

A gunshot.

Along with it, the shadow on horseback seemed to jerk violently; but maybe he had merely been grazed, or maybe he just been surprised by the sound of the shot, as he immediately righted his posture and disappeared from sight.

Left behind, Gilliam laughed cheerfully. The soldiers soon all crowded around him but even though he could no longer move, he still laughed.

Hmph. Inwardly, the one he was jeering at was himself. Achieving all these feats and thinking our treatment would change from when we were gladiators.

Gilliam hadn’t leapt into action because he had understood everything that Orba and Shique were aiming for. It was simply that he couldn’t stand how Shique, after it having been just him and Orba in the medical office, had sneakily moved around alone. Actually, the one he found “obnoxious” was that boy whose thoughts were impossible to understand.

But —

That guy always makes his moves to win.

He certainly recognised that. And so, he thought that if necessary, he might just lend his strength for the sake of that. He thought that if he wielded his axe near where that boy was, he might see something beyond what he had known until now.

At any rate, the crown prince of Mephius and the hero of the west. There aren’t two such interesting guys in this world.

In the past, Gilliam had once been a soldier who had sided with a certain faction. Having lost that fight, he had fallen into slavery and had swung swords and axes as a gladiator. Currently, he was in the middle of gaining renown as a mercenary.

But what could the position of mercenary lead to? If his was going to be a life of brandishing steel without using his brain, he should at least choose the more interesting option.

Gilliam continued pretending to be drunk and spat at the soldier who was trying to tie him up. When the soldier flinched, he laughed out loud. Even when he caught a hard blow to the stomach, he didn’t feel a thing.

Without wasting any time, Natokk’s subordinates went to the barracks of the Fifth Army Corps where Orba was. When they kicked down the door, he was sitting up in bed.

He wore his mask.

But he had not armed himself with a sword or a gun. What he had in his hands was a book.

“What business do you have with me in the middle of the night?” Orba asked. It was impossible to tell what his expression was but through the mask his eyes glittered sharply.

For a moment, the brawny Zerdian soldiers held their breath. Although he had no weapon nearby, they had the chilling feeling that any moment now he would grab them with his bare hands.

At that moment, Orba’s anger was certainly boundless. It had been that way since he had heard the gunshot, but it was not aimed at them.

One of the soldiers came back to his senses.

“I am very sorry but I would ask you to come with us. If there are any personal belongings you need to take, please prepare them at once.”

The soldiers were armed with bayonets but they did not point them towards him.

“There’s nothing,” Orba shrugged. “I don’t need anything. I’ll follow you. Oh, but…”

“But?”

His eyes glinted dangerously in the dark and for a moment, the soldiers once more held their breath. But what Orba said was —

“Don’t touch my mask. It was a present from Princess Esmena. No one is to lay a single finger on it.”

Part 2

North of Helio, at a distance that could be covered in about two and half days by a galloping horse, there was a comparatively large village. It was prosperous mainly from trade with the nomads. It was said that since the western Lake Kurán had been deemed holy, the ancestors of the inhabitants had cleared space for the village with the intention of protecting that sacred ground.

The meeting between Ax and the elders from the main clans would be held at a location a dozen or so kilometres east of the village.

The village itself had suddenly become animated thanks to Ax and the great crowd of people which had spontaneously amassed around him.

Everywhere he passed through on the way there, Ax had been welcomed. Whenever he approached a town or a village, droves of people crowded on either side of the highway to catch a glimpse of him. His name was called out repeatedly. The eyes turned towards him were the eyes of those gazing at a matchless king.

Atop his horse, Ax was at the summit of his triumph. He deeply felt that the power of the Bazgan House had finally been restored, and by none other than himself at that.

I need to give thanks to Garda – He even thought fleetingly.

Because that sorcerer had run rampant, becoming a common ‘enemy’ for the west, it had become fertile ground for a hero such as himself to step forward and demonstrate his might.

Even in myths and legends, vicious ‘enemies’ only exist to make the hero work hard and look good after all. Hmm, this might become the founding tale of the rebirth of Zer Tauran.

Ax Bazgan happily indulged in childish fantasies.

In this village too a welcome banquet was going be held forthwith. All the notable villagers came up to greet him one after another.

Moreover, it appeared that a number of youths from this village had joined the punitive force against Garda. Ax personally praised the achievements of one who had survived and become a minor hero in the village. The youth’s cheeks flushed and his feverishly ardent eyes became blurred.

If, right then and there, Ax had ordered “Die for me”, he might well have slit his own throat with his sword. It was no wonder that, in a way, Ravan Dol was warier of Ax’s fame than of the enemy, but Ax himself saw the youth’s ecstasy as heart-warming.

In the house of the village chief, a dance that was a specialty of Tauran was struck up. Although, as this was a rural part of Tauran, neither the appearance nor the gyrations of the dancing girls were particularly refined.

I miss Jaina’s dancing.

While outwardly displaying satisfaction, Ax inwardly thought about his wife, who was a former dancer.

The melody from the flutes changed and the dancing girls were replaced by another group. Most of them did nothing to overturn Ax’s impression, but there was one beauty who caught his eye.

Oh, that’s rare for the countryside.

Her bearing was light and, from her fluttering hair to the tip of her toes, her movements were charming.

As Ax was greatly pleased with her, after the group dance was over, he had the beauty stay back and dance before him.

He continued to drink. Unusually for him, he became drunk.

Not surprising.

Even though Ax had confidence in his resistance to alcohol and in his stamina, he had left Taúlia to defeat Garda and after that there had been a succession of meetings in Eimen. Then, with no time to rest, he had extended his trip all the way to here. It felt good to know that from here on he would be praised as the west’s greatest hero, but on the other hand, having every single one of his actions attract attention was a little wearing on the nerves.

The alcohol and the beauty’s dance seemed to seep into his body.

The night grew late and Ax invited the beauty to the room that would serve as his lodgings.

Ax was full of vigour, yet after having made Jaina his wife, there had been no rumours of his having any love affairs. Nor had he taken a concubine.

While feeling surprised at himself, he asked –

“You. Your name is?”

She paused for a moment as she poured alcohol.

“I am called Tahī.”

Her eyes shining a brilliant dark black by the light of the lamp, the beauty gave her name.

Ax made Tahī dance once again.

As he watched while she danced alone, wearing the dim, dusky light like a garment; Ax felt as though he were slipping through the boundary of dreams.

Through a seamlessly natural flow, they were in bed together.

Even then, Ax was in a dreamlike trance. Tahī’s ardent skin, soft lips, and supple limbs became the chains that robbed Ax’s mind and body of freedom. It was a strangely comfortable feeling. From somewhere other than his own nature, he seemed to be overflowing with a desire to leave his everything to another person and to simply fall asleep.

And so, when Tahī straddled his chest as though riding a horse, with a dagger gleaming in her hand, it was as though he were watching an act from a stage play and he was unable to grasp that his life was in danger.

Tahī’s somewhat thick lips parted in a smile and she swept the blade towards Ax’s breast in a rush of wind.

At that instant, a rough noise rose from outside the lodgings.

A sound like the reverberation of a thousand army boots or like lightning had just fallen nearby could be heard. It was the repeated roaring of dragons.

The invisible chain was torn away from Ax’s body and mind.

“You fucking…!”

He stretched out his hand for a sword but there wasn’t even the pillow which should have been there.

To be tricked by a woman’s wiles.

While Ax burned with regret, Tahī clicked her tongue. However, she immediately put her blade into a rough fighting stance and thrust it forward. Ax dodged twice but his body was sluggish. Even his brain felt dull, as though some foreign substance had gotten inside it.

“Anyone. Someone, get in here.”

He had meant to shout but only a voice as hoarse as an old man’s leaked out.

When Tahī leapt a third time, Ax tripped over his own feet and fell.

For the man who was praised everywhere as the ruler of the west to have his life cut short after having fallen into the clutches of a woman he had invited to his bedroom…

As Ax was thinking that, and just as the blade was about to plunge straight into his heart, a dragon was heard howling again.

“Why are there dragons here!”

It wasn’t Tahī who yelled but the soldiers outside the lodgings.

“Drive them away!”

“Bastard, what are you doing here – Uwah!”

Immediately after, the bedroom door opened and what appeared was neither brawny soldiers nor a new assassin beckoned by Tahī but, at a glance, a very ordinary, slightly-built middle-aged man.

As Ax, Tahī, and the soldiers who were racing in behind stared in surprise and confusion, the middle-aged man nodded to himself in satisfaction.

“It’s a case of being called by the lingering scent of Garda. As expected.”

“You are the one who hindered me?” Tahī spat out bitterly. Her expression warped into one of hatred and she looked like a completely different person from the one who had danced in front of Ax.

“Not me. My cute children.” He wore the same smile as when he performed magic tricks for the youngsters. Ax wasn’t familiar with him, but this man was the merchant who walked along with dragons. “The voices of those children disturb ether. Come and let yourself be tied up quietly. You will not be moving freely anymore.”

“You're taking me, Tahī, too lightly.”

So saying, Tahī kicked at the floor. With one bound, she was right before the merchant. The roar of dragons sounded three times. They had apparently been left in the garden.

Tahī’s body shook and lurched over.

As if by magic, the merchant produced a long rope from his breast and casually threw it. One of the tricks he showed off in public was to use a lasso to catch the neck of a dragon which was far away; but this time, it twined unerringly around Tahī’s neck and, coiling repeatedly around her sensual limbs, it prevented her from moving.

It was a skilful ability. However –

“Ngh!”

As soon as Tahī made a sound, the ropes were cut apart in mid-air then that supple body leapt higher and higher. Landing behind the merchant, she then slipped past the side of the dumbfounded soldiers and vanished from sight.

“Oh,” turning around towards the direction she had darted off in, the merchant spoke without either a smile nor a sigh. “That’s a surprise. If she had been a normal sorcerer, she would not have been able to use a single magic trick after the ether had been disturbed. It might be that this isn’t unrelated to us.”

Having finally snapped back to themselves, the soldiers surrounded the merchant on either side.

“B-Bastard!”

“Don’t move!”

“Wait,” Ax held them back with a wave of his hand.

Normally he would be roaring angrily at the soldiers for so easily allowing a suspicious person to come near him; but in this case, he himself had invited a viper to his bedroom. His head was still dull and he pressed a hand against it.

“Did you say Garda? That woman, who is she? And you?”

“You really should be careful, Sir Ax Bazgan.” As though ignoring Ax’s question, the merchant bobbed his head, still wrapped in the turban with feathers stuck in it. That too was a gesture that resembled those of a conjurer before a spectator.

“It would seem that the sorcerers can’t ignore you either. Although we cannot carelessly interfere in the west. If we were to lose Sir Ax now, it would be a hard blow for us. Although that is only now, at this moment, and I cannot promise that it will still be the same in a year’s time, or even tomorrow.”

“Sorcerers, is it. Then that woman really is a survivor from Garda’s subordinates.”

“That is half right and half wrong. Since Garda has not been destroyed.”

“What!”

“Oops, and I was given such strict orders not to give too much unnecessary information. People have their path to follow and evil spirits have theirs. It is said that having the two domains penetrate too far into one another throws even the golden mean of fate into disarray. With that, I’ll be taking my leave Sir Ax. Ruler of the west.”

“Wait!”

This time Ax was about to give orders to the soldiers to seize the man. But there was something strange about the hand he lifted. It felt as though the governor-general of Taúlia had once again fallen into a magic snare.

“You need only remember this,” the merchant’s voice was already fading away yet it was still accompanied by a booming reverberation. “You asked me who I am, but my own name has no significance. However, I come from the Barbaroi village. For now, remember only this.”

Ax abruptly looked around, but there were only the soldiers, who looked as though they too had only just come back to themselves, and the merchant’s figure had disappeared.

He mobilised a great many soldiers and had them search the surrounding area; but the middle-aged man, the three unusual dragons that he had with him, and, of course, the dancer who called herself Tahī, were not to be found.

Soon, the sun began to rise. Ax was bathed in the light that was shining brilliantly over the mountain ridge and, as the shadows were driven away, he began to wonder if that night’s happenings hadn’t all been illusions.

However –

Garda and… Barbaroi.

Ax tightly grasped the war fan that he carried closely on him. At this point, Garda’s name needed no explanation. As for Barbaroi, it was the name of a village said to be located around the sacred ground of Kurán. According to legend, the Ryuujin, the original inhabitants of the planet who had once been displaced by mankind, still lived in that land.

He was suddenly seized with the thought that there might be an as yet unknown link between the rampage of the sorcerer who called himself Garda and Mephius’ sudden invasion.

“Hmph,” Ax gave a loud snort. “Whatever plots may lie beneath the surface of this world, they are all simply preparations to allow me, Ax, to govern the whole of the western lands. Just as Garda himself was. I cannot die until the power of the Bazgan House shines upon the entirety of this western wilderness. That is the only thing which is certain. That is the only thing I need pray for.”

The next thing Ax thought was –

It’s a good thing Ravan isn’t here.

There could be no greater disgrace than to be killed by a woman he had called over himself. Being scolded directly was fine but with Ravan, he would definitely be in for relentless and unending sarcasm.

At the same time, when he thought that if Ravan had been here – I wouldn’t have gotten into that situation in the first place – Ax felt uncomfortable for a reason other than having had his life targeted.

Part 3

Coming home from picking wild plants, Rone saw a throng of people around his house and smiled wryly. Holding that feeling back however, he shouted loudly –

“Hey!”

The crowd scattered at once, its members running off in different directions. Most of them were teenage boys.

“It’s the Mephian kidnapper,” one of them shouted jeeringly.

Thereupon, another took up, “He’s kidnapped someone from the mountains again.”

“Next time, find a good bride for our brother, ‘kay!”

The tanned youths were making a racket partly to hide their embarrassment. It wasn’t surprising. The border village was relatively large but even so the population didn’t reach a thousand. Around it, only the mountains and the wilderness stretched out and the boys were starved for excitement.

But Rone liked it. It had not yet been three months since they had arrived in this village which lay west of the River Yunos. In other words, even though they were Mephian, the Tauran villagers had warmly welcomed them. At first, his wife had missed life in the city but now she had made friends with women of her age and her figure as she tilled the fields had gradually become a familiar sight.

“The beans I planted are finally hard enough to crush,” she had said not long ago, proudly showing them off to Rone.

He was both surprised and moved that his wife, who was use to a prosperous lifestyle, was so resolute. Although life wasn’t easy, it was secure.

What’s left…

Rone’s remaining worry was about his daughter. Because there had been a complete upheaval of their environment half a year ago, Rone thought of things from their life before as distant; but for his daughter, that one nightmarish day still felt like it was yesterday. She wasn’t able to adapt as flexibly as his wife had.

On this occasion, Rone had encountered a strange continuity.

It was the incident that had the children hooting “kidnapper”. About half a month earlier, as he was on his way back from his daily task of gathering wild plants, he had suddenly noticed a path to the side that he hadn’t taken before. He had been starting to become familiar with the surroundings. Curiosity overcame him and he turned his feet in that direction.

The harvest was poor. He found neither edible plants nor any kind of substitute for them. Just as Rone was about to turn back home, he had spotted the figure of person who had collapsed looking as though they were leaning against a tree.

The man was covered in wounds all over. There seemed to have been some kind of medical care performed but the skin showing through the crude bandaging was burned and darkish with solidified blood stuck to his entire face. His clothes were in shreds.

He had wondered if maybe he had been caught stealing in a town somewhere and, having been chased out, had been reduced to becoming a tramp.

The man was still breathing. Rone had hesitated for a moment but, as someone who had been chased away from the place where they had been born and raised, he resembled him in a way. Lifting the man onto his shoulders, he had returned to the village.

They had shared their meagre provisions, called the elderly man who was the only one in the village to have any medical knowledge, and had treated his wounds. Although in effect, that had only meant applying medicine made from squeezing herbs and replacing his bandages with new ones.

But although the man had returned to his senses, he must have had a terrifying experience; he remained lying all day long and, even now, barely spoke. He appeared to have nightmares every night. In these past few days, however, he seemed to have regained some presence of mind; his wariness had considerably decreased towards Rone and his family, and he mumbled words of gratitude when they brought him his food.

Whatever the case, Rone had been relieved when that happened.

“This is…” Rone had muttered unconsciously just yesterday morning as his feet came to a stop along the mountain path.

Less than a kilometre from where the man had been, he came across another person who had collapsed.

This time, it was a woman. Moreover, a girl still only fourteen or fifteen years old. Her condition wasn’t as awful as the man’s had been but she was bleeding from the head and her skin had turned ashen.

There were two more points that were strange. The girl was wearing what was evidently a flight suit for riding an airship, and also, she was probably neither Zerdian nor Mephian.

Rone thought it suspicious, but he couldn’t ignore the situation this time either, so in the end he had brought the girl back to the village.

“You’re a man who is good at picking people up,” the village chief had said, half in amazement, half in exasperation.

As a matter of course, the girl became the talk of the village. As with the man, Rone’s guess was that she had fallen into vagrancy or slavery; but whatever the case, she was a young girl. All sorts of rumours sprang up. There were stories that she was a woman from another country who had fled because some foreign king was going to force her to become his mistress, or that she was a princess from a coastal country who had been carried here by the current after the ship she was travelling on was shipwrecked.

The beautiful girl who had collapsed in the mountains had especially stirred up the interest of the youths and they were often found surrounding Rone’s home, in the hopes of being able to peer inside the house.

While he was sending them away, the doctor had once again provided his care.

“There is nothing to worry about,” the doctor had nodded when he had left the girl who was sleeping in bed. “The head injury is nothing too serious. She has been weakened after using up a lot of her strength but she should recover considerably with two or three days rest and proper meals.”

“I see.”

“Still…”

“Still?”

Nothing, the old man shook his head and left the house. Rone could easily guess what was on the doctor’s mind. The man was one thing but with the girl... there were too many mysteries. The doctor was probably worried about inviting trouble to the village.

It was situated not far from the border with Mephius and they had just heard that there had been an armed skirmish.

That was another reason why the youths seemed more impetuous than usual.

The situation is on the verge of military action again.

Amidst all this Rone uneasily wondered, even though she was just one girl, if her enigmatic presence was a good thing for the village.

He entered the house just as his daughter was coming out of the guest room in which the girl had been laid.

“And that child?”

“She has woken up. I’m just preparing breakfast with mother, so wait a bit, Father.”

Oh – Rone’s eyes opened a little wide as his daughter seemed to have changed slightly. When he had brought the man in, she had not dropped her fear and wariness but, no doubt feeling pity for a girl younger than her, she was starting to be actively involved in looking after her.

“Say,” she spoke while tying on her apron, “don’t ask that girl too many questions. She looked like she didn’t want to talk about herself.”

“Yeah.”

“A bit like us…”

Cutting off her words, his daughter started preparing the meal. Rone understood what she wanted to say.

They were holding secrets.

Rone Jayce.

Half a year earlier, he had been a regular soldier in the imperial capital, Solon. Moreover, he had been part of Emperor Guhl Mephius’ Imperial Guards.

His daughter’s name was Layla. Thanks to the influence of her father the imperial guard, she had grown up without lacking for anything; at around the time she was to turn eighteen, she had married a man of the same age and from a similar military background.

Layla’s happiness should have been at its peak, but was suddenly taken from her; and the one who caused her downfall, as well as the rest of Rone’s family, was Gil Mephius, the very son of the emperor whom Rone had sworn to protect.

Gil proclaimed his “Right to the first night”, something which the imperial family had never once exercised, and had forcibly pressed Layla to sleep with him. Not only that, but the one made to stand guard at the cheap inn he brought her to was her own father, Rone.

For Rone, it was like something from a nightmare.

He had broken through the door to hold back Prince Gil and stop that barbarity. Of course, he knew that doing so would cause his own ruin. What came next still clung to his eardrums –

A gunshot

As the sound of that shot echoed in his mind, Rone shivered. They had become entangled, Rone had ended up pulling the trigger and Gil – the successor to the throne of the Imperial Dynasty of Mephius – had sunk to the filthy wooden floor, a silent corpse in a pool of blood.

Hugging his sobbing daughter, Rone had resigned himself to death. He believed that as long as he could protect his family, it didn’t matter if he was torn limb from limb, or made to fight a hundred gladiators, or eaten alive by dragons.

Besides, the first to come rushing to the scene had been a leading noble called Fedom Aulin. There was no longer any hope of escaping.

But then, the situation had veered off in a strange direction.

“The prince is still breathing. What happened here is a disgrace for the imperial family of Mephius. Do not speak of it to anyone. Instead, if you leave everything to me, your family will not have to worry about a thing.” Fedom had said.

His words were irrational and coercive, but things had turned out as he had said; no pursuers were sent from the castle after Rone’s family, nor had the death of Crown Prince Gil been publicly announced. Not only that but, very shortly afterwards, Gil Mephius, who should have been dead, had gone to Seirin Valley to hold the wedding ceremony with a princess from the neighbouring country of Garbera.

Rone and his family has left the capital before the stories of Gil’s heroic accomplishments had spread throughout Solon. They had feared for their safety. It did not take any deep thought to realise that it reeked of a national conspiracy.

They also had the intention of escaping any investigation since many of the guests invited to the wedding knew that Gil had invoked the right to the first night. A short while before that, the family of Layla’s marriage partner had indirectly suggested that the engagement be annulled.

They had wandered from place to place in Mephius and had once been on the verge of settling in a village not far from Apta.

However, he heard a rumour that Gil Mephius would arrive as lord protector of Apta. He did not want that name to reach his daughter’s ears. Furthermore, he had received a letter from a man that he had known well in a village where they had previously stayed for about a month. It stated that a man, who claimed to be one of his acquaintances from Solon, had come by to visit him, however Rone did not know him.

Was he sent by Fedom?

Rone had shuddered, turning pale. To be looking for him after so much time, he wondered whether he wasn’t trying to kill him in order to seal his lips.

Rone had immediately gathered up their belongings and had set off with his wife and child. They had crossed the border by taking a mountain path at the north of the Belgana Summits. For ten days they travelled south. It was a journey to a new land.

His wife and child had been beginning to show fatigue when, by chance, they had arrived at this village. Naturally, it was a Zerdian settlement but, at the time, the mood towards Mephians had been friendly. This was because none other than Gil Mephius had effected a reconciliation with Taúlia. Rone had mixed feelings about it but, at any rate, the villagers had received the foreign travellers without being guarded.

A few days into their stay, upon learning that Rone and his family had no particular destination, the village chief had offered them a house and field.

From the time they had left Solon, his daughter, Layla, had been in the depths of despair; she had been brooding so much that her father worried if they took their eyes off her, she might end her own life. However, having been driven to end their travels at life in this village, little by little she had started to show signs of recovery.

But then roughly two months earlier, completely unexpected – and, it should perhaps be said, very belated – news had reached the village.

The report of Prince Gil’s death.

Rone Jayce had a strange sense of shock but, whatever had happened, he had left everything to Fedom and had fled from Solon. He didn’t dwell over it anymore than necessary, however when Layla heard about it, she closed herself off just as she had before. Perhaps it was because, whether she wanted to or not, it had made her think back to that time or perhaps it was because she had been left with a strange feeling of loss when the one she bitterly resented had suddenly died.

Is it going to take a long time again? Rone had been wondering uneasily, but then Layla had superimposed her circumstances and those of that girl’s; it was no wonder that she had become sympathetic towards her.

“I’ll go and talk with her a little,” Rone said to Layla. “It’s alright, I’ll just have a chat.”

“Be careful now.”

“Having raised a daughter, I can say this with confidence: I do have a minimum of delicacy.”

Is that so – Layla smiled in spite of herself.

When he opened the door, the girl was looking out of the window from the bed. A hedge could be seen. It was from there that the crowd of youths earlier had desperately been gathering.

“Was it noisy?” Rone asked as gently as possible.

The girl turned her gaze towards him. There were bandages wrapped around her head but she had no other obvious injuries. Looking at her anew, she was a fair-skinned girl with well-proportioned features. The slightly too-large clothes covering her body were ones he remembered Layla wearing before. Despite the fact they were somewhat ill-fitting, her still figure on the bed, bathed in the brilliant sunshine coming in from the window, looked to Rone like an image from a scroll.

“You are Layla’s father,” the girl said in a clear voice. “Thank you for saving me.”

“No, no, I just happened to be passing through.”

Rone continued to talk about nothing in particular as he pretended to tidy this and that in the guestroom. Her face looked a little tired but she didn’t seem to be experiencing any after-effects from her injury. Just as the doctor had said, she had simply been completely exhausted.

“You haven’t asked me anything.”

“I don’t mind waiting until you feel like talking. This is an easy-going village and the people who live here move unhurriedly with time and nature.”

The girl lowered her eyes slightly and seemed, with that one change in expression, to express gratitude.

“My daughter will be bringing something to eat later. She is also an easy-going girl. Since she doesn’t have many friends of the same age in the village, it would be a big help if you could become someone she can talk with.”

“Of course,” the girl smiled.

After he left the room, Rone gazed at the door he had just shut as though trying see through to the other side.

Yep, looks like she is no ordinary lass.

Rone had served as an Imperial Guard in the capital city of Solon. He was acquainted with many sorts of people; to say nothing of the emperor, there were numerous nobles, soldiers, scholars, and wealthy merchants.

That lass has “understanding”, thought Rone.

When facing a person for the first time in an unknown land, with what kind of attitude should one receive them, what kind of words should one choose? What Rone meant by “understanding” were the manners of those belonging to the highest classes.

I should keep an eye on her for now.

And then, if he turned out to be correct, he wanted to gather information about the skirmish between the west and Mephius. There might be some relation.

If possible, Rone wanted to protect the injured man and the girl.

But their existence might be a threat to his family.

If the lives picked up with these hands, like this…

The sound of a gunshot echoed in his mind once more.

After Rone had left the guestroom, the girl gazed out of the window again.

Platinum hair glittered as the morning light washed over it. It goes without saying that she was Garbera’s third princess, Vileena Owell.

After wandering lost on the mountain path and finally collapsing, she had been found by Rone.

In truth, there had been a lot that she had wanted to ask him. How did the battle between Mephius and Taúlia end? Were there any noticeable movements from either camp? Whether or not it was known that she, the royal princess, had gone missing - or put otherwise, whether or not Mephius or Garbera had issued an official statement.

But if her identity was revealed, Rone might notify Apta immediately; and afterwards she would clearly be sent back to Mephius’ capital, Solon, or to Garbera.

And then…

Resolving herself to bearing the disgrace, flying out of Apta, and bringing secret information to Taúlia would lose all meaning.

Vileena tightly gripped the edge of the blanket.

One way or another, she wanted to stop the war between Mephius and the west. Absorbed in that thought, she had even gotten Krau and Hou Ran involved and had jumped into an airship. The former Imperial Guards who had served the prince were being held restrained in Apta. Emperor Guhl Mephius seemed to want to accuse Taúlia of assassinating the prince as an excuse to attack the western lands. As such, they who had testified to General Oubary’s crime were a hindrance. If things were left as they were, Gowen and Hou Ran might be executed for conspiring with the west and taking part in the prince’s assassination.

In that situation, she had not wanted to escape somewhere safe by herself. But that said, what could her tiny self do on her own? In fact, she had been wounded after having tried to stop the war.

Even though I was born into the royal family…

She had been saved by the kindness of strangers.

She had no influence in this land where nobody knew her. In fact, what would have happened to her if Rone hadn’t by chance been passing by? A starving wolf was not likely to leave her alone because she announced that “I am a princess of Garbera”. Hunger was unbearable for royalty. Thrown out into the night, she truly had not been able to do a thing, and would have quietly stopped breathing.

She thought of how she had cried miserably at her own powerlessness.

The rights, the duties, and the power of the royal family, what are they really?

“The royal family has a duty to devote themselves to the country’s affairs.”

Those were the words that her grandfather had taught her in the past. And those were the words that she herself had spoken to Mephius’ crown prince in the past.

At that time, had she truly believed that?

Now that the concept was once again thrust before her, Vileena's thoughts were paralyzed.

Vileena’s hand left the blanket and touched the medallion hanging at her neck.

At that moment, the door opened again and Layla appeared. On her tray was bread and a meaty soup.

“Is that some kind of amulet?” Layla asked. Her bright voice and expression must have been inherited from her father, as her smile was a lot like his.

She placed the tray near the pillow on the bed.

“Or is it a present from your lover?”

“No,” thinking that she might be suspected of hiding something, Vileena showed Layla the reverse side which did not depict Garbera’s national flag. “It was a present from me.”

“Eh? Then – it was rejected?”

Vileena laughed at her outspokenness. Layla looked embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, that was rude.”

“Not at all. But… it might be something like that.”

“A man who would behave like that after receiving a present from a girl as cute as you is best forgotten fast. He definitely likes men. Do you know the Badyne faith? Apparently, the believers practice those kind of customs and…”

After getting that far, Layla leaned far out of the window.

“Hey!” She shouted.

Boys had begun to turn up at the hedge again. Waah – their voices sounded panicked, or perhaps over-excited.

“Ah!” Layla exclaimed in an oddly high-pitched voice. “Isn’t that Lennus from next door? And he even gave me flowers before, the philanderer.”

Despite herself, Vileena smiled again.

The steam wafting up from the soup was slightly warm.

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